a surprise to me too?” Isaac asked, but Will ignored his brother.
“Yep, Patty was his deadbeat mom. She skipped town three days after having him, and I never heard from her again.”
“She got beat to death in a truck stop parking lot,” Jason said. “Working as a lot lizard ended up not agreeing with her.”
“How long ago?” Will asked. “How could I not know about this?”
“That’s ancient history, buddy. She died at least ten years ago, crapped out at least one other kid, as far as I know. I got to admit, that part didn’t interest me too much. Didn’t make much of a splash, though, at least not here. In South Dakota, she was what most people referred to as number fifteen—as in, the fifteenth hooker to get skull-fucked by some asshole blowing through town. Last I checked, they still hadn’t caught the guy.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I don’t figure they’re looking at him for it, but I’ll pass the word along—if I happen across the right people, of course.” Jason made a cigarette appear from a pack on the bottom shelf of his cart and lit it with a match he ignited on the bottom of an engineer boot. “So, anyways, let’s hear the rest of it.”
“Patty came to my mom, dropped off the kid in her lap, and skipped town. I was out drinking, wondering what the fuck was ever going to happen with my shitty life. When I came home—boom—time to play house.”
“And I was sitting in stir.”
“Exactly. Patty told my mother the story about the kid either being yours or mine too. My mom’s the only one besides me—well,
us
now, I suppose—that ever knew the truth.”
“Do you have a picture?”
Will took his phone from his pocket—slowly, so as not to alarm Jason—and turned it on. He went to the pictures app and found one of a smiling Alex from nearly ten years ago, dressed in a baseball uniform. Will gave the picture a look, wondering not for the last time just what in the hell had gone wrong with his boy, and handed the phone to Jason.
“Cute little fucker. Takes after his mother. To be honest, I don’t see a bit of either one us on his mug.”
“Yeah, I never did, either. I’ve lost more than one night thinking about it, though. He was a tough kid to raise, I can tell you. Damn near put my wife in the loony bin. Between my drinking and his wild streak, she’s had some hard times.”
“Hard times make hard people. So how did your son get hooked up with such a rotten bunch? My memory is a little fuzzy when it comes to the details of the robbery, but I do know a bunch of people got toe tags over it.”
“Yes. Alex killed one of them. I never thought he had that in him. I know I never did.”
Jason shrugged. “Well, maybe an apple don’t have to be close to a tree to still fall off a branch.”
“What do you mean?”
“If the kid had my blood, could explain a lot about his mean streak. I was never much of one to listen to reason, and I’ve done some things in my time when I was forced to.”
The two of them were quiet for a long minute, staring off at nothing.
Will pulled out of it first. “Will you help us find out who did this?”
Jason scowled at him, then sank back down into himself again. When he came out of it this time, he was nodding. “Yeah.I know I’m going to regret it, but I’ll help. Just keep in mind, the answers you get may not be the answers you want. Chances are this is going to end with us up popping a couple of hopheads, likely won’t be much different than shooting a rabid pooch. What’s your phone number?”
Will told him, and Jason punched it into his phone.
“Listen, if I have any news worth sharing, I’m going to call you from a burner cell phone, a throwaway. I’ll tell you we need to meet, and we’re going to get together at Founder’s Brewery that same day, at nine p.m. Don’t ask me what I found or anything else. If I call you from the tattoo shop phone—ends in five-zero-nine-two—that means I either found nothing or
“Yep, Patty was his deadbeat mom. She skipped town three days after having him, and I never heard from her again.”
“She got beat to death in a truck stop parking lot,” Jason said. “Working as a lot lizard ended up not agreeing with her.”
“How long ago?” Will asked. “How could I not know about this?”
“That’s ancient history, buddy. She died at least ten years ago, crapped out at least one other kid, as far as I know. I got to admit, that part didn’t interest me too much. Didn’t make much of a splash, though, at least not here. In South Dakota, she was what most people referred to as number fifteen—as in, the fifteenth hooker to get skull-fucked by some asshole blowing through town. Last I checked, they still hadn’t caught the guy.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I don’t figure they’re looking at him for it, but I’ll pass the word along—if I happen across the right people, of course.” Jason made a cigarette appear from a pack on the bottom shelf of his cart and lit it with a match he ignited on the bottom of an engineer boot. “So, anyways, let’s hear the rest of it.”
“Patty came to my mom, dropped off the kid in her lap, and skipped town. I was out drinking, wondering what the fuck was ever going to happen with my shitty life. When I came home—boom—time to play house.”
“And I was sitting in stir.”
“Exactly. Patty told my mother the story about the kid either being yours or mine too. My mom’s the only one besides me—well,
us
now, I suppose—that ever knew the truth.”
“Do you have a picture?”
Will took his phone from his pocket—slowly, so as not to alarm Jason—and turned it on. He went to the pictures app and found one of a smiling Alex from nearly ten years ago, dressed in a baseball uniform. Will gave the picture a look, wondering not for the last time just what in the hell had gone wrong with his boy, and handed the phone to Jason.
“Cute little fucker. Takes after his mother. To be honest, I don’t see a bit of either one us on his mug.”
“Yeah, I never did, either. I’ve lost more than one night thinking about it, though. He was a tough kid to raise, I can tell you. Damn near put my wife in the loony bin. Between my drinking and his wild streak, she’s had some hard times.”
“Hard times make hard people. So how did your son get hooked up with such a rotten bunch? My memory is a little fuzzy when it comes to the details of the robbery, but I do know a bunch of people got toe tags over it.”
“Yes. Alex killed one of them. I never thought he had that in him. I know I never did.”
Jason shrugged. “Well, maybe an apple don’t have to be close to a tree to still fall off a branch.”
“What do you mean?”
“If the kid had my blood, could explain a lot about his mean streak. I was never much of one to listen to reason, and I’ve done some things in my time when I was forced to.”
The two of them were quiet for a long minute, staring off at nothing.
Will pulled out of it first. “Will you help us find out who did this?”
Jason scowled at him, then sank back down into himself again. When he came out of it this time, he was nodding. “Yeah.I know I’m going to regret it, but I’ll help. Just keep in mind, the answers you get may not be the answers you want. Chances are this is going to end with us up popping a couple of hopheads, likely won’t be much different than shooting a rabid pooch. What’s your phone number?”
Will told him, and Jason punched it into his phone.
“Listen, if I have any news worth sharing, I’m going to call you from a burner cell phone, a throwaway. I’ll tell you we need to meet, and we’re going to get together at Founder’s Brewery that same day, at nine p.m. Don’t ask me what I found or anything else. If I call you from the tattoo shop phone—ends in five-zero-nine-two—that means I either found nothing or
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