Left To Die

“I was hoping we could catch up,” she said, trying to keep her tone even, calling out from the kitchen.

“Sharp, please don’t shout. You know how it sets off the neighbor’s dogs.”

She got to her feet, leaving her soup, and went over to her father. “How have you been?”

He glanced over at her. “Working. Why? You don’t need money, do you?”

“Dammit, no, I don’t.”

He frowned at the curse word and shook his head. “All right, what do you want?”

“I wanted to stop by and say hi.”

“Do you need my help with a case?”

She tucked her tongue inside a cheek, counting quietly to ten in her head. Her father had never made it past desk sergeant with the German police force. He had always fancied himself a bit of an investigator, but his superiors hadn’t seen it the same way.

“No, Dad. I mean, I could use all the help I can get on this one. But I’m not sure there’s anything you can help me with.”

“You going to eat your soup?”

“It’s hot.”

“Well, if you just leave it there, it can condense; the water will stain the table. Could you at least put a napkin or two down?”

Adele wanted to protest, but she just didn’t have the energy. The exhaustion she’d felt over the last two days felt multiplied all of a sudden as she stood in the well-lit, cleanly kept house.

For the first time this week, she found herself missing John’s company. Agent Renee was downright pleasant compared to this.

She stomped back into the kitchen, intentionally slamming her feet into the ground, knowing it would bother her father, and then took the bowl of soup and dumped it in the sink.

“What was that?” her dad called through the open door.

“Dad, do you want to watch TV, or do you want to catch up? Because honestly, I could use some sleep if you’re not looking to talk.”

“There’s no room upstairs. Your old room is now my home office.”

“I wasn’t asking to stay here. We were given rooms at the motel across from the airport.”

“The airport? How’d you get here?”

“Bus, then walked. But seriously, you’re in good health?”

Joseph nodded, lifting his bowl of soup and drinking the rest of it, downing it in a couple of gulps. The bowl was still steaming, but the heat didn’t seem to bother him.

He wagged his finger toward the TV, chuckling as a cop channel displayed a foot chase with a couple of dogs biting into the leg of a fleeing suspect.

“Been seeing anyone?” said Adele. The moment the question left her lips, she kicked herself. She had just been looking for something to say, but she knew her dad wouldn’t take it well.

He turned at her, scowling. “How’s that your business?”

Adele threw her hands up in surrender. “Sorry. You don’t seem that interested in talking.”

He sighed, heavily, and with much show of grave sacrifice, he reached for the TV remote and clicked the button. He turned, swiveling his large chair so he was facing her.

“What do you want to talk about?” he said.

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing.” Adele could feel herself easing back toward the front door. It had been a mistake coming here. She’d shown up, she’d said hi. That was all that could be expected. Her dad was the same as he’d ever been. She was amazed her mother had ever lasted to begin with.

“Do you want me to ask if you’ve been seeing someone? Is this one of those female things? You’re not in poor health, are you?”

Adele just shook her head. “You know what, I can’t really stay long. I just wanted to stop by and say hi. Anything you need? I can swing by the store and drop it off later.”

Her dad waved away the offer and turned slowly back toward his TV, reaching for the remote. “Your German has gotten worse,” he added as an afterthought.

Adele hesitated in the door to the kitchen, glancing at her father’s profile. He was one of the few people who seemed happy in their discontent. And there was nothing she could do to change him. Stronger people than her had tried and failed.

“I’ll see you later, Dad,” she said.

The Sergeant nodded a couple of times. “See you, Sharp.”

For some reason, Adele thought of Robert coming to pick her up at the airport. She thought of him tearing up at the thought of her moving into her room in his mansion. She thought of the way he smiled whenever he greeted her, of staying up late at night, talking by the fire.

But people couldn’t choose their fathers. They couldn’t choose their families.

Adele began striding back toward the front door, wishing she hadn’t come to begin with.

“Sharp, make sure to clean your bowl. I’m tired of cleaning up other people’s messes! Also don’t splash the soup against the sink, the aluminum can rust.”

Adele bit her lip, but backtracked to the sink, turned on the water, and rinsed out the bowl she hadn’t asked for. She washed it with soap and water, listening to the hum and chatter from the TV room, and then turned to leave again.

A weight of sadness burdened her shoulders as she approached the front door. For some reason, unbidden, she thought perhaps she should go for a run in the morning. She didn’t want to miss a day. She hadn’t in years. Running always made her feel better.

As she contemplated the route she would jog, wondering if she could find a good trail nearby, she paused. A frown flitted across her features.

“Hang on,” she said, softly. “What was that you said?”

But her dad ignored her, and she thought she heard him turn the TV up.

Tired of cleaning up other people’s messes. Adele turned back toward the front door, heart hammering. The drug from Lion Pharmaceutical had been slated to be destroyed. But it was a highly controlled substance. There was no way they’d simply thrown it in the trash.

The samples that Peter Lehman had stolen were only part of the supplies destroyed.

So who had cleaned up the mess?

They would’ve had to hire a specialist. Adele’s footsteps quickened as she hurried toward the door, and she put on her shoes.

“Don’t run in the house! You’ll leave scuff marks!”