Family Secrets

“How long was he gone?”

“I don’t know.  He didn’t come back by me. I just assumed he was embarrassed about stepping on my foot and that he’d returned to his seat from the other direction.”  Lane said as she reached for her Diet Dr. Pepper.

“One more thing, we’ve identified the deceased.   His name was Paul Gardner.”

Lane almost dropped her glass as she choked and spewed soda from her nose and mouth.  They reached toward the napkin holder at the same time.

“Apparently you recognize the name.” He said as he wiped soda from his hand and face.

Lane wiped her face and blew her nose.  She walked to the sink, picked up a sponge, and turned on the tap.  Recognize the name? She’d never forget it.  She turned off the tap, walked back to the table, and began wiping away the sticky soda.  She felt a hand on hers.

“Ms. Parker, are you all right?”

Lane looked up and wondered how long she’d been wiping the table.  She sat down and took a deep breath.

“My father was killed in a car accident nearly 45 years ago.  It was summer and we were driving from Springfield, Missouri back to our home in Iowa.  It was in the early evening.  We were on highway 71 just south of Kansas City when a car crossed the centerline and hit us.  Not exactly, a head on collision, the point of impact was on the driver’s side. It was before mandatory seat belt laws; the car had no shoulder restraints, no air bags.  Just a four-year-old girl and her father.  My father had seen it coming and reached his right arm out to shield me.  He hit his head on the driver’s window and was pushed over on top of me.   We were lucky that there was other traffic, but they still had to drive to find a phone so they could call for help.  I don’t know how long we sat there waiting for help to come.  My Father was unconscious, blood oozing on my hands as I cradled his head.”  She looked down at her hands but saw only a little girl’s hands covered in blood.

“God knows how I escaped without injury, but I was covered in my father’s blood. When the ambulance finally came, they loaded us in and took us to the hospital.  My father never regained consciousness and died five months later.  The driver of the other car was young, drunk, and got out with only bumps and bruises.  His name was Paul Gardner.”  Lane didn’t know when she started crying, but she could taste tears and reached for another napkin.

Detective McGuire had his hand over his mouth.  He slowly moved it down to his chin.  “But you told me last night that you didn’t know the guy in the theater,” he said watching her closely.

“I don’t, didn’t know the man in the theater.  And, if you tell me his name was Paul Gardner, then that’s who he was.  He might even be the Paul Gardner who caused the accident, but I never saw Paul Gardner. For God’s sake, I was four years old at the time. He pled guilty to drunk driving and vehicular manslaughter.  There was no trial.  He was sentenced to five years. Five years for killing my father and changing everything I had ever known.”

He had no idea of how the court system had worked that long ago.  Maybe she really had never seen Paul Gardner and she was only four, so would she have even remembered.  The detective looked at his watch.

“I’ll be going now.”   He stood. “I’ll be in touch.”

She stood and walked him to the front door.  As she closed the door behind him, her cell phone rang.

“Hey, Red, miss me?”

“Benito Giova

“Half an hour?”  Came the reply.

She hung up the phone, grabbed her car keys, and headed for the garage.  Her friends on the Plaza would just have to gossip and lunch without her today.  From the look on Detective McGuire’s face she was going to need a lawyer, and soon. Lane silently thanked God.  Ben wasn’t just the only criminal defense lawyer she knew. He was the best in the Kansas City metro.

As she drove, she replayed the events of last night and this morning over in her head and wondered why it was so important for her to see that movie last night anyway.  Didn’t she know that her favorite man and movie partner was getting back from Italy today?  Just goes to prove that old habits, and Saturday night at the movies was a habit, were just hard to break.  Well, that and the fact that she’d promised Jess she’d see it opening weekend.  A sense of relief came over her as she pulled into the parking lot and saw Ben’s black Jaguar XKR convertible.

Ben stood at the door, wearing a blue blazer over a tan polo shirt and khaki slacks, not even noticing the side ways glances, and out right stares, he was getting from every woman in the place.

He was 36 years old, stood six feet four inches tall, had dark hair, and hazel eyes.  The best way to describe him was that he could be George Clooney’s much younger, much taller, much, much better looking brother.  In other words, he attracted attention wherever he went.

“Hey, Red. There’s only one explanation for meeting me and abandoning the Sunday Brunch Crowd.  You really did miss me.”  He smiled as he bent down and kissed her.

God, she was glad to see him.  They were walking toward the Board Room, a private dining room for the Bellini family and their friends when she looked up and saw Detective McGuire standing in the bar area.  He was heading toward them.  The situation was worse than she thought, she wasn’t just a suspect; the police had tapped her phone and were following her.  The Detective extended his hand to Ben.

“Heard you were out of the country,” the detective said as he and Ben shook hands.

“Mickey, how’s it going?  Yeah, I was in Italy visiting the family.  I got back late last night.”  He motioned toward Lane.  “Lane, this is Mickey McGuire.  Mickey, Lane Parker.”

Detective McGuire nodded.  Lane opened her mouth to speak, but the Detective spoke first.  “Ben, Ms. Parker. If you’ll excuse me, my party just came in.  Ben, good to see you.”

After they sat down and ordered a bottle of wine, Lane smiled at him.  “So, how was the homeland?  Are your Grandparents okay?  Bet they were glad to see you. You’re a good son to go so Mama didn’t have to make the trip alone.”

He reached across the table and poked at her hand. “You should have come with me. It was a fast trip and you know No

Ben had introduced her to his maternal grandparents six months ago when they were visiting from the old country as his Mother called it.  His grandfather just kept hugging her and talking in Italian.  When she asked Ben what No

“They’re fine.  They did ask about you, and of course, they were glad to see me, I’m their favorite.  You know, it really is a beautiful place, maybe someday I’ll convince you to come along.”

The waiter delivered a bottle of merlot and poured a little for Ben. It was from Ben’s private reserve, so there was no question about whether or not it would be good.  Ben nodded and the waiter poured a glass for Lane.

“So, that was your basketball buddy Mickey.  You never mentioned that he was a homicide detective.”

“How did you know that?”

“The short version is I found a body last night when I was at the movies. Detective McGuire’s investigating and I think I’m a murder suspect.”

Ben shook his head slowly.  He’d only been gone four days, what was she saying?  “Let’s not jump to conclusions here.”

Between ordering and eating, she told him the whole story begi