fifty-three

Roscoe calls when we’re about twenty minutes from the house. Jude has him on speakerphone.

“Hey, bud,” Roscoe says. “You find what you were looking for?”

“Yes, everything’s fine.”

“Good. Then get your butt on home before your momma finds out you took off. She was asking about you and Winter hours ago, and your daddy had to cover for you, saying you two retired early.”

“Okay, we’ll be there shortly. Can you tell my dad we need to speak to him? He’s not answering his phone.”

“Probably put it aside for the evening. You know how your momma gets about that—no cell phone checks during social engagements.”

“I know. Just tell him we really need to talk.”

As soon as we pull up in front of the estate, Roscoe appears, jabbing a finger toward the garage. Jude sighs but doesn’t argue. Roscoe meets us in the garage, as Jude looks around, saying, “Where’s the Cadillac?”

“Your daddy took it. I never even knew he was gone until I went looking for him. Maria said he took off maybe an hour ago, something about an emergency.”

Jude looks at me, his brows furrowing. “But I called around that time and he never picked up.”

Roscoe shrugs. “Maybe he was on the line with the other thing.”

“Where’s Maria? I’ll speak to her.”

Roscoe checks his watch and arches his brows at Jude, who sighs and says, “Gone home, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Almost an hour ago, along with everyone else. You do know what time it is, right?”

“Fine. Where’s Mom?” He sees Roscoe’s expression. “Let me guess. Gone to bed.”

“Long ago. Last thing she did was ask about you and Winter. It’s been a long night for her, and she seemed kind of agitated. Went to her room for a while, which she never does during a party. Bad form, don’t you know.”

He quirks a smile, but when Jude doesn’t return it, Roscoe pauses and then says, “You told her about your brother, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah, shit.” Roscoe shakes his head. “Why do you want to go getting him in trouble like that? Yeah, you’re worried. Guess I can’t fault you for that. All right, then. You two get off to bed, and we’ll pretend that’s where you’ve been all night.”

“I really should speak to my mother.”

“It can wait until morning,” Roscoe says firmly. “Let her get some sleep.”

There’s a guest room made up for me. Jude shuts the door behind us, saying, “I wasn’t going to get into it with him, but I’m okay with waking my mother to tell her about Cadence.”

I sit on the end of the huge bed. “Will that help? If she’s in denial, is it just going to sound like more proof we’re hatching some crazy story? Maybe something Cadence and I rigged up to…I don’t know, blackmail your family? Yes, that sounds nuts, but at this point, I’m feeling paranoid. Other than Doc Southcott, no one’s believing us about anything. Should we wait for your father?”

“I don’t know.” He pulls up a chair and collapses into it. “Why the hell didn’t he return my call? I said I need to speak to him and he knows we took off on an emergency. Dad and I have never been really close, but he’s always been there for me. He was earlier. And then what? Something else comes up, and he can’t bother even calling me back? What’s that important? Hell, what kind of emergency is he even going to get in the middle of a Sunday night?”

He runs his hands through his hair. “Sorry. I’m tired and frustrated and starting to rant.”

“Have you called again?”

“I texted on the way up. I called while you were in the bathroom. It’s just going straight to voice mail now, like he’s seeing my number and hitting ignore. Which makes no sense.”

When silence falls, he looks over and then heaves to his feet. “Yeah, it’s late. You don’t need my shit. I’m glad we got Cadence back. We’ll talk to my parents in the morning.”

I catch his hand. “Yes, we got Cadence back, but that doesn’t help Lennon and Edie unless we can use it to make someone pay attention to us. I wasn’t ignoring you. I was just thinking.”

I tug him to sit beside me and keep our hands entwined, working up the courage to follow my thoughts where they’re leading.

“Back to your grandmother,” I say. “It would make sense if Annie had an affair and accidentally got pregnant. But back-to-back pregnancies by a lover? That’s intentional and the only reason would be that she hoped her lover would step up and offer to marry her. What’s the most likely reason why he wouldn’t? Why she’d need to try twice?” I look at him. “If he was already married.”

He gives a slow nod. “That makes sense. We’ll add that to our ammunition for when we talk to Betty.”

“Yes, but…” I take a deep breath. “You said Elysse went to Betty directly. She wanted you boys specifically. Claimed to know a secret that could hurt you. If that secret is about your real father, how would Elysse know?”

“Like I said, I have no idea…” He trails off. “Are you suggesting…You think our dad is actually…”

“It makes sense, doesn’t it? The missing puzzle piece.”

“No.” He rises, dropping our hands. “Just no. I’m sorry, Winter. Is it possible Peter Bishop is our biological dad? Yes. But you’re suggesting he’s also the one behind Cadence’s kidnapping, which explains why he took off on some emergency. You’re saying he’s responsible for all of this.”

“I—”

“Is my dad the man from the conservatory?”

“No, but—”

“My dad was in DC when you were being stalked. That’s a provable fact.”

“Okay.”

“Now you’re going to suggest he has a partner, and that’s who you saw in the conservatory, the man who stalked you.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

He’s pacing now. “You’re going to say that’s why Cadence freaked when she saw me. Because she thought I was him—my dad. You’ll point out that Lennon and I look a lot more like Peter Bishop than Matt Lowe. You’ll say Edie’s kidnapping came before my dad left for DC, so that could have been him. You’ll say he could have kidnapped Edie and Cadence, and even Lennon that first time, which is why Lennon didn’t want to tell our parents. Because our parent is the one who took him. That’s why Lennon thought he could fix it.”

“I’m not saying any of that, Jude.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Because you’re working it through yourself.”

His jaw sets. “Peter Bishop is not our father. Any resemblance is superficial. It’s dark hair and blue eyes. That’s it.”

I’m quiet for a minute. Then I say, “Can I show you something?”

“What?”

“Come downstairs. Please. Just…trust me.”