My heart started pounding unnaturally fast. It was hard to believe that my dad was finally going to share what happened after all of these years of not knowing. He glanced quickly around the room and swallowed hard before speaking softly.
“Before you were born, I was a cop in L.A. Your mom and I were happily married for a few years and were thrilled when you came along. Most of my cases up to that point were relatively short, and the danger was minimal. I worked my way up to detective and began handling more difficult cases. I was good at my job but regretted how often it took me away from you and your mom.” He took a sip of water and then tugged at his shirt collar.
I saw uncertainty flash in his eyes. “A few months before your mother was killed, my partner and I infiltrated the local branch of a widespread criminal organization. Before going undercover, I took a few precautions, including purchasing our house in Coleville with cash that had been left to me by a distant relative.
My partner and I worked on compiling evidence against several of the high-ranking members of the branch, but we were having trouble gaining access to the type of information that would take them down for good.
As time went on, I felt increasingly uneasy about the situation. Operations within the organization appeared to be running too smoothly and most of the jobs we were included on dealt only with the legal side of the business that they used for cover. I stopped going home at all, unwilling to take a chance that I would be followed. Feeling the need for a backup plan in case something went wrong, I created new identities for each of us—you, me, and your mom—and stashed some extra money in a safe deposit box.”
He scratched his hairline and I noticed the perspiration that glistened on his forehead. As he began smoothing his napkin again, I realized that I was gripping my own. Sighing deeply, he continued, “I still don’t know what gave us away, but somehow they figured out our real identities. Before we knew about their discovery, several members of the organization lured my partner to a remote location. I wasn’t supposed to be there but decided at the last minute to hide in the back of their truck.”
He shuddered and quickly sucked in some air. “Not realizing what they had in mind, I was too late. One of the men shot and killed my partner—who was also my best friend—and I was helpless to react.”
I stared at him in shock. In the back of my mind, I guess I always knew that nothing short of tragedy would have caused us to live the way we did. But hearing it out loud made it feel so real . . . and scary.
I silently watched my dad as he tried to pull himself together. He was looking down at his hands and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. But clearly recounting the events of so many years ago was painful for him, and I started to feel guilty for forcing it out of him. I waited until I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Then what happened?” I tried to appear reassuring, encouraging him to continue.
He turned back to me and swallowed before quietly continuing his story. “I stayed hidden in the back of the truck, waiting for a chance to escape. During that time, I missed a scheduled rendezvous—where they no doubt intended to kill me—and they became suspicious when I didn’t show up. While I was still hiding, I heard the man who had just killed my partner talking to one of his men about his plan to track down your mother. He was hoping that she would lead them to me.”
He paused again, longer, and closed his eyes. He took several deep breaths before reopening them. I reached out my hand and placed it on top of his. He looked back at me and then down to our hands on the table. His eyes held a devastation I had never seen before. “Haley, I know that by telling you that your mother died in a car wreck, I was letting you believe that her death was an accident. The car wreck part was true, but it wasn’t the full story. Your mom’s death wasn’t an accident. The car was forced off the road. She was killed because of me. It was my fault.”
I sat up straighter and gently squeezed his hand before withdrawing my own. The skin of my palm felt clammy, and I feared what he had to say next. After pausing a moment more, he continued in a quieter voice. Although I knew it was my dad speaking, it sounded like the voice of a stranger.
“Without going into the details, I was able to get away, and I rushed home to you and your mom. We sped out of town and headed toward the mountains. Night was falling as we reached increasingly isolated stretches of road. I was driving, and your mother was in the passenger seat; you were in the back seat behind me. It was well past midnight when I sensed a car following us. I tried to lose them, but they stayed right on our tail.”
His voice began to shake. “When we neared a bridge that was in an area with no other traffic, they slammed into the back of our car. I maintained enough control over the car to keep from plummeting off the bridge but still ran off the road into a ditch. We hit a tree on your mother’s side of the car, and she was killed instantly. I got you out of the car and made sure it would explode, hoping that everyone would believe we all died in the crash. And then we ran.”
He exhaled loudly. As upset as he looked, he also seemed kind of relieved. I didn’t even want to imagine how difficult it had been to keep all of that to himself for all of these years.
Having reached the end of the story, he fell silent and I sat unmoving, stunned. Slowly the sounds of the restaurant and the world around us drifted back to me, but we sat there without speaking for a few minutes before the waiter returned for our dessert order. Eager for him to disappear again, we quickly selected the toffee pudding and crème brûlée.
After the waiter whisked away the dessert menus, my dad reached out and rubbed the back of my hand that was resting on the table. “I believed in what I was doing, but it wasn’t worth your mom’s life. It wasn’t worth putting your life in danger. I’m so sorry, Haley.”
Over the years, I had considered that on some level my mom’s death must have been connected to our move to the mountains. I just didn’t expect this type of dramatic outcome.
Still in shock, I tried to fit all the pieces together before finally breaking my silence. “What happened to the criminals? Were they ever caught?”
He looked down at the table and hung his head. “Unfortunately, they’re still out there and, I’m guessing, even more powerful than before. I still have my file on them, hoping one day they will be brought to justice.”
I considered keeping the question to myself, but I just couldn’t. It was the one thing I had to know. “I don’t blame you, Dad, but I have to ask. Why did you choose to run? Why not go to the police and turn in the men who did this?”
“That’s the clincher, isn’t it,” he replied. “I could spend the rest of my life trying to justify my decision to run. But it came down to one thing: I had to keep you safe. In that moment, I didn’t trust any other person but myself to do so, especially the authorities. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone in my department sold us out to the organization.
I had just lost my best friend and my wife that day. I couldn’t take the chance with you. And, as hard as it may be to believe, I have never regretted my decision. I know it’s been difficult for you, living like this. I’m sorry for that, Haley, I really am. But at least you’re alive.”
“Is that why we are still in hiding?” I whispered.
He nodded and, out of habit, glanced around the room again. “I wish we were safe after all this time, but something happened a couple weeks ago that you need to know about. I went to a safe deposit box in Sacramento to get your mother’s ring. While I was there, someone I used to work with recognized me and called out to me. I ignored him, but I have a feeling it won’t matter.
I’m not telling you this to scare you, but I want you to be extra cautious for a while. If he tells anyone that he saw me, that information could end up in the wrong hands. I have no doubt that there are still plenty of people who would like to know that I’m alive.”
He reached into his jacket pocket once again, this time pulling out a small key with the number 738 engraved on it. “Take this and try to keep it with you at all times. If anything happens to me, promise me you will run away and take care of yourself. Don’t worry about me, and don’t go to the police. When you think it’s safe, go to the First National Bank on Post Street in San Francisco. This key will open a safe deposit box that contains items to help you out.”
“Dad, do you really think this is necessary?” I didn’t want him to think I was blowing off his warning, but I didn’t understand his insistence.
“Haley, listen to me. I really hope it’s never necessary. But, I have tried to prepare you in case anything ever happens. I need to know that you’ll be strong and put yourself first. Understand?” I nodded and he forced a smile. “Good. Let’s not talk about this anymore right now. We’re supposed to be celebrating. It is your birthday after all.”
The waiter arrived with our dessert, effectively squashing further conversation. Before blowing out the candle, I closed my eyes. Numerous wishes came to mind, but I forced myself to narrow it down to one, choosing to focus on my hope for the future. I wish for an adventure, something unexpected and wonderful.