no doubt developed while in prison as he’d always been an evening news kind of guy before.
“Are you ready for breakfast?” Mac called. He’d nuke the oatmeal, add raisins, a spoonful of protein powder and milk, and carry it in to his father.
“Mac!” Gus tried to shout, but only succeeded in a loud croak. “Come in here. You’ve got to see this.”
Mac hurried in, just in time to hear the news reporter comment on a teenage girl’s murder that had happened a few hours ago in the tiny east Texas town of Legacy. The reporter informed them excitedly that this was the first murder in ten years, the first since Brenda Green’s body was found in this exact same spot.
Stunned, Mac reeled. Glancing at his father, who wore a grim expression of pain mingled with satisfaction on his wasted face, he looked back at the television.
Ten years to the day. And right after Mac and Gus had come back to town. Then, a combination of relief and horror flooded through him. Relief, because anyone looking at his father could tell instantly he wouldn’t have been able to do it—the man could barely even walk, for pity’s sake—and horror because of the killer’s choice of date and place. Ten long years had passed since the first murder. What would make someone do such a thing to celebrate such a gruesome anniversary? It had to be the original killer. Had to be.
“See?” Gus said quietly, switching off the television once the segment had ended. “You know as well as I do that this has to be the same person who killed Brenda Green. Why else would they kill again at the same location, on the same date? More proof I didn’t do it.”
While Mac agreed, he had to wonder about the timing. Ten long years had passed since a killing. If it had been the same person, what had been the reason for the huge gap? Now Gus had returned to Legacy and immediately another girl got murdered? It sure sounded like someone was trying to set Gus up.
But why? For what reason? It might have worked, too, except whoever it was had no idea how fast the illness had marched through Gus’s body.
“Now you have even more incentive to find out who the real killer is,” Gus continued. “Not just to clear my name, but to make sure no other young girl suffers a horrible fate.” The older man’s eyes glistened.
“I’m sure the police will be working hard to solve the case,” Mac said.
“Right. Like they did ten years ago? No. They didn’t find the right man then, and I doubt they will now.”
Gus swiped his hand across his face and shook his head. “The hell I’ve been through. While I know it’s nothing like what the Greens suffered, knowing everyone believes you’re a monster is its own kind of torture. Not to mention rotting in prison for something I didn’t do.”
Not sure what to say, Mac squeezed his father’s shoulder. “Now how about that breakfast? Or do you need to use the restroom first?”
“Already been.” He sounded like a little kid who’d pulled a fast one. Since he wasn’t supposed to try to walk unassisted, in a way he had.
Mac had already lectured him on this the day before, so he decided to let it pass this time. “Then I guess I need to bring you some food.”
“Okay,” Gus said, grimacing. “To be honest with you, I’m not sure how much I can eat.”
“I made oatmeal. Your favorite. At least you can try.”
“That I can do. I sure wish I could have coffee, though.”
“I’ll make you some decaf.”
After putting everything on a tray, Mac carried it in and placed it in front of his dad. He pulled up a chair next to the bed, figuring he could make conversation while getting a look at how much his dad managed to eat.
To his surprise, Gus ate most of the oatmeal. He drank all the juice and took a few sips of the decaf coffee before proclaiming himself done.
“You did great,” Mac said, pleased.
“Thanks. Now, how about you help me make it to the bathroom? I want to take a shower.”
Mac had installed handrails in the master bedroom shower. Luckily, it was a walk-in, so Gus had no problem getting in or out.
After Gus had showered and dried off, Mac helped him dress and took his arm to lead him back to bed. Gus tired easily these days, and they’d discovered early on it was better to let him stay in the bed rather than a chair. One incident of him sliding down the floor and being unable to get up had proved that.
Settled back against his pillow, Gus proclaimed himself comfortable. Mac asked him if he needed anything. He’d planned to do more repair work on the exterior of the house. Checking on Gus every thirty minutes, of course.
“Sit and talk awhile.” Gus jerked his chin to indicate the chair next to the bed. “I won’t take much of your time.” He grinned as he glanced at the clock. “My game show comes on in ten minutes.”
Smiling back, Mac took a seat. He treasured this time with his father and was grateful to have it. It almost made up for the ten years lost—almost, but not really.
“So tell me, have you seen her yet?” Gus asked.
Even though they both knew who he meant, Mac considered feigning ignorance just to tease. But in the end, he simply nodded. “I have.”
“How is she? Still as pretty?”
Mac sighed. “Even more so. She didn’t really want to talk, to put it mildly. I let her know we were back in town, and that was about it.”
“I’m sorry, son.” Gus reached up and squeezed Mac’s arm. “I know how much you loved her.”
Loved. Past tense. Sometimes Mac wished that’s where his feelings could stay. But to hope such a thing was foolish. One glance at Hailey and he’d known that.
“Still do,” he confessed. “I’m hoping to get a second chance with her.”
“Glad to hear it.” Gus studied him, his gaze sharp as ever. “But don’t just hope. Act. Good things only come to those who work hard to get them.”
Hearing his father repeat the old adage Mac had heard growing up made him grin. “Yes, sir,” he said. “Now I’d better get to work. And you’ve got your game show to watch.”
Nodding, Gus clicked on the TV. Even as the opening music came on, his eyes were already drifting closed.
Getting up and moving quietly away, Mac left him alone to rest. He removed and replaced three back window screens before heading inside to check on his father. He found Gus sound asleep, the television still on.
Next up, Mac wanted to fix a leaky pipe under the sink in the guest bathroom. He spent the next several hours repairing small things, checking them off a long list he’d made.
Come lunchtime, Mac made a couple of sandwiches. He fixed both him and his dad identical plates, chips and a large dill pickle for both of them. After pouring two glasses of iced tea, he carried everything into the living room and loudly cleared his throat.
Startled, Gus opened his eyes and sat up. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing much. Just brought us a little lunch.”
Side by side, they ate. Once again, Gus pleasantly surprised Mac with his appetite. “You’re really eating well today,” Mac told him. He’d noticed some days were better than others.
Gus shrugged. “I’m hungry for some reason.” He covered his mouth with his hand and yawned. “But all this food makes me sleepy.”
“You go ahead and rest.” Gathering up the plates, Mac carried them to the kitchen. “I’ll check on you later.”
Yawning again, Gus nodded. When Mac glanced back on his way to the kitchen, his father was already asleep.
The rest