Liquid Smoke

On the other hand, if he was truly my father, the blood of a lifelong criminal was pulsing in my heart.

“He was convicted with special circumstances that allowed for the death penalty,” Darcy continued. “He’s never participated in his appeals, and he’s waived the opportunity for several of them even to be heard. That’s why he’s come up so fast. He’s been on the row for eighteen months. Generally, the average is thirteen years before we get to this point.”

“Why hasn’t he appealed?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I just picked up this case last month. I work for a firm that only handles appellate cases. We grab cases like your father’s.”

“Don’t call him that,” I said sharply. “And I know what appellate firms do.”

“Then you know we’re his last chance,” she said. “The attorneys who handled his earlier appeals told me that he just wasn’t interested in spending time in court anymore. He’s barely spoken to me.”

I stared at the gray sky draping the ocean like a big canopy. “Why would you think I’d give a shit about helping him?”

“I don’t. But you’re basically my last option to get him to talk.”

“Talk about what?”

She shuffled her feet on the concrete walk. “He killed those two men. There’s no doubt about that, and he confessed to it. But when he was first arrested, he indicated that he was working for someone. He’s denied it ever since. But if I can show that he was under orders, it might buy him a little sympathy and get the sentence commuted to life.”

“You already told me he’s not talking.”

“Not to me. But he might to you.”

I couldn’t imagine what he’d have to say to me. And I’d reached a point in my life where I didn’t think I really had anything to say to him. Not anything that was worth the anger it would bring to the surface, anyway.

“Why would he talk to me?” I asked. “We don’t know each other.”

“The only words he’s said to me were about you,” she said. “Coming from a man facing a death sentence, that says a great deal about where his mind and heart are.”

I feared she was right.

FOUR

“You said Simington might have been working for someone,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “You know that for sure?”

Darcy shook her head. “Not for sure, no. But looking at his history, Simington’s never been a leader. His record shows that he’s always been a middle man. A guy who takes orders.”

“What else has he done time for?”

“Armed robbery, assault, and various weapons charges. He did five years on the robbery and less than a year each on the others. Walked on several other charges.”

A bank of clouds moved in front of the sun and shaded the beach. The shadows added to the sour feeling in my stomach.

“Any idea who he was working for?” I asked.

“Not really,” she replied. “But I found a pattern in his employment. For the previous three years until his final arrest, he was working as a security guard for some different casinos.”

Putting a convicted felon in a casino was enough to raise anyone’s eyebrows.

“Any explanation for the murders?”

“None that Simington would give,” she said. “The detectives that put his case together tied him to an alien smuggling ring, but he never confirmed. Or denied.”

“Alien smuggling. You think Simington helped bring Mexicans across the border?”

She fixed me with her gray eyes. “Yes. I’m not sure exactly what his role was, but I believe Russell Simington —your father—was involved with that.”

I forced my mouth to keep from asking another question. I hated the fact that I was already curious, wanting to know more about Russell Simington. I didn’t want to want any part of this, and yet, I was already feeling a gravitational pull.

“Look, I know this will be difficult for you,” Darcy said.

“Will be difficult?” I said, equally amused and annoyed. “When did I say yes? Did I miss it?”

She pursed her lips, accepting the chastisement. “I understand that you never knew him. But I’m not asking you to develop a relationship with him.”

“That’s exactly what you’re asking,” I said. “The moment I look at him, it becomes a relationship.”

She pulled at the yellow rash guard as if the neoprene T-shirt was too tight. Her intensity was almost tangible, like a force field around her.

“I don’t believe in the death penalty,” she finally said. “It’s wrong. I decided a long time ago that I would commit my life to stopping it. I don’t apologize for that. But I can’t control who it brings me to or whose lives I have to disrupt in order to stop it.” The first bank of clouds passed, and the sun splintered through. “This time, it’s brought me to you.”