“What other grandsons are you talking about, Connie? Are you telling me Sean has a brother?”
“No, Corina’s son. Bobby.”
“Your nephew.”
“My half-nephew.”
I closed my eyes for a moment and rubbed my forehead. I counted to three.
“Your half-nephew,” I said. “Bobby. What’s his last name?”
“Bergman.”
“That name is familiar. Where have I seen that name?”
“Hell if I know.”
“Hold on,” I said. “The court records in your father’s room. The man he assaulted was named Bergman.”
“Darryl Bergman, yeah. Bobby’s father.”
“The loser your sister married…”
“That’s why my father beat the hell out of him, yeah. I think he felt bad that Bobby had to go through the same shit he did as a kid.”
I waited for the quarter to drop. Connie just sat there looking up at me.
“Your nephew…” I said.
“Half-nephew.”
I had to close my eyes again.
“Wait a minute,” he said, finally getting it. “Are you serious? Bobby Bergman? There’s no way.”
“Why not?”
“This kid’s a marshmallow. He’s afraid of his own shadow. He couldn’t kill a mosquito, I swear to God. Now, will you just leave me alone for a minute?”
“Did you mention him to the agents, by any chance?”
“Of course not,” he said. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m telling you, there’s no way. That kid’s like a beaten dog.”
“Maybe there’s more to him than you think,” I said. “When’s the last time you saw him?”
“I don’t know. Like four years ago? Yeah, right after the fire.”
It took me a moment to process those last words. It took him the same moment to realize what he had just said. We had both been in that same basement, watching that same film. We had both seen the same scene. The same fire.
“Oh my God,” he said, his face turning white.
“What fire, Connie?”
“The fire that killed his father. Bobby was eighteen then. Sean was seventeen. He came down to stay with us for a couple of days. Hardly said a word the whole time.”
“Came down from where?”
“From up north. He lived in Houghton then. I think he was getting ready to go to that college, the one in Houghton.”
“Michigan Tech.”
“Yeah,” Connie said. “That’s the one. Michigan Tech.”
“Is he still up there?”
“I don’t know. I guess. Probably.”
“Does Sean still talk to him?”
“Maybe. Once in a while. He always felt bad for him, I know that.”
“Unlike you, who couldn’t give a damn about him. Your half -nephew.”
“Screw you anyway,” he said, “but wait, are we really both thinking-”
“Yeah,” I said. “We’re both thinking we just figured out who your son went to see.”
“Hold on.” He rolled over to get up. I could see his pants were soaked.
“We don’t have any more time to waste,” I said. “Do you have an address for this kid?”
“Why would he go see Bobby? That’s insane! We have to find him!”
“Connie, do you have an address or not?”
“No! He wasn’t even in college yet. I have no idea.”
“A phone number? Anything?”
“No!”
“Okay, then I’ll just start heading up there. I’ll call the agents on the way.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“The hell you are,” I said. “You’ve got a movie to finish, remember? Sorry to mess up your new ending, by the way. It looks like your father might not have been a murderer after all.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
When I got back on the road, I picked up my cell phone and called Agent Long. All those times I’d been tempted to call her, this sure as hell wasn’t the conversation I had in mind.
“Listen carefully,” I said. “Did an agent talk to Sean Wiley this morning?”
“Alex, what’s going on?”
“Just tell me. Did an agent talk to Sean Wiley?”
“That’s the grandson. Yes.”
“Did he say anything about his cousin?”
There was a moment of silence on the line.
“Alex, what cousin?” she said.
“God damn it.”
“What are you talking about? What cousin?”
“Clyde C. Wiley has another grandson,” I said. “From his daughter Corina. His name is Bobby Bergman, and apparently he’s going to school at Michigan Tech.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m on the road, just outside of Bad Axe. Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes. So let me get this information before I kill you. Bobby Bergman. Michigan Tech. How did you find this out?”
“Connie told me.”
“Connie? What are you doing talking to him? I swear to God, Alex…”
“Just listen. Bobby’s father’s name was Darryl Bergman. When Wiley was arrested ten years ago? It all started with an attack on Darryl.”
“I remember that part, yes. But I don’t remember anything about a son…”
“You had no reason to look for that,” I said, “but now you’ll probably want to go dig up the full arrest record.”
“I’ll look into it. So you’re on your way back home now, right?”
“That’s one option.”
“Alex-”
“I think Sean’s headed up to Houghton,” I said. “If you can find out where Bobby Bergman lives, you’d better send somebody out there right away. In fact, you know what, I talked to the Houghton County undersheriff when I was up there. You should give him a call and have him go find Bergman before something else happens.”
“Okay, wait. If he’s really at Michigan Tech-”
“That would be a hell of a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”
“Because one of our victims went to school there.”
“Exactly. Plus there’s a good chance Bergman has the right kind of camera to make that film.”
Another silence.
“Tell me what you’re really saying here, Alex. Are you saying this kid is the one we’re looking for?”
