Chapter 2

Bobby stood outside the terminal, his suitcase resting on the curb beside him. He wore jeans, a button down over his t-shirt, and a light windbreaker. The weather in Michigan was a little on the damp side today, not exactly raining, but dramatic clouds overhead that threatened to open up and pour at the least provocation. He'd clipped his badge to the neckline of his t-shirt. It was the only way Kathy would recognize him.

"Robert?" she said, and he spun to his left. She was a year younger than him, with a full head of short, straight gray hair. She was flanked by a tall man in his 30s. He hung back politely, but he was obviously there for her protection.

"Kathy?"

She smiled at him, and there followed an awkward moment that might have been a handshake but turned into a hug. "It's good to meet you," she told Bobby as she pulled away. She gestured to the man beside her. "This is Dale. He's a friend," she explained.

Bobby understood completely. Their father was Mark Ford Brady, after all. He picked up his suitcase and followed them to her cluttered van. Dale politely took the back seat, in the middle of the soccer gear and left-behind homework papers.

"I could have gotten a cab," Bobby said.

"Oh, no one does that out here. It would have cost you an arm and a leg."

"Still, you're missing work—"

"St. Michael's has been very good about everything to do with my… family," Kathy said. She was the librarian at the Catholic School in Lebanon, that much Bobby had learned from their phone conversations.

Bobby nodded silently from his perch in the front passenger seat. "Thank you," he finally mumbled politely.

"Your husband…?" he asked.

"He works here in Lansing. He'll be home for dinner tonight."

"Good. I'd like to... to meet him. The kids are in school?"

"Oh, yes. Martin's a junior this year. And Molly is in 4th grade, and Timmy is in 3rd. Do you have any children, Robert?"

"Oh… no. I, uh… I never married." The rest of the hour long drive was filled with small talk. Bobby was very tight-lipped about his family. It still hurt to talk about them. It hurt a lot.

"Thank you, Dale," Kathy said when they had all settled into her living room.

He threw her a look of warning, but she threw a stern look back at him. Bobby didn't miss any of it. He understood the reason for their caution, but it didn't make it any less uncomfortable.

"You'll be in Martin's bedroom," Kathy announced. "Just up the stairs on the right side. There's a bathroom at the end of that hall up there, and one down here as well.

Bobby muttered his thanks and took his suitcase upstairs. He studied Martin's things, trying not to investigate too deeply, but his raging curiosity was hard to keep at bay. He used the restroom as well, and when he returned to Kathy downstairs, Dale was gone.

"Do you like coffee?" Kathy asked, and Bobby nodded. She motioned for him to sit at the table, and he did. She passed him a steaming mug, offering cream and sugar, which he declined. Then she joined him at the table with her own cup in front of her.

"This may be our only chance to talk," she told him. "Once the kids get home, all the priorities change. And Hank, he knows about Brady, but he gets very… uncomfortable… when I try to talk about him."

Bobby nodded. "It's a very uncomfortable thing," he said quietly.

"You said you met him?"

"Investigated him… those last… confessions… he would only talk to me and my partner about them."

"It must have been horrible. Did you know? Did he know?"

"I didn't know he was my father. It was something I sort of… discovered along the way." Bobby chewed his bottom lip and took a small sip of coffee. "I think he knew about me. It seemed like maybe he knew." He told Eames that ledger was a birthday present for me, Bobby thought. My birthday is in August, nowhere near the date he was executed.

"What was he like?" she asked.

Bobby frowned and scratched his beard with his hand. "He was very smart," he said. He didn't want to tell her how horrible he was, that meeting him in person gave a depth to the horror of the crimes he'd committed that could never come through by simply reading about him or watching the news. "He spoke German, I guess he learned that when he was stationed there in the Army."

"I saw him on television. And of course the night of the execution. On tv, he seemed happy. Proud. That night, he seemed… defiant."

Again, Bobby let go a small nod. "He knew it was over."

"It gave me chills, reading what he'd done."

Bobby nodded again, and his teeth squeezed over his bottom lip. "How did you find out?"

"My mother told me," she said. "My mother met him at the lake. In Sullivan County. That's where she grew up. She worked at the little hardware store there. I guess he came in looking for some tools or something. She dated him for several months and then when he'd gone back to New York, she found out she was pregnant. My Granddad was furious. He moved the family here, made up some story about her being raped. Well, maybe it wasn't a lie after all," Kathy amended. "But Mom never said she was raped. She said she was a stupid teenager who fell in love."

"He never knew about you?"

"Granddad went back up there once. Mom said Grandma told her it was to find Brady and make him do his duty as a father. But Granddad came back and never spoke a word about it. Grandma found out Brady had a reputation by then. He had two and three and even four women in and out of that shack every month. And from his reputation in town, he never had any money to his name. If he had known about me, it would have only complicated things for all of us. So no one ever told him." Kathy took a long drink of coffee.

"My mother was up there with him… once," Bobby said, before he realized that wasn't a story he wanted to share.

"Oh?"

He shook his head. "It ended badly." With that, Bobby changed the subject. He asked her about her life, and her husband and kids. He told her about Korea and his time on the force. At 3:30, the kids arrived home from school.

"Eames," she said.

"Alex," Bobby said.

"Bobby! How are you?"

"Fine, you know. Fine. I'm in Michigan," he said.

"Michigan? That's good. Are you having a good time?"

"Yeah, uh… you know, yeah." He chewed on the inside of his cheek. "It's nothing like the city. All farmland and stuff."

"Sounds like a nice change."

"I miss you."

His words hit her hard, and knocked her for a loop. "I'm here, Bobby. You wanna talk?"

"N-no. Not on the phone. Not like this. I just wanted to say… I miss you."

"I miss you, too."