“That’s ridiculous.”
Dad turned toward him.
“You told Natalie she was finally out of the family.”
Grant said nothing.
“You arranged to evaluate my truck before you had seen a death certificate.”
Nothing.
“You came here to change the locks.”
Nothing.
“And yesterday somebody called my funeral provider, contacted my attorney, and tried to interfere with my phone.”
That finally got a reaction.
Vanessa looked at Grant.
Not at Dad.
At Grant.
I saw it.
Dad saw it too.
Grant immediately said, “I didn’t touch your phone.”
Dad did not blink.
“I didn’t ask if you did.”
The officer nearest us became more attentive.
Vanessa whispered, “Grant.”
He snapped, “What?”
“Stop talking.”
Dad looked at me.
That was when I understood why he had insisted on coming instead of confronting them by phone.
People reveal different truths when there is nowhere to hang up.
The officers separated Vanessa and Grant and started asking questions.
Dad stood beside me in the cold.
He looked exhausted.
I touched his arm.
“Want to go inside?”
He shook his head.
“Not yet.”
Harold called while we waited.
Dad answered.
