By Peter Lewis
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Additional info for Babe Stern 01 - Dead in the Dregs
I pulled them out one by one and opened the flaps. “Books,” I said, peering into the first, “magazines and newsletters,” I said, opening the second, “and maps,” I said, tapping the third. “Hunh” was all my son had to say. He flopped back on his pillow, turned his back to me, and resumed playing. I hauled the boxes one at a time and put them under the kitchen table at the front of the trailer. ” I cried. After dinner, Danny got into his pajamas and snuggled in his sleeping bag. We read a couple chapters of The Sword in the Stone.
An immaculate morning in the wine country. I hit speed dial. Janie picked up after a couple of rings. “Danny? ” “No, it’s me. Janie . ” I didn’t know how to tell her. ” “Where is he, the stupid jerk? ” “Janie . ” “What is it? A DUI? I hope they locked him up. Richard Wilson, in the clink for drunk driving! ” “Oh, no,” she moaned. ” She finally grew silent. ” “Should I . . ” I knew what she was asking. “Stay put. There’s nothing you can do here. They found him in a vat at Norton. ” I heard her gasp.
I hesitated. ” “Wilson,” I supplied. “Richard Wilson,” she said. ” “I should have told you. I wanted to. It’s just that . ” “I’m trying to put the past behind me,” I said limply. “You can never put your past behind you. ” The cigar was out. I left it sitting on the table and walked back inside. ” I pulled a pizza from the freezer and turned the oven on. While it was cooking, I walked back to the beds. ” I said. He put down the DS his mother had bought him—the Game Boy I’d given him wasn’t cool enough—and sat up.