The room hung silent. Peter closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Jeff waited with bated breath.
“Jake,” Randy spoke up softly. “You never told me about any note.”
Jake cleared his throat again, straightening and taking a deep breath. “Yeah, well, now you know. I’ve carried it with me for forty-eight years.” Jeff was astounded to see tears in Jake’s eyes.
Peter started writing again. “Well then, we’ll just make up a birth date and figure the year to be 1836. Surely there are records of your birth. Texas, wasn’t it? I have your mother’s name, although you’ll have to spell it out for me. I’m not fluent in Spanish.”
Randy grasped Jake’s hand again and he spelled his mother’s name for Peter.
“Thanks.” He looked at Jake. “Now, if I know the town where you think you were born, and your father’s full name—”
“No!” Jake barked. “You make up a date and leave it at that. I don’t want my father’s name mentioned in any way. Not in any way! Not in those papers and not in Jeff’s book. If his name has to be mentioned, then I’m not doing this at all!”
Peter set down the ink pen and leaned forward. “Jake, although I am risking you putting a gun to my head for asking, I have to ask it.” He paused, weighing his words and swallowing before speaking. “How do you expect Jeff to write this book if he can’t settle for once and for all what happened to your father? It’s the one thing that hangs over your head…the one question everybody wonders about but is afraid to ask, as I am sure Jeff is afraid to ask. The book won’t be complete until you clarify that one thing from your past. If that isn’t settled, the book won’t tell the whole story, and your grandchildren will never understand that part of their grandfather.”
Jeff wanted to crawl under the man’s desk. Jake sat glaring at Peter, his dark eyes smoldering. The tension inside the small room could have been cut with a knife, and Peter kept a steady eye on Jake. Randy let out a little groan and looked away. Jeff wondered if Jake was going to speak at all, or if maybe he’d just pull a gun any minute and shoot Peter Brown.
“You know I’m right, Jake,” Peter told him. “This is man-to-man. I sincerely am not trying to upset you, and God knows I don’t like upsetting your wife. I know I’m asking the forbidden question, but you really need to understand that all the other truths about you will do no good if that one little matter isn’t cleared up. Everyone knows you killed your own father, but no one knows why. The why is all that’s necessary to the truth, and you said that’s what you want this book to be—the truth.”
“The truth is I killed him, plain and simple,” Jake nearly shouted. “And for a damn good reason! I’ll be the one to decide if and when I tell Jeff all of it, so right now just let it go!”
The words were spoken with such wrath that Peter literally backed up his chair. Jeff froze in place. He wanted to make notes but was afraid to even move his hand. Peter’s secretary tapped on the office door.
“Is everything all right in there, Mr. Brown?”
Peter watched Jake, who glared back at him. “Is everything all right, Jake?”
“Jake, you’re hurting my hand again,” Randy told him.
Again he let go. Randy got up and went to stand behind him, putting her hands on his shoulders. “Everything is fine, Nancy,” she called to Peter’s secretary.
“If you say so, Mrs. Harkner.”
Randy pressed her fingers into Jake’s shoulders. “I say so.”
Unbelievable, Jeff thought. If she can control that man when he’s like this, she could probably walk into a cage full of tigers and make them all lie down.
Jake closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He reached up and grasped one of Randy’s hands. “Sit down,” he told her.
“After you apologize for yelling at Peter. Your past isn’t his fault, Jake. He’s just doing his job, and you’re the one who asked for this meeting.”
Jake squeezed her hand. “Sit down, Randy.”
She sighed deeply and took her chair. Jake ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He clasped his hands behind his head, squeezing them together so tight that Jeff noticed his knuckles turn white.
“I’ll make a deal with you, Peter. If you can accomplish the other thing I came here for, I’ll tell you my father’s name and you can do all the research you want. And I had already considered having to tell Jeff…what happened…and owning up to my grandchildren. It’s just…I feel like it’s no one’s goddamn business…but I know I can’t die with it either, because then no one will ever know the truth.”