Progeny by E. H. Reinhard Read Free Book Online Page B

Samantha and I did the same thing. Great house, were getting ready to start a family, and then poof, gone.”
    “Well, get over it. No one knows the future, Son. Did you think that I knew when you came to visit I’d get shot in the ass? That’s why you’re not asking her to marry you too, isn’t it? You’re scared it won’t work out in the future?”
    I tapped my fingernails on my right hand against the top of my laptop. “Maybe.”
    “Carl, listen close. Are you listening?”
    “Yeah, Dad.”
    “Stop being stupid. Don’t waste a second of your life. Before you know it, you’ll be an old geriatric like me. Ask that girl to marry you, buy that house if you want it, and get ready for your son or daughter. Get married and be happy. Stop pussyfooting around.” He fired his words off like a drill sergeant.
    I was silent.
    “Did you hear me?” he asked.
    “Yeah, I got it.”
    “Good. I’ll have Sandy send you down a bill for my counseling.”
    I smirked. The timer for the oven went off.
    “Thanks, Dad. Hey, I have to run, I’m in the middle of making dinner.”
    “Sure. Call me after you look at the place and let me know. And do what I say.”
    “All right.”
    “Love you, Son. Bye.” He hung up.
    I flipped the screen on my laptop closed and went back to tending the food. Butch went back to observing. As I pulled the meatballs from the oven, I heard the front door open. Butch leapt from the chair to go and meet Callie at the door. She wouldn’t get his usual foot thrashing—she would be greeted with love. I believed he was genuinely happy to see her when she got home. I watched Callie as she lifted Butch in her free arm, set her school books down on the table, and walked into the kitchen.
    “Hey, babe. What are you cooking?”
    “Spaghetti.”
    “Really?” she asked.
    “I told you I would make you dinner.”
    “Good. Because we are starving.”
    She often spoke as if she was two people, which I guessed she was, technically. I was beginning to accept the thought of becoming a father, which was good because I didn’t really have another option.
    Callie rubbed Butch behind the ears and set him down. She came to me and kissed me on the side of my face.
    “When did you get home?” she asked.
    “Eight-ish.”
    “How is your case?”
    I shrugged. “Kind of up in the air at the moment.”
    “I heard some of what was going on over the radio. Is it true what they were saying? Skinned?” she asked.
    I nodded. “It’s bad.”
    Callie let out a breath. “I don’t know how you can stomach dealing with that kind of stuff.”
    “It affects me. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t, but my job is making sure the people who are capable of doing those sorts of things are removed from society. Enough about work—how was class?” I asked.
    “Same as usual. I just have to get it done. Do you want some help with the food?”
    “Um. Do you want to do the garlic bread? I’m just about set with everything else.”
    “Sure.”
    My cell phone buzzed and vibrated across the granite breakfast bar.
    “Want it?” Callie asked.
    “Yeah, I better. It’s probably work.”
    Callie scooped up my phone and held it out to me. I wiped my hands on a paper towel and took it. The captain was calling. I clicked Talk.
    “Cap.”
    “I just got a call. We may have something,” he said.
    “Okay,” I said. “What?”
    “We got a call at the station about an hour ago from Green Gardens. It’s an assisted living community off of West Hillsborough Avenue—just a little west of the river. One of their residents went missing from his apartment there. His description matches approximate age, height, and weight.”
    “Do we have a name and family contact information?” I asked.
    “The name is Henry Pullman. I have the name of this man’s daughter as the contact. I’m going to have you and Rawlings head over to this Green Gardens place in the morning and see what you can get.”
    “How are we even going to know if