Nate set the groceries on the floor, and Charlie woofed and shuffled to him, his whole body wiggling with doggy glee. Nate patted Charlie’s head and went into the living room, where Moira was watching a soap opera. The fireplace was lit, cheerful crackles filling the space. Four Christmas stockings were hung from the mantel, including one for the dog. The Christmas tree twinkled in its warm glow.

He bent and kissed his mother on the forehead.

“Josh is having a nap,” Moira said, looking like she needed one too.

“Where’s Emma?”

“Working late.”

Nate turned away to hide his scowl.

“I got a call from your dad’s nursing home today. He has pneumonia again.”

Nate sat next to his mom and grasped her hand. “Oh no.”

Fear ripened in his belly. Pneumonia was dangerous for stroke victims, and his dad had suffered far too many bouts lately.

“You need to go see him. I know it isn’t easy, but it’s time.”

Nate scrubbed a hand over his jaw. It had been a few days since he’d shaved. There had been no time. He only had a few weeks to crack this case, maybe less if Kia put together the pieces and zeroed in on Emma’s clinic.

“Sure, Ma. I’ll go soon.”

Nate moved to stand, but Moira put a firm hand on his knee. “Nate. Sit down.”

Nate sat back, surprised. Moira wasn’t the type to be pushy or dogmatic. She’d always given her opinions and let him choose his own course, raising him with a strong sense of justice, of right and wrong, good and bad.

Tears glittered on Moira’s eyelashes. “I think it’s time you knew the truth about your father.”

Nate stared at his mother. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve built him up to be this god, and he just isn’t. He was a loving father, a wonderful husband, a pillar of the community. But he did things—unforgivable things.…” She faltered and looked at her hands.

“What’d he do, Ma?”

When Moira lifted her eyes, Nate could see red spiderwebbed across the white. “He used his job to protect drug dealers and took kickbacks for it.”

“What? No way.” Nate stood abruptly. Moira stood too, facing him.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true. I found a stash of money after the stroke, and I spoke to one of the dealers when he called the house.”

“Jesus Christ,” Nate swore, even though he knew his mother didn’t like it.

“We are all capable of great and terrible things. Your dad did some terrible things, and you need to know that. You refuse to see flaws in the people you love. You need to see your dad as he really was, not as you wish he was. That way you can say good-bye properly.”