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“Did you bring the feds with you,” Greg asked, “or were you just a witless dupe?”
“I was trying to help you,” Myron said.
“Guys,” Jeremy tried again.
“Did a great job of that, didn’t you?”
“I almost lost a toe,” Myron said.
“A baby toe, don’t be so dramatic.”
“Guys,” Jeremy said again, but this time there was some steel behind it. He wasn’t the son of either of them in that moment. He was the military leader. Both men shut up.
Jeremy nodded as though satisfied. Then he said, “I’m going to leave you two alone.”
Greg: “What?”
Myron: “Wait, why?”
“Because,” Jeremy said, again adding that authority to his voice that didn’t leave room for any protest, “Myron is an attorney. Anything you say to him falls under attorney-client privilege. You don’t enjoy that same protection with me.” Jeremy rose, turning his attention to Myron. “Signal me when it’s okay for me to come back.” He knocked on the door. A guard opened it. Jeremy slipped out.
Greg was still staring at the door. “That kid,” he said.
“I know.”
“Makes up for a host of sins,” Greg said. Then, turning his gaze to Myron, “Makes it easier to forgive.”
“For me or for you?” Then Myron raised his hand in a stop gesture. “We don’t want to dig up old grievances, do we?”
“Or even new ones,” Greg said. “So let’s get to it, okay?”
He didn’t add “for Jeremy’s sake.” He didn’t have to.
“Emily said you knew Cecelia Callister,” Myron began.
“I told you that,” Greg said. “A long time ago.”
“Emily says you were upset when Ben and Cecelia got divorced.”
“‘Upset’ is a pretty strong word.”
“What word would you use?”
“I thought it was scummy on her part. Leaving her husband after getting pregnant. Not telling him whose baby she was carrying.”
The echo with their past clanged loudly and obviously. Myron pushed through it.
“Did you ever sleep with her?”
“Cecelia Callister?”
“Yes.”
Greg smiled. “Wait. You don’t think—”
“I’m just trying to find connections.”
“No, I never slept with her.”
