I don’t know if I can do this... talk to someone about that part of my life with Paul. I’ve never told a soul. When I was younger I was too afraid, and as I got older, I was too embarrassed and angry to let it out.

The ringing noise continues to ricochet through my head, until I realize it’s my cell and not the reverberations from the gun. It’s Soph, I haven’t checked in with her yet, and she’s probably her usual worried self.

“Hey.”

“Cove?”

“Yeah Dove, what’s up?” I mumble.

“I can barely hear you. Where are you guys?”

“Hold on, gotta turn down my music.” I kneel and quit iTunes then set my head on my desk. That took way too much energy.

“You were supposed to call me when you got there to let me know what’s going on. Remember?”

“Sorry. Yeah, the cops are gone. So’s Haverty.” Shit, I hope the cops are gone and didn’t hear that shot.

“What? Why? Everything okay?”

“Fine, Soph. I’ve got work to do. I need to place an order... did you finish payroll?”

“It’s taking care of, and by the way, you sound terrible. What happened?”

“Nothing. Haverty doesn’t know anything.”

She’s silent for a few minutes, and I use the time and the last of my strength to take a seat at my desk. Her sighs are a signal that she’s waiting for me to speak, but my depression has drained me to the point where it hurts to move my mouth, so I put off any further conversation.

“You drinking?” she whispers.

“No,” I lie.

“Cove...”

“I’ll be home by ten, alright?”

“You mad at me ‘bout something?”

“No,” I exhale. “I’m sorry, I just need an hour or two alone. You good with that?”

“Ten? You promise?”

“Uh-huh”

“Love you,” she says.

“Love you too,” I whisper, end the call, and swivel in my chair while staring at my computer screen. She still hasn’t asked about my session with the shrink, and I can tell she wants to know, but my secrecy is insensitive considering how mature she’s been with certain things lately. She’s passing right by me, growing up, starting to act responsibly, while I’m just as much of a mess as ever. Each day I see small changes in her. It’s not a drastic overnight transformation, but enough that I’ve taken notice. I fuckin’ love that woman... just hope I can keep up with her so she doesn’t leave me. I think the pregnancy is what really did it for her, and for myself, I always thought it was going to be her, that she was going to save me from my terrors, but now I know I’ll have to rescue myself.

I glance over the folders on my desktop and open the surveillance cameras that are in the Scarlett. Five windows appear; one of which is a display of my office. God, I wish we had one for the back lot, then I’d fucking know what happened to David. I’ll have Haverty get on that first thing in the morning. It’s not gonna happen again.

It’s been months since I’ve viewed this system. No need, since Haverty takes care of a lot of it for me, but when the business first opened I kept an eye on it daily. I have remote access from home, and that’s where I usually watch it.

“No shit,” I whisper and notice the icon for the one closed window off to the side. “Dumbass... can’t even remember you have sixth camera? Where’s your fucking head?”

The outside entrance camera. At one time, there were lines of people in front of our building waiting to get in, but with much of the college crowd gone for the summer, and no wait at the door, I closed the window back in the spring to allow for a larger workspace on my desktop. The camera still runs, I just haven’t been viewing it.

I bring up the day’s footage, wondering if I’ll come across David passing by our door. It’s a long shot, but not impossible. Maybe I’ll even see if he was with someone.

The clock on the bottom right flips through minutes, and then hours. I fast forward through the morning and find nothing unusual. Haverty passed by at eight with the dogs, and the fat one, Max, pissed on our front brick. Those bulldogs are beasts, just like their owner. I’m gonna make that asshat wash the front before we open tomorrow. Give him a few chores to do.

Nine, ten, eleven, noon... nothing. This district is dead during the day, all evening businesses. One, two, and then three o’clock... then close to four.

“Dad,” I whisper.

My father’s at the front about to open the door, but stops and turns when a hand rests on his shoulder. He’s talking to someone. “Who the fuck is that?” I slow the footage as my heart pounds and anxiety kicks in. Christ, what was he doing here? I wish I could pan out but the camera’s set in a specific position.

Two figures appear in the scene. Women. I can tell by their attire.

“Kaitlyn and Ivy.”

I don’t know why the fuck he couldn’t just tell me he was meeting them this afternoon. Must not have mentioned it to my mother... damn him. They move out of the shot and only the sidewalk remains in view. I exit the footage and set the computer window back to its current setting; noticing the sun has set, and without the Scarlett’s outdoor lights on, I can’t see much of anything. David wasn’t shot after that time, would’ve been too late in the day, and he was supposed to be in the park at three but never showed. It had to have happened before then.

I lean back in the chair, rocking back and forth with frustration, and then call my father. He picks up on the first ring.

“Cove, can I call you back? Your mother and I are talking right now.”

“No. Tell me what time you were at the Scarlett today,” I demand as I grind my teeth.

“I... we’re in the middle of something...” he sighs and I hear the terrace door slide open and shut behind him. “How did you know I was there?” he whispers.

“The fucking camera, that’s how.”

“So then you know the time. What do you want?”

“Goddammit, Dad. I want to know if you got there before four?”

“No,” he replies in a soft voice. “The three of us met at that time, but decided it wasn’t the best place to talk, so we went elsewhere.”

“You know, I can’t believe how full of...”

“You done?” my father cuts me off before my aggression pulls our relationship into an even deeper hole.

I remind myself to chill... make amends... repair this. “Alright. Enjoy your evening.” I toss my phone on my desk without waiting for his goodbye, and then get to work.

Complete orders, pay bills, go over two applications and make a note to call references; it’s amazing how digitized our lives have become. I can work any hour of the day or night because everything’s online. Business orders, bank accounts, utilities, and after an hour I feel better that the items with approaching deadlines are taken care of, and everything else can be finished tomorrow while we’re open.

I look at the screen and tap my finger splints on the keyboard, wondering who the online Cove Everton is today. Sophia looked us up a few months ago, but thank fucking God she didn’t come across much, just the business and one family photo that was shot in front of the Scarlett for our website. I want a private life and I’m not the social media type, but Sophia sure loves it. She has a Facebook site, but who doesn’t, I mean besides me? I’m sure our kid will have one by the time he or she is five.

Soph sometimes bugs me to Google myself, which I never do. But now, with David’s so-called suicide, I have a feeling my name’s gonna show up in cyberspace over the next couple of days as owner of the business where it occurred, and you can never get rid of that shit once it’s out there. Can anyone in this world keep a private life from this point on, or will we all eventually end up with a digital identity? I guess nowadays that starts at birth with the digital announcement. Yeah, with newspapers disappearing left and right, kids are online from the time they take their first breath.