Murder Deja Vu

He’d swear he forced her to go with him, that she didn’t have a choice. She’d balk, but he’d make her understand. What difference would it make if the feds added kidnapping to the charges against him?
    He looked at Frank, his body visually wilting in his chair. “You need to get some rest, Frank, and so do I. Tomorrow’s a big day. I’ll either be caught or I’ll find out who’s framing me for the second time. If neither of those things happen, I will give myself up. Whichever, it’ll be over.”
    Lana helped Frank up. He touched her hand. “Give me my shot, love, then I want to talk to Reece alone in the parlor. You two can drink some tea in the kitchen until I’m through. Or better yet, Lana, open that bottle of good wine. We could all use a drink.”
    “Tomorrow,” Lana said. “You need to rest.”
    He reached for her. “Please.”
    Lana didn’t argue. She helped Frank settle in his chair. He seemed to be in pain, but he didn’t complain. Not Frank. Reece wondered what his friend thought of him all those years when he teetered on the brink of losing it. Not that he spoke of the conflicts. He didn’t speak at all.
    Frank winked at Dana, a gesture to mask his feelings while Lana gave him his shot. Reece couldn’t imagine that if he had seen his father today, he would have felt anything close to what he felt for Frank, whose pain burned into Reece as if he suffered it himself. A man so different from the father who had given him life and whom he had loved and respected before his arrest. And yet, he loved Frank—this thief and murderer who taught him how to survive and who had saved his life.
    The heat of Dana’s stare bore into him. In the last couple of days, she had seen the man behind Frank’s rough façade and had fallen hard. She would suffer his loss too. Lana kissed Frank and took Dana’s hand to lead her into the kitchen.
    “In my most vivid dreams in prison when I thought of getting out,” Frank said, “I never saw an ending like this. I always thought it would be with a knife in my gut or a bullet in the head, but never like this.” He checked the kitchen to see if anyone could hear. “And it still could be that way.”
    Reece took his hand, a collection of bones under a layer of parchment skin, and he felt the familiar gnawing in his stomach.
    Frank’s hangdog eyes pleaded. “It wouldn’t be a coward’s way, would it?”
    Was there a right answer? He didn’t know, but he knew his, right or wrong. “Not if that’s the way you choose.”
    “You mean you wouldn’t try to talk me out of it?”
    Reece forced out the word. “No.”
    The old man let out a breath. “I hoped you’d say that. There’s enough morphine here to do the trick. But I don’t want to do it alone so someone would blame Lana after. And they would, you know. I couldn’t stand that. With the three of you here—”
    “If I could suffer your pain—”
    “No, no, no. Shh . Don’t. Don’t ever say that. You have a life to live yet. You’ve suffered enough pain you shouldn’t have. I fucked up a good part of my life. Maybe this is God’s way to get even.” Frank coughed out a laugh. “Aw, shit. What the hell am I talking about? Like I believe in God. I don’t. Never did. I’m turning this into some morbid death bed confession when all I want to know is if I choose to go out on my own terms, would you hate me?”
    Reece swallowed back the raw emotion. He couldn’t let go and upset Frank. “No. You’re the father I love, Frank. I could never hate you.”
    Frank nodded. “That’s all I wanted to know.”
    “Have you discussed this with Lana?”
    “Yes. Like you, she says it’s my decision, and I call the shots. Funny way of putting it. Whether needle or gun, it’d be a shot, wouldn’t it?” His laugh drifted off. “She doesn’t want to be here if that’s what I decide to do. I’ll see. I can still handle it. I’ve got time.”
    Reece could see now that Frank didn’t have a lot of time. He needed the meds more frequently to combat the pain. Soon he would slip into a drug stupor and not come out. Maybe that was the best way, but it wasn’t Reece’s decision to make. “I’ll be here.”
    He nodded. “You thought of it inside, didn’t you?” Frank asked.
    Reece didn’t have to think long or shade the truth. Not with Frank. “Yes. More than once. Not because I couldn’t take it, although there were days I wondered what kind of stuff I was made of, but because of the