Chapter 7 - Walter Had Called My Father Without Asking Me
Walter expected anger.
He still underestimated the amount.
I returned to the range the next morning without a firearm evaluation.
Just conversation.
Public lobby.
Walter behind the counter.
“Coffee?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
“Why did you call Caleb?”
He leaned both hands on the counter.
“Your booking came through.”
“So?”
“Ethan Carter.”
“Common name.”
“Not with your date of birth.”
My stomach tightened.
“You recognized me from records?”
“Your emergency contact listed Claire Carter.”
I stared.
“That was enough?”
Walter looked ashamed.
“No.”
“What else?”
“Your face.”
I laughed.
“Great.”
“You look like him.”
“Everybody keeps deciding things from my face.”
Walter nodded once.
“Fair.”
“Why call him?”
“I knew the history.”
“Whose version?”
He stopped.
“Caleb's.”
“Exactly.”
Walter came around the counter.
Not closer than necessary.
“He talked about you.”
“Apparently everybody knows more about me than I know about them.”
Walter accepted that.
“I thought he'd want to know you were coming.”
“You thought.”
“Yes.”
“Did you think I might want to know he was alive?”
That hit.
“I did.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
Walter looked toward the range door.
“Because I didn't know what Claire had told you.”
“That's exactly why you ask.”
“Yes.”
“But instead you called him.”
“Yes.”
“And let him watch.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Walter took a long breath.
“I wanted him to do something.”
There.
“What?”
“Stop hiding.”
“By hiding upstairs.”
Walter almost smiled, then realized he didn't deserve it.
“Bad execution.”
“Bad premise.”
“Yes.”
I leaned against the counter.
“How long have you known Caleb?”
“Thirty years.”
“Were you his friend?”
“Sometimes.”
“That's not an answer.”
“Friends fight.”
Fair.
Walter continued.
“Gordon hired me when the old range opened. Caleb trained staff. I stayed after the business changed hands.”
“What happened between them?”
“Nothing dramatic at first.”
The brothers wanted different things.
Gordon wanted the range to become a family institution.
Caleb wanted to sell and move on.
Then Claire had me.
Caleb split attention.
Gordon took it personally.
Mason grew up inside that resentment.
“Did Gordon hate my mother?”
“No.”
“Me?”
“No.”
“Then?”
Walter thought.
“Gordon hated that Caleb could leave.”
That was better.
“Could Gordon?”
“Of course.”
“Did he?”
“No.”
Family difference mistaken for betrayal.
Again.
I asked:
“Why Lane Two?”
Walter looked at me.
“Caleb used it during staff demonstrations.”
“So Mom remembered.”
“Yes.”
“Did Mason know?”
“Everybody who worked here long enough knew.”
“Then why use that lane for the fake target?”
Walter's face tightened.
“That was Mason's choice.”
I thought.
Mason had fired the fake session in his uncle's old lane.
Not random.
“What did he want Caleb to see?”
Walter looked at the floor.
“Maybe the same thing you wanted me to see.”
“What?”
“That he could do it without him.”
I stared.
Competing for the attention of a man who had stopped answering.
Using my name to do it.
That made me angry in a different way.
Less clean.
Still mine.
Walter said:
“I can redo your evaluation under another officer.”
“No.”
He looked surprised.
“Why?”
“Because I don't know if I want to do anything in this building right now.”
“Fair.”
“My program deadline is Friday.”
“I can give you a list of other accredited facilities.”
“That would help.”
He nodded.
No pitch to stay.
Good.
Then he asked:
“Will you meet Caleb?”
I stared at him.
He caught himself.
“Sorry.”
“Exactly.”
Walter turned back toward the counter.
Before I left, he said:
“Ethan.”
“What?”
“If you never come back here, I understand.”
I nodded.
Then:
“But if you do, Lane Two won't be treated like family property.”
I looked through the glass.
“It's a shooting lane.”
May you like
“Yes.”
That was the point.
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