The LossI felt so stunned that for a moment, I couldn’t speak.
Tony got a puzzled look on his face. “My father seems rather calm about the matter.”
For a dozen years, I’d believed Peedro Sluff to be my father. “I’d better sit down.”
“Oh, gods, yes. Of course.” Tony brought me to the sofa, and there we sat.
Too much was happening. “What ... how?”
Tony let out a breath. “He was shot in his liquor store, sometime last night after he closed up. The police were called mid-morning when he didn’t open the store and no knocking could rouse him.”
The poor man, I thought. Just when he was finally getting his life back together.
“I’m sorry, Jacqui. This has to be a shock.”
Then the tears came. “No matter what Mr. Hart tells me, I still think of Peedro as my father.”
* * *
We took dinner in
