I leaned in to Dad when Alicia excused herself to use the washroom, watching her go as I spoke.

"You're a big idiot," I said. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Same," he said. And sighed. "Never mind," he winked at me, good humor in his eyes, "you tried to, didn't you? So, I'll accept the idiot label. If you'll admit you thought your old man killed Pete Wilkins." He seemed highly amused by that.

"Not as bad as you thinking your daughter did," I said. Paused. "Or ...