Dean put his book down. “I’ll give you your privacy,” he said.
“No. Stay.”
“I’m right here,” Summer said.
Dean nodded, picked up his book again, though Quentin knew he wasn’t so much reading it as putting a barrier between himself and Quentin’s business. Dean always made a point of not invading his space. But Quentin never minded. In fact, he appreciated it, growing up the way he had, almost always alone.
“I was talking to Dean,” he told Summer. “Not you.”
“Oh. So, what was the problem? Your grandfather wasn’t at home?”
“No, he was at home.”
“He refused to talk?”
“Oh, he talked.”
“Then that’s great!”
“No it isn’t.”
“Of course it is. If he was home and he spoke to you and you got it recorded, there’s absolutely no way that it isn’t great.”
Quentin said nothing—just plugged the phone into his laptop and played her the whole of the interview.
He hopped back on the phone expecting a long, awkward silence, or at least a pause. But his coproducer was as unfazed as ever. “His description of the shooting is pretty good. We can use that.”
“Summer.”
“My job is to be objective when you can’t be.”
“Summer.”
“Okay. Look. Your grandfather turns out to be kind of a dick. I know that has to hurt. I’m not completely insensitive. But we’re producing something here, something important.”
“It isn’t that important.”
“You don’t mean that, Q. You said it yourself. This podcast is going to change lives, including your own.”
“I don’t want to change my life.” Quentin looked at Dean, his tapered fingers tightening on the book.
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t want anybody else to hear that interview,” he said. “I don’t want to do this podcast.”
At last, the awkward pause.
“I thought I could do something,” Quentin said. “Change lives, like you said. Or at least learn from it. But... I think what I’ve learned is that I don’t want anybody to know about my mother, or my grandfather, or my connection to these murders.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he said quietly, “the one thing I’ve learned is that my only real family is Dean. And I don’t feel like doing a podcast on that.”
Quentin took a breath. He could feel Dean’s gaze on him, but he didn’t return it.
“Okay,” Summer said. “What if I told you that we could doClosurewith hardly a mention of your family?”
“That’s not possible.”