Rola had said that Wilde didn’t owe Peter Bennett anything. Perhaps. But did that matter? Do you have to owe someone to help them?
He took out his phone and called the number Vicky had given him for her brother—and Wilde’s cousin—Silas. The phone was picked up on the third ring.
“Who’s this?” the voice said.
Wilde could hear the dull roar of traffic and figured that Silas might be in his truck.
“My name is Wilde,” he said. “I got your number from your sister Vicky.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m your cousin.”
Wilde explained about the DNA test, about Peter’s messages, about searching for him.
“Damn,” Silas said when Wilde had finished. “That’s so messed up. So we are somehow related through your mom?”
“Seems so.”
“And she never told your father about you and just left you in the woods?”
That wasn’t entirely accurate, but Wilde saw no reason to correct him. “Something like that.”
“Why are you calling me, Wilde?”
“I’m trying to find Peter.”
“Why? You a cop?”
“No.”
“A Battler?”
“A what?”
“That’s what they call the Love Is a Battlefield groupies. Battlers. You a Battler?”
“No.”
“Because the Battlers made a meme out of me. That stupid show, I mean. Almost every day—still!—some asshole walks up to me and says, ‘Hey, you’re that sulking guy!’ Annoys the piss out of me, you know what I mean?”
“I can imagine.”
“By the way, everyone thinks Peter’s dead.”
“Do you?”
“I don’t know, Cuz.” Silas snorted. “Cuz. That’s weird, right?”
“A little.”
“Look, I haven’t spoken to Peter in a long time. Truth is, we weren’t very close, but I’m sure Vicky told you that. You said you matched Peter on a DNA site?”
“Yes.”
“Mind telling me which one?”
“Which site? DNAYourStory.”
“Oh, that explains it,” Silas said.
“Explains what?”
“Why you and I didn’t match. I put my DNA into one called MeetYourFamily.”
“Did you get any matches?”
“Got one that’s twenty-three percent.”
“What kind of relative is that?”
“Could be a lot of things. Most likely? A half sibling. My old man was a player. Don’t tell Vicky. She thinks ol’ Phil was a great dad. It would only break her heart.”
“You don’t think she’d want to know she has a half sibling?”
“Who knows? Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should tell her. But I don’t know what good it will do.”
“Did you contact the relative?”
“I tried. I sent a message on the MeetYourFamily app, but they never replied.”
“Could you text me the info?”
“On…？ Oh, the match? Not sure what I could text you. The account was deleted.”
Odd, Wilde thought. Just like with Daniel Carter’s. “Did you get a name or initials or anything?”
“Nah, MeetYourFamily doesn’t reveal identities until both sides agree, so I don’t know anything about him. Or her. Or whoever. Just that we’re a twenty-three percent match.”
“That must be an odd feeling,” Wilde said.
“What?” Silas asked.
“You may have a half sibling out there, and neither of you knows anything about it.”
“I guess, maybe. Seems a lot of people are finding out odd stuff on those sites. I got a friend who found out his dad wasn’t his real dad. Messed him up good. He didn’t even tell his mom because he didn’t want them getting a divorce.”
“Did you get any other matches?”
“Nothing too interesting. I’ll text you what I got when I get back to my home computer. By the way, Cuz, where do you live?”
“New Jersey.”
“Near Vicky?”
“Not far,” Wilde said. “How about you?”
“I got a place in Wyoming, but I’m never there. Right now, I’m carrying a load for Yellow Freight through Kentucky.” He cleared his throat. “But I do go through New Jersey a fair amount. How close are we related?”
“We share a great-grandparent.”
“That’s not a lot,” Silas said. “But it’s not nothing either.”