After All These Years (21 page)

He steered the conversation to his main reason for being there and finally got around to asking, “What about Nicole Frazell?”

“Ancient history,” Brady replied.

Gina's brows went up.

“I'm sorry. I assumed you knew.” Tony thought his tone sounded sincere considering he had assumed no such thing.

Brady's eyes narrowed.

Gina said, “Oh, I know about her. My soon-to-be husband was engaged to her. I was just wondering what she has to do with this story.”

Tony lifted a shoulder and studied the pad on his knee. “Anything to do with The Author piques my curiosity. She lives in California, right?”

Brady answered, “Last I heard, which was years ago.”

“Hmm. Years ago.”
Do it, Ward! Go for the jugular! It's your job! Do it, for pete's sake!
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. An image of Isabel flashed through his mind, turning away from him. “So, uh, you and Gina must be open about your pasts?”

Brady hesitated. “I don't think we've dissected them day by day for each other, but yes, we're fairly open.”

“Uh, ‘fairly' open. Meaning?”

“Meaning what you're hinting at.” His voice deepened. “I was engaged, Gina nearly was. We know what wasn't right about those relationships. If she asks me anything concerning it, I tell her, and vice versa.
Not
that it's any of your business.”

And does Gina know enough to ask you about stalking and assault and battery charges?
Tony let a silent, awkward moment pass.

Reece made a joke, Maggie talked of dinner plans, Gina excused herself.

Tony allowed the subject to change. He had heard the hint of fear in Brady's angry tone, seen the look of doubt in Gina's lowered eyelids. He had…succeeded.

He declined their dinner invitation. Revulsion toward himself squelched his appetite.

Lia slumped in her car outside the Community Center in the parking lot, waiting for Chloe to come out from her Monday evening gymnastics class. Set in the middle of a neighborhood of hundred-year-old homes, the Center was a modern structure housing gyms, an indoor pool, and various courts.

Dusk had already fallen, though it wasn't yet even seven o'clock. The days were shrinking…as was her budget, which she was wantonly ignoring tonight. She had squandered gas driving the car less than two blocks. As soon as Chloe appeared, they were driving four more blocks and buying a large pizza with the works. Lia felt exhausted in body and soul.

A large figure approached along the sidewalk. It was Cal. He set his gym bag on the hood of her car and angled himself to peer through the windshield, his face a question mark.

Lia sighed and motioned for him to get inside.

He opened the passenger door and slid onto the seat, his teddy bear shoulders filling the interior of her car. He wore a short-sleeved sweatshirt and gym shorts, both damp with perspiration, as was his face and hair. “Hey, China Doll,” he puffed, slightly out of breath. “How you doing?”

His soft tone snapped the fragile string of control she'd been holding onto most of the day. Not trusting her voice, she lifted a hand and rocked it back and forth, indicating so-so.

“You look beat.”

“Short night, long day,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Silence followed. It wasn't exactly awkward. Despite last night's fractious telephone conversation, she considered Cal a friend. After all, he had carried her over a threshold and bandaged her cut foot…he swept shattered glass and waited out the night, dozing in the recliner while she huddled in a corner of the couch…he had sat stocking-footed and watched the football game in her apartment.

“Lia, I was out of line. Last night, I mean. On the telephone. I'm sorry.”

She swallowed. “And I'm sorry for telling you not to cruise by on your night off. I really do appreciate your concern.”

“Friends?”

She gazed through the windshield. Youngsters straggled out through the Center's double glass doors. “For Tammy's sake, maybe it's best that we're not. You know, somebody's going to see you sitting here, and she'll hear about it. That's not fair to her.”

“My job is talking to people.”

“You're not in uniform, we're alone in my car, and it's nearly dark.”

“So?”

She straightened and looked at him. “Cal, it's the appearance. What would you think if you heard that she were sitting with some guy like this?”

“Nothing.” He locked his eyes with hers.

“Because?”

“No reason to think anything.”

“You trust her, then. Or you don't care enough.”

He didn't reply for a moment. “Or something. So why is it she doesn't trust me?”

Lia shrugged. “She's insecure. She's not sure you care about her.”

“What do I do?”

“Well, for starters, don't have dinner at my apartment. Send her flowers. I don't know, Cal. I've never been in love.”

“Really?”

She shrugged again.

“I don't think I have either,” he said.

“Then why in the world do you let this woman lead you around as if you've got a ring in your nose?”

“Hey, China Doll. That's getting a little personal.”

“That's what friends are for.”

“Thought we weren't going to be friends.” He drummed his fingers on the dashboard. “I'm attracted to Tammy. She's fun to be with.”

“A Saturday night dinner you can count on.” It was a dig, but the conversation was turning into an uncomfortable counseling session.

He narrowed his eyes to mere slits. “Don't bake any more pies for me. That makes me feel guilty.”

“Hadn't planned on baking you any more, Deputy.” She returned his stare.

After a moment, his face relaxed. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Truce.”

“I'll think about it.”

“While you think about it, we need to talk about something else. I heard you had a phone call at the store today.”

Lia slumped back down in the seat. How many people had been in the shop? Isabel, Tony, Dot, a handful of customers getting prescriptions. All of Valley Oaks probably knew by now. “It was Nelson.”

“Has he been calling?”

“N-no.”

“You don't sound certain about that. Either he has or he hasn't.”

“There have been some hang-ups, but I don't think they were him. He asked to see Chloe. I don't want him to.”

“What does she want?”

“I haven't asked her.”

“I've dealt with a lot of child abuse cases. Strangest thing. Kids remain loyal to parents, even jerk dads. You might want to talk to her about it. Who knows? The guy hasn't been in trouble. Maybe he sincerely wants a relationship with his daughter.”

“It doesn't seem possible after all these years. My dad has always been there for me. He adores my mother. He's smart and giving and fair. I don't know where or what I'd be without him. What's yours like?”

Cal was quiet for a moment. “He was a state patrolman. He died when I was 15. Heart attack. I worshiped him.”

“I'm sorry, Cal. Is your mom around?”

“She lives in Florida. I'm on my own. No brothers or sisters. So tell me about the hang-ups.”

Lia was still digesting the information about his family life, imagining how painful his adolescence must have been with losing his dad. “Oh. The hang-ups. There's nothing to tell. For three nights in a row, there have been calls on the store line leaving heavy breathing on the answering machine.”

“What time?”

“Friday, maybe 10:00 or 10:30, again at midnight. I went down and turned off the ringer. Same thing Saturday. The ringer was off, but the machine records the times it picks up. Last night there was just one, right before you called.”

“Lia!” The way he said her name made it an interjection of pure annoyance. “Tell me this stuff when it happens, okay?”

“I can handle it. It's no big deal. There's nothing you can do.”

“I've got my suspicions. From now on, give me details so I can investigate.”

“Okay, okay.”

Chloe opened the back door and climbed in. “Hi, Aunt Lia. Hi, Cal.”

Lia turned around. Her niece looked so cute in her leotard. “Hi, sweetpea. How was gymnastics?”

“Great. I did two back handsprings in a row.”

Cal whistled.

Lia reached over the back of the seat and slapped a palm against Chloe's. “Way to go, Chloe! Hey, I'm planning on dinner at the Pizza Parlor. Sound okay to you?”

“Yea! Can Cal come?”

In the deepening shadows, Lia wrinkled her nose at Cal, signaling that this was not a good idea. But then again, this dinner wouldn't be at her apartment. “Can you?”

“Monday night football.” The answer came swiftly. “Kind of a ritual with a few guys. And I need a shower. Thanks, though.”

The little girl remained silent as Cal got out and said goodbye. Lia's heart sank. He had let Chloe down again. Lia chalked up her own stab of disappointment to empathy over Chloe's.
Men!

“Aunt Lia?”

“Hmm?” She turned.

Chloe was pinching her nose. “He did need a shower!”

They laughed all the way to the restaurant.

“Hey, Brady,” Cal whispered into the phone.

“Cal? The game's on!”

“Quick question.” Cal carried the cordless phone into his backyard. No reason the guys in his living room needed to hear this. “How do I order flowers?”

Brady burst out laughing.

“I'm serious! You're the expert.”

The laughter got louder.

“Come on.”

Brady gulped for air. “Is this an emergency?”

“Why would it be an emergency? They're just for Tammy.”

“For…?” He still chuckled.

“For?” Cal raked his fingers through his hair. “I don't know for what. Lia thought I should send some.”

“Then it's a ‘thinking about you' sort of gift?”

“Yeah, yeah. That's it.”

“Well, you could call Bev at home tonight if it were an emergency, like if you messed up in a major way. Did you forget her birthday?”

Cal thought a moment. Her birthday was in March, wasn't it? Or May. They'd only been dating since July. “No.”

“Then call Bev's shop in the morning. Tell her you want a bouquet of fresh flowers in a vase sent to Tammy's school. Send them to her at work. You get a lot of mileage doing it that way because all her friends and coworkers notice. Anyway, just tell Bev what you want to spend.”

“What's it cost?”

“Whatever you want to pay. Twenty-five won't get you much, but a hundred probably isn't necessary in this case.”

“Twenty-five dollars for flowers?”

“You've really never done this before?”

Cal sighed.

“Hold on a sec.” Brady's voice was muffled, and then he laughed again. “Gina says don't order the Hawaiian special.
Where were we? Okay, choose an amount, then Bev will ask what sort of card you want.”

“Card? This is getting too complicated.”

“You can do it, big guy. Choose the ‘thinking of you' card and ask her to sign it— How do you want to sign it? Love? I love you?”

“N-no.” He paced the width of his backyard. “That's too, uh, strong.”

“Okay. Why did Lia suggest you send flowers?”

“Because Tammy's insecure.”

“You're talking with Lia about Tammy's insecurity? Curiouser and curiouser. How about ‘crazy about you'?”

“I'd never say that.”

“Yeah, you're right. Oh, man, touchdown!”

“Who?”

“No way. Find out for yourself. You're the one interrupting the game. How about, ‘can't wait to see you'?”

“Too…much.”

Brady exhaled loudly. “Have a nice day.”

“Come on, Brade. Tell me what to sign.”

“That's it. ‘Have a nice day.'”

“Oh. Yeah. That'll work. Thanks.”

“Hey, bud, when Tammy thanks you for the flowers, don't tell her it was Lia's idea.”

“I should take the credit?”

“Mm-hmm. Something like that. See you.”

Women!

Luscious scents of ginger, lemon, and rosemary and the rich sound of Italian opera music filled Isabel's kitchen. She enjoyed cooking, but Tony's special touch had turned hohum into extraordinary.

“Izzy, try this.” Tony stood at her stove, holding a spoon above a sizzling pan.

She turned from her salad preparations and accepted his offer. Sautéed mushrooms, zucchini, and shrimp burst into a most delectable sensation. “Mmm. Perfect.”

“Need more ginger?”

“I don't think so. Shall I drain the pasta?” Tony forked a strand of spaghetti from the boiling pot and flung it at the wall. It stuck.