Believing Again (12 page)

Jesus
, Danny thought.
Does she know who this bastard is but she’s too scared to tell me?
She had to get Kaylea to talk to her, had to find out what she knew.

As soon as she’d finished talking to Aronson, Danny went looking for Kaylea only to find she’d packed up her belongings in a couple garbage sacks, taken someone’s grocery cart, and left. For where, no one knew.

• • •

The next few days were more discouraging than any Danny could remember in a long time. Visits to the camps under the bridges and in Forest Park were unsuccessful. In fact, at every visit to each place Danny noticed fewer and fewer residents. She and Jake had to hunt in Forest Park for the new camp — no one wanted to stay at the old location. Thanks to a patient, they finally found the new place but no one could — or would — give them any more information.

The only thing that seemed obvious was that, for whatever reason, the perp was after Jake’s current and former patients — which shone the spotlight even more on VMSC as holding the key to figuring out who was doing this. Jake was on the verge of stepping back from the clinic as a way to protect his patients until Danny pointed out that the killer seemed to know who they were anyway and depriving the clinic of one of its physicians wouldn’t help them find the perp any faster.

Sam spent several hours with Jake asking him questions about every single staff person and volunteer in the clinic trying to find something, anything, to hang a theory on about why this was happening and who was doing it. The only additional information he got was a list of names of former employees and volunteers to talk to, trying to widen the circle in the hopes of finding something new.

While Sam was doing that, Danny was canvassing under every bridge and in all the transient shelters, soup kitchens, and SRO facilities looking for Kaylea. But the woman had simply been absorbed into the shadow city of the homeless and transient.

Or, Danny was afraid, had fallen victim to the killer who could have hidden her body in any one of an endless number of places in Forest Park.

As a result of the intense investigation, Danny and Jake had little opportunity over the next couple weeks to see each other. They managed a quick breakfast or two and, once, dinner during the week but not much else. She saw him more in the course of her work than she did socially.

She missed him. It was hard for her to face how much she missed him and how, in such a short time, he’d become so important to her.

Although she’d told him she wasn’t good at relationships, that was only partly true. It would have been closer to the truth to say she didn’t have much experience with them. She’d never really had a serious one. Not once in all her adult years had she ever cared enough for anyone to think about long-term anything.

It wasn’t that she was extraordinarily picky. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy being with a guy. She’d had a couple boyfriends who had hung around for a while, even a couple years. But there’d never been anyone she’d thought of in a serious, long-term way.

And it wasn’t that she was soured on the idea of a long-term commitment because of some hang-up from her family. Her parents had a warm and loving marriage of almost thirty-five years; her brother and his wife had been married for half-dozen years and still acted like honeymooners, even with two toddlers around.

It was more that she wasn’t sure she knew how to make it happen for herself. She loved her work and would never give it up. Ever. How did a career like hers play into a close and loving relationship? She’d seen her mother turn down an amazing offer from a prestigious university in another state so her father could stay in his position at the university where they were both professors because he was in line for the chairmanship of his department. Seen them work around competing publication deadlines with her mother always graciously giving way to her father. She didn’t think he asked her to do it. But she knew it always happened that way. Could she do the same thing her mother had done? Would every man expect that? Her brother seemed to. Her sister-in-law had back-burnered her career as an attorney to raise their children while her brother’s academic star continued to rise.

It hadn’t helped that some of the men Danny had dated had been turned off by the demands of her schedule, gotten pissed off when she had to cancel dinner or a movie night because she’d been called out. If they were like that over a date, how would it be when it happened on Christmas? Or a birthday?

And kids? She’d never even thought about that. How the hell did you paint kids into this picture?

No, having only casual connections with the guys she dated had been just fine. Until now. Until Jake Abrams came along and told her he was falling in love with her. What the hell was she supposed to do about that?

The case got colder as the days went by. Many of the people who’d witnessed one or another of the shootings seemed to have melted away like the occasional snow that fell on the streets of Portland — here tonight and gone tomorrow afternoon. The only good thing about the case slowing down was that it meant Danny could finally make plans to have Shabbat dinner with Jake and his parents.

Leaving work early for a change, she went to New Seasons Market where, with advice from the staff, she selected a good bottle of kosher wine and a bouquet of flowers.

Jake picked her up at six and they arrived at the Abrams’s home close to six-thirty. It was already dark and, of course, raining.

Strict Jewish tradition is to light the candles eighteen minutes before sunset on Friday evening — and there were multiple online resources to figure out exactly what that time was in every location in the world. During winter in the Northwest, it was a tough commandment to follow for working people who wanted to be observant. Sunset occurs quite early because of the region’s more northerly location. Jake’s parents, like many Jews, honored the custom of lighting the candles on Shabbat but were flexible about the timing.

A handsome woman in her fifties with dark, wavy hair shot through with silver met the couple at the door of the Abrams’s West Hills home Not quite as tall as Danny, she was regal-looking, as though she thought she was six inches taller and towered over everyone in the room. She greeted her son with “Shabbat shalom” and a kiss. Then she hugged Danny and gave her a kiss on the cheek, too.

“Shabbat shalom, Danny. I’m Miriam Abrams. It’s nice to finally meet you. Jacob has said such wonderful things about you.”

Danny glanced at Jake who shrugged his shoulders and half-smiled. “Shabbat shalom, Mrs. Abrams. Thank you for inviting me tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a Shabbat dinner.”

“It’s Miriam. And, yes, my son told us you observed Shabbat growing up. Please feel free to join us any Friday you’d like, with or without Jacob. You’re always welcome in our home.”

Wouldn’t that be awkward
, Danny thought,
dinner with his family without him.
As she handed over the bottle of wine and the flowers, she saw that Jake’s half-smile was now a huge see-what-I-mean-about-my-mother grin.

They followed her from the entryway down a long hall with dozens of family photos, some of them quite old looking, on the walls. Danny stopped to look at one she was sure was Jake as a gawky adolescent but he refused to let her linger too long, herding her into the living room. It was a room furnished more for utility than style with a mix of what seemed to be antiques, maybe family pieces, and comfortable couches and chairs arranged to take advantage of the spectacular view of the city lights the large front window showcased. Danny immediately liked the person who had opted to let the city be the star of the room — the woman in front of her, she was sure.

“I’ll go get Harold and have him bring drinks. What would you like, Danny? Wine? A cocktail? Jacob usually has a martini.”

“A glass of red wine would be fine, thanks,” Danny answered.

When Miriam Abrams had disappeared into the back of the house, Danny said, “What’s all the smirking for, Doctor Abrams?”

“I love watching my mother doing her charming best to corral you into another evening here. You might as well get used to the idea that you’ll be back for another Shabbat. She’s a freight train when she’s trying to get her way. Or maybe more like a force of nature. Don’t try to fight her. You won’t win. I’ve been unsuccessful all my life.”

“At what, Jacob?” Miriam Abrams had returned, a man who was an older version of Jake in tow. He carried a silver tray with four drinks on it.

“Resisting you when you have your mind made up about something, Mom.”

“Oh, that. Yes, it’s easier to give in.” She was laughing when she said it but Danny was quite sure she meant every word.

Danny smiled at Jake’s dad. “Hi, Doctor Abrams. You probably don’t remember me but we met when you were putting my partner Sam Richardson back together again a few years ago.”

“Shot in the left shoulder. Three women — three very attractive women — sitting around in the waiting room to hear how he’d done in surgery. Oh, I remembered. But I didn’t recall your name until Jake reminded me.”

“Yeah, Sam’s fan club was there. Me, Margo Keyes from the DA’s office, and Amanda St. Claire. Amanda and Sam got married not too long after you patched him up.”

“If he was well enough to get married and is still your partner, I must have done an okay job.”

“You did a great job. His shoulder aches sometimes when he’s tired or been sitting behind a desk too long but mostly you’d never know he’d been injured.”

“Tell him I said hello, will you?”

“I will. And he sent his regards to you.”

A half hour later, when the drinks were finished, Miriam Abrams rose. “How about we light the candles and say the blessing? Danny, will you join me?” she asked. Miriam led the other three to the dining room table where a loaf of challah, a bottle of wine, and two candles set in ornate candlesticks were waiting. The table was set with heavy-looking silver flatware, delicate china plates, and crystal wine and water glasses reminding Danny of dinners at her grandparents’ home when she was a child.

The same smirk was on Jake’s face as Danny gave into the inevitable and joined his mother in lighting the candles. Maybe she was spurred by the sight of the table, or maybe because it was imbedded from childhood but from someplace deep in her memory, she pulled out the words of the blessing and, to her own amazement, prayed in unison with Miriam as Jake’s mother waved her hands over the candle flames, welcoming in the Sabbath.

When Danny looked up, she saw the smirk was gone from Jake’s face. The expression that replaced it was one of — well, the word that came to mind was “love.”

Directed to a place at the table next to Jake, she sat down and he circled her shoulders with his arm. She leaned into the embrace and he gently kissed her forehead. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. She was sure the candlelight was reflecting off the tears welled up in her eyes as brightly as it was reflecting off the water in his.

The ritual continued through the wine, hand washing, and breaking of bread. When it was completed, dinner was served — Caesar salad, roast chicken with a dried cherry sauce, roasted potatoes, and green beans with mushrooms. It was delicious.

Almost as good as the conversation around the table. At first Danny didn’t participate much as she listened to the three Abramses discuss local politics. Eventually, however, she had to weigh in when they started talking about some of the challenges facing the city, including the problems the Police Bureau had with funding programs to deal with the mentally ill, some of whom often had more contact with law enforcement than with medical care. It was a situation everyone in the room agreed was untenable.

She’d forgotten how enjoyable a family dinner could be. The evening reminded her of the dinner table conversations her family had when two college professors and two teenagers, Danny and her brother, dissected current events, pop culture, serious literature, and anything else they wanted to talk about. Just like the Abrams family obviously did.

It was close to nine by the time they cleared the table. Danny insisted she help load the dishwasher after they had chased Jake and his father out with cups of coffee. She and Jake’s mother worked in companionable silence for a bit, then Miriam said, “I don’t want to embarrass you but I have to tell you how happy my son has been since he’s been seeing you, Danny.”

“Oh. Really?” Danny was uncomfortably aware of the inadequacy of her reply.

Miriam continued to load dinner plates into the dishwasher. “Jacob went to Iraq one man and came home another. Since he’s been seeing you, he’s more like the one who went there. And that’s a good thing.”

“I don’t really think I can take credit for … ”

“I’m not trying to put pressure on you. I know how relationships go.” She sighed as she turned to face Danny. “But I appreciate having my son back, even if it’s only for a short time. I’ve missed him.”

Before Danny could think of a response, much less give it, Jake came into the kitchen with two empty coffee cups.

“I’m here to free the enslaved. Time to get you out of here, Danny, before she has you mopping floors.”

“So, now you think you’re Moses do you, Jacob, freeing your people?”

“No, Mom, just a man trying to save his date from having to do any more manual labor.” He leaned down and kissed the top of his mother’s head.

She beamed up at him. “All right, then, if you must. Take this beautiful woman home. But make sure you bring her back. Soon.”

• • •

The drive to Jake’s house, where they were spending the weekend, was quiet, both of them lost in thought. At least Danny assumed Jake was as lost as she was. The evening had brought back things she’d deliberately pushed out of her consciousness. Like how comfortable it was to be included in a family. Like how moving it was to be part of a tradition as old as time. She loved her own home and she was always happy when she had dinner at Sam and Amanda’s house. But tonight had been something special.