Deep Night (16 page)

“And that's how it should be,” his mother agreed, cheerfully munching her cookie. “Ask your father. It's what makes our marriage so strong.”

Chris slid abruptly off the chair. “Well…back to work.”

Sara was just as eager to escape the conversation. “Yeah, so much mulch…so little time.” She caught his gaze and rolled her eyes. He smiled and nodded his agreement as they resumed their positions at the mulch pile.

Literally hours later, Sara swept the last of the mulch chips off the driveway while Chris spread the last full wheelbarrow around the final flower bed. She had finally worn down and let him take his turn delivering and spreading, although he wasn't doing any trotting. Even Riley had given up about an hour ago and was stretched out under a tree, taking a nap.

Chris and Sara stood side by side and surveyed their work.

“It does look good,” she admitted.

“Want to hear the bad news?” he asked.

“I guess.”

“This will last only about two years. Then it'll have to be done all over again.”

She exhaled and tried to wipe the layer of red bark that clung persistently to her sweaty arms. “I'm busy that day.”

He chuckled and started picking pieces of bark out of her hair. “I feel like a monkey looking for fleas or bugs or whatever they look for in their baby's fur.”

“Gee, thanks. So now I look like a baby monkey?”

He studied her through narrowed eyes. “Yeah…sort of. You're kind of small, your forehead's purple and your hair's all messed up…”

She punched him in the arm. Hard.

He grabbed his arm and smiled. “Now that's the Sunny I remember.”

All the color drained out of her face until she was as white as a ghost. Her sky-blue eyes widened in shock and shame.

To Chris's horror, she burst into tears.

“Don't ever…call me that…again.” The words came out as if she was strangling.

Chris reached out to comfort her, but she pulled away.

A horn honked behind them, and they both jumped.

“Get a room,” Rusty called out the window of his big red Explorer.

Sara took advantage of the distraction to flee inside the house. Chris stepped back enough so Rusty and Julie could drive past and park by the garage.

Before Chris joined them, he looked over at the house where Sara had grown up. Her family had moved out long ago. It was still white stucco, but the brown trim was now a dark gray and the trees were a lot taller. Other than that, it looked much the same as when they were kids. All the houses in this neighborhood were about a hundred yards apart, because each house was on a five-acre lot. That meant that they were close enough for the neighbors to socialize, but far enough away that no one really knew what went on inside the walls.

Apparently, that house held secrets that had scarred Sara deeply. There was also the possibility that, as a child, she had misunderstood what happened and it wasn't as tragic as she thought. He struggled to think if he'd ever seen any police cars or ambulances there, but he didn't remember any. So how bad could it have been? Chris vowed he would find out. She shouldn't have to live with whatever painful memories she had.

Everyone was in the kitchen, either pitching in to help Pat prepare the meal or sitting at the big island bar observing. Chris washed up in his old bathroom before returning to the cheerful yellow room.

“Good timing, dude,” he told Rusty. “We just finished the mulch five minutes before you got here.”

Rusty grinned. “Firemen are always right on time.”

“Did you two have a wonderful time in Cabo?” Pat asked.

Rusty and Julie exchanged a look so heated, everyone else in the room looked away.

“It's beautiful there,” Julie answered. “Our room had a balcony with a great view of the Sea of Cortez and the Arch.”

“Well, you both are tanned and relaxed.” Pat pulled a large ham out of the oven. “Was the food good?”

“Delicious. The resort had half a dozen restaurants and we walked to the marina several times,” Rusty told her. “It has a big mall and more restaurants and bars than we had time to check out.”

“I'm glad you're back safely.” Pat handed Julie a big bowl of boiled potatoes and a hand mixer. “I worried about you two traveling to Mexico. You know the trouble they're having down there.”

“Cabo's pretty safe,” Julie assured her. “It's not a direct route from the interior, so the drug dealers don't bother with it. There are probably more Americans down there than in San Diego.”

Sara carried the plates and silverware into the dining room, and Chris helped her set the table.

“What happened to you?” he whispered, and was answered with an innocent look.

“Nothing. I'm fine.”

“You weren't fine a few minutes ago.”

“You just surprised me. I hadn't heard that nickname in years.”

Jack carried the ham in and placed it on the table, effectively ending the conversation. Sara returned to the kitchen and helped Pat and Julie carry in the rest of the meal. Everyone sat and started passing around the vegetable bowls while Jack sliced the ham.

Rusty and Julie chattered on about the virtues of Cabo and how much fun they'd had. Chris didn't have anything to contribute, so he barely listened. As he ate, he watched Sara out of the corner of his eyes and marveled at her recovery. To everyone in the room, she was acting completely normal. She asked the right questions and laughed at Rusty's jokes, even the lame ones. She was very convincing, and he began to question if maybe he'd misinterpreted her reaction.

“You've just gotten back and probably haven't had time to check,” Sara asked Julie, “but whatever happened to that little girl whose mother fell down the stairs? I checked with the hospital the next day, but she had already left.”

“I remember that case.” Julie frowned as she recalled the details. “Social Services said they would follow up, but you know how that is. They've been overloaded for the last few years. Bad economies always cause the number of abuse cases to increase. Some people don't know how to deal with stress properly.”

“I just know he was abusing that child,” Sara stated firmly. Chris noticed that her grip on her fork had tightened until her knuckles were white. The same panicky expression was on her face as when he had called her Sunny.

“I had the same feeling, but we can't just take someone's kid away if we don't have any proof.”

“And you can't get proof without reasonable cause,” Jack added. As a former judge, he could be counted on to provide the legal side of any argument. “Did you check to see if there have been domestic calls to their address before?”

“Sam looked them up and said there weren't any reports in our system,” Julie answered. “That doesn't mean it hasn't happened before. But the wife didn't press charges, and I can't just go back and talk to her.” Julie took a roll out of the basket as it was passed to her. “They say that women are abused an average of thirty-five times before they call the police. Maybe she hasn't reached her breaking point yet.”

“Meanwhile, the little girl is suffering.” Sara's voice trailed off. There was a moment of silence before she forced herself to look up. “Let me know if you find out anything more, okay?”

“Sure. I go back to the office on Wednesday. I'll run a check on the DPD computers,” Julie promised.

The talk turned back to more neutral topics, and they all moved out to the big deck in the backyard to watch the sunset. A mother mule deer and her twin fawns appeared out from behind some brush and wandered along the fence line. After the boys had grown up, Jack and Pat got rid of all the domestic livestock. But there was an abundance of wildlife in the area to watch, everything from cottontails to coyotes to an occasional cougar. It was a peaceful way to end the day, in sharp contrast to the chaos on the streets of Denver only twenty miles away.

Sara was quiet on the way home. Every time Chris would start to ask a question, she would turn the radio up and say, “I like this song,” which would drown out all possibilities of a conversation. He finally gave up. Clearly, she wasn't ready to talk about it. The list of avoidances was growing.

“I'm going to take Riley out for a quick walk,” she told him as they got out of the car in the parking lot.

“I'll go with you,” Chris offered, but as he stepped on the pavement, he winced. He had been on his feet way too long today, and it was sending pain shooting up his leg.

Sara noticed, of course, and shook her head. “Why don't you take a shower while I'm gone. I don't know about you, but I have mulch in my underwear, and I can't wait to take a hot shower.”

Reluctantly, he agreed because he knew if he didn't, they would both want to use the shower at the same time. Somehow, he knew without asking that sharing it wouldn't be an option.

He would have loved to stay in there longer, but he knew it wouldn't take Riley long to tire. The dog had had a busy day and everyone had taken turns adoring him, because one of the things all the Wilsons shared was a love of dogs. Chris dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt and was still towel drying his hair when she burst through the front door, pulled Riley inside and slammed the door behind her. She clicked through the set of three locks, then leaned her back against the door. Her eyes were wide and terrified.

Chris dropped the towel and rushed forward. “What's wrong? Are you okay?”

“He's out there. He was following me.” Her voice cracked and her hands were shaking so hard, she couldn't even unsnap the leash on Riley's collar.

“Who was?”

Sara's gaze darted around the room as if the mysterious man were about to materialize out of the shadows.

“Sara, tell me who,” Chris insisted.

“My father.”

“Your father? I thought he had moved out of state.”

“So did I.” Her eyes were wide and worried.

“Did he get in the building?”

“No, he was on the street. I started running when I saw him, and the front door locked behind me.”

Chris gently but firmly moved her out of the way, and he started unlocking the door.

“What are you doing?” Her panic increased.

“I'm going out there to tell him to stay away.”

“You can't. He'll—”

“He's not going to do anything to me. I'll be fine. Just lock the door behind me.”

He opened the door, and she quickly closed it behind him. He heard the deadbolt click into place. He hadn't had time to change the bandage on his foot, and it squished wetly as he walked down the hall to the elevator. There was no one in the hallway or on the first floor when he got out. He'd forgotten his keys, so when he opened the front door, he held it so it didn't close while he looked up and down the street, searching for her father.

A man walked out of the gym the next block down, but Chris recognized him as a regular, and definitely not Sara's father. A young couple exited the pizza place and strolled hand-in-hand toward the parking lot across the street. A female junkie slumped against the wall of the rehearsal hall, probably trying to pick up a trick to feed her habit. The only other person was a homeless man, pushing a shopping cart along the sidewalk, looking for aluminum cans. There was no sign of her dad.

But then, why would he stick around? Surely, there was a better way to set up a reunion, if that was his purpose. Maybe he was trying to ask for forgiveness for something in the past. Or possibly, he just wanted to reconnect. Whatever her reasons, Sara seemed determined not to talk to him. Her terror indicated she was afraid of him. Maybe he was stalking her. Either way, he wasn't going to hang out and wait for her to come back out with a gun.

Satisfied that the danger was past, at least for now, Chris went back inside and pulled the outer door firmly shut. No one could enter who didn't have a key or wasn't let in by a resident. Of course, visitors could ring a bell and someone could buzz them in, which would allow strangers to slip into the building. But most people came down and escorted their guests to their apartments.

However, if someone wanted to get in, he would find a way. Chris knew that wouldn't be the right thing to point out to Sara when he got back to the apartment. Instead, he made sure his expression was confident and comforting as he knocked on the door.

“It's me, Sara. I didn't take my keys,” he called through the heavy steel door.

A few seconds later, he heard the locks slide and the door opened.

“Did you see him?”

“No, he was already gone.”

She relaxed slightly, but her eyes were still wide and frightened.

“What do you think he wants?” Chris asked, hoping he could find a way to talk about the source of her fears.

She shook her head. “I don't know. I haven't seen him in years.”

“Were you close?”

Her expression went blank. “He was my father.”

Well, that didn't answer anything. Chris was trying to think of a way to reword it so he could get her to talk, but she looked down at herself as if just then remembering how dirty she was.

“If you're through with the bathroom, I'm going to take my shower now,” she announced.

“Go ahead. Just let me get the first aid stuff so I can re-bandage my foot.”

Sara escaped to the bathroom as soon as he had retrieved the supplies, and a minute later, the sound of the shower could be heard. Chris went to the refrigerator. He was already hungry, so he made himself a sandwich from the leftovers his mother had packed for them to take home. He grabbed a beer, settled on the couch and started flipping through the channels. This was the worst season for dudes. Hockey and basketball seasons were almost over, with only a few playoff games left, and football preseason was still a couple of months away. NASCAR was usually just on weekends, which left baseball, and when the home team was sucking so bad, it was hard to watch them night after night. He settled on a rerun of
CSI: New York
or
Vegas
or someplace or other. At this time of night, it didn't really matter.

He was about to doze off when Sara finally came out of the bathroom. Her hair was wet and she was wrapped in a big fluffy robe that covered up all her pretty girl parts. His dirty mind speculated on what she was wearing under the robe…T-shirt…lacy nightie…nothing at all.

“Scoot over.”

He moved his legs off the couch, and she cuddled into the opposite corner.

“Anything good on?” she asked.

Chris shook his head. “Reruns.”

“Thank God for DVRs. Working nights makes me miss all the good shows during the season, so I have to catch up during the summer.”

“Are you hungry? There's plenty of ham left.”

“Nah, I'm okay.”

He handed her the remote. “You pick something. There's nothing on that I care about.”

She flipped through the recordings and selected a
Castle
episode. Chris reached over and turned off the lamp next to him.

They sat silently for a few minutes, Sara watching the screen and Chris watching Sara. Finally, she couldn't pretend to ignore him any longer, and she turned and confronted him. “What?”

“Why did your dad leave?”

“Tonight?”

He gave her a disgusted look because he knew she was dodging the answer. “No, when you were a teenager.”

“My mother kicked him out.”

“Why?”

She looked back at the screen. Riley got up from his bed in the corner and walked over to Sara. He placed his big head on her lap and looked up at her with worried brown eyes. Absently, she started petting him while studying the TV as if it were the most interesting show ever.