Design on a Crime (24 page)

"I'd suggest that the suspicion everyone's directed at you
is a way to ward off fear."

She blocked my objection with a shake of her head. "Give
me a chance to explain myself. Everyone, even a cop, is capable of fear. Murder is the ultimate violence, the ultimate
fear everyone has to conquer. They need a quick answer
to the question at the top of their thoughts, and they need
it right away. Who killed Marge becomes greater than the
need to know. For most, it boils down to knowing who
might kill again. And will it be me or someone I love he
kills next?"

"I can sort of buy that, but I don't see where I'm all that different. Except that I'm more afraid I'll wind up in jail with
no way to help myself."

"Exactly. You've been to the edge of death and, by the grace
of God, came back from it. It's lack of freedom and control
that rocks you."

I nodded. She understood.

"Can't you see that while others are ready to jump to the
quickest solution, you can distance yourself and see more?
You can question the easy answers. To see everyone who's
involved in a different light."

"That's some way to make lemonade out of the sourest
lemons."

"That's what life is all about, Haley." Tedd's grin was
infectious.

I smiled back in spite of myself.

"Think about it," she added. "I'm sure that, as a preacher's
kid, you're familiar with Scripture. The one that comes to
mind right now is the one that speaks about keeping our
minds on what is worthy, beautiful, etc. Those of us who
can do that after something as repulsive as rape are the ones
who survive."

Of course I knew Philippians 4:8-one of Dad's favorites.
"Let me ask you something, and I really want an answer."

"I'll see what I can do," Tedd replied, serious now.

"Why do you guys always bring it back to the God stuff?
I don't get it. How can you still have faith when he left you
out to hang? He didn't stop that monster from doing what
he wanted."

"God could have stopped the rapes, yours and mine. But
would I have become the woman I am today without it? I doubt it. Once upon a time, the only thing in my mind was
to sing my way to the top of the charts. And I wasn't singing
God's praises either. Now I can serve him and his children
in need. You tell me what's better."

"You're telling me I should be glad Paul raped me because
it's going to make me a better person?"

"Not at all. I'm suggesting that you quit fighting so hard.
Don't fight God, and don't fight the reality of what happened. Let God redeem what that locust stole from you.
Use it to benefit the kingdom. You'll never be at peace until
you do."

I felt need. I wanted that peace more than I'd ever
wanted anything in my life. I wanted it even more than I'd
wanted to escape Paul's hands, his attack, his violation.

"You want me to accept God's betrayal-"

"I'm telling you to stop seeing that man's criminal decision
as God's action in your life. Sin is sin, Haley. God didn't make
Paul rape you. He chose to do that by himself. Until you put
the blame where it belongs, you'll never reach a place where
God can heal you."

Tears filled my eyes. "So what's the prescription,
Doc?"

"I don't have the answer. Only God does, and you're going
to have to work out your salvation from the hell you're in
through the power of his love." She reached out and hugged a
worn leather Bible. "God calls us to recognize the evil around
us, forgive those who hurt us, and move on to fight the good
fight for him. You have to face your past to resolve your feelings about it. Then you'll be able to deal with the present, and
someday face your future."

"Did you go to the same seminary where Dad went?" My
voice was shaky, but at least I spoke. Her words had hit me
with a rush of uncertainty, not about what she said, but about
the thoughts I'd clung to for the last four years.

Tedd gave me another brilliant smile. "I went to shrink
school. But I do go to church, read my Bible, and check
in with God about everything. I bet your dad does the
same."

"I wish ..." My watch said I didn't have to finish my
thought. The session was over. "Look at the time! Your
next client must be ready to skin me alive, I've made you
so late."

In my hurry to leave the aching wish behind, I snagged my
backpack purse and practically ran to the door.

"Haley."

I screeched to a stop.

"Don't leave until you finish your wish."

How had I known she was going to do that? I sighed but
didn't face her. "I wish I had your faith."

I closed the door and left before Tedd could see my
tears.

Two days later I'd finished making the Stokers' living-room
window treatments. I packed my super-duper steamer into
the car, then spread the silks across the backseat. I did what
I could to minimize creases, but the steamer would make the
fabric look wonderful when I hung it up.

I couldn't wait to put the curtains in place. The case goods
had been delivered, and I'd had the rest of the furniture moved
to the new floor plan. Already the room looked much bet ter. Today I was going to add that touch of elegance Gussie
wanted.

I'd thought the sessions with Tedd would make me less
able to cope, that the memories would keep me from normal
function, but the opposite turned out to be the case. It seemed
that the more garbage I dumped in her office, the stronger I
grew. Go figure.

The drive was short and pleasant, but the arrival left a lot
to be desired.

I gave the steering wheel a couple of light whacks with
my forehead. When I looked up again, the mirage was no
mirage.

Dutch stood on the sidewalk outside Gussie's home, grim
faced, arms crossed. Was he trouble or what?

Then I remembered the threat I'd made. No way was he
going to ruin my mood. I reached into my backpack purse
and grabbed my trusty can of mace ... or maybe it was the
pepper spray. It didn't matter. Either would do the job.

I got out of the car. "Hey there, sunshine. Does a body good
to see your smiling mug."

"Stuff the sarcasm. I have a couple of questions for
you."

"Uh-uh. You don't get to ask any. That's the cops' job."

"I can ask anything I want, and if you're smart, you'll answer. Even though I know you're guilty as sin, we both want
the same outcome."

"First of all, I'm not guilty as sin. And second, there's no way
you know what I want, so you're off base on that one too."

"You want Noreen to buy the Gerrity, don't you?"

It had been so long since I'd thought of the mansion as a potential job, that I shrugged. "I'd much rather find Marge's
killer, if you want to know the truth."

"You don't want the job?"

"There are bigger things in life."

"That is my life."

"Then, buddy boy, you better get a life." I started up the
walk, ready to end the inane exchange.

"What's this about you planting a so-called clue in these
people's home?" he asked.

"Where'd you hear that? Who'd you harass into saying
that?"

Could he make a woman mad or what? "Either you're
stupid or you're deaf, dumb, and blind. And the dumb part
has more than one meaning. I didn't plant anything."

"I know what I heard."

"Then you need to Q-Tip your ears more often. You heard
wrong, wrong, wrong."

"So tell me what's right, right, right."

I took comfort in my can of mace. "The last time I was here,
I found a sculpture I recognized from the auction catalog. I
went to the warehouse, checked the catalog and computer,
and verified that the piece never went up for sale. Yes, it is
the same sculpture. There's only one in the world."

"So how did it get from there to here?"

"That's what I want to find out."

"More dumpster diving?"

"Wanna check out how well mace works?"

One long step back later, he said, "You're nuts, you know?
Wacko, loony tunes, and stark raving mad."

"Yeah, I'm mad. I'm mad because you and a bunch of oth ers can't see what's dangling off the tips of your noses. A
sculpture wandered off the grounds of the Gerrity estate, and
because it's worth so much, I'd be willing to bet someone stole
the thing. They're probably just waiting for the right moment
to pop in and get it back."

"Good try."

"It is good. Ever hear of a botched robbery? People can
wind up dead during those."

That brought him up short. For a moment, he looked like
he was about to lob another zinger my way. Then, to my
surprise, he nodded slowly. "It's nuts, but I see where you
might be right."

"All righty, then. Give the man a cigar! He sees the light."

"Forget the cigar. Just give me a contract and a chance to
vindicate myself. And don't interfere with my efforts to get
my career back on its feet."

"I won't interfere. So long as you don't try to convince me
I'm guilty of a murder I didn't commit."

His nod was sweet victory. And I hadn't had to use the
mace.

Yet.

He took a step closer. "So what's the verdict on the statue?"

"Right now it's a matter of wait and see. I couldn't talk
Karate Chop Cop into following up on the lead."

"Karate ... Chop . . ." He sputtered with laughter. "I gather
Ms. Tsu is into martial arts."

"She studies at the same dojo where I do."

"You're into that stuff too?"

My smile was wide and mischievous. "Better watch it, buddy boy. You tick me off again, and it's mace or kickboxing for you."

"And you're into floor plans, froufrou, and paint too?"

"They call it multifaceted, don't ya know?"

He chuckled again. "So you'll let me know if you learn
anything else about the sculpture?"

"I have nothing to lose by telling you. Unless you killed
Marge."

"Don't start that again."

I raised my arms. "Truce."

He went for my mace.

I moved faster.

A moment later, Dutch lay flat on his back in the Stokers'
front yard. I could almost see little yellow canaries circling
his head.

Uh-oh. I'd gone too far. Would he press charges?

But instead of crying foul, Dutch sat up and laughed.
"That'll teach me to mess with Karate Chop Suspect."

"Watch it, buster." I held out a hand.

A hungry rattler would've been a worthier recipient of his
look. He hauled himself up. "We'd be farther ahead if instead
of sniping at each other, we decided to cooperate."

I looked him over. "Sounds good to me."

He held out a hand. Instead of shaking, I turned it palm up
and gave him the mace. "You have yourself a deal."

"I'll wait for your call."

"You call me if you hear anything new."

We said good-bye, and as he went to his truck, he detoured
past the driver's side of mine. "Take note, Haley." He tossed
the mace inside. "In the spirit of cooperation."

I chuckled, ran up the steps, and rang the doorbell. The
whir of the wheelchair's motor announced Gussie.

We wasted no time hanging the curtains. They looked even
better than I'd hoped. Gussie loved them.

"You're brilliant," she said about a dozen times. 'And I
have no doubt about your innocence. You did not kill Marge
Norwalk."

We hadn't mentioned the murder, but her vote of confidence
warmed my heart. "Thanks, Gussie. Your opinion means a
lot."

"I've said it before, and I'll tell you again. You're a wonderful young woman, Haley. You hold a special place in my
heart. It's almost as if God's given me you at this time almost
to make up for the son I lost."

"Gussie ... I'm so sorry. I didn't know you'd had a child."

Her bottom lip quivered. "I went into labor prematurely.
It was a difficult pregnancy, and by the time he was born, he
was dead."

Her grief brought tears to my eyes. "I didn't know ..."

"We don't talk about it much. It's still hard."

"I can imagine." Acting on impulse, I wrapped my arms
around her. Gussie clung to me, her sobs silent, her pain only
too real.

When her tears were spent, I gave her the box of tissues
she kept by the overstuffed armchair near the fireplace. "It's
your turn today. I'm glad I was here just as you were there
for me."

"Thank you, honey. You don't know how much it means
to me."

When I left a short while later, I thought about Gussie's loss. What could it be like for your child to die? Did that hurt
as much as what Paul did to me? I saw where it might.

And that's when I understood some of what Tedd had tried
to make me see. Even though I hadn't experienced the death
of a child, my loss helped me understand Gussie's grief.

For the first time, the memory of the rape didn't bring me
down. Maybe that redeeming thing Tedd had talked about
had begun.