Dreamscape (10 page)

She sat back in her chair. “I remember I was excited. It was the first time Rick was talking seriously about a girl. He told his dad that he thought he was going to marry her. Joe told him to slow down. Told him to bring her over.”

“Why didn’t I ever hear about this girl, Aunt Miriam? If he was serious, why didn’t he tell me about her?”

She grimaced. “Probably because Rick and his dad got into it, well, pretty badly. You knew Rick, headstrong, impulsive. Joe wouldn’t tell me what it was they fought about. I believe it was what brought on his heart attack at Rick’s funeral, guilt over the fight. Cindy said Rick had been irresponsible. The girl, Cindy said, was trying to trap Rick. Said she was white trash from down South, that I remember.”

“What has Cindy got to do with this?’

“A couple of months before Rick’s death, Rick must have come by with the girl. We weren’t at home. Cindy saw them. She said that we didn’t have to worry about her again. I tried to talk with Rick, but he refused to discuss it. I never heard about her again.”

Thorpe sat quietly for a moment. He took his aunt’s hand, searching for the right words to say. “Aunt Miriam, there’s something I need to tell you.”

* * * *

“I don’t understand, Doug,” Cindy said, her cheeks coloring. “What the hell does it matter now? Obviously I was right. The girl was using Rick. Rick didn’t think with his head, if you know what I mean.”

Thorpe shook his head and tried to control his anger. Keep it together. Keep it together. “What right did you have? None, Cindy. It wasn’t your concern. It was Rick’s. My God, woman. He was like my brother. Why would you keep the information from me? Why?”

Cindy took a step back. Thorpe had never been this angry in front of her before. “You had more things to worry about at that time. I don’t know if you remember or not, but you were going through a hard time with the Gardner investigation. You needed to concentrate on your job.”

“Family comes first, Cindy. Worried I wouldn’t get a promotion? How cold are you? Tell me, tell me exactly what you did.”

She crossed the living room. Her shoulders slumped. She said hoarsely, “As far as I can remember, Rick came by with his girl. She looked like shit, if you must know. She looked sick, probably a druggy. I wasn’t letting her near our kids. I let you know. Don’t get on your high horse. Someone had to look after your family.”

“Did you ever consider that she might have really been sick?” He came around the sofa and grabbed her arms. “For once show some sign of humanity. What did you do?”

She pulled back. “Okay, okay. Rick was talking crazy. Something about what the girl just went through. Some demon or something. You want to know that Rick was crazy? Fine, he was crazy. He wanted to leave her at our house while he took care of a situation or something. Of course, I couldn’t allow that.”

His anger built with each word she spoke. He didn’t let go. “Everything, Cindy. Everything.”

“I wouldn’t let her in the house. I told Rick she wasn’t welcome. Wasn’t going to let in her kind. Told him to grow up. I might have added that I was tired of you covering his butt and that you weren’t going to do it this time. And I wasn’t going to let him put his mother through it. She’d be mortified. I don’t remember the exact words.”

He walked back behind the couch and stared at her. For a long time they both simply stood there. All his grief and rage boiled to the surface. He remained where he stood so she couldn’t see this hands clenched. “Cindy, do you have any idea what you’ve done? Why didn’t you tell me, especially after Rick died? You know how much he meant to me.”

“It would have only hurt you, Doug. What good would it have done? I was protecting you.”

“Or keeping me from knowing what you did.”

* * * *

Thorpe checked his calendar on his desk. Christmas less than a week away. Thorpe hadn’t realized that fact until Cindy reminded him that morning about Liam’s Christmas concert down at the school tonight. He sighed, far from having any Christmas spirit. He stared out his office window. Between discovering Rick had a widow and child, Cindy on the verge of kicking his butt out, no, he couldn’t say he had much spirit.

His work, he had to concentrate on his work, the case. He didn’t have to think about his personal life when he worked. The harsh reality he had would no doubt wait until after the holidays when Cindy would ask for a split. Give the kids one more Christmas together would be her way of thinking. Try as he may, this time he’d give in, throw in the towel.

The last time she asked for a divorce he’d talked her into a trial separation. He endured therapy for her, but this time all hope of a true reconciliation had been erased. My God, she wouldn’t even let him touch her. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d made love. The flame had died after seventeen years. She’d blame the force. If she threw up numbers of statistics of law enforcement marriages falling apart one more time, he’d scream. But it was his kids that he worried about.

The phone rang. Again. Lately, he couldn’t get off the phone. The department had been bombarded with phone calls besides reporters trying to hone in on a good story. Half the department’s time spent fending off questions.

Jackson’s call burst through Thorpe’s office over the speaker phone and blurted that he’d attempted to call him several times. Since Thorpe hadn’t been taking his calls over his cell phone, Jackson said his next course of action he would have resorted to was a visit to the station. He hadn’t spoken to Jackson since the Dills’ house.

“This could be the break we’ve been waiting on. I believe we’ve found her,” Jackson said. From the sound of his voice, Thorpe guessed adrenaline ran through the agent’s veins.

“What exactly do you think you’ve found?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Thorpe realized Jackson would have continued, but with Thorpe’s hesitation, even Jackson knew better than to pursue the issue. Thorpe could read him like a book. He’d wait until he felt the time was right and hit him again with his assumption of the situation. Jackson was conscious of the headline case, the high pressure stakes, and above all else that this kind of investigation was the kind that could make or break a career. He was nothing if not determined. Jackson had emailed him that he had, in fact, verified the information Ramona had given them—a copy of a marriage certificate and a birth certificate.

Thorpe’s head pounded. The tension built, never ended. The phone rang again. He snatched it up.

“Line one, Chief. A Ramona Damsun,” Beth’s voice rang out over the intercom system.

* * * *

Black Kettle, a quaint tourist restaurant, sat just over the town line in Yarmouth. Ramona waited inside. Thorpe wasted no time. He had questions, and she held the answers, the only one who did. Within minutes, he pulled into the scenic parking lot. The restaurant lay on the edge of the water, picturesque even in the dead of winter. Mallard ducks lined the shore line of the pond. Thorpe walked past a small strip of mostly seasonal stores and into the restaurant.

One look and he found her across from the wooden rail that separated the bar from the dining room. Ramona sat in a booth. An old Victorian lantern gave out only dim light. Potted flowers draped down over the wooden rail, and a picture of a horse-drawn carriage hung on the wall. Thorpe took a seat across from her.

“You called. I came.”

“First, if you’re expecting or wanting some type of apology, it’s not going to happen,” Ramona said stoically. She sighed, crossed her arms, and gave him a stern look. “What I can give you, what you probably deserve, is an explanation. I do know how much you meant to Rick.”

“That’s funny, because I don’t know a damn thing about you,” Thorpe said and regretted it immediately. He wanted information. His approach would drive her away. He didn’t need to agitate her any more than he already had. For a moment he thought he saw her desire to leave. He thought she would, but her mood eased.

She bit her bottom lip. “I get it. I do. You don’t know me and you don’t like me.” She scowled. “I don’t really care. I’ve survived without you knowing a thing about me or Leila for years. I don’t need you.”

“You’re right. I don’t know you. It’s been a shock to find out that my cousin, my brother, has a widow and child that I knew nothing about. Forgive me if I’m a little upset.”

“Look, I’m only here for one reason,” she said, her voice stiff. “Your friend there, Agent Dunn, was right. But all the information I can help him with is in this envelope.”

She pulled an envelope from her bag and pushed it over to Thorpe. He took it, uncertain as she gathered up her coat, purse, and gloves.

“No,” Thorpe began. “Don’t go. I want to know about Rick. You miss him, don’t you?”

With the mention of his name, her manner eased and her face softened. She placed her coat back down, her purse. Her eyes went from a darkening brown to a calm hazel. She wrapped her arms around her middle, looked away. She did hurt. He saw it in her face whether she meant him to or not.

“I was angry at him for dying,” he continued. “I hated the guy that killed him. I was angry at my uncle for leaving me alone with my hurt. I had all this rage and hate. I don’t know if I’ve ever worked through it fully. Now you come along and tell me that I wasn’t there for him when he needed me most. Through it all, Ms. Damsun, there’s not a single goddamn day that I don’t miss him.”

Ramona didn’t say anything, but then Thorpe hadn’t expected a reply. What could be said, after all? Nothing could bring Rick back. Guilt ran through both their consciences.

Ramona closed her eyes. “There’s not a moment that he isn’t on my mind,” she said tiredly. “You don’t know. You couldn’t. There’s another world you know nothing about. Rick didn’t either. Both of us were young. Neither of us understood the consequence of our actions, even when we were trying to do the right thing.”

“I’d like to understand. If it’s not too late, I’d like to help you and Leila. Rick was like, no, was my kid brother. I owe him that much.”

She didn’t say anything right away. After a short while, she turned to him, looked him in the eye. “When I first met Rick, I refused to acknowledge the realm of danger we were walking into. I was born into it. He wasn’t. He didn’t waver, though. He trusted me with his life and he’s dead because of it. No one understands that I didn’t want to drag another innocent soul into my world.”

“You’re confusing me. I don’t understand and won’t unless you tell me.”

“The first time I met him….” She paused and smiled. “I don’t think he ever knew I was looking for him that day. Granted, I didn’t know the stop I got off on wasn’t a good neighborhood until I got there. I knew, though, when I saw it. It had been in my dream.”

“What stop did you get off on?”

“Chinatown, somewhere down on that end. Rick came up from behind me. ‘Are you sure you wanted off at this stop?’ he said. I couldn’t say anything. I looked into his eyes and I couldn’t say anything. For me, that was something.”

Ramona turned her eyes away from Thorpe. “He asked me where I was going. I was heading to Children’s Hospital for an interview for work study. I was a student at Northeastern. I had gone to college up here in Boston.”

“You’re sure he didn’t ask for your number first?” Thorpe asked, trying to lighten the mood. “The Rick I knew, that would have been the first thing he’d have gotten from a pretty girl.”

A small smile emerged. She shook her head. “No, and especially after what I said to him. He was like you, thinking I was off in the head.”

“I didn’t think that.”

Her eyebrow went up in question. “He did. He walked me back into the subway and waited for the train to return. I tried and tried to come up with a way to tell him what I knew about what was going to happen. I couldn’t come up with anything. The train was arriving, so I just blurted it out.”

Thorpe pictured Rick in his mind. He probably did think he had a loony on his hands.

“What would you think if someone told you: ‘Be careful when you go in for the raid today. You’re making a drug raid, aren’t you? They suspect you’re coming, take extra backup. A big guy, maybe your partner, tall, will be standing by a boarded up window. When you knock and announce who you are, they’re going to shoot through that window.’”

“And he believed you?”

“Not at first. It was probably a month after. I’d just started my work study. He didn’t know my name only that I worked at Children’s. He wanted to know how I knew. He said I’d saved his partner.”

“Jeffrey?”

She nodded. “Rick said that when he got into position and looked up, Jeffrey was standing in front of a boarded up window. He said he didn’t want to tempt fate. Then he took me to a Red Sox game.” Her eyes faded as if she was going back in time. “We were so fearless, reckless, taking for granted what I saw and Rick reacting to it. He was invincible.”

Thorpe leaned against the table. “What exactly do you do? What’s this dream walker? I’ve never heard of one.”

“I don’t know the definition of one. Your friend seemed to have one. I grew up the way I am. I see things in my dreams. The only way I can describe it to you is like I wake up in someone else’s mind and walk through their thoughts. At times, their feelings. I can’t just call upon it. It has to come to me.”

Ramona gave a half smile. “My grandmother’s grandmother was a full-blooded Cherokee Indian. My great grandmother was institutionalized because they thought she was crazy. And as I said, my grandmother had the gift. She knew how to use it. My mother died when I was a baby. I don’t know of anyone else.”

“Know how to use it? What does that mean?”