Finding Susan (10 page)

“He said it was going to be a barbecue pit, for cooking up all the game he’s caught. He may not have it all upstairs, but he sure is handy with tools,” Kate said.
 

Joe Bob had always been a handyman around town, doing the stuff too small to need a contractor and a ton of expertise. He’d definitely been a help to Aunt Gladys in the old days, and that help seemed to have intensified in her last years, from what she’d heard. Funny that Blake wasn’t a fan.

“You don’t like Joe Bob, do you?” she noted.

He sighed, thinking over his answer before he gave it. “It’s not like or dislike. I don’t think he’s predictable. I’m never comfortable around him.”

“Is that the great Blake Spanner moral criteria? Predictability?”

Blake gave her a wicked frown. “You do that a lot. Extrapolating wild theories from simple little statements and opinions.”

“How else do you think I keep the bad guys on the streets?” Kate smiled with a little bit of pain. It was a joke, sure, but it felt all too true to her tonight, so far from her practice. Especially since she was probably never going back.
 

Ouch. She hadn’t admitted that to herself yet.
 

“You sure had a lot of stuff in the Cruiser for someone making a quick stay,” Blake said.
 

Like he’s reading my mind
.

“Well, I’ve got a flexible schedule back there in the old S.F.”

“I’ve never heard of a public defender with a flexible schedule, and I met plenty of them. You know, by all rights we shouldn’t like each other, not even a little?”

“That’s not true. Plenty of cops liked me in the city. It was the prosecutors who didn’t. That’s just because they weren’t as good as I was. I mean it isn’t my fault if they can’t play the game with...”

“Game?” Blake said. His expression suddenly grew serious. Kate knew she’d said the wrong thing. Cops and attorneys had separate perceptions on just about everything. It came with the territory. They were each necessarily on different tracks to do their jobs effectively. A cop could spend weeks apprehending a perp that the prosecutor then cops a plea for, getting out on the street again with a fine. It seemed ugly from the outside, but it worked. To a degree. Or so Kate always had to tell herself.

“I don’t mean ‘game’ because we don’t take it seriously.”

“But the bigger picture in the courtroom is that it’s just a game, something abstract. Kind of makes the work I do a little ridiculous.”

“That’s not true, Blake. Anyway, not for me,” Kate said. She was starting to feel herself get defensive, and that was never a good basis for conversation. Besides, she wasn’t sure if she really believed any of the stuff she was saying anymore. She looked over at Blake, who didn’t really seem to be agitated. He almost looked sad. “I’d really like to know why you left Seattle, Blake.”

“Same here. I’d like to know why you left San Francisco. Let’s just not tell each other anything and leave it at that. Be nice little mysteries to each other.”

Kate sighed. And then, in the exact same serious tone, she said, “I’d really like to get a hamburger and then fix my porch, Blake.”

Blake gave her a little surprised look, then he cracked a smile. Score!

“You got it. Let’s go.”

He started up the car and pulled out onto the highway. In no time they were parking at the Dairy Queen.
 

“Still no In-and-Out, huh?”

He didn’t bother to answer that one. They went in and got a table, ate the burgers, and sat staring at each other.

“What are you thinking?” she asked at last.

“About you. And why you left your job in SF.”

She made a face at him. “Who cares?” she said. “And who says I actually quit?”

“Didn’t you?”

“Sort of. But I left some bridges un-blown up.”

“Good. You may need them.”

She glared at him, then switched to another topic. “I have an idea. About Susan. Jason Rudehammer.”

“Jason Rudehammer?”

“Yes. Do you know where he is?”

“Sure. He’s at home.”

“Oh, still here?”

Blake nodded. “He was in the Marines. Went to Iraq. Got blown up. Now he’s home and trying to rehabilitate his body. He lost a leg.”

“Oh no.” For some reason, that information pierced her heart. “That’s awful.”

“Yep.”

They both were silent for a moment, thinking of what a momentous sacrifice that was.
 

“He used to hang out with Susan,” Kate said at last.
 

“Really?”

“Yes. After you were gone. You went to college.” She said it as though it were a betrayal somehow and he frowned, ready to fight back. But she went on. “I wonder if she might have contacted him.”

“Only one way to find out. Let’s go.”

“Right now?”

“Sure.”

They were in front of the Rudehammer house in five minutes.
 

“Uh…maybe I should go in alone,” Kate said, looking worried.
 

“Why?”

“I might get more out of him on my own. Copper.”

“Really?” He made a face.
 

“Really.”

“Well fine. I don’t know why you need me for anything.”

Reaching over, she pinched his cheek. “Oh Blakey, I need you for everything.”

 
“Yeah, you’re right. Go for it.”

She dropped a quick kiss on his mouth and slipped out of the car.

He watched her go up the walk and knock on the door, then disappear inside. Was it just his imagination, or were they getting to a spot on the map where it almost seemed like they were going to start going together? Could this really be happening? And—did he want it to?

That gave him something to think about anyway.
 

***
***
***

Jason’s mother was skeptical when Kate asked to see him.
 

“Well dear, he’s having kind of a bad day today.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. Uh…”

“He’s disabled, you know.”

“Yes. I heard. Such a tragedy.”

“We spend a lot of time over at the VA hospital in ClearWater. He’s learning to walk with a new leg and it’s taking all his concentration….”

“I’m glad he’s making progress.”

A voice came out of the back of the house. “Who is it, Mom?”

“Jason, it’s that Becker girl.”

“Susan?” He sounded excited and Kate was sorry she was going to have to be a disappointment.
 

“No. Kate.”

“Oh.” In a moment he had rolled his wheelchair out to the kitchen. He smiled at her, a strong-looking man, handsome and lively, despite his injury. “Hi Kate.”

“Hi yourself, Jason.” Kate smiled. What else could she do? He was so good looking. “Jason, I’m so sorry…” she began, but he waved her words away.
 

“No need.”

“And I’m so grateful about what you’ve done for your country...and all of us…”

He shook his head. “Thanks. But unnecessary.
 
I did what I did because I wanted to.”

“And I guess you’ll be paying for it for the rest of your life.” She just couldn’t help adding a note of cynicism.

“So what? Everybody has his own problems. Mine just happen to be physical.” He smiled at her and raised his eyebrows. “So you’re looking for Susan? What’s she been up to lately?”

“Oh.” That was a let down. “You haven’t heard from her?”

He shook his head. “Not since high school. We all kind of went our separate ways after that.”

“I was hoping you two might have kept in touch.”

“Sorry.”

She explained what she was worried about and how strange it seemed that Susan had never shown up in Whispering Pines.
 

“Do you think you could give me some contacts of other people from the old days who might know where she is?”

“I’ll do you one better,” he responded. “I’ll get on Facebook and Twitter and see if I can round up any of the old gang. I’ll get back to you later on if I find anything.”

“Jason, that would be wonderful.”

Jason frowned, catching the vibes. “So you’re really worried about her?”

She hesitated. Hey, it was true. “Yes, in fact I am. Susan has been sort of a lost soul for years and I’m afraid she might have stepped off the beaten path and into the weeds for a bit. I’d just like to find her and bring her home.”

Jason nodded, understanding what she meant even though she wasn’t sure if
she
did.
 

“I’m working on a credential in substance abuse counseling,” he told her, having caught the oblique hints as to Susan’s condition. “I had my own problems with some of the medication I was under and I got some first hand experience. I’m hoping to be able to help others with what I’ve learned.”

Wow. Handsome and helpful and kind, all in one. The man was a paragon. Too good to be true? Kate frowned at her own stubborn negativity. Why was she always looking for the seedy underground reasons people did things? Was it because she was a pretty poor specimen herself? Was she just trying to bring down the world to her level? Or was she full of nonsense, as usual?

She had another thought and turned back to ask him at the last minute.
 

“Do you know Joe Bob?”

“Sure. Everybody knows Joe Bob.”

She searched his eyes and didn’t see any guile. “He seems like a good guy. Don’t you think?”

Jason shrugged. “I don’t know. What’s the problem?”

She sighed and thought back. “Growing up, he always seemed like the local troll, living under a bridge and keeping track of what was going on. You know what I mean? Herding his animals and collecting his rodents.”

He nodded. “Weird, but harmless,” he noted.

She smiled, hoping he was right. When something seemed so off-center, you couldn’t help but wonder. She went back out to join Blake, feeling sadder than when she’d gone in.

Chapter Six

“You want to know what was really cool about this house yesterday, Blake? The thing that made me really want to just kick in with gay abandon?” Kate asked.

“That it had a porch?” Blake answered.

Kate’s shoulders fell for just a moment. That big lummox went and stole her punch line, right out from under her. It surely was true, though. The house was significantly sans porch. The last twenty minutes Blake had been trying, with very little success, to jury rig a plank walkway up to the front door so access through that portal was once again a possibility. The most he’d accomplished was spilling his Coke and cursing at the duck.

The friendly neighborhood fowl had made another visit, hopping up onto the open frame of the door, just to mock the poor flightless pair of humans underneath it. There was something distinct about that duck and the way he had waddled into the house and out through a front window, that Kate did not like. It would make a great dinner when she got the house dinner-worthy.

“Ow, damn it!” Blake muttered, pulling his hand out from the dirt. The simple plank walkway was determined to not stand straight, no matter how much level ground Blake created for it, and he’d managed to find all sort of wonderful things to bash and scrape his hands with.

“Let me see,” Kate said. She tried to, but the dirt made it tough to make out anything on his hands. There was a trickle of blood mixing with the dirt. “I’m getting the hose - I need to clean your hand off.”

Kate went round the corner of the house to grab the hose, kicking at a small spider that had taken residence just underneath the valve. She came back, hose kinked in her hand but still letting out a small trickle of water that splashed down on her shoes and jeans. When she saw Blake, she gulped, and in her surprise dropped the hose.

Blake had obviously decided that if he was going to be cleaned, he’d make it thorough, and had taken off his shirt. This was not the little boy she knew in school. One of the tricks he and his friend Jim Tourney would try and play on her was to divide them up on teams for a game of b-ball, and call shirts vs. skins to try and get the girls shirts off. One time, when Kate was fed up with the trick, she took them up on it and played in her bra. Her team won that game, as she recalled.
 

“Thanks,” Blake said as he picked up the hose and sprayed off his hands with it.

“Thank you,” Kate said, and she sat down on the hood of her car. Blake gave her a quick, confused look, before wetting down his hair and chest. A lot of the cops she knew in ‘Cisco had a tendency to let themselves go. Their physical requirements grew less stringent over the years as recruitment opened up, and this laxity was taken advantage of.

Not by Blake. As Kate had guessed when she saw him yesterday at the Sheriff’s station, her young friend had become a fine specimen of the male gender.
 

“Where’s the valve?” Blake asked.

“At the other end of the hose,” Kate replied.

“Gee, thanks.” Blake kinked the hose and went around the corner of the house to shut off the water. He’d grabbed his shirt, too, and as he was coming back to Kate he’d pulled it on.
 

So much for small pleasures
. Kate sighed.

“You’d think it’d be easier to just lay down a flat piece of wood. If this thing isn’t sitting stable, how in the world did the porch manage it?” Blake complained.

“As I recall, the porch didn’t. That’s why we’re in this fine predicament, my dear Officer Spanner.”

“Yeah. Say, what’s this?” Blake said. He pushed his foot in the mud and came up with something metal on a chain. Kate hopped off the car and grabbed the item from his foot.

“Regular Indiana Jones, ain’t ya?” she said. She looked at the thing - it was a locket, small and heart shaped with small leaf engravings dancing across the seam. “Wait a minute,” Kate said, and she opened the locket.
 

“It’s empty,” Blake said. Kate ran a finger on the inside of the locket, and felt the indentation of small letters. She squinted at them but couldn’t make them out. Just like always.

“Blake, this is Susan’s,” she said.

***
***
***

“You have to calm down, Kate,” Blake said. He was wringing his own hands and folding them in front of his face. His mind was going a mile a minute, but without context, so nothing coherent came of it. “You’ve just got to go through this logically, all right?”