Goose in the Pond (39 page)

“I just can’t believe it,” he said. “Jillian, of all people. I thought we were friends. And Ash and Dolores. And that part about burying her husband under the library’s patio. The next thing you know, they’ll be making a movie-of-the-week about it. This sounds crazy, but I feel responsible, like I should have seen it, somehow saved Nora.”

“There’s no way you could have, Nick,” I said. We listened to the static on the phone for a few seconds.

“I’m leaving San Celina,” he said abruptly.

“I can understand why. What about the land?”

“Maybe I’ll sell it, maybe I won’t. Right now I just want to go somewhere quiet and think about it. The lawyers say I’ve got a month or so to make the decision, so I’m going to take it. Maybe there’s a way I can figure out a compromise. Just sell part of it or something.”

“Giving the decision some time is a good idea,” I said.

I heard him take a deep breath. “Benni, I’m sorry you got hurt and that in a roundabout way, Nora caused it. Please understand, she wasn’t an evil person, just hurt. Just real, real hurt.”

I didn’t know what to say. There was so much I didn’t understand about how people handled the pain in their lives, how some, like Nora and Jillian, wanted to hurt others as they’d been hurt, and some, like Evangeline, took their hurt and became someone who wanted to help others. All I knew was I never wanted to be like Nora or Jillian.

“Are you going to be able to get home all right?” I asked.

“Don’t worry, Peter came with me. He’ll make sure I get home in one piece.”

“Call me if you need to talk. Promise?”

“Sure,” he said, and hung up.

“What’s going to happen to Dolores?” I asked Gabe.

“She’s an accessory, but if she’ll agree to testify against Jillian, they’ll probably make a deal with her for less prison time. Ash’s case is a little more complicated. He’s an accessory, too, but he didn’t actually see Jillian commit the crime. This is the part where the attorneys take over. We suspected Ash and Evangeline from the beginning simply because of their backgrounds. But Jillian? That came out of the blue.” He shook his head and stared at the wall behind me. I knew he’d think about this one for a long time—try to go back and piece together where they’d missed the boat. I knew, as he did, that there was nothing anyone could have done until Jillian showed herself. He and his investigators did their best—sometimes that’s all there is to say.

“It’s all so sad,” I said, pulling my thin hospital blanket closer. “Gabe, I need to tell you something. I found out about Evangeline and Ash’s background on Sunday. I was going to tell you, I swear. But then we fought, and the next day—” I stopped, not wanting him to know I followed him to St. Celine’s.

He sat on the edge of my bed, his face sober. “
Querida,
when you’re feeling better we’ve got some things we need to discuss. Things like boundaries.”

“I agree.”

“Boundaries in my work you shouldn’t cross over.”

“And boundaries in your life you need to stretch a little.”

He sighed. “We’re going to be fighting about this on our fiftieth wedding anniversary, aren’t we?”

I smiled and took his hand in mine. “If we’re lucky.”

We stared at each other for a moment. He spoke first, studying my hand as he talked. “When the dispatcher called me and told me what had happened to you, I called myself every name in the book. I’m sorry for what happened the other night between us. I never wanted you to see that side of me.”

“What night?” I interrupted. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. The doctor
did
say there was going to be some memory loss—” I brought his hand to my cheek. “All I remember is that I love you, Friday, and that your wonderful Catholic guilt is the reason I’m still alive.”

“What?” he said, confused.

“I’ll explain later.”

“How’s your head?” he asked.

“It only hurts if I turn it too fast.”

“They’re going to be waking you every hour for the next twelve hours, but while you’re sleeping you can relax. I’m going to be right here.”

“That sure brings back old memories. A hospital bed was the first time we technically slept together. Remember?”

“Believe me, I remember.” He gave me a lingering kiss, slipping a hand underneath the covers and caressing me through my thin hospital gown. “Well, woman, now that we’re finally going to be living
alone
again, I will actually get to make love to you without my hand over your mouth.”

“Like you’re so quiet.” Laughing, I wiggled away from his hand. “Watch it, Chief. I still have a concussion.”

“My hand isn’t anywhere near your head,” he murmured, bending to kiss me again. We were interrupted by the loud sound of a clearing throat. Gabe’s hand flew out from under the covers.

“Sorry to disturb your
rest,
” Sam said, grinning at his father’s red face. His hair and clothes were dark with water.

“Is it raining?” I asked.

“Yeah, just started,” he said. “I wanted to give you these before driving out to the ranch.” He unzipped his damp sweatshirt and pulled out a white bundle and a long envelope. He handed me the envelope. “It’s only half what I owe you. I’ll pay the rest back on my next payday.” He glanced at Gabe, who had walked over to the window, his back to us.

“Sam,” I said, “I told you that money was a gift.”

“Thanks, but I’m paying it back.” His voice held a familiar trace of Ortiz stubbornness I knew better than to argue with. At least when I was feeling this weak, anyway.

“Hey, Dad, this is for you.” Gabe turned around, and Sam tossed the white bundle at him. “Saw it a couple of days ago and thought you might get a kick out of it.” His light tone contradicted the tense set of his shoulders.

Gabe unfolded the white T-shirt and held it up. Sam and I watched his face as he read the shirt’s message. Slowly, like the sun peeking out from behind black storm clouds, he smiled. Sam let out a relieved breath.

“What does it say?” I asked.

Gabe turned the shirt around for me to read.

In jagged bright letters, underneath a bearded old man leaning against a long surfboard, the No Fear brand T-shirt said, THE OLDER I GET, THE BETTER I WAS.”

I laughed. “Boy, he sure has your number.”

Gabe smiled at Sam. “He always did.”

Sam zipped up his sweatshirt and said, “Dad, about what I said the other night—”

“Forget it,” Gabe said, looking first at me, then back at Sam. “We all do things we regret sometimes. Believe me, it wasn’t any worse than some of the things I said to my dad.”

“Then you must have been a real jerk,” Sam said.

Gabe gave a low chuckle. “Yes, I guess I was.”

“I’ll leave you two old folks alone now. I gotta get out to the ranch.”

“One more thing, son,” Gabe said.

Sam’s face grew instantly wary. “What?”

Gabe cleared his throat. “Since you’re going to be staying around San Celina, I was thinking . . . well, maybe sometime I could buy you dinner. When you’re not working. If you have time.” He watched his son with unblinking eyes, the muscle in his jaw fluttering like a captured moth.

Sam fiddled with his gold stud earring. “That sounds great. I’ll call you when I get settled, but the first dinner’s on me, okay?”

Gabe nodded, his face solemn. “I’ll make sure and skip lunch that day so I’ll be good and hungry.”

Sam looked over at me, jerking his thumb at Gabe. “A joke. The man actually made a joke. You’d better take care of yourself,
madrastra
. Otherwise, I’m going to be stuck with the old fart here. And I don’t think he or I would survive that for long.”

“It’s a deal,” I said.

After Sam left, Gabe went over to the window and stared down into the brightly lit parking lot. I carefully climbed out of bed and slipped on the heavy cotton robe Dove had brought me. From the second-story room we watched Sam step into my Chevy pickup, fiddle with the radio, and drive away. The rain was coming down heavy now, causing a golden mist to swirl around the parking-lot lights.

“He’s a good kid,” Gabe finally said.

“Yes, though not much of a kid anymore.”

Gabe gave a half smile. The tightness around his eyes that had been there since Aaron died seemed to soften. “I guess he isn’t. You know, Aaron always told me Sam was going to turn out okay. Even when he was so irritating I’d have gladly paid someone a thousand dollars to take him off my hands, Aaron assured me that he would turn out fine. He said he could tell by the way Sam looked at me when I wasn’t watching.”

I laid my hand on Gabe’s arm. “Aaron was a wise man.”

Gabe swallowed hard and nodded. A minute passed. I stroked his forearm, the hair like fine wire under my hand. He cleared his throat, choking slightly as he did. “I miss him,” he said.

“I know.” I slipped my arm through his and rested my head against his shoulder. I could feel his body give a small tremble. We continued to stare out the dark window, listening to the hissing of the wind. The rain flowed down the glass in tiny light-filled rivers, and in the blurry reflection, if you squinted just slightly, it almost appeared as if we were crying.

Berkley Prime Crime Books by Earlene Fowler

THE SADDLEMAKER’S WIFE

The Benni Harper Mysteries

FOOL’S PUZZLE
IRISH CHAIN
KANSAS TROUBLES
GOOSE IN THE POND
DOVE IN THE WINDOW
MARINER’S COMPASS
SEVEN SISTERS
ARKANSAS TRAVELER
STEPS TO THE ALTAR
SUNSHINE AND SHADOW
BROKEN DISHES
DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS
TUMBLING BLOCKS