Lottery (28 page)

Ling nodded at the rocking chair. “There she is.” Ling walked to where Ahna was and bent over. “Good morning, baby.”

Ahna looked up at Ling and squealed, her arms and legs kicking in sync.

“She knows you,” the volunteer said and smiled.

“Mind if I feed her?”

The woman stood and carefully handed Ahna to Ling. “It appears Ahna’s not going to take no for an answer.”

Ling sat down in the rocker and cradled the petite child in her arms.

Ling positioned Ahna in her arms so the baby could see Caleb. The moment Ahna smiled at Caleb and reached out to touch his face, Ling saw the expression on Caleb’s face soften.

“Wanna hold her?” Ling asked.

Caleb took a few steps back. “I don’t know how to hold a baby.”

“Just be sure to support her back.” Ling stood and placed Ahna in Caleb’s arms.

“She’s so tiny,” Caleb said, gazing down at the baby’s face. “Hi, Ahna.”

An hour later, when Justin and Jenee found them, Caleb was sitting in the rocker with Ahna sound asleep in his arms.

t had been months ago that Caleb had put the poison into Ron Price’s beer. However, once again, he had yet to find an obituary. What if the son-of-a-bitch was still alive? It appeared the Price’s weren’t into funerals or maybe Ron and McKenzie were the only two left in the family.

It was four in the morning when he tiptoed downstairs to Ling’s office. As he did several times a day, Caleb pulled back the blinds to check and see if there was a squad car in the driveway. If Price
was
alive, he’d tell the cops all he knew. Caleb hadn’t been able to sleep or eat, spending every day in fear that he’d arrested for the murder of Price’s sister.

Finally finding Price’s obituary in the
Chronicle
, Caleb leaned back in Ling’s desk chair and let out of a sigh of relief. Price was only thirty-two years old? Damn, he’d looked fifty. Caleb stared at the date of Price’s funeral. The date of his death was the night Caleb had met him at the bar, but his funeral had only been yesterday. Maybe the family had cremated and waited until other family members could get together for the funeral.

Preceded in death by sister, McKenzie Price
, he read. Now he could finally relax.

He heard Ahna babbling, turned off the computer, and hurried up the stairs.

Ahna Mei O’Toole had been with them now for four months. Caleb spent as much time with his daughter as possible. He had had no idea how he would feel about Ahna, but Ling had been right—Caleb would never be like his own father, as he adored this little girl child who looked up into his eyes with so much love and trust.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Caleb said and picked Ahna up from her crib. Although the baby had been with them almost five months, Ahna was already as much a part of Caleb as Ling.

Ahna’s room, painted in a light pink trimmed in a border of animated children playing on swings, slipper slides, and sand boxes, was next to the master bedroom. The glossy white Jenny-Lind crib matched the chest of drawers. Perched in one corner of the room was an antique rocker. Above the changing table that held everything from baby shampoo to powder to a stack of disposable diapers was a cross-stitched embroidery that Mei had made that said “God Bless Ahna.”

Rarely did Caleb leave the house without coming back with a present for Ahna—a stuffed animal, a colorful soft teething ring, or a musical toy. Nothing was too good for the precious daughter he adored. What Caleb felt for Ahna was a different kind of love than he’d ever felt. He was her protector, and she was his beautiful, fragile princess.

“Dada.” Ahna smiled up at Caleb when he leaned over the crib. Her two bottom teeth had come in a few weeks ago and the two upper teeth were starting to push through the gums. He picked her up and kissed her chubby cheek. Petite, like Ling, she also had the same creamy ivory complexion. When Ling and Ahna were in public, people would comment how much Ahna looked like Ling.

“She’s not your kid,” Weber sniped.

“Yes she is,” Caleb spat. “You can screw with me all you want, but leave my family alone.”

Caleb lovingly smoothed her dark thick hair that stuck out on the side she slept on. “Your daddy will always be here for you.” He laid her on the changing table. “And God help anyone who tries to hurt you or your mama.”

After he changed her, Caleb snapped the Onesie sleeper closed and picked her up. “Let’s go get you some breakfast.”

Not wanting to wake Ling, Caleb crept down the stairway and into the kitchen with Ahna cradled in his arms. He treasured his alone time with her. He set Ahna in the playpen that was set up in the sitting area by the fireplace.

She had just graduated from baby food to solid food a few weeks ago. As he opened the cupboard door to take out the oatmeal, Caleb glanced over and saw Ahna’s dark eyes following him. “What d’ya think, Your Highness? I think it’s still a little too cold to dine on the patio.” The early spring morning temperatures were only in the high forties.

After he mixed the oatmeal with milk and put it into the microwave, he picked Ahna up and set her in the highchair, making sure the tray was secure.

When the buzzer went off, he took the bowl out of the microwave, and turned his chair toward Ahna’s high chair.

“Mmmm,” he said, and watched Ahna’s rosebud mouth open wide like a baby bird with each bite.

“Mmmm,” Ahna mimicked proudly.

He put the bowl down on the table, stood and went to the bowl of fresh fruit on the center island. After he plucked a banana from the stem, Caleb cut up a few bite-sized pieces. He loved to watch her dainty fingers work to pick up the gooey slices of banana that eventually ended up in her mouth. “Nana,” Caleb said and sat down beside her. He pointed at a slice of the fruit. “Nana.”

“Dada,” Ahna said and pushed a slice into her mouth.

He leaned over the tray of the high chair toward her. “I think you’re going to be a dancer, but” —Caleb put up an index finger— “only if you want. I’m not going to push you into anything you don’t want to do. You can be and do anything.” He heard a giggle, turned, and saw Ling in the doorway. He felt his face grow warm. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to know you’re going to spoil her to pieces,” Ling said, walking toward him. She leaned over and kissed Caleb, then turned and pecked Ahna’s cheek. “Oh, you are so sticky, you little monkey.”

“Dada,” Ahna responded.

“Not fair she says dada more than mama.”

“Coffee?” Caleb pushed back his chair and stood.

Ling tightened the tie around her silk robe. “You spoil us both.”

“And I will continue to pamper my girls until the day I die.”

Later that morning, the gentle breeze brushed across Caleb’s face. He and Sam stood staring at a large barge traveling down the middle of the bay. With no smog in the air, they could clearly see the city of Oakland across the bay.

It had become a habit that once or twice a week Sam would grab his camera, and he and Caleb would go for a morning walk.

“What do you s’pose they’re carrying on that ship out there?” Samuel asked, the crow’s feet around the edge of his sunglasses crinkling. He brought his camera to eye level.

Caleb shook his head. “Merchandise of some sort, I guess.”

Samuel snapped a few pictures and then let the camera, supported by a strap that hung around his neck, rest on his chest

“Tell you what,” Caleb said. “I’m taking a yacht out this afternoon. Wanna come along? I have yet to teach you how to fish.”

“A yacht?” Sam turned toward Caleb.

“I think our family needs a boat so we can just get away from everything.”

“Kinda brisk this morning.”

“I’ll pack a couple of blankets. It’ll warm up into the low to mid-sixties by this afternoon.” There was something in Samuel’s tone that Caleb had only heard once before. “Somethin’ bothering you, Sam?” Caleb asked, as they made their way back to the house.

A serious look came over his face. “I know the drinking hasn’t stopped, Caleb.” Sam’s tone was stern. “You might fool my daughter, but you can’t fool me.”

Caleb crossed his arms over his lightweight Polo jacket. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sam put his hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “And you’re still talking to yourself.”

Caleb’s insides were swimming. “Maybe I was reminding myself what I needed to do.”

Samuel said nothing, which made Caleb even more anxious.

“I’m not crazy,” Caleb defended, “and I’m certainly not a drunk.”

“If you don’t get help, I’m going to try and convince my daughter to leave you.”

“Fucker knows,” Weber intervened. “He knows you’re a murderer.”

“What?” Caleb said to Sam, feeling his blood pressure rise. He put a hand over his chest. “Sam, trust me, I would never do anything to hurt Ling or Ahna.”

“We talked about this before.” Sam shook his head. “This is too big for you to beat on your own, Son. Whether you know it or not, you’re hurting yourself and your family by not getting help.”

The rest of walk home was strained, and when they reached the house, Caleb hurried up the stairs and into one of the private baths of a guestroom. With four bedrooms on the second story, rarely did Ling come into the other three bedrooms they had yet to furnish. Damn it, if Sam thought he could take Ling and Ahna away from him, it wasn’t going to happen. Ever.

Caleb closed the door and then quietly took the back lid off the toilet so as not to cause any noise. He reached down inside the cold water and took out the pint of vodka he’d hidden. He took a long swallow, and then heard a noise. Quickly, he twisted the cap back on and pushed the bottle back into place. He grabbed the Listerine from the towel closet, took a swig, rolled it around in his mouth, and spit it out. After he fumbled to put the mouthwash in the back of the cupboard, he made his way into the hall. “Ling?”

“Come here,” she called from the master bedroom. “Ahna and I have something to show you.”

Playing the peek-a-boo game he did with Ahna, he opened the door, glanced in, closed it quickly, and peeked in again. Ling was sitting on the end of the bed, Ahna in her arms. When the baby spied Caleb, she let out a squeal. “Da-da-da.”

Caleb opened the door, got down on his hands and knees, and crawled to the foot of the bed. Ahna’a sweet giggles that came from her toes were infectious.

“Shall we show your daddy what you can do?” Ling set Ahna’s bare feet down on the thick ivory carpeting, and shooed Caleb away with her hand. “Go back about two feet.”

Caleb scooted back and sat down on the carpet. “What’s going on?”

“Just wait.” She turned the baby around to face Caleb. Ahna wrapped a hand around each of Ling’s index fingers. “Okay, go to your daddy,” Ling said, gently twisting her finger out of Ahna’s grip and, when Ahna was steady, she gently wiggled the other index finger out of the baby’s hand.

Panicked Ahna would fall, Caleb started for her. “Wait, she’s going to—”

Ling held up her hand. “Stay there. Go on, Ahna, walk to Daddy.”

Caleb held out his arms. “She’s too young to walk.”

Cautious, Ahna picked up a foot and slowly placed it ahead of the other foot, her eyes focused on Caleb.

“Caleb,” Ling warned, “don’t move.”