Sawyer, Meryl (33 page)

"I know how you feel. After Trevor left I was totally
alone."

Was Val criticizing her? She'd done all she could to help, hadn't
she? Did Val harbor some deep-seated resentment?

"You always had your family, Royce. I thought I had my brother.
Friends are great, but there's nothing like your family."

"True." Royce breathed a sigh of relief. Val hadn't been
finding fault.

"At least you have your uncle. Does Mitch let him see
you?"

"Yes, but he's down South doing an expose on how chicken factories
pollute the environment." She hadn't heard from Wally in days. Was he all
right?

"Royce, I've never asked but"—again Val hesitated—
"did you ever blame Wally for what happened to your father?"

"No," she responded, then amended it to, "not
really."

Her father had been sipping brandy with his closest friend the
night Wally had called. Shaun was being abusive again and Wally had asked her
father to come for him. The fatal accident had occurred a block from Wally's
house. Wally had arrived on the scene just as the police drove up.

"It was fate, bad luck, whatever. Wally was devastated. When
he called me from the police station, he sounded drunk himself, but, of course,
he wasn't. It's been years now and he's never fallen off the wagon."

"I hope Talia does as well," Val said softly. "I'm
helping her."

"Do you still get together every Monday for lunch?'.' Royce
asked, not adding,
without me.
Their Monday luncheons had been a
long-standing tradition. It hurt to think of being excluded, but everything had
changed. Val was giving Talia the support she needed. Once that had been
Royce's role.

"Can't you meet us? We promise not to talk about the
case."

Royce almost smiled. "I'll ask Mitch." She paused,
thinking Val sounded strange. "How's the new guy?"

"Fine."

It wasn't like Val to hide things from Royce, but now they were
playing by new rules. Instead of being the friend everyone leaned on, she
needed them and she couldn't help wondering if they really cared. Or if one of
them was behind this.

"Come on," Royce said to Jenny after she hung up.
"To hell with Mitch's security fetish. I'm taking you for a walk."

Outside the bright sunshine and the soft breeze off the bay
brought the uplifting cheerfulness of spring. Granted, it was midsummer, but
San Francisco's summer weather usually came in the fall—after the tourists went
home. July felt more like April with a hint of honeysuckle on the sea breeze
and a lazy sun that chased away morning fog for the warm afternoons.

Without meaning to go there Royce found herself at the Golden Gate
Cemetery, standing under the majestic oak looking at her parents' tombstones.
Jenny flopped to the ground in the tree's shade and Royce sat beside her.

After she'd returned from Italy, she used to visit their graves
with fresh flowers every Sunday, but this was the first time she'd come since
her arrest. It was silly, but she hadn't wanted her father to know how much
trouble she was in.

What would Papa say if he were alive? He would insist justice
would prevail. Once she would have believed him, but now she prayed and found
it hard to truly have faith—considering everything that had happened.

And she couldn't shake the feeling the worst was yet to come.

"Here," she said to Jenny as she put her hand on the
soft mound of grass just above her father's grave. "This is Rabbit E. Lee.
I knew he wanted to be with Papa, so I secretly buried him here. You know, he
was a prisoner in that horrible cage all those years with only Papa to love
him. And when Papa loved someone, you knew it. He always had time for you.

"Mama wasn't like that. She loved me, but she was very busy,
translating for the embassy or cooking or being with Papa. They loved each
other so much, I sometimes felt like a third wheel."

Jenny licked her hand sympathetically. These days the retriever
seemed to be her best friend—the only friend she could truly trust. Talking to
Jenny had become second nature to Royce. Of course, she was really talking to
herself, but Jenny was so intelligent that she actually seemed to understand.
And she always listened.

"I guess I shouldn't complain. Think of what Mitch must have
suffered. I don't believe anyone's ever really loved him. And I doubt if he'd
know what to do if someone loved him now." She fondled Jenny's silky ear.
"Except you. He's crazy about you."

He brushed Jenny every night and kept her at his side whenever he
was at home. Come to think of it, Mitch was great with animals. He indulged
that beastly Oliver, slipping him food despite his diet so he wouldn't kick kitty
litter all over the kitchen. Under the right circumstances there might be hope
for Mitch.

Honestly, Royce, what on earth are you thinking? Forget about
Mitch. Loving him is out of the question.

She leaned back against the tree and concentrated on the regatta
sailing across the bay, their white sails a brilliant contrast to the deep blue
water and the lighter blue sky. Enjoy this while you can. The view from inside
a cell won't be so spectacular.

She placed her hand on her father's tombstone. It was warm from
the late-afternoon sun. She stared out at the wind-ruffled water, but saw
instead her father on the morning he'd killed himself.

She could almost feel his arm around her—the way it had been on
that fateful day—as he'd said, "I'm going upstairs to my office."
He'd kissed her cheek, his lips lingering longer than usual. "Always know
I love you and you'll never walk alone."

She hadn't been able to answer the odd comment because her mind
had been on Mitchell Durant. At the preliminary hearing the previous day he'd
annihilated her father's attorney. The judge had ordered Papa to stand trial.

She'd never forget the look on her father's face. He hadn't said
it but she knew he was thinking: This is the man you came home early to see?
This is the man you thought was so kind, so caring? She was sorry she'd ever
met Mitch, and even sorrier she'd told her father about him.

Papa walked out of the kitchen, his once proud shoulders stooped.
She almost followed him, but decided to let him do some thinking. She'd tried to
persuade him to hire a better attorney and fight, but he'd been too depressed
to discuss it.

He'd been despondent since Mama died, saying he had no reason to
live. The ache in her heart almost reduced Royce to tears. She loved him more
than anyone in the world, but she wasn't enough. Mama had been his strength,
his inspiration.

Would anyone ever love her that much? Royce wondered.

She was feeding Rabbit E. Lee when a loud noise like a car
backfiring rang out from the attic. Lee dropped the carrot, his eyes riveted on
the upstairs window. No one had to tell them anything, they both knew Papa had
killed himself.

Upstairs in the attic office Royce covered her father with the
comforter from the daybed before reaching for the envelope with her name on it.
Inside were two notes, one for Wally and one for her, and a picture. She'd
never seen this photograph of her mother, but she instantly recognized her
mother's expression. She was smiling at the camera, her eyes alight with love.
Obviously, Papa had taken the picture. On the back was her mother's graceful
script.

"You're all the world to me. There isn't anything else."

Royce stared at the picture and felt her father's presence as if
his spirit still filled the room and she could talk to him. "You couldn't
live without her, could you, Papa?"

For one heart-stopping moment she thought she heard him answer,
"No. There's nothing more precious than her love."

Royce slowly unfolded the note, with the uncanny feeling that her
father's spirit was still present, lovingly guiding her, treasuring these last
moments before his spirit crossed over to another, far better world.

Dearest Royce,

Please try to understand. I can't face this trial without your mother.
I'm only part of a person without Sophia. When she died, I died too. I've
looked down life's road and what do I see? Profound, all-consuming loneliness.

I'm sorry to leave you and sad to miss the treasured moments I
planned to share with you. Oh, how I'd looked forward to walking you down the
aisle, to toasting everyone at your wedding, to holding my first grandchild.

There are memories I won't have, but I cherish those memories you
gave to me. You took your first step, toddling forward and yelling, "Dada!
Dada!" I'll never forget the Christmas pageant when you played the elf in
the third row. You kept waving to me all night.

Most of all I remember how you looked the night of your first
prom. That's when I realized that one day Id lose you to another man. One day
you wouldn't be Daddy's little girl any longer. And I hated that man even
though I never met him.

This isn't about you. It's about me. Darling, go on with your
life. You have Wally and your career. And one day that special man will appear
and you'll fall in love with him just as I fell in love with your mother.

Remember, I will always be with you in spirit. I'll be in the
flowers we love, in the midsummer sky, in the song of our robin who comes to
our garden each spring. Look for me there—in the things we loved—in your heart.
And you'll never walk alone.

Forgive me. I love you, but I can't go on without your mother. One
day, when you find your special man, you'll know how I feel. That person
becomes so much a part of you that existing without them becomes unimaginable.

Good bye, my darling.

Royce stood and gazed at the blanket covering her father. She
could feel his spirit reluctantly leaving her. Across every childhood memory she
saw his loving smile and heard his encouraging words. What would she do without
him?

"I forgive you, Daddy." She knelt and touched his chest
where the bullet had pierced his heart. "I'll never stop loving you."

She came to her feet slowly. "When you get to heaven and find
Mama, give her my love."

Until that moment she hadn't realized how fortunate she'd been.
Truly blessed. She'd had two devoted, loving parents. And her father had taken
special care to spend time with Royce. She'd lost something precious, unique.
And nothing would ever be the same again. Nothing.

Royce sat in the deserted cemetery with her memories, Jenny at her
side, until the sun slipped below the horizon, leaving shards of golden light
dancing on the water and a backwash of mauve to herald the night sky. She rose
and walked along the cobbled path toward the exit. At the gate she turned and
looked back at the matching headstones beneath the sheltering canopy of the
noble oak tree.

"Mama and Papa together the way they always wanted... for
eternity." Tears pooled in Royce's eyes. "And Rabbit E. Lee—free at
last."

"What are you reading?" Val asked.

Paul looked up from the criminology bulletin, surprised to see Val
standing there. She'd been moody all weekend, but she'd become even more
withdrawn since talking with Royce a few hours ago. He patted the space on the
sofa beside him. "I'm reading about soft lasers. The FBI has developed a
technique for lifting fingerprints from fabric using laser light. Makes it
harder for perps to get away with a crime."

"I see," Val said as she sat beside him, but she didn't
sound really interested.

"Are you upset about Royce?"

"Yes. She sounds—I don't know—distant. I wanted to talk to
her about something, but I wasn't comfortable. I think she suspects I did this
to her."

"Right now, Royce must feel like a rabbit cornered by a pack
of wolves, but I'm certain she doesn't suspect you." He excused his lie,
thinking he didn't want to upset Val. Until this weekend she'd been so upbeat
that he'd hoped she was finally getting over her brother's betrayal.

"You're going to find out who's doing this to her, aren't
you?"

Now he couldn't lie. This was the damnedest case. Whoever the perp
was, he—or she—had thoroughly covered his tracks. Despite an intensive investigation
only one new development had been uncovered, and he doubted it had any bearing
on the case. "We're going to have to count on Mitch to convince a jury
that Royce was framed."

"Oh, no. Poor Royce." She shook her head. "Now I'm
glad I didn't bother her with my troubles."

"Can't I help?"

She leaned over and kissed him—just a peck, not her usual
provocative kiss that led to sex. "I'm always crying on your shoulder. I
didn't want to bother you. I thought Royce would understand because she felt as
close to her father as I did to my brother."

Trying not to be hurt because she hadn't confided in him, he put
his arm around her and gave her a reassuring hug. "I love you. Let me help
you. Talk to me."