Twisted Reason (14 page)

“Live here? Wit me? Naw. Naw. De all left me. Long time ago. Ya wanna live here wit me?” he asked, his mouth stretching into a distorted grin.

Oh, good grief, he doesn’t look capable of tying his own shoes, let alone taking part in a crime.
He probably couldn’t get out to the mailbox without help
. But, she still had to talk to him and she doubted if he’d get sober without assistance. She hated the thought of putting him in the back seat of her car. She thought about calling for a patrol unit to take him in to sleep it off. But that felt too wimpy.

“Come on, Mr. Sanford. Stand up. I’d like to talk to you down at the station. Want to take a ride with me?” She almost cuffed him but thought better of it. Likely, it would be easier coaxing him to her car if she didn’t. And as drunk as he was, she knew if he tried to get away she could run him down – he probably wouldn’t get more than two feet without falling on his face.

She shivered in revulsion as she wrapped a hand around one of his skinny arms. He let her lead him to the vehicle without causing any problems. Opening the rear door, she put a hand on his head to guide him safely inside.

His body stiffened, turning toward her, his lower lip stuck out further than his nose, and he said, “You arrestin’ me, girly?”

“Mr. Sanford, wouldn’t you be in handcuffs if I were arresting you?”

His brow furrowed as he blinked his eyes. He held his hands up before his face.

“I just want to take you on a little ride down to the Justice Center. Why don’t you slide on in?” Lucinda coaxed.

“Oh,” he said, unlocking his knees and allowing her to ease him into the back seat.

Twenty-Two

Ted put his keys in the front door and mentally took a deep breath as he opened it and walked inside his home. He felt more awkward this evening than he’d felt even on his first date with Ellen when he’d had to face her controlling father, the judge.

He found his wife in the kitchen where she was tossing salad in a huge glass bowl. “Hi, Ted,” she said, shooting him a smile over her shoulder.

“Where are the kids?” he asked.

“They are both spending the night with friends. I thought it would be good if we had some time alone.”

Ted swallowed involuntarily, felt a clamminess on his neck and sensed his testicles pull tight against his body as if trying to slip inside to hide. “Really?” he said, his dry tongue clacking against the roof of his mouth.

She kept her back towards him and said, “Yes, Ted. I think we really need to have a long talk and with the kids underfoot, I don’t think that’s possible.”

“A talk?”

She turned around and looked at him with a furrowed brow and half of a smile. “Good grief, Ted. What did you think?” She flicked his arm with a red and white checked kitchen towel. “Neither one of us are ready for anything more right now.”

“Oh,” he exhaled deeply.

Ellen shook her head at him. “So typically male. Top of your mind is always sex even when you’re not interested in having any. Go turn on the grille. I’ve got a pair of rib-eyes marinating, the potatoes are baking and I just finished with the salad. And before you ask, no, I am not getting out the candlesticks or the white tablecloth – absolutely no plans for a romantic evening, Ted. So you can relax.” She picked up the salad bowl and slid it into the refrigerator.

As he opened the back door, she said, “Oh, another thing. I didn’t say we need to talk because I want to bitch at you about something. I just want to talk – about the kids, about the future and about the conversation I had with your dad.”

Ted pulled the door shut and walked across the patio to the gas grille. Lifting the lid, he sighed.
Relax. Oh sure. She throws in the kids, my dad and she says “relax.” And how did she know I wanted to talk about the same things? She seems to know what I’m thinking – she could always do that. There was a time I appreciated it, but now it kinda creeps me out.

He went back into the house, forcing a smile. “Grille’s heating up.” He pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table.

“Good. Could I get you a beer, a glass of wine?” Ellen asked.

“Yeah, sure. A beer would be great.”

Ellen pulled a Corona out of the refrigerator and poured a glass of Lambrusco. She stuck a sliver of lime in the mouth of the bottle and set it in front of Ted with a smile. “Surprise!”

“Nice. Thanks,” he said but his anxiety level rose up another notch. Corona was a treat and he wasn’t sure of the meaning behind it. He stared at the bottle watching beads of water forming on the glass.

Ellen pulled the glass pan with the steaks and marinade out of the refrigerator and noticed he hadn’t touched his beer. “What? You don’t like Corona anymore?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he said, sticking an index finger on the lime and popping it down into the bottle before lifting it to his lips. He took a swig but the lump of dread in his throat made it difficult to swallow. “I’ll put the steaks on.” He took the pan from her hands and walked back out onto  the porch. He hoped he could stay out there, away from Ellen, until they were done.

He sighed as the door opened and Ellen stepped out, his beer in one hand, her glass of wine in the other. “It’s awfully nice out for so early in the spring.”

Ted grunted, accepted his beer and forced down another swallow. Ellen still seemed cheery. The breezier she became, the more uptight Ted felt. He wished she would go back inside. A ding from the timer on the stove was the answer to his prayer.

“Ah, the potatoes should be ready. I’ll poke them and see. A couple more minutes on the steaks?”

“Yeah,” Ted said.

She went inside and popped back out too quick for Ted’s comfort. “They’re done. I turned off the oven. How about the steaks?”

Ted lifted the lid and flipped the meat. If he left them on another minute, they’d be overdone. He sighed. “Yeah, looks like they are.” He lifted them onto a plate and turned off the gas.

“Terrific,” Ellen said, opening the door and holding it for him. In the kitchen, she served both of them. They took seats at the kitchen table across from one another. Ellen chewed a bite of salad, while Ted used a fork to toy with a slice of radish in his bowl.

“I called your dad this morning,” Ellen said.

“That’s nice.”

“We talked for about fifteen minutes. Well, to be honest, I did most of the talking but he did say he was doing fine and planned on taking a walk in the park.”

“That’s nice.”

“I thought so, too. But then, about ten minutes after that call, he called me.”

“Really. Did he forget something?”

“He forgot
everything
, Ted.”

“Everything?”

“Yes. He said, ‘Sure been a long time since I heard the sound of your voice so I thought I’d give you a call.’ At first, I thought he was joking. But then I realized that he’d already forgotten the phone call – just ten minutes later. I’m worried about him, Ted.”

Ted’s anxiety eased a little. She was giving him the opening he wanted. “That doesn’t surprise me, Ellen. I’ve been worried about him, too.”

“I don’t think he should be living alone any longer.”

“I know,” Ted agreed.

“I think we need to do something about it, right away.”

“You’re right.”

“I figured if we were really careful with our spending, we could make it until you found a job or we sold this house – whichever came first.” She split her baked potato in two, added a pat of butter, a spoonful of sour cream and sprinkled on a pinch of chopped chives.

Ted squirmed, realizing Lucinda was right. He should have talked to Ellen weeks ago. “I already have a job.”

“I know you have a job here, Ted, but I thought you might be able to find a similar position up there with the police or the sheriff’s department. Sure, you might have to take a cut in pay – it is a smaller city but—”

“No, Ellen. I’ve got a job offer up near Dad – in Charlottesville – at the Regional Computer Forensics Lab. And actually it’s a pay increase and a better health insurance plan, too, since I’ll be a federal employee.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I was planning on talking to you about it tonight.”

“How long have you known?”

“Just a few days. I’ve been thinking. I thought maybe I ought to take it and move up there and take care of Dad.”

Ellen stabbed a forkful of potato and brought to her mouth. She picked up her steak knife and carved off a piece of her steak and chewed on it as she stared out the window.

Ted sensed the fragility in the air. He dared not say a word fearing it would shatter the evening – and maybe his life.

Ellen set down her fork. “So, what about me and the kids? How did we fit into your plans?”

Ted ran his a hand through his hair, then brought it down, across his mouth.

“Well, Ted?”

“I, uh, I . . .”

“You were planning on moving up there without us.”

Ted hung his head and nodded.

“Have you lost your mind, Ted?”

Ted opened his mouth but could not form a word. He shrugged in silence.

“How did you expect to take care of your father and work at the same time?”

“I – I don’t know. Hire someone to look after him during the day if necessary.”

“That is so stupid. I’m not working. I can take care of him.”

“But, you and I – we’re not – I mean . . .”

“Ted. Listen. In your father’s big rambling house, we could each have our own bedroom – that sure beats you sleeping on the sofa like you’re doing now. Maybe in time, we’ll get back to where we were before we lost the baby. Maybe we won’t. Maybe we’ll just live like a brother and sister taking care of your dad and the kids. But I love your dad. I want to take care of him. And the kids – they need you.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“You think the kids don’t need you?”

He shrugged.

“Oh, good grief. Yes, the kids need you. Yes, I enjoy your company. And yes, I want to help you with your dad. So, what is the problem? Oh!” The color drained from Ellen’s face. “Is there someone else? If there is, that’s okay. I understand. I can see why—”

“No, Ellen. There is no one else. And before you ask, there is nothing going on between me and Lucinda.”

“Ted, I wasn’t going to ask. I’ll be honest – if you got involved in a relationship with her – or anyone – it would bother me because I do still have hope that our marriage can be repaired and renewed. But if you’ve had enough or if we just can’t recreate our former bond, I can accept that. In fact, I promise you, I will leave without a fuss the moment you ask me to do so. I just think right now, we need to be there for your dad – and it will take the both of us. And the kids? They don’t completely trust me yet. I left them for months. I was institutionalized and had no choice – but they don’t understand that – they just know I left them. You are the security in their lives. They need you, Ted, as much as they did while I was gone.”

“You really think so?”

“Yes, Ted, I know so.”

“You’re okay with being Dad’s caregiver?”

“Aside from the fact that I wish he did not need one – yes, totally. He has been wonderful to me since before we were married. He’s a great guy and the children love him, too. It’s going to be hard for the kids to transfer in the middle of the second semester at school but I don’t think it’s wise to leave your dad alone until then.”

“Maybe I can go up right away and you can come up when the school year is out?”

“How would that work?” Ellen asked.

“There must be a way. I’ll accept the job – I don’t think they want me to start for a month so that solves the problem for a short while. And during that time, I’ll look for an adult day care center, home care nurse or nurse’s aide, whatever – the solution might be expensive but it’ll only be short term.”

Ellen nodded. “We can do this, Ted. We can make it work as long as we need to.”

“I hope we can. But if I start showing my ass, you’ll have to speak up.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, that so won’t be a problem.”

Twenty-Three

Lucinda started her morning in an interview room at the county jail. She sat in a wooden chair on the far side of a metal table. Jeremy Sanford shuffled through the door a few minutes later. He looked better than he had the night before, but even if you shaved his stubble, combed his hair and put on clean clothes, he wouldn’t be winning any blue ribbons.

“Good morning, Mr. Sanford,” Lucinda said.

Sanford narrowed his eyes. “Prove it.”

“Have a seat, sir. I just have a few questions.”

“First you answer a few of mine. Last I remember, I was sitting, watching TV in the comfort of my home. Then I wake up in this hellhole. What’s up with that?”

“I had some questions for you, Mr. Sanford. Asked you to come down to the station with me and you did.”