What We Find

by Robyn Carr

  Cal peered around the end of a grocery aisle at Jackson. Jackson chuckled a little in embarrassment and blushed. But Cal had a feeling there would be more than fireworks over the lake that evening.

  It was an exhausting weekend but just what everyone needed. On Saturday night Tom came to the camp with his kids and as soon as the sun was down, he and Jackson shot off some fireworks.

  The rest of the weekend was more of the same. It was busy and there was plenty of work to do but Cal enjoyed the friendly, happy energy of the crossing. There was a lot of cleaning up on Tuesday after the bulk of the campers had headed home. In the afternoon, Cal sat on the front porch of Sully’s house, out of reach and earshot, and called Becky.

  “We have court at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. I thought I’d touch base, make sure you’re ready and know what to wear.”

  “You don’t have to tell me what to wear, Cal. I know I should be conservative.”

  “Not Amish, just conservative. That trick of trying to look like a Sunday school teacher usually has the opposite effect. Be prepared for the judge to ask you a few questions about what happened. Answer just as you explained to me.”

  “Is it going to be okay, Cal?”

  “There are no guarantees but it’s my educated guess that you’re not going to spend any time in jail.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she said.

  He pulled his suit, the only one he’d brought with him, out of the back of his truck. The day he met Becky, he took it to the cleaners. It was covered in blue dry-cleaning plastic. He dressed early in the morning. His shirt was starched, his tie was probably still in style. He’d shined his dress shoes.

  “Can I borrow your briefcase so I look like a real lawyer?” he asked Maggie.

  “You didn’t bring a briefcase?”

  “I packed everything. I only brought a suit and a couple of shirts and ties in case I had to dress for some reason, but I honestly didn’t think it would be for a court appearance.”

  “That is a fine suit, California,” she said. Maggie sat cross-legged on the bed. Her long, brown legs stuck out of her khaki shorts and a white shirt covered a blue tank. “Did you go to work looking like that every day?” she asked.

  “I had a few good suits,” he admitted.

  “I bet you were a clotheshorse,” she accused.

  “I thought if I could have all those things I missed out on growing up it would make me a better person. It was a great lesson.”

  “Because it didn’t?”

  “You know the answer. You have to work on who you are from the inside out.”

  “Are you going to tell me about this court case when it’s over?”

  He grinned at her. “Probably not.”

  “Well, you’re very hot and I want to jump you. That suit turns me on.”

  “I’ll be wearing the suit when I come back. Be ready,” he said with a naughty grin.

  Cal met Becky just inside the courtroom doors and went through security with her. She was wearing a nice dark suit with a colorful scarf around her neck—no cleavage, no extra jewelry. She wore nude hose and black pumps and looked like a lawyer. Or one of the rich women from Aurora.

  Waiting outside their courtroom was Steve, the bartender from the hotel bar where Becky had been arrested. Cal shook his hand and thanked him for his appearance, but Becky looked confused. “Do you remember Steve?” Cal asked her.

  She shook her head. “But you look familiar.”

  Cal laughed. “He’s the bartender, Becky.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Well, I only had that one glass of wine.”

  “Am I going to have to testify or something?” Steve asked.

  “I don’t know. That’s not really up to me. If you do, it’ll just be that one question I already asked. We’ll have to wait to be called so let’s find a place out of the way to sit down. I’ll let them know we’re here.”

  Just as Cal was turning to go, a uniformed police officer appeared.

  “Now him I remember!” Becky whispered.

  “Best if we don’t talk to him now,” Cal said. “Just go sit over there.”

  It was over an hour before it was their turn to appear. Cal guided Becky to the defense table and indicated for Steve to take an empty chair in the gallery behind them. Then it was only minutes.

  The charges were announced. “The county versus Rebecca Canaday on the charge of soliciting.”

  “Everybody here?” the judge asked.

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Cal and the young ADA said in unison.

  “What’ve we got,” he said, turning pages.

  “We move for dismissal, Your Honor. The motion should be there. According to the arrest report, Ms. Canaday didn’t solicit anyone for any reason. There’s no probable cause or evidence.”

  “Approach,” he said.

  Cal and the ADA both went to the bench. The judge looked at the young ADA over the rims of his glasses. “You read this police report, Mr. Lockhart?”

  “Yes, sir. The police officer signed the report and will testify that they had an agreement on sex for money.”

  The judge raised an eyebrow. “The same police officer who wrote the report and failed to mention taking the defendant to a hotel room or giving her money? That police officer?”

  “They made a deal,” the ADA argued.

  “And was there a wire?” The ADA shook his head. “Witnesses?” Again the head shaking. “Corresponding evidence?”

  “We can supply the witness and corresponding evidence, Your Honor,” Cal said. “The bartender was a witness to the fact that no money changed hands. No money was even visible. He heard the whole thing and was about to ask the gentleman to leave the lady alone. The police officer cuffed her while she was sitting at the bar.”

  The judge gave the ADA a very tired, bored look. “I’m feeling very generous today, Mr. Lockhart. I’m going to give you a chance to drop the charges before I dismiss. Your boss doesn’t like it when his young ADA’s get their cases thrown out, so do be efficient. Do the right thing. And then get a remedial reading class. If it’s not in the report at least round up some proof that it happened.”

  “Yes, sir,” the young man said. “No charges will be filed.”

  “I’d prefer a dismissal, Your Honor,” Cal said. “I don’t want this charge visited on Ms. Canaday again. She doesn’t need the aggravation.”

  “Consider it dead, Mr. Jones,” the ADA said. “We’re done with this.”

  “Then an apology.”

  “Come on,” the ADA said.

  “Frankly, I think you should apologize,” the judge said. “Or we can go through the motions, swear the bartender and listen to his testimony. But—”

  “All right, all right. Sorry for the inconvenience!”

  “In writing,” Cal said.

  The ADA sighed. “Yes. Of course.”

  The judge gave his gavel a rap. “We’re done here. Next case.”

  What lies behind us and what lies before us

  are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.

  —Ralph Waldo Emerson

  Chapter 16

  Becky threw her arms around Cal’s neck, thanking him. The ADA promised there would be nothing on her record and when Cal left her, the bartender was chatting her up. Cal suspected he hoped for either an assignation or perhaps a business deal, though he was probably twenty-five to her thirty-six.

  He called Tom from the parking lot. “I’d like to talk to you when you have a little time. A private conversation. I’ll meet you wherever you like.”

  “I’m headed home for a little lunch between jobs. Is Becky all right?”

  “She’s fine, Tom. There are no charges.”

  He heard him sigh in relief. “Thank you. Thank
you so much.”

  “It wasn’t too difficult. So—will we be able to talk privately at your house?”

  “Yeah, the kids are all gone today. Noon?” Then he gave him the address in Timberlake.

  Cal pulled up to a good-looking, restored three-story Victorian. He remembered Tom’s story about the half a house and expected to see side-by-side doors, but there was just one set of double doors. There was a great wide porch, the floor painted blue and the porch rail white. The double doors were oak and leaded glass.

  When Tom let him in, Cal was speechless. He stepped into a roomy foyer, living room on one side and open staircase with a rich-looking banister on the other side. Straight ahead a hallway led past the living room and dining room. “Come on back,” Tom said. And Cal followed him into a large kitchen with what appeared to be fairly new stainless steel appliances. He turned around in a full circle.

  “Tom,” Cal said. “This is amazing!”

  “Thanks,” he said. He had bread, cold cuts, mayo and other stuff on the table and was building a couple of sandwiches. He shuffled everything together and finished quickly. He put each on a plate, sliding one to Cal. Then he grabbed a bag of chips and put it on the table.

  “You do that like a guy who’s been making school lunches for years.”

  “Tell me about Becky,” Tom said.

  “I can tell you the results of the proceedings. No charges were filed.”

  “So it was a misunderstanding!” he said, relieved.

  “I guess you could call it that. The assistant district attorney was a young, inexperienced guy who didn’t really vet that arrest report thoroughly—the police officer had not provided sufficient probable cause for the arrest. It was a sting, Tom. The officer shouldn’t have arrested her unless money changed hands, which it did not.”

  “What are you saying?” Tom asked, putting down his sandwich.

  “All arrests and court proceedings are a matter of public record. If you’re ever so inclined, you can look these things up and draw your own conclusions. The important thing is, Becky doesn’t have this on her record, doesn’t go to jail, doesn’t pay a fine.”

  “So it’s all good,” Tom said. “Want a Coke?”

  “Thanks, that’d be great. Can you tell me about this house? I thought you had part of a house?”

  “Eighteen years ago. Not quite half. We had our own entrance to the second floor from a staircase out back. Mrs. Berkshire had a small galley kitchen installed and we didn’t need much more than that. We had two rooms on the second floor, two on the third or attic floor. It was perfect for us. Especially when the kids were little. We fixed it up. And I helped Mrs. Berkshire with everything she needed. My dad and brother even pitched in a lot because Mrs. Berkshire was older than dirt and her son didn’t pay her any attention at all. We were all she had. We even put on a new roof. Then she died about ten years ago and left me the house.” He shook his head and laughed. “Her son didn’t like that much. He tried fighting it. But her will stuck. So we started tearing down walls and making it one house.”

  “Tom, it’s beautiful.”

  “Well, I work construction when I can. And I do a lot of built-ins for rich folks up on the ridge. Those are my best jobs.”

  “But this is incredible. How’d you do it?”

  “Well, hell, Cal—I had eighteen years to work on it! And my dad and brother helped. I had four kids and just got by the best I could—they were awful generous with their time. I try to help my folks and brother, too. You know, when we all work on the same team, stuff gets done.”

  Cal finished his sandwich and asked for a tour of the house and was astonished by the finishing detail work, not to mention the fact that a man and four kids lived in the house and it was spotless. “I run a tight ship,” Tom said. “I have to.”

  “I think you’re amazing.”

  “Cal, what’s going on with my wife?” Tom asked.

  Cal put his hands in his pockets and looked squarely at Tom. “I’m not at liberty to share our professional conversation, Tom. That’s the law—I could lose my license over it. But I can tell you a couple of things you already know, the most important being—she’s not your wife anymore, Tom. And you told me yourself—this isn’t the first time. That’s just fact.”

  “She said it was always a misunderstanding...”

  Cal just looked at Tom, great sympathy in his heart for the man.

  “I’ve been kidding myself, haven’t I?”

  Cal didn’t respond because he couldn’t.

  “Becky is one of the sweetest, most considerate women I’ve ever known,” Tom said. “She’s so loving and kind. She really cares about her kids and the kids love her.”

  “She’s their mother,” Cal said. “While not all mothers are so wonderful, I’m glad to know she’s a loving mother.”

  “But...?”

  “Tom, you’re going to have to figure this out for yourself. I wish I could somehow make this easier for you but the truth is, there’s nothing more I can tell you. I’m just glad we managed to work out this court case so neatly. You’re going to have to take it from here.”

  “I’ll pay you somehow.” He laughed uncomfortably. “I don’t even know what a lawyer gets for a case like this.”

  Cal put a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about that, buddy. We’re friends. We help each other when we can. Right?”

  “Right. Well,” he said, rubbing a hand around the back of his neck. “Thanks for everything. I really appreciate it.”

  * * *

  July ended toasty and warm, the lake was refreshing and the landscape was lush. The garden was plentiful and since his schedule wasn’t demanding most days, Cal was out on the trails several times a week for a few hours. He came across the search-and-rescue team running exercises along the mountain face, climbing a steep rock and rappelling down. He watched Jackson training with them for a while, wearing his rock climbing rigging proudly.

  Cal thought he might have to try that one day soon. Then he looked straight up to the top of that mountain and almost swooned. He decided he could probably find better things to do with his time. Some of the trails that wound around the steep side of the mountain were challenging enough.

  Maggie, however, was like a goat. She went along with him sometimes; she was sure-footed and lithe. They usually didn’t talk until they reached a summit and relaxed, enjoying the view. They’d sit, guzzle a pint or so of water, let the breeze cool them and unwind before they talked.

  “I think you’re starting to like Colorado,” Maggie said.

  “Colorado has a lot to offer,” he said, putting his arm around her.

  “What are the chances you’ll stick around?”

  “I haven’t made any plans to leave yet, Maggie. You getting tired of me?”

  She laughed. “Do I act like I’m getting tired of you? You’re almost like one of the family. If you leave now it might upset Sully more than me.”

  “I hope that’s not true. I haven’t spent much time with Phoebe and don’t know Walter yet.”

  “I don’t want to scare you off,” she said. “I’ve been wondering—how did it feel, doing a little lawyer work?”

  “Very familiar,” he said with a laugh. “It wouldn’t be a big deal to rent space, take a few clients here and there. I don’t want to make any fast moves,” he added.

  “I know you’re in flux, that you left Michigan in a state of grief and by the time you got here you weren’t sure what kind of life you wanted. Are you getting any closer to knowing? Like where you want to be? How you want to live? Work? Any of that?”

  “I kind of like the life I have right now. It’s satisfying.”

  “What about lawyering?”

  “Turns out there’s a use for me in that regard, as well,” he said. “I worked a lit
tle bit.”

  “But were you paid?”

  “I’ll be paid one way or another,” Cal said. “But then it turns out I don’t need much money, living off my girl like I am.”

  “I’m your girl, am I?”

  “I’d say we’re pretty attached. Wouldn’t you say?”

  “What I want to know, Cal, is will you ever be able to talk about the future? Because I might want to. Talk about the future.”

  “And I’d love to hear what you have to say about it. From what I’ve heard so far, you and I are in the same bucket here—trying to figure out what to do next.”

  “Well, for starters, I want to stay here. I’m planning to raise a family here.”

  “Ah,” he said. “Are congratulations in order?”

  “I’d like to tell you something very personal. Sully doesn’t know. No one around here does and only a couple of people in my other world. Can you keep a confidence?”

  “You know I can.”

  “I do know you can. A little too well for my tastes. I’d love to know about your court case, and yes I know you weren’t teasing me—it was really court. You were dressed way too pretty for just giving legal advice or helping someone understand statutes.”

  “Could have been a meeting with an IRS auditor,” he suggested. “It’s smart to dress up for those guys, too.”

  “Never mind,” she scoffed. She took a breath. “Here goes. I think I loved Andrew. I was seeing him for a couple of years. I was prepared to marry him. We lived in different towns but the distance was commutable if our situation changed, like if we wanted to live together. Then it did change. I got pregnant. And,” she said, taking a breath, “he was very clear, he didn’t want to have a child. He’s forty and is the single father of an eight-year-old daughter. He had a pretty unhappy marriage and ugly divorce and he was not inclined to be the happy daddy. The fact that I was excited about it didn’t seem to change things. But I guess all that’s kind of irrelevant—I miscarried.”