“Why didn’t you show it to the sheriff?”
Jess didn’t break stride, keeping his voice down. “You just spent an hour with the man. You trust him?”
Maria didn’t even have to respond. Her smile was enough.
“Exactly my point,” said Jess. “No way I’m giving it to that lard ass. Then I’d have nothing to go on.”
“So you’re going to ignore him and keep digging into this?” asked Maria.
Then it was Jess’s turn to smile.
19
Jess found Lilah Webster in the cafeteria loading up a tray with “healthy food” items. Watching her pay for lunch, he once again thought she was a woman who went to great lengths to hide her attractiveness. She wore the white lab coat as a shroud; her body language indicated an intention to cover her femininity and advertise to one and all she was a proud member of the medical profession.
He waited until she sat down at a table in the corner. Once it was clear she was eating alone, he crossed the room and slipped into the chair across from her. She didn’t favor him with a big reaction, but his scrapes and singed clothes didn’t go unnoticed.
“You look like someone who belongs on one of my lab gurneys, Mr. Stark.”
“Too much desert sun.” Jess pointed at her food tray. “Can I ask you a couple of questions while you eat?”
Lilah took a bite of fruit salad and shook her head. “Long as I get back to my office in fifteen minutes. I’ve got an autopsy scheduled.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. Not the one that you’ve got coming up. My father’s.”
She stopped mid-bite. “We didn’t do one.”
“Excuse me? Did you see my father’s body?”
Lilah lowered the fork. The friendly façade was immediately dropped the moment Jess started to question her work. “You know I did. You saw me at the motel.”
“Then you saw the condition my father’s body was in.”
The medical examiner went into full-bodied defense mode. “And it was ruled a cardiac arrest at the scene—death by natural causes.”
Jess could tell that Lilah Webster believed every single word she uttered. But it didn’t alleviate his suspicions. “Still, I would’ve thought you’d do one, just to make sure.”
“If I double-checked every case that came through this building, I’d have bodies piling up around here for months, Mr. Stark.” Lilah actually smiled; validating Jess’s surmise—the medical examiner would have been a stunner if she had let down her scarlet mane and guard. “Besides which, the family didn’t want one.”
“My mother told you that?”
“She wasn’t the one who contacted me.”
Jess didn’t even have to ask the obvious question. He knew the answer.
“You talked to Edward Rice.”
She confirmed it with a slight nod. Jess rubbed a finger across his temple, the throbbing no longer just coming from the burn mark.
“Your mother had given him written permission to speak for the family,” Lilah explained. “He said everyone was in enough pain and saw no reason to put them through more than necessary.”
“I’m sure he did.”
Lilah Webster continued to express her regrets and condolences to Jess. But he had already tuned her out. He was too busy wondering if he could turn a corner in Palm Springs without Dr. Edward Rice waiting there.
Lena opened the front door. Concern immediately spread across her face upon seeing Jess. She had tended to his scrapes and bruises since he was a toddler and her first instinct was always to try and make things better. She indicated his singed clothes. “Mi Dios, what happened?”
“I see you haven’t talked to Maria yet.”
He slipped inside and closed the door. Lena looked at him, confused. “Maria?”
“Don’t worry, Lena. She’s perfectly fine.” He gently dissuaded her from tending to his wounds, insisting he was going to be okay. Lena kept pressing him about her daughter, so Jess offered up a G-rated version of Maria coming to his rescue. Lena was still horrified but Jess assured her that Maria had never been in any danger. She finally took his word for it and Jess asked where he could find his mother.
“In the Cactus Garden. She’s been spending more and more time there.”
Jess declined Lena’s offer of food and drink. He started down the hallway, then, turned back around.
“By the way… Maria?” He paused, wanting to express how bowled over he’d been by the girl who had blossomed so much in his absence. He could only come up with one word. “Wow.”
Finally, Lena had something to smile about. “I know.”
Jess continued down the hall and almost crashed into Sarah coming through the French doors.
“Jess…!”
“Not staying long, Sarah. I’ll try and not mess up the rug.”
He fingered his tattered wardrobe but Sarah had other things on her mind. “What the hell were you doing giving Edward the third degree at the country club?”
“You really don’t want to get into this.”
“Damn right I do,” she seethed.
“Okay. Sure.” No sense in beating around the bush with his sister. “Who the hell is this guy, anyway? He shows up out of thin air. Next thing you know Dad gets sick and he turns over Meadowland to him. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, he’s now got his hooks into you…”
“You’ve got no right putting down the man who has been here for this family when they needed someone.”
That stung more than a bit. But it didn’t stop Jess from continuing. “I just talked to the M.E. Did you know your boyfriend stopped her from performing an autopsy on Dad?”
“He said we’d been through enough sadness.”
“Or maybe he wanted him cremated before they could look into it further.”
Sarah started laughing. “Edward’s right. You’ve completely lost it.”
“He’s got you believing everything he tells you? Come on, Sarah—how much do you really know about him?”
Sarah answered with a touch of sadness. “A lot more than the guy who walked out on us seven years ago.”
Jess didn’t have a comeback for that one. Sarah brushed past him and headed for the stairs. For a moment he thought about chasing her, wondering if they could start the conversation over. It had been at least a decade since the two of them had a civil one. There was probably too much water under the bridge to try now, yet she was still his sister and had grown up with him in this house. Maybe not as much under Walter’s severe eye and hand as Jess, but after he left, Sarah had to endure seven more years of their father. It was no wonder she had hardened so. God knows how Jess would have turned out if he had stayed. He also knew Sarah well enough that reconciliation would have to come on her terms, so he gave up the fantasy and headed outside through the French doors.
He found his mother clipping cacti in a corner of the garden. She’d done away with the funereal black. She wore capris and a flowered blouse. A wide-brimmed hat shielded her from the beams of the setting sun. Kate continued clipping away methodically and Jess noticed that despite the mourner’s togs being put aside, his mother moved like a woman in a drug-induced state.
“Hi, Mom.”
Kate didn’t turn around. She continued to clip thorns. “Your father loved the desert. When we first moved here, he said ‘Katie, this place is an oasis people will flock to. And I’m going to lead them to it.’ ”
Jess continued to approach, but his mother still didn’t face him. “He had vision. I’ll give him that.”
“It didn’t help him see what was happening to him. Not until it was too late.”
“Most people don’t.”
He sat down on a bench close by. Kate turned around and saw his bloodied bruises and tattered clothes. “My God, Jess…”
She brought up a hand in concern. Jess eased it away and motioned for her to sit down instead.
“I’m all right, Mom.”
Kate let the clippers drop t
o the ground. She sank down onto the bench beside him with even more invisible weight on her shoulders.
“I’m so sorry this is what you came home to, Jessie.”
“I wish I had gotten here sooner.”
Kate took her son’s hand and gripped it tightly. She didn’t have to tell him she wished the same thing.
“I need to ask you about Edward Rice,” he softly said.
The mention of the physician broke the tender moment. Kate let go of Jess’s hand. “He’s been so helpful the past few weeks.”
“Did you tell him not to do an autopsy on Dad?”
“I didn’t see the point. What good would cutting him up do?”
“It might tell you if someone killed him. Wouldn’t you want to know who and why?”
“Would it bring him back? That’s the only thing I want—your father back. But I can’t have that, can I?”
She stared off into the garden, lost in memories Jess had no way of sharing. His relationship with Walter had only been worth forgetting. He gently turned the subject back to Rice. “Don’t you think it’s odd that Rice has become so involved with this family?”
“Not at all. He’s been a godsend.”
“How’d you meet him anyway? He wasn’t even in the picture when I left.”
“He was introduced by a mutual friend.”
“Mutual friend,” repeated Jess.
“Clark James.”
Thoughts raced through Jess’s head. He remembered the toast James had given Walter at the birthday party. And the picture of James he’d found in Cox’s apartment—the one with the mysterious “T” scrawled on it. Too bad that had gone up in flames with everything else.
“Clark James was no friend of Dad’s.”
“I know that,” Kate said softly. She turned to face her son. Jess was surprised to see the hurt in her eyes.
“You do?”
“For social purposes, they kept it civil. But I know Clark hated your father because of what happened seven years ago.”
Jess was shocked. “When did you find out?”
“Not right away. The longer we didn’t hear from you, the more I put things together.”
“Did you ever talk to Dad about it?”
Kate shook her head. “He was the father of my children. The man I’ll always love.” She took Jess’s hand again. “Your father changed after you left.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Take my word, Jess. He did. He never was the same afterwards.” There was an inherent plea in her eyes and voice when she asked the next question. “Now that he’s gone, can’t you finally forgive him?”
This time it was Jess who let go of her hand. “Obviously Clark James never did. Otherwise he wouldn’t have sicced Edward Rice onto him.”
Jess stood up. Kate’s eyes were filled with tears. “Jess, you should leave this alone.”
“I wish I could, Mom.”
He left Kate alone amongst the cacti where she could regret all that had passed. Jess headed for the side gate, feeling increasingly woeful about what was yet to come.
JESS BELOW
The cell phone was dying.
Jess tried not to flip it on, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to lie in the darkness. His body was completely submerged in water and he could feel it climbing up toward the base of his neck. The more Jess willed himself not to use the cell phone, it got overruled by wondering how much charge he had left.
He tried to distract himself with the circumstances leading to his predicament. Who were the two men that had knocked him out, tossed him in the car trunk, dragged him across the desert, and thrown him in an unmarked grave? He was fairly certain one had to be Edward Rice. Jess had been pretty vocal about his suspicions regarding the physician—it didn’t seem farfetched that his questions had led to the man taking desperate action. It gave Jess some solace he’d gotten under Rice’s skin. But in the end, who cared? Look where he wound up.
He figured the other man had to be the mystery motorcyclist. If so, this had been the third time in forty-eight hours they had crossed paths. Violence had ensued each time: a deadly car crash, a house burnt to the ground, and now outright—unless some miracle occurred—murder.
He wondered how his disappearance would be explained. Jess had been pretty intent on looking into his father’s death. Wouldn’t his family question his dropping off the face of the earth? Then, he imagined the trusted Dr. Rice counseling his mother and love-struck sister. Why should they be surprised? Jess ran out on them seven years earlier and they never heard once from him. How was this any different? Sarah would immediately subscribe to this theory, and sadly, rather sooner than later, Jess suspected his mother would too.
Despite trying to breathe steadily and distract himself, he couldn’t stop thinking about the cell phone. His heart raced like something out of a Poe story and he knew only one way to slow it down. He raised the phone up and flicked it on.
His heart began beating even faster.
The water was no longer dripping into the coffin. It was at the level of the crack in the casket wall and was pouring through an even larger hole. He was horrified to see the water level actually rise as he watched it.
The digital phone charge was maybe two percent. The luminous glow in the water turned the color of blood as the ice-blue phone readout flashed “Low Battery” in bright red. The display light flickered. Jess frantically fumbled for the button to save power for one last look—but the battery died before he could punch it.
He was thrown into complete darkness.
Jess felt the water move up his neck and his heart pummel faster. He instinctively tried to fend it off, pushing his feet against the casket wall to thrust himself backwards, but ended up smashing his head against the back wall. He opened his mouth to yell in pain—and got a big dose of riled-up water for his trouble.
Jess spit it out and choked. He tried to remain still as the water continued to rise, tickling the base of his chin. He was able to slowly back up a few precious inches and raise his head until it hit the casket lid. The effort put a ton of strain on his arms, holding his upper torso aloft in the water. He didn’t know how long he could keep himself up. The sad fact was even if he succeeded, the water would eventually have its way.
He could only hope that Tracy had phoned someone. She had to call somebody, didn’t she? Tracy wasn’t going to just sit there and do nothing. If he had ever meant anything to her at all—and he knew he had once meant everything—she would send someone to find him.
Right?
But how would they know where to look? He was in the middle of nowhere. The only way he would get discovered was when the State Highway Commission decided to put in a feeder road to Interstate 10 and started digging things up.
Jess willed himself not to think about that. He focused on one thing and one thing only.
The only person who knew he was missing.
Tracy.
Tracy…
20
The Jameses’ house looked deserted when Jess pulled into the driveway. No parked cars, only a couple of lights on in a palace that had more than five hundred. He had thought about calling ahead but nixed the idea. A phone call would give Clark James time to either bug out or concoct a story.
Jess rang the bell and got no response. He tried again and was about to head back for the SUV when a light flicked on in the hallway. Footsteps approached. Then the curtain in the side window slipped aside.
Tracy appeared on the other side of the pane. Her smile cut right through his heart. The drape slid back into place, the front porch light came on, and she quickly unlatched the door.
“Jess. Wow. This is a surprise.”
“Actually, I was looking for your dad.”
“He’s not here.”
She couldn’t hide her disappointment, but it was quickly replaced by concern. Jess had changed out of the singed clothes, but he still wore the telltale signs of going three rounds with a fiery blaze. “What hap
pened to you?”
“It’s one of the things I want to talk to him about.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You weren’t supposed to.”
She didn’t rise to the bait and instead opened the door further. “Come on in. You can wait for him. He went to the country club for a dinner meeting. He shouldn’t be that long.”
Jess hesitated on the threshold. Tracy’s smile was coy, scolding, and alluring all at once. “I’m not going to bite.”
He gave in and entered the house. Tracy wore a halter top, shorts, and sandals. Simple threads, plain colors, a beautiful girl. Jess followed her into the living room. His mind went back to a time when they would have made an immediate detour upstairs and not emerged from her room till the next morning.
But seven years was seven years. And though there might still be torrents of water under all those broken bridges, Jess knew in his heart they were beyond repair.
Tracy turned on a couple of lights and had him sit down on the couch. He passed on anything to eat or drink—even though he couldn’t remember when he’d last done either.
“Some Band-Aids? Soap for the wounds?”
“I’m okay, Trace.”
“You don’t look it.” She settled down beside him on the sofa.
“Been a long couple of days.”
“Did you find what you were looking for the other night when you ran out of the office?”
Jess thought about how much he wanted to tell her. He wasn’t really sure what he knew or surmised. It jumbled all together and most of it didn’t make sense. He chose the safest path. “I’m still trying to figure it all out.”
“What did you want to talk to Dad about?”
Jess figured there was no harm getting her objective view on the subject. “How long has your father known Edward Rice?”
Tracy frowned. Whatever she was expecting Jess to say, this wasn’t it. “For a while. Five years, I’d say. Why?”
“He’s gotten pretty tight with my family, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“I’ve heard people talk. Can’t say I’ve witnessed much with my own eyes. I haven’t spent a lot of time with the Starks since you left. As you can well imagine.”
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