by Beverly Long
“You’re working that case, aren’t you?” Amie, his youngest sister, asked.
“I am.”
“So what’s going on?” Amie probed.
“You know I can’t really say,” Rena said. “Just know that we’re all doing what we can.”
“I’m leaving town May 19 and not coming back until the twenty-first.” This from his middle sister, Suzanne. “George and I talked about it.”
“Everybody should do what makes them comfortable,” Rena said.
“You think that’s a good idea?” Amie asked. She sounded horrified. Like things might be much worse than she’d even imagined.
“I didn’t say that,” Rena rushed to assure her. “Listen, I’m going to go find the birthday boy and have him start the line.”
She walked downstairs knowing that she could tell them that they had nothing to worry about. None of them had signed a petition to save the Gizer Hotel. None of them was Tess Lyons.
“Hey, Josh,” she said, knocking the newly eleven-year-old on the shoulder. “Man, you look so much older than you did two days ago.”
He rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Aunt Rena.”
“It’s lunchtime,” she told the room of kids who were either watching the big screen on the wall or looking at individual devices. “And I want everybody to rave about the roast pork.”
“Does it taste like chocolate?” Josh asked.
“No. The chocolate cake tastes like chocolate. Now let’s go.”
Fortunately, during lunch, nobody talked about the dead women. It was all about the kids—what they were doing, how smart they were, how messy they were. Gabe’s mom smiled through all of it. She knew she was blessed to already have ten grandchildren.
And maybe, soon, one more, Rena thought. She gathered up dirty paper plates and helped Gabe’s oldest sister pass out cake. Then there were presents for Josh, mostly gift cards because he was too old for toys and nobody liked to buy a boy clothes. Once the gifts were open and the cake eaten, the women were back in the kitchen cleaning up. It was crazy. They were all working women, every single one of them, including Gabe’s mom, but still, when it came time to get the food ready and to clean up afterward, the Morgans were still very traditional. That was women’s work.
The other tradition was that they played cards. But today, she couldn’t stay for that.
Rena went to the kitchen to get her now-empty Crock-Pot. There had been plenty of pork left for Danny and the boys to have sandwiches for a couple days. She’d put that in the refrigerator earlier. Now, she didn’t see her Crock-Pot on the counter and thought that one of the sisters might have mistakenly put it away in Danny’s walk-through pantry that was off the kitchen.
She went to find it, and sure enough, it was back there. On the top shelf. She reached for it.
“Hey, gorgeous, what are you doing back here?”
“Getting my stuff,” she said.
“Let me,” Danny said. It made sense. He had six inches on her. He came and stood close, reaching over her. She tried to move out of the way but was trapped between his body and the shelving.
“How much is this worth to you?” he asked, holding it over her head.
She looked up. “Empty, not so much. The leftovers are already in your refrigerator.”
He lowered his arms, setting the Crock-Pot on the shelf behind her. But now she was...almost in his arms. “Got to get going,” she said brightly.
“Sweet RB. Always takes care of me.”
She could smell alcohol on him. The guys had been tossing them back during the card game. She tried to move one of his arms, to slip underneath, but they were rigid.
Now, she was a cop. And she knew how to take a man down. But this was Danny. And as her brain was processing that, he bent his head and kissed her.
She pushed him away. So hard that his back hit the other side of the pantry, knocking cans and boxes of food astray.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she asked.
“Rena,” he said. “Christ, Rena.”
Her legs felt weak, and her stomach was rolling. “Please, just stop. This never happened.” If Gabe ever found out that Danny had kissed her, he’d blow a damn gasket.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She grabbed her Crock-Pot and practically ran back to the living room. “Ready,” she said to Gabe.
“Sure. I’ll find Danny and say goodbye.”
“Okay. I’m going to take this to the car.” She was out of the house and at the car before she realized that she didn’t have the keys and couldn’t get in. Gabe came out a few minutes later, and she searched his face, praying that Danny hadn’t been a dumbass and confessed to her husband.
But he seemed okay. She relaxed and tried to put it into perspective. It was one kiss. But her cop mind wouldn’t let it go. Had one of the sisters put the Crock-Pot on the shelves because they hadn’t realized it was hers? But they’d all been there when Gabe had carried it in. Was it possible that Danny put it there and waited until he saw her go into the kitchen? Had he planned to corner her in the pantry?
That made her feel kind of sick.
“You’re quiet,” Gabe said when they were halfway back to their house. “Did my mom say something to piss you off?”
“Of course not,” she said. “I love your mother.” She loved all of Gabe’s family. All of them had been such a welcome relief after the cold sterile environment that she’d grown up in. Was that all going to change now?
Gabe pulled into the garage, and she was out of the vehicle fast. “I’ve got some work to do,” she said. She went directly to the bedroom.
She was grateful when her phone rang less than fifteen minutes later. She needed something else to think about. It was A.L.
“We got something,” he said.
She got up off the bed. “From the daughter?”
“No. I never connected with her. And I’m glad now. Because Tess called her parents this morning. They weren’t home but she left a message. And they called me. Here’s the transcript of the call. ‘Hi. Hope everything is going well. I’m doing fine. Really. Enjoying the quiet. Talk to you soon.’”
Rena let out a deep breath. It was so good to know that Tess was alive and well. “But where is she?”
“That’s the best part. She ended the message with a telephone number where she could be reached in case of emergency. I think this qualifies. We got the address using reverse lookup.”
“And?”
“Number belongs to a Chad Vogel. Have no idea what significance he might have to Tess. But we have an address for him on Shell Lake,” A.L. said.
“We were just there.”
“I know. She must have moved from Lauren’s cabin, but it appears she didn’t go far.”
“Are we going to call her on that number?”
“No. I don’t want her to run again. I’ll be by your house in fifteen minutes. Pack a bag. We’re not leaving that area until we find her.”
Maybe they could stay a couple weeks. By then, she might have forgotten the feel of Danny’s lips on hers.
What were the chances of that? “I’ll be ready,” she said.
* * *
A.L. was stoked. They were getting close. He could feel it. He pulled up in front of Rena’s house, and he didn’t even have to text her that he was there. She was already out of the house, as if she’d been watching.
“Did I interrupt big weekend plans?” he asked.
“No. We had the birthday party earlier today for Josh. He’s eleven. My pork drew rave reviews.”
“How’s the family?” That was how he always referred to the Morgans. They were a bit too clannish for him, always getting together for this or that. But Rena seemed to like it.
“Okay,” she said.
Usually, she had some story about one or two of them. Must h
ave been a slow news day.
They drove in silence for about ten minutes before Rena turned to him. “Danny kissed me.”
“Like a friendly hello or goodbye? An ‘I was aiming for your cheek but caught your mouth on the way’?”
“He cornered me in the galley pantry and kissed me.”
This was a family tale of epic proportion. “What did you do?”
“I pushed him.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I think Danny ought to consider himself a lucky man tonight. You’re a good shot.”
“It’s not funny, A.L. This is my husband’s brother.”
“Again, do I need to tell you that men are stupid?”
“He’d been drinking.”
“Makes us even stupider,” A.L. said.
“I don’t want it to change things. I don’t want to have to be on guard every time we have a family function. I don’t want to have to start making up excuses as to why I can’t go to things.”
“I get that it was a crappy surprise but is it possible that you’re making too big a deal about it?” A.L. asked.
“Of course that’s possible. But...” She stopped. “Oh, shit, I’ll just say it. It was the look in his eye. Intense. This wasn’t the work of a sloppy drunk.” She paused. “What should I do?”
“No, no, no. You do not get to ask me for relationship advice. I suck at this shit.”
“I need to talk about it. Unfortunately for you, you’re the one in the car with me.”
“I am not going to give you advice.”
“But if you were, would you say that I should just ignore it? Pretend it didn’t happen?”
“I didn’t say that,” A.L. protested. He did think it was a pretty sound idea. “You do what you want.” He drove for another minute. “You think Gabe would laugh it off if you told him?”
“Would you have laughed it off if your brother kissed Jacqui when you were married?”
“I don’t have a brother.”
“I know that. Work with me here. Your best friend, then?”
“Jacqui had an affair with my best friend.”
Now she was wide-eyed. “She did? You never told me that.”
“You probably missed my Facebook post on it.”
“All these years and you never said anything about it. What did you do?”
“I left. Packed up my toys and moved to another sandbox.” That made it sound easy, almost fun. It had been the darkest days of his life. Leaving Jacqui hadn’t been that hard because he’d been so pissed. Leaving Traci had opened his gut and let his intestines hang out.
“I’m sorry that happened,” Rena said.
“Shit happens,” A.L. said. “But you move on.”
Rena stared straight ahead, and he wondered what she was thinking. Finally, she turned to look at him again. “Is that what we’re going to tell Tess? That shit happens and then you move on?”
He shrugged. He didn’t know what they were going to tell Tess. But they were going to keep her alive. They weren’t going to let a madman smother her to death on May 20.
“It’s almost as if she’s running, you know,” Rena said. “Is it even possible that she knows that she’s in danger? I mean, if she signed on line sixty, then all the other signatures would have already been on the petition before she signed it. Could she have recognized the names when the paper published them? Does she realize that she’s next?”
He shook his head. “It wouldn’t have been a matter of looking at the names on lines ten, thirty, forty and fifty. There’d have been no reason to go by tens. She’d have had to look at every name, every fifty-nine of the names ahead of her, and remember them.” He drove another mile. “But I think you’re right. She’s running. I’m just not sure from what.”
* * *
Tess opened her second bottle of chardonnay. She’d finished off the first one at Lauren’s cabin. Had drunk the whole damn bottle on Wednesday, the day she’d arrived. Had been deliciously wasted when Lauren’s friend had stopped by to check on her, and the sharp realization that she wasn’t as alone as she wanted to be had hit her hard. People were still watching. And good God, a reporter wanted to talk to her, wanted her story. Like she wanted to open that vein.
She’d gone to bed pissed off, and when she’d awakened in the middle of the night, with a vicious need for a glass of water, she’d thought about the house with the for-rent sign that she’d seen on her way to Lauren’s cabin. It had made an impression because of the pretty white picket fence that ran along the edge of the road. It was sweet.
There, no one from...before...would stop by to “just say hi” or “to make sure you don’t need anything.”
The sun had barely risen when she’d put Tabitha in the car, drove to take another look at the house and gotten the phone number off the sign. Then she’d returned to Lauren’s, called from the cabin landline and left a message. A Mr. Vogel had called back within the hour. At first, he’d been reluctant to rent the house for only a month, but she’d said she had cash, and those must have been the right words. She’d omitted the fact that she had a dog. Tabitha was good, didn’t chew on things and hadn’t had an accident inside for more than a year.
He’d told her she could move in right away. She’d had a headache and felt mildly nauseated, but it hadn’t stopped her from packing her bags.
There’d been no more alcohol that day or the next, and she’d detoxified with enough water that she’d probably put a strain on her kidneys.
Yesterday, on Friday, she and Tabitha had spent most of the day walking on the gravel roads that crisscrossed every once in a while, creating multiple ways home. The little Yorkshire terrier had sniffed at every spring wildflower, making it more of a slow stroll rather than aerobic exercise.
The sun had been shining, warming her face. She’d not seen a single car. It had been wonderful.
She missed the lake, of course. Here the backyard was nothing but grass that stretched at least an acre until it was bounded by ugly wire fencing that paled in comparison to the fencing in the front yard. She guessed the house to be about fifty years old. It was a split-level frame without much style that had been popular in the 1970s. But it was clean and furnished, and beyond that, she didn’t care. The fact that there was a back porch was a bonus. She’d found lawn chairs in the garage, and now she had her feet up, literally, on the wooden railing. She poured her wine into a jelly glass and took a deep breath. The afternoon sun was very warm.
She’d gone into town this morning for groceries and wine, and she’d bought enough of each that she shouldn’t need to go back for another two weeks. Then she’d do the same thing again, and that should see her through the stay. While she was there, she’d seen a pizza place in the little town and had indulged in a small cheese and pepperoni.
Clark had said that she could have another month off. That would be enough time. It had to be. She needed her job. Needed the insurance benefits for her and Marnee. She supposed her daughter could get some health insurance through the university, but still, that would likely be a bad policy. And now, unfortunately, Tess knew all about how expensive it was to get sick or injured. When the bills had first started coming in, she could hardly believe it. All told, more than seventy grand, and she hadn’t even been fitted with a prosthesis yet. That would be more.
Her share would be eight thousand, her out-of-pocket maximum. It was a lot but still manageable. The woman in the hospital’s billing office had suggested that she set it up on automatic payments so that she didn’t forget. Like she was going to be able to forget that her left arm was partially gone. She was going to see its absence every day.
Everybody else was going to see it every day. Marnee had been a trouper. Had looked right at it in the hospital and said, It’s not that bad, Mom. Of course, she’d left the room pretty quickly after that,
and Tess had figured that she was puking in the bathroom.
Maybe because that’s what she’d done the first time. Not in the bathroom, but in the trash can that the nurse had hurriedly grabbed. And then she’d cried so hard and so long that she’d been afraid her throat was going to close up.
She hadn’t looked again. Not when the surgeon had come in to check, not when the nurse had changed the dressings, not when the physical therapists had breezed in, so cheery, as if it was a yoga class that Tess had signed up for.
She didn’t even look when her damn arm, the part that wasn’t there, hurt.
Phantom pain. That’s what they’d told her. When an amputee—God, what an ugly word—felt pain where their amputated body part had been.
You’re lucky it was your left arm. Since you’re right-handed and all. That had been the first idiotic comment that she’d had to endure. That had come from one of the aides at the hospital. Tess had flung her lunch tray across the room. She never saw that particular aide again, and nobody mentioned her.
I knew someone who lost her leg. Said it was the best thing that ever happened to her. Made her really get her priorities in line. That from Gretchen in the office. “Fuck you, Gretchen,” Tess said, raising her glass of chardonnay. She hadn’t been able to say it at the time, because she liked Gretchen, and the woman hadn’t intended to say something stupid.
“Fuck you, shark.
“Fuck you, ocean.” The place that had been her friend. Where she’d felt daring and young and, yes, fearless. All that was gone, too.
She heard a car engine. Earlier today, two cars had passed by. But this time, the noise didn’t fade. It got louder as the car pulled into her driveway. She could hear the crunch of gravel under the tires.
“Quiet,” she said to Tabitha, who didn’t bark, but she started dancing, her nails clicking on the wood boards. Tess got up and walked around the back porch to the edge of the house. Tabitha stayed at her side. She strained her neck to see who it might be. A man. His chest was broad, and he had the sleeves of his button-down shirt rolled up, showing strong forearms. The blue shirt was tucked into gray dress pants, and it was a good look. He had thick, dark brown hair that was cut well. He wore sunglasses.