A Family Man At Last

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A Family Man At Last Page 14

by Cynthia Thomason


  She nodded. “See you on Monday. And it’s fine to come by the house for Emilio. I’ll let him and Mama know.”

  He kissed her again and together they walked to her car. She hesitated before getting inside, held his hand a bit longer than perhaps she should have. She hoped he would sleep well tonight, as she would if her thoughts and dreams would let her.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  WHEN EDWARD PULLED into the gravel drive in front of the little house on Lantana Lane the next day, he discovered a hollow piece of his heart when he didn’t see Monica’s car. He knew she was working, but still, she seemed so much a part of this setting—the floral garden, the lacy curtains at the window and the neat lawn beneath a palm tree.

  She’d said that crimes sometimes occur on a Sunday. He hoped she wasn’t on a call right now. He hoped she was safe. And it would be nice if she was missing him just a little.

  Rosa came out of the house with Emilio close behind her. She had on a colorful dress and wide-brimmed hat. Perhaps she was going to work in the garden when Emilio left.

  “Hello, Senor Edward,” she said.

  “Just Edward, Rosa. And thanks a lot for last night.”

  “Our pleasure.” She smiled warmly.

  “Hey, Edward!” Emilio called out and raced down the steps to greet him.

  Edward shook his hand. “Hey, Emilio. Ready for some fun?”

  Emilio gave his grandmother a confident grin. “Yes, I can’t wait.”

  Rosa waved. “Okay. Remember to mind your manners today. Edward does not want any naughty boy.”

  “Are we really going in the water?” Emilio asked. “Tía ’Nica doesn’t take me too often. She’s always busy.”

  “We are,” Edward said. “We’re going to practice breathing underwater.”

  “Like a fish?”

  Rosa laughed.

  “Very much like a fish,” Edward said.

  “Bring him home whenever you like,” Rosa said. “I will be here. I know from experience that little boys can be a handful.”

  Edward wondered if she was referring to her grandson or her own son, Miguel. “We’ll be fine, Rosa. Don’t worry. I have prepared a picnic lunch for us, so don’t expect us until the late afternoon.”

  Emilio ran back to the house and brought out a backpack with a beach towel peeking out of the top.

  During the drive to the marina, Edward explained a bit about snorkeling, saying that his own father had taught him the basics when he was a teenager. “Unfortunately, I haven’t found time to do much snorkeling in the last few years. So this will be as fun for me as I hope it is for you.”

  With a classic little boy’s enthusiasm, Emilio bounded out of the car, grabbed Edward’s hand and raced toward the beach. Edward laughed. “Slow down, Emi. I’m not as young as you are.”

  He was happy to see the boy’s excitement, but he still went slowly, having Emilio practice breathing through the mouthpiece before they went into the water. Then he fitted a small mask over Emilio’s nose and eyes, and had the boy lower just his face into the shallow water and continue his breathing. Emilio’s breaths were short and tense, but he soon was inhaling almost normally. Only then did Edward attach child-size fins to Emi’s small feet and show him how to paddle in a smooth, fluent manner.

  “I can do it, I can do it!” Emilio shouted with pride.

  Edward didn’t point out that he hadn’t taken his hand from the child’s tummy since they entered the water. He didn’t want Emilio’s enthusiasm to be crushed with this first lesson. But he was quick to point out that the boy was not quite ready for deep-water snorkeling yet.

  “You’re doing really well, Emilio,” he said. “Being in the water can be fun, but it can also be dangerous. You must never go in the water without an adult with you until you’re a big boy. Do you understand?”

  Emilio nodded. “But you’ll go in the water with me, won’t you?”

  “Whenever I can, but you’ll have to remember to stay close to me for a while.”

  Emilio shifted his mask to the top of his head and let the snorkel hang around his neck. “Can we try one more time?”

  “Yes, we can, but afterward how about some lunch?”

  “Okay.”

  “I hope you like ham-and-cheese sandwiches,” Edward said later when they sat at a table on the porch of the house.

  “I like them. And chips.”

  “I just happen to have some chips, too,” Edward said. “And fruit punch.”

  Emilio ate eagerly. “This is the best lunch I’ve ever had.”

  Edward smiled at him over his own sandwich. “That’s fine, Emilio, but I’m sure your abuela has fixed you some good lunches, too.”

  Emilio nodded. “But she has never let me be a fish.”

  They remained silent for a few minutes, each enjoying their lunch and lost in their own thoughts. After a time, Emilio said, “I don’t like to be alone.”

  Edward stopped eating and put down his sandwich. This was such a strange thing for a little boy who was so loved to say. “Are you ever alone, Emilio? Aren’t Tía ’Nica or Abuela always with you?”

  “Yes, but remember when you and Tía ’Nica found me at McDonald’s?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “I was alone then. There was a police lady, but I didn’t know her.”

  “You must have been frightened,” Edward said. “Your aunt and I were so happy to come and get you.”

  “My papa left me there.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Would you ever leave me alone somewhere?”

  Edward swallowed, took a deep breath. “No, Emilio, I never would.”

  Emilio smiled and took another bite of his sandwich. “Then I like you better than I like my papa. Is that okay?”

  “I’m happy that you like me.” Edward had to pause until he was certain his voice would sound normal to this child. Edward had never been close to a child, with the exception of the few he encountered in foster homes. And those were not happy memories. Now he was sharing time with Monica’s nephew, and he was about to meet his nieces and nephews in South Carolina. All at once those experiences were beginning to appeal to Edward as he never thought they would. He patted Emilio’s hand and said, “I like you, too.”

  While they finished their meal, Edward thought back to his interview with Miguel. He still believed that Miguel hadn’t murdered the judge. But he didn’t like thinking that the man might have unsupervised contact with his son again. Maybe there was something he could do about it when he was back to work in Miami. Edward knew what it was like to have frightening moments as a young boy. He didn’t want that life for Emilio.

  * * *

  ON MONDAY MORNING, Edward was busy going through more of his father’s possessions. As he worked, several questions about the judge’s life occurred to him. Why did his father have a gun in his nightstand drawer? Was he afraid for his safety? Why was there an unidentified key ring in his desk with only one key attached? What did that small key unlock? There didn’t seem to be a lock in the house that suited that tiny key.

  Edward planned to turn the gun into the sheriff’s department for appropriate handling. The key, he slipped into his wallet. Most of the numerous trinkets and souvenirs Edward found, he added to the boxes he intended to donate to the Keys Family Center. Perhaps some of the objects he discovered had some value and profits from their sale would help families in need.

  As he looked around the large home, which held the minutiae of his father’s life, he realized that there were aspects of Judge Smith that had remained unknown to Edward through the nineteen years they had been a family.

  “Don’t dwell on what you didn’t know,” Edward said to himself. “The memories you have of your father are enough to sustain you.” But what if there were clues that Edward needed to know? What if he discovered a p
iece of his father’s past that might identify his murderer?

  By midmorning, he called the Keys Family Center and requested a pickup for Friday morning. “There will be furniture and boxes of small items,” he told the coordinator. He then made an appointment with a Realtor to discuss the fate of the house, which was now in Edward’s name. In fact, everything the judge owned had been left to Edward. He wasn’t surprised. The judge had no other family that Edward knew of. Surprisingly, the judge had very little of monetary significance. A modest bank balance and pension from the state of South Carolina were the main sources of his father’s income after he retired from the bench.

  Edward wondered at the lack of funds in his father’s estate. He knew that the purchase of the marina must have taken most of his dad’s savings. Edward had been happy when his father achieved his dream. Because of his father’s generosity in supporting him through school, Edward made a good living and didn’t care about inheriting his father’s money. Nor did he want the big Florida-pine home that had given the judge solace in his last years.

  It used to be a warm and welcoming place, but it had lost its appeal since... Well, Edward would talk to the Realtor about possibilities.

  At lunchtime, a car pulled into the marina parking lot. He looked out the window to see if A.J. was around. Not seeing him anywhere nearby, Edward went outside. He thought all the renters had either canceled plans or shown up to lease boats this morning already. He was delighted to see Monica’s sedan slow to a stop near the house. Wiping the sweat from his face, Edward went to the porch to greet her.

  Monica looked like the official employee she’d appeared to be the first day he saw her. If only he’d known then what he knew now, that while small in stature, her competence was vast and inspiring. Now that he thought back to that day, Edward realized he’d been attracted to her even then. She’d shown compassion for his grief and empathy for his search for answers.

  He could see beyond the stiff police uniform and severe hair to the beautiful person she was when she was just herself, a warm and caring woman.

  She walked onto the porch. Edward reached for her and bent to kiss her. She smiled and stepped back. “Not now, Edward. I’m on duty.”

  “I’ll take that as a postponement, not a rejection,” he teased.

  “No, not a rejection.” She went to a pair of chairs on the porch. “Can we sit for a moment?”

  “Of course.” He was puzzled by her demeanor. All official and serious. Did she have news about his father?

  “I have something to tell you,” she said after they’d sat. “About the case of your father’s death.”

  “I thought as much,” he said.

  “I have been advised... Hmm, that is not accurate. I have been instructed to move on from this investigation.”

  He sat back, shocked. “You’re quitting? You’re not going to look further into this? Who gave you this order?”

  “The sheriff,” she said. “I can’t find fault with his decision. We have limited manpower in the Keys, and while this case is important to you, it simply cannot take up any more time without there being good leads to follow.”

  “But Monica, so far it’s been a pretty limited search. And you have discovered possible suspects.”

  “Yes, and I’ve spoken to each one. There’s simply not enough evidence to pursue any of these people. The truth is, Edward, none of the people I’ve talked to has a motive to kill your father. All the facts point to accidental death.”

  He sat silently for a moment, tempering his shock. He’d known, of course, that the sheriff’s department believed the theory of accidental death. But so far Monica had been willing to listen to his side. He hadn’t imagined that her office would cancel the investigation less than two weeks after his father died. He’d thought he would have time. He’d thought Monica would fight to keep the case open.

  He faced her squarely. “What do you think? Forget the sheriff and orders from the top for a second. What do you feel in your gut? Do you believe me?”

  She sighed. “I want to, Edward. You know that. But I have to agree with the call to close this as an active investigation. We’re not quitting the case completely. It will remain on our radar.”

  He nodded. He knew what that meant—little else would be done.

  “But in the meantime, the department won’t allocate any time, money or officers to actively look for clues?” he said.

  “That’s about it.” Her eyes were warm and caring when she looked at him, though her lips were rigid. “I’m sorry, Edward. This isn’t my decision, but I have to do what the sheriff deems is right.”

  “And you don’t disagree with him?”

  She shrugged, keeping her expression unreadable. “I don’t. Again, I am sorry.”

  He stood. “Well, that’s it, I guess. Any investigation will have to be on my own and I’m not giving up.”

  She stood, too, keeping her back straight. “Edward, please, you’re not trained to actively pursue a potential criminal. Don’t do anything that could put yourself in danger or could cause you to break the law.”

  “Thank you for your concern,” he said, his voice cool. “But I know what my instincts are telling me about my father’s death.”

  She took a deep breath, held it. “I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re not experienced in some aspects of criminal investigation, but Edward...”

  He frowned. “I know. You don’t want to see me hurt.”

  “That’s it exactly,” she said. “You should leave the investigation to officers, those of us trained—”

  “Excuse me, Monica, but the officers you’re talking about have given up.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Let me tell you something, Monica,” he continued. “Speaking of hurt, I was hurt when I came out to the dock that morning and saw the man I love and owe my life to, floating in the murky water. That is hurt, Monica. Hurt that doesn’t go away.”

  “I understand, but—”

  Whatever she was about to say, he wasn’t interested. The words would only reflect more law-enforcement speak about “all they can do,” or “in time you will get over this.” He didn’t want to hear another platitude. “Are you finished?” he asked.

  “Yes, I suppose so. Again, I’m so sorry...”

  “Me, too.”

  She descended the steps to the parking lot. Before walking to her car, she turned and said, “Thanks for taking Emilio out yesterday. He hasn’t stopped talking about his snorkeling lesson, about you.”

  Edward almost choked on his next words. “He’s a good kid.” He wanted to add, “Take care of him,” but he knew Monica would do that regardless. After all, family meant more to her than almost anything.

  It wasn’t too long after Monica’s visit that Edward received a phone call from his supervisor in Miami. “How’re you doing, Edward?”

  “Okay, I guess. Tying up some loose ends.”

  “I can imagine this has been hard. Sorry I couldn’t make it down for your father’s service.”

  “That’s okay, Marvin.” Edward liked his supervisor. He wasn’t a sentimental man, but when he expressed sympathy, it was clear that he meant it.

  “There is another reason for my call today,” Marvin said. “I don’t want to pressure you, but I need an ETA on when you’re coming back. You have a number of open case files that we need to clear up.”

  “I understand,” Edward said. “I’m about done here. Meeting with a Realtor on Friday to discuss what happens to the house. I should be back at my desk next Monday.”

  “That’ll work. I’ll inform the department and have some counseling sessions set up for you when you return.”

  Edward was grateful and almost relieved to be thinking about his job again, his own responsibilities. His life was not in the Florida Keys. This had been his father’s life, and Edward had merely parti
cipated. And now, his father was gone. Maybe it was time for Edward to consider that there was nothing else for him to do in Sweet Pine Key.

  “Thanks for the time off,” he said.

  “Sure. Again, I’m sorry, Edward. If there’s anything I can do...”

  “I’ve got it handled,” Edward told him. “But thanks.” He disconnected. Sure, he had it handled. He’d buried his dad, cleared out his belongings. He’d made donations to local charities. He’d tried to reconcile his gut feeling with the facts the police had gathered and believed were true. Only that gut feeling hadn’t gone away.

  And most of all, he’d met a woman—a beautiful, kind woman who seemed to understand him. A woman who wore her emotions like a badge of honor, a woman who not only cared about the people she loved, but who also protected and honored them and put their welfare above her own. A woman who kept her promises...or, so he’d thought. Logically, he knew she had to follow the sheriff’s orders. But emotionally, he still wanted her to believe in him.

  Edward went back to the task at hand. He had to have everything of the judge’s sorted by the weekend. There was still so much to do. At closing time, A.J. knocked on the front door. Edward went out on the porch. “I have your pay,” he said. “Thanks for taking over so much of the work around here.”

  The smells of the Gulf floated around them. Fish smells, earthy smells, the pungent odors of saltwater and the myriad creatures that lived in it. “No problem,” A.J. said, wiping his hands on his shorts. “All the boats are in and I’m going home now.”

  Edward recalled that besides an occasional stay in the bait house and, once in a while, a night in a tent, he had no idea where A.J. called home. He knew the man’s main mode of transportation was a bicycle. He knew as well that the judge had always paid him a fair wage, but certainly not a lavish one. So, what was A.J.’s life like when he left the marina? Maybe the judge knew about his employee, but Edward was just a bit ashamed that he did not.

  Edward walked back into the house and came out with A.J.’s pay. He handed over the customary cash. “See you tomorrow?”

 

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