The Desert Behind Me

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The Desert Behind Me Page 21

by Shannon Baker


  I couldn’t wait to flee into the darkness and away from Rafe and his judgement. But my fingers on the handle squeezed and wouldn’t open the door. Was it better to stay with Rafe or face this new unknown?

  A sparkling silver Nissan Altima took up my driveway. Who?

  The Chorus ratchetted up, whispering and questioning. I pushed on Rafe’s door and struggled to stand, eyes riveted to the Nissan.

  Rafe sped away as soon as the door clicked shut and I wallowed in a growing sense of doom. I didn’t have long to wait before the mystery was solved.

  My front door opened and Mom stepped out on the porch.

  37

  “What a surprise!” Did I play delight correctly? Would it convince her?

  She strode down the walk, face set in a stiff smile. “I can’t get a straight answer from you. If I have to fly all the way out here, then that’s what I’ll do.”

  When she was close enough, I threw my arms around her. “It’s great to see you.” And it was. Two years since we’d been face to face. She’d brought me here, into the healing sunshine, away from the pain and searing memories, and then she’d climbed on a plane and flown out of my physical world.

  Now she was standing here and her embrace felt somehow weak. I pulled back. “Are you okay?”

  Dark bags hung under her eyes and her skin had a pasty look. “It’s this whole election. I’m putting out fires right and left, trying to keep the morale up when we’ve got the special investigator shoveling crap and sticking her nose into everything. And I’ve been worrying about you.”

  It’s all your fault.

  You only cause her problems.

  Stab your eyes with the car key.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry. But you’ll see, I’m fine.” I wouldn’t tell her about Cali. She didn’t need more to worry her.

  “We’ll see how fine you are. I know you like the sunshine and warmth down here, but it might not be what’s best for you. If you aren’t doing well, I’ll have to move you back.” Mom gave me a tired smile. “Don’t look so upset. It would be nice to have you closer.”

  Forest Hill.

  Cold. White.

  Shackles under the bed.

  I couldn’t say anything but she didn’t seem to notice.

  Mom strode to the front door. “Why don’t you come inside? I’ve been here all afternoon so I started dinner.”

  I glanced across the street to see lights but no vehicles in the driveway. Was Kaycee okay? Where were Mrs. Dempsey and the kids?

  I hurried inside the house. The nauseating smell of hamburger frying met me. Mom stood at the breakfast bar chopping onions. She glanced at me and back to her knife. “I had to run to the grocery store. You didn’t have anything except the dregs from a farmer’s market. I’m making goulash.”

  I wanted to say something about goulash being her specialty. But Frank tried to force me to say that, of course, she would make her lousy goulash because it was the only meal she could manage.

  I clamped my hands over my ears and pulled them away quickly before Mom noticed.

  “I don’t know why you insisted on this place at the edge of the known universe. The store is so far away.”

  “The knife is within reach.” Frank said.

  I answered him. “She’s here to help.”

  Mom’s head popped up. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Walking took all my concentration with Mom watching me. “I think I’ll go sit out back and relax a minute. I had a long day.”

  She didn’t say anything while I filled a glass with ice water and a lemon slice. The crowd in my head kept at me. If I could make it to sit by the side of the pool and speak with Frank, the others might fade. Then he could tell me where Cali was.

  “…call Tara.”

  The last words spiked through the noise. I whirled around. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  “You’re pale and talking to yourself. Honey, you’re not well. I’m going to call Tara and see if I can take you in immediately.”

  “No!” I hadn’t meant to shout.

  She whipped her head back as if I’d struck her. “I really think it’s best.”

  “Please. I’m sorry I yelled. But I’m trying to cope on my own. Can you let me work it out?” My grip on the cold water glass felt like a lifeline.

  She studied me. “Clearly, you’re upset. Maybe if you take a pill.”

  I wrenched the door and walked outside. “I know how to take care of myself.”

  She followed me. “By yourself? What about the cop who dropped you off? Is he the one you went for drinks with the other day?”

  I understood her concern for me. In a weird way, it paralleled Frank. But both could be destructive if I let them.

  Mom usually kept her temper better, but this election cycle must be taking its toll because she bristled. “I didn’t spend thousands of dollars on doctors and hospitals and countless hours supporting and comforting you to see you throw it all away because a good-looking man charms you.”

  “Rafe is a nice person.” Though after tonight, he wouldn’t be a friend.

  “Honey, you don’t need cop friends. Their lifestyle, the hours, the drinking, the stories. It will draw you in. It’s not good for you. It’s why you shouldn’t be an Arizona Ranger.”

  The low rumble of the Chorus distracted me and I concentrated on Mom’s lips. “I like the Rangers. Makes me feel useful.”

  “There are other ways to be useful.”

  “But I’m trained for this kind of work.”

  “Of course. But it’s obviously a strain. You look terrible. I’ll bet you’re not sleeping. And what about the voices? Are they back?”

  “Lie,” Frank told me, though he needn’t have bothered.

  “No voices,” I said.

  She folded her arms, clearly unconvinced. “You don’t need to cover up to me. I’m here to help you.”

  “Okay, yes. I hear the voices. But it’s not ‘again.’ It’s still. I’ve heard voices my whole life, Mom.”

  She waved that off. “You haven’t. Imaginary friends aren’t the same as a psychotic break. Every child has made-up friends.”

  A spark of anger forced words. “Do they have made up mothers named Maggie?”

  Her face dropped. “There’s no need to be cruel. I was a working mother. I felt, and still do, that having a successful career was the best role model I could give you.”

  “I’m not complaining. You’ve showed me love, loyalty, and support my whole life. If I’d felt neglected or unloved, do you think I would have chosen the same path?”

  Mom looked away, one of the few times I’d ever seen her doubt her choices. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. I thought it was my job to help you succeed. But you never had the temperament to be a cop.”

  “I loved being a cop. And a mother.” Oh God, I’d loved being a mother. “It wasn’t my career that broke me. And being a cop didn’t cause the voices. I’ve always heard them. I just lost the ability to manage them, and any reason to care.”

  Maggie’s soft voice pushed through. “That’s not true, dear. I haven’t always been with you.”

  Peanut unexpectedly began to cry. Her plaintive sobs cut through me. I knew she wanted me to ask her why she cried. I’m sorry. I can’t.

  Mom shifted from foot to foot. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but the voices are in your head. You indulge yourself when you treat them like separate entities.”

  I’d rarely discussed this with her and wasn’t sure I wanted to now. “I know they are all part of me. But trying to ignore them or pretend I can make them go away doesn’t work. The issue isn’t hearing them, it’s learning to live with them.”

  Mom took my hand and led me inside to the dining table. She pulled out a chair and motioned for me to sit.

  “Before you get upset, just listen.”

  My heart thudded; I braced for whatever was coming.

  “I was afraid you’d taken a bad turn. Th
e fact that you’ve missed some appointments with Tara, and finding out from your company commander that you’re temporarily suspended makes it clear you need to distance yourself from stress.”

  “You called Mitch? You had no right!”

  Mom covered my hand with hers. “You’re coming apart.”

  “I’m—”

  “I’ve arranged for you to go to a spa in Palm Springs.”

  “NO!” Frank, the Chorus, and every voice screamed.

  “Mom, I—”

  “Just listen. It’s not a sanitarium or hospital. It’s a spa. There are some people who can help you if you need, but only if you require them. Other than that, you can relax and not worry about anything. Maybe read some novels, watch movies, eat great food, get massages. It’ll be just what you need. If you don’t improve, then we’ll have to move you back up to Forest Hill.”

  I rubbed my temples and did my best to quiet Frank. “Okay. I’ll take time off from the Rangers. But please, I’m not going to Palm Springs. I’m fine, honestly. Just trying to transition from meds to dealing with life on my own.”

  She sat at the table scrutinizing me. “If you’re fine, as you say, why would a Raphael Grijalva be calling my office to check up on you?”

  I fought to stay neutral. “It’s nothing. I’m helping out with an investigation because of something I saw while on duty.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What kind of investigation?”

  “A missing girl.”

  She shifted into her sheriff mode. The one she’d perfected long before she rose through the ranks. The tone she used to keep me and Dad in line. “This is what is going to happen. You’re going to resign from the Rangers. You don’t need it. They obviously don’t need you. I can’t believe Tara allowed it in the first place. It is not healing.”

  If she heard the cursing in my mind, even as a veteran cop, she might be shocked. “The Rangers haven’t—”

  Her iron voice drowned me out. “Listen to me, if people start digging, they might discover why you retired early with full benefits.”

  Guilt.

  “Is being a Ranger worth ruining your life? Worth me losing everything I’ve worked my whole life for?”

  I couldn’t answer for the screaming in my head.

  “Think long and hard about this, Jamie. I only want what’s best for you.”

  38

  The doorbell burst like church bells, echoing in our silent standoff. After a second, I strode to the door and without looking out the blind, threw it open.

  Sherilyn, in her cutoffs and tank top, eyes puffy and dark, hair like a dove’s nest, launched herself into my arms and burst into tears.

  Kaycee’s dead.

  Zoey’s dead.

  Cali’s dead.

  I wrapped my arms around Sherilyn and hardened myself. Someone needed to hold her up. I hadn’t been able to go on when it had happened to me, but Sherilyn had two other children. They needed her. I would be a sponge, pull the pain into me, hold it for her. It didn’t matter if I broke doing it. Cheyenne and Jackson needed a mother. No one depended on me.

  Sherilyn sobbed and her knees buckled, causing her to lean on me to keep from falling. I didn’t say anything and erected walls of brick and concrete to hold back my emotions. I wouldn’t allow my mind to picture Kaycee. I concentrated on keeping my arms around Sherilyn, soaking up her tears.

  Mom only suffered that scene for so long. She bustled to the front door and took hold of Sherilyn’s bicep, pulling us apart with a soft touch. She used the same gentleness with me, as if either of us might dissolve in the harsh world. “What’s going on?”

  Sherilyn didn’t acknowledge Mom. Her attention focused on me. She wiped at her eyes and shook her head. “I told Mrs. Dempsey I’d only be a second. I need to get back to my kids.”

  I placed a hand on Sherilyn’s back. “I’m sure she’ll understand. You need to take care of yourself.”

  Mom scowled at me and cast an irritated glance at Sherilyn.

  Sherilyn’s eyes filled again. “The best thing for me is to have my family all around.”

  I patted Sherilyn’s back. “Is your mother on her way? Will family be gathering? What can we do to help?”

  Sherilyn’s tears spilled over and she gave me a watery smile. “You’ve already helped us more than we could ever repay.”

  Maybe I breathed, but all I felt was cold stone where my body should be.

  “If you hadn’t found her when you did, she’d have never made it.” Sherilyn broke down in violent sobs again. Between the blubbering, she managed to say, “She is so pale and her little leg is as big as a rhinoceros, but she’s home.”

  What was she saying? I repeated her words to myself. Pale. Swollen. She’s home. She made it.

  Like someone took a sledgehammer to me, I shattered into a million pieces. Without warning, tears spouted and my muscles turned from ice shards to living flesh. In a flash, I grabbed Sherilyn and whisked her from her feet in a hug like I’d only ever inflicted on one other person. “Thank God!”

  I set Sherilyn down and we stepped apart, laughing and crying. Both of us babbling. I understood they’d struggled all night and into the day. It was touch and go, but around noon, Kaycee finally started breathing regularly and her blood pressure returned to normal. The antivenom did its job. As soon as she was out of the woods, Donnie had to go back to work.

  Fighting happy tears, I introduced Mom and Sherilyn and briefly explained about the snake bite.

  Mom watched us with a strained smile and said, “That’s wonderful she’s recovering. I imagine you’re anxious to get back to your children. Please don’t hesitate to call if we can do anything for you.”

  Sherilyn nodded absently at Mom and turned back to me. “It’s all because of you. I wouldn’t have known what to do. You saved her.”

  Zoey’s dead.

  Cali’s dead.

  Your fault.

  “She’s going to be okay. Let’s focus on that.” I said it to the voices as much as to Sherilyn. They knew where the blame lay for Kaycee’s brush with death. One voice repeated, “Remember, remember.”

  Sherilyn grabbed my hand. “I told you Kaycee knows stuff. She knew you were going to save her. You’re meant to be part of our lives. I don’t think we’re done needing you.” She hugged me quickly and bounced away, tears gone, her impish smile back. She winked at Mom. “I don’t think she’s done needing us, either.”

  Her flip flops smacked against the pavement as she darted across the street.

  Mom closed the door and frowned. “She’s one of those neighbors who wriggle into your life and eventually get so demanding you can’t walk outside without being bombarded. If you don’t put an end to it, she’ll take advantage of you.”

  I headed back to the patio and the peace of the pool. “I don’t mind helping out.”

  “Of course not. But you’re hardly in the frame of mind to take care of someone so helpless. You need to concentrate on yourself. You can’t save the world. And your failure is what breaks you.”

  I stood still, my back to her. “I know you flew out here at the last minute and it’s a huge sacrifice with all you’ve got going on. I appreciate your care. Honestly. But you know how I need consistency. Surprises throw me.”

  This wasn’t entirely correct. Not at the same level of a year ago. But it was true enough.

  She put an arm around me. “You should probably take Seroquel and get some rest. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  I sighed with the weariness of having to explain again. “I’m trying to wean myself from the crutch of meds. If you could give me a little time alone.”

  She looked shocked. “You want me to go away?”

  “Maybe go get dinner? We can save the goulash for tomorrow.”

  She drew me closer. “Why don’t I let you relax here and I’ll go unpack and finish making dinner. Then we can have a nice chat.”

  I stepped away from her arm. “Mom.” The word came out hard. “Can yo
u just once do as I ask?”

  She lasered me with her eyes, searching for the cracks. Conflict over doing what she wanted, and indulging me pinched her lips. “Let’s sit down and eat. We’ll catch up and I’ll go to my room to read. You can have all the solitude you want.”

  I didn’t say a word as I gathered my ice water and brushed past her on the way to my room.

  The door slammed to the echo of The Three:

  Forest Hill.

  Cold and white.

  Leather straps.

  39

  I stayed in bed long past when I wanted to rise. It wasn’t as if my bedroom was my usual sanctuary. Serviceable at best, this morning it felt like a bunker away from Mom. After an interval of kitchen cabinets opening and banging closed, I heard the front door open and shut. It slammed and the combination lock beeped as it rammed home.

  I dressed in khaki shorts and t-shirt and ventured out. The note on the counter explained she needed to make another trip to the grocery store for eggs and bread and fruit. She’d scribbled a few other items, probably to let me know how short I’d fallen on self-care.

  Water splashed into the ice of my glass, glancing off the fresh lemon slice. I carried it out to the patio, where the morning sunshine danced along the pool. The last few days pushed down on me. Cali’s disappearance, Mitch suspending me, inching toward friendship only to see it crumble, the horror of Kaycee’s snake bite, and now Mom’s unexpected appearance.

  And yet, despite the increase in the voices’ volume and number, I hadn’t folded. The challenge exhausted me, but I was holding on. The static of voices—especially the sobbing Peanut and the quiet one I couldn’t place who kept admonishing me to remember—hadn’t silenced my own voice. And I sounded stronger and surer than I had since before my world had stopped turning.

  Mom would be home soon. My stomach churned, but I could handle it. The shrill of my phone cut through the morning.

  My first instinct was to ignore it. But what if it had to do with Cali? I pushed myself to stand and hurried in to answer. Kari’s number greeted me in the I.D.

 

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