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After All These Years

Page 22

by Sally John


  A grin slowly spread across his face, crinkling eyes that were incredibly green in the early morning light. “That I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  “Oh.”

  “That kind of thing could cloud my ability to reason.”

  “I see.” They stared quietly at each other. Lia cherished the moment, but knew they had to deal with other problems. “Am I a suspect?”

  “Well, technically you’re not cleared yet. We have to search the store, and even then, until we get proof you’re not illegally selling drugs, somebody like Richards won’t let it go.” He grinned again. “I’d rather it be me than him watching you closely.”

  She did too. “So now what?”

  “I need to file the report and then sleep. I’ll take you home this afternoon and help you clean up. I’m sorry. I did the best I could to keep things in order.”

  She stretched up and kissed his rough cheek. “Can I open tomorrow?”

  “No.”

  She blew out a breath. “Okay. I didn’t think so. I was supposed to pick up Chloe today at my parents’ home in Chicago, but she can stay an extra day. There’s no school tomorrow. I’ll go then.”

  “Leaving town is not a good idea.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t leave town.”

  “Cal, why don’t you just arrest me?”

  “Because my China Doll is not going to jail.”

  It cut through the frustration and exhaustion. She laughed.

  “I’ll take you to Chicago, hon.”

  “I can’t ask you—”

  “You didn’t. I offered.”

  She didn’t know what to say.

  He shrugged a shoulder, a small smile lifting one side of his mouth.

  The doorbell rang. From where they sat, the front door was visible across the living room.

  Isabel called out, “I’ll get it.”

  “Lia.” Cal squeezed her hands again, his forehead creased. “We’ll figure this out, and then there will be time to figure out…us. That is, if you think there’s something to figure out?”

  “About us? Oh, most definitely, Deputy.”

  As Isabel approached the front door, Cal let go of her hands and pushed himself to a standing position, kissing her temple on the way up.

  Isabel opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

  Tony stepped inside, wearing a grin, navy blazer, sweater, and slacks. “Picking you up for church. Hey, what’s going on? You’re in sweats. Cal’s in uniform. And Lia’s in pj’s?! How come you three Christians aren’t ready to go?”

  Tony wanted to straighten his tie, but he wasn’t wearing one. Instead he smoothed his navy blue blazer, threw back his shoulders, and surveyed the unoccupied room.

  Reverend Peter Eaton’s office overwhelmed him. Most of the four walls were covered in floor-to-ceiling shelves chock-full of books. The sanctuary’s muted greens and oak accents carried over into here. Two overstuffed chairs and a coffee table filled one corner. Two padded, straight back chairs faced an enormous desk, upon which were the requisite family photos, pen holder, paper weight, and computer. His feet sank into plush carpet. The view through two narrow windows revealed shrubbery and a sliver of the Valley Café’s back door across the street.

  He was familiar with such bookshelves and desks and carpet. No, it wasn’t that which overwhelmed him. It was something else, something intangible. The air was thick with it.

  Tony had gone alone to church, his three new friends too discombobulated to join him. No wonder, after the night they’d been through. Izzy made him promise to tell the pastor’s wife what had happened at the pharmacy.

  Which was why he was standing here at this moment. When he found Celeste Eaton in the lobby after the service and explained the situation, her sparkling eyes and freckled, elfin face had gone lifeless. She had grasped his elbow, steered him down the hall, and ushered him into the office ten minutes ago, assuring him she would return soon with her husband. She wanted him to hear this.

  He studied the book spines now, searching in vain for a familiar title. At the sound of knuckles rapping, he turned. The door opened and Reverend Eaton entered his office.

  “Tony Ward. Nice to meet you again.” The pastor shook his hand and pointed to an armchair. “Have a seat. Celeste has gotten waylaid.” He settled into the other armchair.

  Peter Eaton did not resemble Tony’s image of a pastor. He wasn’t sweet-faced, nor was he over 60. He wasn’t even over 50. His unruly red hair, barrel chest, and craggy face suggested Ireland.

  Tony met the pale blue eyes and said, “South-side Chicago. Your dad was a cop.”

  The man burst into deep, rich tones of laughter that must have carried throughout the building. He wiped at his eyes. “Bingo!” He leaned forward. “But ‘twas me grandfather, on me wee mother’s side, who was the cop.”

  Tony grinned.

  “And you’re a reporter,” the brogue was gone, “for the Tribune.”

  “You had help, Reverend.”

  “Ah, I could have figured it out without my wife clueing me in. And we’re Celeste and Peter, by the way. Sorry to keep you waiting. Please, tell me what happened.”

  Tony relayed the events of the night before as he knew them. There were drugs missing and the pharmacy wouldn’t open Monday morning. It was a mystery how anyone had entered the store without being detected, which seemed to place Lia in a dubious position.

  Elbow propped on the chair arm, Peter held his chin, his wide face creasing. His eyes focused some place Tony couldn’t see. After long, silent moments, he put his arm down. “Thanks, Tony. We’ll get started right away.”

  “Started?”

  “On praying. We have a telephone prayer chain. Quite a few people will know by this afternoon. You didn’t tell me anything classified, did you?”

  “N-no.”

  “You look doubtful.”

  “Prayer? I mean, what’s God got to do with this?”

  “Lia needs His strength and comfort. Cal needs His wisdom. The perpetrators need His justice and forgiveness. The town needs the pharmacy. And the drug addicts need healing.”

  That sense of being overwhelmed settled on him again, and he heard himself speaking unintentional words. “My sister was a drug addict. Becoming a Christian got her killed.”

  “Oh, Tony, I’m so sorry. What a dreadful heartbreak for you and your family.” He paused and again his eyes momentarily focused elsewhere. “Please, tell me what happened.”

  “She followed a Christian rock band down to Colombia—”

  “What was her name?”

  “Joanna Ward.”

  “Joanna Ward was your sister?” His jaw dropped. “Martyred about two years ago with five other young people? Weckel, Ruud, Piccurelli, Miller, Helms…and Ward.”

  “You know about it?”

  “Tony!” His brows shot up. “Everyone interested in Latin American missions knows about it! Men from the guerilla group responsible for their deaths have actually stopped working for the coca growers. They’ve relocated their families and are struggling, but they’re Christians. They meet as a church. God answered your sister’s prayers.”

  Tony felt as if a noose dropped down around his neck and twisted. “And that’s why she died? So a bunch of illiterate natives can get together and sing on Sundays?”

  Peter gazed at him.

  “Look, I’m sorry if I’m being rude here, but that’s hogwash.” His breath came in short puffs.

  “Tony, there’s no way you can begin to comprehend unless you know Jesus.”

  “Well, what I know of Jesus—” Izzy burst onto his mental screen. Izzy’s softness, vulnerability, laughter, forgiving attitude, arms wrapped around him… “What I know is insane.”

  “Or supernaturally real.”

  “I’ve taken up too much of your time.” Tony stood. He really was suffocating now. His legs felt the lack of oxygen. It was as if thick tree trunks replaced them. He plodded to the door. “Excuse me. Please.�


  Thirty-Two

  “Great chili, Izzy.” Tony stacked the four bowls on Lia’s kitchen table and carried them to the sink.

  “Thanks.” So why did you hardly eat any? She didn’t budge from her chair at the table, wondering for the umpteenth time today where she stood with Tony, where she wanted to stand with him. Not sure how to get answers, she only discerned that it was not yet the time to voice her questions. Trouble was, it hadn’t been the appropriate time all day and it was getting late. He was leaving tomorrow and couldn’t easily return. His apartment lease expired in a few days.

  Cal and Lia were in the living room behind her. After Tony returned from solo church attendance, the four of them had spent much of the afternoon and evening at Lia’s apartment. She and Tony helped replace the things Cal and Benny’s search had left in disarray. Although Cal had warned them, she hadn’t been prepared for the mess they encountered. When they arrived and saw the contents of cupboards spread about the kitchen, Lia had gone strangely quiet while Isabel went ballistic. Cal unobtrusively touched the back of Lia’s head and whispered in her ear.

  Tony’s demeanor didn’t change at that point. He had been subdued when he came to her house after church, and for the most part he had remained subdued all day. But she wasn’t about to ask him why. She knew why.

  She figured he wanted to discuss her confession from last week’s youth group meeting. But he would choose a private time, not in the company of Lia and Cal. He probably didn’t know what to make of her story. Still, you’d think he could communicate something. A simple, “Can we talk later?” A wink and, “That was quite a revelation.” A quick, “Sorry I haven’t had a chance all week to call.”

  She watched Tony rinse the dishes. She felt physically stretched to the limit, unable to offer any more assistance on any level. Lack of sleep, dinner preparations, cleaning Lia’s apartment and then the store downstairs after Cal searched that area had all but drained her. On top of that, she didn’t know what she wanted or expected from Tony. Her emotions jumped from ecstatic to apprehensive to angry. She sat quietly, reserving just enough energy to convince Lia that she was coming home with her.

  “Izzy.” Tony threw a dishtowel at her and winked. “How about some help? Leave the lovebirds alone.”

  She joined him at the sink. “What makes you think they’re lovebirds?”

  He stared at her from the corner of his eye. “Pretend you’re Tammy and take a gander.”

  Isabel peeked over her shoulder as she dried a handful of spoons. The television was on now, newscasters’ voices coming from it. Cal’s arm was across the back of the couch. Lia’s legs were tucked beneath her, and she leaned against him, her head resting on his chest. “She’s a crime victim.”

  “Mm-hmm.” He turned toward her, touching his forehead to hers, and whispered, “Tell me, if you were a crime victim, would he sit like that with you?”

  Isabel winced.

  He handed her a wet bowl. “I didn’t think so. But I would.” He plunged his hands back into the sudsy water.

  “Oh, really?” She lowered her voice, “And would that make us lovebirds?”

  “Good question. What do you think?”

  “Hey, you’re the one who started this!”

  “Okay. Well, I think we’d be pretty close to it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You mean, if I got robbed, you’d be my boyfriend?”

  He grinned and playfully shoved his shoulder against hers. “That’s nonsense. I think you’re as exhausted as I feel. Can we go now? You can come back in the morning and finish these up.”

  “Tony, it’s only four plates and that grilling pan.” He had made his famous toasted-cheese-and-tomato sandwiches. “We’ll take my chili pot home, though. I’ll let it soak overnight.”

  “Hey, you two,” Lia called out. “Stop doing the dishes. Go home.”

  Isabel shook her head. “Not without you, sister.”

  The lovebirds left their perch on the couch and walked across the room. Cal said, “I’m going to stay with her.”

  Isabel felt her eyebrows go up and her eyes widen. Stay out of it, girl.

  Cal continued, “I want to get down to the basement and finish this search so Lia can open on Tuesday. But I don’t want anyone to know I’m here.” He threw Isabel a stern look.

  She held her palms up in surrender. No way was she going to question his motives tonight.

  Tony nodded. “You’re going to bait the bad guys.”

  “I hope so. Tony, would you do me a favor and drive my truck home, go in the house, and turn on a light? Make it look like I’m there?”

  “No problem, but size-wise, I can’t pass for you.”

  “It’s dark. If my suspicions are correct, they’re not watching that closely. As long as my truck and Isabel’s car are gone, that’ll be enough for them to assume Lia’s either alone or not here.”

  Isabel said, “But I thought they took all the drugs.”

  “No. I think you ladies interrupted them last night. If they knew about the Oxy-Contin, there are others in the same category they didn’t grab. They’ll be back soon.”

  “But why does Lia have to stay?”

  “Nosy Mendozy.”

  “Cal!”

  Tony nudged Isabel. “Someone is framing Lia. If she leaves with us and returns to find the drugs gone again, we’re witnesses to her innocence. Wouldn’t work.”

  Isabel was horrified. “Why would someone want to frame her?”

  Lia answered, “They hate me because I’m different.”

  Cal shook his head. “No, if that were true, it would just be kids vandalizing the store or your car. It runs deeper. Someone wants you discredited.”

  Isabel sat in her dark kitchen, waiting for Tony to come to the back door with Cal’s keys. After dropping them off with her, he was going to walk down the block to his apartment.

  All this cloak-and-dagger stuff had frayed her nerves almost beyond endurance. She was the first to leave Lia’s. Cal promised he’d watch her walk across the dark alley and get into her car, but the thought of other eyes noting her movements unsettled her. He had said that someone must have followed them last night to the Pizza Parlor and then signaled the thief when Lia and Isabel left the restaurant.

  Driving quickly across town, she parked on her street and raced into her house, immediately shutting the door and locking it. She had never felt frightened before in Valley Oaks!

  Tony was to have made his exit a few minutes after she did, wearing Cal’s coat to add some bulk to his slender body. He needed to reattach the yellow crime tape across Lia’s door, then drive the truck home. That left the parking lot and alley empty except for Lia’s car.

  Isabel berated herself. Lia should not have stayed there, even with Cal! It didn’t matter what their silly theories were. She should be here, safe inside Isabel’s home.

  There was a knock on her porch door. Isabel went to let Tony inside. Silently they walked through the porch and into the kitchen. Only a dim light shone from the living room.

  Tony set the keys on the counter beside the sink, brushing her shoulder. “Izzy, you’re shaking. Are you okay?”

  “I…I…” She gave up the attempt to say she was fine. She wasn’t fine. “No.”

  He hugged her tightly for a long while.

  It wasn’t the comfort she wanted. His nearness only intensified the battle. She loved him, but not just in the way she had been trying to convince herself, as a friend. He was the music and the radiant sunlight she had stopped missing. Until now.

  “Izzy.” He spoke into her hair. “I have to go home tomorrow.”

  And when he left, the void would come, silent and grey.

  “I don’t know when I’ll be back.” He kissed her then, almost desperately, almost as if he too craved the fading music and light.

  After a time he whispered, “My, my, Izzy Mendoza. I had no idea Christians kissed that way.”

  She pushed herself back, keeping him at arm’s l
ength, her breathing ragged. “Wrong thing to say, mister!”

  “Hey, I’m only teasing.”

  “Well, stop with the Christian put-downs!” Her voice rose. “We’re not some subhuman species to be mocked whenever you feel like it!”

  “Oh, you’re a different species, all right.” His chuckle was derisive. He dropped his arms and stepped away from her. “Human, but definitely not of this world.”

  “You’re right. You and I are from two different worlds, and we will never ever see eye to eye. We don’t even have the first thing in common! I don’t even know why you’re here again!”

  “How else am I supposed to process this information?”

  “Like you always do! With your own sharp mind, with absolutely no hint of the hand of God working through it all.”

  “You knew? All along?”

  “Of course I knew! Who else could be the father? There was never any other possibility.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “The baby! What else would I be talking about?”

  “My sister!”

  “What about your sister?”

  “Eaton told me the people who killed her are Christians now, and instead of toting machine guns, they go to church. And that’s supposed to make me happy!”

  She let the surprising words register and then lowered her voice. “Oh, Tony. I didn’t know.”

  Only the sound of their breathing broke the stillness. His eyes were hidden in the shadows, but she sensed their confusion.

  “Izzy, what do you mean by who else could be the father?”

  He hadn’t caught on. All day long she had been misreading him. “Wh-what I told the girls last Sunday night. I thought you would figure out I was talking about you. I was pregnant when you graduated. I wasn’t sure until—”

  “I was going to be a father and you never told me? Well, that really takes the cake. And I thought you were the one honest friend I had.”

  As the door slammed behind him, Isabel flinched.

  Thirty-Three

  Cal leaned against the refrigerator, arms folded, watching her clean up. He avoided the kitchen window. “Lia, pretend I’m not here.”

 

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