Lost in the Light

by Mary Castillo

  Dori frowned at him to go away.

  "Don't give me that look," he said as Gavin went on about how to use the scraper.

  Turning to Gavin, Dori cleared her throat. "We have to get rid of those bookcases," she said.

  Gavin eyed the bookcases that flanked the fireplace and then back at her. "You sure you want to do that?"

  "You do, trust me," Vicente answered behind her.

  "Yeah, why not?" she asked as if she weren't having two conversations at once.

  "I'll bet money that whoever put in those bookcases cut into the chair railing and then you'll have these two blank cut outs next to the fire place," Gavin said.

  "I want to take them out," she said remembering to add a smile at the end of her sentence.

  Gavin narrowed his eyes. "You're gonna have to cover your hair and close off the rooms so you don't get dust everywhere."

  "Thanks, Gavin."

  He did a double take, suspicious of the sweetness in her voice. "You're sure?"

  She nodded.

  "I'll be right back."

  When he was gone, Dori turned to Vicente about to tell him to beat it.

  "You like him don't you," he teased.

  Taking her chances that Gavin would walk in and find her talking to the wind that blew in through the open door, Dori's curiosity got the better of her. "Is there something behind those book cases?"

  Vicente lifted one shoulder. "Like what?"

  She looked down at the place where she'd found him that night. "Evidence of your demise."

  "Doubt it. I just don't like them."

  Before she could reply, Gavin returned with one of his guys.

  "Last chance," he said.

  She did a double take at the young, cute guy beside Gavin. Maybe Grammy had been onto something about making men out of boys. "I'm committed," she said.

  "We'll take this out in a couple of minutes," Gavin said, watching her watching his worker who now rolled out a drop cloth.

  "What do I do," she asked, hoping to look innocent.

  "We don't want to damage the walls or the paneling behind the bookcases," Gavin said, sliding a shiv between the wall and the bookcase and then tapping it down with a hammer.

  "Just let him do it," Vicente said right in her ear, and she jumped.

  "You okay?" Gavin asked.

  "Fly in my ear." She swatted the air around her head.

  Gavin's eyes searched the room for the make-believe fly, and then he jerked his chin at his helper to start working.

  Dori clasped her hands behind her back, seething with the same frustration she'd felt as a girl when the boys decided they could do it better and faster. She considered pouring herself another coffee as they hammered and tugged and then stood back staring at the bookcase that refused to budge.

  "You know, they should just take a sledgehammer to the thing," Vicente said, standing by the younger one.

  Dori eyed the sledgehammer they'd laid on the floor. The men were shaking their heads at the bookcase as if standing there would finish the job.

  She sighed as she picked up the sledgehammer and carried it to the other bookcase.

  They were too busy talking as she pulled the goggles over her eyes and the mask over her nose and mouth. She lifted the sledgehammer over her shoulder, careful not to pull her side. Her muscles stretched without pain. Dori focused on the bookcase and brought the sledgehammer down. A spectacular crash of broken wood exploded in the room.

  A smile broke out on her face as she took in the bashed in bookcase. She looked over at Gavin who stood there with the same expression on his face as his helper and Vicente.

  With a powerful yank, she freed the sledgehammer and tore out of a piece of the bookshelf. Kicking it aside, she planted her feet and readied herself for the next blow.

  Five minutes later, the bookcase was a pile of rubble. Only the back remained attached to the wall.

  Gavin's helper blew out a whistle. "Guess you don't need us." He held up his hand for her to give him a high-five.

  Dori did.

  "Okay thanks, man" Gavin said, grabbing his shoulder and patting his back. "Why don't you head back downstairs?"

  The kid gave Dori a wink and then walked down the hallway to the basement door. She waited for Gavin to acknowledge her work. Instead, he kicked away some of the mess so he could run his hand over the wall.

  "Well they didn't cut away the woodwork, but they scarred it up pretty good," he said as if assessing a patient. "We'll need a really good wood guy to replicate the panels."

  She glared at Vicente, imagining how much this was going to cost her.

  "It already looks much better," Vicente said and was gone.

  "Check this out," Gavin said, holding up a fire truck toy in the palm of his hand.

  Awe fluttered between Dori's ribs as she traced the number painted on the tiny door. Some little boy in the past had lost it. He'd probably searched everywhere for it; his mom scolding him for not putting it away.

  "Take it," Gavin said. "It's yours."

  "Are you sure? Finders keepers."

  He looked her straight in the eye. "My daughter's too old to play with toys and besides, you did the work."

  The word daughter went through her like she stuck her finger in socket. Did Meg know? How old was his daughter? Would she like Meg? Was he divorced or had he not married the mom?

  Dori played it cool as she held out her hand. He tilted his so the truck fell into hers. Their hands touched for a moment.

  "What? No questions?" he teased.

  In spite of her best efforts, she couldn't hold back her grin. "Only a few."

  He stood up, looking her in the eye. "Well, you have my attention."

  "How old is she and what's her name?"

  "Isabella is six."

  Dori had packs of young cousins that age. But she'd never been a kid-friendly tía. "Oh. So she's in kindergarten."

  Gavin nodded. "She is. So let's clean this up and then get working on the next one." He patted her shoulder. "If I'd known you were this good, I would've hired you a long time ago."

  His touch lingered as he carried the sledgehammer to the other bookcase. She stood there wanting to know more about Isabella even though it was none of her business. Maybe she should tell Meg, or would that be meddlesome? She couldn't decide as she-

  "Stop it," a rough voice shot out at them.

  Dori spun around. Not Vicente. Gavin was saying something about the redwood chair rail, not having heard the voice. Her hands went jittery as she forced herself to look into the front parlor. Staring back at her was a black figure, more like a shadow without a face or eyes.

  Keeping her eyes on it, Dori said to Gavin, "We should do this another time."

  "What? Why?"

  "I uh, don't feel well and-"

  "That's okay. I can take care of this."

  It never moved or faded away. It simply watched them. "No really. You have better things to do."

  Gavin rested the head of the sledgehammer in his hand. "What's going on here, Dori?"

  "Nothing. I just don't feel right."

  "Are you that freaked out about my kid?"

  She glanced into the front parlor. The room was empty.

  "Hey boss." They turned at the sound of Oscar's voice. He pointed to the basement door, his face tense. "Freddie needs to go the hospital."

  "I'll take him." Gavin hurried over, deliberately stepping around so not to brush against her.

  "What happened?" Dori asked.

  Gavin disappeared down the stairs. Oscar turned to answer her. "It's a serious cut, but he'll be fine. Just part of the job."

  He then turned and followed Gavin into the basement. They left her alone with the breeze rippling across the drop cloth.

  She turned and stared into the gaping doorway. It had resembled Vicente in stature and shape. What the hell was that thing? Vicente had been here, appearing as he always did. She unclenched her sweaty hands, thinking of crazy Bernice and her promise that he
would go bad.

  "Miss Orihuela?"

  An involuntary sound shot out of her mouth.

  “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," Oscar said.

  Finally, Dori shook her head, her pulse kicking in her neck. "I'm good."

  She moved down the hall to shut the front door, keeping her eyes averted from the room.

  He gestured to the mess at her feet. "You need my help?"

  She shook her head, seeing his wariness through her watery eyes. "I'll clean this up."

  "It's no bother."

  She threw her hands out, keeping him from walking over. "No, no. It's my mess. I got it."

  "He's gonna be all right," Oscar said.

  It took her a moment to remember Gavin had taken his worker to the hospital. "I know. I'll call in a little while."

  "Okay." He started backing away. "I'll be downstairs if you need me."

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Dori stayed away from the house for the rest of the afternoon. She'd left a message with Gavin asking about his guy. He texted her that everything was fine and he went work on his house.

  She spent the afternoon practicing at the gun range. Her hands shook and she flinched when the casings flew at her face as the bullets ripped out of the barrel. When her rounds were spent, she'd reload and do it again until her right arm and shoulder felt like noodles. Dori rolled up her targets that smelled of gun powder. It felt a hell of a lot better than therapy.

  But the tension in her stomach returned as she walked across the parking lot, thinking about what was in the front parlor. Was it one of those guys who'd killed him? What if Vicente didn't know there was something in there, or what if it tortured him by replaying his death as she'd seen in her dream.

  Apparently, thank God, it couldn't cross the threshold.

  Dori put her gun case in the Rav-4's back compartment and then locked herself in the car. Bernice's face floated in her mind, but she shook her head to clear it. Grammy had questioned Vicente talking to her and made that comment about pain killers. The only person she might trust with this problem was Meg.

  She stuck the headphone in her ear. When Meg answered, Dori forgot the script she'd thought up so not to appear nuts.

  "Dori?" Meg asked again.

  "Yeah, it's me."

  "Where are you?"

  "I uh, went shopping and I must've, uh, butt dialed you." Dori squeezed her eyes shut for lying.

  After a long pause, Meg said, "Oh. Well it's a good thing you have a nice tush."

  "Okay then, I'll talk to you later."

  "Wait! I have something for you. It's a painting of an orchard that was done from your home."

  "No way. Really?"

  "I'll pop in after work. Would you mind if Gavin met me there?"

  Dori's eyes fluttered shut. "Sure," she heard herself reply. "That'll be great."

  Oscar's bus was gone but Grammy's car and a smart little green Fiat waited in the driveway. Dori smelled like gun powder and incense but at least she felt calmer from her visit to Botanica Mama Roots. The woman who helped her didn't bat an eye when she told her about bad energy in her old house. She'd bought a smudge stick of sage, white candles and some crystals.

  Dori took a deep breath as she reached for her bag of supplies and then got out of the car to bring in her gun case. She warily glanced up at the windows, not sure what she dreaded more: evil shadow people, or making small talk with Meg and Gavin before they left for a date.

  She smelled dinner as she walked up the steps to the kitchen door.

  "Hello?" she called out. Grammy wasn't in the kitchen. Gavin's guys had installed all of her new appliances.

  She heard a man's voice in the front parlor. Dori eyed her bag of New Age, not sure it had the same effect as proton packs and nuclear containment units. She walked into the hallway, squinting from the sunlight that angled straight through the front windows. They were in the front parlor. Her heart thudded in her chest and her throat squeezed tight.

  "Hey, there she is," Gavin said.

  Dori blinked as he and Meg walked out into the hallway. She set down her New Age bag on the floor behind her gun case. "Hi guys," she said, her face stretched tight into a smile.

  "I've been dying to show you this all day," Meg said, coming at her with arms wide open. They hugged. Over her shoulder, she met Gavin's watchful eye and then he glanced away.

  Meg looked great with her dreads let loose in their full glory. A long white scarf draped over her tight pink tank, giving coy glimpses of the purple bra underneath. Her dark jeans hugged her lean legs and she wore heeled black mini shearling boots.

  "Here. Open it."

  Dori opened the manila file in which Meg paper-clipped a copy of an 18th century water-color painting of an orchard that once stretched from her house to the edge of National City Boulevard.

  It pre-dated Vicente's death.

  "Where did you find this?"

  "It's on display at the History Museum in Balboa Park. I was, well, a bit sneaky and took a few snaps with my camera."

  "Thank you."

  Dori and Meg smiled at each other and then looked over at Gavin.

  "Your grammy let us in," Gavin said.

  "Where is she?"

  "In your office," he said. "I think she might be addicted to Facebook."

  "Gavin showed me the basement and where you ripped out the bookcase," Meg said.

  Dori grimaced at the second bookcase she'd left behind. "I still have a lot of work to do."

  "What color will you paint these walls?"

  Out of the corner of her eye, Dori saw Gavin back away from them, his hands in his pockets. "I'll check my messages and let you girls chat," he said.

  As he walked by, he looked great and smelled even better. She wondered if he'd brought Meg flowers on their first date as he had done for her. Dori heard herself say, "I don't want to keep you guys."

  Gavin looked at Meg. "You ready?"

  "Of course."

  "Ready for what?" Grammy asked, marching into the hallway from Dori's office. "Dinner's ready and there's more than enough for everyone."

  "That's so sweet of you," Meg said, hugging Grammy. "But we're running out of time."

  "What? You don't think my cooking is any good?"

  Dori didn't dare look at Gavin. "Meg and Gavin have to leave for their, uh, dinner."

  Grammy looked from Meg to Dori, her eyebrow arching up. "Oh really?"

  "Yes really," Dori said.

  "They could stay for a glass of wine," Grammy offered.

  "Another. Night," Dori insisted.

  Grammy pressed her lips together. Meg took Gavin's arm. Dori knew exactly what Grammy was thinking. Gavin was supposed to be for Dori, not Meg.

  "Ohh what is that smell?" Meg broke away from Gavin when they entered the kitchen. She peeled back the foil and peeked. "Are these tomatotello?"

  "What did you say?" Grammy asked.

  "A tomatotello," Meg persisted.

  "Mija, is that one of them English things?"

  "You mean a tomatillo?" Dori offered.

  Understanding dawned on Grammy's face and then she turned back to Meg. "Girl, you're in America. You gotta speak Spanglish right or you'll get hurt."

  Meg shook her head. "Is that how you pronounce it? Say it again."

  Grammy replied, "To-mah-tee-yo."

  "That would crack my British tongue in two."

  Dori stepped between Grammy and Meg. "You should-"

  "We should-"

  Dori and Gavin looked at each other and then quickly dropped their gazes to the floor. She could feel Grammy's stare boring into the side of her head.

  "Open the wine," she ordered Dori and then went to Meg. "Now mija, let me show you how to make the sauce."

  Grammy elucidated Meg on the finer points of enchiladas suizas; both of them ignoring Dori and Gavin.

  "I'll get the glasses, if you tell me where they are," he said.

  She cleared her throat. "They're in the cabinet above the
microwave."

  Dori poured four glasses of Malbec and considered downing hers to loosen up her knotted throat.

  "Here we go," Dori said, passing out the glasses. Her hand brushed against Gavin's hand and they both stood as far as apart from one another as they could.

  "To new friends," Meg said.

  Grammy eyed Dori and Gavin and then shook her head. "Salud."

  Gavin warily raised his glass and took a sip. Grammy sent Dori a disapproving look.

  Resting her hip against the counter, Dori told herself that she was a mature woman. She was drinking a great Malbec. Meg brought her a beautiful, thoughtful gift and her Grammy had made enchiladas suizas and the kitchen windows were slightly misted with rice-flavored steam.

  If she and Gavin didn't have this awkwardness between them, they all might have been comfortable with each other, like they did this sort of thing all the time. But once Gavin finished the project, Dori found Anna Vazquez and Meg finished her internship, everyone would drift their own separate ways and life would return to normal. She would be back by herself; eating on the run or at her desk. She finished off her wine, feeling more wilted.

  "Tell us about your work, Dori," Meg said out of the blue. Apparently she was in no hurry to go on her date. "What was the first case you ever solved?"

  Dori sensed Gavin turning and watching her as she answered. "My first call was an assault."

  "She was first in her police academy," Grammy added.

  "And so what happened?"

  "There was this woman who had been suing her husband, and he was suing her. They went back and forth, back and forth. So on the day I came into the picture, he had her served at her work. She was a barista at Starbucks and threw coffee at the process server."

  "Was it hot?" Gavin asked with a wince.

  "Scalding. So I had to taser the wife when she threatened me with the coffee pot."

  "But surely a coffee pot is harmless," Meg said, setting her glass on the counter.

  "Not in the hands of an angry soon-to-be ex-wife."

  "Couldn't you have talked her down?" Gavin asked.

  Dori paused, feeling the sting of Gavin's question. Would he have had a problem with her being an officer? She then reminded herself that he was going on a date with Meg, not her, so it didn't matter.

  "The second rule in law enforcement is to make sure you and your partner go home at the end of the shift," she said. "If I didn't get her under control she could've hurt me or my partner or someone else."