The Gamble and the Grave (Veronica Barry Book 4)
Page 2
By the end of dinner there had been no such promise, despite all the wheedling Jake had done, backed first by Veronica and then by everyone else once Veronica and Jake filled them in.
“If you ignore one of Ronnie’s warnings,” Daniel said, “I guarantee you’ll regret it.”
Angie even told Darnell all about the time she’d been lost at the river and Veronica found her. Of course he knew a bit about it, and the later events involving her abduction, although the case had never gone to trial since her abductor was killed. Daniel, the one who shot the kidnapper, shifted uneasily in his seat as Angie and Melanie talked about the experience. He’d never really gotten over having to kill the young man who kidnapped Angie, even though he hadn’t been indicted for it.
As Melanie waved to Darnell and Jake when they left, Veronica sighed and let herself drop into Melanie’s soft couch once again. Daniel smirked at her.
“And you were afraid you wouldn’t see anything.”
“I didn’t see what they were hoping I’d see.”
“Yes, you did,” Angie disagreed. “You gave them hope. You saw Jake with that little boy.”
Veronica covered her eyes with her hands. “Please make Darnell go to a cardiologist,” she said, her words muffled.
“Darnell can be really stubborn,” Melanie said, and Veronica brought her hands down to look at her friend. Melanie seemed pale.
“Have a seat, Mel. We’ll clean up,” Veronica said.
“It’s okay,” Melanie said.
“I wasn’t giving you choice,” Veronica said, hauling herself out of the couch. She grabbed Daniel’s hand and pulled him behind her to the kitchen. “Angie, make your mother put her feet up.”
“You heard her,” Veronica heard Angie say behind her.
Melanie made a frustrated noise, but Veronica heard the couch puff as she sat. Daniel began stacking the plates as Veronica collected the glasses.
“Why anyone would ignore you when you tell them they should see a cardiologist…” Daniel said.
“And they’re the ones who wanted to see you about getting a vision in the first place,” Angie said as she entered the dining room. “He can’t claim he doesn’t believe you now.”
“I think he can,” Veronica called from the kitchen as she began putting the glasses in the dishwasher.
“You were even a witness in that case with the woman and her uncle, the man that hurt Daniel?” Angie said, bringing in the plates Daniel had stacked.
“We didn’t say anything about my visions on the stand,” Veronica said.
“Maybe not, but I remember Mom talking about that case and he knew you’d had visions, right?”
“Yes,” Veronica said.
“So he can’t all of a sudden deny that you have visions and that they’re real,” Angie said with solemn finality.
“It’s not always that simple, Ange,” Veronica said. “I mean, I agree, it should be. But it’s different for someone when it’s not about them. When it becomes about them, it’s a lot harder to accept.”
“That’s stupid,” Angie declared as she loaded the plates into the dishwasher. “He knows you’re the real thing, you’ve told him he’s like, about to die, and he’s not going to go to the doctor? Come on.”
“Ronnie’s right,” Daniel said. “It’s got to be really scary, hearing that something bad’s going to happen to you. When you hear it from someone who’s telling you they had a vision about it, it’s easier to dismiss.”
Angie pondered this. “You know, right before Mom found out she was pregnant, Veronica told me that I was the one who was pregnant. And that I was going to be in trouble when I was like, big pregnant, like Mom is now. But I believed her. And Mom believes her. She’s been telling the doctor to take extra tests and stuff since the beginning.”
Daniel nodded. “You Dukas women are uncommonly wise. And brave,” he said.
That satisfied Angie. She smiled, scrunched her nose at him in a playful expression, and flounced back into the dining room to finish clearing the table.
“Impressive, Detective Seong,” Veronica said to him.
Daniel chuckled. “I speak only the truth.”
Chapter 2
At first, when Miguel Santiago introduced himself on the phone, Veronica couldn’t place him. Then the events of that year’s Fourth of July came rushing back to her, as did the vision she’d had there of Ariana Santiago’s ghost. Veronica hadn’t told Miguel she’d seen his sister again after the first time. How could she? She hadn’t run into Miguel at all after tracking him down to give him Ariana’s message.
Veronica had encountered Ariana when she waited in a holding cell after Daniel’s ex-partner had her arrested. Ariana had died there and her unidentified body remained unclaimed for almost two years, until Veronica came along. Ariana appeared to Veronica and sent her to find Miguel. In gratitude for Veronica’s help, Ariana had helped her at the Fourth of July celebration, reappearing one last time to warn her of a shooter in the crowd. But Veronica hadn’t seen Miguel since then, and it was mid-December. Between starting her job back up as a part-time high school French teacher and the adjustment of moving in with Daniel, she hadn’t given Ariana much thought at all.
The house phone rang the morning after Melanie’s dinner. When Veronica picked it up in the kitchen of the two-bedroom she now shared with Daniel, it took her more than a few seconds to understand who was calling her.
“This is Miguel Santiago. Is this Veronica Barry?”
It was weird being able to pick up the phone without worrying about bill collectors. Daniel had insisted on paying off her medical bills from when she’d broken her arm almost a year before. She’d also had a couple of old credit cards in collections she was ignoring, as well. It had been embarrassing for Daniel to find out about those, and even worse when he’d insisted on paying them off, but it was a relief to be able to pick up the phone without a second thought again. Still, when she heard the unfamiliar voice on the line say her name, she tensed.
“Um, yes,” she murmured.
“Miss Barry, I don’t know if you remember me. You came to my art studio?”
Veronica frowned, truly confused. She hadn’t visited an art studio in at least a year. After everything that happened last February, and mainly because she’d learned the truth about her parents, she’d stopped painting more or less altogether. Sometimes the loss of it was like the grief of losing a friend, and she mostly coped by avoiding art altogether. How could she possibly have met this man in his art studio?
“Uh…” she answered.
“It was concerning my sister, Ariana,” Miguel said.
And that’s when it all fell into place.
“Oh, of course,” Veronica breathed. The art studio came back to her, with Miguel’s paintings, full of color and movement. She could see him sitting on a stool, hunched with the sorrow of learning his sister was dead. The memory was so vivid, and so unexpected, it took her breath away.
“Look, I’m calling… well, I know you said you aren’t a professional medium, but I was hoping…” his voice trailed off. “It’s complicated. Is there any way I could hire you?”
First Darnell and Jake, now this. Had someone hung out a shingle for her when she wasn’t looking?
“Uh, I don’t know,” she said. “It’s just that… I’m not really sure I can always, um… well, always deliver, you know? I don’t think I could charge money for my services. I might not be able to help you and then… well, I do have a job and if I accepted your offer I’d have to take time away from that, and I just can’t guarantee…”
“Miss Barry, would you please at least meet with me? I could explain everything and maybe you’d have a better sense for whether you could help me.”
Veronica pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. She knew if she met with him she’d never be able to say no. She wondered if he knew it, too. “Why not just explain everything now?” she said.
There was a pause and Veronica released her finge
rs. At that moment Binky, her seal-point Birman cat, wandered into the kitchen, took one look at Veronica, and let out one of his best I’m-starving-to-death-right-here-and-now yowls.
“Uh, what was that?” Miguel asked.
“Nothing. My cat,” Veronica said, giving Binky her best I’m-not-buying-it looks. Binky pretended not to notice, focusing his energies instead on rubbing between her legs and yowling again.
“Listen, I would tell you about it now, but honestly, it concerns personal matters that I just don’t feel right talking about on the phone. I know it’s weird, it’s just…” Miguel sighed. “I need to see how you react, I suppose. It’s all very difficult.”
Blossom, her white long-hair, appeared in the doorway. With the two cats ganging up on her, she knew she wouldn’t be able to really focus on what Miguel was saying anyway. And her dog, Harry, was waiting for a walk, too. She had to accept it. Meeting Miguel was the only option, unless she wanted to refuse him outright. And she didn’t feel good about doing that.
“Fine. Is it very private? Do you want me to come to your studio again?”
“We could get coffee,” Miguel said. “It would be more comfortable, and I’m not all that concerned if strangers overhear something.”
“Alright then. Do you know Penny Coffee?”
“Downtown?”
“Yes, a few blocks from the mall.”
“I know it.”
“Do you have time later today?” Veronica asked. It was Saturday, and she had some grading to do before Monday rolled around. Actually, taking her grading to the coffee shop sounded like a good idea.
“How does three sound?”
“Fine,” Veronica said. “See you there.”
~~~
Veronica walked Harry, her Australian shepherd, down the cracked sidewalk of 25th Street. She wished—not for the first time—that she and Daniel had found a house closer to her old duplex, so she could still take Harry to McKinley Park without having to drive there. Sutter’s Fort Historic Park was only a couple of blocks away, but no dogs where allowed. Instead, Veronica and Harry either had to take a very long walk from P street to to H street and over from 25th to 30th, to finally reach McKinley, or they took Veronica’s little Civic and hoped to find a parking spot. And if she was going to take Harry somewhere in the car, the least she could do was drive to the dog park south of Midtown, where they had a pond he could swim in. Better yet, she could take him all the way up to Folsom Lake, which was pretty much puppy-dog Disneyland, as far as Harry was concerned.
Veronica couldn’t tell if Harry really missed McKinley or not. The Aussie shepherd was always thrilled to go for a walk, even if it was just around the block. But she missed it, even the rose garden, which was tainted with her memories of the murder she’d failed to stop back in February.
The house she and Daniel had found was very nice: yellow clapboard with white trim, a little porch in front and a yard in back three times the size of the one Harry used to have to spend the day in back when she lived by the train tracks. The drive to her job at Eleanor Roosevelt High was only five minutes longer than before, and she was five minutes closer to Penny Coffee. Still, she missed being so close to the park, and the library.
Thinking of Penny Coffee reminded her of the upcoming meeting. It made her nervous. She sighed and purposefully set her mind on her teaching, instead. When she went to the coffee shop she’d start tackling the three stacks of quizzes and dialogues for French Two. And if she wanted to really be a good teacher she’d rework her lesson for second period. That lesson always flopped, every year, and she knew she needed to revisit it. But it was hard to find the time, even as a part-time teacher. She didn’t know how full-time teachers managed.
Harry stopped and began snuffing around the base of a tree in someone’s yard. Veronica contemplated his soft black ears as he did. She had to find a way to lighten the load today. She pulled out her cell and hit the “2” speed-dial. After a couple of rings, Melanie picked up.
“Hey, V,” she said.
“Hey,” Veronica said. “How are you this morning?”
“I’m a whale, like I have been for the last month. When did they say my due date was?”
“February 26th.”
“They have got to be off by like, two months. I can’t take this. I feel so huge.”
“Mellie, from what I’ve heard, most pregnant ladies don’t really start feeling so bad until the last month.”
“My point exactly. That date just can’t be right.”
“Unless you’re having twins, I guess.”
“I am not having twins, Veronica Barry. Bite your tongue!”
“Well, it’s not like they’d have missed it if you were.”
“You never know,” Melanie said with a groan. “I feel like he’s twins. He keeps doing these karate routines from one a.m. until five. He’s killing me. You hear that, Junior? You’re killing your mother.”
“Still calling him Junior, huh?” Veronica laughed. Harry looked up at her quizzically and then began trotting down the sidewalk again.
“Just for now. I’ve narrowed the list of possible names to about two dozen.”
“Hey, that is progress.”
“It doesn’t help that Angie and I have such different taste in names. You want to hear her latest?”
“Lay it on me.”
“Peeta.”
“Peter?”
“No, no. Not Pet-er, Peeta. Like pita bread. Only, spelled with two Es. I mean, where does she get these ideas?”
Veronica nodded. “I think I know that one. It’s a character in a book. You know, The Hunger Games?”
“Are these games supposed to make people so hungry they name their kids after health food?”
Veronica laughed. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, anyway, I don’t think we’re going with Peeta. But you never know, at this point.”
“His nickname would be Peet.”
“Spelled with two Es. It would be like the coffee! Pita bread and coffee. Poor kid!”
“Hey, speaking of coffee, I was wondering if you wanted to meet for lunch at Penny’s?”
Melanie made an unhappy noise. “I’m sorry, hon. I’m just wiped, and I don’t want to push myself today. I was planning on perfecting my thumb twist with the remote—you know, I can switch from the guide to the Food Network and then back to HBO in less than ten seconds. I’m working on making that five.”
“You’re an athlete in training.”
“I knew you’d understand.”
“Okay, Ms. Champion Remoter. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Enjoy the potato bisque at Penny’s.”
“I’ll think of you the whole time.”
Veronica hung up and sighed as she and Harry turned the corner to head down R street. The trolley tracks ran through the street here and she hoped they’d make it to twenty-seventh before a trolley came. The trolleys always made Harry nervous.
Harry wasn’t concerned for now, and he continued to trot along, stopping to sniff tires and give a panting smile to people walking the opposite way. Veronica would nod at them as they complimented Harry for being such a nice dog, so cute, so sweet. Sometimes she’d stop as someone crouched to pet him. It was comforting to see Harry so friendly with people. Like all of her pets, he was a rescue, and there had been a time when Harry considered unfamiliar people very scary. But now he seemed to think everyone was a potential friend. He’d come a long way.
So had she, she realized. Before last February she’d been afraid of her gift. In fact, she’d been in deep denial about it. And maybe as a result, it would pop up out of nowhere and take her by surprise. Going out in public had always been a little nerve-racking, as a result. She’d never been a recluse by any means, but she’d also gone through three years without dating anyone seriously. Without going to bed with anyone at all, in fact. And now look at her: living with Daniel Seong. Meeting people who wanted her to use her gift to help them.
Thinking
about that made her stomach drop like she’d taken a dip on a rollercoaster, and she sucked air into her lungs as if it would restore her sense of balance. What was Miguel hoping she could do? Contact Ariana again? She didn’t know for sure how it worked, but it seemed like most spirits moved on after death. Where they went, she didn’t know. But only a few hung around, usually because they had something they needed to see done. Once she helped them, they almost always disappeared for good. She hadn’t seen Ariana since the Fourth of July, and Veronica suspected she had moved on. Helping Miguel probably wouldn’t be possible at all.
With another deep breath, she tugged on Harry’s leash a bit to encourage him to hurry to the end of the block. She had to get her mind off of Miguel, or she’d waste all her time at Penny’s before their meeting worrying about him instead of grading quizzes.
She pulled out her phone again and scrolled through her contacts, finally dialing Sunny’s number.
“Ronnie! Long time no chat,” Sunny said by way of greeting. Sunny was Daniel’s cousin, and since he’d introduced Veronica as Ronnie, the nickname he’d given her, Sunny called her that, too.
“I know,” Veronica agreed. “In fact, I’m calling cause I thought maybe we could catch up today, if you have time. You want to get lunch at Penny’s?”
“Aw, sorry. No can do,” Sunny said, her voice sounding genuinely disappointed. “I’ve got work. I’m booked until Thursday, cause there’s another bartender out for some family thing, a wedding, I think. But then I should have all of next weekend off. We should make plans. We could do a movie marathon.”
Veronica grinned. “I’d love that.”
“Okay, think about what the theme should be. I have a couple of recipes in the cookbook I haven’t tried.”
Sunny loved to cook and she especially enjoyed trying old fifties recipes out of a vintage Betty Crocker cookbook she owned.