The Gamble and the Grave (Veronica Barry Book 4)

by Sophia Martin

  “Doctor,” Angie said, “would that pre thing maybe make my mother lose her baby?”

  Veronica stiffened. She didn’t think talking about the vision was a good idea right now, and it looked like Angie was going there.

  “It might,” the doctor said. “There are several risks that can lead to problems, but let’s just take this one step at a time for now.”

  “Like, would she maybe have a bad pain in her stomach and then bleed?” Angie asked.

  The doctor frowned. “Did that happen?” She began flipping through the paperwork.

  “No,” Veronica interceded. “It didn’t. It happened to someone we know. A friend of the family.”

  “Oh,” Dr. Nash said, visibly relieved. “It sounds like your friend may have had one of the possible complications of preeclampsia. It’s called a placental abruption, and it’s serious.”

  “A placental abruption?” Melanie said. Veronica noticed that the edge was gone from her tone.

  The doctor gave her a nod though it was clear she didn’t want to pursue this topic. “Yes, it’s when the placenta separates from the uterine wall before it’s time for it to do that.”

  “That does sound serious,” Melanie said, meeting Veronica’s eyes.

  “As I said, it is,” Dr. Nash said, “but you’re not there yet. With some luck, it’s not something you’re going to have to worry about at all.”

  Melanie nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s get those tests run.”

  ~~~

  Veronica stayed with Melanie for three hours in the hospital’s Labor and Delivery department. She actually knew her way around fairly well, because she, Melanie and Angie had been there only a few months before when they’d taken another woman there to have her baby. Allie, the woman, gave birth a few weeks early to a healthy baby girl she named Rose. Veronica hoped that Melanie’s story would end as happily.

  Melanie lay in an adjustable bed, a belt with a monitor strapped around her. Veronica told her all about taking the job with Miguel Santiago, and when she ran out of things to say about that, she talked about running into Khalilah and the quirks of living with Daniel. Every hour that passed a nurse came and took Melanie’s blood pressure. The levels remained on the high side, though they went down from the first time. After a blood test and another urine test, they got a visit from Dr. Nash.

  “I’m pretty sure you’re working up to preeclampsia,” Dr. Nash said as she looked at Melanie’s results.

  “Working up to it?” Melanie said.

  Dr. Nash smiled at her. “Well, the good news is, your second urine test showed less protein than your first, and your blood pressure has been a bit better, too. So you’re not in a seriously risky stage at this point. You’re in your 30th week, looks like. We’d like you to keep that baby cooking for at least another six.”

  Melanie took a deep breath. “Okay. So what happens next?”

  “What happens next is called ‘modified bed rest.’”

  Melanie frowned. “Which means…?”

  “The ideal is for you to remain, as much as possible, on your left side, lying down,” Dr. Nash explained. “That’s the best way for you to optimize your blood circulation and keep your blood pressure down. Being on your back isn’t good for you, as the weight of your uterus can restrict the blood flow in your interior vena cava. You’ve also got to avoid being up and around as much as possible. You can get up for brief periods, like to go to the bathroom, take a shower, get something to eat. But then you’re back down on the couch or in bed.”

  “Wow,” Melanie said. “Bed rest. I guess this means I’m not going back into work tomorrow?”

  “You guessed right,” Dr. Nash said.

  “But I don’t feel bad,” Melanie said.

  Dr. Nash nodded. “I understand. But you have to be careful. If your blood pressure spikes you could have a seizure, and there are other risks like the placental abruption we talked about. I’ll be sending you home with an information packet, and you should definitely make an appointment with your regular OB and discuss your situation.”

  Melanie nodded, but she looked shell-shocked.

  “Think of the bright side. You can watch a lot of TV, read a lot of books, and rest up before the baby comes,” Dr. Nash said. “And you get to be waited on by the rest of your family.”

  Melanie gave Angie a weak smile. “Hear that?”

  Angie grinned back. “Yep. You’ll be eating my cooking from now on, Mom.”

  Melanie rolled her eyes. “Lucky me.”

  Angie stuck out her tongue at her mother.

  “Alright then,” Dr. Nash said. “We are done with you for today, Melanie. Make sure you get the information packet from the nurse before you leave.”

  Dr. Nash exited and Melanie turned to Veronica. “Wow,” she said. “I guess that vision of yours was for real after all.”

  Veronica nodded, holding her tongue. Of all the people in her life, including herself, Melanie had always been the only one to believe her visions without hesitation. This was the first one she ever questioned. But Veronica understood—Melanie’s doubts came from fear, and an unwillingness to believe she was truly at risk for some serious complication with the pregnancy. Just having a baby had been enough to terrify Melanie; she couldn’t deal with the possibly of something going wrong, on top of everything else.

  “Let’s get you home and onto the couch,” Veronica said.

  “I wonder if I can find an episode of Law & Order to watch,” Melanie joked.

  “Mom, if there isn’t an episode of some version of Law & Order somewhere on one of our channels, I will order us in Chinese for lunch instead of making you my famous macaroni and cheese,” Angie promised.

  “I’m doomed,” Melanie said to Veronica, who smiled.

  Chapter 4

  By the time they got to Melanie’s house it was almost two in the afternoon, and Veronica had to meet Miguel at two-thirty. She hadn’t eaten, so after slapping two slices of bread together with some peanut butter, she made sure Melanie and Angie had everything they needed. Angie promised her she’d take Harry for a walk, and Veronica hurried out.

  “Veronica, how are you today?” Miguel asked as he opened the door to his father’s house.

  “Pretty good,” Veronica said, deciding not to dwell on Melanie’s situation until she was done with this meeting with Miguel and his father. “How is your dad today?”

  Miguel shrugged. “I can’t say it’s a good day. He’s been asking about that car and Ariana all morning, like he thinks she took it and he thinks he needs it to drive somewhere. At least he knows who I am, I guess.”

  “Do you still want to take him to the cemetery?”

  Miguel nodded. “Yes. Maybe this is the best time to do it, you know? I mean, I hope so. I hope it doesn’t upset him too much. I have to try, though.”

  Veronica followed him into the living room, where Hector Santiago sat on the left hand couch, watching the large flat screen TV. He didn’t stop watching as they entered.

  “Papa, it’s Veronica Barry. Do you remember meeting her yesterday?”

  Hector turned his head and let his vague gaze drift over to Veronica. His eyebrows knit slightly. He said nothing.

  “Papa, we’re going for a drive. You need a jacket. Wait here, I’ll get it for you.”

  Veronica stood, feeling out of place, as she waited for Miguel to return. Hector turned his attention back to the program on the TV. Veronica scrunched her nose when she realized it was The Thad Bayer Show—the shock jock-turned talk show host was irritating at best. He styled himself a conservative pundit and he always had something awful to say about current events. Now he was interviewing some member of the U.S. House of Representatives that Veronica had vaguely heard of but didn’t know much about.

  She watched Hector. What was it like to be trapped in his mind? Did he know how much he had lost? He used to be a powerful man, part of the government of California, one of the most powerful states in the U.S. and even the world. D
id he personally know the representative Bayer was interviewing? Had he ever gone on shows like Bayer’s? Was that why he seemed to be so attentive to the show? Or was his mind wandering even as his eyes remained fixed on the images the screen showed?

  Miguel reappeared carrying a beige jacket. He helped his father to his feet and put the jacket on him. He’s like a child now, Veronica thought, feeling sad and uneasy. How hard it was to grow old.

  They all went in Miguel’s GTO, and Veronica kicked herself for not telling Daniel about the car, though it felt a little silly in light of the gravity of Hector’s illness and the tragedy the family was enduring. Still, wasn’t enjoying things like nice cars the way you kept going when life got bleak? She didn’t know—how would she feel if it was her aunt Cybele who had Alzheimer’s? Veronica suppressed a shudder. She really hoped that would never happen. Let Cybele grow old without complications, she prayed. Let her have it easy.

  They drove north to Rocklin. Veronica sat in the back seat of the car with Hector. Miguel hoped that she would pick up some impressions from him as they drove, but she didn’t get anything.

  Ariana was buried in the Holy Cross Catholic Cemetery. It was a wide piece of land with palm trees at regular intervals near the parking lot. The impression it gave Veronica was of order and quiet. The land, dotted with gravestones, was hilly and well-tended, with paths winding through it. They parked and exited the car, and Veronica purposefully hurried round before Miguel could get to his father’s door, so she could take Hector’s arm as she helped him out. Still no impressions. As she looked out over the gravestones, she felt her stomach do a little flip. She regretted agreeing to come along here. She’d wanted to be supportive, and she knew that since she’d spoken with Ariana’s spirit, Miguel would appreciate her being there when he took Hector to the grave. But now that she was here, she couldn’t ignore the anxiety that cemeteries provoked in her. There was a real probability that there would be ghosts here. She used to avoid places like this in order to avoid encountering them. She reminded herself that she wasn’t trying to avoid spirits anymore, but part of her wasn’t going to just accept that. It was telling her not to go amongst those graves. And one downside of being psychic is that sometimes she couldn’t tell the difference between plain old anxiety and a psychic feeling that she should pay attention to. In this case, she told herself, it was just anxiety. But an uncomfortable doubt remained.

  “We have a little way to walk,” Miguel said to Hector, looping his arm through his father’s. Veronica mimicked him with Hector’s other arm, but still she saw nothing, got no impressions, other than her uneasiness. She didn’t say anything about that, though, and ordered her nerves to settle down.

  As they walked she spotted movement once or twice. She noticed a shade by one grave, a shimmer by another. But her little group kept walking and none of the spirits, if that’s really what they were, made any motion toward her. She began to relax. Maybe nothing weird would happen. After all, a graveyard wasn’t any worse than a hospital, and she’d spent the morning in one of those without incident.

  They made their way up over one hill and around another, walking through a sparse grove of oaks and cutting through a section of graves to find the path on the other side.

  “Nearly there,” Miguel said, more to Hector than Veronica.

  Hector walked along docilely, though Veronica noted that his breathing was becoming heavier. This outing was tiring him.

  As they continued, Veronica thought she saw Miguel stiffen out of the corner of her eye. When she looked over at him, he seemed normal, however. Then, as they began walking through another section of graves, she saw that something was the matter. Miguel peered ahead like he was trying to see something. She followed his gaze. All she saw were graves. Then she noticed that there was an open one.

  Miguel let go of his father’s arm and hurried ahead. Veronica watched him in confusion, but she didn’t want to leave Hector’s side, especially since when Miguel left, Hector began to lean more heavily on Veronica. She thought of calling after Miguel, but she was afraid she might startle Hector. Instead, they made their way after Miguel, their pace slow.

  By the time they reached Miguel he was standing still in front of a small open grave, his hand clapped to his mouth. He looked very pale. The hole in the ground wasn’t long enough for a coffin. It gave Veronica the creeps.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, but even as she did, she looked at the marker at the head of the hole in the ground. On it were engraved the words, Maria Ariana Camila Santiago. It gave the year of her birth and her death, and under it, Amada hija y hermana, descansando en los brazos de Cristo.

  “This is Ariana’s grave,” Miguel said.

  ~~~

  While they waited for the cemetery caretaker to arrive on the scene, Veronica had to find a bench for Hector and keep him from leaving it. Miguel was on his cell phone, calling so many different people Veronica stopped trying to keep track—first the police, then the Parks and Rec Department at the city, and after that someone Veronica couldn’t identify. Eventually the cemetery caretaker showed up, followed by the police.

  Veronica had selected a bench that was within line of sight of Miguel and the grave but was far enough away that Hector wouldn’t hear what was being said. She was afraid of what he would do if he got upset. What if he tried to leave and that she couldn’t stop him? Hector was tired from the walk, however, and seemed content to sit quietly and look out over the cemetery while Veronica watched Miguel talk to the caretaker and the two uniformed cops. Miguel’s gestures and facial expression indicated that he did not like what he was hearing.

  Finally, he stomped over to her, leaving behind the officers as they continued talking to the caretaker.

  “So?” Veronica prompted, standing up from the bench.

  Miguel rubbed his eyes. “The caretaker guy—his name is Sam Adams and he thought it would be cute to make a beer joke when he introduced himself. Can you believe that? My sister’s body is missing and he’s making beer jokes.”

  Veronica nodded. “Yeah, not very appropriate.”

  “Anyway. He says there’s him and another guy, and the other guy would have mowed five days ago, so it must have happened since then. But I don’t know, it doesn’t sound like he knows for sure that the other guy was here. He says the budget’s been cut and they go to different cemeteries around the county every day, so how can anyone keep track of what graves are filled and which ones are about to be dug up anyway?”

  “So they took her whole coffin?” Veronica said. It was something she’d been puzzling over since they’d come upon the too-small grave.

  “No,” Miguel said. “Not exactly.” He glanced over at Hector, who hadn’t changed positions. “Ariana was cremated when they didn’t know who she was. They hold on to remains but they don’t have room to house all the bodies that go unclaimed. My mother was really upset.”

  “That they cremated her?”

  “Yes,” Miguel said. “You don’t do cremation if you’re Catholic. I mean, I guess some people aren’t worried about it, but my mother’s pretty into her faith, and you’re not supposed to cremate a body.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s considered like you’re destroying the body God made, and plus people are supposed to get their body back when the end of the world happens. If you burn the body…”

  Veronica nodded. “I see.”

  “But my mother’s priest told her it was okay as long as Ariana was buried in sanctified ground.” Miguel looked sick. “God, who would steal a box of ashes?”

  “Not an urn?”

  “Mama had this jewelry box Ariana loved…”

  “They had to go to a lot of trouble to dig it up.”

  “It’s crazy.”

  “It is crazy,” Veronica agreed. “It doesn’t make sense. Was the box particularly valuable?”

  Miguel shook his head. “We did bury a second box of keepsakes with her. You remember the red dog she told you about, that
I gave her? I put that in it. And Mama put in some pieces of Ariana’s jewelry, and there was a book… but none of that was especially valuable either. Just to us, and to Ariana.”

  “Who knew about the keepsakes?” Veronica asked.

  Miguel shrugged. “Me, my mother, the priest, and anyone who was at the funeral. Papa, too, I guess.”

  “And they’re both gone, both boxes?”

  “Yes,” Miguel said. “Wait.” He stopped and squinted. “That’s not the only people who knew. It was in the paper.”

  “What was?”

  “The article about how we found Ariana and about Papa… they mentioned the box of keepsakes, I remember.”

  “I’m guessing you kept the article?”

  “Yes,” Miguel said.

  “We should take a look at it.”

  Miguel nodded, but he didn’t move from where he stood. Veronica could tell he was hesitating over something.

  “What?” she prompted.

  Miguel sighed. “I was hoping maybe you… you might have seen her again?”

  Veronica shifted. She knew he meant today, here at the cemetery, but she also felt uncomfortable because she’d never told Miguel about her encounter with Ariana at the Fourth of July. It wasn’t relevant to the current situation, she reasoned, and Ariana hadn’t said or done anything that would make a difference to Miguel. When Ariana appeared to her, she’d warned her of a shooter in the crowd, but she’d also given Veronica an opportunity to let the shooter kill a long-time nemesis, Daniel’s former partner, Detective Lara Felsen. Veronica had chosen to prevent the murder, but it wasn’t something she wanted to start trying to explain to anyone.

  “I haven’t seen her here,” she said after a pause. “You know, she’s probably not anywhere here.”

  “You mean she’d still be in the jail?” Miguel looked stricken.

  “No,” Veronica said. “At least, I don’t think so. I think she was hanging around the jail because she needed help… she wanted someone to tell you where her remains were.”

  Miguel breathed in deeply and nodded.