“Okay,” Veronica said, wishing there was some way she could refuse. But she could see how important this conversation was to Miguel, and how hard it would be for him to tell his mother what he’d discovered about Ariana. She considered him a friend now. She wanted to be the kind of friend who would give support even when it was hard. That meant going along—and once her piece of the conversation was over, she’d find a way to excuse herself.
~~~
“You knew?” Miguel said to his mother.
Dolores stood up from the off-white linen couch she had shared with Miguel when he’d insisted they all sit down in the Santiago living room. Veronica sat on the other couch, holding one of the olive-colored cushions in her hands like a shield. She hadn’t expected Dolores’s response to the news that Bayer had sexually assaulted Ariana any more than Miguel had, and now she was bracing herself for the fireworks that would more than likely be the result.
“Of course I knew,” Dolores said, pacing a few steps away. She crossed her arms over her chest. She was wearing a navy blue turtleneck and pale blue herringbone slacks, and Veronica thought she looked incredibly elegant, though it was clear she was devastated by Hector’s passing.
“‘Of course’?” Miguel echoed.
“She was my daughter, Miguel! I knew someone hurt her, and I kept trying to get her to tell me what happened until she finally did. Thad Bayer was one of your father’s friends. I knew she was telling the truth.”
“Wh—well—” Miguel sputtered. “Why didn’t you go to the police?”
“And put Ari through a trial and everything that would have entailed? She was traumatized enough.”
Miguel rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Well—why didn’t you ever say anything? I—I spent the last nine years of Ari’s life resenting her for being my crazy sister! I never imagined she had a good reason for all the problems she had. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Ari didn’t want me to tell anyone,” Dolores said, turning back to face her son. “And I didn’t want to burden you with that knowledge, either. You were just a kid yourself. How do you tell your child that your other child was raped?”
“I—God, I don’t know—you go to family therapy or something. God knows we could have benefitted from some therapy, Mama! Ari with the drugs and the stealing and the running away—and Papa never believed her until he died—”
“That’s not entirely true,” Dolores said.
Miguel grimaced in confusion. Dolores sat down next to him again.
“Your father did not handle it well when Ariana tried to tell him what happened, it’s true. But later—maybe after two weeks or so—he confronted Bayer.”
“They had a falling out,” Veronica murmured.
Miguel and Dolores both looked at her and she shut her mouth, wishing she’d kept it shut before.
“It’s true,” Dolores said after a pause. “Bayer was one of your father’s good friends but—well, I wasn’t there, so I don’t know exactly what was said, but Bayer denied everything, of course. But your Papa, he—on some level he knew Bayer had done it. He just couldn’t find a way to tell Ari he believed her.”
Miguel made a disgusted noise and looked away from her.
With a moment of hesitation, Dolores took Miguel’s hand in hers. “Miguel�n,” she said. “I am so sorry to have kept this from you. Secrets are no good for a family. This one has been a heavy grief to carry for so long. I am so sorry you didn’t know why Ari changed the way she did. I am so sorry you needed—you needed to understand, and—and you’re right, we all could have benefitted from therapy after what happened. Maybe if we had done that, Ari would still be with us. Maybe she never would have run away.”
Tears in Dolores’s eyes reflected those in Miguel’s as he held her gaze. “That’s not the only thing you’ve hidden from me,” he said in a low voice, pulling his hand from hers.
Veronica gave the arched doorway a longing look. Maybe she could slip out—she had no business being here now that they were moving off the topic of Ariana’s assault—in fact she should have left the moment Dolores revealed she already knew about it. She shifted in her seat.
“Veronica spoke to Papa,” Miguel said, pinning her with his dark eyes.
Dolores turned and looked at her as well.
“I was there. He told her that you hid the deed to the house,” Miguel said.
With a sigh, Dolores shook her head. “I’m sorry for that, too, Miguel�n. I haven’t made the best choices, where you’re concerned. But I didn’t want you making yourself some kind of slave to keep this house for him. He was so sick. His care was only going to get more costly. And this house is expensive to maintain. You don’t make enough with your art studio—what would you have done? Gotten some job—maybe more than one—in order to pay for a nurse for him—to watch him while you were working! And to give him the care he needed. He needed 24-hour care, Miguel�n, you know that. The kind of care he could only have really gotten in a facility.”
“I could have done it!” Miguel exclaimed pushing himself away from her. She reached for his hand again and he lurched, standing up. “He was my father, and I wanted him to spend the rest of his days in this house. He loved this house! I didn’t want him in some facility!”
Dolores swallowed, and nodded, looking down at her hands. “You got your wish, querida. He spent his last days here.”
“No thanks to you!” Miguel snapped.
Veronica really wanted to leave then, but not only was she paralyzed by the possibility of drawing any sort of attention to herself, but she noticed a shimmering by the large double French doors that led to the outside. Oh boy, she thought. I get to become an active participant in this heartbreak now. Yay.
Still, it seemed they did need to hear from Hector, and the shimmer was taking on the vague features he’d shown her in the theater again. Okay, thought Veronica. This is your chance, Hector. You get to help them heal, or you can make things worse—it all depends on what you want me to tell them now. What’ll it be?
Hector moved closer to them, and Dolores wrapped her arms around herself as if she suddenly felt cold.
I was a selfish man, Hector said.
Veronica cleared her throat. Miguel’s piercing, angry eyes darted to her, and she gave him a weak smile. “Uh, sorry,” she said. “I, uh… well, Hector is here.”
Dolores’s eyes widened and she fixed her gaze on Veronica as well.
Tell Dolores I wish I had been the husband she deserved. She stood by me despite the betrayals. I betrayed her so many times—I was selfish and weak, and always making excuses for my failures. I failed her. I failed to honor her and respect her, and be the man I should have been.
With a nervous glance at Miguel, Veronica repeated what Hector said.
Dolores clutched her arms against herself more tightly. “I—I don’t believe it,” she whispered. “I don’t believe he’s here. I don’t believe he’s saying those things.”
Veronica had anticipated Miguel reacting poorly to what Hector was saying, but she had expected Dolores to appreciate his apology, especially since Miguel had told her when they first met that his mother had hired psychics to find Ariana. Not knowing how to handle Dolores’s refusal to believe, Veronica sat helpless and silent.
Then Hector spoke again.
Remember that Christmas play Miguel was in? he said, addressing himself directly to his widow. Veronica echoed his words as soon as he said them. I said I had to work, and you went on your own. You knew I wasn’t working. You knew about Janet. But you let me pretend I had a good reason to miss the only play my son was ever the star of. Miguel as Scrooge! I wish I had seen it. It breaks my heart that I didn’t get to see it. I traded one of the best memories I could ever have for an empty tryst that meant nothing in the end.
Dolores’s hands dug into her arms. “Oh Lord,” she breathed. “Does he blame me for pretending I believed him?”
No! It was generous. You knew what a fool I was, but you let me pretend I kne
w what I was doing. You didn’t fight me. You didn’t leave me. You should have left me, Dolores. You deserved so much better.
Tears welled and spilled from Dolores’s eyes, and Miguel, who was still standing in the middle of the living room, crossed and knelt down by her side, taking her hands from her arms and holding them.
“I remember that play,” he whispered. “Oh, Mama. I didn’t know he was—I thought he was working…”
“That’s what I wanted you to think, querida,” his mother said, her voice choked. “I never wanted you to know your father chose some affair over seeing you perform. He missed so much, Miguel�n!”
And I can never get it back, Hector said. I regretted it for years, all these final years—I regretted everything I gave up, everything I could have had. I will always regret it.
“But you were there, Mama,” Miguel said, tears in his voice. “You were always there.”
Dolores pulled a hand away to dash tears from her cheeks. “It wasn’t enough,” she said. “I couldn’t save Ari.”
Miguel grabbed her then, sitting next to her and pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know—I wish I could have helped—I wish I could have tried to save her too—”
Ariana, Veronica thought, now would be a great time to come and talk to your family.
Sure enough, another shade began to form on the other side of Miguel.
Tell them I had to follow Bayer, I had to try to punish him. It’s not their fault. They couldn’t have stopped me.
Veronica said, “Ariana is here. She wants you to know that she had to follow Bayer, and you couldn’t have stopped her.”
It’s why I left, the last few times at least. I would find out where he was going to be, and try to catch him in the act. At first, I did it for proof, to make Papa believe. Then, I thought if I could just get a few really good photos, I’d go to the police. But he caught me once, and he told me if I ever turned him in, he’d ruin Papa. He knew about the affairs. And later, when Papa got more sick, Bayer said he’d hurt Papa. So I made him pay me money. I pretended I didn’t care what happened to Papa, and I said all I wanted was a payoff. It was the best I could do.
“But if I’d known—if we’d dealt with it as a family, she wouldn’t have had to go after him alone,” Miguel said, his arms loosening from around Dolores.
“We might have been able to keep her from getting so depressed that she—” Dolores’s voice trailed off.
Tell her I didn’t kill myself.
“Oh boy,” Veronica said. Miguel stared at her, one arm still around his mother’s shoulders, but Dolores was looking down at her hands. “It’s what Daniel and I suspected,” Veronica told Miguel. “It wasn’t suicide.” Dolores’s face snapped up.
Bayer was having me followed—he probably intended to have me killed on the outside, but then I got arrested for breaking into a house—I was out of money, and I was homeless. I needed food and a place to stay… there was a house; I’d figured out that the people were gone on vacation. And I got caught and when I was in jail waiting for my arraignment, Bayer hired someone to purposefully get arrested. He paid someone off in the jail to make sure that the person he hired would be put in with me in my cell. They killed me but made it look like I’d made a shank and cut my own wrists. The killer got away with it, and so did Bayer.
Veronica relayed all of this, wishing she could call Daniel right away and tell him.
With a gasp Dolores began sobbing and Miguel tightened his arm around her. “So it really was murder,” he said in a quiet voice.
“We’ll find out who her cellmate was,” Veronica told him. “Maybe Daniel can make them admit that Bayer hired them. It will be another charge against him.”
Miguel nodded. “It better. He’d better go away for life.”
Her weeping calmed a bit, and Dolores looked from Miguel to Veronica. “I can’t—it’s so awful. My poor Ari.”
The two shades drew closer together, and Hector turned and smiled at Ariana, who reached out a hand to him. He reached his own hand out and clasped hers.
Tell them that the hard days are behind them now, Hector said.
Tell them that we are both at peace now, Ariana added.
Veronica repeated the messages. It was Miguel’s turn to let out a sob, and his mother hugged him.
I am myself again, said Hector. I have all of my memories, and though I wasted the chance for so many more, I cherish the ones I have. Tell them I’ll be watching them and that I want to see them both find happiness.
And tell Miguel to call that friend of yours, Ariana said to Veronica. The one that likes basketball.
Veronica caught her breath and almost laughed. “Khalilah?” she said.
Miguel and Dolores gave her confused looks.
Trying to maintain a serious tone, she explained what Ariana had charged her with saying to Miguel.
A small half-grin brightened Miguel’s face. “She really said that?”
Veronica shrugged helplessly.
Dolores smiled, too. “Well, it’s about time you got out there and found yourself a nice girlfriend, mijo. I look forward to meeting her one of these days.”
Miguel looked bewildered, though happy. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Mama. I haven’t even called her yet.”
Veronica beamed at both of them, and then at Ariana. Way to give them something to look forward to, she thought at the spirit, pleased.
It’s time now, said Hector.
We have to say good-bye, Ariana agreed.
Veronica took a shaky breath and turned back to Miguel and Dolores. “They have to go now,” she said.
“Go? Where?” Miguel asked.
The spirits didn’t answer. Veronica gave him and his mother an apologetic look. “I don’t know,” she said. “But they’ll be able to see you, from wherever they are. They’ll be watching.”
Miguel searched the room with his eyes. “Papa. Ari. I’ll miss you both so much.”
Dolores said nothing, but tears fell down her cheeks and she clutched one of Miguel’s hands just below her neck.
Good-bye.
“They’re both saying good-bye,” Veronica said.
“Good-bye,” Miguel said.
The shades faded, shimmered, and were gone.
Miguel looked at Dolores. “It’s just us now, Mama.”
She gave him a grief-stricken smile. “Yes, mijo. Just you and me.”
Miguel sighed and turned to Veronica. “Thank you. So much. Without you, we couldn’t have said good-bye.”
Veronica gazed at both of them with tears in her own eyes. “I’m sorry for your losses,” she said, trying to convey the depth of her sympathy.
Dolores turned the pain-filled smile to her. “We are so fortunate to have you as a friend,” she said. “Through you, my daughter was able to speak to me again. My husband was able to tell me his regrets. It is invaluable.”
“You’re welcome,” Veronica said.
As Miguel escorted her to the door a little while later, he smiled at her. “You never did tell me what I owe you for all of your help.”
Veronica gave a little laugh. “Oh gosh. I just can’t bring myself to ask you for money.”
“We’ve talked about this, Veronica. You have a valuable talent. Invaluable, like my mother said. You deserve to be paid for sharing it.”
Veronica frowned, and then her face cleared. “I know,” she said. “You can give me painting lessons. I’ve been really wanting to start painting again. You can help me do it.”
Miguel’s smile widened. “I would be honored.”
“It’s a deal, then. I’ll call you and we can set up a time.”
“Perfect,” Miguel said. Then his face became serious. “Oh, yeah. And I was wondering… could I get your friend Khalilah’s number from you?”
~~~
Sitting in the cab she took home, Veronica turned on her phone, which she’d turned off for the conversation with Miguel and his mom. Then she sent Khalilah a
text to let her know she’d given Miguel her number, hoping Khalilah wouldn’t mind. After all, Khalilah had expressed interest in Miguel after meeting him.
Next she sent Daniel a text. “How’s it going?” she asked. “Done with work?”
Her phone buzzed as he called her in response.
“Hey Daniel,” she said as she answered.
“Veronica? Jesus. What’s this I hear about some big to-do at the convention center? Posey called me.”
“Uh, yeah,” Veronica said, aware that he’d used her full name. That was a sign that he was either furious with her or extremely worried—probably both. “That was pretty crazy…”
“Pretty crazy?! Posey said Bayer held a gun to you!”
“Well, did he tell you the gun was just a prop? Not loaded or real or anything?”
“He said you pulled away from the guy while he still had the gun pointed at you!”
“But only because Ariana told me the gun wasn’t loaded,” Veronica said.
The taxi driver, a middle aged balding man, glanced at her in the rearview mirror. There was a pause on Daniel’s end.
“I just—I can’t—why did you go off like that without even letting me know?” Daniel demanded. “You put your life in danger!”
“Not really, though—”
“Yes, really. Or have you already forgotten what happened to Gerry Wallace?”
“But that was different, someone was following me. No one knew where I was anymore, and no one would have guessed I was going to go find Bayer—”
“You don’t know that, Veronica! He might have been paranoid about you coming after him or something! He might have had guys ready in case you showed up!”
It was Veronica’s turn to pause. “I didn’t think of that,” she said.
“Since when do you go off half-cocked without telling me what’s going on?”
“Daniel…”
“I thought we were a team.”
“Daniel, I’m sorry…”
“Look… I’ll talk to you when you get home.”
Chapter 15
The Gamble and the Grave (Veronica Barry Book 4) Page 27