Final Call

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  She smiled, and even before the ever-collected Tawnia could speak, she said, “Yes, I can see the resemblance. Especially in the eyes.”

  “To Kendall?” Tawnia asked. I wanted to echo the question. The retired adoption worker we’d tracked down had been sure Kendall’s eyes were blue.

  “No, to your father.”

  That shut us both up. Disappointment flooded me. I didn’t want a legacy of any kind from the man who’d hurt our mother.

  “But you look like my Kendall, too,” Laina went on. “Which one of you is Tawnia?”

  “I am,” Tawnia said, bouncing Destiny, who had decided to begin fussing.

  “Oh, yes, the baby. Wow, I can’t believe I’m a great-grandmother.”

  Tawnia’s lips pursed, and I knew she was thinking that this woman hadn’t yet earned the right to be a great-grandmother to Destiny. She obviously hadn’t been much of a mother to Kendall.

  “Can you tell us about Kendall?” I asked. “We can go in the back room. There’s more seating there.”

  “What about your customers?”

  “There’s a bell at the door and another on the counter if they need me.”

  A short while later Laina was ensconced in my ratty easy chair, looking as comfortable as Tawnia looked awkward on the wood chair next to the worktable. I was on the worktable itself, my bare feet and legs folded under me in my usual Indian-style position.

  After a bit more small talk, Laina launched into her story. “I was barely sixteen when I had Kendall. I had no family, and her father was long out of the picture. I did what I could. I lived with some girls and worked at a bar. I thought after a few years it’d get better, but it never did. I started drinking. Doing drugs. Dating a lot of men, who would sometimes help me with the bills. We barely scraped by. I didn’t realize then what a disfavor I’d done to my daughter in keeping her. I thought the love I had for her would move mountains. I only realized my mistake when I learned how she got pregnant. That was what made me change.” She sighed. “Oh, not right away. At first I blamed her because Cody left, and I thought he was different from the others, that he’d stick around. But he was as caught in the life as I was. There’s never an escape until you make the decision yourself, and sometimes you have to scrape bottom before that can happen. I hit that right before Kendall disappeared from the bar where she was working. I knew we couldn’t keep the baby. We couldn’t do that to another child. It deserved better.”

  She paused and looked at each of us in turn. “You had a good life, didn’t you?” Her eyes begged us to say that we had. For a moment she looked much, much older.

  I nodded. “We weren’t raised together, but we each had a good life and parents who loved and took care of us. Adoption was the right thing. For us, anyway.”

  Her face relaxed. “I’m grateful for that, at least.”

  “Did you know about Kendall’s death?” Tawnia asked.

  She nodded. “I knew, but not for a year or so after. I’d been looking for her, and finally someone sent me a letter.” She blinked at the tears in her eyes. “I don’t suppose you can imagine what that felt like. I’d gone through all the therapy so I could be there for her, but she was never going to be there again. I almost gave up.”

  “But you didn’t,” Tawnia said.

  Laina managed a smile. “No. It was touch and go for a while, but I eventually met a good man and got married. We had two kids. My husband knows about Kendall. The children don’t. I never dreamed I’d get the chance to meet Kendall’s child—children.” She shook her head. “Twins. Who’d have dreamed?”

  “They don’t run in the family?”

  “Not on my side.” She hesitated. “Do you want to know about your father?”

  Ah, so she hadn’t missed the earlier tension.

  “He had eyes like ours?” I said in answer.

  “He did. Came down from his father’s side, I think. I don’t know if he really knew. His mother died when he was young, and he was raised in a series of foster homes. Not good ones for the most part. He got into drugs early. Ran away. Lived on the street. I loved him so much, or thought I did. What happened just about killed us both.” She swallowed hard and held her hand to her throat as if it hurt. Her eyes were once again full of tears.

  Killed them both? I could imagine Laina suffering, but this man, Cody, had been the cause of the heartache.

  “Would you like a little herbal tea?” I forced myself to ask, though I wanted to reject her pity for that monster. I’d put the kettle with the water and herbs on the stove when we’d entered and the tea should be hot by now.

  A tinkling signaled someone had come into the shop, and Tawnia arose. “I’ll get the tea. You go see who it is.”

  It was Thera, tying on her customary blue apron over her blue dress. I felt a calmness just by looking at her. Maybe she was right about the color blue.

  “You’re early,” I said. “Must have read my mind.”

  She smiled. “Your visitor is here already?”

  “Yeah. My sister’s here, too.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of the customers.”

  My turn to smile. “Hopefully, there’ll be some.”

  “There will. It’s not raining.”

  I admired her optimism. She did have a point, though. For Portland dwellers, not raining in the winter was almost like sunshine.

  “Go on, dear.”

  In the back room Tawnia had settled the baby in her car seat and passed everyone a cup of tea. Resuming my position on the worktable, I swirled the amber liquid around in my cup.

  Laina had recovered her composure, for which I felt immense relief. She’d obviously suffered enough already. Still, I wasn’t quite sure I was ready to hear anything more about my father. My father was Winter, not some animal who’d hurt a fifteen-year-old girl in her own home.

  “His name is Cody Beckett,” Laina began, her voice loud in the silence. “He was a gorgeous man. Blond hair, those amazing eyes, strong build. Good worker, when he wasn’t drugged up—which was pretty much all the time back then. As I said, he’d had a hard life. We didn’t talk about it much, but I knew there were things he was hiding from, things that had happened in his youth. He was in some abusive foster homes.” She gave us a wistful smile. “I thought I was in love, but I was really just looking for someone to take care of me, and Cody couldn’t even take care of himself.” She sighed. “I was pretty much wrapped up in him. I liked being with someone who could get me drugs.”

  “And Kendall?” Tawnia asked softly, her eyes going to her own daughter.

  “She was used to me having different boyfriends, bringing them home. Cody stayed with us for several months. Then she had a birthday. Her fifteenth.” Laina stopped talking and stared down at her hands. When she continued, her voice was soft. “I bought her a stuffed bear. A brown one. She loved stuffed animals, and I knew she’d love that one because it was so soft and cuddly. But when she left, she didn’t take it with her.”

  Kendall had written about the bear in the letter she’d left us. “Because she wasn’t a child anymore,” I said, “not after that night.”

  Tears started down Laina’s face. “We’d had a cake. I drank too much. Cody brought the drugs. It was all a blur after that. Late the next afternoon, I awoke and found him sitting on Kendall’s bed, holding that bear. His face was . . . it was horrible. I didn’t know what had happened, but I think he’d realized, and he felt terrible.”

  “He should have.” Since she’d died in childbirth, I felt he was also responsible for Kendall’s death.

  She nodded. “He left after that, though I begged him to stay. I didn’t want to lose my supply, you know. When Kendall came back to visit, she told me what had happened, but I didn’t believe her. Not right away. I was still so drunk I barely knew my own name. When it finally b
egan penetrating, I realized it was all my fault. I’d let my baby down. That was the beginning of the change. I’ll never forgive myself that it came too late for Kendall.” She put her face in her hands and sobbed.

  Tawnia and I looked at each other helplessly. “There were complications during delivery,” I said. “That’s nobody’s fault. Kendall had medical care, the best at the time.”

  Laina lifted her tear-stained face. “She should have been home playing with her teddy bear.” She had a point, and nothing I could say would alleviate the pain or her guilt. It was something she’d live with the rest of her life.

  We were quiet as we waited for Laina to collect herself again. I felt numb, and Tawnia had tears in her eyes.

  “Cody went to jail,” Laina continued suddenly. “Not for what he did to Kendall but for beating a guy at a bar. Attempted manslaughter. Only Cody wasn’t guilty for that. He wasn’t even there that night, but he didn’t try to defend himself. I believe he wanted to go to jail to make up for what he did to Kendall.”

  He’d gone to prison for a crime he didn’t commit to pay for the crime he did commit. There was a strange sort of justice in the idea.

  “He’s still alive?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Maybe. Last I heard, which was probably ten years ago, he was off the drugs—he got off them in prison—but he spent his time between jobs drunk. Back then he lived on the edge of Hayesville. Way out. Made huge sculptures from junk and giant tree logs. A guy sold them for him. Everyone in Hayesville had heard of him. Never left his place. Maybe he stayed out there to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone again. If he’s alive, he’s probably still there.”

  “But you got married,” Tawnia said.

  “Yes.” Laina ran a tissue under her eyes. “He owns a car repair shop. That’s how we met—my car broke down. He runs it now with our son. We have two children, both married, and four grandchildren. My son-in-law is studying to be a dentist, so my daughter lives with us. He only sees them on the weekends. It’s tough on my daughter, but I don’t know what I’ll do when the grandkids move out. They’re pretty much my life. Them and my husband.”

  Grandkids. We were her grandkids, too.

  I pushed away from that vein of thought. I didn’t expect anything from this woman, and I didn’t want her to expect anything from me. “So, did any, ah, talents run in your family?” I asked. “Or did Cody ever mention any that ran in his? Things that might have been handed down genetically to us. Particularly anything . . . uh, unusual.”

  Laina’s brow creased at my odd question. “Well, I have a way with plants, but that’s really the extent of my abilities. I love cooking and taking care of my family. I didn’t always love it, though. As for Cody, he once told me his mother painted. There was something odd about her, though, and she was put in a sanitarium and died when he was young. I don’t know the particulars. Cody didn’t like to talk about it. As for him, he was very sensitive. He paid attention to details. Sometimes he seemed to know things, and I didn’t know how.” She frowned and swallowed hard. “Like when I found him holding Kendall’s bear. He hadn’t been any more aware than I was that night—he couldn’t have been with what he’d been using—but somehow he knew what he’d done, and that’s what made him leave.”

  I looked at Tawnia. Could it be that Kendall had left an imprint of terror on the bear? If Cody shared my ability, he would have relived his actions as though he’d been the victim. I knew for myself that such an experience changed you forever.

  I had to know. That meant I’d have to visit him and hear the truth for myself. Face him as Kendall couldn’t.

  Later, I thought. After this case is over. After I think about it some more. A large part of me was relieved to have the excuse. I think I’d heard all of the past that I could stand for right now.

  Laina’s eyes were on Destiny. “Do you think I could hold her for a few minutes?”

  “Sure.” Tawnia didn’t hesitate. “A minute is probably all she’ll stand, though. She’s at an age when she really only likes Autumn and me. Even my husband has to really work to get her to stay with him if I’m around.”

  Laina enjoyed her minute with Destiny, giving her back when she started fussing. The numbness was wearing off now, and I was glad Laina had come. She asked about our lives and what we were doing. I told her about the antiques shop, my herbs, and my love of organic foods, purposefully leaving out my work with the police. Tawnia told her about her part-time work as an artist for the advertising agency, her parents in Texas, and her engineer husband. A peace seemed to settle over Laina, as though knowing we were content went a long way toward lessening her guilt and filling the hole Kendall’s death had left in her life.

  “Well,” Laina said some time later, trying to arise from the chair. “I’d better get to my appointment.”

  I grabbed her arm and helped her up. She felt thin and frail under the long sleeve of the suit.

  “You will keep in touch, won’t you?” Laina asked hopefully.

  “Sure.” Tawnia said. “Thank you so much for coming.”

  “Thank you for looking me up. It helps to know what happened to Kendall’s baby—babies.”

  We watched her leave in silence.

  “Well,” Tawnia said, bouncing Destiny, “I’m going to feed this baby.”

  I was glad she didn’t want to talk about it now. I didn’t either. What I wanted to do was take Shannon’s gun from my coat pocket and shoot up a few targets or go to my tae kwon do class and spar with someone. The punching bag there might help. Since tonight was my Tuesday class at the martial arts studio, I was at least partly in luck.

  For now, I opted to clean out one of my glass cases. It needed to be done, and my mood couldn’t grow any worse. Tawnia came to help me after a while, leaving Destiny asleep in her car seat by the counter.

  We had started on a third case when my phone beeped with a text from Shannon. “They’re finished processing Cheyenne’s belongings,” I said.

  “You should go, then.” Tawnia paused in her cleaning. “Thera’s had only three customers all morning. She doesn’t need either of us. I’ll finish up this case and then go shopping. I’m practically out of food. Is there anything I should pick up for you?”

  I shook my head. My organic grocery list would take her out of her way and to three more stores, which wasn’t exactly a lot of fun with a baby in tow. “What then?” I asked.

  “I’ll head home. I have some drawings to work on. You’re coming back to stay again tonight, right?”

  That she asked showed she was still worried about the threat. “Sure. But you can go to my place and wait for me if you’d rather.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll go next door to Sophie’s if I get worried. Like I told you, I’m doing this play. I need to do my part to help Liam.”

  “I think you just want to do the play,” I teased.

  She grinned. “It is a lot of fun.”

  “See you in a bit.” I hugged her. “I’ll let Thera know where I’ll be.”

  “Autumn?”

  I turned back to her. “What?”

  “That picture I drew of the man in front of that house. Do you think it might be Cody? I wish I’d brought it so I could have asked Laina.”

  A shiver rippled through me. Now I knew why he’d looked familiar. He looked like us. Not his white hair, but his eyes, and maybe the shape of his face. I nodded, and she gave me a wistful smile. “We’re going to have to meet him, aren’t we?”

  I nodded. “But not today.”

  “Right.”

  I left her then, thinking of Cody’s mother who’d died in a sanitarium, a place where people had once gone to convalesce from a long illness. She’d been an artist, like Tawnia.

  Had she also shared the strange part of Tawnia’s talent? Maybe we’d never know.

  Chapter
16

  Tracy was waiting for me at the station instead of Shannon, looking official in an actual police uniform, complete with her sidearm. Her iron-straight blonde hair looked freshly done, though I knew she’d been here for hours. Tracy was one of those rare people who would have looked just as at home at a high society ball as in a shoot-out with drug dealers.

  “I have everything waiting for you in a room,” she told me. “I hope you don’t mind if we videorecord your examination. In case we need it for court later.”

  “Sure,” I said, though I knew it wasn’t to prove I’d “seen” something but rather to prove I hadn’t contaminated the evidence. “So how was your date last night?”

  Tracy grinned. “Better than yours, I bet.”

  I thought about the almost kiss and rolled my eyes. “You got that right.”

  “Oh, about that number you texted me last night. The call did come from a pay phone. I’ve sent someone to dust for prints and requested footage from a nearby security camera, but it’s up in the air if it’ll show anything useful. The angle isn’t all that good.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of. Thanks.”

  The precinct was alive with activity, as it always seemed to be. There was barely a hiccup in the action as I followed Tracy through the department, though there had been a time when everyone had stopped and stared at the odd woman who claimed to do strange things. Progress.

  “Hey, Autumn.”

  I waved at Peirce Elvey, a short, flaming-haired officer whose usual grin stood out on his freckled face. He was always ready with a smile or joke and from the beginning had treated me normally—not like someone to avoid or to use. Most of the other officers were still just faces to me, except for Tracy and, of course, Shannon, but Peirce I considered a friend.

  “So where’s Shannon?” I asked Tracy, feeling a slight heat in my face at his name. Or maybe it was because it was too hot inside the building. Too hot in the winter and too cold in the summer. They’d probably save taxpayers a bundle if they could regulate their thermostats.