Gabriel: A thriller (Standalone within the Divinus Pueri series)

by Tracie Podger

  We headed back into the kitchen and I grabbed my laptop from the counter. Thomas sat at the kitchen table and flipped open the lid.

  “What are you looking for?” I asked, again keeping my voice low.

  “Richford.”

  “I’ve never heard of it,” I said.

  “Which is why, my friend, we are Googling it.”

  There was a town called Richford, population two thousand, three hundred and seventy, and it was a two-hour drive away. It always amazed me that population figures tend to be rounded.

  “That reminds me, she said Sierra visited her late afternoon, she wouldn’t have gotten back for the school run. Even if she’d had the day off work, which is possible, I don’t recall having to pick up Taylor because Sierra was out for the day in the last few months she was alive,” I said.

  “What time would you normally get in from work?”

  “Six, normally. It’s possible someone else collected Taylor, or she stayed behind in after-school club. I wouldn’t know, I guess.”

  “Still didn’t leave a great deal of talking time, bear in mind they hadn’t seen each other for years, I can’t imagine it was quick meeting,” Thomas said.

  I stared at the pictures on the screen of a town, not dissimilar to our own. It had a small central area with stores, a park for the kids, a supermarket just on the outskirts that had caused a fuss, according to the Internet. The locals hadn’t wanted it.

  Thomas picked up his phone and sent a text message. He read aloud as he typed.

  “Lily Preston, Richford. Check Social Security, housing departments, run through database. Find me everything you can.”

  “I guess Pete will be busy tonight,” I said.

  “He doesn’t have anyone to go home to, and I’m sure he’ll appreciate the overtime.”

  “Talking about anyone at home, who were you having dinner with the other night?”

  Thomas smiled at me. “Remember Heather Scott from school? She just got back into town. We hooked up for a drink, I cooked her dinner.”

  “You cooked her dinner? Fuck me.”

  “Well, I’d rather be fucking her than you, but yeah, I cooked. I can, you know.”

  Thomas’ comment caused my chest to constrict. I missed my wife. I missed the intimacy of a relationship, the normalcy of cooking a meal. I missed the laughter and the occasional arguments. I just fucking missed her.

  The feeling of losing a loved one was like nothing I could explain. I tried to rationalize the pangs of loneliness, the bursts of anger. There had been times I’d wanted to smash the house to pieces. I’d wanted to use my hands and dig at the earth covering her body. I’d wanted to scream at the injustice, just stand in the middle of the street and shout as many expletives as I knew skyward.

  So when I heard of others having a lovely time with their partners, whether it was a new relationship like Thomas’, or waiting on a birth like Jake’s, it hurt.

  “I’m going to head back to the station, type this lot up and see if Pete’s made any progress. I still think we need to call in the state,” Thomas said.

  “Can we wait just another day?”

  “Every day we don’t have help, is another day further from the truth, just keep that in mind.”

  “I will.”

  I walked Thomas to his car and watched him drive away. I’d wanted him to call in support initially, but now? Now I wanted to know why I was being lied to.

  The sun had begun to set by the time Lily made her appearance. Her wet hair was piled on top of her head and the waft of vanilla, a familiar scent, preceded her as she came to stand at the kitchen door. I’d been concentrating on some long overdue paperwork for the garage.

  “Come on in, don’t just stand there,” I said, offering a smile.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to intrude.”

  “You’re not, it’s just accounts, it can wait.”

  “Maybe I can help, I did a little accounting at my last job.” She took the seat beside me.

  “It’s okay, like I said, it can wait. It’s not exactly keeping my attention. Are you hungry?”

  “I am, starving actually.”

  “I’m not the best cook but let’s see what we have.”

  “I can cook, you can carry on for a little while,” she said.

  I stood and walked to the fridge, ignoring her offer. “We have pie, we’d have to cook it to see what kind. Could be savoury or sweet. We have some steaks I can grill.”

  “Steak sounds good. Please, let me help.”

  “I guess you can chop some salad,” I replied.

  I placed the ingredients on the counter and watched as she went straight to the correct drawer for a chopping knife. She paused slightly; looking for a board before finding what she wanted resting against the wall at one end. I took the steaks and a pan, opting to place them under the broiler. I could have put on them on the outdoor grill, but I didn’t want to leave her alone in my kitchen.

  I wasn’t comfortable having her move around my home as if she belonged. I wasn’t happy listening to her hum a tune, but I’d dug a hole I wasn’t sure I was able to climb out of.

  “Would you like a beer?” she asked, as if I was the guest.

  Maybe she realized how tense I’d become. She quietly continued to prepare the salad. I needed to relax, or at least pretend to. I sighed as I opened the fridge and took out two beers. I snapped off the caps and handed her one.

  “Lily, I haven’t had a woman in my house since Sierra. So this feels strange for me. Please, don’t take offence, okay?”

  “I’ll try not to. I did say I could move on if this is too awkward.”

  “I know, and I appreciate that offer, but for now, your safety is important.”

  While we waited for the steaks to broil we sat. “Tell me about this farm you worked on?”

  “Farm?”

  “At my folks, you said you worked with horses for a while.”

  “Oh yeah. It was for a real short time, just a weekend job really. Maybe I made it sound more than it was. I used to go and help out, care for the horses and cattle. I really enjoyed it,” she said.

  I likened her to a duck. Above water she was calm but underneath she was swimming like fuck. She’d made a mistake and realized it. I pretended not to notice.

  “I loved living at the ranch. Being outdoors is where I feel the most comfortable.”

  “How did you meet Sierra?” she asked. It was the first time she questioned me.

  “At a fight.” I didn’t think there would be any harm in telling her the truth. “I used to fight for money, Lily. Sierra came along with a friend, the cops arrived to break it up, and we had to run. Somehow she ended up in my car and I took her for breakfast. The rest, as they say, is history.”

  “Sounds romantic,” she said with a laugh.

  “Well, if fifty sweaty guys baying for blood and waving dollars around is romantic, then yeah, I guess it was.”

  “Why did you do that?” she asked, as I stood to check on the steaks.

  “Easy money, I guess. I wanted to travel a little, get out of Dodge, so to speak. I picked up a couple of fights and then got invited on the circuit.”

  “Did you win?”

  “Undefeated. I quit not long after I met Sierra and came home.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she was expecting Taylor. I wanted a home for them and for her to be around my family since…” I didn’t finish the sentence.

  “Since she didn’t have any, you were going to say.”

  “I was. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I guess I was lucky, I got fostered out, and like I said, they weren’t bad parents.”

  “What were their names?” I asked, pretending to be distracted by plating up our meal.

  “Anna-Marie and Lou. Regular churchgoers, pillars of the community, those types.”

  “Did they know what went on at the convent?” I asked, as I placed the plates on the table.

  Lily rose to gather cut
lery, again heading straight for the correct drawer.

  “I doubt it. Nothing untoward happened, certainly to me. They had three foster kids, including me. I’m not sure where the others came from.”

  I filed that information away.

  “This looks great,” she said as she tucked in.

  “Let me get another beer.”

  “Trying to get me drunk?” she said then laughed.

  ‘No, I can pour you a soda if you’d prefer.”

  Not drunk, Lily, just loose-lipped, I thought.

  “One more will be fine,” she said.

  As I watched her at my table, eating, drinking her beer, it was yet another version of Lily I was seeing. This one seemed a little more natural, yet still a far cry from the shy, modest one she portrayed herself to be at my folks.

  “Will you tell me a little about Sierra?” she asked.

  “She was the kindest person I knew. She didn’t have a mean bone in her body, never a cross word about anyone. She had more compassion in her little finger than I have in my whole being. Everyone loved her.”

  “She must have had some flaws,” Lily said.

  My fork, laden with food, paused just outside my lips at her comment. I detected bitterness in her voice.

  “I’m sorry, that was really inappropriate. I’d just like to know her, know how alike we are,” she said.

  I continued to eat. “Of course she had flaws, everyone does. She was too kind, too compassionate sometimes. She was a rose-tinted glasses person.”

  “Is that a flaw, though?” I shrugged my shoulders. “You seem a little…jaded, although I’m not sure that’s the right word,” she said.

  “Jaded? For sure. My wife was murdered, Lily. I guess that would do some strange things to a man.” My voice held a level of aggression.

  Lily kept her head bowed and her eyes focused on her meal, but I noticed she had stopped eating. She blinked a few times and then I saw a tear roll down her cheek. I laid down my cutlery and reached over. I placed my hand on her arm and watched her stare at it.

  “I’m sorry, I guess that was inappropriate of me,” I said.

  “We’ll figure it out, Gabe. Between us, we’ll catch who did this,” she whispered.

  I rested back on my chair, my appetite gone. “Will we? The police didn’t do a good job of that initially.”

  She turned to face me; it was her turn to lay her hand on mine.

  “I believe in hope and faith, Gabriel. If we don’t have that, we have nothing.”

  “Faith is not in my vocabulary, sadly,” I said with a chuckle. I wanted her hand off mine so I used the pretense of picking up my fork to continue to eat.

  “I guess I’ve never left the religion. Faith and hope are my go-tos.”

  “Even now, knowing what you do?”

  “Even now. What happened to those children was dreadful, disgusting, but it can’t be representative of the whole religion. If I don’t have faith, Gabe, I don’t have anything.”

  Yet she was running scared from the Catholic Church, I thought.

  “I guess if religion is a comfort for you, then it’s the right thing to have,” I said, not for one minute believing a word I just said.

  “Well, that was lovely, thank you,” she said, pushing her cleared plate away. “Shall I make coffee?”

  I nodded, “Sure, why not.” I didn’t usually drink coffee so late, not that I needed a stimulant to keep me awake. It was just something Sierra never did so neither did I.

  She collected the plates and stacked them on the countertop before preparing the coffee. I made a point of not watching her, for fear of seeing my wife puttering about her kitchen.

  “I think I’ll go outside for a cigarette,” I said, anything to distract me.

  “Okay, I’ll bring it out when it’s ready,” she said, smiling at me.

  I sat outside and the evening was balmy. The sound of crickets echoed around, their chirping had annoyed the hell out of me for many years when I was younger. It symbolized everything I’d disliked about the small town, Hickville life. I chuckled as I recalled a conversation where I’d used the word ‘Hickville’ and received a clip to the back of my head from my dad. There was nothing hickville about where I lived. It was a pleasant town, people were generally friendly, and it had been the perfect location for Sierra, as well as to bring Taylor up in. But once the investigation was done? Once I’d found who killed my wife? I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay around.

  “You look lost in thought,” I heard. Lily stood at the back door staring at me.

  “Listening to the sounds of the night,” I said.

  She took a step out, holding two mugs of black strong coffee, and sat at the small metal table. She slid one across to me.

  “May I?” she said, picking up the pack of cigarettes.

  “Help yourself. How does this town compare to, what was it called, Richford?”

  “Yeah, Richford. It’s pretty similar actually. Although, here is a little smaller, a little more quaint. I like it here.”

  As the evening went on, she relaxed a little, her body became less tense. We chatted about small town life, about my job, about anything other than Sierra. On occasion, she’d bring the conversation around to Taylor, and although I answered, I kept what information I gave her brief. She wanted to know about my friends, about Sierra’s friends, again I measured any answers against knowingly giving her information I didn’t think she needed.

  As much as I didn’t want to, I began to enjoy the conversation. Having company, sitting out in the yard, and just chatting was probably the thing I missed the most. In the beginning, after Sierra had been killed, the house was always full of visitors. Trina still popped over once a week and loaded the freezer, and of course, Thomas came by for a beer, but most nights, after putting Taylor to bed, I sat on my own in silence. I hated TV; I didn’t really listen to music, so all I had were the conversations that went on in my head.

  “I think I’ll head on up to bed,” Lily said, and then stood.

  I was glad, I needed a shower and an early night myself, but I hadn’t wanted to leave her alone. I didn’t want to think of her snooping around the house.

  “Good idea. I’ll lock up and then head to bed myself. If you want to take a drink up with you, I can alarm the downstairs then.”

  “Where will you sleep?”

  “I don’t sleep, but I’ll take Taylor’s bed.”

  “I can sleep in her room, if you want your bed back,” she said.

  “It’s fine. I often sleep in there with her.”

  “You’re a great dad,” she said.

  “I try to be. It’s not easy sometimes, what with working and juggling school holidays.”

  “Good night then.”

  She paused before she finally walked through the kitchen, took a glass and filled it water then headed for the stairs. I heard her moving around and the sound of water running as I locked up. I’d lied to her about the alarm system, it wasn’t sophisticated enough to arm part of the house. Maybe that was something I’d need to address. I just wanted her to think she was restricted to the upstairs.

  I gathered up all the paperwork, relating to our conversations and the investigation, and carried them upstairs with me.

  I tucked the documents under the mattress, stripped off my t-shirt and kicked off my sneakers and socks. I then left the room and was halfway across the hall to the bathroom when my bedroom door opened.

  “I…err. I’m looking for fresh towels,” Lily said.

  I was standing in just my jeans and her gaze was focused on my chest. She was staring at my tattoo I imagined. I saw her eyes widen and her tongue run slowly over her bottom lip.

  “There’s a linen cupboard in the en-suite, beside the shower,” I said.

  “Oh, I didn’t want to poke around. Thank you.” Her cheeks colored.

  So she didn’t want to poke around in the obvious place for a fresh towel, but was happy to walk around the house looking for one?

>   “Goodnight, Lily,” I said, holding my position in the hallway.

  “Yes, sorry. Goodnight.” She backed through the bedroom door and gently closed it.

  I stood in the bathroom, resting my hands on the sink and looking at my reflection in the mirror. I looked tired and in need of a haircut. My brown hair had flecks of blond, bleached from the sun I guessed, or maybe it was grey. I ran my hand over the scruff on my chin; I quite liked it. It was the excuse I gave myself for not shaving. In truth, I just couldn’t be bothered. I slid my jeans over my hips and climbed in the shower. When I was done, I wrapped a towel around my waist, grabbed my jeans from the floor, but hesitated before opening the bathroom door. It was enough to be standing topless with Lily in close proximity, let alone naked with just a towel.

  I couldn’t hear anything, so I opened the door and quietly walked to Taylor’s bedroom.

  I lay for what felt like ages, just staring at the ceiling and thinking. Thoughts rushed through my brain, adding to the confusion and list of questions.

  It must have been the early hours of the morning when I heard a tap on the bedroom door. I bolted up and reached under the pillow for my gun.

  “Gabriel?” I heard.

  “It’s open.”

  The door slowly opened and Lily stood there dressed only in a white shirt. I could see the outline of her breasts and the white panties she wore as the light from the hallway illuminated her.

  “I think there’s someone outside,” she said, her voice just a little over a whisper.

  “Okay, stay in here.”

  I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and then realized I was totally naked. I’d kept the sheet over my lap but I guessed she would have known. She turned her back. I climbed from the bed and grabbed the jeans I had worn the previous day. I quickly pulled them on and grabbed my gun from under my pillow.

  “I’m scared,” she whispered.

  “It’s okay, stay here. Do not leave this room, you hear me?” I rested my hand on her shoulder as I passed.

  I crept to the doorway and paused, listening for any sounds from downstairs.

  “Where did you hear the noise?” I asked, again, keeping my voice low.