“I’m sorry, Rebecca,” he said. “We’re trying to protect you for your own good.”
I whirled around. “What kind of patronizing crap is that?”
He took a step back. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“I’m not a vase to be put on a high shelf out of the way. I’m a person, Garrett.” The adrenaline high that had propelled me to my feet was fading away and I was nearly shaking.
“I know that. You’re a person who’s very dear to me. You’re a person that I . . . that I love.” He flushed to the roots of his dark hair.
I threw my hands in the air. “Really? This is where you’re going to do that? That’s how you’re going to tell me you love me for the first time? In a courtroom?”
“It’ll make a great story to tell our kids,” he offered.
“Our what?” What on earth was he talking about?
“Our kids. You want kids, right? I want kids,” he said, taking a step toward me.
It was like he was speaking in riddles. “What are you saying?”
Cynthia was leaning back against the table, long legs stretched in front of her. “I think he might be proposing.”
I turned to her. “Seriously? You think that’s what he’s doing?”
“He’s not doing it well, but I think it’s what he’s doing.” She shrugged and started packing up her files.
“Did he ever propose to you?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. He didn’t. There were a few times I thought he might be warming up to it, but he never managed to get down on one knee.”
I looked up at him standing on the other side of the rail. “He’s still not. He doesn’t have a ring, either.” I turned back to him. “Do you? Do you have a ring?”
“Not yet.” Impressively, his cheeks got even pinker.
“Then as far as I’m concerned it’s not a proposal, and I’m still not speaking to you.” I leaned back. “Huerta, I’d like to return to my cell and gather my belongings now.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said. “Anything I can do for you, Ms. Harlen?”
To describe the look that passed between Cynthia and Huerta as smoldering would be disrespectful to fires everywhere. I needed to fan myself because of the heat coming off the two of them.
“I’m fine,” Cynthia said. “Thank you, Officer Huerta.”
“You certainly are,” Huerta said under his breath as he took my elbow to escort me away.
“Did you ask her out?” I asked, watching Huerta watch Cynthia walk away.
“Not yet. I’m waiting for the right moment.” He opened the railing for me to walk out of the courtroom.
“Bwak bwak bwak bwakahhhhh!” I clucked at him.
He clenched his jaw. “I’m not chicken.”
“Sure you’re not,” I said. “Not chicken at all.”
• • •
Huerta let me into my cell and didn’t close the door after me. “Go ahead,” he said. “Pack up.”
Once again, I stripped the sheets off the bunk beds and folded them up.
“It’s for real this time?” Cathy asked. Her voice sounded so small.
I stopped what I was doing and walked over to the bars between our cells. “Yeah. Well, sort of.” I explained the arrangement to her.
She laughed. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Not one little bit.” I still wasn’t happy about it, but on the other hand, I was pretty excited about going home.
“I swear, Rebecca, nothing ever goes the normal way with you, does it?” She gave me a smile and I felt relief course through me.
“Do you want any of this stuff?” I gestured at the piles of my belongings. “Maybe the sheets? I don’t have a twin-sized mattress back at my place. They’ll only go into the linen closet and sit there.”
She hesitated. “Sure. Maybe one of those pillows, too.”
“You bet.” Once again, I felt tears prick at the back of eyes. “I’m going to miss you, Cathy.”
She waved her hand at me. “Yeah, sure you will. You’ll get out there in the world and forget all about me.”
“I swear I won’t, Cathy. You . . . you really helped me get through this. I’m not sure how I would have survived all this without you. I’m not going to forget that and I’m not going to forget you.”
She dropped to the floor and starting doing push-ups.
“Cathy,” I said. “Stop for a second. Look at me.”
She lowered herself gently to the floor, then took her time sitting up. “What, Rebecca? What more do you want?”
“I’m not going to forget. I don’t know how much more plainly to say it than that.” I didn’t always understand Cathy, but I knew how much she’d helped me through the last few days.
She got up and walked over to the bars so we were nose to nose. “Well, you should forget. You should forget you ever knew me. Want to know why?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m guilty. I did everything they’ve accused me of doing and a few other things they haven’t found yet, although I figure that’s just a matter of time.” She brushed her hair back from her face. “Want to know something else? The only thing I regret is getting caught.”
“That’s it? That’s the only thing?” I couldn’t believe that was true.
“Yes. I’d like to know who the asshat that turned me in is and curse them to their grave.” She looked like she was going to spit on the ground for emphasis and then thought better of it.
I took a deep breath. “Fine, then. I’ll find out who turned you in.”
“Rebecca . . .”
I cut her off with a held-up hand. “I’m leaving. Stay strong, sister. Be fierce. I’ll be back.”
• • •
Cynthia, Sprocket and I walked down the steps of City Hall together. “Thanks for putting together this outfit for me.”
She had been waiting for me with some clean clothes for me to wear. I would never have chosen this blouse with these slacks or topped it off with this scarf. All the pieces were mine, but I’d never assembled them in this particular way and, frankly, they looked great on me.
She smiled. “I always loved playing with Barbies when I was a little girl. Usually nobody lets you dress them up to suit your own whims. It’s one more perk of being a defense attorney!”
“Treating your clients like dress-up toys is a perk?” It sounded like a hideous chore to me.
She looked over the top of her sunglasses at me. “Spending time alone in a kitchen is a perk to you?”
I nodded. “I’m taking it’s not your cup of tea.”
“Nope. So vive la différence?” She put her sunglasses back up and kept walking.
“Absolutely.” I followed her.
Garrett met us at the bottom of the steps. “You look nice,” he said, and leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. I pulled back. He turned to Cynthia. “When does she need to be back?”
“I’ll contact her and let her know. That’s kind of my job.” She cocked one hip.
“Well, it’s my job to keep her safe and keep the town safe around her. It would help if I knew where she had to be when.”
Cynthia leaned in close to Garrett. “It is not my job to help you do yours. You’ll have to figure that out on your own. I’ll get the charge against her dropped.”
Garrett did not back down. “What good will that do if she’s been shot or burned or whatever else might happen around her?”
“You both know I’m right here, right?” I asked.
Garrett ran his hand over his face. “Yes. I know. Come on. I’ll take you home.” He took my arm.
I shook him off. “I don’t know if I’m even speaking to you, much less letting you anywhere near my house.”
“Rebecca,” he said, a note of pleading in his voice.
It was g
oing to take a lot more pleading before I decided to let him off the hook. Sprocket and I would be fine walking home. Before we could take more than three steps down the stairs, however, Antoine pulled up in a cherry-red Mustang. “Rebecca, get in. I’ll give you and the chien a ride.”
I hesitated. My better angels told me to thank Antoine and keep on walking. They also said to be careful not to do something that couldn’t be undone. Then my less-better angels punched them in the nose and told me to get in the convertible.
So I did. “See you at the apartment,” I called as we drove off.
Eleven
I regretted my decision almost immediately. Antoine shifted into gear and then let his hand slide over onto my thigh. Of course he’d rented a manual transmission. He was such a control freak. He couldn’t even let a car change gears automatically. I picked up his hand and put it back on the gearshift and gave him a pointed look. He shrugged, but grinned at me. In addition to being a control freak, he also had no sense of shame.
One thing I’d prided myself on during our divorce was not sending mixed signals to Antoine. I’d been clear since I’d left. Our marriage was over. Our relationship was over. The grand adventure that had been Antoine and Rebecca was over over over. Now I’d left my boyfriend on the sidewalk with his ex-girlfriend and jumped into a car with Antoine. Not smart.
“Where to, darling?” he asked.
“To my apartment,” I said.
“Excellent.”
“To the driveway in front of my apartment,” I amended. “You’re not coming in.”
“No?” His face fell. “Not even for a few moments? I could whip us up something to eat.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “I’ll figure something out on my own.”
“But you must be exhausted after your ordeal! You should be waited on hand and foot.” His hand went to his heart as if the idea of me making my own meal actually hurt him.
I honestly wasn’t exhausted. There wasn’t that much to do in jail unless you went with the Cathy Exercise Program and spent all your hours doing calisthenics. I probably hadn’t slept this much since before I moved back to Grand Lake.
We pulled into the driveway. Garrett’s car was already there, as was Garrett, standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his foot tapping. I rolled down my window.
“Not funny, Rebecca,” he said.
“It wasn’t intended to be.” I waited while Antoine came around to open my door, as I’d known he would, and stepped out. Then I tipped the seat forward to let Sprocket out. Sprocket danced over to Garrett and sat next to him. I could have been mistaken, but he seemed to be glaring at me, too. He might even have been tapping his paw.
“Yes, well, that’s good, because if Judge Romero had seen that, you’d be back behind bars before nightfall.” Garrett reached down to pet Sprocket, who responded by licking his hand. “That would have been a laugh riot.”
Antoine pulled my bags out of his backseat and started toward the stairway to my apartment. Sprocket leapt over to the steps, planted himself on the bottom stair and growled.
“Sprocket,” I called. “Come here right now.”
Sprocket ignored me.
Garrett walked over to Antoine and took the bags. “I’ll handle it from here.” Sprocket moved out of the way, and Garrett marched up the steps, took the key I hid under the watering can and let himself into the apartment.
I sighed and turned to Antoine. “Thanks for the ride.”
“I’m here to help whenever you need it, Rebecca. However you need and whenever you need. Do not ever forget it.” He took my hand, kissed it, returned to his car and drove away.
• • •
Garrett and Sprocket stood in the middle of my apartment, both glaring at me. “Is that how this is going to be?” Garrett asked. “Are you going to be acting like a sulky teenager until this matter is resolved?”
A series of answers went through my head, ranging from “yes” to “maybe” back to “damn straight” and over to “hell no.” I settled on the last one.
“You can’t blame me for being mad, though,” I said. “This whole situation is ridiculous.”
“I don’t see anything remotely funny about it.” Garrett stomped over to the couch and sat down. Now who was acting like a sulky teenager?
I went to my bedside table, where I was certain I’d left Esther’s diary. It wasn’t there. I opened the top drawers to see if someone had slid it into one of them. No diary.
Maybe I’d left it on the kitchen counter. Nope. It was diary-free.
“What are you looking for?” Garrett asked.
“The diary.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Let the diary drop. If something happened to that girl, it happened more than sixty years ago. No one cares.” He loosened his tie and leaned back on the sofa.
“I care.” I sat down next to him. “I think someone else must care, too, Garrett. Someone cared enough to mess up the microfiche at the library and to steal the diary from my apartment. If I hadn’t made a copy, it would be gone. I think someone doesn’t want me to figure out what happened to Esther Brancato.”
Before our argument could progress further, there was a knock on the door. It was Faith, Annie and Allen. They all came by to celebrate my freedom. Barbara volunteered to babysit for Faith’s daughters so she could have a night out.
“I swear,” Faith said as she came in through the door with two bags of groceries. “I’ve had more nights out as a single mother than I did when I was married. I seriously am questioning whether or not men and women were meant to live together at all.”
Annie and Allen were right behind her. The bags they were carrying clinked. Bottles. Nice. There were many things you could count on Allen for: a sailboat ride on a sunny summer day, a patronizing explanation of how business works and a really good martini. It was too late for the ride, but I’d happily put up with the patronizing explanation to get my hands on a martini at the moment.
Faith stopped dead in her tracks and stared at Garrett. “Are we speaking to him?”
“Oh, come on!” he said. “How am I the bad guy here?”
Faith came the rest of the way into the apartment and started setting up a series of truly delicious-looking snacks on the breakfast bar in the kitchen. I saw good cheese and bread, olives, dark chocolate. I couldn’t help it. I clapped my hands like a baby looking at her first birthday cake.
“How are you the bad guy?” Faith asked as she unpacked. “Well, let’s see. You colluded with the sheriff to get her arrested, made sure she’d have to spend four days in jail before she even got to go before a judge, refused to represent her and didn’t even take care of her dog while she was locked up.”
“I totally planned to take care of Sprocket while she was in jail. He wouldn’t stop howling,” Garrett protested. “People were complaining.”
“Well, Counselor, I’m not sure motive matters. Actions do.” She gestured to Allen and a cleared-off place on the bar.
Allen looked tired, which was so not an Allen thing. Allen looked tan and healthy all year. When most of the rest of the town turned pasty white in February, he still looked golden and glowing. It was part of why I’d always been suspicious of him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, putting ice in an ice bucket.
He took the gin, the vodka and the Lillet Blanc out of the bag. “Well, a lot less in a minute or so.” Ah, he was going to make my favorite martini: the Vesper. It was the original James Bond martini and packed a punch that could hit you harder than Sugar Ray. It was also seriously delicious.
“Just a long day?” I asked. I’d been about to pull my cocktail shaker out of the cabinet, but then noticed that Allen had brought his own. My respect for him rose another notch. I’d been horrified when he and Annie had first gotten together—in part because I thought he might have murdered someone—but since th
en he’d done nothing but make me like him more and more.
“A little more than that. I’m worried about what’s happening with the city council race.” He filled the shaker with ice and added shots of gin and vodka.
I picked up the lemon he’d brought and started shaving off twists. “Why?”
“First there was the popcorn, then someone tried to blackmail Justin out of the race. It’s intimidating.” He put the top on the shaker and mixed.
“Somebody made sure Cathy didn’t run, either.” I lined up martini glasses for him.
“Cathy? Embezzler Cathy?” he asked, pausing mid-pour.
“Yeah. She was considering running, but then someone gave that tip about what she was doing to the Sentinel.” I gestured for him to keep pouring.
Allen shrugged and complied. “Good thing they did. She is not the kind of person I want to see running our city. Can you imagine?”
I knew what he meant, despite the recent soft spot I’d developed for her. “Yeah, but don’t you think that’s strange? First she gets knocked out of the race by being exposed for embezzling, then someone tries to poison one of the city council candidates, then someone tries to blackmail Justin. Sounds fishy to me.” I took a sip of my martini. “Good drink, Allen.” I didn’t spend a lot of time behind the bar, but mixology had a lot in common with baking. Good ingredients mixed in the right proportions at the right temperatures yielded superior results. I respected the person who knew that, too.
He acknowledged the compliment with a head nod and started handing out the rest of the drinks.
“It feels fishy to me, too. But who?” Allen asked.
Faith took her drink and asked, “Who’s left in the race?”
“Geraldine, Sheri, Chris, Taylor and Justin,” Annie said.
“And someone already tried to poison and blackmail Justin.” The fact that whoever it was had tried to poison him with my popcorn made me extra upset and worried about the whole situation. “Who’s next?”
“I hope it’s not Sheri. You know it’s because of Sheri that the elementary school garden has gone completely organic,” Faith said, sipping her drink. “She came up with a whole slew of natural ways to cut down on the insect problems in the school garden.”
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