A Fractured Peace

by Elia Seely

  “I’ll do some research about sleep walking. Maybe it is some kind of holdover from the weed. But I do need to figure out what I’m doing for childcare for the near future, while we are working this case, and then the summer. It didn’t used to be such a thing. I mean, I just did it.”

  “How long will the inquiry go on? Will the CBI take it over completely, or what?”

  “I think they’d head it up and we’d assist. And we’d keep going a few weeks anyway, until we solve it, or until every lead is cold. Which is what I’m afraid will happen. Poor guy.”

  “Well—”

  “Naomi, don’t worry, I’m not going to ask if she can stay up here. It wouldn’t be fair on you if this happens again, and I don’t think it’s what’s best for her anyway. Though she’d love it; I think she needs to be at home. So. I’ve been thinking that I should just go back on dispatch. We’ve got an opening for the day shift, and I think I should just take it. It’d be a drop back down in salary, of course, but the peace of mind … I’d be there for them. Both of them.”

  “Yeah,” she mused. She reached to deadhead a petunia in a pot next to her chair. We sat in silence a few moments, birdcalls and water echoing over the patio, the chatter of the kids as they played with the dogs. It was warm, the hills throwing back dusty heat and the scent of juniper and sage.

  “Could you not call your mom, Shan? Just this once, have her come up for a few weeks, help out? I’m sure she’d love to spend time with her grandkids, see you—right?”

  It was a good idea in theory, of course, the obvious solution. But I don’t ‘do’ visits with my parents. My mom and dad are still married, in name only; they have separate lives that started back with the earthquake-rift that was Danny’s death. If I called on them for help, I wasn’t even sure what kind of reaction I’d get.

  “I don’t know. You know how they are. I’d rather—I don’t know—pay someone to look after Margo than inflict my mom on her. Besides, I’m pretty sure she’s zapped out of her mind on Valium most of the time. So, not too helpful.”

  “It was just a thought. Maybe your mom would welcome a chance to show up for you, though. You know? Bygones? I’m sure she’s not proud of the way she sort of left you on your own after your brother died. Somewhere in there, just like you, she wanted to do better.”

  The words caught me under the ribs. Fluttering, sad-hopeful. Could I stand to ask and be disappointed? Could I hear her ‘oh honey, I would, but I can’t, not now’ and shrug it off like I always had, especially now when I really needed it? Could I stand to be in the same house with her, seeing myself in her, in all her failings? It’s not for you, a new inner voice said. It’s for Dan. It’s for Margo.

  “Yeah. Okay.” I squeezed Naomi’s hand. This is why I love her: she is such a good, honest friend. “Thanks, Naomi. For everything, always.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  That evening we played croquet, and Dan shredded us all, even one-handed. We made pizza from scratch; Margo over the moon with the realization that pizza was a thing that people actually made. Naomi told her stories of her Italian side of the family and promised to teach her to make ravioli someday, too. We all helped with evening chores, Dan feeding dogs, Margo helping to put the hens away, myself and Naomi feeding horses. No one wanted to leave and so we stayed. The kids went down to the swimming hole in the twilight to look for the big trout that lurked there, and Naomi and I once again settled at the table on the porch. She lit a citronella candle against the mosquitoes and the warm, lemony scent rose up into the deepening blue evening air.

  “Have you heard from Blair?” I asked. He was Naomi’s sort-of boyfriend, a 6’6” real life Australian blond surfer type that she’d met a year ago in Steamboat. They’d connected at the hot springs there, the funky one up from the town, and he’d moved in the next weekend. Putting every woman in Gold Creek—me included—on a kind of permanent high school oh my god, I’m, like, so totally jealous type of vibe. He was a surf-poster fantasy come to life. He was actually a really sweet guy and had thrown some money Naomi’s way to redo the horse barn and get a couple of new horses. Trust fund kid, bumming his way around the cool towns of the world and breaking hearts as he went.

  Her mouth twitched into a little smile—sad, not secret. “Not for a while now. I think he’s still in California.” She shrugged. “Whatever. He never made me any promises.”

  “But he said he’d come back, right? How long has it been now—six months?”

  “Yeah,” she smoothed her dark hair away from her forehead with slim brown fingers. “Something like that. I never thought he would come back, you know, but he called so often in the beginning. He was like a little kid, wanting to tell me all his stories. I’m sure he’s got a few women on a string by now; he’s been in San Diego for a couple of months. If he’s even still there. This isn’t the place for a guy like him. It was a fling. A fun one. I just wish I hadn’t let myself fall for him.”

  “Like we can help these things.” Jerome’s lean, golden body flashed in my mind. “I think he was really into you, for what it’s worth. He was sweet, actually, for being such a dude.”

  “He was. And he helped me out a lot. I’d never have pulled together the money to redo that barn and get Sophie and Gadget. It was thousands, and he wrote me a check like it was nothing. ‘I didn’t earn my money,’ he used to say. ‘Why should I keep it all for myself?’”

  “And are you making progress on the equine therapy thing? Did you get ahold of that woman you wanted to study with, in Vermont?”

  Naomi sat forward and her eyes lit up. “I did! She’s doing her very first course to teach other women in August. She’s written a book and I ordered it a couple of days ago from the bookstore in Steamboat. Which brings me to an idea I had yesterday, before you guys came up.” She paused, looked at me slantwise.

  “What? You know I’ll help, if I can.”

  “Do you think Dan would want to stay up here, take care of the animals, for the two weeks I’d be gone? I mean, Alejandro does all the fence work, repairs, that sort of thing, and he’d be checking in daily. But since Dan’s MC job went sort of south with the accident … I could pay him, and it would only be a couple of weeks, but it would be good experience for him. And his arm should be completely healed by then, right? Maybe he could even start coming up sometimes before I go … to have a little job.”

  The thought of Dan way up here by himself actually didn’t thrill me, not after the week we’d had. But he would love it, and it would be great for him to have some responsibility. And most important, of course, it would help Naomi out. She rarely asked for any help, stubborn and capable as she was—kind of like me, I suppose—and I wouldn’t deny her or Dan just because I had the heebie-jeebies. August was almost two months off and we’d be weeks past the case, whatever happened, and the bad luck it seemed to have brought with it.

  “Why not?” I said. “Ask him, but it’s a great idea, and fine with me. Margo will be completely jealous.”

  “Which brings me to my other thought. I’m sure I’ll need to practice on people, you know, learning this therapy. What do you think about me working with Margo, when I get back? Not for this sleep walking thing, but, well, to help her work with these abilities she seems to have. Help her integrate them. Or whatever.” Her voice hesitant, respectful of my hovering mother bear where Margo was concerned.

  “Huh. Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t hurt her, right? I mean, it’s supposed to be a therapy, an alternative to blah blah blah with Mr. Psychiatrist, right?”

  “Absolutely. It’s amazing for kids who feel victimized or somehow dis-empowered … not saying that’s Margo, but you know, it helps with confidence, esteem, inner balance … I mean, I do know enough from other reading and having those sessions myself with that woman in Montrose … I could work with her a little now, if you wanted. Nothing bad would happen …what’s to lose?” She gripped the edge of the table and looked at me straight, brown eyes big, excited, watchful. “Both my girls
are amazing horses for this type of work, but Gadget would be the one, for Margo … well, tell me what you think.”

  I was quiet, watched the kids down by the swimming hole, searching the deep spot under a half dead log for the trout. Dan’s hair flopping brown-gold over his face, his hand on Margo’s shoulder, their earnest talk together. He was so here, so present for her. I felt an ache for Danny, the empty throb that lay down deep in my belly, the one that never went away. He’d been like that for me, a hero, a presence, that kept my feet on the ground, kept me safe. But I knew that Dan needed to just be a teenager. However much he loved his sister—and I thanked whatever gods there were daily for that—he wouldn’t always be there for her, shouldn’t have to be. If there was something Naomi could do, with her beautiful horses and her heart filled with golden intentions, to bring Margo into herself more and away from the shadowy ghosts and visions and knowing she seemed to have, why would I not jump at that chance?

  “I think that’s an amazing idea,” I said at last, loving the joy that lit up my friend’s face. “You are the best thing to happen to my kids in a long time. Let’s walk down and ask them.” I smiled and we went down to the swimming hole, arm in arm.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Hey guys,” I said, coming into the outer office, attempting light and airy but to my own ears sounding like a cartoon girl-band character. It was only 9 a.m. but Eli was already at the dispatch desk typing, and Joe stood in the door to Butch’s office, leaning against the jamb. He looked easy and comfortable, enough that I felt like I was interrupting precious boy time. I shook it off, remembering my new pact with myself to not be ‘the center of the bad universe.’

  “Hey Shan,” Eli said, without looking up. “Kids okay?”

  “Yep. All’s well. Both up at Naomi’s for the day.”

  I swept over to my desk, dropped my bag on the floor, went to get coffee. Just another day, play it regular, get the job done. Joe put on his ball cap and heaved himself off the wall. He said nothing to me, and I wondered if Butch had told him not to be a dick about my scare with Margo.

  “I’ll head out to the Ten Mile store,” he said to Eli, obviously in reference to a dispatch request. Eli nodded and Joe was gone.

  Butch called out, “Hey Shan, come on in when you’ve got a moment.”

  “Need coffee?”

  “God no, I’m awash already.”

  I finished the half and half, chucked the empty carton into the wastebasket. Went into Butch’s office, plopped in the chair next to his desk. Still going for casual, though I felt like a kid in the principal’s office, about to get put on notice for ditching school.

  He finished writing on his desk calendar and looked up to meet my eyes. “How’s Margo? How are you? It’s been a pretty crazy week in your world.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Look—I know that I haven’t been able to focus—”

  “Shannon, you’re not in trouble here. I honestly feel you’ve had a pretty stressful week. Six days ago you found a body in a terrible state. Both your kids have been in the hospital—”

  “I just feel bad, you know, that I’m not bringing my best to the case. For this poor guy and his family. But I’m ready to dig in today. The kids are up at Naomi’s, and I’m going to call my mom, see if she can come up for a week or so, or until we can get this case solved or handed over. I’d like to call a meeting, if I could, so that I can update you and Eli on what I found out Wednesday afternoon at the monastery, what I learned from Jerome that same night.” My face burned at the mention of his name, but I kept trying for bland and Butch didn’t seem to notice.

  “Yeah, we need a case meeting. But—what did Doc Ellis have to say about Margo’s episode, or whatever it was?”

  Good old-fashioned Butch; I loved him because he cared about people, and that’s what had gotten him elected sheriff for the last twenty-five years. I didn’t really want to talk about Margo’s sleep walking, but I’d been dreaming to think that it would be business as usual with only a day separating those desperate few hours and now.

  “Not much—but let’s gather and I can update you both on her and then we can get to the case update.”

  I called Eli over and grabbed my notes from my bag. Hopefully the dispatch radio would be quiet for a few moments and we could get through our meeting undisturbed.

  We settled in Butch’s office and I took a breath. “So, Margo is fine, no damage, no nothing of any kind, thank God, and Ellis thinks that she probably was sleep walking, and that’s how she ended up at the school.”

  “Damn.” Butch shook his head. “I still don’t know how Andy missed seeing her when he searched the school area. But thank goodness she was there. And that you thought to go back.”

  I nodded. I had wondered the same thing, but had no blame for Andy. Not when the whole situation was my fault. I swallowed some coffee and continued. “It’s a familiar place, she goes there all the time—that’s why Ellis thought she went there. I don’t know what I think about that as she’s never done it before, but there doesn’t seem to be any other reason. She’s been having dreams about the case all week,” I added, leaving out the ghostly details, “so maybe she’s picking up on my stress. Or something. When I get a minute, I’ll do more research on it. I tend to think it may be something left in her system from the pot brownies. But Ellis didn’t have an opinion on that.”

  “My little sister sleepwalked all the time,” Eli said. “She used to get up and like, cook stuff, or wash dishes. Pretty scary cause she’d leave the stove on, burned the hell out of a couple of pans, that kind of thing. Drove my parents nuts ‘til she quit it. She was about Margo’s age when it started, maybe a bit younger. Lasted a couple years. No reason anybody could find.”

  “Really? Wow. I had no idea people did things other than walk around.” I shuddered to think of Margo—asleep—running a bath or lighting the stove while I was working some night.

  We batted a few ideas around about kids and sleep before I steered us back to the investigation.

  “I found out quite a lot Wednesday. I think we have some good leads now and I’m convinced that Choden was killed because of the Unfolding Lotus sutras. However weird we find that, it’s the thread that connects everything. You guys know about the impound on the Subaru, right?” They both nodded.

  “Fran left the message,” Butch said. “Jim’s on this other case now for the foreseeable, but he promised to get to us as soon as he could. Hopefully Saturday.” Butch grimaced and Eli and I both groaned. It was the usual feeding frenzy for state resources, as most of the rural, understaffed counties in Colorado didn’t have crime scene teams of their own. “But the car’s safe enough in the county yard,” Butch continued, “so we’ll get what we get when we get it. Once we’ve got an agent here, we may get moved up the ladder a notch.”

  “Moving on, then. Eli—did you have a chance to check local restaurant menus for any versions of lentils and potato stew that Choden could have eaten?”

  “Yeah, as you thought, not a lentil in sight.”

  “Good, because they definitely served it for lunch last Friday at the monastery. And Choden was there, because our boy Steven—Choden’s buddy—had a falling out with him that very morning, and bitched to Jerome about it at lunch, in fact. Choden was absolutely alive and at the monastery Friday, he ate lentils and potatoes—though no one claims to have seen him—and therefore, according to Kyle’s timing, was dead by 4 p.m. Give or take, depending on exactly when he ate. But 5 p.m. at the outside.”

  Eli whistled. “What the hell? And Steven’s only telling us now about this? That’s a big omission. Especially since he held out on being Choden’s friend in the first place.”

  “Well, Jerome told me all this. But, I know, I know. And Jerome claims he didn’t remember this conversation when he and I talked the first time.” I rubbed my forehead. I was still irritated with Jerome about this, even though I had been more than willing to sleep with him. I let the anger fuel me anyway. “Memory is tricky, bu
t I’m starting to wonder if all these guys aren’t in on some big conspiracy to take over the Chinese government with these sutras.”

  The guys laughed, but it was rueful and half-hearted. I pressed on.

  “We’ve got to re-check alibis for Friday afternoon, now that we’ve narrowed this time of death window. Tenzin was in town picking up a food order—I made a quick call to Stewart’s this morning to confirm that—and he’d had to take the van because the Subaru was gone but not logged out. The Rinpoche was in meetings, and Tenzin says he saw Rabten up in his room, at the window. This was around 2 p.m. The car was already gone. We’ve got to talk to all of them again. But I think that Lobsang and Steven are the most obvious suspects at this point.”

  “So, what you are saying,” Butch said, taking a sip of coffee, “is that someone took Choden up to the County Park in the early afternoon on Friday, killed him up there and dismembered the body in broad daylight? Leaving no trace and not being seen?”

  “It has to be. There’s just no other explanation. And,” I remembered Jerome’s quote from Sherlock Holmes, “when the impossible has been eliminated, what remains, however improbable, has to be the answer. Or something.” I smiled lamely. “Somebody said that, I think it was Sherlock Holmes.”

  The guys were silent as they took in what I was saying.

  “That took some balls,” Eli finally said.

  “And then some,” Butch added. “Look—our guy would have been covered in blood. There’s no way he would’ve gone back down that trail with a bloody cleaver and the clothes he did it in. The dogs didn’t find a weapon or a stash of clothes. And he had the victim’s clothes as well. So where did he put them? We checked the trash dumpsters at the park on the day you found him, trash cans at houses along the road, and Jim went through the dumpsters at the monastery, but we’re going to have to—what, get out to the dump at this point?—to locate those clothes.”