Was this the right time to tell Rita that Jerry was her biological father? She’d have to think about it. Gerald would have to be told. Barry too. She’d held on to this secret for twenty-three years. How were they going to feel about her? She felt like she’d OD’d on frustration. Floyd, draped over the couch back, purred. She went over to him.
“I guess you can’t help me with anything, can you, Floyd, ole cat?”
Damn, why did Gerald have to call? She needed to concentrate on Gina and the mysteries surrounding her death. She didn’t want to think about him or the possibility of him asking questions about Rita. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. It was all too painful.
The phone rang, startling her. “Crap.” When she answered, she heard nothing but a dial tone. “This is getting ridiculous. Who could be doing this?” Gerald? She hoped he was too mature for that. It must be Eva. Sunny decided she’d done enough thinking for now. Unless someone confessed, there was no way to prove who it was.
That didn’t stop her from thinking it had to be Eva.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Needing to do laundry, Sunny headed for the bedroom and opened the closet door to grab her jeans. She searched the pockets, turning them inside out. As her hands fumbled, something crinkled beneath her fingertips. She took it out and saw the tissue containing the pink papers. “There you are.”
Her hands began to tingle. Initially she felt drawn to them only because they were in Gina’s house. But now her senses were exploding.
For some reason a rush of adrenaline had her feeling strange, as saliva filled her mouth. She felt shaken as she looked at her hands and was surprised they were steady. Leaving one strand of hair to twist around her finger, she pushed the rest from her face and retied it in a tight bun.
Carefully she opened the tissue. She had kept the torn bits of paper she’d found to herself. It was up to her to put them together. She felt that they were important. It could be a letter the boys wrote to their mother. Gina had said they wrote her all the time. Or maybe it was something else. So many things were going on right now. It could be anything.
She didn’t know what she’d find by arranging the different shapes. She thought it could be a grocery list, until the skin on her neck started to prickle. Her gut feelings were jump-started.
Moving to the kitchen table she started to work on the papers. She spread them out, found her purse, and took out the tweezers. Some were small, others only slightly bigger. The scraps were hard to maneuver on the table. “This isn’t going to work.”
Returning to the laundry room, she found a square cardboard pizza box that she flattened. Scrounging around, she found a tape dispenser in one of the drawers.
Tools in hand, she returned to the kitchen and began to move the pieces around on the cardboard, trying to make sense of the handwriting on each piece.
Gently, she laid them out one by one, like a jigsaw puzzle, smoothing them with her fingertips. In search of … she didn’t know what. She had a strange feeling: a direction to take, and she desperately needed the distraction they provided to get her mind off her internal pain. She focused hard, determined to make the pieces connect. There were no easy answers.
The cat jumped on her lap. She placed him on the floor.
One piece had the letters oy. What could they mean? Sunny worked on it for a while. They were so small she could barely make out what was on them. Progress seemed impossible. “Oh, Gina, please come help me, please. Help me to know what I have here,” she muttered.
Finally she began to make some progress. The note or letter or whatever it was started to come together, the letter I, and there were two ing’s, an a. She didn’t know if these were parts of the letter Gina had left. Why would they be in the trash? She pulled out a strand of her long hair and chewed the end, trying to think of all the possibilities. Sunny took out her notebook in which she’d recorded conversations overheard from people who were at the party. She included Gina’s argument, overheard by Gerald, and the words Gina’s spirit had whispered in the wind.
Sunny took a page from her notebook and wrote what Gina had told Victor was in the note to Jesse. She tried to come up with letters that made sense. She managed to get some words: and and the. Then she moved the scraps of papers around, trying to line up the edges, like on a puzzle. The combinations were endless. Tired, rubbing her aching shoulders, she decided to stop. This is going to take longer than I imagined. She put everything away in the hall closet, careful not to disturb anything on the cardboard.
She relaxed for a while. Her neck and fingers began to tingle and her hands felt shaky. Contemplating what to do, she went back to the closet and reached in for the board, compelled to work with the crumpled paper.
She spent most of the morning fitting small pieces together. “This is a tedious job. Why am I doing this? It could be a waste of time.” Finally, those placed next to each other became clearer. She saw what she had so far, vor, ta, ke, and the. Now excited, she said, “What have I found? This has to be part of a letter, and it’s certainly not a grocery list. Is it from Gina, or her boys? I haven’t a clue what it means yet but I’m going to find out.”
Trying to come up with more words, she scattered them. She felt someone standing over her right shoulder. She turned around, but no one was there. “Oh, Gina, I hope it’s you.” Sunny continued trying different combinations of the tiny scraps to form words. She’d been at it for hours and was exhausted.
The door opened and Rita hurried in. “Hi, I left the key to the supply room in my bedroom. I’ll only be a minute.”
“Sure, fine,” Sunny said absently. Then she felt her stomach roll. Again she felt like someone was behind her. Once again she checked, thinking maybe Rita had come out of her bedroom. No one was there.
As she put her hands on the papers she felt a force guiding her hands. “I feel like I’m on a Ouija board,” she said.
Her hand went to the papers spelling ett ing. She had found those letters before but didn’t have a clue what they meant. Now things began to make more sense. She had the letters vor ce and b oys. The feeling of someone’s presence behind her was gone. Sunny smiled. “Thank you, Gina.”
She closed her eyes. Startled, she heard Floyd jump onto the table and start to purr. “Shoo.” She waved him off. He jumped off the cardboard and the table, taking a few shreds with him.
“Darn cat!” Sunny yelled and stood. “I’m gonna strangle you.” She looked down at the pieces Floyd had walked over. The tiny bits of paper that clung to his paws now stuck to the carpet. Floyd stared at her, then jumped back onto the table. She picked up papers from the floor, looked at the table, and saw the letters d and i. She glanced around the room and whispered, “Gina?” She stared into Floyd’s eyes, then put her hand over her mouth. Was it Gina? She placed those two letters back on the board. Next to the other letters she recognized the word divorce. It seemed to appear like magic … or an omen. Gina?
Rita came into the kitchen. “What’s going on? What’s the matter?”
Sunny put them on the table and pushed the cardboard over to her. “Look at this! Floyd moved these pieces around, and these were stuck on his paws.”
Rita stared at the word. “Divorce! Was Gina planning to divorce Jesse? What other words do you have? Mom, this is important. Gina had to have written this.”
Sunny looked at her. “Remember when Victor came the first time and he told us what Gina said she wrote? Well, I jotted it down in my notebook, so I wrote it out again and now it makes more sense.”
Rita kept looking at the table. “I hope now it will all come together. Before I leave, do you want me to help you? I’m good with puzzles. I can tape things into place.”
Sunny leaned over the table. “Thanks, but I feel like I need to do this myself.”
“I think you’re right about things not adding up,” Rita said as she dragged the chair over to the table. Stretching her legs straight out in front of her, she chewed on her bottom lip.
Sunny took a deep breath. “I found these words take and gett and another ing on the pieces. This isn’t making any sense. I wonder if this could be a practice letter Gina wrote before she … well, you know. I’m trying to connect these letters and words, but it’s hard. I don’t have the answers yet.”
“I can see it’s not a list. I think it is her letter, but why would it be shoved in a wastebasket?” asked Rita.
Sunny rolled her shoulders up and down. “I’m tired. I need to stop for now. But let’s go to the store and get some soda. The sugar will help pick me up.”
After paying for the soda, chips, and dish soap they were ready to leave, when they passed tribal police deputy Joe Brown. He was tall, with thin eyes and a gray mustache. Sunny stopped. She had the bag of groceries in her hands. Now or never.
Reaching deep for her courage she approached him so he couldn’t walk past her without shoving her out of the way.
“Deputy Brown. Why did you drop Gina Wilson’s suicide case?”
Agitated he answered, “Because it was suicide. There was a note. End of story.”
“Did you investigate?” she fired back.
He looked sheepish, and his face turned a soft shade of pink. He shouted at her, “We did our job.”
“Not in this case. It wasn’t suicide.” Sunny switched the grocery bag to her hip and stormed out. Rita was right behind her.
In the car Sunny turned to Rita. “See I told you they don’t listen unless the evidence is sitting in front of them. Hopefully, I’ll find some evidence so I can make Deputy Brown eat his words.
Sitting at the table and drinking her soda, Rita finger-combed her hair. “I wonder what it is. Did the boys write it? Or was Jesse writing to another woman? Why would Gina write a suicide note and throw it away? Would anyone do that? None of this makes sense.”
“There are too many possibilities. I found the word take. Some of these only have one letter on them. It’s hard arranging them to know how to mix them up or what order to put them in. Besides, maybe parts are missing.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll work it out.” Rita stood and leaned over to give her mom a hug. “Mom, sorry. This is all so hard … and sad. Maybe these are clues. If you need help later …”
“Soon it will start coming together. I just feel, no, I know, that the answers are in those bits of paper. If it’s incriminating I’ll go to the police and the BIA. Putting all this together is stressful, and I have to be correct on everything. I have to be able to back it up and prove everything I say.”
“You’ll figure it out. You’ve always been good at solving problems. Catch you later.”
Sunny exhaled and read a few of the letters in the note. She watched Floyd and wondered if Gina had anything to do with him and those pieces. He started licking himself. Maybe not, and she giggled. She picked up the cardboard square to set the small parts on the cardboard and smoothed the end of the tiny shreds again and again. After a while she put together a word: b-o-y-s.
“Hot damn. It reads boys.” She jumped out of her chair. “Is it possible?”
She stared at the board. There it was: take, boys, divorce, and gett. She was stunned. She looked around like she expected someone to help her.
Shaking, she went into the other room.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Sunny called her friend. “Barb, can you come over right away? I need to talk to you. It’s important.” Barb was her best friend in the world at that moment.
“Fire up Mr. Coffee,” said Barb. “I’m on my way.”
Sunny put on a pot of coffee, set the table, and got out a carrot cake, all the while thinking about the paper and words she had managed to put together. But letters, or words, for that matter, could be put in different combinations and form or imply different things. Did she even have the right ones? And if she did, what did they mean?
There was a knock and Barbara entered and draped her Donna Karan jacket on the back of the chair before she sat.
“Okay, what’s going on? You sounded strange. Look at you. Are you all right? We’ve been friends too long. I know when something’s going on.”
Sunny started at the beginning, first with the torn papers she’d found at Gina’s house, the hang-ups, and the ramming of her rental car, and her tires slashed. She ended with Gerald’s unexpected and unwelcome call.
Agitated, Sunny retrieved the cardboard box with the taped shreds of paper. She showed Barbara the torn ones she’d put together.
“Look.” She pointed. “I also found divorce and g-e-t-t. But I could have put the letters together wrong. What do you think?”
“It must be something. You do have a lot of different letters. You have several a’s and ing’s. It’s tough to know.”
“Yes, but it feels right. I matched the jagged edges, and I wrote down what Victor told me Gina said she wrote in the note for Jesse. She said she was going to take the boys and get a divorce.”
“Look, if you took one of these ing’s and put it with g-e-t-t, you see you have getting.”
“Wow, that’s take, boys, getting, and divorce. Damn, girl, what have I found? It practically says the whole thing.”
Barbara’s mouth turned up in a half-smile. “Intriguing,” she said and stroked her chin. “You have a genuine mystery here.”
“I’m serious, Barb. Why would somebody tear these papers up so small? I don’t think Gina did a practice letter before she killed herself. Do you?”
Barbara’s smile disappeared. “You sound like you aren’t convinced Gina killed herself.”
Sunny shook her head. “I don’t know what to believe. Now that I have the words, I know Jesse would go apeshit if Gina said she was divorcing him. You know how he is. He never mentioned divorce, or taking the boys, in Gina’s letter. We have two different stories. I have to be sure, really sure. I don’t want to jump to conclusions.”
Barbara eyed the scraps, with words out of order, the ones Sunny had put together. “You have a lot to put together. The evidence has to be flawless.”
Sunny put her coffee down and pushed back her chair. “Have more cake while I reheat your coffee.”
Again, Barbara looked at the layout. “Why put them in a wastebasket if you were trying to hide them? If what you say is true, why not throw them in the garbage or dumpster? Or burn them? Why take a chance of someone finding them?”
Barbara and Sunny studied the papers. “Hmmm.”
All the same, Barb had put a voice to Sunny’s thoughts. Barbara glanced at the table. “Maybe someone threw them away in a hurry and forgot to go back and take them out.”
“Or they were drunk,” said Sunny. “And I just happened to be in the bathroom when I discovered the papers. People were going in and out of there all day.”
She held the box of Marlboros out to Barbara, shook one out for her, and then took a cigarette for herself. Sunny wondered that she’d come so far both with and without smoke or cigarettes in her life. How long would it take to stop? How long this time?
She was exhausted, stressed, and also scared. Puffing on a cigarette right now was the least of her worries, and yet, as the smoke curled up and around her, she couldn’t help but think about the traditions of smoke and ceremonies throughout her childhood. Smoke was comfort, and spirit healing, and peace. It represented safety and guidance.
Sunny knew she would eventually need to win the battle to quit smoking. Her health was important, but right now she needed the crutch. She knew she would do it, but couldn’t even think about that until she solved Gina’s mystery and helped Gina’s spirit find peace and move on.
While she sat smoking, Barbara read the notebook that Sunny had kept, with all the comings and goings.
Finally, Sunny said, “I have to get my hands on the letter Gina left for Jesse.”
Barbara continued holding her cigarette in one hand while reading. She tapped her long ash into the ashtray. “Sounds like a good idea, if they have it. But I don’t know if the police or BIA will show it to you. I g
uess we could assume Eva is the one who hit your car, and is also doing the hang-ups.”
“Agreed. I’m talking to her first, and it won’t be pretty. Then I’ll go talk to the others who were at the party.”
“Be careful. Eva is three kinds of crazy.”
Sunny nodded and laughed.
Barbara held the book with both hands and gave it back to Sunny. “Now, let’s get back to Gerald.”
“I don’t know what to do. Rita and Barry know her biological dad is named Jerry, but I don’t think they’ve made the connection, and I don’t know how to explain it to them. Especially Gerald.”
“What! Are you kidding? You never told him about Rita?”
“No! Remember, when I told him I might be pregnant? He went off the deep end. By the time I found out for sure, we’d broken up and he’d left town. So I didn’t mention it. I’ve seen him a few times over the years, but never with Rita. It was a quick hello, blah, blah, and goodbye.”
“Good God, Sunny! What were you thinking? I just assumed you told him years ago. What are you going to do now?”
“It’s why I called you. I’ve kept this secret way too long. You’re the therapist. What will it do to Rita and Barry when I tell them?”
“Piss ’em off.”
“Not funny, Barb. I’m worried. I told you what Gerald said when he noticed Rita. He’d ask her out if he wasn’t old enough to be her dad.”
“Yuck. Let’s take one thing at a time. There’s no hurry about Gerald. You’ve waited this long, you can wait awhile longer. I agree with you. Go talk to Eva. Check with everyone at the party. You know who they are. Go to the police and see if you can take a look at Gina’s letter to Jesse. Didn’t you say the cops took the letter Gina left? Or does Jesse have it?”
“Jesse said the police took it.”
“Don’t tell him or anyone else you have those papers.” Barbara stood and put on her jacket. “I’m sorry. I have an appointment with a client this afternoon. Let me know what happens. You should tell Rita and Barry before this blows up in your face. And please, please be careful.”
Whispers in the Wind Page 14