ON ROSE BEFORE THE SUN DID. He had plenty to do before Cecily arrived. Since Monica, he’d never been out with a woman, and was quite unsure of himself. The house was quiet. Alan let the children sleep in on Saturdays, at least until nine.
The lawn needed its first trim of the season. Don found the mower buried in the garage, cleaned the filter, replaced the gas and oil, gathered up the bikes and boards from off the grass and started mowing. Before long, the entire household was awake. The children started in on their chores as Don finished edging.
By ten he was showered and ready to go. Cecily was late, so Christina and the boys decided to start out ahead. Christina placed the small cooler that held their lunch next to the one Don had borrowed from Kate.
Alan exited the house to survey the yard. He seemed pleased by the freshly mowed lawn. Don spoke first. “Alan, do you think there’s a bike around here I could use to ride to work?”
Alan smiled. “Sure, I don’t use mine much. You can borrow it.” Was this the same Alan who was so upset about his robe? Don thanked him as Cecily drove up. She turned off the Jeep and hopped out.
“Have a fun time,” Alan called out as he disappeared around the corner of the house.
“The kids decided to go on ahead,” explained Don.
“Let’s walk!” Cecily suggested, anxious to be on their way.
Don didn’t need any persuading. He bent down and picked up the coolers while Cecily took a blanket from the back seat. Then they started out on foot.
Alan, the inspection of the lawn complete, strolled inside. Kate was busy finishing the dishes from the late-waking children. Most of them had scattered to different places in the house and yard.
“Don asked me if he could borrow a bike to get to work,” Alan told his wife.
“What did you tell him?”
“That he could use mine.”
Kate’s expression took on a puzzled look. “Why the change of heart?”
“He’s done his best to help around here. He does dishes, helps keep the place clean, and this morning he did the yard. He must be growing up.”
“He’s always been responsible, honey,” Kate replied. “You’ve just had a hard time seeing past the rough edges.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
The walk, the weather, and most of all the company was pleasant. Don and Cecily chatted and laughed as they walked along. They also savored the silence. He thought of taking her hand, but, carrying both coolers, figured it was too awkward. Cecily had decided to allow Don to take the lead in their relationship, at least for the day. Out of habit, he walked the way of his and Christina’s nightly strolls. A moving van was parked in the driveway of the apartment they had stopped to see earlier.
“That’s odd,” Don commented.
“What?”
“These people just moved in a few days ago. I wonder if they’re
moving out or moving more stuff in.” Don turned and watched as they continued on down the sidewalk. The distraction made him step slightly to one side and his foot slipped off the curb. The downward jolt knocked one of the coolers from his hand and it bounced on the asphalt. “You’d think I was drunk,” he laughed, embarrassed.
“You drink?” Clearly she was taken aback by his offhanded admission, as her strict religious belief crept to the surface.
Don searched her eyes. Was her question on the level, or was she just messing around? Maybe it was best to let her know what to expect of him right up front. He shrugged. “On occasion I have a few beers.”
“Is that why you lost your license?”
Don wasn’t in the mood to have to defend himself. “Not really.”
Cecily didn’t take the hint—and wasn’t about to drop the subject. She was starting to like him and wanted to have an idea of who she might be involved with. “So how did you lose it?” she pried.
Don took in a deep breath, blew it out, and launched into the story. He finished with the day he stepped into her office—having skipped the lurid details of the county lock up. He had included, however, the part about needing a place to live within a few more weeks.
“How old were you when you married Monica?”
“Seventeen.”
Cecily began to compute his age in her head. “So you must be about thirty.”
“Twenty-nine, to be exact.” He could tell by her look the years didn’t add up.
“Oh, Monica was eight months pregnant when we got married. Her parents put a lot of pressure on her to put the baby up for adoption and not get married, since she was only sixteen. I was young and stupid; my brain was run by other forces, mostly her gorgeous body. I would have killed for her. She was always mad at me for ruining her chances to be a professional model. She already had an agent. Her parents always tried to use her desire to model to keep her away from me.”
“How long were you married?”
“Up until three months ago.”
Cecily seemed surprised it had been such a short time since their divorce.
“At least that’s when the divorce became final,” Don added. “We were apart a lot longer than that.”
Stacey spent the morning of his day off trying to “Sig-proof” the yard. For over three months he’d had no reason to leave the dog at home, and now he was even smarter than he was before. Stacey first closed the gate and told Sig goodbye. By the time he reached his pickup, however, Sig had already jumped the fence, torn around the other way, and was sitting in the bed of the truck, ready to go. Stacey didn’t want to keep Sig inside for fear he’d be bored, nor was he willing to test, literally, the captain’s orders “to lock him up,” so his preference was to leave him in the back yard. Sig could tell something was up and didn’t want to be left behind.
“You can’t go, boy.” Sig tilted his head to the side and stopped panting to hear what his master had to say. “Come, Sig,” Stacey commanded.
Sig bounded out of the truck and followed Stacey to the back, through the open door and into the garage. “Enter,” Stacey pointed.
Sig instantly obeyed, then turned around to look as Stacey closed the door on him. “It hurts me as much as it does you.” As he walked away, Stacey turned to see his partner peering out the small, dirty window that stood about four feet off the ground.
“See you in a couple of hours, boy.”
Stacey climbed into the oldest car on the force. Being the youngest officer, that’s the way it’d be until he got some seniority. Revving up the old Chrysler, he headed for the Reid place.
Don and Cecily reached the edge of the wooded area. Cecily noticed a large log laying in the shade of the trees. “We have all morning,” she said, laying out the blanket. “Now I’m ready to hear the whole thing.”
Don relented. “We’d been married about three years when Monica became restless. I was working from sun up ’til sun down driving for Granger Rock. Monica loved to dance—the best dancer I ever saw. Of course, I was exhausted by the time I got off work and only wanted to go out on weekends. But not her. She would leave Christina at Kate’s and slip away with her friends. I’d pick up little ‘Tina after work and go home, cook supper, do the dishes, put her to bed...I was both father and mother. At first it only happened once in a while. I’d get after Monica and accuse her of seeing other guys. She always denied it. I got tired of it, we’d have a big argument, and she’d stop for a while.
“Finally we were able to afford a house. They weren’t near as expensive then as they are now. For a few years everything was better, then it started all over again. One night I decided to see where she was going. I followed her and her friends down to Lamar’s. When I went in, there she was, dancing way too friendly with some cowboy, rubbing up against him....I should have walked out right then and filed for divorce....” Don paused to get a drink from the cooler.
Cecily, who had hung on every word, asked, “What happened?” “Instead, I walked out on the dance floor and yanked her away. The cowboy had no idea she was married to me, so we got into it. Before the police cuffed me, I broke one jaw, smashed out some teeth, clobbered three cowboys and a bouncer. I got three days in jail for it.” Cecily winced.
“We made up and things got better for a while. Then a few months later she started going out again, and before long she was leaving for two, three days at a time. I didn’t have a clue where she was going until one of my buddies told me they saw her at a dance hall in Salt Lake. So one night I decided to take a ride and see if she was there. I saw her friend’s car. I thought it would be smart to wait outside so I could confront her alone, and everything would be fine—until she came out with a cowboy, his hands all over her. I lost it again and beat the guy to a pulp. Got two weeks for assault and battery. Things went downhill from there. I suspected she was doing drugs—she couldn’t explain where our money was going, things like that. But again she apologized and promised she’d change. I caught her twice more before two years went by. I wasn’t much better—arrested twice more for assault. I just didn’t want to let her go.”
Don’s voice softened. The pain was still etched in his face. Cecily remained quiet.
“The beginning of the end was one afternoon when I dropped by the house. I was pouring concrete at a house nearby and stopped to grab a sandwich. Abrand new Dodge pickup was parked in my drive. I crept into the house and heard them in the bedroom.” He stopped and took a sip of his pop.
Officer Stacey knocked on the door of the Reid home and waited. The front window had been boarded up. Small shards of glass lay on the porch, glittering in the sun.
Mrs. Reid’s gruff voice came from inside. “It’s nailed shut. You gotta come ‘round the back.”
Stacey stepped off the porch and walked around the back. When he reached the top of the stairs Mrs. Reid opened the door. The skin around her eye was violet, the swelling mostly gone. Her lip was still swollen and cracked.
“Good morning, Mrs. Reid. I’m Officer Stacey.”
“Yeah, the one with the dog. I know who you are.” The distaste in her tone was filled with bitterness. “I ain’t supposed to talk to nobody about nothin’.”
Stacey swallowed and dove in. “The captain wants me to make sure you know what you should say if you’re questioned again,” he insisted, trying to sound like he was in on the scheme.
The woman fairly spat out the words. “How many times does he gotta tell me? You gonna smack me too?”
“No, no,” Stacey reassured her. “Just review with me one more time what you’re supposed to say.”
She rolled her eyes. “If it’ll make you happy—and make you go away! Okay. I didn’t get off work ’til midnight....It was twelvethirty when I got here....Howard was drinkin’ the whiskey he took
from the Chevy—the capt’n told me to say that....He woke up about
six in the morning and beat twenty bucks outta me for more
whiskey....Is that good enough?” Her last question was sarcastic to
the bone.
Stacey gave a subtle nod. “And what’re you supposed to say about
the clothes and the gun we found in the vent?”
“He ain’t said nothin’ about ‘em.”
“We’ll let you know what to say.”
She watched him turn to leave. All the way to his car and as he
drove away, she watched, the contempt spilling from her eyes.
Don put down the drink and went on. “I was half broken, half angry. I couldn’t go in the bedroom without killing them both, so I went back out to my cement truck and—and almost cried. Probably would have if I hadn’t already known she’d been sleeping around. Sitting there in my truck, the only thing I could think to do was to dump my load right through the window of that shiny green pickup.”
Cecily’s eyes grew big.”You didn’t!”
“I did. Poured it all in—all I had in the drum. All four tires blew out, the back window broke and the bed filled up. A ‘97, full-size pickup can hold about five and a half yards before the doors blow off.” The corners of Don’s mouth turned upward. “The time I got for destruction of private property was the easiest two weeks I ever did. Almost a pleasure!”
Don’s face turned serious again. “The plant’s insurance paid for my sweet revenge, but I was fired. Nine years on the job, then, poof!, nothing.”
“I can’t believe you did that.” Cecily’s smile had returned, her fingers flirting with her hair, in turns curling and uncurling the ends.
“I can’t either, but it sure felt good. She’s the one that filed for divorce. I fought for ‘Tina for over a year. But because of my record, I lost the most important thing in my life. I paid alimony and child support and saw her every other weekend. Got a job at Ashrock trying to put my life back together. A month and a half ago I learned Monica had lost the house. She hadn’t made a single payment since I left. It was so far behind I could never have caught it up.”
“That is so sad.”
“I confronted her about the house the night I got pulled over.” He stood up and rubbed his backside. “What time is it?”
Cecily glanced at her watch. “Yikes! Almost twelve. I’ll bet the kids are hungry.” She stood and gathered her things.
Stacey swung by the hospital on his way to the station. Deek looked better than he did the night before. He glanced up from talking with his children. “Hey, Stace, how’d it go?”
Stacey nodded. “Good, real good.” Deek was anxious to hear what he had to say but couldn’t talk in front of his wife and kids.
“Dianne,” he said, “Stace and I have some things we need to talk over. Would you mind going and getting me some decent lunch— you know, burger, fries? This hospital food’s killing me.” Smiling, blowing a kiss and ushering the children out the door, she pulled it closed behind her. Deek was anxious to get up to speed. “So, what’d you find?”
“Hate to say it, but you were right. Bingham did smack her around. I think I asked too many questions when I talked about the clothes and gun. She said he hadn’t said anything about them.”
Deek was thinking. “Somehow we’ve got to get a sample of the fiber from the captain’s car and get the sweats into the lab in Provo and have them analyzed to see if they match. I’m sure Bingham didn’t have time to get rid of them before he left the impound area. He probably split in his vehicle, took off the dark sweats, then came back before they brought me here.” Deek’s face was squinched up, his mind in fifth gear. “I don’t think the captain was trying to kill me; he’s too good a shot. I think he just wanted to get out of the impound. I don’t think killing would be a problem for him if he got shoved in a corner, though. He’s told me he killed dozens in Vietnam.”
Stacey was trying to figure out a way to move the sweats from the evidence room to the Provo lab without Bingham’s knowledge, and how to get hold of his keys so he could take a fiber sample.
Don and Cecily made their way along the river bank toward the tree house. Cecily felt bad for Don and the troubles he’d been through, and wondered how she would fit into his life. He seemed like such a nice guy. “How’s your dad?”
“Not so well. I called last night. I don’t think he’ll live much longer. My mom and dad were divorced when I was five, and I don’t know my dad’s new wife too well. She seems to be doing okay.” He paused. “I thought Christina would have a hard time. She loves her grandpa, but seems to be doing better than I am. She says Alan’s been helping her understand, for whatever that’s worth.”
Cecily took Don’s lead. “Do you believe in God?”
“I guess so. I just didn’t ever do anything with it.”
“It?” Cecily asked. “Don, God’s not an ‘it.’”
“No, I didn’t mean God; I meant church,” Don explained. Cecily pondered what she’d heard, and Don figured a personal
example might help. “See, my dad’s from Argentina. He came here when he was 18 and joined the Mormon Church for a girl he’d met. She’d been a missionary and converted him to her faith. He was a Catholic but never believed the religion had anything for him. He didn’t stay with the Mormons for the same reason, and because he and the girl broke up.”
“My mom moved here from Portugal when she was 16. She belongs to the Catholic Church and always wanted us kids to go with her. By the time my mom and dad divorced, I refused to go to church at all. They never could agree on the subject of religion. You should have heard them fight. Mom yelling in Portuguese and Dad in Spanish. I never was quite sure what they were saying....”
“So you don’t speak either language?”
“Not a word. I understand a few things, but—”
Soon they were in sight of the tree house. The sound of pounding
“Hey, Uncle Don, watch this.” Jake, hanging above them, pushed off from the edge of the treehouse’s roof and glided down the rappelling rope, practically free falling. When he neared the ground, he braked with one hand to slow himself for a smooth landing.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to them doing that,” groaned Cecily. “That tree house is too high for me.”
Jake unhooked his safety gear and headed back up the ladder. “You hook the lunchboxes on to the rope and I’ll pull ‘em up.”
After a delicious lunch, the boys started in on a few repairs. Danny began pounding a nail. “Shiz!” he screamed, having pounded his thumb instead.
Now it was Cecily’s turn to rub it in. “Here,” she grinned, “I’ll teach you how to use that.” She snatched the hammer from his hand and, in three graceful strokes, drove the nail home.
“Whoa!” marveled Jake. “How’d you do that?”
“Lots of practice,” she gloated. “My dad’s a carpenter. I used to work for him in the summer. Here I’ll teach you.”
Soon Cecily had instructed them in the fine art of swinging a hammer to deliver the most forceful, accurate blow. Afterwards, she spoke to Danny. She hadn’t meant to show him up, and wanted to restore his confidence. “You make my heart half stop when you go down that rope. How did you get your father to let you do that?”
Danny brightened. “Jake’s a certified instructor, and I’m a certified lead climber.”
Jake broke in. “You’ve got to try it, Cecily! It’s such a rush.”
“Not me,” she answered, putting up her palms in a “stop-rightthere” pose.
Don, adding his persuasive powers, slowly made her hands rise higher in the air in surrender.
“Okay, but just once.” She struggled into the harness and climbed to the top of the roof. Danny went down first and “belayed”—held tight to the safety rope. Don tied himself in without a harness and steadied the rope. Christina looked on from the roof, where she, too, was securely tied.
Jake gave Cecily her final instructions and checked the harness. “You can go any time you’re ready.”
Cecily gritted her teeth. Her heart pounded in her chest. “No! I can’t do it!” she finally said, pulling herself back in.
“Girls!” Danny teased from below.
Don sidled up next to her. “You can do it,” he said, patting her arm. “Just let the fear out first.”
I’m not a quitter, Cecily thought to herself. Besides if these boys can do it, so can I.
She inched back into position. Summoning up every ounce of courage, she let go and pushed away, but her natural instincts kicked in and suddenly she clutched at the rope, sending herself spinning head over heels until she was dangling upside down.
Danny swallowed hard. “You’ve got to let go of the rope,” he called. “I’ve got you.”
Jake peered out over the edge of the treehouse and burst out laughing. Then, still grinning, he said, “Just reach back up and pull yourself around with your left hand.”
Her entire life passing before her eyes, Cecily did as she was told.
“Okay. Now slowly release with your right hand and you’ll start to go down.” Sure enough, as her grip eased up its pressure, she slowly began sliding down the rope and within seconds her feet met up with beloved earth.
“I’m never doing that again!” she insisted, shaking her head. And her head was not the only part of her anatomy that was shaking. Her knees were so weak beneath her, she could hardly stand.
“Isn’t that a rush?” Danny asked.
Cecily could hardly answer under her breath. “A rush to your death!”
Don and Christina descended the ladder. Christina put her arm around Cecily as they sat on a nearby rock. “That’s why I won’t do it,” Christina murmured, comforting her new friend.
Cecily refrained from mentioning to anyone that she was afraid of heights.