Her voice cracked as she spoke. “Hello, this is Don’s sister Maria. Is he home?”
“Not right now, Maria. I’m sorry,” Kate said, “Can I help you?”
“Can you get a message to him?”
“I can.” She already knew what it would be.
“Our father passed away a few minutes ago.”
The sound of quiet sobbing could be heard through the phone. “I’m so sorry, Maria. I’ll have him call as soon as I can reach him. What can we do to help?”
“Nothing...thank you, anyway. The arrangements have all been made.”
“How’s Pauline?”
“I think she’ll be fine. He seemed so peaceful those last few minutes. He smiled as he went. His lips moved, but nothing came out. I think he was happy to finally go.”
“That’s good, dear. Are you going to be all right?”
“Yes...now he doesn’t have to suffer anymore.” Kate could feel Maria’s loss. They ended the call and Kate left for the apartment.
The ambulance arrived. Barker wasn’t quite sure what to do with Melvin. There still wasn’t any evidence as to who or what was buried in the backyard. Before covering the site with a piece of plastic, he’d give it a look-see. The chain with the half purple heart was partially buried in the muddy water. He walked back to the hole and stared at the heart, slowly disappearing into the mud.
Don was a sight. Each drop of rain that fell on him managed to wash away a little more of the mud that streaked down his face and arms. Christina stood by his side, holding his hand, and Alan and the boys surrounded them, offering unspoken support.
Melvin stood conspicuously alone on the back porch, as Barker had instructed. Before long, he stepped down and cautiously approached the rain-drenched cluster.
Don remained calm. He took the chain out from under his shirt and rocked it side to side like a pendulum. “It’s her, isn’t it?”
Melvin slowly nodded. A resigned sigh passed his lips. “Yes.”
Don yanked down hard on the medallion at his throat. The chain broke, leaving behind a slender white line around his neck. He reached over, raised Melvin’s hand and placed the chain in his limp fingers. It hung there draped over his fingers, glinting gold, wet and shimmering, as if suspended in time and space.
Barker listened to the brief exchange, then pulled Don aside and asked him what it was all about. After hearing Don’s account, Barker decided he would make an arrest.
“Melvin Briggs, you’re under arrest for the murder of your daughter, Leann Briggs...”
“Leah! Her name was Leah...” Melvin mumbled as the cuffs were placed on his wrists.
Barker led Melvin to the squad car. The broken chain had fallen from his hand and was lying on the wet ground near the hole.
“Grandpa’s home,” Christina whispered, still holding her father’s muddy hand.
He bent to listen. “What did you say, ’Tina?”
“I saw grandpa. He’s feeling better.”
The paramedics helped the dazed girl to the stretcher. “Her eyes are dilated....She appears to be in shock. Let’s get an IV in her,” one said.
Kate arrived, distraught. “What happened? Is she all right?”
Don met her. “She appears to be in shock. And they say she may have a concussion.”
Kate climbed into the back of the ambulance ahead of Don to find a place where she could hold the child’s hand. She could see Melvin sitting in the back seat of a police car, parked just in front. His head hung, tears streaming down his bruised face.
Barker instructed several deputies who had arrived to rope off the area. A crowd had gathered and a few reporters were clustered together. Alan stood by the curb in a pair of wet slippers, his saturated robe trickling whirling water patterns on the cement.
Danny, already inside the police tape, slipped unnoticed in the back door of Melvin’s apartment. He figured if he could get just one more disk he could unlock it without destroying the information. The rain let up as the ambulance pulled from the curb.
“I’m fine Aunt Kate,” Christina said softly. “Grandpa was holding my hand.”
“From the bump on her head, she might hallucinate a little,” the EMT explained.
Then Kate remembered why she’d come. “Maria called just before I came...he’s gone,” she whispered.
Don glanced over at her. “I know.”
Danny couldn’t believe his eyes. Though he had no idea what everything was used for, it was a computer geek’s dream come true. He was dying to sit down and play for awhile. “Danny!” he heard his father call from outside. Knowing what kind of trouble he’d be in if he were caught in Melvin’s house, Danny skimmed the rows of disks and found two that were compatible with his father’s PC. Dropping them in his shirt pocket, he hurried through the kitchen to the steps leading to the apartment below. Just before he reached the door, the cat darted out in front of him. It hissed and hunched its back before scurrying away. He unlocked the door and hurried down the stairs.
The tension was thick on the drive home. “I can’t believe you decked him,” Jake gushed. “His knees buckled, his eyes rolled back in his head.”
“That was the most awesome punch,” Bryce added. Alan wasn’t sure he wanted his boys to revel in the violence. He had been amazed by the flurry of fight that had spewed from his son, and was even more surprised that he had taken Melvin down.
Danny, however, was rather embarrassed that he’d lost control like he did. “I feel bad for him. It’s probably been eating at him forever.” The car became silent again, each of them reflecting on the mental state of a man who’d kill his own daughter and bury her in the backyard.
Cecily decided to go home and make herself presentable before she went to the hospital. Poor Don. He wasn’t as tough as he acted. The other day she’d seen him sobbing in Rex’s arms, and now he had cried like a baby. She could remember seeing her own father cry only once.
She weighed this jumble of thoughts, mulling over their relationship. He’s been under a lot of pressure. Maybe I’d better give him the benefit of the doubt...and see what happens. Her fear of his presumed combustible temper had been washed away by Don’s tears. She showered, dressed, dried her hair and put on some makeup, then headed for the hospital.
Still in one of the emergency room recovery cubicles when she arrived, Kate, Christina and Don were discussing the impending trip to Boise. Cecily stuck her head through the curtain.
Kate flashed her a smile. “Cecily, we were just talking about you. Don said you offered to drive him up to Boise.”
Cecily nodded.
“His father passed away this morning. He needs to leave this afternoon or tonight. The services are in the morning.”
Cecily nodded again and asked Christina how she was feeling.
“I’m just fine,” Christina said, though her face looked drawn and tired.
Don just sat there, smiling at Cecily. Kate continued. “They said the CAT scan came back negative. She doesn’t have any signs of physical trauma—just shaken up. The doctor doesn’t want her to go to Idaho. Says she should stay in her bed for a day or two. We’re waiting for her to be released.”
The nurse drew back the curtain. “Okay, young lady, you can go. We don’t want to see you back here again. You’ve done more than your part to put him in jail—now leave the rest up to the police.” She turned a half step, then reappeared and added, “Oh, Lieutenant Barker asked me to call Dr. Wendy. I set up an appointment for Monday at four o’clock. Is that okay?”
“Fine, thank you,” Kate said as they picked up their things to leave. Don and Christina didn’t say much as they strolled out the emergency exit. He was still a filthy mess. Alan pulled to the curb, almost as if it had been planned.
“Daddy, you go with Cecily and get cleaned up so you’ll be ready to go. I’ll go with Aunt Kate and Uncle Alan. I’ll see you before you leave.” She was already doing better, acting more like herself.
Don walked to the parking lot with Cecily. “I’m sorry I upset you the other night,” he said, getting it over with as quickly as possible.
Pleased and surprised by his apology, she said in return, “No...I shouldn’t have made such a big deal out of it. I could’ve expressed my feelings better.”
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for Christina and me, especially driving me to Boise.”
“My pleasure. I enjoy your company. I’m sorry about your father.”
Don reached over and took a small lock of her hair between his finger and thumb, fiddling with it a moment before fixing his gaze on the woman it belonged to. How beautiful she was. Cecily felt a chill on her arms and neck.
Stacey awoke to his watch alarm. He rolled over to see Sig sit up and turn his head to the side, waiting for instructions. It was the best few hours’ sleep he’d had in over a week. A shake of his head called him back to reality. He had two broken ribs, his dog was still only halfway healthy, and he’d soon get a call from an enemy who wanted him dead.
The air smelled clean, as only it does after a downpour. Sig at his side, he slowly made his way through the orchard. Fifteen minutes after starting out, he reached the edge of the trees, where he would wait for the captain’s call.
Bingham was already on his cell phone, shouting into the mouthpiece a choice string of adjectives followed by, “You’ve had all night to be ready to cross-link this call!...I don’t care if he is. I want someone who can locate that phone. I’ve got two minutes before I call him, and you’d damn well better be ready!”
Meanwhile, Stacey leaned into the trunk of an old cherry tree and pushed the cell phone’s ON button. “Batter up,” he said to Sig, who celebrated the occasion by lying down to rest. The phone rang several times, then quit. Sig perked up to listen, then laid his head back down in the tall, moist grass. Stacey waited until the phone rang again, but still didn’t answer. He wanted Bingham to squirm.
He answered when the phone rang for a third time. “You’re not supposed to call until eleven tonight,” he said before turning off the phone. “Come on, boy. That ought to give him a 20- or 30-mile radius.” Stacey slapped his leg and walked back toward the old farmhouse, thinking about his pending confrontation with the captain. Arriving at the door, he instructed Sig to rest while he continued his work.
Bingham tried to call again. When he realized the phone had been shut off, he slammed his own phone on the floor, sending pieces flying everywhere.
Cecily waited in the living room for Don to shower. The place gave her the creeps, even with so many people working just outside the door. Indeed, two men in coveralls and a half dozen others— forensics experts, detectives—had gathered under a makeshift canopy, which had been erected over the spot where the shed had once stood. Huddled over the growing hole, they whisked at dirt and sifted through the fine clay. Three camera crews had positioned themselves outside the police tape, umbrellas overhead to cover their expensive equipment.
Still, this was the apartment of doom, of subterfuge, of so many memories—most of them bad—in such a short time. She remembered the newly-married young man and how he and his wife had felt so violated when they realized she’d been spied on. She remembered the antics of a lunatic landlord. And, so vivid in her mind, was that day’s implausibly horrific events. She had tried to convince Don to go to Kate’s house to shower, but he’d insisted it would only take a minute. Besides, all his clothes were still in the apartment. She’d already gathered most of Christina’s things, now arranged in two boxes on the floor.
Finally Don walked out of the bathroom, pulling his shirt over his head and smoothing it down his torso. Cecily watched out of the corner of her eye.
“I’ll pack a few things and we can get out of here,” he said. “The sooner the better. I keep thinking I’m hearing things upstairs. I’m a little spooked being here.”Don returned in a few minutes with a gym bag and a jacket. Cecily bent to lift the boxes. “Here, I’ll get those,” Don offered. He piled the bag and jacket on top and hoisted the boxes against his chest.
Outside, the rain had started up again.Seeing Don, the reporters rushed to meet him. “Mr. Rodriguez?” they seemed to ask in unison, “can we...”
Don pulled himself up into the waiting Jeep and off it sped, the reporters talking and the cameramen keeping their cameras fixed and dilated until it disappeared from view.
Within minutes they were at Kate’s house. Danny was at the computer. “Any progress, buddy?” Don asked. He nodded without looking up. Kate was in the kitchen preparing a special meal for Christina. Don asked if he could use the phone and called home. After discussing with Pauline the funeral arrangements and how peacefully their father had passed through the veil, he asked if there was room to bring a friend. He knew she wouldn’t object. They would arrive early that evening.
Kate finished fixing a tray containing favorites of Christina’s, and asked Don if he’d take it up to her. He toted the tray, burdened with an array of emotions–guilt for having left her behind; relief that Melvin was locked up; and disappointment in himself for having trusted the man’s word. Standing in the doorway of the spacious room Christina shared with her two younger cousins, he watched as they bustled and fussed about like little mothers to make her comfortable. Don could see Kate’s personality in them.
“Hi, Uncle Don,” greeted the older of the two girls. She was about eleven, with dishwater blond hair and her mother’s sparkling blue eyes.
Don smiled and gave the thumbs-up sign. “Hi, Katie.” “Oh, you can put that right here.” She pointed to a small table sitting below the large dormer window that looked out over the valley. He walked to the window and took in the magnificent view. The sun was halfway hidden by low-slung clouds hovering above the lake. The rolling mountain range sat off in the distance, readying itself for one heck of a sunset, several hours away.
His gaze dropped to take in more proximate objects. The damaged sedan was no longer parked down the street. The neighbor’s cat prowled across the front lawn in pursuit of a moth. Steam rose off the street as the sun poked its head from the clouds again. Don turned around. “Are you going to be okay here if I go to Boise?” “I’ll be fine, Dad.”
Don knelt at the side of the bottom bunk. Katie, old enough to realize things might get personal, ushered her younger sister from the room and closed the door behind them.
“You felt him, didn’t you?” Christina asked.
“I did. Pauline told me he smiled as he passed away. Now tell me–how did you get from inside the shed out on the lawn?”
The question brought a smile to Christina’s lips. “He held my hand and took me somewhere very beautiful, just for a minute. Then he said he had to take me back. He said ‘I love you’ as he left me.”
A lump formed in Don’s throat. Why couldn’t his father have said these words just once to him? Christina could see her dad’s eyes begin to fill with tears. Hers were also swollen.
“Daddy, Grandpa was there all along, all through the time I was in the shed and afterwards. He was there to tell you that he loves you, too. That’s what you felt when I touched you: It was love. He was full of love. He got it from the place he was at, then gave it to me to give to you. When I put my hand on your arm, you felt it, didn’t you!” It wasn’t a question, rather, a statement.
Tears slid down his cheeks. Yes, he had felt it—and he could feel it now. It was like nothing he had ever known before. He bowed his head to hide the tears. Christina placed her warm palm under his chin and raised his face. Their eyes met. “I love you, Daddy, and so does Grandpa. And God loves you, too. That’s why he let Grandpa come visit us.”
“I love you, too, Christina Marie.”