Come Dark (16 page)

Nothing in the past years had prepared her for something like this, she reflected. She had long marveled at her supremely gifted son's deep common sense and obviously firm foundation, traits that made his astounding musical gifts all the more endearing. He was not a primo don, not a neurotic, drug-spaced basket case whose only exception came at the keyboard. He was, most of the time, thoughtful and considerate. The year before, he'd refused to fuss during a concert in Mazatlán, Mexico, even when it became apparent that some threat might exist for his personal safety—even when he had found himself surrounded by protective
federales.

His world was family and music; increasingly over the past few years as his concert venues multiplied, she was not always sure of the order of the two. That he had elected to make the trip for his grandmother's birthday pleased Estelle deeply. Doubly so that he had included someone else's special relative in the effort. The
how
of the trip was another matter that she would have to reconcile…that and not being included in the advance planning so that everyone could enjoy the twinges of anticipation.

“Just how far can titanium apron strings stretch?” she finally asked aloud, and laughed helplessly. The car was not full of helpful spirits ready to offer reply. The obvious trouble was that after more than two decades with the Sheriff's Department, she'd seen more than her share of crushed and mangled cars, with lives inside snuffed in an instant.

It was a year to be treasured when no high school student wrapped himself around a tree or dove his car into the abandoned reservoir up on the mesa…or, as had young Efrin Garcia the night before, crashed his truck into a utility pole after slaughtering a deer.

She'd seen ruinous teenaged love affairs; she'd witnessed myriad family disputes that fractured relatives apart. In a small, rural community described as “boring” by some, drugs reared their ugly heads all too often. The many shades of the nightmare were impossible to reconcile.

Estelle imagined the maroon Corvette gliding through the night. Didn't Provost Trevino, Angela Trevino's mother, remember how quickly, how effortlessly, a teenager could drift off to sleep? And she had
approved
this trip? A push of that damn right-hand foot pedal could rocket the 'Vette to nearly two hundred miles an hour.
What was she thinking?

Chapter Twenty-one

Dana Gabaldon's parents, the Summers, lived in a new development west of the river, their brick fascia house on one of the cul-de-sacs nestled at the base of the first river bench. Dana's Kia was parked in the driveway, sharing the space with a Day Cruiser stern-drive boat, expensive enough to pay for a couple of Kias.

Estelle took a moment to talk her nerves down as she wrote the routine trip comments in her log, concentrating on that entry and the purpose of her dash southeast. If Dana Gabaldon knew anything about Coach Clint Scott's murder, that would be evident now. If she had heard nothing, that could be useful now, as well.

She glanced up and saw that Dana Summers Gabaldon had stepped outside and now walked slowly along the winding flagstones through the cactus garden. Her hands were jammed in her back pockets, and she walked with head bowed, like someone who was keeping a watchful eye for snakes. She made no effort to hide her early pregnancy with child number two, but her turquoise blouse was loose and comfortable. Once blond, Dana's auburn hair now showed bronze highlights.

The undersheriff closed her log and got out of the car. “Good evening, Dana.”

The young woman tried to smile, but had a hard time making it stick.

“I'm so sorry,” she said, not exactly the greeting Estelle had expected.
I didn't do it!
would have surprised the undersheriff less. Or a quick hide in the back bedroom. Or a parent to cover for her.

“For what, Dana?”

“For evading you when you called earlier.” She turned and looked back toward the house for a moment, then pulled her right hand from her hip pocket and held it out toward Estelle. “Hi.” She managed to crowd considerable relief into that one syllable, and her grip was strong. “I'm sorry to make you drive down here.” Her hazel eyes held Estelle's.

“I really wanted to talk with you, Dana. So meeting you here is a good thing.”

“Yes, ma'am.” She nodded and stepped over to the car, turning so she could rest her rump against the back fender. She slipped her arms across the top of her belly.

“Let's find a quiet spot,” Estelle said. “Can I buy you an iced tea or something?”

Dana pushed off. “Please come inside, Sheriff. Mom and Dad went out to the airport.” She smiled tightly. “He's working on his sailplane this evening. We'll have peace and quiet. And Adrianna is down for the count.”

“Perfect,” Estelle agreed. “When's the baby due?”

Dana held the storm door for her. “Early March. We're trying to decide whether to take a sonogram or not. Maybe it's better to be surprised.”

Well, maybe.
“Eddie must be thrilled either way.” At the post office, Dana's husband had seemed excited, in his own quiet way.

“In orbit,” Dana replied. She gestured toward the living room, where the seventy degrees felt like winter. Without asking, she slipped into the kitchen, ran ice from the fridge ice maker, and filled the glass from the sun-tea pitcher. Enclosing the glass in a red-checked napkin, she handed it to Estelle. “Wherever is comfortable for you.”

Estelle settled at the end of a long, curving sofa set. “Dana, we're concerned about Stacie Stewart.”

Dana didn't reply, but movements to prepare her own iced tea were deliberate, even thoughtful. She returned to the living room and sat a cushion away.

With her right index finger, she traced the rim of her glass, forehead furrowed.

“We found her daughter and the family's puppy locked in Stacie's Volvo station wagon in the parking lot of The Spree earlier today.”
Or was that yesterday?
Estelle thought. The hours blended into an impossible potpourri.

No gasp of astonishment or incredulity greeted that, and Estelle continued, “A citizen was prompt in calling 911, fortunately. Sheriff Torrez responded and removed the child and puppy from the car. Both are fine, both are back with…” Estelle had been about to say
their family.
“Both are back with Todd.”

Dana nodded, a single, slow bob of the head.

“You don't seem surprised.”

Dana took a deep breath. “May I tell you what happened?” She tried for a smile. “The whole sorry escapade?”

“Please.”

“Thursday night, Stacie and I went to the volleyball game—that was my idea, but Stacie was just a little excited, too. She used to play, you know. After the game, I got home about nine or so, and I was surprised when later that evening, Stacie called and asked me if I'd do her a favor. I mean, it was almost eleven when she called, and that's way late for us.” She smiled. “I was up
eating,
which seems to be my favorite hobby just now. Otherwise I might not have heard my cell.”

“What did she want?”

“She asked if I'd pick her up at The Spree
right at eleven the next day. Today, that is. She asked if I'd park at the end of the store, over by the employees' door. She'd see me there. And that's what I did.”

“So at eleven Thursday night…yesterday…she was already planning to go into the store, leaving her child and pet behind in the car. Why wouldn't she just walk across the parking lot from her car to yours when she saw you enter the parking lot, Dana? Why plan to go into the store first?”

“I don't know. Now, today when I stopped by the store, there were already cops there in the parking lot, so maybe…I don't know. But see, she wouldn't have known about that the night before. She wouldn't have known that they would be there. I mean, when I got to the lot to pick her up, I could see one of your department units parked right by the front of the store, along the sidewalk.”

“And then?”

“She came out the side door, got in the car, and asked if I'd take her down to the Posadas Inn
.
That's just a couple of blocks south, and I was sort of surprised that she didn't just walk. But I mean, no biggie.”

“What was her mood?”

“I'm not much of a psychologist.”

“But nervous? Angry? Withdrawn?”

“Withdrawn is a good choice.
Distant.”
Dana nodded. “Distant. Usually, Stace is on the huggy side, you know? And kinda flighty. But she seemed determined this time. Serious and determined.”

“What did she tell you?”

“Nothing. She asked if I'd go right back to the store after I dropped her off and pick up Ginger and Rascal, that little Jack Russell they bought. Cute as a button, but oh, my God…”

“Had she mentioned anything about your taking the child and the puppy when she called the night before? About making a break, maybe? That she might be thinking of leaving home for a while?”

“No.” Dana tried to take a sip of the tea, wrinkled her face in anguish, and set the glass down on the table. “She never said anything about it.”

“What about at the game?”

“Not then, either.”

“At the game, she appeared relaxed? Everything was all right in her world?”

“Well, that's always hard to tell, Sheriff. But I think so. Nothing out of the ordinary that I noticed.”

“So—as she asked, you dropped her off and then returned to the store to pick up Ginger and the puppy.”

“Well, that's what I was
supposed
to do. She gave me a set of keys for the Volvo, and I asked her what I was supposed to do with the car, then. She asked if I'd park it back in their driveway.” She shrugged. “I mean, I was okay with that. It's just a couple of blocks. But it seemed odd, even a little frightening to me. I mean, what was she thinking?” Dana sighed. “And she wouldn't say. I mean, I said, ‘Isn't there something I can do to help?' And she'd say, ‘Just for a few days, Dana.' And I didn't mind
that,
'cause see, we had been talking about me babysitting Ginger.”

She reached out and placed her sweating glass on a coaster. “It's all so strange. I mean, if she was so intent on leaving town or something, or having some rendezvous with a tall, dark-haired stranger at the motel, why not just leave the kids in the house? Or ask me to come to the house for a little bit? I mean, what's with the car left in the parking lot of a store? That's really bizarre thinking.”

Estelle didn't answer, but to her, Stacie Stewart's convoluted plan was consistent with a mind trying to cope with a life that perhaps
she
didn't understand. Nothing could be simple or straightforward. Or had she witnessed something the night before that had thoroughly spooked her? And yet, Estelle thought, Stacie had made no effort to avoid being seen by Deputy Tom Pasquale. If she was running then, she was a good actress, showing no panic.

Dana put her elbows on her knees and leaned forward to rest her chin on her hands. “I mean, if she wanted to leave her family, why not just take Ginger and the dog to the bank, drop 'em on Todd's desk, and say, ‘I'm outta here'? Or leave 'em at home and give Todd a warning call. I mean,
why?
”

“
Was that what you thought? That she might be meeting someone at the motel?”

“Well, the thought crossed my mind. I mean, that's the cliché, isn't it?”

“Do you think that's what she was planning? To leave her family?”

“She wouldn't say. But now that I've given it some thought, she really
has
been up and down in the past few weeks.” Dana frowned. “She's preoccupied with
something.
I don't know what.” She smiled painfully. “Life has been sort of a roller coaster for Stacie, if you know what I mean. Not always easy.”

“You sat with her during the game. Did she talk with anyone else during that time?”

“Sure. She knows a lot of people. And she and I sat right behind Coach Scott and Frank Dayan. It was fun hearing them talk. And I have to say…” She paused. “She's never talked to me about it, but I
know
that she has a crush on him. I mean, you can see it. And it's not a new thing, either.”

“No girl talk?”

Dana made a face. “Sure, some.”

“After the game last night, do you know if she went home right away?”

“I don't know that.”

“Could she have gone back to the school?”

Dana looked puzzled. “Of course she
could
have. I mean…” She stopped. “She told me…” She stopped again. “Have you talked with Coach Scott?”

“No.”

“That might be a place to start. You know, the two of them have been sort of on-again, off-again?” She smiled, but with no humor. “Small-town romance sort of thing. She lived in Lubbock for almost ten years, and you'd think that would have cooled things down. But as soon as she came back here, boom. There she and Clint are, having their little affair again. Then the baby came, and she told me that she was going to break it off with Clint for good. But then again…”

“Then again what?”

“Well, she'd talked about her homelife now and then. She can't
stand
that puppy, you know. That was Todd's choice, and maybe good for Ginger, although I think that right now Ginger is really too young. The pup is spoiled, he's nippy…but Todd thinks he's wonderful. Of course, he's at the bank all day, and doesn't have to take care of the little squirt. If I take Ginger in for daycare, they'll have to find a place for him. So there you go…” She shrugged and then paused.

Estelle waited patiently.

“She and Todd have never matched very well,” Dana said finally. “I mean, we make our choices, don't we? Not that Eddie is the world's most exciting person, but Todd Stewart always struck me as dull, dull, dull. And maybe that's the attraction with Coach Scott, I suppose. Impossibly handsome, exciting—” She stopped quickly. “Well, I
guess
he might be exciting if you like talking about sports, huh? I mean, he's the guy for whom the term
one-track mind
was invented.”

“You two talked about that a lot, then.”

“No, not a lot.”

“Stacie was looking for a way out, you think? Of that relationship with Scott?”

Dana mused about that for a moment. “I think so. Well no…” She held up a hand. “I
know
she was. At least that's what she claimed.”

“I watched the game file. Stacie seemed comfortable with Scott. There was a clear shot of you all sitting in the bleachers, and at one point, Stacie props an elbow on Scott's shoulder, from behind.”

“I remember that. I didn't know the little rat with the camera was spying on us.” She smiled. “That's Stacie, though. She's a toucher, Sheriff. If she talks with you, she has to touch at the same time. So the arm on coach's shoulder? I didn't give it a thought. I suppose it made for a nice picture. That kid—Jim Kelly, I think it is—he does such a good job with the filming. And of course, he's in love with Martha Grier, so he's motivated. I'm surprised the whole video isn't a portrait of her.” She frowned then. “Small towns are just wonderful, aren't they?” She looked across at Estelle. “I keep wondering what will happen when Todd Stewart notices that as Ginger grows up, she starts to show some tallness genes that banker dad can't account for.”

“You think so?”

Dana took her time answering. “I have no right to say that. So what do newspaper reporters say at a time like this? ‘Off the record.' That's what it is. I can
think
it, though.”

“And Todd doesn't have a clue?”

“I seriously doubt it. “

“Stacie had given no hint to you that she was thinking of actually leaving Posadas?”

“None. I'd like to slap her a good one, right upside the head. This whole thing stretches the ‘What are friends for' adage just a bit much.”

“Where did she go, did she say?”

Dana shook her head. “She wouldn't tell me. She said that if she did, I'd tell somebody else, so it was better if I didn't know.” She looked up at Estelle. “Well, duh. Yeah, I would. I'm worried about her, Sheriff. I really am.”