Silver's Bones (19 page)

I cringed. “Shit. I forgot to warn you about that.”

Shannon's eyebrows furrowed. “
Warn me?
You don't want to meet your sister?”

“You know I'm in the middle of this case. What if I have to work late?”

“Well, then the women in your life will have a long time to chat about you.”

I sighed. “I'll try to make it.”

“Damn straight. They'll be here around five o'clock. My folks are joining us. Mom is making ribs.”

“At least we'll eat well. The tests are in the vanity, by the way. Don't you have to pee now?”

“Later, I said.” She sounded annoyed. “Come help me make dinner.”

Shannon pulled salad makings out of the refrigerator and handed me the hamburger package. I always make the patties with chopped onion and cubed cheese.

“So why are you being so weird about your sister?”

“How am I being weird? I just found out about her six months ago. What do you expect?”

“I expect to see enthusiasm instead of negativity. Your mom says we'll love her.”

“It's the timing and the fact I already told my mother I was too busy to do dinner this week. So she goes to you.”

“It won't kill you.”

“If I end up having to work, it's your deal.”

“Fine.”

I will admit I did have negative feelings about Angelica. I knew it was illogical to blame a sibling just because she was the child my biological parents raised—and I was the one they gave up.

 

 

The evening hours
seemed to
drag . . . it was too long to wait to find out if my wife had my bun in her oven. Finally, after I read the boys several chapters in a Wimpy Kid book, they were calm and ready to sleep. I stopped by our bathroom and took out a kit. I read the directions then brought the bag downstairs.

Handing Shannon a full glass of water, I ordered her to drink. I waited fifteen minutes then said, “Don't you have to pee yet? Think waterfall.”

“Good God, Sheehan, relax. I'll do it tomorrow morning. It works better then.”

“Directions said it works anytime. Go pee,” I said, pointing to the downstairs bathroom.

She stuck out her tongue at me but got up. I followed her right in.

“Get out. I'll be sure and show you the results.”

I crossed my arms determined to watch, but she pushed me out the door, closed it, and clicked the lock.

Really?

“Did you know each box has
three
tests inside,” she said through the door.

“We can do them all to be sure.”

I sat on the couch and waited for what seemed like an hour before she finally opened the door. I looked for signs, but I couldn't read her mood. No smile, no frown. No joyful yippee, or curse words. She held the two sticks in her hand and lifted them for me to see.

“Does that mean what I think it means?”

She nodded.

“You're not happy?” I asked.

“Even though I threw up this morning, I wasn't expecting to see a plus. So I used one from the other box. It was a plus, too.”

I pulled her into me. “This is a good thing, babe.”

“We're not telling a soul for a long time,” she said.

“Fine.”

“What color should we paint baby's room?” I asked.

She pulled away to look at me. “You've been thinking about this?”

“Hard not to.”
When you're terrified.

 

  

When I put soda crackers
by her bedside, Shannon rolled her eyes.

“When the women at work start talking about female stuff, I usually tune them out or get embarrassed and leave, but one thing I've picked up from their conversations is that soda crackers help with morning sickness.”

She gave me an amused smile.

“It's supposed to help,” I said.

“I'm going to read tonight.”

Meaning—no sex. Huh. I suppose my job is done.

 

Chapter 22

August 21

T
he next morning Shannon was lying flat on her back and groping for the crackers with one hand. Her face was ashen. She grabbed a cracker and nibbled.

“Do they help?” I asked.

“Not that much. How am I supposed to get ready for work when I feel like if I move an inch I'm going to throw up?” she asked.

“Call in sick.”

“I refuse. I'm going to will it away. I didn't have morning sickness with the boys.”

“Maybe it's a girl, then. I'll pick up some Sprite and peppermint. They help with nausea.”

“The girls at the department tell you that?”

I shrugged. “Hangovers.”

“That's what this kind of feels like. A hangover that doesn't go away.”

“Sorry. Anything I can do before I go for a run?”

“Just give me a hug.”

“Go to the doctor. Maybe you can get something to help.”

“Aw, it goes away in a couple hours.” Then she bolted for the bathroom.

 

 

Patrice, Tamika, Crosby,
and I
met in Patrice's office. Crosby reported they had contacted ninety percent of the people on the list, resulting in zero new leads. He said most didn't remember much about the party or whether Silver Rae Dawson was even there.

I then played the Wolfsons' recorded interviews for them on her computer. Patrice sat up straighter when she heard Jonah give up his buddy. After the interviews concluded, she said, “Get Sawyer Gage back in here.”

“Yeah, let me at him,” Tamika said, rubbing her hands together.

Patrice smiled and shook her head. “Cal will handle it.”

Tamika made a face and said, “You're not going to give me the good stuff. Are you?”

“It's all good stuff, Tamika,” Crosby said.

Tamika threw him a dirty look.

I made the phone call from Patrice's office. Gage answered on the second ring.

“Mr. Gage,” I said. “This is Cal Sheehan. How's your mother doing?”

“Pretty well.”

“We need you to come back in. We have some additional questions for you.”

“Can't you ask them over the phone?”

“No.”

There was a short silence before he said, “Okay, if it's right now.”

“Now works.”

I found it amusing he thought our interview should be at his convenience.
Dirt bag.

 

 

Fifteen minutes later,
Sawyer Gage
was seated across from me in the interview room. He looked hungover. I offered him some Sprite, which he accepted. Crosby was filming, while Tamika and Patrice stayed to observe.

After I stated the preliminary case identification information, he said, “So, why am I here again?”

“We have new information. We have a witness who says you gave Silver Rae Dawson a pill he believed to be a date rape drug at the Fourth of July party in 1996.”

Gage dropped his fat bottom lip. After a few seconds he asked, “Who told you that?”

“Someone who attended the party.”

“You're not going to give me the name of my accuser?”

I stared at him. He blinked a few times before he threw up his hands and said, “Well, so what? I don't know why a party a year before her death is even significant.”

“Because it says you have history with the victim. Because the drug you gave her impaired her judgment and someone took advantage of her. It's rape, Mr. Gage.”

He looked down briefly, then said, “Look, I was young and stupid. She was self-conscious and uptight. I thought it would loosen her up a bit.”

“Did
you
take one to loosen
you
up a bit?”

“Ah, no.”

“You just give them to virgin girls. She became pregnant because of it,” I said.

He acted surprised. “Oh shit. I didn't know . . . now I really feel like an asshole . . . Did she have a baby?”

“She miscarried. I thought your whole family knew, Sawyer. Did they keep that tidbit from you?”

“Yeah, must have. Look, it wasn't me.”

“You know what? I don't believe you. You knew exactly what effect the pill would have.
You
gave it to her and so when she was nice and loose
you
could have sex with her.”

“Not true! What's going on here? Where are you going with this? What's this got to do with her murder, anyway?”

“I believe she figured out it was you who raped her. You needed to shut her up . . . so you killed her.”

“That's preposterous. You have no proof of any of this. Okay, I admit to giving her the pill, but that's it. My friends and I left that party early. I have no idea what she did after I left or who she did it with.”

“How responsible of you.”

He turned to lock his eyes on the camera and said, “I did not have sex with Silver Rae and I didn't kill her.”

“Bullshit!”

Because of my strong urge to deck the guy right then and there, I stated for the record I was exiting the interview. I went to the observation room to discuss with Patrice how she wanted me to proceed.

“Want me to keep at it?”

“No. You did great . . . but since we have no proof he killed her a year later, we have to let him go. Tamika, can I trust you to escort Mr. Gage out without harming his person?”

“Aw, can't I give him a little kick in the balls?”

Patrice grinned and shook her head. As I walked with Patrice back to her office, I said, “I would like to minimize my time with Adriana's vandalism and breaking and entering case.”

“Why?”

“Uh . . . I think you know why. We have a personal history and it's not a good situation.”

“Well, I can understand how you feel, but who else would handle this right now?”

“Tamika?”

“She's not ready. Suck it up.”

“Great,” I said and went back to my office.

 

 

I tracked down Lois Dodge,
Adriana's cleaning lady at a house on Sixth Street, one block from my house. She was a smiley, pleasant woman in her late sixties. She said she refused to use security systems—having to put in the codes spooked her. Her clients always made other arrangements. She had washed all the windows and mirrors at Adriana's and saw nothing strange. After the ten-minute interview, she gave me her card in case I would ever need her services. “One of my customers moved, so I have an opening. I have excellent recommendations,” she said.

“I'll keep it in mind.”

I then called Maddie Mitchell, who said she hadn't shared the code with anyone. She had been shopping with her parents all day, as Adriana had said.

I spent the rest of the afternoon at my desk doing the paperwork on the interviews, making notes on my next strategy, and trying not to think about the night's family dinner. At five o'clock, I called Shannon.

“Has the dinner been canceled yet?” I asked.

“Everyone's here but you.”

“Is there anything you need me to stop for?”

“No, dear. Just beat it home.”

“Okay, okay. I'm on my way.”

I reluctantly pushed myself out of my chair to go home. My stomach was in a knot.

 

Chapter 23

C
olby and Bullet met me at my truck. I picked up Colby and put him on my shoulders as I made my way to the deck where the group was gathered. A young woman sprinted toward me, slamming me with a hug. I patted her back, hoping she'd get the idea we'd hugged long enough, especially with a kid on my shoulders. When she pulled away she said, “Hi, I'm your sister.”

“Hi, yeah, I deduced as much.”

She looked much like what I remembered of Grace: pretty, with long, dark, curly hair.

I put Colby down and stepped up onto the deck.

“Isn't she adorable?” my mother asked.

“Sure is.”

Our guests lined up to greet me as if I was just back from a tour of duty in Iraq: my mother, Hope; my grandmothers, Dee and Sylvia; and my in-laws, Donna and Richard. Luke, however, was glued to his chair, nose-to-nose with an electronic game. I rubbed his head. He didn't look up.

“I'll be right back,” I said.

Shannon followed me up to the bedroom and sat on the bed while she watched me change into black shorts and a gray T-shirt.

“Isn't Angelica beautiful?”

“Yep. You feeling okay?”

“I'm fine by mid-morning.”

“Where's Brittany? Did you ask her to join us tonight?”

“She said she had plans.”

My cell phone rang. I looked at the display.
Shit. Adriana again.

I answered, “What's up?”

“Sheriff Clinton called me to ask if I wanted to press charges on the woman who tied ribbons on my trees.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I said no. Did I do the right thing? She says you don't think she was responsible for the fire.”

“No, I don't. Look, I've got my family here for dinner.”

“Okay, but I really called to tell you about a conversation I had with Maddie a minute ago. But we can talk tomorrow if you're busy.”

“I just said I was.”

She hung up on me, and Shannon said, “Adriana?”

“How did you know?”

“You always turn away from me when you to talk her.”

“No, I don't.”

She nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”

I gave her a kiss and said, “I tried to get off the case, but Patrice says I have to handle it because Tamika isn't ready and Troy and Adriana are dating.”

“I understand.”

“I don't like her calling me for every little thing.”

“Cal, okay, I get it. Let's go down and join the others.”

I followed Shannon out on the deck and took the empty chair next to Angelica.

“I am so happy to finally meet you,” she said, squeezing my arm. “I'd heard about my big brother all my life and I can't believe I'm finally getting to see you in person. You look cool in your uniform, by the way.”

“All your life? Huh, I just learned about you months ago
.”
I flicked my mother and grandmothers a look. It still pissed me off they kept things from me. Then when I turned back to Angelica, I saw the hurt in her face.

I said, “I'm sure glad to meet you now.”

She smiled. She put her head on my arm and hugged it. I touched her head. She was way ahead of me in this relationship.

“I heard you just got back from Europe?”

“Yes, London.”

“What are your plans?”

“I'm going back to school to get my masters'.”

“Good idea. Where?” I said, thinking about how Shannon said I turned away from her when I talked to Adriana on the phone.

“I'm not sure yet. I'm just in the application process now for next year. Meanwhile, I'm going to live at home, spend time with Dad, and help him with the business. You'll have to bring your Shannon and the kids out for a visit . . . go to Disneyland.”

I nodded.
Not going to happen.

“That sounds like fun,” my mom said enthusiastically.

I looked at Mom and narrowed my eyes to signal to her to mind her own business. Then I went in to get more beer and wine for everyone. Mom followed me in.

She whispered in my ear. “Why do you keep giving me dirty looks? Taking the boys to Disneyland may be what you need to bond with them.”

“I'm bonding just fine.”

“Not what I heard. Donna told me Luke's having a hard time.”

“He'll adjust,” I said.

“So, is Shannon preggers? She looks a little peaked and is not drinking any wine.”

“Wishful thinking, Mom. We want to wait a while.”

“Hmm. I've always had an ability to detect pregnancies very early, and I had a dream you had a baby girl.”

“Dreams are not real, Mom.”

“Didn't I tell you Angel was darling?”

“Yes.” I said. I hadn't had enough time to form a judgment about her character.

“Sorry we couldn't celebrate your birthday with you,” Mom continued. “Did you see the quilt Grandma Sylvia brought you?”

“Ah, no.”

She went over to the couch where a quilt lay and opened it. It was huge, obviously king-sized, with a white background and red, yellow, and blue geometric shapes. I went out and gave Grandma Sylvia a kiss on the cheek and thanked her.

“I didn't finish it on time for the wedding, so it's a birthday present. We missed celebrating with you so we're doing it tonight. Dee made you a cake.”

 

 

At dinner I sat next
to Luke and tried to engage him in conversation. I didn't like the families talking about how I wasn't bonding with him. But he only grunted one-word responses to my questions, so I gave up and complimented Donna on her ribs, saying they were the best I'd ever had. Everyone murmured their approval and went on to discuss who made the best what.

The wine was flowing freely
to everyone except Shannon, me, and Grandma Dee, who was the designated driver. Richard and the boys began a Frisbee game in the side yard and I was about to join them when my mother said, “Oh, Cal, Adriana's mother and sister came into the shop today. They think Silver Rae's trying to communicate with them. They want to call in someone professional to talk to her ghost.”

Everyone got quiet.

“What? Like a séance?” Donna said, giggling.

“Surely they don't believe in that nonsense?” Grandma Sylvia said.

“Who's Silver Rae?” Angel asked.

“A girl who was murdered on Cal's old girlfriend's property,” Mom said.

I glanced at Shannon who looked at me expectantly . . . like I was supposed to respond.

“She was
buried
on the property. We don't know where she was murdered,” I said.

Angel's hand flew to her mouth and gasped. “Someone was
buried
on your old girlfriend's property? Oh, my God. That's awful. Was there a grave marker?”

“No, her remains were found fifteen years later when Adriana was building a retaining wall,” Shannon said.

“Who did it?” Angel asked.

“Cal's investigating,” Mom said, lifting her glass, spilling wine on the table.

“I'll get the cake,” I said.

I sprang from the table and went out to the kitchen. Shannon joined me.

“My mom's beyond tipsy,” I said.

“I can tell.”

She put her hand on my arm and said, “I said we shouldn't discuss the case or mention Adriana because it made you uncomfortable.”

“But not you?”

At that moment, Grandma Dee came in to help dish out the cake—chocolate with white frosting. I plopped a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top of each serving. Shannon began delivering them.

“So where's George tonight?” I asked Grandma Dee.

“He was a little under the weather today.”

“You're moving in together?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I just don't get the rush.”

“We're not getting any younger!” she sang and picked up plates full of desserts and walked out.

I picked up the last two and joined the group. When the women began to talk recipes, I asked Angel if she wanted to take a walk.

“Sure,” she said.

We walked down Sixth Street.

She said, “The houses on this street are beautifully restored. I love what you did with yours.”

“Thanks.”

“Shannon is so nice. Our grandmothers told me all about the wedding,” she said.

“It was small, just family and a few friends,” I said.

Then I realized what I'd said—that I didn't consider her to be family.

“It was just the boys, our parents, grandparents, Shannon's brother . . . a few friends, you know, people who live around here.”

“Oh, I wouldn't have expected to be invited. You didn't even know me.” A few seconds passed before she said, “Dad was so impressed by you. He feels so badly about Mom not seeing you before she died.”

“Yes, he mentioned that.”

“I think he wanted us all to be a family but Hope would have been . . .”

“Angel, do you know the whole story?”

“I think so. Mom and Dad had an affair.”

“Did you know she was only
seventeen
when this happened?”

“Dad's not proud of it—just so you know.”

“Let me ask you this. If you had been them, would you have run, or fought to be in your child's life?”

“Well, I'm
not
them but Mom and Dad both admitted it was wrong. They paid dearly for it.”

“How so?”

“They really suffered.”

Huh, they really suffered.

“I'm kind of surprised no one told you about me,” she said.

“Hell, I didn't know Patrick was my biological father until last fall. All I knew was Patrick adopted me, then left town when my parents had a big fight because I caught Grace and Patrick in bed.”

“How awful! So you did know Mom was your real mother?”

“My
biological
mother, yes.”

“If you had known the truth at a young age, would you have wanted to come and live with us?”

I was still reacting to the “they really suffered” crapola. “Oh, I don't think I would have left Hope alone.”

“I understand. You think of Hope as your mom.”

“She
is
my mother. She adopted me—her sister's love child—not knowing her husband was my sperm donor.”

She seemed to let that sink in before she said, “Well, I like Aunt Hope. I can tell she's a loving mother. And you seem so happy with Shannon and the boys. I think you make a good family.”

“Yeah, we do.”

“Like my parents were. Some people just belong together.”

Every time she made a comment like that, I could feel my muscles clench.
Change the subject.

“We can turn around here,” I said, and we started walking back toward the house. “So what are you going to get your master's in?”

“English lit. I hope to teach at a university, so I have to get my doctorate. I'll probably teach high school for a while first, but I think college-age would be more fun. My grades are good so I shouldn't have trouble finding a suitable program. Aunt Hope said you solved an important double murder case last fall.”

“She brags a bit too much.”

She grinned up at me. “I don't know how I can feel love for you like I do—not ever seeing you before. I think I've missed my big brother my whole life.”

She stopped to throw her arms around me.

“Yeah, I love you too,” I said. It was just a reflexive response. I wasn't sure what I felt. I did have an unexplainable fondness and protectiveness, but there was, I'm ashamed to admit, resentment in the mix.

“So, do you have a boyfriend I can run a background check on?”

She giggled. “It's going to come in handy having a cop for a brother.”

“You seem really grounded for a kid.”

“Who's a kid? I'm twenty-two.”

“You're eleven years younger than I am.”

“Did you know Mom had several miscarriages before I was born?”

“No. You were wanted.”

“And do you think you weren't?”

I nodded. “Of course not.”

“Mom says you were easy to conceive and I was difficult.”

“That's one spin on it.”

 

 

An hour later
it was
getting dark and everyone was ready to cut out for the night. Hugs all around, then Shannon and I walked my mom and grandmas to the car.

“They're all a little tipsy,” Grandma Dee whispered as she started the car.

Angel, sitting in the front passenger seat, said, “Alcohol is the anesthesia by which we endure the operation of life.” Everyone turned to look at her and she added, “George Bernard Shaw.”

“Cheers to George Bernard Shaw,” Mom crowed.

“Thanks, Cal and Shannon, I had a blast. See you soon?” Angel said.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Definitely,” Shannon said.

Donna and Richard hung around just long enough to help clean up, then Shannon took a bath while I put the boys to bed. Luke chose to go to his own room, while I read Colby three books. I then stopped in Luke's room. He was playing a computer game on his tablet. I pulled it away and sat of the edge of his bed.

“Do you like living here?”

“No, I miss my old house and neighborhood.”

“I can understand that. Let's take a bike ride over there soon.”

“Not the same.”

“I know. How can I make things better for you?”

“You can't.” He rolled over and faced the wall.

“I love you, buddy. Let me know if there ever is anything I can do.”

“You can buy me an iPad.”

“Not like buying stuff, Luke.”

“Then no.”

“Good night.”

Maybe my mother was right. Not bonding.