Spider Web (37 page)

CHAPTER 18

I
T WAS PAST SEVEN P.M . WHEN I ARRIVED HOME, AND POOR SCOUT was starving. In penance, I gave him an extra scoop of canned food along with a sprinkling of cheddar cheese, his favorite treat.

“I promise to never be this late again,” I said, stroking his broad, shiny back. He ignored me and kept eating. He knew I would likely break my promise and he would forgive me. It’s what dogs do best, forgive with grace, a lesson straight from God.

The minute Gabe walked through the door an hour later, I heard the thump of his briefcase when he dropped it on the entryway floor. Muttered Spanish curses followed seconds later. I didn’t ask him if there’d been any progress. His defeated expression told me there hadn’t been. I heated some chicken soup, made him garlic toast and left him to eat dinner in front of the television.

Upstairs, I puttered around the bedroom, folding clothes and straightening my dresser drawers. It was busywork, but I needed something to do while I mulled over what I should do about Lin Snider. By the time Gabe came up to shower, I’d made my decision. I was going to call her tomorrow, tell her I knew her real identity and that I wanted to talk face-to-face. Before Gabe found out, I needed to know what she wanted. I knew that he’d be annoyed when he found out that I’d not come to him right away. But one look at his face when he came in tonight told me that one more emotional problem would send him over the edge. A fierce part of me wanted to protect my husband. If this child were his, we would deal with that. But before I’d let this woman turn our lives upside down, I wanted to know all the facts. It was a lesson I’d learned from Dove from the time I could understand her words.

“Learn all the facts you can about a problem,” she would tell me. “Then wait a day. If you apply that to everything you do in life, you’ll end up being a lot better off.”

When I was old enough to see the disparity in her advice and her own living, she’d cut me off with, “Do as I say, not as I do. I am a wise woman, but not wise enough to follow my own advice.”

I never quite knew how to answer that.

“Going to bed early?” I asked Gabe, when he opened the dresser drawer.

“Thought I would. I’m beat.”

“I’m going to walk down to Emory and Elvia’s house. She has something I need to give Dove tomorrow.” It was a totally manufactured errand. What I was going to do was call Lin Snider and demand to see her tomorrow. That was
almost
waiting a day, right?

“Be careful,” he said.

“I’ll take Scout. He can use the exercise.”

Fortunately, I’d not cleaned out my leather backpack in the last week. Lin Snider’s cell phone number, carelessly written on a crumpled Post-it, was at the bottom under a half-eaten package of M&M’S. With Scout on his leash, I walked toward Emory and Elvia’s house, turning at the block right before their house, and headed downtown. I found a quiet spot on a low brick wall in front of a closed nail parlor and dialed Lin Snider.

“Hello?” Her voice was tentative.

“Lin? This is Benni Ortiz.”

“Benni!” Her tone grew warmer. “How are you?”

“Fine. Look, I won’t waste your time. I know who you are and I know about Tessa. We need to talk.”

“Oh.” The word was part sigh, part exclamation.

For a moment, I felt like a jerk. Then I remembered that she was the one who came into town under false pretenses, she was the one determined to mess up my life. “Whatever you have to say, I want to hear it before Gabe does. He’s under tremendous pressure right now, and he doesn’t need any added stress. His health is my primary concern.”

“I agree. This might be hard for you to believe, but I don’t want him hurt either. I care about him deeply.”

Her words were an arrow through my heart. “When can we meet?” “How about tomorrow?”

“Morning?”

She hesitated. “How about early afternoon? One p.m.? I’ve not been sleeping well. Mornings are sometimes hard.”

“One p.m. is fine. Shall we meet at your hotel?”

“Yes. I’m staying at the Spotted Pelican in Morro Bay. Do you need directions?”

“I know where it is. See you then.” I hung up and sat on the brick wall for a while watching Cal Poly students wander up and down the street, laughing and goofing off, clueless to the complex adult world that lay ahead of them.

After a few minutes, I started back toward home. Halfway there, I realized that Gabe might notice that I didn’t bring anything back from Elvia’s, my excuse for leaving. I’d wing it, come up with some reason I returned empty-handed. It ended up not being an issue because he’d already gone to bed.

“I’m home,” I said, sticking my head through the guest room doorway. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. “Everything’s locked up tight, Chief.”

“Good night,” he said without turning his head.

“Are you okay? Dumb question, I know . . .”

He patted the mattress next to him. “I have something I’ve been thinking about lately, and I want to talk to you about it.”

I sat down beside him.

“I’m considering turning in my resignation.”

I stared into his eyes, the pupils black dots against a blue-gray as unfathomable as the ocean. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“A little while now. You know I love the work. I love my officers, but the politics”—his jaw turned to steel—“I hate the politics.”

He was considering something that I’d often silently wished for, that he leave the police force, become a civilian. But, to be honest, now that it was an actual possibility, I struggled to imagine what would come next.

“What would you do? I mean, for a living. What . . .”

“Good question.” He bent his head, rubbing his temples with his thumbs. “I don’t have any idea.” He looked up, his face intent, as if dissecting my reaction. “I need to know one thing. Would you stay with me? Would you go with me? I mean, if we have to leave San Celina?”

“Of course,” I said, though I could not imagine leaving my home. But, still, I said it.

The lines of his forehead smoothed out. “It’s not something we have to decide tonight. It’s just that my life has gotten so complicated. More than I ever dreamed possible.”

“No, we don’t have to decide anything tonight.” I moved toward him, kissing his lips, thinking, Complicated? Oh, Friday, you have no idea how much more complicated your life might be getting.

CHAPTER 19

T
HE NEXT DAY WAS COLD AND GRAY, MATCHING THE SOMBER ATMOSPHERE around our house. Even Scout, normally a cheerful dog, seemed morose. Right after his breakfast, he slunk over to his bed in the corner of the living room and buried his nose under his fuzzy blanket.

“Scooby-Doo, that’s exactly what I feel like,” I told him, stroking his smooth back.

Gabe left for work at his normal time, but I could tell he was dreading whatever the day had to bring.

“Something is bound to break soon,” I said, hugging him. His crisp white dress shirt felt cool and familiar against my cheek. “Something good,” I felt compelled to add.

“I’ll call you when I can,” he said, kissing the top of my head.

Once he was gone, I dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, then decided to do the human equivalent of Scout’s canine escape of burying his head under blankets—watching daytime talk shows with my front window blinds closed.

When the doorbell rang a half hour later, I considered ignoring it. But Scout bounded off his bed with his tail wagging, which meant it was someone we knew. I turned off the television and answered the front door.

“I could use a cup of coffee,” Aunt Garnet said, standing on my front porch, leaning on her new cane. “I have maple bars.” She held up a white bag with a tiny grease stain on the front. “Dove said they are your favorite.”

“You are my favorite aunt of all time,” I said, gesturing for her to enter. “I’ll put the coffee on.”

“WW is getting a haircut,” she said, following me into the kitchen. “He loves his time at the barbershop. He’s made some friends there and I want to encourage it, so I’m looking to kill some time. Dove’s over at the historical museum. We’re all going to Emory’s chicken place for lunch. It’s Free Wing Day.”

I scooped coffee into the coffeemaker’s basket, poured water in the top and flipped it on. “Free Wing Day?”

Aunt Garnet opened a cupboard and pulled out a dinner plate. “Anyone who buys a sandwich or a meal gets an order of free hot wings with their meal.” She placed two maple bars and two jelly doughnuts on the plate.

“Yum, jelly’s my second favorite.”

“Yes, I know. I don’t really like wings, but we figure we’ll help fill some seats, make Emory’s place look busy. Shills, I think they’re called in Vegas.”

That made me smile. “You’re getting downright hip, Aunt Garnet.”

A small frown darkened her face as she scratched at a place on the plate. “Just trying to help out family.” She looked up. “You might need to change your automatic dishwashing soap.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Emory’s chicken restaurant was doing just fine, but I thought it was sweet of her and Uncle WW to care. “Maybe I’ll join you for some wings. My schedule is wide open until one p.m.” And I knew I’d only mope around the house and brood if I was alone. Right now, thinking too much about what to say to Lin Snider might not be a good idea. The more I tried to plan my words, the more awkward they sounded in my head. A distraction from my thoughts would be good.

“What’s going on at one p.m.?” Aunt Garnet asked, placing a pitcher of milk between us. Behind her, the coffeemaker chugged and sputtered.

I sat down at the table and took a maple bar. “Just meeting with a new co-op member.” I concentrated on tearing my doughnut in half, then fourths. Aunt Garnet didn’t know me as well as Dove, but I wasn’t famous for my poker face, and I didn’t want to provoke any curious questions.

“Uh-huh,” Aunt Garnet said. The tone of her voice informed me she wasn’t buying what I was selling. Still, she gave me a pass. “Did you hear who won the Coffin Star Quilt Guild’s graveyard quilt raffle?”

“No, who?” The fireworks incident at the festival had thrown me off, then I’d concentrated on getting everything closed up and secure.

Aunt Garnet carefully cut her maple bar into six neat pieces. “Parkwell Mortuary.”

I almost choked on my doughnut. “No way! What are the chances of that happening?”

“It is amusing, isn’t it? The
Tribune
is going to do a story on it. Thelma Rook called me from Oak Terrace and said they were over there interviewing the quilt ladies yesterday. Joel Parkwell bought three hundred tickets, so he must have really wanted it. The quilt raffle raised almost three thousand dollars.”

“That’s wonderful news. I’ll have to take the Coffin Star ladies some cupcakes to celebrate. That’s the most money one of their quilts has ever earned.”

“They’re already planning their next one. It’s another graveyard quilt, but they’re going with a Day of the Dead theme.” Aunt Garnet winked at me over her coffee mug. “Apparently, death sells.”

“Apparently. And their label on the back is an added extra.” I’d designed a special Coffin Star Quilt Guild label for the back of the graveyard quilt. It had the names of all guild members beneath a smiling skull wearing a garden hat decorated with roses and daisies.

While we were finishing our doughnuts, the phone rang.

“Honey bun,” Dove said. “Have you seen my sister?”

I smiled over at Aunt Garnet, who was rinsing off our dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. “She’s right here, Dove. Uncle WW is catching up on world events at the barbershop, and Aunt Garnet brought me doughnuts.”

“Hypocrite.”

“What?”

“Garnet, not you. Tell her to quit stuffing her face with junk food and get over to the historical museum. Things are a mess here.”

I glanced at the kitchen clock. It was only ten a.m. “I’m not doing anything until this afternoon. Want some extra help?”

“When can you get here?”

“If Aunt Garnet feels like it, I think we’ll walk over . . .” I glanced over at Aunt Garnet. She nodded her assent. “We’ll see you in a half hour.”

On the walk downtown to the historical museum, I maneuvered the conversation to Daddy and his love life, hoping I could convince Aunt Garnet that she and Dove should leave him alone without revealing that he had solved his love problems all on his own.