Suspicion of Malice (29 page)

When the talk had run down, and Karen had begun to squirm in her chair, Irene reached for
Dave's plate, then Gail's. "Does anyone want some more coffee? We could take it out on the back porch.
It's not that hot today."

Dave stretched and looked at the black dive watch circling his wrist. "I would, Irene, but I told my folks I'd drive up there this afternoon. I'd better get going.
This was super."

Gail said, "Would you like to take a walk with
me?"

Their eyes met across the table. Knowing each
other for sixteen years filled in the blanks. He said,
"Okay, sure."

She smiled at Karen. "Sweetie, why don't you help
Gramma clean up?"

They went out the front door, and the screen
clicked shut behind them. The striped cat lying on
the porch glider stopped licking its paws and
watched them take the brick path to the tree-shaded sidewalk. Belle Mar was near downtown but walled off for security. Some of the houses were big two-story things with soaring roofs, but most were like Irene's, a ranch style about forty years old, getting a
bit mildewed.

Gail had met Dave in college. He'd been two years
ahead, a business major on a tennis scholarship.
They'd married after her graduation, and Karen had
come along midway through law school. Their marriage hadn't been passionate, but she'd been too busy with her career to be bothered by that. Too busy to
notice Dave drifting away. With some effort she
might have pulled them back together, but it was
already too late. She had met Anthony Quintana,
who had wanted her with a force she was incapable of withstanding. Looking back on it, she wondered
if she hadn't been crazy, falling for a man of such extravagant passion.

Irrational jealousy had been the dark side of desire.
He had feared that Dave would use Karen to lure
Gail back, so he had ruined him. He had secretly
arranged the failure of Dave's business and at the
same time, a job offer at the other end of the Caribbean. That would have been bad enough, but a child had been separated from her father. It had been this
harm to Karen, more than anything, that had shone
a light on the truth: Anthony Quintana was re
morselessly selfish, shamelessly cruel. Love had been
a silken black mask over Gail's eyes.

The sidewalk led to a little park at the end of the
street, a quarter acre of palm trees and grass on the bay.
Gail leaned on the railing and looked out at the small
islands between the mainland and Miami Beach.
Dave waited. A patient man, he didn't push to know
what had brought them here.

Gail said, "How's it going at the resort? Are you
all right?"

"Sure. I like my job, the people I work with.
They're
talking about moving me up from marina manager
to assistant resort manager. I'd be making twice the money, and working about four times as much, but
the benefits are good."

"I'm glad. I wish you hadn't lost your business
here."

"C'est la vie.
A deal falls through, no point crying over it. I'm okay. Yeah, it took some getting used to, and I miss Karen, but other than that. . . . Well, I'm
about as happy as I've ever been."

"Scout's honor?"

He held up two fingers.

A row of coconut palms made moving shade on
benches facing the water. Gail sat down and Dave
sat beside her.

"So. What's up? Everything okay?"

"I'm pregnant."

For a few seconds his face was frozen, waiting for
some clue how to react. "No kidding."

"Completely unplanned," she said.

"Wow." He made an uncertain smile. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I keep making appointments, but
things keep coining up, and I have to cancel. I have
another one for Wednesday. Maybe I'll be car-jacked
on the way, or Karen will get appendicitis. I
shouldn't have told Mother. The way she looks at
me. She doesn't have to say a word, she just gives
me
the look."

"Jesus. Does Quintana know about it? He doesn't, does he?"

"Am I wicked?"

Dave shook his head. "No. On the other hand, he could help out. I mean, if you decide to keep it. Are
you . . . asking me for an opinion?"

"I suppose I am, since this involves Karen, too. She's been through so much already, and this would
be a major disruption in her life. She'd feel pushed aside. And I have to ask myself what kind of example I'm setting as a mother. She looks to me for how
to behave. In a few years she's going to be dating. She'll want to have sex, and how can I legitimately
tell her not to?"

"Because you're thirty-four, you were engaged,
and this was an accident. Gail, I think she can figure
it out."

"What about my practice? Just when I'm getting
started again, I have this to deal with. Having another child right now would be the most irresponsi
ble thing I could do."

"You're only thinking of the negatives."

"What else is there?"

"Karen might think it's neat." He smiled, and the lines deepened at his eyes. "A new brother or sister? Showing it off to her friends? Bossing him around?"

"Oh, Dave."

"Well . . . you always wanted another kid."

"Like
this?"
She laughed and dropped her head
back. Above her, in slow motion, the huge palm
fronds shifted in the breeze.

Dave patted her hand. "If you didn't want it, you
wouldn't be talking about it. Would you?"

She closed her eyes. "I do. I don't. Oh, God, I don't
need this now."

He sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His thighs were muscular and tanned, the hair lightened by the sun. "I'm sorry we didn't have another
kid."

"Are you?" Gail smiled. "We did try, didn't we?"

"I guess it wasn't meant to be."

"What a mess. I'm so sorry for everything, Dave."

"Hey, come on, it's nobody's fault."

She leaned against him. His back was warm from
the heat. "Do you still care about me? A teeny bit?"

"Sure I do." He shifted to put an arm around her,
then kissed her forehead. "I always will, you know that."

"What if I came to St. John? You asked me once,
after Anthony and I broke up, and I said no. I
thought I could never leave what I had—a job, my
mother, friends, all the familiar places I go, the things
I do." She pulled away far enough to look at him.
"I was afraid, maybe that was it. Afraid of change,
of losing whatever I had. But I've found I really didn't have so much after all."

"You'd have the baby there?"

"Why not? This is so obvious! Nobody would care who I was, would they? Nobody would talk. Karen likes St. John, and she'd be closer to you. Charlene
Marks could take over my cases. I have enough
saved to make the move, and I could work there—
it's U.S. territory. But not law, something new. A business. I'm good at that. Maybe we could start a business together."

He was staring at her, a crease between his brows.

Laughing, she held up her hands. "I'm not saying we'd get married again. A lot has happened. We'd
have to take our time ..." Her words trailed off, and she managed a smile. “It would be hard, wouldn't it?
Another man's child."

"It's not that, Gail, I swear. The thing is
...
I've
got to be up front with you. I met someone. We've
been seeing a lot of each other. She owns a gift shop
near the resort. Her name's Lori."

Gail looked for something to say. 'That's . . . won
derful. It is. Really. Is she nice? Of course she is,
what a stupid question."

He turned on the bench to face her. "But every
thing else, everything you said, it's a possibility. A definite possibility."

"I'm so embarrassed—"

"No, no, think how good it would be for you and
Karen both. And the baby." Dave took her hands.
"St. John is so peaceful and green. It's half national
park, so it's never going to get overbuilt like St.
Thomas. The job market isn't great, but we could find you something. I'm sure of it."

"What would your girlfriend have to say about
your ex-wife moving to town?"

"She wouldn't mind."

With a little laugh, Gail said, "Only an idiot would
let you get away with it."

"No, no, everything's different there, I'm telling
you. So laid back and easy. The people are friendly.
There's no crime. You don't need a car. You don't
need fancy clothes. There's nothing much to spend money on. If you raise a kid there, you get him away
from this maniac consumer society. You don't have
a heart attack if he goes out to play. Irene could come
visit. She'd love it, all those little gift shops. She could wear her sarong and straw hat. Listen. I'm
going back next Sunday. Why don't you come down
with me? Check it out, see if it's what you want to
do. You know. Before you decide on anything else."

After a second or two, Gail said, "I'll think about
it." She stood up, leaning down for a second to hold
his face and kiss his cheek. "Thank you. Come on,
let's go back. Don't mention this to anyone, all
right?"

They started toward the house. Round black ber
ries from the ficus tree crunched under her sandals.
A small gray lizard scurried on delicate toes into
the grass.

''Could we ever have made it work? Our marriage,
I mean. If we'd been wiser, or more patient, or
...
something."

"You know, Gail, one thing I've learned is, the
clock doesn't go backward. You just do the best you
can based on what's in front of you."

Gail and Karen waved from the front porch as the
rental car backed out of the driveway, and Dave
tooted the horn. An ache formed in Gail's throat, and
she took deep breaths until she was sure it wouldn't
work into anything more. The car disappeared around
a bend in the street.

"Are you going to miss him a lot, sweetie?"

"Sure, but I am
soooo
glad to be home." Karen turned her face up. "Can I go over to Anita's and
watch a movie? She asked me to. Okay? Mom, it's
so boring sitting around talking all day. No offense."

"Well, if you're
soooo
bored . . ." Gail kissed her.
"Sure. Have a good time. I can find something to do
with myself for a couple of hours."

When Karen was gone, Gail looked in her orga
nizer for the phone number Diane Cresswell had
given her. She had planned to go see her early on Monday, but this would be better. She sat on the side of her bed and made the call. Diane was at the cot
tage, and she told Gail to come around one o'clock.

In exchange for legal advice about a portrait, Gail would see the place where Roger Cresswell had been
murdered. Gail thought briefly about telling Senor
Quintana about it, but dropped that idea. He might
want to come along. She found a notebook and pen,
then went into the kitchen to fix herself a glass of
iced tea.

Irene was on the back porch reading the newspa
per and sneaking a cigarette. Gail could see her
through the sliding glass door.

Two days ago Gail had told her about seeing An
thony Quintana. She wouldn't have mentioned it at
all if she hadn't needed to know about the Cress
wells. Irene had promised to find out what she could,
but she'd been more interested in Anthony. What
had he said? How had he acted? Gail had told her that nothing had changed between them, and the
sooner this case was over, the better.

Gail slid open the door, and Irene hurriedly
crushed out her cigarette as if Gail hadn't already
seen it. On the patio, hanging baskets and big terra
cotta planters of palms and bougainvillea cut the
glare on white decking tile. Ceiling fans spun briskly, making a breeze. Water poured from the mouth of a
decorative frog into the pool, and patterns of light danced on the screen.