The Dirty Secret (38 page)

“This Lambskin, or white leather apron,” the man explained, laying it on Jack’s casket, “is an emblem of innocence and the badge of a Mason. It reminds us of that purity of life and conduct so essential to gaining admission into the Celestial Lodge above, where the Supreme Architect of the Universe presides.”

A second Mason approached and handed the old man what looked like a big fern leaf. Grasping it his gloved hands, the speaker tenderly placed it beside the apron atop the casket. “This Evergreen is an emblem of our faith in the immortality of the soul,” he declared. “By this we are reminded that we have an immortal part within us which shall survive the chilling blast of death and, springing into newness of life in realms beyond the grave, shall never,
never
die.”

The old man turned his attention to his counterpart at the foot of the casket and gave a nod. The other Mason returned the nod, took one step toward the coffin and bowed his head.

“Most Glorious God,” the man began. “Pour down Thy blessing upon us, and strengthen our solemn engagements with the ties of sincere affection! Endue us with fortitude and resignation in this hour of sorrow, and may the present instance of mortality draw our attention toward Thee. Enable us to look with eyes of Faith toward that realm whose skies are never darkened by sorrow; and after our departure, may we be received into Thy everlasting kingdom, to enjoy the just reward of a virtuous and well-spent life.

“Amen.”

As she opened her eyes at the end of the prayer, Rikki heard the other seven Masons intone as one: “So mote it be!”

The old man at the head of the gravesite smiled peacefully and placed his fedora back on his head. Gazing around at the crowd, he announced, “This concludes our service. May God grant his loyal servant, Jack McCallen, the eternal peace and joy he so richly deserves, and may God bless you all.”

With that, the lead Mason strolled over to offer his condolences to Tabatha and the boys while the crowd dispersed. Rikki watched Bart McCallen walk up to Dave and wrap him in a bear hug. With clenched eyes and flaring nostrils, Dave pounded the palm of his right hand against the man’s back twice and said, “I’m so sorry for your loss, Bart. You need anything at all …
anything
… you give me a call, and I’ll be there for you.”

Bart loudly sucked air through his mouth, trying to control his breathing. He gripped Dave tightly and fought back tears. “It’s not
fair!
Those boys
need
their dad, damn it! How can they grow up to be
men
when the only role model they’re gonna have around the house is
Tabatha
, for God’s sake?”

Dave pulled away from Bart and stared him square in the eyes. “They still have their Uncle Bart. You know the kind of men Jack would have taught them to become. You
are
the kind of man Jack would want them to become.
Don’t give up.
” Dave placed both of his hands on Bart’s arms and gave them a slight shake. “No matter how hard she tries to make it on you and the boys, Bart, don’t let her beat you down. Those boys are sharp as tacks. Soon enough, if you keep reminding them of the ways Jack taught them right from wrong, they’ll be able to look around and figure out who’s doing right by them and who isn’t.”

Bart pursed his lips and blew a big breath out his nostrils. With moist eyes, he glanced at his nephews and nodded. “You’re right. I can do this. It’s what Jack would have wanted.”

“And it’s what Logan and Brandon
deserve
,” Dave added.

Bart hugged Dave again and said, “You’re a good friend, Dave. Thanks for talking some sense into me.”

Dave lightly patted Bart on the back. “Any time.”

Bart drew away from Dave and his wife, Melinda, subtly put her hand inside the crook of his elbow. “Thanks for everything, Dave,” she said softly. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we need to get home and start moving on with our lives. We can’t grieve forever.”

“You guys take care.”

Bart and Melinda waved goodbye, walking toward the gate and the line of cars that had circled around the cemetery and faced back toward the main road. As Dave watched them leave, Rikki approached and stood just behind his right shoulder. “Hey. How are you doing?”

Dave glanced at her and exhaled. “That was tough. Wading back into the crossfire of Beltway politics will feel like a vacation.”

Rikki nodded. “When are you headed back?”

“First thing in the morning. The transition team meets at noon tomorrow, and with this protracted election battle, we’re way behind schedule in getting his administration organized.”

“Well, be careful going home. I’ll get word to you if there are any new developments in Jack’s case.”

Dave smiled wearily. “Thanks, Rik. I appreciate that. I know it’s way beyond the call of duty for you.”

Opening his arms, he asked, “So can you give me one more hug for old times’ sake?”

Rikki rolled her eyes and leaned in to his proffered embrace. Feeling his arms wrap around her gently, she placed her hand on the middle of his back.
Life is too short
, a voice whispered in her head.
And you may never pass this way again.

As they separated, Rikki looked at Dave’s face, examining it searchingly. Although a tad worse for the emotional wear of the graveside service, he actually looked surprisingly serene. And for some strange reason, Rikki suddenly realized she did not want her time with him to come to an end just yet. “So what are you doing for dinner this evening?” she casually asked.

Dave shrugged. “Probably heating up leftovers. Mom has choir practice tonight, so Dad and I are fending for ourselves.”

“Well, I have a better idea.”

He looked confused. “What’s that?”

“Why don’t you stop by my place? One of my clients owns a beef farm, and he gave me a big box of steaks for Christmas. I could throw two on the grill, and we could kick back, have a few beers, and do some catching up. After all,” she added with a grin and an elbow to his ribs. “It’s only been … What? Fifteen years or so?”

Dave chuckled. “Give or take a few days.”

“So what do you say?” Rikki asked, folding her arms across her chest and shivering slightly. “It’s getting cold out here, and you know I don’t deal well with the cold. My ancestors were sweltering in a hot river delta while yours were snowshoeing across the Scandinavian tundra, buddy boy.”

He laughed aloud. “Fine. What time?”

“How about six? And do you even know where I live?”

Dave scoffed. “Of course. This is
Pleasants County
we’re talking about; everybody knows where
everybody
lives around here! Plus – aside from an oil and gas lawyer who charges
way
too much money for her services – there aren’t a whole lot of people around here who could afford that sweet spread you have overlooking the river.”

Rikki scowled. “I’m not even going to respond to that. You bring the beer and I’ll provide the steaks. Deal?”

“Deal. See you at six.”

CHAPTER 82

ST. MARYS, PLEASANTS COUNTY, WEST VIRGINIA
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 10, 7:20 P.M.

Dave reclined and extended his legs. “Holy cow! That was an awesome meal, Rikki.”

She grinned mischievously. “Of course it was,” she replied snarkily. “Would you expect anything less from me?”

“Ha! Who do you think you’re talking to? I still remember when my exotic-looking girlfriend lured me into inviting a bunch of my UVA classmates over for dinner, assuring me she could cook homemade Indian food as good as her Momma’s!”

Rikki smiled widely and giggled. “Oh, my God! I can’t believe you still remember that debacle!”

“How could I forget watching you freak out after you burned everything to a crisp? Then I had to rush to an Indian restaurant and bring back Styrofoam boxes of food we could pawn off as
your
creations.” Dave cackled so hard his whole trunk shook. “I can’t believe they actually fell for it!”

“Personally,” Rikki added. “I loved it when your friend said, ‘This girl of yours sure is a great cook,’ and you shot back …”

“She sure is
something
all right,” they said in unison, then burst into laughter.

Dave grabbed his empty beer bottle and shook it lightly. “I think I could use a refill.”

Rikki slowly stood up. “Me, too. Let me take that and I’ll get us two more.”

“Much obliged.”

Rikki strolled into the kitchen, dropped the two empties into the recycling bin, and grabbed another round. Returning, she playfully brought a cold bottle into contact with Dave’s neck.

“
Whew!
” he exclaimed, bolting upright. “That’s freezing!”

Rikki grinned and handed him the bottle as she sat down. “I couldn’t resist.”

Dave sipped the beer. Gazing around the house, he nodded approvingly. “This is a nice place, Rikki. Awfully big for one person, but beautiful, nonetheless.”

“Well, I’m not moving any time soon, and it’s big enough for Mom to move in when she can’t take care of herself anymore.” She grinned again, devilishly. “Plus, if I ever find a man smart enough to handle me, he can move his pretty little self in here, too.”

Dave chortled. “That’s a tall order there, Rikki. Personally, I’d be happy if I could find someone I get along with. Someone who might not necessarily
understand
my quirks but at least could smile, shake her head, and accept me the way I am.”

Rikki clanked Dave’s bottle with hers. “That’s a nice way to put it. I might steal it.”

“I’m happy to share it with you,” he said. Then, the look in his green eyes turned more serious. “I figure that’s the least I could do, considering how I …”

The sentence hung unfinished, as if he didn’t know what else to say.

How I wasn’t there to hold you when your dad died. How I foolishly believed him when he said his condition was stable enough for me to finish my finals.

How I failed to live up to your expectations.

“It’s okay,” Rikki said softly. “I understand.”

Dave’s lips tightened. After studying her face, his posture relaxed and he nodded. “You have no idea how many times I’ve
prayed
I’d live long enough to hear you say that.” Closing his eyes, he exhaled deeply. “Thank you.”

Rikki felt her mouth twitch. “We were young. We made mistakes. I was just
so hurt
you weren’t with me when Daddy passed away, and forgiveness isn’t one of my strong points.”

Dave snorted and smiled wanly. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

“I’m just sorry I held on to that grudge for so long. Spending time with you the past few days has made me remember what great
friends
we were, even before we started dating. And I’m sad I let that bitterness linger because it stole fifteen years of friendship from us.”

Dave’s eyes glowed and he smiled. “I’ve missed
laughing
with you, Rik. More than anything, I’ve missed our mental jousts and hearing your laughter.”

Rikki put her hand on his. “Well, I’m happy we finally buried the hatchet. If nothing else, that has helped dull the sadness the past few days.”

“Jack was a good man,” Dave reflected wistfully. “I’m gonna miss the hell out of him. And I hope to God when you guys catch who killed him, whatever happens to him – or
her
– makes waterboarding look like getting a wedgie.”

“Do you
really
want to go into that?” Rikki asked testily. “Because I’d be happy to debate
your
party’s abominable decision to add torture to America’s foreign policy arsenal if that’s how you want to spend the rest of the evening.”

“No thanks. I just dug out of one big hole, and I’d rather not push my luck.”

CHAPTER 83

PLEASANTS COUNTY COURTHOUSE
ST. MARYS, PLEASANTS COUNTY, WEST VIRGINIA
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 11, 10:55 A.M.

While awaiting Tabatha, Rikki reviewed Jack’s will again. Knowing the widow was likely unhappy about the way Jack had structured his estate, Rikki wanted to be prepared to answer any questions (and thwart any objections) she might raise.

The stairwell door opened and then Tabatha asked the secretary, “Is she ready for me?”

“I don’t know,” Martha replied. “I’ll check.”

Tabatha sighed loudly. A moment later, Martha stepped into Rikki’s office with a wide-eyed look that said,
Wow! What a bitch!

“Mrs. McCallen is here to see you,” Martha said chirpily. But her words were undercut by her accompanying motion, acting like she was sticking her finger down her throat.

Rikki smiled. “Send her in.”

Martha ambled back through the doorway. “Ms. Gudivada can see you now.”

Tabatha strutted into the office and sat down, daintily crossing her right leg over her left.

“So how can I help you, Tabatha?”

“I need to know your plans for distributing part of Petromica’s investment in my company to me and the boys,” she replied, twirling her high-heeled foot.

“Well, Tabby,” Rikki began. “
Technically
, McCallen Resources is not
your
company. When he died, Jack owned the whole company, aside from any shares he may have agreed to sell to Petromica, and his shares will pass through his estate. And according to his Will, that stock is to be held in trust for you and the boys until Brandon turns 25.”

“I
know
what the Will says,” Tabatha retorted. “It says the
stock
has to be held in trust. But it doesn’t say Petromica’s investment money must be kept in trust, does it?”

“No,” Rikki admitted. “But that money was
derived
from the stock, so it must remain in trust, too.”

Tabatha’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve already met with Barry Glassman,” she said menacingly. “
He
says that if the beneficiaries of the trust think the trustee is unreasonably refusing to disburse trust proceeds to them, they could have the trustee removed.”

Count to ten. Don’t lose your cool but stand your ground.