Too Far Under (5 page)

None of this was sounding good to me at all.
“Gramma has money. She’s paying privately there. Maybe I could
bring her home and hire a caregiver to stay with her.” This was
scary because I remembered the problems Grampa had with Gramma
before she moved to Shady Terrace. But I love her so much and I owe
her and Grampa so much, how could I not consider it? Tim gave me a
sympathetic smile. “You could look into doing that, but the
agencies charge a fortune for round-the-clock care—and you’d
probably need that even if she’s living with you, since you say she
wanders at night and you’d need to be able to sleep.”

“Maybe I could find someone I could hire
privately to live in so we wouldn’t have to pay the agency fees,” I
said.

“Maybe, but you have to be really careful who
you hire. I’ve heard some horror stories. In fact my own father was
ripped off by his housekeeper and I didn’t even know it until after
he died.”

“Were you able to—” Before I could finish my
question, we were interrupted by shouts from the other side of the
room.

“This is
unbelievable
! What are
you
doing here? You ruin everything for our family! Couldn’t
you let us have
anything
special just for us?” Across the
room, my student Lacey Townes stood eyeball to eyeball with Judith
Demar, screaming at her. Judith did not reply but jutted her sharp
chin closer to Lacey’s face.

“Enough, Lacey.” Derrick Townes stepped in
back of Lacey, gripped her shoulders and pulled her back away from
Judith, who looked disgusted.

“And
you
! I suppose you
invited
her here,” Lacey screeched. “Don’t you even care that this is
Angelica’s special night? You can screw whoever you want, but
please don’t bring your whores around for family events.”

The gallery was completely silent by then,
except for Lacey’s tirade. All eyes were on her. What a drama
queen! I was already congratulating myself that I hadn’t agreed to
take her on for the Contact Project.

Then a young girl in a white dress with long
dark hair down to her waist walked confidently toward Lacey and put
her hand on Lacey’s arm. The young girl paused, gazed into Lacey’s
face and spoke in a calm, clear voice. “Lacey, our joy is within
us. She can’t touch it. Don’t give her power over you.”

Lacey closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
I could almost see waves of tension leaving her body. She opened
her eyes and turned to Angelica with a smile. “You’re right,
Angelica,” she said, “Let’s go look at your paintings.” She clasped
Angelica’s hand and they walked off toward the back of the
gallery.

As I watched them move off together, I
marveled at the ability Angelica had to calm Lacey so easily. She
was clearly a powerful ten-year-old. I felt strangely drawn to her,
almost as if she radiated energy that connected with me in some
spiritual way.

As other guests gradually returned to their
conversations, I pulled my attention back to the people around me,
thanked Tim for his help and excused myself. I considered going to
the back of the gallery to meet Angelica, even though I had
reservations about getting into a conversation with Lacey. But as I
looked around I saw Pablo, who had finally shown up and was
standing over by his work. Mia wasn’t with him. He beckoned me over
with such a big smile that I couldn’t resist.

He gave me a huge hug and I relaxed and
hugged him back, loving as always the solid feel of his
well-muscled body. I hung out there for a while with him, listening
as he answered questions about his sculptures. I love to hear Pablo
talk about his art because while he’s serious about it, he doesn’t
take himself too seriously. I heard a man ask, “How do you manage
to breathe so much life into sculptures you create out of rusty
gears and tools?”

“Basically they’re reincarnated from
discarded stuff into new creatures and they come alive in the
process,” Pablo said. “As I sculpt them, each cat or frog or
chicken or person reveals its distinct personality to me. Most of
them come out humorous—kind of like they’re laughing at being made
out of stuff people threw away. But some seem to have something
serious to say—mostly about recycling.” I laughed along with the
crowd and felt proud that Pablo is a guy who is able to combine
being a hard-nosed cop with being a soft creative artist as well as
a witty outgoing conversationalist.

Of course it’s his outgoing personality that
leads to situations like him taking Mia for a drink before
tonight’s show. And whoops—there she was, walking slowly through
his sculptures, carefully checking out each piece. “Great work,
Pablo,” she said, giving him a hug. Then she stood beside him like
she belonged there.

I was tired of doing the jealous girlfriend
thing by then. He knew we were both there and it was his problem to
solve. I wasn’t going to hang around looking needy. So when I
noticed Lacey and Angelica leave, I went off to the back of the
gallery to look at Angelica’s work.

Her paintings were impressionistic
new-age-type portraits of faces, each surrounded by a unique
swirling multi-colored pattern. Vibrant colors and well-rendered,
especially for a ten-year-old. It’s not easy to tell how a child
artist will develop or whether she is a prodigy, but Angelica did
seem to have talent. I wondered how Faye had discovered her
work.

It was almost time for the gallery to close
by then and my day had been long and stressful. I was so ready to
go home and crash. But there was Pablo to think about. We were
going to a wedding in Estes Park the next day but we hadn’t made
any specific plans about tonight, whether he was coming home with
me again or going back to Longmont. We tend to sort of go with the
flow on that stuff. I knew that if he came home with me, we’d get
into a big fight about Mia and I didn’t have the energy for
that.

I noticed that Mia had moved on to look at
some work at the other side of the gallery. She was absorbed,
examining the art with an artist’s eye, which gave me the
opportunity to talk to Pablo without her. So I walked over to him
and said, “Hey, great show. But I’m on my last legs, so I’m going
home and get some sleep. What time do you want to pick me up
tomorrow?”

Pablo looked surprised. “I thought we could
all grab some dinner after I get done here—maybe hang out and talk
a while,” he said.

All? He wanted me to go to dinner with him
and Mia? No way I had the energy for that. “Thanks, but I’m too
tired and I’m not really hungry,” I said. “It’s been a long
day.”

He put his arm around my shoulders and gave
me a sideways hug. “Oh, right. I’m sorry I haven’t had time to talk
with you about the Shady Terrace closing. Are you sure you don’t
want to go for dinner so you can tell me about it?”

The hug felt good and I was briefly tempted
to go with him but I was too exhausted to cope with Mia. “Pablo, I
appreciate your concern, but I don’t think I can talk about it any
more today,” I said. “We can catch up tomorrow. What time is good
for you?”

“How about 1:30? That will give us time for a
hike before the wedding.”

“Perfect. See you at 1:30,” I said moving
toward the front door.

Elisa came out the door right behind me and
offered me a ride home, so we walked back to the St. Julien parking
lot to get her car. I live in west Boulder, only about ten blocks
from there and my office is in the 200 block of Pearl so I had
walked over to the St. Julien after work and I could have easily
walked home. But the evening had cooled and a breeze had picked up,
so I was glad for the ride. We hustled along the sidewalk trying to
stay warm. “So you decided to let Mia win out?” she asked.

I knew Elisa had a point, but I didn’t want
to think about it or talk about it right then. “I don’t want to
confront him until I’ve had some sleep. I’m too tired to even think
about it right now. So it can keep until tomorrow.” As we dodged a
couple of cars on Walnut, I decided to change the subject to get
Elisa off my case. “By the way, how come Tim Grosso was at the
opening?” I asked.

“He and Faye have been in a relationship for
a while now. You didn’t know?”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “No way! Really?
I had no idea. But I don’t see Faye that often. And we don’t talk
about personal stuff, just painting.”

Elisa put her arm over my shoulders and
pulled me along. “Come on, girl. Let’s get out of that cold
wind.”

I picked up my pace. “Do you know why Faye is
showing Angelica’s work?” I asked. “An unknown child artist is
unusual for her.”

“One reason might be that Mirabel Townes was
her silent partner in the gallery.”

“Wow, I guess I really don’t know Faye all
that well. But you know everything as usual.”

“Honey, you know me. I like to be in the
middle of everything and know all about whatever is going on,”
Elisa said. We’d reached the parking lot by then, got in her car
and drove out.

“That Lacey Townes sure is a piece of work,”
Elisa said. “After what we saw tonight, I’d say she’s not a prime
candidate for your Contact Project.”

While I’d had the exact same thought myself
while watching Lacey’s over-dramatization, somehow hearing Elisa
say it aroused my oppositional side. I have real problems with
anyone telling me what to do, even when the advice-giver is a good
friend. So I said, “Maybe Lacey truly is desperate to find out what
happened to her mom and that’s why she’s behaving this way. So
tonight could be a sign that she really needs help.”

“Suit yourself, but I’d say you’re the one
who’s going to be needing help if you get involved with her.
Remember you heard it here first.”

“I’m still thinking about it,” I said,
“Interesting family. So I guess Derrick Townes is Faye’s business
partner now that Mirabel’s dead?”

“Or maybe the kids,” Elisa said, turning into
my driveway. “I heard they inherited a lot.”

“Right. Lacey did say she had money to pay
whatever my going rate is. I could use a little influx of cash
about now. I lost a few clients during that mess we were involved
in last summer.”

“Give it up, Cleo. Not worth the money.”

“Maybe not, but I’m not sure,” I said as I
gave Elisa a quick hug and jumped out of the car. “Thanks for
everything. Talk to you later.” She waited until I unlocked my
front door, got inside and turned on the lights before she drove
off.

I wasted no time getting ready for bed, but
once I lay down I was suddenly wide-awake worrying about Gramma
again. I kept running the problem through my mind, hoping a new
solution would somehow pop up.

Instead what popped up was Tyler, a spirit
who visits me now and then—usually when I’m wrestling with a
problem. I guess you’d have to call Tyler a ghost. I never knew him
as a live person. He originally showed up one day when I was trying
to contact my dead grandfather. Instead of Grampa, I got this
blond, blue-eyed spirit-guy in a faded gray “Never Stop Surfing”
tee shirt, black nylon shorts and gray rubber sandals. I know
enough about spirit contacts to believe Tyler is real. But I don’t
tell people about him. I did tell Pablo and that was probably a
mistake—but I’ve learned Tyler comes for a reason, and it’s
important for me to follow his directions.

Tyler always visits without warning. It’s as
if he drops from the clouds. I’m not always glad to see him. He’s
not only dead, he’s bossy. He speaks in this stupid surfer slang
and tells me what to do like I’m his flunky, and he won’t leave me
alone until I do what he says. But even though it can be
problematic to figure out what he’s telling me, I know I need to
take him seriously when he says someone needs my help.

Today I needed his help, so he was a welcome
sight sitting cross-legged on the end of my bed. I sat up but
stayed at my end. “Tyler! Great! I have a huge problem.”

“Yo, Cleo. You’re into some mean waves,
dude.”

“What about Gramma and how she has to move?
What should I do?”

“She’s in the impact zone. Got snaked. Might
take a nose-dive and wipe out.”

His cryptic answer was more and at the same
time less than I wanted to hear. Frustration surged through me like
one of his waves. “What do you mean, wipe out? What can I do to
stop it?” I shrieked.

Tyler answered calmly like he always does.
“That’s not my dog, Cleo. Angelica and Lacey are in the waves you
need to grab.”

“But Tyler,” I begged, edging closer to him
on the bed. “Won’t you help me with Gramma’s problems first? At
least ask Grampa what he wants me to do. He’s dead too, so you
should be able to ask him.”

Tyler bounced—or whatever he does when he
moves—over to the corner of the room, where he floated in midair.
“Back down, Cleo. I’m not in that channel. You need to help
Angelica. She’s out there alone body surfing in those mean
waves.”

“How about you help me and then I’ll do what
you want?” I said boldly.

“I don’t do deals. Angelica needs you. You
can’t just splash around. Get out there and get on before the wave
starts to break.”

“Tyler, I don’t—”

“I gave you the word. Now I’m gone,” he said.
And he disappeared.

I flopped back down in my bed, disappointed
and confused. So Tyler wanted me to help Lacey and Angelica, but he
had nothing useful to say about Gramma’s problem. His visit had
just added to my distress.

I had plenty to think about but I was beyond
fed up with this day. So I put it all out of my mind and went to
sleep hoping that somehow life would look better tomorrow.

When Pablo picked me up the next day, he was
in a great mood—all smiley and affectionate. He gave me a big kiss,
then said, “Faye called this morning.” A guy who was at the show
last night came back this morning and bought two of my pieces.”