Part 30 (1/2)

Chapter 54.

As it turned out, the only ones exhibiting tension during the introduction of Justin to Stephen and Callie were Rae and Veronica. They'd stood like nervous mother hens while the young people did what, well, young people do. They shook hands--no soggy kisses and hugs. After all, two of them were guys.

Callie wore navy shorts and a pretty flowered blouse in pale blue that matched her sandals. Rae noted Callie's lightly tanned legs, thinking the tan probably came from a spray can.

It was a time to get acquainted, both during and after the barbeque on Rae's wide, wrap-around porch. Justin didn't seem to have any trouble bridging the generation gap between himself and his new-found brother and future sister-in-law. Rae and Veronica grinned at each other as they heard the three swapping grade-school horror stories.

”They're not talking down to him,” Veronica said. ”That's a good thing. It's something I've never done, even when he was a toddler.” She laughed. ”He says I treat him like a person, not a kid.”

”That's what parents end up doing with an only child. I'm one. You tend to relate better with adults, don't you think?” Rae asked, making an a.s.sumption.

”I wouldn't know,” Veronica said. ”I'm one of four. None of us are close.”

When the sun set over Longs Peak in a burst of vermilion, and the echo of firecrackers reverberated from the neighbors' down the road, Stephen offered to drive them all to the fairgrounds for the public fireworks display.

Rae and Veronica opted to stay behind and watch the show from the porch. ”Fat chance you'll find a place to park,” Rae said. ”You should have thought of this earlier.”

”Spontaneity, Rae,” said Callie, answering for Stephen. ”We'll take our chances.”

When the three young people had driven away, Rae looked at Veronica. ”I'm getting used to her,” she said.

”I'm not going to touch that one.” Veronica smiled, looking more relaxed than Rae had ever seen her. Maybe it was the three gla.s.ses of merlot.

Rae began to fidget with her wine gla.s.s, twisting its stem, feeling like she had a goat head in her shoe again and not being able to take it off to empty out the irritant. ”I've been thinking,” she began.

”Don't do too much of that. It'll give you a headache,” Veronica said with a laugh in her voice.

Veronica cracking jokes? What have we come to? Rae's giggle sent wine down the wrong path and out her nose. When she'd cleared her throat, she picked up the sobering thread she'd begun, ”Deidre's dead. And JJ Camacho is still as free as a bird. Kevin's dead. And Morgan and Sam are getting married like their day has come. It's like the books are out of balance, as my mom used to say.”

Veronica shrugged. ”Sometimes that's just the way it is.”

”But I want things to tally up.”

”You want neat answers?”

”Yep. Like the rows of corn across the road. Neat, symmetrical.”

”You won't always get that in police work, Rae.”

”At least, can I expect some housecleaning? Did they decide anything about Marsh and Wehr?”

”Commander Marsh has taken an early retirement, effective July first. Sergeant Wehr was put on sixty days unpaid leave.”

”I guess that's better than nothing.”

She was about to confide about Danny and his regression to fiscal irresponsibility when Veronica pointed toward the fairgrounds. ”Look, Rae, the fireworks have started.”

A star-burst of red, white and blue split open the night sky.

”Happy Fourth of July, Veronica.”

The women clinked their gla.s.ses, then raised them in a toast to the falling bits of brilliance in the southern sky.

Chapter 55.

Lakewood, Colorado September The Colorado Front Range usually gets its first dusting of snow around Halloween. Frosty skies and pumpkins accompany little ones bundled up for trick-or-treat.

Once in a while in September, winter plays a dirty trick on trees still decked out in summer finery, and sends in a blast of things to come.

Soccer Mom saw the big, slate-gray clouds sitting low over the mountains like cats getting ready to pounce. But the kids had to go to practice, and the storm would probably not hit till they were home, tucked in their beds...she hoped.

By the time they'd finished practice and were hopping into her SUV, Soccer Mom knew she'd misjudged the storm's progression. The sodden cloud, now nearly black, opened like a mouth and began disgorging increasingly huge globs of snow. The four boys--two of them hers and two she'd vowed to deliver safely to their doorstep--began to s.h.i.+ver. She started the engine and turned on the defroster, noting the exterior temperature reading. In the past hour, it had dropped nearly forty degrees.

Complete dark came too quickly, the moon-sliver having been devoured early on by the storm. Soccer Mom had to cross the Graystone Lake Bridge to reach the boys' home in the Peardale section. She drove cautiously, thankful that her new all-weather tires were still getting traction in the increasing acc.u.mulation of icy snow.

Through the narrowing vision path blasted by her wipers and defroster, she could barely make out the smaller vehicle as it cut in front of her and barreled onto the bridge. All four boys screamed as she pulled over, shaken by the irresponsibility of the other driver.

Mom and boys all watched with suspended breathing as the small car slid precariously close to the right guardrail of the bridge. Then, as the driver appeared to over-correct, the vehicle plunged through the guardrail on the opposite side, into the icy waters. As the boys began to cry, Soccer Mom pressed in nine-one-one on her cell phone.

Chapter 56.

At six a.m. the following morning, Rae was out in the wake of the storm, a.s.sessing the remnants of her garden. As she knocked snow off trees and shrubs with a broom, a pale sun s.h.i.+vered in the eastern sky.

Rae surveyed the ruin around her. Rose bushes in the midst of their final blooming for the season were stripped. Whole sections of Russian olive trees were strewn across the lawn. One big, broken cottonwood branch lay across the back gate. She could almost hear the trees groaning. The snow and ice were supposed to wait until all the leaves were gone and the sap stored safely underground.

The cell phone in the pocket of her thermal coveralls vibrated. Who'd be calling at six a.m.? Her heart lurched as she grabbed the phone and looked at the caller ID.

”Veronica?” Relief. Not one of the kids. ”Hey, what's up?”

”Me. I've been up all night. There was an accident on the Graystone Lake Bridge last night. Teenager going too fast for road conditions.”

”Not--”

”Oh, no one you know. And he survived. Broken bones and frostbite. His car was totaled, though.”

”You called because...”