Part 21 (1/2)
With a sudden, astonis.h.i.+ng clarity, she remembered the moment when she felt death in the hospital emergency room and Alva's voice telling her to hold on, to not give in. That had happened, hadn't it? It hadn't been an illusion created by the building pressure of hemorrhaging blood against her brain. How had she forgotten?
She tapped the mirrored gla.s.s with her fingernail. ”Because, you idiot, you nearly died. A lot of things have slipped your mind.”
Be strong, Maris. Always be strong.
Yes, she was remembering that, too-Alva's voice in life, instructing, molding, urging her to accept what she was and to do right by it.
Dan appeared in the mirror behind her. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. He kissed the side of her head, the scarred side, with tenderness. ”Are you sure you're good?”
She reached up behind and stroked his jaw, resting her hand against his face after. ”There may come a time when I will tell you to do something, and you must do it, without question. You will know the moment when it arrives.”
His chest rose and fell against her spine with only a small hitch in his respiration. He pressed his mouth into the cup of her palm. ”Okay.”
Simple. Trusting. Her stomach plummeted.
When they arrived at the Timeless, there was a ten-minute wait for a table due to normal Sat.u.r.day morning business. Dan gave his name and then suggested a walk in the back garden. Maris readily agreed. She loved gardens. The act of gardening in her own small plot kept her sane and balanced. She noted with delight the plantings had been well thought out, sun-loving blossoms giving way to the hardier blooms of shorter days and cooler nights with no glaring break between. Delicate fragrance perfumed the air, unlike summer's heady scents.
”This place grows less familiar to me each time we come here. I expect it wouldn't have been the same even if your friends hadn't made so many changes. Twenty years is a long time.”
She sat on a nearby bench. Instead of joining her, Dan continued down the crushed stone path, idly checking out the flora, hands folded behind his back. He paused beneath the spreading branches of a maple tree large enough to have been original to the yard she'd played in as a child. After a moment, he took a step back, looking from side to side and out toward the street beyond the white, wooden fence. Then his gaze returned to a study of the tree itself. He glanced at her over his shoulder.
Maris rose. ”What is it?”
He strode back in her direction. ”I think ten minutes is up. We should head back inside. We don't want to lose our table.”
Oh, Dan, you're a horribly poor liar. Had he seen someone out in the street to cause alarm? But he didn't appear nervous or on the alert. Besides, wouldn't he have dealt with such a person immediately? Maris tucked her hand into his arm. ”A penny for your thoughts.”
”Really? Do people still say that?”
”I said it. I'm people.”
”I have a lot on my mind, as you can imagine. But I want us to enjoy breakfast, so we won't talk about any of it.”
Summarily dismissed, Maris nodded agreement. ”Do you like flowers?”
”They're all right.”
”Yeah, the yard in front of your townhouse is pretty bland.”
”Well, maybe you can remedy-never mind.”
Right. Not the time of year and not her job. Springtime was for planting, or bulbs after the first frost of autumn, but with the undefined nature of their relations.h.i.+p and everything hanging over their heads, she certainly wouldn't be around for either. Perhaps she could leave him detailed instructions and come back at some point to see how he'd gotten on. If, however, she ended up in jail...
”I can't be charged without real evidence, can I?”
”Circ.u.mstantial cases have been made and even successfully prosecuted-”
”Dan, that's not making me feel any better.”
”Sorry.”
She shook his arm and released it to follow the hostess's lead to a table. As Dan proceeded to the seat on the opposite side, his cell signaled the receipt of a text with a melodic three-note chime. He pulled the phone from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and tucked the instrument away.
Maris nodded toward his hip. ”You can take care of that.”
”We're eating. I'll deal with it later.”
They were each handed a list of breakfast specials by the hostess before she made her way back to the register. Maris noted a disclaimer on the bottom of her menu. ”So, they're only open for breakfast on Sat.u.r.days. Doesn't having the restaurant attached ruin the homey bed-and-breakfast feel?”
”There's a dining room for the Inn's guests inside.”
He'd withdrawn. Maris began to suspect the recent text wasn't his first, and perhaps he'd received one in the garden she hadn't noticed. As if on cue, the cell rang in his pocket, m.u.f.fled by denim.
”d.a.m.n it. Maris, I'll be right back.” Dan pushed away from the table and hurried out of the room. Maris held the menu sheet up as if reading but watched Dan through the wall of windows as he paced back and forth beyond the potted mums, the phone to his ear and his free hand clenched against his thigh.
”Are you ready to order or are you waiting for your husband?”
”He's not-I'm waiting, thank you. Could I have a cup of coffee, though?” The server nodded and went to get the pot. Maris turned the dainty mug upright on the saucer, then returned her gaze to Dan. Spinning on his heel, his eyes searched the glazed reflection in front of him as if he sought her out.
”Oh, s.h.i.+t.” Maris glanced quickly around to make sure her voice hadn't carried. When she looked back, Dan had hung up and was making his way at a swift pace toward the door. He arrived at the table together with the waitress, who poured the coffee into Maris's waiting cup.
”And you, sir?”
He nodded absently, taking his seat. Maris reached across and turned his cup over. ”Dan?”
”It's all right. We'll eat, and then we have to go to the station.”
Dan walked Maris down the hall to the interview room where Jamie stood outside the open door. He nodded at Dan and took Maris's arm, leading her inside. The door shut behind them.
The on-duty officers were out of the station, leaving it strangely quiet. He used to like those days, when activity ebbed and waned with the stretches of silence in between. There weren't many of them. Today, however, it made him feel alone.
Dan turned away from the door and headed to his office to await the outcome of this latest interview. Pa.s.sing Jamie's office door, he noticed a pile of photo alb.u.ms on the corner of the desk. Following a split second of indecision, he stepped inside and flipped the top one open. Yes, these had come from Alva Mabry's place. With a keen ear to noises in the corridor, Dan began to flip through them. Without Maris beside him to explain, he had no idea who any of these people were with the exception of the younger Alva, due to the remarkable similarity between the woman and her grandniece. Even though nothing he was doing could compromise Jamie's case, his heartbeat raced. He'd been pulled from the investigation. He had no business- ”What the f.u.c.k?” Dan whispered.
With a quick check of the hallway, Dan returned to the alb.u.m and flipped back and forth between several pages. Various photos had been pulled, whether recently or over the years he couldn't tell. But the white squares on yellowed paper were obvious indication that a photo had once rested beneath the plastic. One or two more might not be missed. He couldn't point these out to Jamie until he'd asked some questions, but he didn't want his access to them cut off either. Dan slipped the photos into his breast pocket and restored the alb.u.ms to their place. The topmost slid off. He caught it on the way down before the photo book hit the floor, pages falling open to a series of children's images. A p.r.i.c.kling chill danced between his shoulder blades. He yanked out another photograph from one of these and put the alb.u.m back.
Out in the corridor, he heard the rattle of a doork.n.o.b. He s.n.a.t.c.hed a cup from the water cooler and placed it beneath the tap as an excuse for being outside Jamie's office. The interview room door opened. Maris stepped out, her countenance pale as paper. Quickly Dan filled the cup and held it out to her as she walked stiffly toward him.
”Thanks.” Her hand shook as she took the cup.
”What's happened?”
Jamie exited the interview room. His eyes met Dan's in silence and held as he strode along the hall to his office. Without a word, he went inside and closed the door.
”They didn't get anything from either station. The video camera was broken at one, but the clerk didn't remember me there. He was shown a picture. He said Her, I would remember,' but he didn't. I turned out my purse on the table in front of Jamie, went through every sc.r.a.p of paper for the hundredth time. I even ripped the lining to look inside. The receipt's not anywhere, Dan.”