Part 4 (1/2)
Ray pulled a Corona from the refrigerator, popped the cap, and took a long slug. ”Think of it as a timeout. He's not going to sit around and watch television, that's for sure.”
”Did you find the owner of the Camry?” Not to mention whoever cut off that poor woman's arm?
”It was stolen from a used car lot outside Geneseo. They reported it missing on Monday. They didn't care if it was ever recovered. Their insurance will pay for the repairs to the front end.”
”So how did it get to the psych center parking lot?”
Ray opened the refrigerator and started digging in the drawer. ”I'm guessing the thief left it there.”
”Could Danny's father have stolen it before his arrest?”
”Anything's possible. He's not admitting to it.”
”What about the arm?”
Ray pulled a package of cheese from the drawer and ate two slices. ”What's for dinner?”
It always amazed me that severed arms and dead bodies did not keep Ray from food. I tried not to look as guilty as I felt about having failed to prepare him a meal. ”I didn't know when to expect you or if Danny would be with you.”
He tossed the cheese on the counter. ”How about grilled cheese sandwiches and soup?”
I busied myself with opening cans of clam chowder and microwaving them while Ray slathered b.u.t.ter on the bread and sandwiched the cheese slices. I wasn't going to let him ignore the elephant on the table, however. ”What about the arm, Ray?”
”They're looking for fingerprint matches. We haven't had any calls about a missing local woman, so we put the word out we have an arm and no body.”
”Were there any fingerprints in the Camry?”
”Dozens. They're being matched as well. I'm not holding my breath.” He opened the oven and slid the tray of sandwiches under the broiler.
”Did Danny tell you anything else? Why did he take off in the first place?”
Ray leaned against the oven door with his arms folded. ”He wanted to see his dad.”
My heart panged in sympathy. ”Why didn't he ask me to take him?”
”I don't know. He's impulsive.”
Was that understatement supposed to be an excuse or a medical diagnosis? I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer. ”Can he see his father?”
”I told Danny I'd take him to see his dad tomorrow, if he behaves himself.”
Maybe that would relieve some of Danny's distress. ”Was the key in the Camry's ignition?”
”That's what Danny says.”
”But you don't believe him?”
Ray peeked in the oven to check on the sandwiches. He flipped them. ”All I know for sure is the key was in the ignition when the car was stolen from the used car lot. But it didn't have a key chain on it, just one of those white tags with the vehicle identification number written on it.”
”Why would they leave the key in it at the lot? Are they idiots?”
”It needed new brakes. Someone was supposed to pick it up after hours and drive it to the garage.”
So Danny wasn't completely at fault for rear-ending the Volvo. ”Do you think Danny's dad might have stolen the car, put his key chain on it, and left it at the psych center?”
”Maybe. He won't even admit to stealing the Cadillac Escalade he was caught driving.”
I wondered if he'd tried the finders keepers excuse, too. ”Did he tell you anything more about where their things are? Where they lived?”
Ray shook his head as he pulled the tray from the oven. ”We sent his mug shot and a description of Danny to area homeless shelters, but none of them claim to have housed them. I'm beginning to wonder if they lived from stolen car to stolen car. Danny's father does not have any vehicle registered to him in the state of New York.”
What a horrible existence. Again, my heart bled a little for Danny and even for his father.
I scooped the soup into bowls and set them at the breakfast bar. Ray sliced the sandwiches and went to call Danny for dinner while I poured milk.
Danny chose the chair near the wall. He seemed pleased when I sat next to him. Perhaps he feared Ray would fire more questions at him during dinner. But instead Ray formulated a plan of attack for painting Danny's new room that included Danny carrying all the baby furniture to the garage as soon as Ray disa.s.sembled it.
I cleaned up dinner while they started working. Then I contributed to the effort by moving the rocking chair into our living room. We would need the extra seats for our guests tomorrow anyway. I also cleaned the bathrooms and vacuumed the whole house, including Noelle's now empty room.
I told myself the dust from vacuuming had caused the tears to form in my eyes.
____.
Thanksgiving morning we awoke to find two feet of snow on the ground. Ray sent Danny outside to shovel the driveway and the sidewalk while he stuffed the turkey, a task he took great pride in each year. He planned to keep Danny working all morning, and he did. By the time the doorbell rang at a few minutes after two, the bungalow smelled of fresh paint mixed with turkey, pumpkin and apple pie.
Cory had on tan khakis and a gold long-sleeve polo s.h.i.+rt, untucked. Brennan Rowe, a young Robert Redford look-alike and the best-looking man I'd ever met, wore dark-washed jeans and a crisp white dress s.h.i.+rt tucked in neatly. They made a handsome couple.
I introduced Danny to them. Ray prompted him to shake hands. He did, although without much enthusiasm. Once again, I attributed his behavior to being twelve.
While everyone sat down in the living room, I carried Brennan's dish of yams into the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of wine. Both men accepted a gla.s.s. I got Danny root beer and Ray a Corona. Cory uncovered a tray loaded with a variety of mouthwatering tidbits. We dug in, Danny watching glumly.
I started the conversation. ”So Brennan, Cory says you're planning to race your Mazda Protege. Have you decided in what venue?”
”We're looking at the specs for Grand Am Cup racing, although I need more time on the track to qualify for a license in that series.”
”Have you raced before?”
”Some dirt track and rally and vintage at Watkins Glen, which is a good way to work myself up.”
”My dad used to take me to the track at the Glen all the time.” I loved those days, and thinking about them made me miss my dad all the more. Thanksgiving was his favorite holiday.
Erica waltzed in just then, tossing her coat on the rack and leaving her purse by the door.
”I brought cornbread m.u.f.fins from the restaurant. They're really yummy.” She caught sight of Brennan and her eyes widened with pleasure. Then she realized he was with Cory. Her smile faded. She followed me into the kitchen.
”How come all the best-looking guys are gay?”
I lined a bread basket with a napkin and dumped the m.u.f.fins. ”Excuse me, I think Ray is good-looking.”
”Okay, gay or married. All that's left for me is losers.”