Buried Secrets, page 11
He ignored her question and her display of affection to walk over to the mat in the corner where his empty stainless bowl sat. He picked it up and brought it to her, dropping it on the floor at her feet with a reverberating bang. She laughed. “Got it, my man. I know, I know. I’m late with breakfast. You and her both.” She nodded toward the stairs. “She’d throw a bowl at me too if she had one to throw.” His dark eyes never moved from her face, as if to say, hurry up.
After she’d filled his bowl with a scoop of high-grade kibble topped by the custom meat-and-vegetable mixture she made for him, she set it on his mat and then turned to go check on the patient. She got halfway up the stairs before the yelling began. “Why are you hurting me like this? I need my medications. A child could do a better job. Why did God curse me with that inconsiderate girl?”
She had a similar question with a little bit of a twist to it. Why did God put her in this messed-up family? “I’m on the way, Mother.”
“Hurry up. I shouldn’t have to feel like this.”
And I shouldn’t have to be your nurse, but here we are. “I’m coming.” She stepped into the bedroom with the cup of tea she’d made before leaving the kitchen. The room smelled of sickness, sweat, and ugliness. Well, if ugliness had a smell. She handed her mother the tea, along with several of the meds from the array of brown bottles on the dresser. In the short time she’d been here, she’d become an expert at knowing what to give her and when. If she could wish for one more bottle, it would have been some kind of magic to turn her mother into one that loved and valued both her children. Something to wipe away the unpleasantness that defined her entire childhood. The nightstand pharmacy came up lacking on that score, though one could always hope.
Tea dripped down her mother’s chin, and Tuesday used a cloth napkin to wipe it away. No paper napkins in this house. God forbid they use something so common. Mother never missed an opportunity to display her superior, or what she considered superior, pedigree. No one in the county had to guess what family she hailed from. The teacup clattered to the tray, amber liquid slopping over the rim and pooling around the bottom of the cup.
“Why did you make it so hot? You know I don’t do scalding. Why can’t you get anything right? October knows exactly how I like my tea.”
She ignored the digs. “Not that hot, Mother. You’re just a little more sensitive right now. Give it a minute to cool.”
“I don’t want to wait for a minute. I want it now. When is October going to get here? He knows how to make my tea.” She wasn’t going to let it go. Shocker. Surprised she didn’t dump it on the floor and demand Tuesday run downstairs to make another.
“He’s on his way.” He better be driving this way, or she’d go find him and drag him out here.
She pushed the tray away. “You said that yesterday. You’re lying to me. You always lie to me. You were a terrible child, and you didn’t grow up any better. Lies, all lies.”
“No, Mother. I do not lie to you. He told me he’d be here, and that’s all I know. I don’t have a GPS on him.”
“You’re a big hotshot officer. You should be able to do your magic and track his whereabouts. If you really cared about me, you’d find out.”
“I’m not working any longer, and even if I were still working, I wouldn’t use government resources to track down your little baby. It doesn’t work that way. You want him to hurry up, you call him and tell him to get here.” Okay, maybe it would have been better not to be snarky. Not sorry. It felt good to push back.
She snorted. “You think that’s insulting? He is my baby boy, and he’ll always be my baby boy. There’s nothing wrong with that. You make it sound dirty, but it’s all in your dirty mind.” She coughed and her body shook. “Why haven’t these medications kicked in? You need to call the doctor. They need to give me something stronger. Why haven’t you done that yet? I shouldn’t suffer like this.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake. She’d call the doctor all right and tell him the old bat should be in the hospital or hospice care. Every passing minute made it a whole lot clearer that she wasn’t going to be able to do this much longer. If she didn’t break out in hives all over her body before the day finished, it would be a miracle. Her palms were already itching.
“I’ll talk to the doctor.” Enough of poking the bear. It wasn’t getting her anywhere. Better to get her comfortable, get her sleeping, and then take a walk. Fresh air would go a long way toward her own relaxation and stamina to continue through the day with her highness.
Before she meandered out, she’d called in for a bit of covert help. What her mother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. She’d lose her mind if she didn’t take time to get out and away. Just like when she’d been a kid and the constant berating became too much. She’d escaped with the horses, riding with the wind in her hair and kissing her skin. Even the worst rainstorms had been better than staying in the house with her. Cold and soaked always preferable to crushed and demoralized.
No horses or rainstorms now, but she could at least hike through the fields and the woods, let Tripper run to his heart’s content, and breathe in clear, fresh air. Release some endorphins and smile at Tripper’s joy. Maybe then she’d be able to maintain until October got here. She hoped.
“Fine. I need a shower.” Her mother shoved at the tray again, and it nearly tipped, teacup and all, to the floor. Tuesday caught it before it tumbled off the bed, saving herself from another round of carpet cleanup.
The process of getting her mother undressed, showered, re-dressed, and settled in a chair while she changed the bedding took the better part of an hour. She complained the whole time. The chair wasn’t comfortable. She didn’t like the shirt she’d put on. Tuesday wasn’t making the bed the way she liked it. The complaints finally started to taper off. The meds, thank the good Lord, appeared to be kicking in, her words getting slower, more slurred. The heart still willing to continue the tirade, the body not.
“Tell October to make sure it’s secure.” Her head leaned back against the chair, her eyes closed. “It’s important. I can’t check it anymore.”
“What’s secure?” She tucked the sheets and blanket in.
“Don’t be stupid. You’ve always been stupid. Just tell him.” Her words grew softer and softer.
“Whatever.” She wasn’t about to argue with her. Get her in bed and then get out of here.
“They can’t find it.”
“They won’t.” She had no clue what her mother meant, just figured it would be better to play along. Probably meant securing the corrals or the paddock. Not that it mattered right now because the horses were gone, and she didn’t see them ever coming back. Pity. They were the one good thing about this place. About her family.
“I’m tired. I want to lie down. Can you please hurry up for a change? I need to get back into my bed, and it needs to be clean.”
Why, yes, she could hurry. She helped her into the bed, complete with the required clean sheets, and sat in the chair until she heard even, steady breathing. Not because her mother wanted her to stay with her until she drifted into sleep. No, more because she didn’t want to get back downstairs only to have her start yelling again. Better to hang out and make sure she slept.
She studied the woman who’d raised her, for better or worse, heavy on the worse. Her once-jet-black hair had thinned and turned a dull shade of white. She prayed her own dark blond hair, more like her father’s, would not follow suit. It wasn’t one of those aging shades that possessed life and depth. No, her mother’s hair had turned pasty and flat.
Thank goodness she looked nothing like the woman in the bed, either before or after the cancer, and that gave her hope, petty as that might be. She’d never acted like her either. Dad might have left them during her formative years, but he’d been around enough to be a good role model for Tuesday. She’d always prided herself on being like her father and nothing like her mother.
She waited a few more minutes to make sure her mother slept soundly before getting up from the bedside chair. The fact that she could leave the room now, aided by the baby monitor on the nightstand, straightened her shoulders. Pretty clear she’d never get over the anxiety caused by being in the same room with her.
The doorbell rang before she made it to the bottom of the stairs. October? No. That didn’t make sense. He believed he owned the ranch, and ringing a doorbell would never occur to the lord and master.
She opened the door and smiled. “Well, hi.” For reasons she couldn’t explain, seeing Addie’s face made her whole morning.
* * *
Addie smiled. “Good morning.” The shadows on Tuesday’s face when she pulled open the door made her wonder about the kind of morning she looked to be having. It pleased her to see them fade as she took in who stood on her doorstep. Nice to be greeted by someone glad to see her. That typically didn’t happen in her line of work. Hard to count the number of times a door had been slammed in her face. She rarely took it personally. Had it happened this morning, it would have crushed her.
“I’m surprised to see you.”
“I’m surprised I came here, and hopefully, I’m not intruding.”
“Not at all. Happy to see a friendly face. What brings you here so bright and early?”
Decision time. Did she make something up or admit to why she really drove over here at what could be considered rudely early? “Any chance you can go for a walk?” Yup, buying time to decide which course to take. Not her usual swagger.
Tuesday pressed her lips together and nodded. “Yeah. I can do a walk. That would be nice. It’s been a long morning already, and I could use some time outside in the sunshine. Come on in while I put on my boots and get my phone.”
“Been a long and interesting one for me too.” She followed Tuesday into the kitchen, where she grabbed hiking boots from a rug next to the back door. Sitting in a chair, she slipped into them and laced them up. Tripper appeared from around the corner and came to stand next to her. The footwear appeared to signal an adventure to him.
She liked the dog. Something about him radiated intelligence and a good sense of people. He watched her with an intensity that signaled only interest. She’d always trusted dogs when it came to distinguishing good from bad. They were much better at it than most people, her included. She’d made more than one mistake trusting the wrong person. Though she’d worked with dogs and their handlers on a few occasions, she’d never had the opportunity to be around one when not working.
Tuesday stood, checked an app on her phone. She looked up and noticed Addie watching her. “A monitor for her.” She nodded up. The sick mother . “A neighbor is on the way over to keep an eye on her, but this way, I’ll know if I’m needed back here. It’s got both a monitor unit and an app with a pretty impressive range.”
The tech available these days had a way of making things both easier and more complicated. Information at her fingertips enabled her to work a lot more efficiently and from anywhere. Even far out here in what felt like the middle of nowhere, she remained connected. Mary and Conchita could reach her if they had anything pressing or came up with information that might aid in her search for Anthony. Or issue a safety alert as Conchita did this morning. She liked technology and the fact that it allowed Tuesday to go for that walk. That she found herself relying on it a bit too much might not be great for her mental health. She could deal with it.
“That’s a great idea.” Also made her feel a little less guilty about taking Tuesday away from her mother knowing she could monitor her in case she needed to rush back to the house. A perfect instance of it being a good thing.
Tuesday opened the back door and motioned for her. “Come on. I could seriously use some fresh air, and Tripper is always up for a good run. Even though…” She rubbed the top of his head. “He’s already been out several times. He’s game to run all day if I’d let him. He doesn’t get to do this in the city, so it’s a real treat for him.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready to run.” She preferred hiking and walking. Never had been one to think running had any value beyond escaping danger. If she had to, she would. If she had a choice, nope.
Tuesday’s laugh sounded warm, friendly. “No. We walk. He runs.”
“Then I’m down.” Together they went out the back door and started across the impressive lawn. Green and tidy, with nary a hint of dandelions or clover. Someone did a good job of keeping the landscape in pristine shape. “This is nice.”
Tuesday looked around and smiled. “It appears that way, doesn’t it?”
“What’s that mean?” Her voice put Addie on alert. She’d heard that tone before. In her own voice.
“You’re an investigator, and I’d make a hefty wager you’ve seen more than your share of family dynamics. Or at least that’s what I’m assuming.”
“Not wrong.” She could write volumes about the things she’d seen.
“Didn’t think so.” Tuesday glanced back at the big house. “Then you understand all that glitters is not gold.”
Wow. She understood that statement right down into her soul. A lesson learned long before her work as a PI. One reinforced many times over since the start of her career. “Oh, yes, I most definitely do.”
“Smart and beautiful.” Tuesday smiled at her, which sent warmth through her. “So, let’s meander out of the homestead and into the woods. I find it more peaceful there. The farther away from here I can get, the easier I can breathe.”
An interesting story within her words. Would she hear it? “Sounds perfect. I’ve always been a fan of hiking in the mountains. Where I come from, real mountains are few and far between.” She didn’t add that she understood how Tuesday felt. Escape had been her favorite pastime growing up. Anywhere to get away from the constant chaos.
“And that would be?”
“Omaha.”
Tuesday walked at an easy pace, her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “Never been there.”
“It’s got its high points, but not exactly the mountainous kind.”
Her laugh warmed Addie all over. “I’ve been to parts of the Midwest, but I have to tell you, I’m partial to my western mountains. They work for me. Make me feel grounded.”
“I like them too, even being a Midwest girl at heart. Omaha is a big city that I know well, and it’s home. Drive a little way out, and it all changes into vast fields and rolling hills. It’s beautiful. Serene. Like you, I feel grounded there.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It can be, except for the occasional tornado or blizzard, but hey. No matter where you go, there’s always something.” She’d been all over the country and stayed in some gorgeous places where she could envision herself living. She always returned home without taking time to dissect the reasons why.
They’d walked for a few minutes in silence before Tuesday said, “Tell me. What brings you out this early in the morning?”
Bound to come around full circle, so she had to make a quick decision. Tell her what she really came for or make up something? It took only a second. She’d already shared one major secret with her, so what the hell. Go big or go home. She wasn’t going home. “A gun.”
* * *
God, the drive bored the living shit out of October. Mile after mile of pasture lands or, in a few more miles, rocks and tumbleweeds. Hard to understand how anyone could look at this and decide it would be a good place to be. Nothing to look at. Nothing to do. He could never be content here and was quite certain he’d hate the people who were.
This wasn’t a new trip to him, and usually he made his way across the more desert-like landscape of central Washington without it getting under his skin. A little different today. Perhaps it had more to do with the nature of the trip than the route. Being summoned like a soldier under orders didn’t sit well with him. He preferred to roll with living his life on his terms, and this felt more like an obligation. Really, who did he owe anything to? Top it off with the call from Bo and the implosion of his lucrative art career as Tobe Roc, and it sort of made sense. Who wouldn’t be twitchy under those circumstances?
At the first exit to Ellensburg, he pulled off, the faint scent specific to cattle feedlots wafting through the car window he’d opened a few inches. Though it wasn’t the fresh air he’d been going for, he ignored that unpleasant odor and concentrated on the perks of the place. College towns had a way of offering fun that others didn’t. Since he was passing through, it made sense to take advantage of it before he got burdened with the obligation waiting just shy of two hundred miles away.
Two twenty-something women walked down the sidewalk as he drove into town. Blue jeans and hoodies, bags slung over their shoulders. Coeds with such potential. It wasn’t that he had a particular affinity for the young, because he didn’t. He liked everyone—young, old, and all those in between. Fun could be found in anybody and everybody if one looked hard enough. He looked plenty.
The problem with searching for fun in a college town came with the fact that the day had just begun. Students were in class, and it would likely be a few hours before festivities with any real substance could commence. He’d have to find something to do while he waited.
He could, and probably should, keep driving, except that didn’t work for him. Not ready to settle into drudgery, or forced labor, as he thought of it, quite yet. Although it occurred to him that he could come full circle and kick it where it all started. The more he thought about it, the more appeal it held. Made more of an adventure out of the return to the home fires.
He sat in the parking lot of a bar, the neon sign flashing Open , and debated whether it would be worth going in. He glanced in the rearview mirror. Tiny lines around his eyes made him wonder about his appeal to the younger set. No denying the march of the years. Nobody could, regardless of what they might want to believe or how much money they put into anti-aging products and procedures. For his age, he looked damn good. But he didn’t look like a coed regardless of the benefits of self-care.
Ten years ago, it had been easier to blend in and make the small talk that put younger men and women at ease. With no particular preference for one sex, he searched only for who appealed to him at the moment. Equality worked for him. Excitement abounded in the thrills that came from engaging with both men and women. A beautiful thing to be open to all possibilities. He didn’t understand why it threatened so many people.
