A Killing in the Valley (23 page)

Luke frowned. “Even so, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.

“Are you worried about her?” Kate asked. He had pushed her alarm button, the one she had fought earlier to suppress.

“No,” he answered. “I’m thinking more about Steven, about him being around a girl who’s the same age as the one he’s accused of killing. The press or the D.A. gets hold of that, it could make our lives messier.” He started flipping the hunks of meat over. “Which we don’t need, we’re messed up enough with this case already.” He took a hit off his beer. “Why don’t you go hang with Riva?” he suggested. “She was saying the other day how she’d like to see you more often.”

“Me, too,” Kate said. She knocked her beer bottle against his. “Cook ’em good, partner.”

She walked over to Riva, who was sitting at a wrought-iron table with her two-year-old daughter perched on her knee. Riva smiled as Kate sat down next to her.

“How are you?” Riva asked warmly. “Long time no see.”

“It’s been hectic.” Kate dipped some guacamole onto a chip and offered it up to little Claire. “Is it okay?” she asked.

“Sure.”

The girl had her mother’s dark, exotic looks. She opened her mouth like a sightless baby bird, and Kate slipped the chip in. God, how long had it been since one of hers was this tiny, she thought? The days go slow, but the years fly by.

Riva leaned back in her chair, catching the dying rays on her face. “It’s such a nice day,” she said dreamily. “I’m glad you could come.”

“Me, too.”

“No man tonight?” Riva asked.

“No man,” Kate answered.

For a long time, not having a man in her life felt good, liberating. She had made some bad choices in that area, and she needed space to regroup and rejuvenate. But that was getting old. She wasn’t looking for love, or even a hot romance, but it would be nice to get laid. She couldn’t remember the last time she had gone this long without sex.

She looked over at Riva, whose little girl was cuddling up against her. She has it made, Kate thought with a pang of jealousy. Luke was one of the good guys, a true prize. Once in a while, when she lay in bed at night bringing herself off with her fingers, she conjured him up. It was always satisfying.

But that was all that would happen with Luke—a solitary, nighttime fantasy. She’d had affairs with married men and had not regretted them, nor had she felt any guilt, either for herself or for their wives. She was certain that human beings were not naturally monogamous. They stayed faithful to their mates because of social pressures and fear of discovery. And occasionally, as seemed to be the case with Luke and Riva, because of love and knowing that nothing out there was any better, or even as good.

She didn’t sleep with married men anymore, though. Not because of them, but because of her. She had decided that if she had sex with a man she wanted the possibility of something more—a relationship. Not that one might happen, but that it could, that there was the chance. Unfortunately, she hadn’t met any single men who turned her on. There weren’t that many around who qualified, and she didn’t have the time to pursue them, should one arise. Maybe there was a surprise around the next corner—that would be nice—but she had reconciled herself to being alone and celibate until next year, when Sophia was at college.

That was another thing. She didn’t want Sophia to wake up and find a strange man coming out of her mother’s bedroom. There had been instances of that in the past. It had always felt dirty.

“I wish I knew someone to fix you up with,” Riva said, breaking into her imaginings. “But I don’t know any decent men around here except the fathers of Buck and Claire’s playmates, and they’re all attached. None of them are your type, anyway.”

“Thanks, but I’m not in the market right now anyway,” Kate told her. “I don’t have time for a hot new romance.”

“But if one were to drop into your lap,” Riva teased her.

“I’d try not to fumble it.”

She drank the rest of her beer. It was warm. She got up and helped herself to another one from the Igloo. If she wound up drinking too much she would take a cab home and get her car in the morning. Even without a partner, she was going to have fun tonight.

Sophia showed up as Luke was slicing the tri-tip. Her face and arms were bronzed from being out in the sun. “Hey,” she said, giving her mother a peck on the cheek as she got in line to fill a plate. “Smells good.”

“You got here in the nick of time,” Kate told her. “Have you been at the ranch all day? You’re three shades darker. You remembered to put plenty of lotion on, didn’t you?”

Sophia nodded. “It was glorious out there, Mom. Just like in the western movies, but a million times better. And yes, I was slathered in SPF 30, don’t worry. Juanita made sure of that. She’s been putting sunscreen on for fifty years, even before they found out the sun was bad for you. It’s why she hardly has any wrinkles, even though she’s old.”

They carried their food to one of the tables, sitting down next to Riva, who was cutting up a piece of meat for Claire. “She’s a smart cookie,” Kate agreed. “So how did the lesson go?”

“Super,” Sophia beamed. “Juanita says I’m a natural.”

“So you’ve told me. Both of you.”

“I’m going out again next weekend. I love it out there.”

Luke plunked down next to Riva. He had made up plates of food for both of them. “Where’s the Buckmeister?” he asked.

“With his buddies,” she said, pointing with her fork to a table across from them, where half a dozen boys, aged six to ten, were chowing down. “Fraternity row.”

“Ah so,” he said, smiling. God, how fast they grow up, he thought. He looked at Sophia. It couldn’t have been too many years ago that she was his son’s age. Now she was a woman. “Glad you could make it,” he told her. “Your mom says you’ve been out at the McCoy ranch, taking horseback-riding lessons.”

“Yes, I have,” she answered.

“I’ll bet Mrs. McCoy’s a good teacher.” He cut into his tri-tip.

“She’s really good. I’ve learned so much in such a short time.”

Luke asked the question Kate had wanted to ask but had been afraid to. “Did you see Steven McCoy out there?”

Sophia nodded. “He was out in one of the pastures, helping Juanita’s foreman fix a fence. We talked to them.”

“You talked to him?” Kate blurted out.

Sophia looked at her with puzzlement. “Yeah, Mom. It would’ve been rude not to, wouldn’t it?”

“So you and Juanita McCoy rode right up to them and had a conversation?” Luke asked, keeping his tone light, the question almost a throwaway.

“Yes.” Sophia took a bite of tri-tip. “This is delicious, Mr. Garrison.”

“Thanks. And it’s Luke, to you. For how long?”

“Did we talk? I don’t know. A couple of minutes, I guess.” Sophia looked at her mother. “Is there something wrong?”

Kate thought for a moment. “It’s not about right or wrong, Sophia,” she said carefully. This was a potential minefield. “It’s about appearances.”

“Because he’s been accused of murder?”

Luke answered for Kate. “Yes.”

“But he didn’t do it.” Sophia looked from Luke to her mother. “Isn’t that right? So why shouldn’t I be able to talk to him?”

Kate had no answer. She turned to Luke.

Luke skirted Sophia’s question. “It would be better if you didn’t have any contact at all with Steven McCoy, for his own good. He needs to not only be completely clean, he needs to
appear
that he is. I’m not going to go into his bail conditions with you, but they’re tight. If the police went out there, which they can and will do without notice, and saw him with you or any girl, even if there were other people around, it would look bad for him.”

Sophia stared at him. “That’s stupid.”

“It is,” Luke agreed. “But that’s how it is.”

Sophia pushed away from the table. “I’m not going to stop taking riding lessons, Mom,” she told Kate stubbornly. “You can’t make me.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” Kate said. She felt miserable about this. “I want you to use common sense, though. You can take riding lessons from Juanita without having anything to do with Steven.” She took Sophia’s hand. “Come on. Eat your food. Let’s have a good time. We’ll deal with this later.”

“So I can keep going?” Sophia asked. She wanted to nail this down.

Luke smiled at her. “Of course you can. Like your mother says—use discretion. You wouldn’t want him to get into any more trouble than he already has, would you?”

“No,” Sophia answered. She thought back to the feeling that had come upon her like a fast-rising fever when she saw Steven out in the field, his shirt off, his body tight and gleaming with sweat like a young, oiled god. She didn’t want to get him into any more trouble. She didn’t want to get herself into trouble, either.

“I wouldn’t want to,” she told Luke and her mother. What she actually didn’t want, she left unsaid.

Luke drove out to the ranch Monday morning. He sat at Juanita McCoy’s kitchen table with her and Steven.

“I’ll make this short, sweet, and clear,” he told them. There was no smile in his voice, as there usually was when he talked to Juanita. “You need to stay clear of Sophia Blanchard or any girl, or any woman, who comes out here,” he said, staring at Steven. “No exceptions. Is that understood?”

Steven looked back at him with flat eyes. “What about the lady cop who comes out here to check up on me? Her, too?”

“Don’t get cute on me,” Luke shot back at him. “I’m not in the mood. Anyone other than cops or other officials who have business with you.”

Steven didn’t break eye contact. “Why am I being treated like a leper?” he complained. “I didn’t do anything. Isn’t it bad enough that I’m going on trial for a murder I didn’t commit, that I’m missing my senior year of college, that I’m probably fucked from ever going to med school, even when I’m acquitted? What about
my
rights?”

Luke was annoyed that Steven had used the word “fuck” around his grandmother. “You’re out on bail,” he told Steven testily. “That’s a major right which you don’t seem to appreciate. If it wasn’t for your grandmother you’d be sitting in the county jail picking lint out of your belly button, so stop bitching and get your head straight. You do what I tell you, when I tell you, and how I tell you. End of discussion. Are we copacetic about that?”

“Yes,” Steven answered frostily. “We’re copacetic. Like in a Clint Eastwood movie, right? Your way or the highway.” He stood up. “I’ve got work to do with Keith.”

He walked out of the kitchen. The door slammed behind him. Juanita shook her head. “I apologize for Steven’s rude behavior, and his potty mouth. I’m sorry about this. He’s under a lot of strain.”

“I know that,” Luke told her, “but he needs an attitude transplant, and he needs it right now. If he comes into the courtroom with that chip on his shoulder, we could have the best case in the world and we’d still lose.” He leaned in toward her. “I’m going to be straight with you, Mrs. McCoy. We don’t have the best case in the world. You’re a smart woman, I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. I’m running as fast as I can, but I’m not making a hell of a lot of headway. So he’s got to get with the program. Which means he has to stay clear of everyone who comes here. Especially Sophia. I could lose my detective over this, Kate Blanchard was really steamed about it. She’s a hundred percent professional, but she’s also a mother.”

Juanita nodded somberly. “I understand.”

“And you have to do your part.”

She looked up in surprise. “What else should I do?”

“Your ranch is how big, fifteen thousand acres?”

“Eighteen thousand,” she corrected him.

“So in all this eighteen thousand acres, you couldn’t find enough space to ride around with Sophia Blanchard without running into Steven?”

Juanita flushed. “I wanted to see how Steven was doing,” she told him. Her voice quivered with contrition. “I wasn’t thinking. I apologize.”

Luke was sure no one talked to Juanita McCoy as bluntly as he had just done, but he needed her to understand how important this was. “Okay,” he said, backing off. “No harm, no foul. Sophia really likes you, and she loves learning to ride. I don’t want to have to take that away from her.”

“I like her, too,” Juanita said. “She’s special. I don’t want to do anything to hurt her, or to hurt Steven’s chances, either. I’ll keep them separated from each other any time she’s out here. They won’t even see each other,” she promised.

Sophia and a girl Kate hadn’t met were lounging on the couch, watching television, when Kate came in. It was a few minutes after seven. When Kate knew Sophia was going to be home for dinner she tried to finish work by six, but today had been particularly busy. Luke wasn’t the only lawyer she worked for, and although none of the other cases she was currently involved with were as dire, they still needed to be taken care of. Two of them were going to court next week—a drug situation with teenagers, and a tough custody battle. Both had needed her immediate attention.

The girls looked up as Kate closed the door and started leafing through the mail. “Hey, Mom,” Sophia called.

“Hi.” A few bills, mostly throwaways. Nothing that needed to be read immediately. She came into the living room. “What’re you up to?” She looked at the set. VH1 was on, an Avril Lavigne video. She plopped down into the easy chair that was catty-corner to the couch.

“Nothing,” Sophia answered. “We’re on break from play rehearsal, so we came here. We’re heating up a pizza in the oven. It’ll be ready in a few minutes. There’s plenty, if you want some.”

“Maybe,” Kate said. She needed to cut down on the carbs, but pizza sounded good.

“Mom, this is Tina,” Sophia said. “Tina, this is my mom.”

The other girl stood up. “It is nice to meet you, Mrs. Blanchard,” she said formally in a high, soft, Spanish-accented voice.

“Thank you,” Kate replied. She looked the girl over. Pretty, with delicate features. Less robust than her own child. “You’re in the play, too?”

“Tina’s on the tech squad,” Sophia explained. “She’s too shy to make a fool of herself in front of six hundred people, like me. Or too smart.”

The girl blushed.

“I’m sure it’s the latter,” Kate said. “It’s nice to meet you, Tina.”