Finding Susan (11 page)

“I am calm. You seem awful upset, though. Want me to get you a glass of water, or some valium?”
 

Kate smiled wanly. The joke was weak, and she didn’t put a lot of energy into it. She was pretending, Blake decided. She wasn’t this resolute - it had to be a front.
 

“Now we don’t know what this proves. If anything,” Blake said.

“It proves my sister was here.”
 

“Not necessarily.”

“What, do you think somebody stole it and dropped it here in some elaborate attempt to get us to fix the porch?”

Blake was feeling annoyed now. Kate wasn’t just being strong - she seemed somehow unfeeling to him. Like this new information was expected. But then why shouldn’t it be?

The two of them had quit the front of the house and were inside the living room. Out of habit, they’d taken the locket inside to get a better look, but since the lights weren’t working, they actually had a tougher time making it out. It all suited Blake fine, though. The whole mystery was murky to begin with, no reason it shouldn’t get even harder to wrap his head around.
 

“You didn’t think she came up here at all, did you?”

Kate shrugged. “It was in the realm of possibility that she... well, that she completely flaked out. Blake, you remember how she was when we were kids.”

Blake did. She wasn’t a bad kid. Kate was the one who was always pulling pranks and tricks on people. Susan was different. She was more detached than Kate, less easy to know. That might explain why she seemed nice and Kate so annoying back when they were kids. Kate approached the world with her head, Susan with her heart. Even when they were just teenagers, she’d gotten that broken a half-a-dozen times, and developed the reputation for being the easy girl in town. Blake guessed he always knew but just didn’t think about it, that Susan was just looking for love the wrong ways, in the wrong places.
 

“Well, she got worse after we left Whispering Pines. She was supposed to stay with me, but she hooked up with some guys and went down to Los Angeles. Said she was going to be an actress. The girl doesn’t have a talented bone in her body,” Kate said.

“Come on now, Kate. This is your sister.”

“That means I know her best. I know what she’s like, Blake.” Kate held up the heart locket and looked at it, like she was trying to see something that wasn’t there. This lack of emotion was worrying to Blake. He thought she should be more upset at the revelations that this locket represented.
 

Of course, in the big scheme of things, who cares? he thought. She was going to be heading back to San Francisco and leaving him alone, finally. Any time now.
 

“What is she like these days? I mean, I haven’t seen her in ten years.”

“Same as ever. Has a heart big enough to take in the whole world, and the whole world keeps wiping its feet with her. She invited it. I even got to thinking she enjoyed it in some perverse way.”

Blake stared at the locket as it glinted in the sunlight that streamed in from the open door. He took it from Kate and walked right into the doorway, trying to make out the inscription that was carved into its interior.
 

“You can’t read it. It was illegible even when we first got them.”

“Them?” Blake said. Kate was right - whatever words were there had been scratched out. It looked deliberate. He thought that he could come up with something if he could get it to a lab, but Whispering Pines had almost no forensic facilities and besides, they’d probably have to take the locket apart to figure it out.
 

“I have a ring. Look,” Kate said, displaying her hand for Blake to see. Indeed, she had a silver ring with identical leaf patterning. “Mine didn’t even have an engraving to scratch out. They were from our parents. The only evidence we have that we
had
parents, besides the fact that we exist.”
 

She smiled, and it looked so exquisite, so sad, that for a moment Blake forgot everything. He was lost in a little moment with the sad smile.

Then he came back, cop and all, and took a closer look at the engraving. Perhaps a stenciling could reveal its origin, or an x-ray. That would cost a lot, but if it was part of a missing persons investigation…
 

“You know, Blake, if something’s not there it won’t be there even if you look REAL hard. Besides, I don’t want to know what it says.”
 

“Really?” Blake said, surprised. It didn’t seem like Kate to not be curious. If it were him, and it had nothing to do with a case, he could imagine leaving well enough alone. That wasn’t the average response that Kate had.
 

“I like to think it was a message from mom and dad saying they love us very much, and that they still do wherever they are. It’d be a real disappointment to find the real truth is something closet to ‘Harry’s Discount Silverworks’. I just don’t need to know.”

“Wow,” Blake said. He was looking at the locket again, but he wasn’t trying to find anything in it anymore. It felt different now - a relic that had meaning and heft all its own.
 

“And she just left it here. Dropped it under the damned porch and left it.” Kate was biting her upper lip, looking like she was ready to shout or cry or something. Instead she smiled and laughed. “I’m relieved she didn’t pawn it somewhere.”

“Don’t you think you’re being too hard on her?”

“Yes, but you know what? You can only care about something or someone so much and keep giving and giving and being disappointed before you have to give up.”

There was a long silence. Kate looked out the window, and Blake tried to look like he was doing the same, but he was really looking at Kate. She was much paler than when they were kids. Must have spent much more time inside with books and convicts than out in the real world. He wondered if she could really like that, a girl this vivacious living in courtrooms and prison visiting centers.
 

“You know, I do have a porch that needs mending, and I’ve got the rest of the house to start fixing up.”

“That’s right. Hey, is there anything else in here you want me to do, while I’m here. I mean...”

Kate shook her head and looked at him with a stern expression. “The only thing you broke was the porch, and judging from the way you’ve dealt with that you aren’t exactly Mr. Fix-it. The rest of the house is mine. March!”
 

***
***
***

Kate was upstairs, holding a large screwdriver in one hand and a flashlight in the other. She’d braved the light switch in the bathroom and it worked for about ten minutes before the bulb burnt out. It was just another item to pick up at the store, she figured, but it was good to know that not all the lights in the house would explode at the very thought of turning on. She’d have to go through the whole place, one by one, to figure out where some rewiring needed to be done.
 

With the looks Blake was giving her, though, she got the impression he thought she needed some rewiring, herself. It wasn’t his fault. Not really. He hadn’t spent the last ten years trying to prop up a girl who refused to stand on her own two feet.
 

If Kate were more comfortable with psychobabble, she’d call herself an enabler. She preferred plainer talk: Kate thought of herself as a sucker.
 

It was an almost cruel irony. The great idealist lawyer sister with the junked-out sister she turned her back on. Maybe that
was
what happened, though, Kate thought. You try and take on the problems of the world, the direct ones that you can have most real effect on just slip from your grip like melting snowflakes.
 

So it felt good to be tackling the real problem of the tub. She’d turned on the shower earlier, and there was a trickle of water, but no real pressure. If she’d enjoyed showers that were the equivalent of being drooled on by a dog on a high shelf, she’d be in seventh heaven. As it was, Kate needed to fix it.
 

“Sure the water’s off?” she yelled down to Blake. He yelled something back which sounded a lot like “yes”. Kate went at the faucet with her screwdriver, loosing it from its moorings. There was a sound like radio static, and then a great torrent of water shot past and around the faucet, tearing it from the tub. The water then shot in a steady stream, soaking all of Kate in a matter of seconds.
 

Had it happened to someone else, she was sure she would have laughed her head off. Right now, she wasn’t in the mood.
 

“BLAKE!” she shouted.
 

The water started to slow down to a steady stream, and then the steady stream became a trickle. She could hear Blake’s footsteps as he strolled up the stairs.
 

“I got the water off for you. What did you do to yourself?”

“I think I found where the water pressure problem was,” Kate said in a very dry tone.
 

“You probably should have waited for me to shut the water off before you did that. Hey, the faucet came all the way off.”

“Really? I didn’t notice,” Kate said. Unfortunately, the screwdriver had been knocked out of her hands so she couldn’t kill Blake off right then and there for being obvious. Instead, she just kicked some water at him.

“What was that for?”
 

“For getting me wet. I’m never going to get this thing fixed.”

“Are you going to try and blame me for this?” Blake said.
 

“Yes,” Kate said, not missing a beat.
 

Blake swore under his breath. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “I’ll take a look at this. If you’re in such desperate need of a shower, you can go to my apartment and take one. Just don’t go through my stuff,” Blake said with a little half-smile.
 

Kate rolled her eyes. He was coming in, being a he-man and saving her day. Probably didn’t think that she was capable of fixing everything in the house that she intended to. Well, she had no intention of being saved here. He could just forget it.
 

“Look, Blake, this is my problem. I’ll take care of it.”

“So I didn’t break it?” Blake said.

“Well, you kinda did,” Kate said. He did tell her the water was off when it wasn’t. Or at least she thought he did...

“If I broke it, I’m fixing it. It isn’t a tough proposition. I already took all the wood out of your car. Go ahead to my place.”
 

He gave her the address. Kate wanted to protest and send him packing. This was presumptuous - she was fixing the shower because it needed doing, not for some pressing need. After all, she could go a day without a shower. A whole day after a long and sticky car ride...

“I’ll go in the back way so nobody gets any wrong ideas,” Kate said, and she was out of there like a shot.

***
***
***

It was nearly four in the afternoon before Blake had made his way back to his apartment, and his back ached like it had not for many a moon. The porch was not up, not by a long shot. He’d built a decent frame to secure the thing to the house, but he wasn’t sure if he could rely on the foundations of the old porch to make this one stable.
 

He pulled his car right next to the P.T. Cruiser. They were equally filthy, since driving up around Kate’s house gave cars ample opportunity to squirm around in the mud. She hadn’t come back to her house in hours, and he was curious to know what she’d been getting up to at his place. It was Spartan, but it must have been a welcome change from the near ramshackle of the old house.
 

Tonight Blake had to be on Emergency call and tomorrow he was out on patrol. Crime wasn’t a huge problem in Whispering Pines, but to have no cops on duty would be a sure guarantee that something was going to happen. His hands were full of groceries - he’d bought a pair of steaks and some potatoes for dinner tonight. He figured it would be a decent apology to Kate for not getting the work done on time. He balanced the groceries against the door, and reached for the spare key in his back pocket, and as he put weight on the door it started to sidle open.
 

It was a quasi-acrobatic move that kept the groceries from tipping over onto the ground, and by the time Blake had everything in hand again his back was turned towards the door.
 

“You left the door open, you know,” he called.
 

Blake backed into his apartment and set the groceries down on top of the counter. On the back of one of the tall chairs sidled up next to the bar Kate had piled her dirty clothes. Blake hated having clothes left out there in the living room, but he was nervous to touch them. Whispering Pines didn’t have much of a singles scene, and it had been literally years since he’d had to deal with picking up women’s clothes.
 

Had it actually been since he’d come back from San Francisco? Blake never thought about it, but it must have been. He’d not touched a woman in three years.
My God, he thought, when you retire from life you really do it whole hog.
 

It wasn’t that big a deal, he decided. Priests go their whole lives without female companionship, and he had felt himself under a sort of penance in all his time away from Seattle. Better to abstain from it all. Reasoning couldn’t make longing go away, though...

He heard Kate mumble something, syllables that made no words. Sleeping sounds. He turned from the counter and saw her there on his couch, her back to him with her arms tucked in at her side. She turned a bit in her sleep, and he caught a quick glimpse of her face.
 

She was beautiful, especially there in her sleep.
It’s because she ain’t talking, he thought
. There was something to that. When she was asleep the guile was away from her face. That smirk that always made him wary of anything she said was gone. Without her irony, Kate was a truly beautiful woman.
 

She murmured again, and turned back on her side. As she did, her white blouse was caught under her arm and was pulled up a bit, revealing the side of her stomach. Blake was about to look away, like a schoolboy, but something on it looked strange. Was it a tattoo? He sneaked closer. No, it wasn’t a tattoo. The red mark running down her side was a scar. It was like a fork of lightning thrusting upwards from her hip.