Half Past Mourning (23 page)

Nina stroked her temples with her thumbs, trying to ease the tension building behind her eyes. Only one thing had ever given her release when questions she couldn’t answer began to run in an endless loop through her mind. She needed to drive, and drive hard. Time to stop sitting here and mooning. Time to move, to distract her scrabbling brain. At least do something that required her to pay attention and focus on other things. Maybe answers would look clearer then. Standing to stretch out the kinks, Nina folded her knitted throw into a tidy square and scampered through the house as hardwood floors chilled her bare feet. At least one solution occurred to her, one that had clear-cut requirements and reactions.

It took only a moment to change from her loose robe into denim pedal pushers and a sleeveless striped shirt. She ran a brush through her tumbled curls and slipped on a pair of driving shoes. She was certain Uncle Eldon would have something that needed a good run through the pylons in his test drive area. A challenge like that would force her to concentrate on something besides her own confusion.

By the time Nina arrived at the car museum, morning had begun to spread a hot summer haze over the countryside. Only her uncle’s specially equipped car held a space in the parking lot. No one else was around this early. Uncle Eldon would be up and working on something, she knew. His condition didn’t lend itself to sleeping past dawn. She pulled her woody into a slot beside the door and hurried along the half-lit hallway. Eldon Lassiter’s office was dark.
He’ll be in the shop talking to the Princess. S
he went on to the double doors at the far end. A rim of light outlined them, suggesting her uncle was indeed at his workbench. As she pushed one door open, her guess was confirmed. Wheelchair parallel to the entrance, he sat with a chamois in one hand and a silvery hood ornament in the other. As she started toward him, he spun his chair to face her.

“Hey, good morning, Snookie.” He waved at the coffeepot perking on the side of the workbench. “Your radar is working full strength this morning. I just got the coffee made. Take a look at this.” He held up the graceful gold swan he was polishing, its full-spread wings gleaming from his attention. “A nice hood ornament from a Packard, not really old, but a piece of art, nonetheless.”

“It’s a beauty,” she agreed. Nina crossed the room to kiss the top of his head and passed on to the aromatic brew filling the air with its heady fragrance. “I didn’t come for the coffee, but it’s a grand idea.” She filled two cups and carried one to him.

He put his project aside to accept the cup as his eyes wrinkled in concern. “Yep, I’d guess you came for more than coffee, by the dark shadows under your eyes, Snookie, so drag up a chair and tell me what’s keeping sleep away from your door.”

Nina pulled a stool from the other side of the workbench and sat down, clearing a space on the worktop for her own cup. “Not much. I’m at loose ends, and I just thought maybe I could do a test drive for you. Clear my head out with some engine and road noise.”

“Probably can,” Eldon Lassiter agreed, “but there’s more going on here than you just needing to get your hands on a wheel, isn’t there?” Bushy eyebrows drew together in shrewd appraisal. He took a swallow from his cup and waited.

Nina kept her silence for a second, then nodded. “Peter. It’s Peter,” she answered at last.

“You’re in love with him?” Her uncle’s tone, thoughtful and low-key, encouraged her to go on.

“Maybe, or maybe it’s just daydreams. Or hormones. Sometimes, when he looks at me, with that funny, sort of stern but amused way of his, I think he’s just a really nice guy who wants to help find answers to an interesting puzzle.” She put her cup aside. “But then he says he loves me and...and kisses me or...or touches me, and I can’t think at all. Is that love or just loneliness?”

Silence filled the shop. Lassiter picked up the gleaming hood ornament, polished a flaring wing, and waited.

“Am I in love with Peter? Honestly I don’t know, Unc,” Nina went on at last. “Peter looks at me and I forget all about Danny. No, not forget. That’s not what I mean. I just...just can’t think of anything but Peter. How good it feels to have his arms around me. How real, how safe everything is when he’s with me. That’s not right, is it? I think Danny’s dead, but what if I’m wrong? What if there really is an explanation for everything? And if Danny’s alive, what am I supposed to do? When I took my marriage vows, I meant them. I won’t walk away from the promises I made because he’s not the man I thought he was. And what if the things I think I feel for Peter are just...just...moonshine?”

“Or just a normal woman’s need to love and be loved?” Eldon Lassiter rolled his chair closer. “I can’t answer that, Snookie. I know Peter Shayne’s a good man. I believe he cares about you enough to wait until your questions are answered.” He took Nina’s hand in his. “I also know you’re a young, healthy, beautiful woman who deserves to have more in her life than a pack of fourth graders, a moth-eaten cat, and a man in a wheelchair. I think Danny’s gone from this world, Snookie, and waiting years to prove it is a bad waste of good time. The sheriff’s looking, but he’s waited too long to get started, and nobody can guess what he’ll find out or when he’ll know it. I think you need to talk to those lawyers in Dallas and get some legal advice. If they can’t help you because Danny’s their client, they can tell you who to see. But living half a life isn’t good, Nina. Take it from a man who has been doing it for a hell of a long time. It’s no way to live.”

Nina squeezed the hand that held hers. “You’re still the smartest man I know,” she answered.

“Damn right.” He snorted. “And don’t let anybody tell you different.”

The door at the end of the room opened and a voice called, “Hey, what time do we go to work around here? The sun’s been up for two hours and I can’t see anybody turning a hand.”

Nina jumped from her stool and hurried to greet the newcomer with outstretched hands. “Tinker!” She hugged the gangly young man with tousled hair to her. “Tinker, I thought you’d gone on to some big job in New Mexico. What are you doing back here?”

Tinker hugged her in return, then waved a hand at the man in the wheelchair. “Ask him. I called him the other day just to say hello and see how things were. He got on some kind of song and dance about how Ron was worrying about him and you were fussing at him about getting into places where he could get hurt and so on, and the next thing I know he’s laying some kind of guilt on me for taking off again. The job in New Mexico didn’t turn out as good as I hoped. Trucks just don’t have the same appeal as a car that’s a piece of art. So I talked it over with my buddy, told him I didn’t think things were going to work out with him, and here I am, turning up like the bad penny I’ve always been.”

The sound of wheels whispering over the floor made Nina glance back. Her uncle rolled toward them, beaming. “You and Ron keep insisting I can’t get around as good as I might. And you, Snookie, said I needed to think about getting myself an assistant. So I did. And there he is. Tinker Downs, personal assistant to the president of the Lassiter Car Museum. I hope that’s satisfactory to all the worried parties.” He held out a hand to Tinker. “Welcome back, Tink. It’s good to have you home, son.”

Chapter 14

The summer days had slipped by, and though the hours Nina spent coaching Peter in the wily ways of rally driving assured her he could handle any road problems they might face, she was no closer to solving her own dilemma. When she was with Peter, her confusion faded and she felt more alive than she had since Danny walked away from the church. The moment she was alone, clouds of questions beset her. The Fourth of July rally was just a week away, and while the Lassiter team was prepared to face the challenge, Nina still wondered if she was betraying Danny by falling in love with Peter, or just looking for an escape from her narrow life. In any case, she needed to know what her legal position was, she told herself, but she delayed calling the law firm for days. Making the call would be so hard, so final, yet not making it was cowardly and only postponed something she knew she had to do.

At last overcoming the dread that held her, Nina steeled herself and put in a call to the law firm in Dallas. Her frustration mounted as she was passed from one respondent to another. “I need to speak with Mr. Borman,” she told the third person who took her call.

“And you are one of his clients?” the distracted voice inquired.

“No, my husband is a client of the firm, and Mr. Borman has been handling his affairs.”

“I see,” the distant voice answered, though it was clear she didn’t understand. “It would probably be best if your husband called himself sometime next week.”

Nina clenched her fingers in frustration. “That’s the problem. My husband has been missing for over two years. I need some legal advice about my status and how I should proceed.”

“And Mr. Borman has been advising you on this matter for the last two years?”

“No.” Nina paused, loath to get into the matter with yet one more person who would require explanations and reassurances. “No, he’s just been handling the family affairs for several years.”

“I’m afraid there’s no one who could advise you. Mr. Borman is ill and out of the office right now. We’re still sorting out who is taking which of his files. Unless it’s an emergency, I suggest you call back in a week or ten days; we should have better arrangements made by then.” The voice at the other end took on a bit more humanity. “We’re all terribly worried. He’s not young anymore, and his heart isn’t all it should be. We’ll try to help you as soon as Mr. Borman’s files are reassigned.”

Nina rubbed the tension knot forming at the back of her neck. “I hope Mr. Borman makes a full recovery. He seemed like such a goodhearted man.”

“Yes, he’s a dear, and we all miss him here at the firm. You’ll call back?”

“I will,” Nina promised and sank back in her chair. As hard as it had been to make the call the first time, Nina suspected it would be no easier the next. Would she ever find answers that would make her path a little clearer? Or was her world going to continue in limbo forever? Would Peter remain her constant support, or would he at last tire of the situation and move on? What would it mean in Nina’s life if he did walk away? Was it love or loneliness that forced her to ask the question?

Disgusted with her own aimle
ss floundering
, Nina set herself a series of tasks, things that needed to be done, routine things that would get her out of the house and keep her mind occupied. A trip to the Stop-N-Shop to restock her pantry and the cat food supply took most of the morning. On impulse, she circled a block to come back to Luke’s Drug Store. An ice-cream float would be perfect on a hot summer day.

The drug store was an institution in Santa Rita. Nina smiled at the small boy holding up a nickel and two dimes to the man behind the candy counter as he pointed to licorice, lemon drops, and peppermints in the glass bins. Little boys had been standing in that same spot for so many years the floor was permanently warped and the finish faded in the shape of the hundreds of small shoes that had rubbed it away. In the back, two couples were sharing cold drinks and confidences in one of the red-striped booths. Nina started for one of the empty booths, only to be stopped in mid-step by someone calling her name.

“Nina, I was sure that was you.” A plump woman in a crisp shirtwaist dress came toward her. “It’s Betty Andrews, Nina. From over by Barlow, remember?”

“Of course, Betty,” Nina answered, now recognizing the woman who had sold Peter the T‑Bird. “How nice to see you. Have you recovered from the wedding?”

“Recovered too well, hon. That house is just too dad-blamed quiet now, with one girl married and one spending the summer working on campus. I came into town just to get away from my own company for a while.” She put a hand on Nina’s arm. “How are you, child, and what have you found out? Are things any clearer? Did you find any trace of that young man of yours?”

Nina hesitated to share any of the recent details with anyone, but she saw concern and kindness in the older woman’s face, not pushy curiosity. “I’ve learned a few things, Betty, and I could use an opinion from someone who’s not involved directly. Do you have time to talk?”

Betty Andrews gave a soft sigh. “I have nothing but time, Nina, and if you think I could be any help, I’d be pleased to try.”

One booth at the far end of the drug store was somewhat isolated from the rest. Nina led the way to it and slipped into one side as Mrs. Andrews took the other. A skinny kid in a white apron that wrapped around him twice took their order for root beer floats and hurried away.

“Now, what’s been happening?” Betty Andrews plumped her handbag down and settled in for an update, her striped shirtwaist almost blending into the pattern of the upholstery where she sat.

Nina paused, ordered her thoughts, decided how much she wanted to tell this warm but casual acquaintance. “Well, I went to see the lawyers in Dallas, the ones who handle Danny’s trust fund.” She stopped as their drinks were placed on the table in front of them.

Betty Andrews pushed a straw into the frosted glass and nodded encouragement. “And they must have had some kind of address for him.”

Nina took a long pull on her straw to keep her lip from trembling. “You’d think so, but somehow all they had was the address of the bank where Danny’s money has been going.” She drew a hard breath. “The thing is, Betty, when they checked, they found that in over two years Danny hadn’t drawn so much as a dollar out of that account. And he’s never held a job in his life. So he’s been without funds, other than what he may have had in his pocket, since the day he left here. That doesn’t seem possible.”

Concern, confusion, and finally realization passed over Betty’s chubby face as she sat motionless. “Then you figure the boy’s dead, do you? That’s all that makes sense, because a rich young man, one who doesn’t know how to get by without the money that’s always been there, couldn’t just slip into another life. He wouldn’t know how, and what’s more, he wouldn’t want to make that kind of change.”