Out at Night (4 page)

Three horses picked their way carefully down a path toward the water, riders gripping saddle horns, and Grace turned back toward the Pink Sands cabana on the beach where a Bahamian attendant named Bolo smiled, waiting to offer a towel and a mauve-colored lawn chair. Grace smiled and shook her head and kept walking, taking the soft sand trail cut into the side of the hill that led back to the villa. Officer Epsten kept pace.

“Are you going to answer my question?”

“There’s an international agricultural convention hosted by the United States government that starts in Palm Springs tomorrow and runs through Monday night. Veterans Day in your country.”

“Heard about it. Its official name is the International Ministerial Conference and Expo on Agricultural Science and Technology.”

He stared.

She shrugged. “A friend has a friend who’s involved in it.”

“Apparently Mr. Bartholomew was involved in it, too.” He scuffed the sand with the heel of his sandal. “He was not who he appeared.”

“How so?”

Epsten stared at her soberly. “You’ll have to ask Special Agent Descanso that.”

The villa was coming into view and she could see Katie on the balcony. She waved, and Katie bounced up and down and waved back. Mac appeared on the patio and he put his arm easily around Katie’s shoulders and Grace felt hollowed out, light.

“If you know about Katie’s father, than you probably know we haven’t had much time together.”

“And I am sincerely sorry for that, madam.”

Katie was laughing, Mac bending over her saying something only she could hear. Katie impulsively reached up her arms and hugged Mac hard.

Whatever Grace’s uncle needed her to do in Palm Springs was far less important than the likelihood of Mac forging a bond with Katie that forever altered the relationship she had with her daughter.

“I’ll be back to drive you to the water taxi, which will take you to Eleuthera. On Eleuthera, there’s transport waiting to drop you directly at the plane. They’re holding it for you.”

“Am I supposed to go right to Palm Springs?”

He handed her a sealed letter with an FBI insignia on it. “That, I do not know, madam.”

“How much time do I have?”

He glanced silently at the villa. Mac and Katie had disappeared inside, the balcony empty. He looked at her neutrally.

“Enough to say good-bye.”

__

“Mommy! Mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy!”

Katie threw herself at Grace. She was still in her swimsuit; her skin smelled of chlorine.

“Daddy’s going to take me out in the golf cart later, just the two of us. We’re going to find a store where they sell kitties. We’re not going to buy one, just look. I want to hold a fluffy one.”

Grace met Mac’s eyes over their daughter’s head. He shrugged and Grace felt a territorial tug.

“You need to take a bath, sweetie.”

“There was a bird that flew onto the balcony. It had orange on its head and a very, very big beak. This big.” She held out her hands in front of her nose.

“Sweetie, that’s great. I need to talk to Daddy a minute, okay? Let’s get you out of this wet swimming suit.” Her tone held just the faintest hint of criticism, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see Mac tense.

It eased something in her. She rested an open palm on her daughter’s shoulder.

“Come on, kiddo, I’ll start the water for you.” She moved toward the bathroom, Katie skipping next to her. “I’m going to show Daddy how hot to make the water, so he knows.”

She glanced back at Mac just in time to see his jaw tighten. After a beat, he followed.

__

“What’s going on?”

Mac followed her into the bedroom and closed the door partway. From the bathtub came the sounds of quiet splashing, Katie singing an off-key version of “Itsy Bitsy Spider.” Grace could feel his eyes on her as she moved to the closet and pulled down her suitcase from the shelf.

“I have to go to Palm Springs and help Uncle Pete with something. Today’s Friday. Katie’s got Monday off for Veterans Day. She has to be back in San Diego for school Tuesday.”

“Katie stays here. You’re not taking her.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. A bold squaring off.

Her intestines felt spongy. “No. I know you need time with her.”

He crossed his arms loosely. He’d scuffed up his right hand somehow and the knuckles looked chapped. “I still want her Thanksgiving.”

“Can we talk about this later?”

“Now.”

The splashing stopped. “What?” Katie called.

Anger surged and spread through her body. Love was better, but this still had a warm glow to it. She shot Mac a look as she moved past him to the door.

“Everything’s fine, honey,” she called through the open door.

“I heard my name.”

“Daddy and I were just talking.”

“About what?” There was alarm in her voice and Grace went into the bathroom. A flotilla of rubber duckies bobbed in the water. A soap bubble bloomed on Katie’s shoulder, like a glittering corsage.

Grace sat on the edge of the tub and reached for the shampoo.

“About what a cool daughter we have.”

“You sounded mad.” Her eyes were dark and wide.

Grace massaged the shampoo into her scalp. “We’re fine.” She heard Mac come in behind her. “Aren’t we?”

“Absolutely.” His voice was a little too hearty.

“Lean back, honey, I’m going to rinse this off.”

Katie took a breath and held on to her nose and sank back into Grace’s hand. Katie’s hair floated in the water like a sea nymph’s, her lashes dark against her cheeks. Her head felt fragile in Grace’s hand, easily injured.

“You want me to—”

“Everything’s fine.”

He tried again. “But I could—”

“I’ll be right in, Mac, okay?” She lifted Katie up and squeezed out the water. She felt him moving away from the door, felt the absence of him.

“I held my breath.”

“I saw. When you’re done playing, I’ll rinse your hair again.”

Katie nodded, peering up at her uncertainly as if there was something that needed asking. That needed clearing up. That threatened world peace as she knew it.

“Okay,” she said finally.

Mac was leaning up against the door jamb, waiting for Grace when she got into the bedroom.

“She hears everything,” Grace said pleasantly, her voice low.

“I got that.” He smiled back pleasantly. “But let’s talk about you. What I especially liked was the bit about how hot to make the water. I think I can figure stuff like that out.”

Grace picked up a straw hat and a pair of espadrilles and carried them to the suitcase. She and Mac hadn’t danced this one before, but she remembered it from the times her parents did the steps.

“Go on, say the rest. The even-though-I’ve-never-had-the-chance-to part.”

He smiled. “Even-though-I’ve-never-had-the-chance-to.”

“Thanks to me,” she prompted. She lifted a clump of underpants and dumped them into the suitcase.

“Thanks to you. Here. Let me help you.”

“Gladly.” She was keeping her voice down, but it rang with hurt and her need to be right.

His eyes were bright with calculated interest. As if he’d waited a long time to play this game. As if he’d spent years studying the rule book. As if all bets were off.

He went to the set of drawers, yanked open the top one, and carried it over to the suitcase, upending the bras and tank tops into the suitcase, shaking the drawer hard.

“There. All set.” He tucked the drawer under his arm and carried it back to the dresser, shoving it back into the slot. “Anything else?”

I’m good.” She unhooked a row of hangers and flung the shirts and pants in a clattering heap into the suitcase. “Ready to leave.”

“Works for me.”

The air left her body. A bullet of pain lodged in her belly. Not exactly a direct hit. He just needed more practice.

She was certain he’d been aiming for the heart.

She straightened. “I’ll be back in San Diego Monday night. Tuesday morning at the latest.” It sounded like a warning.

“Take your time.”

“You’re not keeping her.” It slipped out and the ferocity of it took her by surprise and made real the possibility of Katie leaving for good.

He looked at her as if he were seeing her for the first time and not quite liking it.

“Why are you doing this?” His voice was even. “She’s my daughter, too. Mine. And frankly, that’s all I’ve been thinking about. What you did. What it cost.”

She slipped the shirts and pants out of their hangers, one by one, not looking at him. The hangers were wooden, well made. She carried them back to the closet and hung them up. They clicked together. The only clothes that hung now were the dresses that belonged to Katie, a small bright row of pink and lime green, splashes of yellow and orange.

“Grace?”

“Don’t think I won’t be checking with the school Tuesday, to make sure she gets there safely.”

“Nice.” He shoved past her into the hall.

___

“Okay, so it’s going to be really fun.” Grace cradled Katie in her lap as she dried her hair with a towel.

“Why are you going?” Katie sounded worried.

Grace kissed her. “Oh, honey, I have a couple of days of work to do, that’s all.”

“But I want you to stay.”

“I do, too, sweetie.”

“But Daddy’s going to be here, right?”

“Right here.”

“With me.”

“Every second.” Grace lifted Katie down from her lap. The towel had left a damp splotch on her shorts. “Okay, what do you want to wear? A sundress, shorts?”

“Do you like Daddy?”

The question caught her by surprise. She turned away from the closet. “Very much. Why?”

“I think shorts. Those pink ones.” Katie dropped the towel and scampered to the set of drawers. “And the pink underpants. Everything pink.”

From the back, she was golden except for the pale band where her bathing suit had been. “Does Daddy like you?” Her voice was muffled as she dug through her underpants and pulled out a pair.

“I hope so. Sure. Maybe. Probably. The main thing is, Daddy likes you. Lots. I’m going to get the lotion we use on your hair, so we see the curls.”

Grace went into the bathroom she shared with her daughter and stared at herself in the mirror. A woman she barely recognized stared back. Her eyes were dark, intense, her face looked hunted. She slicked on gloss, smacked her lips together, recurled her eyelashes and fringed on mascara, her mind blank, back on Katie’s question.

Does Daddy like you?

She found the hair conditioner and went back into the bedroom.

Katie lay sprawled on her stomach, next to the open suitcase, shorts and a ruffled top a pale pink against her glowing skin. “How am I getting home?”

Grace sat next to her and worked a dollop of conditioner into her hair. “I’m glad you got dressed. That’s good. You’ll fly with Daddy and then stay in his house.”

Katie yanked up her head in surprise and Grace gently tipped it forward again. “He has a house?”

“Daddy bought a place almost right next to ours, so you’ll spend Monday night there, and then I’ll pick you up after school Tuesday.”

“He lives in San Diego in Point Loma?” Her voice was astonished.

“Not too far away. He bought it when he found out about you. He wants very much to get to know you and be a real daddy.”

Katie sucked in a breath, her head still bent. Her curls were damp ringlets against her scalp. “He is a real daddy,” she said, her voice almost inaudible. “He’s mine.”

Grace nodded. “Yes, honey. He is.” The bullet now was burrowing, worming its way up toward her heart. It was one of those time-release ones, guaranteed to keep chewing up her insides for some time to come. She wondered what it would take to get rid of it.

“All done.” She carried the conditioner into the bathroom, found what she was looking for and returned.

Katie sat with her knees up, her face down, protecting herself.

“Sunscreen.” Grace put it on the dresser. “Even if Daddy forgets. Don’t you forget.” The bottle was bright orange and had a cartoon of a fish on it.

“Mommy.” Katie’s voice was muffled, forced. “Did you just forget?”

“Forget.” Grace looked around the room, her eyes settling on the open suitcase, mentally reviewing the contents. It was a jumbled mess.

“I think I packed everything.” She closed the lid and zipped it. “If I forgot something, bring it back with you, okay?”

“No, silly, that I had a daddy.”

Katie raised her eyes and looked at her. Her eyes were wide, dark brown, fathomless.

Katie’s aim was much surer than Mac’s. It was a direct hit.

Grace felt the aftershock first, the trembling as her body braced for a blow that had already come, and then she felt the pain coursing through her. It was hot, electric, a wire that stung with recriminations and truth.

Grace had tried to leave Mac behind for good. What she hadn’t factored in was how much that decision would cost Katie.

“Am I interrupting something?” Mac stood in the doorway, a hopeful look on his face, the parent at the fence, the one on the outside.

There was a split second when Grace could have said something, fixed whatever it was between her and Katie, a single word and everything would have been okay, but in that blinding moment of time, Katie turned toward the sound of his voice. Grace had always reached out to Katie, instinctively, joyously, but now she stalled, free-falling, unable to move. She stared at Katie and for the first time felt the awkwardness of not reaching out, embracing her, and in that instant she lost her standing as a mother. Not with Katie, perhaps, but with herself.

“He’s here. That’s what I came to tell you.”

Katie turned to take a look out the window. Officer Epsten sat in an idling golf cart. Katie trotted for the door.

Grace made a small sound.

“Wait,” Mac said. “Give your mom a hug.”

Katie came limply into her arms, her body angled away. Grace felt an elbow. Katie squirmed free, leaving behind the familiar scents of new mown-grass and lemon.

Grace swallowed. She felt faint and afraid. “My cell doesn’t have an international connection. I’ll call you from a landline when I get in.”

“Sure,” Mac said, his hand touching Katie’s curls.