Together Alone (22 page)

John drove to the Berlo estate, turned in at the stone gates, and followed the curving drive to the four-car garage. All four doors were open. The cruiser was parked nearby, its headlights glancing across the bays while its red-and-blues lit the night.

Nestor separated himself from the patrolman and was waiting when they climbed from the car. “I’d like this handled quietly,” he told John.

Brian was puzzled.

Not John. “I understand. When did you find it gone?”

“Just before I called you. I was out for the evening in the Jaguar,” which stood behind him in one of the four bays. “As soon as I pulled in, I knew.”

“Think your wife took it?”

He gestured toward the small Mercedes in another bay. “That’s hers. She never drives the Lotus.”

“Was she with you?”

“No. She’s with a friend.”

Brian was wondering why a couple would go their separate social ways on a Saturday night, when John asked, “Could her friend be driving the Lotus?”

“If he was, his car would be parked here. It’s an Olds.”

The only other car, also in the garage, was a shiny new sports car.

“Then it’s the boy,” John said.

“Damn right,” muttered Nestor.

“Think he’s gone far?”

“He never does. He’ll be cruising around Grannick. You’ll find him fast.”

“What do you want us to do?”

“Hold him for the night.”

“Huh. You sure?”

Nestor turned and set off. “I’ll come by for him tomorrow.”

A short time later, combing Grannick for the Lotus, Brian said, “What’s going on?”

John shrugged. “He has money. We aim to please.”

“The chief of police, babysitting on a Saturday night?”

John shrugged again.

“Is Berlo that important to the town?”

“He gives money. He’s also worth watching.”

“What do you mean?”

“Whole family’s screwed up.”

“Screwed up, how?”

“Father has a lover, mother has a lover. There’s an older son who went off to college and never came back.”

“Never?”

“Maybe for a day or two here and there. Far as I know he hasn’t stepped foot in town since he graduated. That’d be two years, now.”

“What about the younger one?”

“He isn’t a bad boy.”

“Funny, that’s what Harold said when the kid tried to lift a bottle of vitamin C from the drugstore.”

John spared him a brief look. He drove down one street and up the next before he said, “What’d he want with vitamin C?”

“That’s not the point. The point is, he had money on him. He didn’t need to shoplift. I got the impression from Harold that he’s done it before. Know anything about that?”

John thought about it a bit too long.

“So what’s the kid’s problem?” Brian asked. “Simple rebellion?”

John shrugged.

Brian pushed. “Is the father as tough as he seems?”

“He’s tough on his kids.”

“Abusive?”

“In a way.”

“
What
way?” Brian asked, growing impatient. Of the things he enjoyed about Grannick, small-town protectionism wasn’t one. “Spit it out, John.”

“The father’s gay.”

Gay. Brian hadn’t imagined that. “How do you know?”

“There was some trouble a while back.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“At the golf course over in Melon Falls. He was having a thing with one of the caddies. The boy was from Grannick. Nestor would pick him up to drive to the course, only sometimes they never got there. When the boy’s parents got wind of it, they were upset.”

“Jesus. I’d think so.” He guessed the outcome. “Berlo wasn’t prosecuted, was he.”

“Nope. They settled.”

“His name wasn’t on your list of sex offenders in Grannick.”

“We owe him that much, after what he’s done for the town. The incident I just told you about happened a long time ago.”

“How long ago?”

“Seventeen, eighteen years.”

“Now, there you go,” Brian complained. “There’s a sex offender who was in town when Daniel Arkin disappeared, and his name doesn’t appear once in the report. Was he ever questioned?”

“Officially, no. I told you, we didn’t make assumptions on pedophilia then, like we might now. Besides, he was out of town the whole week.”

“Was that corroborated?”

“Yeah. Besides, Nestor was never violent. He never forced the caddie, just promised goodies afterward. That’s how the parents found out. The kid started coming home with a new bike and fancy sneakers. There’s the Lotus.”

John pulled up behind the car. It was one of four parked on the rim of the quarry, Grannick’s lover’s lane. Brian wondered what they would find in the Lotus.

Richie was alone. He was glaring out the window with both hands on the wheel. He knew he had company.

So did the occupants of the other three cars. They also seemed to know who that company was. With comic speed, heads popped up, and the drivers fired up their engines and took off.

John put a knuckle to the window and gestured for Richie to roll it down. Brian leaned against the hood of John’s car.

“How’re ya doin’,” John said.

“I’m okay.”

“Like the car?”

“It’s okay.”

“Your father thinks it’s more than that. He thinks it’s special.”

Richie made a disparaging sound.

“He’s not happy you took it.”

Richie said nothing.

John opened the door. “Come on out now. We’ll take a ride to the station.”

Brian waited for him to protest, and was profoundly sad when the boy only said, “Will he be there?”

“Tomorrow.”

The hands on the wheel loosened a bit. “What about the car?”

“My partner will return it.”

Brian approached. Richie gave him a wary look.

John made the introductions. “Richie Berlo, Brian Stasek.”

If Richie recognized Brian from that time in the drugstore, he didn’t let on. He simply asked, “Do you know how to drive this?”

Brian eyed the beautiful beast and smiled dryly. “I can manage.”

“You’d better not grind the gears. He’ll know. He goes apeshit over this car.”

“Is that why you took it?”

Richie looked abruptly furious, seeming ready to explode with the reasons why he had taken the car. Then his anger fizzled. “Yeah. That’s why.”

“Come on now,” John repeated before Brian could ask another question. “It’s late.”

Richie left his car and entered John’s. He sat in the passenger’s seat, no questions asked.

Brian waited until John drove off before starting the Lotus, but as he drove, it wasn’t the sleekness of the car he was thinking of, or its power. He was thinking that Richie Berlo led a troubled life, and that, irrespective of his father’s largesse where the town was concerned, someone had to address that. The boy was begging for it.

Brian wondered what he would try next.

Exhausted but content, Emily and Jill sat curled against the pillows on Jill’s bed with only Cat between them. Jill yawned into a smiling sigh. “That was fun. Thanks, Mom.”

“Don’t thank me. I had as much fun as you did. You have nice friends.”

“I want you to meet my friends from school. They’re nice, too.

“They seem it—at least, the two who’ve already called here do. Who’s Adam?” He was one of those calls. Emily didn’t want to make a big thing about it. All she wanted to know was how old he was, where he was from, what he was studying, whether he was a prude or a lecher.

“A friend. He’s sweet, but I’m not rushing to hook up with anyone. It’d be too confining, when there are so many great kids there. I’ve met some
really
nice ones. I’m lucky.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it. Nice people attract nice friends.”

Jill made a face that was only half comical. “So how’d you attract Daddy?”

Emily touched her hair. “Hey. Where’d that come from?”

“He isn’t very sociable. He could have hung around to see my friends.”

“You gave him permission to leave.”

“Because it was clear he wanted to. Parties make him nervous.” She grinned. “But it was a great party. I loved seeing everyone. Brian’s cool.”

Emily had been wondering what Jill thought of him, but would never have asked. She was doing everything in her power not to think about Brian. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

“He has incredible eyes,” Jill remarked.

“Quite. And a precious daughter, and nice ways.”

“I’m glad he’s living here. It makes me feel like you’re less alone. The bathrooms look great. What else will you do?”

“With the house? Clean this room.”

“No. Not this room. Not yet.”

“Jill, it’s a mess.”

“But it’s
my
mess. I like it this way. I was nervous on the bus ride home. I kept thinking I’d walk in here and everything would be changed. It’s nice to know nothing has.”

Emily felt a pang of guilt. Things had changed. Big things. Like Emily taking a lover. Only it didn’t show in ways Jill could see.

Emily didn’t know what to do about Brian.

“So what are you going to do with yourself?” Jill asked. When Emily looked blank, she said, “If you’re not doing more around the house. Can you and Daddy take a vacation?”

“We are. In two weeks.”

“That’s Parents’ Weekend. It doesn’t count.”

“Sure, it does.”

“You should go
away
away.”

It was a thought that had even more merit now than when Jill had first suggested it. Doug wouldn’t go willingly. But they needed time alone, good quality time, to work things out. The last thing Emily wanted was to be cheating on her husband, but when basic needs weren’t met—no, there wasn’t any excuse for it.

“I’ll work on him,” she said.

“Are you doing more for the
Sun?
”

“Uh-huh. Whatever Rod needs. And Petra, whenever.” Emily prayed it would be soon. Jill would be back at school in three days—the thought brought a giant hollowness, still, yet, again. Doug would be back at work, wherever it was he was going this week. Without some kind of diversion, Emily would be thinking about things she shouldn’t. “Connie Yeo needs help in her store. I love books. Selling them might be fun.”

“What about writing them?”

“I’m toying with the idea.”

“What will you write about?”

“I don’t know.” She had been writing about Daniel for years, small scraps of thoughts packed away. She had a book right there.

“You have an office with a word processor downstairs. I think you should do it, Mom. This time it could be your own book from start to finish. This time we could make a
big
celebration.”

“We celebrated last time.”

“We went out to dinner with Sam and Donnie. It wasn’t much of a celebration.” Her voice grew excited. “I’ll throw you a party this time.”

Emily smiled. “You will?”

“Yeah, like you threw for me tonight. It was super, Mom. Thanks.”

Emily’s contentment swelled. The future remained an enigma, but as long as she had warm times like this, she would survive.

• • •

Marilee flew back to Washington on Monday afternoon. Kay might have called in sick and stayed home from school if John hadn’t announced that he was taking the day off from work, himself, to take Marilee to lunch and the airport.

She was surprised. John had always been a stickler for duty when it came to the department. She remembered his taking time off when he had the flu, when his father died, when Marilee was born, when she graduated. He and Kay had driven her to college on a weekend, so he hadn’t missed any work then. Amazing, that he was taking a whole day off now.

Amazing, too, that he thought to bring Marilee by to see Kay, for a final goodbye on the way from lunch to the airport. Kay had had trouble saying goodbye that morning. Amazing that he had sensed it.

She didn’t know why the parting was more difficult this time. She hadn’t had as much trouble in August. Maybe parting was a novelty then. Now it was real. Now she understood its deeper meaning. Now she saw, as she hadn’t seen for all her intuitive brilliance, that Marilee’s departure left her and John alone with each other for the rest of their lives.

That thought remained with her long after the car was gone from the school parking lot. She was thinking about it still, later that afternoon, when she packed up her briefcase and headed home.

She did love John. He was steadfast and sure. In marrying him, she had gotten the stable home she wanted and the child she had nearly given up hope of having. With that child grown now, she and John were in each other’s limelight. She was feeling unbalanced by the glare.

The cruiser was in the driveway. She parked beside it and went inside, half-expecting to find a sex-starved madman waiting to drag her to bed.

But there wasn’t any sex-starved madman, just John, leaning against the kitchen counter, holding a bouquet of yellow roses.

“For me?” she asked when he held them out, then murmured, “I guess, they have to be, since there’s no one else here.”

“Thanks for a nice weekend. From Marilee and me.”

Kay was startled. “They’re beautiful. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. I thought they’d cheer you up. She’ll be back home soon.”

Kay nodded. Oddly tongue-tied, she took the flowers.

He smiled, touched her cheek, and went off to watch the news before she could muster the where-withal to say a thing.

Emily lay in bed, wide awake. Doug had left that morning after a flurry of perfunctory hugs that had left her depressed, but it was Jill’s afternoon departure that brought tears. Emily wondered if the pain of parting would ever get easier, if the silence of the house would ever grow less stark.

The furnace kicked on from time to time, shooting heat through the pipes as the house cooled, but Emily wasn’t aware of any chill. Beyond the pain and the silence was something else, something distractingly hot and sly. It was lodged in her belly and rose each time she thought of Brian.

Tossing the covers aside, she went to the window. Myra’s night light fickered beyond the spattering of leaves that lingered on the front yard maples. Beyond the yard the fence was pale, beyond the fence the street dark.