Tranquility Falls

by Davis Bunn

  The lawyer sighed. “The DA sent over the police case file. Normally that’s something I have to do battle to receive. You understand what I’m saying?”

  “They want you to see the case they have against Stella.”

  “It doesn’t look good,” Sol said. “The evidence is crushing.”

  “It should be,” Daniel said. “The unseen enemy has spent months preparing for this moment. Years.”

  “Proof,” Sol said. “We can’t make claims like that without substantiation.”

  “I’m trying.” When Sol did not respond, Daniel went on, “I’ll bring a videographer. You can tell them we’re building a public record of the pretrial actions. Maybe that will tone down their hardball tactics.”

  “Don’t count on it.”

  He could feel Nicole’s eyes on him and wished he could hide his bitter disappointment. “Stella must be terrified.”

  “That makes two of us,” Sol said. “The meeting’s set for nine.”

  CHAPTER 52

  The traffic eased as they entered the hills beyond Calabasas. Daniel watched the road open up ahead of him and wished for something, anything, that might make the way clear. The conversation with Sol had only heightened the helpless sense of watching a good woman be dragged down by deceit. Beside him, Nicole sighed so loud it bordered on a groan. He asked, “You okay?”

  “Tired. Upset.”

  “You want to tell me about what happened with your mom?”

  “Do I have to?”

  “No, Nicole. Just know I’m here whenever.”

  “I probably should. And I will. In maybe a couple of centuries.” The descending sun cast a pale glow on her features. “Why won’t you speak with Stella?”

  “I don’t want her to know I’ve struck out. Not yet. I’m afraid . . .”

  “She might hear it in your voice,” Nicole said. “How worried you are.”

  Daniel kneaded the wheel. “Try the hacker again.”

  But Nicole had no success. Daniel tightened his grip on the wheel, released, did it again, wishing there was some way to apply that pressure to a Ukrainian’s neck. Show him just how important it was to move their case forward.

  Then he crested the rise outside Thousand Oaks, and they faced that rarest of central California events.

  An empty highway.

  Seven lanes descended, and another seven climbed. And theirs was the only vehicle.

  Nicole said, “Oh. Wow.”

  Daniel nodded. For a brief instant, he was able to set aside the aching worry. His truck was captured by a sunset glow that turned the freeway into a golden waterfall. He slowed, wanting to draw out their descent. Beyond the ridge, the plains opened like a sunlit sea.

  Nicole murmured. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

  He opened all four windows. The air rushed in, as warm and soft as the dusk. Up ahead, the weary flatland city glimmered, like a thousand flickering gemstones, a million mirrors.

  There came a gap in the western hills, and the light strengthened to where the world ahead was swallowed by the afternoon luminosity. Daniel felt as if he had suddenly become poised inside a perfect now. For just one moment. An open road ahead, the past lost to the golden radiance.

  Then the road met the plains. The city’s first exit came up, and a stream of vehicles crowded in. Daniel rolled the windows back up and sighed.

  Nicole said, “A sign of something good. Please.”

  * * *

  It was well into the night, and Stella knew she should be asleep. She was tired in a way she hadn’t known since the early days after her little girl died. Back then, sleep had become a stranger, so foreign she could not have named it, much less invited it into her dark hours. That was how she felt now.

  Stella waited until she was certain Amber was fast asleep, then entered her daughter’s bedroom and stretched out next to her. Goldie lifted her head, snuffed softly, then settled. They had picked up the dog from Ricki because Amber had begged. After Amber’s confession on the highway north, there was basically nothing Stella would have denied her child.

  Stella lay there, fully clothed, on top of the covers, knowing she would not sleep, simply wanting to be close enough to this amazing little girl to feel her comforting heat. Smell the clean fragrance, know the incredible intensity of her own love.

  She knew everyone was worried. Sol had not said anything about what was going to take place in the morning, beyond the fact that the DA would probably offer her a deal. Years in a cage, locked away from her child, for a crime someone else had committed. Some deal.

  Stella was no longer sure that Sol actually believed she was innocent. But that bothered her less than perhaps it should. Because she was surrounded by other people who knew with absolute certainty that she had been set up. More than that. They put their lives on hold to help her.

  Ricki and Travis had come by with food she couldn’t eat. They had waited until Amber was lost in the television to say that they were there for her and would do whatever was required—meaning take in the child if or when that became necessary. Both of those strong fine people were rendered almost mute with sorrow. And furious over what was going down.

  The instant she heard the car’s approach, she was up and moving. Long before it pulled into the drive, she was rushing down the stairs, out the front door, there to see Daniel step wearily from his pickup. She flew along the front walk and gripped him.

  Daniel simply stood there, not even lifting his arms. Stella had the impression he needed her embrace so much he could not even respond.

  Finally, he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

  The words were precisely what she needed to hear. Which was ridiculous, having him admit defeat. Stella gripped his hand with both of hers and pulled him down the walk, through the front door and into the living room, and down onto the sofa. She was not content simply to sit next to him. She curled up like a cat, half beside him and half in his lap. “Hold me.”

  Strong arms pulled her closer still. “I wish I knew what to do.”

  “You’re doing it.”

  “I mean about tomorrow. I was so sure we could come up with the evidence we need to make this shift our way.”

  “What we need,” Stella whispered. “To go our way.”

  She was not certain he even heard her. “But we’ve come up with nothing useful. I don’t even know what to say, except that I’m sorry. I’ve let you down in a big way.”

  The words simply rose inside her and spilled out. She heard herself talk about what was hidden, and do so with neither pain nor regret. He needed to hear, she needed to tell. This dark hour was made for releasing her secret shadows.

  She told him about the days that followed the burial of her child. Of her husband shattering the last tiny fragment of hope by leaving them. Of finding a bit of strength each morning in the sound of Amber’s voice, in the needs of her one remaining daughter, in the light Amber brought into every room, every hour.

  It seemed almost natural that in the midst of her telling, she felt another warm body come and nestle into Daniel’s other side. Amber did not speak. Daniel released one arm from holding Stella so he could draw the child closer. The three of them sat there, and Stella talked. She described what it meant to heal through her daughter. She would never have thought it might be possible to love again. The word slipped out with all the others, a simple admission of what she knew was real. Love a man who was there for her in yet another impossible hour. A man she could trust not to leave her nor turn away. A man who gave and gave and gave, and then apologized because he could not give her enough to make the dark hour vanish. As if that was his job, to erase the hardship.

  The words simply ended. There was so much else she wanted to say. But just then the words were gone.

  She pried herself away from him, just far enough to see his face gleaming in the moonlight. She kissed the damp skin below his left eye. His neck. It was a gentle act, all she would reveal with her daughter snuggled up to Daniel’s other side. A brush
of lips, and it was over.

  For the moment.

  She settled back, warmed by the thought of what she knew was coming. The certainty was strong enough to push away the fears, at least for a time.

  Finally, Daniel whispered, “Amber is fast asleep.”

  She took that as her signal that it was time to release her hold and rise to her feet. She watched Daniel slip his arms around the child and lift her to his shoulder. Amber moaned softly, then went quiet. Stella directed him up the stairs and into her daughter’s bedroom. Goldie’s eyes tracked them from her place on the bed, but the dog did not move. Stella stood in the doorway and watched him settle the child, tuck in her covers, then stroke the hair from her face. His touch as tender as, well, as a father’s.

  Stella kissed him then in the bedroom’s doorway. Again by the front door. A final time by his truck. Then she returned to Amber’s room and stretched out beside her daughter.

  She slept and did not dream.

  CHAPTER 53

  Daniel carried the warm, heart-level glow back home. Stella remained so close she might as well have been in the pickup with him.

  His mind drifted back to concepts that he seldom thought of anymore. During his first year in Miramar, seven elements had basically framed his existence. But nowadays the only time he laid them out in concrete terms was when he was helping a newcomer struggle with those first awful days of recovery.

  In dealing with the opioid epidemic, the medical world broke down addiction into seven stages.

  The first was called Gateway. The body naturally produced its own natural version of opioids, called endorphins. They served as the reward circuits of a healthy brain, making a person feel good after positive actions. Many drugs, including alcohol for some people, circumvented this process. They created a tidal wave of reward-centered pleasure. When the high wore off, its impact on the brain lingered. For some people, this developed into a biological lure with uncontrollable force that drew them back to their drug of choice, over and over and over.

  The second stage was Tolerance. The user chased that first experience. But a thousand more doses, double and triple the initial amount, never brought back that first high. The reason was simple. The brain’s production of endorphins was automatically controlled. When external sources were brought into the process, the brain’s own production system shut down.

  Gradually, the brain’s circuitry became rewired. These chemical changes only increased the desire to repeat the experience. The urge was magnified until it blinded the user, until their actions and the impact they had on other people went completely unnoticed. Nothing else in life offered any real satisfaction. The more they took, the more the brain adapted to the drug, and it demanded still more.

  Daniel pulled into his drive and sat there. Images of what those words had meant to his own life flooded in. All of them ended with the sound of the crash he had not actually heard and the sight of that body bag being zipped shut.

  The third stage was Withdrawal. Only at this point did the user realize how ferocious the trap held them. Crippling pain, vomiting, insomnia, spasms—on and on the struggle grew. Few people actually died from withdrawal. But at some point during the withdrawal process, most users wished they could.

  The fourth stage, Relapse One, had been a repetitive action for Daniel. He had tried to stop four times that he could actually recall. But his brain had always screamed for more. After few days staying clean, a week at most, he dove back in.

  The medical profession called the fifth stage Transition. But Daniel knew it by different words. For him, it was called Rock Bottom.

  Stage six was the one he had managed to avoid for the past four years. But anybody who had become truly hooked knew with utter certainty that Relapse Two was always there. Waiting for the weak and terrible moment to strike. And draw him back down again.

  The seventh stage was the one he had been working on for the past four years and counting. Recovery was a singular process. It had the beauty and the pain present in any significant work of art. Each day of sobriety created another brushstroke on the canvas of life.

  But as Daniel sat in his drive and stared at Nicole’s bedroom window, feeling Stella’s arms, remembering the joy of her kiss, he wondered if he might actually be entering an eighth stage.

  He could not even name it yet. But it was there, as clear and powerful as the shadows he had run from for so very long.

  CHAPTER 54

  Daniel woke just before six. He had slept less than four hours and felt grainy with banked-up fatigue. But he was too pressured by the coming day to worry about being tired.

  He checked Nicole’s door as he passed but could not hear any sound from inside. As he prepared the day’s first coffee, Daniel wished there was some way he could trade places with Stella. The lady deserved happiness. She deserved a life filled with good things. She deserved the chance to watch her daughter grow into a fine young woman. Daniel washed out his cup, started another coffee, then called Veronica.

  She sounded as if she had been up for hours. “Any news?”

  “Nothing good.”

  She sighed. “So we’re going with plan A.”

  He nodded to the window. “Don’t have much choice. Did Sol call you?”

  “Only to say he had insisted I be granted permission to film.” She paused, then added, “I had the distinct impression that he’s going in with an empty gun.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Headed into church. But I could skip this morning, if you think . . .”

  “No, there’s no need. Do me a favor: Say a prayer for me. And Stella.”

  “Brother, I haven’t stopped.”

  Nicole entered the kitchen as he cut the connection. She must have read the absence of hope in his expression, because all she said was, “Nothing?”

  “Sorry.”

  “You don’t have a thing to apologize for.”

  “I just wish . . .”

  Daniel stopped because his phone rang.

  Afterward, whenever he thought back to that moment, the first thing he recalled was how much it meant to have Nicole standing there beside him. Dressed in cutoffs and an oversized T-shirt, hair a tousled mess, face still creased from sleep. See her eyes go completely round when he showed her the readout and said, “It’s him.”

  * * *

  “Every time we talk, I am thinking of reasons to charge you more.”

  Daniel had put the call on speaker and placed the phone on the counter. He handed Nicole the coffee he’d just made. She needed it far more that he did. Daniel’s heart was already approaching redline. “You have something?”

  “I have more than that.” The heavily accented voice sounded grainy. Exhausted. “I have the smoking gun.”

  “Tell me.”

  The Ukrainian proceeded to do just that.

  CHAPTER 55

  Stella was late getting started the next morning. She could have pushed Amber to move faster. But the day was too full of more important issues, and she didn’t want to say good-bye to her little girl after an argument. She let Amber move at her slow pace and pretended not to watch the clock count down the minutes. Her stress had nothing to do with Amber, and everything to do with the trip she was about to take. And the meeting that awaited her.

  Despite everything, the nighttime visit with Daniel still lingered, such that twice Amber asked why she was smiling. The second time, Stella replied, “You were right about Daniel.”

  Amber dropped her spoon into the bowl, splashing milk all over the counter. “Really?”

  “He’s a very good man. And I . . .”

  “Tell me, Mommy.”

  “I’m scared to say it.” She took a long breath. “It feels good to need him. Trust him. And come to love him. Maybe. Someday.”

  Amber smiled around a wreath of milk. “Someday like today, maybe?”

  “Your face is a mess.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  She used the dish towel to clean her da
ughter’s face. “You even have cereal in your hair.”

  Amber sang around her mouth being rubbed a little too hard. “My mommy’s in love.”

  * * *

  Stella had just pulled in front of Amber’s school when Daniel phoned. “We might have something.”

  Amber had already missed school that week. Stella had twice spoken with the principal’s office, once before they left and another time from LA. There were a dozen reasons why she should have ordered her daughter to hurry inside. Especially as the school bell chose that moment to ring, warning them both that Amber was now officially late for her Saturday dance class.

  Instead, Stella turned to where Amber stood frozen, half in and half out of the car, and said, “Get in.”

  Daniel said, “Excuse me?”

  “Wait just a second, Daniel.” She motioned for Amber to refasten her seat belt, then drove away from the narrow kiss-and-ride slot before one of the carpool cops could swoop down. Stella pulled into a space half a block farther down the road and said, “Define might.”

  “Sol doesn’t think we have enough. But he agrees we’ve taken a step in the right direction.”

  Stella reached across the divide. Amber responded by gripping her hand with both of hers, so tight her fingers cramped. Stella did not mind in the least. “Tell me everything.”

  CHAPTER 56

  Stella had always liked San Luis Obispo. The city was a way station for the entire central coast, from Santa Barbara to the southern reaches of Silicon Valley. Early settlers had traveled here for markets, dry goods, doctors, a night out, a good meal. The historic district was one of the most beautiful in California. Which made Perry Sanchez’s office even more of a shock.

  Palm Street bordered two parks and a dozen lovely Spanish-mission structures. By contrast, the prosecutor’s building rose like a glass-and-steel wart. The seventies-era structure had three stories, a flat roof, and oversized city shields adorning both front doors. Perhaps a sand-bagged gun turret and a barbed-wire perimeter fence would have made it less inviting, but Stella wasn’t sure. As she entered, she hoped desperately that whatever awaited her inside would not permanently stain her affection for the city.