“How is he doing now?”
“He’s been on a lot of first dates, not as many second ones. No relationships, at least no one he’s ever brought around for more than a quick hello. When Aileen asks him about it, he says the same thing—women are different now.”
Different? What did that mean?
“I want him to be happy. I can’t tell if he is or not.”
“Since we’re exchanging information, I wonder if you might indulge a curious father and answer one of mine.”
She nodded. He continued.
“You’re back. You’ve seen Bo a few times now. Talked with him. Is it possible you still have feelings for my son?”
She paused, considering what he’d asked.
It was a fair question.
She just didn’t know the answer.
CHAPTER 21
Ruby stood at the kitchen sink, her hands outfitted in rubber gloves submerged beneath soapy layers of lukewarm water. She’d plunged her hands into the murky, debris-filled water and picked up the same white plate three times now. At this point, it was so clean, it sparkled like her floors did when she used her favorite polish—the expensive one she purchased at Home Depot. If she looked at the plate close enough, she could even make out the shadowy outline of her own reflection. The dish was clean all right. The president himself could have eaten off of it.
The ritual of standing at the counter, circling her hand around a thrice-cleaned plate had little to do with cleanliness and a lot more to do with resisting the urge to do something else—something she’d promised she’d stop doing—pressing Jacob for information. She knew it wasn’t right. He was a child. He’d already gone mute as a result of the horror he’d suffered. Imagine the further damage she could cause if she pushed him harder. He needed to forget the night ever happened, wipe it from his memory.
The fact Evie was gone and Ruby was living was something she considered a grave injustice. It wasn’t right, wasn’t fair. It went against the natural order of things. It should have been Ruby returning to dust beneath the ground. Ruby who went first. Not her beloved Evie.
Part of her felt guilty standing there, staring at Jacob, contemplating a subtle way to get him talking of his own accord, without her provoking him. The other part played devil’s advocate, clouding her mind with reasonable validation.
Prompt him.
It might be good for him.
Maybe he can’t move on because he’s suppressing it instead of talking about it.
Could it be true?
Could opening him up actually help him in some way?
If she was going to do this, she couldn’t do it alone. She needed a friend. Perhaps just one shot of vodka wouldn’t hurt. In truth, it would be her second of the day. But it was just the two of them there. Who was counting?
Ruby reached inside the liquor cabinet, removed a glass and a bottle of Belvedere, and poured. The stench of alcohol lingered within the fibers of her nose as the liquid burned its way down her throat, spreading placid relaxation, a remedy that trumped any prescription medication on the planet. She raised a glass in silence, praising the effect of what a superior, top-shelf beverage could do to soothe an old woman.
Jacob sat at the table several feet away, marker in hand, sketching the same picture he’d been working on for the past two hours—a circle drawn in black with a silver cat inside. Ruby stepped closer, noticing something over the cat’s head—a hat, or a halo. It was hard to tell. The cat’s front paws were up, claws extended, like he was pushing against the circle, scratching, trying to get out. The child certainly had an active imagination. He always had. The dozens of pictures she’d taped to her refrigerator over the past several months proved it.
Ruby entered the spare bedroom, pulled a cardboard box from the top of the closet containing toys Evie had played with as a child. The toy Ruby wanted was right at the top. She pulled it out, brushing a hand up and down its exterior, and said, “This will do nicely.”
The marker in Jacob’s hand ceased all movement when Ruby returned to the room, his eyes fixed on what she held in her arms. She sat beside him, pointed at the picture he’d been drawing. “Is this for me?”
He nodded.
“It’s so pretty. What is it?”
He took his eyes off the toy for a moment and looked up at her, his face vacant, eyes sallow like a cloudy marble. Since Evie’s death he behaved as if all the life inside of him had been snuffed out. She couldn’t take seeing him like this—so pained, so lost. She couldn’t let it go on any longer. It had to stop. Now.
She hoisted a furry bear onto the top of the table and said, “Would you like to play with him?”
He nodded.
“This bear was your mother’s. She never played with him much, though. She never liked stuffed toys or dolls. She preferred the outdoors, building things out of sticks and rocks. Most days her clothes were filthy after she’d spent the day outside, searching for lizards or digging for bugs. Did you know that?”
He shook his head.
“Well, I bet your mom would like you to have this bear. Would you like him?”
He nodded.
“Before I give him to you, I want to show you something he does. Something special. He talks.”
For the first time since lunch, he set the markers down. It was a good start.
The bear sparked to life, saying his name was Teddy Ruxpin and asking if Jacob wanted to hear a story.
“Let’s see then,” Ruby said. “I’ll tell the first story, and then we’ll let Teddy tell the second. All right?”
Head nod.
She thought about starting the story in the classic “once upon a time” fashion, then nixed the idea. Jacob lived in the real world, not an enchanted land of make-believe fairies. She didn’t want him believing the recent past could be undone with a few sprinkles of magic dust. She needed to tread lightly, tell her story in a way he could understand, if she wanted her idea to work.
“One night a mother gave her daughter a kiss and tucked her into bed,” she began. “When she left the room, the little girl couldn’t sleep. She knew she wasn’t supposed to get out of bed, but she could hear her mother talking to a man in the living room, and she wanted to know who he was and why he was at her house so late at night. The girl got out of bed, tiptoed to the door, and peeked out. And do you know what she saw?”
Jacob shook his head.
“She saw a man she’d never seen before. A bad man. She knew he was bad because he said mean things to her mother, and the little girl didn’t like it. She wanted the man to go away, so she stepped out of her room. The man saw the little girl. He smiled at her and told her everything was going to be all right, but she needed to go back to bed and not come out of her room again. She didn’t want to go back to bed. She wanted to tell someone about the bad man in the house, but she knew she couldn’t leave. She got back on her bed, grabbed her teddy bear, and held him tight. She told the teddy bear everything she’d seen. When she was finished, she felt a lot better. And when she looked out her bedroom door again, the man was gone, and the little girl was safe.”
Ruby held Teddy Ruxpin out toward Jacob. “Go on, Jacob. You can tell Teddy anything. The bear is safe. He won’t hurt you. No one will. You’re safe now.”
Jacob brought his knees to his chest and flattened his hands over his face.
“Come on now, Jacob,” she prompted.
From the other room, she heard someone say, “Ruby? Are you here? The door was already open so I—.”
Ruby’s eyes widened.
Shit.
Quinn.
Quinn entered the room. Looked at the bear, at Jacob, at the guilty look Ruby was sure was plastered across her own face.
“What’s going on here? Are you trying to get him to ... Ruby, you promised me.”
“Nothing happened.”
“But you were trying to make something happen, weren’t you? Don’t deny it.”
Ruby clamped her mouth shut. Quinn cros
sed her arms in front of her, spoke through gritted teeth. “Outside. Now.”
“It’s cold outside. We’ll talk in here. We can go to my bedroom if you like.”
“Fine.”
Ruby started down the hall, Quinn followed, both halting when they heard, “Do you want to play a game?”
Ruby and Quinn glared at each other. Neither of them had spoken. Simultaneously they turned around, eyed Jacob. Ruby squeezed Quinn’s arm, a warning not to interrupt him. Quinn shrugged her off but said nothing.
Jacob held two markers, one in each hand. They were propped up side by side in front of Teddy Ruxpin like two people talking to each other, the black marker raised higher in the air than the gray one. The black marker repeated the same sentence Ruby had heard before. “Do you want to play a game?”
The grey marker moved forward and back and said, “I like games.”
The black marker replied, “Me too. Follow the rules, and I’ll give you a piece of candy. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Turn around.”
The gray marker spun around.
“Good. Now close your eyes and stick your fingers in your ears. Keep them there until I take them out.”
Jacob released both markers. They clanged onto the paper, rolled down the table, plummeting off the edge. He plugged his ears with his fingers and closed his eyes. Several seconds passed until they flashed open again. He grabbed Teddy Ruxpin, wrapped both arms around him, and shouted, “Pkurrr. Pkurrr. Pkurrr.”
CHAPTER 22
Ruby phoned the police. This caught Quinn off guard, assuming Ruby wouldn’t want to spoil the moment, the opportunity to keep Jacob talking. But it was too late—he’d already clammed back up and returned to drawing. His new bear friend rested on his lap, looking on.
Ruby hung her head. She looked relieved. Jacob had spoken, finally admitting what happened the night Evie died, from his point of view. Maybe she thought the revelation would lead police in a new direction, offer additional clues, help solve the murder. Quinn didn’t see how. He hadn’t said anything alarming. Nothing new. Nothing earth shattering.
“You need to understand,” Ruby started. “I was only trying to—”
“Stop, Ruby,” Quinn said. “There’s a time and a place for this conversation, and it isn’t now, or here, or in front of your grandson. If that’s too hard, I’ll leave, and I’ll take Jacob. And you can deal with the police on your own.”
“You couldn’t take Jacob from me even if you wanted to. For now, I’m his temporary guardian.”
“Emphasis on the word temporary.”
Ruby took Quinn by the wrist, led her into the kitchen, whispered, “You really don’t get it, do you? Don’t you know what this means? I was right. Jacob saw who did it. He can ID the bastard!”
“I don’t care. You won’t keep pressing him, Ruby. I won’t allow it.”
“I like you, Quinn, but don’t push me. I’m his blood. His family.”
“I know you are, and I’m trying to give you the respect you deserve. And right now, you need to respect what’s best for him.”
“You’re chastising me like you think I’m intentionally trying to hurt him.”
“Neither of us knows the impact Evie’s death has had on him,” Quinn said. “He used to talk nonstop. Now he’s shutting down, bottling it all up inside. It isn’t like him, Ruby.”
Hand on hip, Ruby said, “What do you propose?”
“Once I’m granted guardianship, I’m taking him to see a therapist.”
“Your solution is to send him to some quack?”
“I’ll do whatever is necessary to help him through this, and so should you.”
The phone rang. Ruby answered it. One of her neighbors asked if Jacob would like to join their four-year-old daughter on a trip to the ice cream parlor. A few minutes later, he was picked up.
“He’ll be fine, Quinn,” Ruby said. “Stop worrying.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
Ruby put a hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “You didn’t have to, dear.” She pointed at a car across the street. It pulled out, followed the neighbors van. “See those men in that car? They’re cops. They’ll make sure Jacob’s safe.”
A few minutes later a heavy rapping sound came from the other side of the front door. Ruby opened the door and two men entered. Bo and Kyle Grady, another one of Quinn’s former classmates.
Kyle bobbed his head around the corner, his eyes widening when he saw Quinn. “Quinn Montgomery? Is that you? I heard you were back in town.”
“Good to see you, Kyle.”
She meant it too. Kyle had always had a way with women, a gift for reeling the girls in, which, in high school meant he had a plethora of ladies swarming around him at any given time. Voted “biggest flirt,” he knew how to say the right thing in almost any situation. And with his messy, jet-black hair and square, symmetrical face, he was easy to gawk at, too. And gawk Quinn did. Eye level, and parked right in front of her, she had no other option.
Kyle scooped Quinn into his muscular arms, twirled her around. “Man, seems like forever since I saw you last. We’ve missed you around here. How long you stayin’?”
“Permanently, I hope.”
Bo tapped him on the shoulder. “You might want to ease up before you squeeze the life out of her.”
Kyle released Quinn, laughed. “Why do you care how tight I hold this fine woman, Bo? You’re with Simone now, aren’t ya?”
Simone?
Earlier, Harvey made it clear Bo wasn’t in a relationship. Was he in the dark as much as she was, or had Harvey kept it from her?
Hearing Bo was exclusive with another woman wasn’t something Quinn expected. Then again, Bo had never admitted to being single—she’d just assumed it. And why wouldn’t she? He’d gone through a lot of effort to talk to her. Not to mention the fact his place was prime bachelor-pad material. It didn’t contain one shred of evidence he was in a relationship. No girlfriend photos, no pink overnight toothbrush in the bathroom. Nothing.
She had no right to ask, to meddle in his personal affairs. She did anyway. “Who’s Simone?”
Bo looked at Kyle like a bull sizing up a matador. Kyle continued his overzealous babbling, saying, “Oh hey, man. I didn’t know she didn’t know. I swear. Figured you told her. My bad.”
Quinn didn’t buy Kyle’s innocent act, and judging from the look on Bo’s face, neither did he. Bo deflected the conversation by switching gears, asking Ruby to recall what Jacob had said before they arrived. She told him. He considered the information, then said, “Look, I’m not trying to be rude here, but you can’t call us every time Jacob says something. I know you’re anxious for us to find the person who killed Evie. We are too. Believe me. But unless it’s something significant, there’s not a lot I can do.”
“I disagree,” Ruby said. “You can try talking to him again.”
“We’ve tried. Multiple times. I’m not going to push him again until he’s ready. Until then, we’re working some other leads.”
“What leads?” Ruby asked.
“I can’t talk about it right now.”
“Of course not,” Quinn added. “You can’t talk about anything.”
“Quinn, don’t,” Bo said.
“Don’t what—state the obvious?” she said. “Excuse us for trying to find out what happened to Evie.”
Bo exhaled a long, frustrated breath. He walked over to the table, lifted a piece of paper off of it. “Did Jacob draw this?”
Ruby nodded.
“Looks like a cat or a lion or something. A lot of detail for a four-year-old kid.”
Bo removed a phone from his pocket, snapped a picture. Quinn followed suit.
“What are you doing?” Bo asked.
“Same thing you’re doing.”
Bo was right. The drawing was elaborate for such a young age. A cat inside a circle, paws up, crown on his head. Either Jacob had a gifted imagination, or he’d copied the image from somewhere.
Bo folded the drawing, shoved it inside his pocket.
Kyle walked over, rested his hands on Quinn’s shoulders. “You have any dinner plans tonight?”
“What did you have in mind?” Quinn asked.
“I’ll be off in an hour. You wanna grab dinner later?”
“Her friend just died,” Bo said, “and you’re asking her out on a date?”
“It’s not a date, Bo,” Kyle replied. “It’s dinner. It’s a shame, what happened to Evie. You still gotta eat though, right?”
“Don’t you think you’re putting her on the spot?” Bo asked.
Kyle’s eyes rolled back. “Come out with me tonight, Quinn. I promise to keep you smilin’.”
Bo fidgeted, his finger almost tapping a hole into the side of the wall, the sound growing louder the more Kyle engaged Quinn in conversation. It was his tell, something he’d always done whenever he was nervous. He had a girlfriend. Why did he care what she did and who she did it with?
Quinn wanted nothing more than to slip into a pair of flannel pajamas, crawl into bed, and read the contents of the letter Evie left her. But Kyle was fun, and even the smallest adjustment in mood sounded inviting.
“You remember where my parents live don’t you?” she asked.
Kyle nodded. “I do.”
“Great. See you in an hour.”
CHAPTER 23
“So, what’s the deal with you and Bo?”
The first thing Quinn observed after Kyle posed the question was that he wasn’t staring at her face when he posed it—he was staring at her cleavage. In the twenty minutes since they’d been seated at Mammoth Burger, his attention kept darting back and forth—face, cleavage, face, cleavage, like an anxiety-riddled fly second-guessing which landing spot suited him best.
In part, she blamed herself. She also blamed her canary blue, low-cut, V-neck sweater. When she’d changed before he arrived, she’d thrown the new sweater on. She’d never worn it before. It still had the tags on. It felt fine. It looked fine. At first. Now, as the minutes ticked by, the center of the shirt kept dipping lower, and she kept reaching down, yanking it back up a respectable inch or two above the exposed breast danger zone.
A View to a Kill Page 9
