Cici smiled, but sadness intermixed with pleasure as she held his gaze. “I hope you’re wrong. Or your boss is. Whatever. But I have to practice what I preach, Sam.”
“So, you’ll forgive him his sins even if he’s wrong?”
She hesitated, her eyes reflecting her jumbled feelings. “I’ll pray for his soul. Because from what you’ve said, he’s going to need all the good words he can get.”
Cici sat forward and grabbed Sam’s mug. She rose and tossed out their old coffee, pouring them each a fresh cup before joining him again at the table. She opened the container and pulled out a muffin. With methodical motions, she began to eat—her way of signaling the end of the conversation. He followed her lead. Once he finished his muffin, he said, “Hey, I have something for you.”
He pulled a small box out of his pocket. “I noticed you lost one in Chaco. I know they were your favorite earrings.”
He opened the box. A small teardrop twist of silver flashed in the overhead light. A fingernail-size piece of turquoise, the state stone, was embedded in the metal, set on the bottom, below a diamond baguette.
“I know they’re a little different, but they’re pretty, and I thought of you when I saw them.”
Cici touched the earrings with tentative fingers. “You had earrings made for me?”
“I wanted to get you something from the International Folk Art Market, but I was working. I saw these when I went to talk to some of the artisans on the Plaza.”
He’d been called to the scene for a large-scale robbery. As soon as he saw these particular earrings at one of the vendors’ stalls, he knew Cici would love them. They were both elegant and casual—perfect for her to wear every day or dress up with some of her mother’s expensive necklaces she’d inherited.
Sam shrugged as he rolled his lips into his mouth, not willing to tell her he’d had a special, minuscule tracker put in behind the chip of diamond after he bought them from an elderly Tesuque artist. Sam asked his buddy who designed high-end jewelry for one of the stores on the Plaza to superglue the remote device. He’d planned to give them to her right after he had them made—after he lost her in the Taos wilderness a few months ago. He’d decided after those heart-stopping minutes where he thought she was injured—or worse, dead—no way he was going through such horror again.
Except he had. He’d watched the blinking light of her cell phone flicker out in one of the absolute worst nights of his life—all because he’d been angry and confused and hurt. Worse, he’d been a fool for not telling Cici how he felt about her.
He hesitated, wondering if he should mention the device. Was that creepy? Before he could decide, Cici said, “Oh. Sam, that’s so sweet.”
“Will you wear them?” All the time—never taking them off. He didn’t say the words, though, because even in his head such a statement sounded crazy. “Please?”
“I’d be honored.” She slid the studs into her ears and clicked the backs into place. Sam let out a soft sigh of relief. She touched them, clearly pleased with the gift. She finished her coffee while he devoured another one of the muffins he’d added to his plate.
“I’d like to visit the cemetery. Check in with Aci.”
“All right,” Sam said. He pulled out a third muffin and decimated that one, too, while Cici nibbled at a small portion of her first. “And you’re going to have to talk to your mentor.”
Cici grimaced.
“C’mon, Cee. He’s worried about you. We all are. And it’s protocol.”
She put her hand to her stomach. “I know. Just like I know he’s going to want to dredge up all the events—”
“Cee—”
“And I’ll have to tell him about the men who died…” Her lip quivered and she blinked back tears. “It’s this and therapy. I get it. It’s to make sure I’m healthy enough to continue ministering to my flock. So, I’ll call him back. Today.”
“Promise?” Sam asked. He nudged her phone closer to her hand.
Cici rolled her eyes, annoyance and amusement sliding across her features. “Yes. I’ll do it while you call Evan. But, then, I want to visit with Cooper and Jay Urlich. See what they need as far as funeral arrangements go.”
“Deal,” Sam said.
While she called and spoke to her mentor, Sam took care of the dishes and let the dogs out. He called Evan but had to leave a message.
“See? That wasn’t so bad.”
Her upper lip curled a little. “I have to do weekly therapy and talk to him for the next six months.”
Sam settled into the chair next to hers and clasped her cool hand in his. She squeezed it a little.
“It’s necessary. I’m…” She sighed as she leaned back, her eyes closed. “Chaco messed me up.”
Chaco would have messed anyone up. But Cici’s caring nature made the hit doubly hard. Sam was smart enough to keep those thoughts to himself.
“That’s done for now. Let’s go to the cemetery and to Urlichs’,” he said, hoping the change in scenery would help her—maybe bring some much-needed color to her pallid skin. “I’d like to give my respects to your sister and also to Cooper.”
“I can’t imagine how he felt, seeing Patti in that rain barrel,” Cici murmured.
Neither could Sam. He’d never heard of an accidental drowning in a rain barrel, and that was a large part of why he wanted to accompany Cici when she visited the Urlich house. That, and because of the sense of foreboding he couldn’t shake.
5
Cici
Do not seek the because — in love there is no because, no reason, no explanation, no solutions. ― Anaïs Nin
* * *
The drift of air, cold and insistent, ruffled Cici’s hair and pushed on her neck under the woolen scarf she’d wrapped there.
Sam, a woolen cap pulled low over his ears and brow, walked behind her. Like Cici, he’d donned his down-filled jacket—black, of course—against the bitter wind screeching through town. His jeans were an old, worn pair and he’d pulled on a sweater over his gray T-shirt. As usual, his hiking boots’ laces were tied in an uneven bow with a sturdy double knot.
“Need some help, speedy?” he asked.
“No,” she said, panting at the effort to walk even this short distance. “And I can’t go any faster even with help.”
Cici gritted her teeth as she clomped her way toward the cemetery. Bright yellow sunlight speared between the gray and laden clouds. Too early for snow. At least it should be. But the vapor held the heavy promise of moisture and cold.
She settled herself in the frosty grass with a grunt, tugging her knee-length parka under her rump. The temperatures dropped over twenty degrees during the night and Cici shivered as the wind continued to swirl around her.
“Can I have a moment?” Cici asked. Sam nodded, his eyes shifting over the empty grounds. He drifted off to the left, into the older part of the cemetery.
Cici traced her pointer finger over the letters: Anna Carmen Sandra Gurule, Beloved Daughter and Sister
“I wanted to say thank you. For the help at Chaco. You saved my life. Again. I couldn’t do that for you when you needed me.” Cici swallowed the thick lump of emotion building in her throat. “I miss you, Aci.”
Nothing. Even the wind settled down, no longer brushing over her skin and sending tingles of cold along her spine.
“I wish you were here, with me. I wish I’d known you were in trouble then. I wish I’d been able to save you.” Cici shook her head.
“I have to go talk to one of my congregants. He lost his wife yesterday.” She relayed the story to her sister, shivering as a sharp, frigid blast of air pierced through her jacket.
“Sam wanted to say hello,” Cici said, struggling to rise. She waved him over. “Wish me luck today,” Cici murmured.
He strolled back and Cici asked for the car keys. “I’m going to sit in the heat, if you don’t mind.”
He dropped the keys in her hand before he crouched down, murmuring to Aci, much as she’d done moment
s before.
She settled into the car and turned on the ignition before shoving her hands under her thighs in an attempt to improve the circulation to her fingers.
Sam joined her as she turned the heat on full blast.
“To the Urlichs’ home?” Sam asked.
Cici nodded as she continued to shiver.
“You’re not cold?” Cici asked.
Sam shook his head. “It’s not that bad out there.”
“The wind didn’t cut through you?”
Sam shot her a long, speculative look. “There wasn’t any wind.”
6
Cici
Character is fate. ― Sylvia Plath
* * *
By the time Sam pulled into the Urlichs’ driveway in the Sol y Lomas neighborhood off of Rodeo Road, Cici’s fingers tingled with warmth, but she’d fixated on the ambient chill at her sister’s graveside. They passed one other car puttering down the quiet streets.
“Do you miss Denver?” Cici asked.
“Nope, but I will admit most of Colorado has better trees in its neighborhoods.”
They both frowned at the few junipers and a lone cottonwood stretching down next to the asphalt.
Cici put her purse in her lap and pulled at the makeup bag she’d put there. She opened the facial powder compact and examined her face. Most of the small nicks were healing but the abrasion at her temple still wept a little. With a disgusted huff, she closed the container. Makeup wouldn’t mask her recent ordeal.
Once Sam parked, she exited the car and headed up the walkway. She knocked as Sam joined her. The door opened to reveal the sandy hair and freckled face of Jay Urlich. Cici knelt down, trying not to wince at the pain that radiated up from her ankle.
“Hey, there, kiddo,” she said, her voice soft and her smile as warm as possible. “Where’s your dad?”
“What happened to you?” Jay asked. He poked at his little belly.
At least she hadn’t frightened him. “I took a fall on a hike.”
“My mommy fell.” His lip began to quiver. “I want my mommy.”
Jay always charmed her with his slight lisp, but now, the sadness in his eyes caused her heart to clench and ache. “I’m sure you do, sweetie.”
“Jay, how many times do I have to tell you not to… Oh, hello, Reverend.”
“Blessings, Cooper.”
Cooper laid his hand on Jay’s shoulder. The boy pressed back against his father as if he needed the physical nearness to reaffirm that Cooper, too, wouldn’t disappear on him. Cooper examined Cici’s face and the visible cuts on her hands.
“Heard about your sojourn in Chaco. Glad you’re okay.” Cooper’s voice turned brusque.
“You remember Sam?”
Cooper stuck out his free hand and shook Sam’s. “Want to come in?”
“If now’s a good time,” Sam said.
Cooper’s lips turned down and he shot a glance at Jay. “I’m not sure there’s going to be one.” He cleared his throat. “Not for a while.”
Cici and Sam stepped inside and Cooper shut the door.
“Is that your train table?” Sam asked Jay, who nodded enthusiastically.
Sam took the boy’s small, outstretched hand as they walked across the living room’s red bricks to the large, green-and-white table. Sam settled next to it, leaning on his hip to get himself low enough while Jay started to talk, picking up each of his trains and getting more excited with each passing moment.
Cooper squeezed the back of his neck. “This is so confusing for him.”
“And hard on you,” Cici murmured. “We, all the members of the congregation, are here to help. Please let me know what I can do.”
Cooper’s gaze darted to hers, then settled back on his son. “Thanks. It’s early days yet. I just don’t know what—”
Another knock came on the door and Cooper opened it, a guarded expression sliding over his face.
“Hello again, Detective Raynor.”
“Mr. Urlich. So glad I caught you. I wonder if I might have a quick word. Ask a couple of questions?”
Cici shivered as a tendril of cold air swept up her legs and settled around the tender skin at her waistline. She glanced around, half-expecting to see her sister pointing at something. Of course, her sister didn’t appear.
“My reverend is here,” Cooper said, his tone reluctant.
Cici waved to Raynor. The man had worked in the uniformed division last time she saw him at a picnic about six months ago. His close-cropped dark hair sat atop a mid-tone complexion that slid over his blunted, heavy features and the start of heavy jowls. His eyes were a light brown and his current suit seemed to be fresh-from-the-rack in a less than flattering manner of a too-long inseam and an overly boxy coat.
Sam rose from the floor, eyeing Raynor with interest.
“Sam! Hey, good to see you, man,” Raynor said, coming in to shake Sam’s hand. “As you can see, Chief promoted me to your old position.”
Jay turned from his train set and his lip began to quiver at the sight of Raynor. A couple of tears splashed down his cheek. Cooper scooped up his son and cradled him to his broad chest.
Raynor’s eyes darted to Jay before he said, “We’re looking to wrap up some loose ends. Are you going to be sticking around for a few?” Raynor beamed at Sam, his teeth gleaming white in his face.
“I really don’t think now’s a good time,” Cooper said. He glanced down at Jay. “Are you tired, buddy? Need a drink?”
Jay whispered something and Cooper nodded.
“All right. A little bit of juice.” Cooper carried the preschooler into the kitchen.
Cici edged closer to Sam and Raynor in time to hear Raynor say, “This is a hell of a case to cut my teeth on. No sign of forced entry but water everywhere. That’s probably from her splashing and trying to get out. Who lashes a rain barrel to a door inside? I’ve lived in this city for over thirty years, and I’ve never heard of such a thing before.”
7
Sam
I love you, with a touch of tragedy and quite madly. ― Simone de Beauvoir
* * *
“One of the Urlichs must have been worried about the barrel tipping on their toddler,” Sam said. “And I’m sure other parents lash them to the walls outside. I read something about it in a magazine a few years ago. I remember the other suggestions for having rain barrels on your property were pretty obvious. Like cover the top with mesh to prevent insects and don’t drink the water.”
“While I see what you’re saying, if the kid is old enough that he wouldn’t pull the barrel over, why use ropes to anchor it?” Raynor asked. His expression turned darker as he glanced over at Cooper. “I don’t like this.”
“We held a water harvesting workshop with those tips and Cooper was there,” Cici said. “He’s always taken his role as a father seriously. And, just to clarify, Jay isn’t a toddler. He’s a preschooler. But I think a lot of babyproofing stuff applies until kids go to kindergarten.”
“Can I see the location?” Sam asked, his brow furrowing, no doubt in response to Raynor’s words.
“I’ll stay here and play with Jay.” The look she shot Sam told him she planned to coax a more positive reaction from the kid, which might alleviate Cooper’s concerns about this second round of investigation.
“Thanks, Cee,” Sam said as Raynor led the way toward the garage. Cici turned on her heel and headed to the kitchen.
Raynor led Sam into the small laundry/mudroom between the living space and the garage. On the garage side was one of those red rain barrels Sam saw in the grocery stores each spring. It laid on its side, water puddled in the ridges. The black lid sat around the top, but the fabric screen that was typically nestled between the lid and the opening for the water was shredded with bits flung outside the barrel to hang down in limp black clumps like insect legs. A thick, darker stain covered the floor as if the water had been tipped out and soaked into the concrete.
Sam leaned down and peered inside.
/> “You test this?” he asked.
“The water? Yeah, I collected a vile for the OMI.”
The Office of Medical Investigation was housed at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque. While the state’s population remained small, the state-of-the-art facility offered top-notch research and science—just not as well-staffed as some of the larger medical investigative units in other metropolitan areas.
“You might want to have your boss call this in as urgent,” Sam said. “If you don’t, you’ll be sitting in the queue behind whatever problems occurred in Albuquerque and Las Cruces in the preceding hours and days.”
“Oh. Good to know,” Raynor said. He rocked back on the heels of his shiny black dress shoes.
“And this whole area’s how much water spilled out?” Sam asked.
“When the deceased’s husband cut the tie and tipped the barrel,” Raynor said. He frowned. “I don’t remember it so big.” Then he shrugged.
Sam peered at the door frame. “You got the rope, right?”
Raynor nodded. “Having it reviewed, too.”
Sam smiled. “Good investigative work, man.”
Raynor chuckled. “I learned from the best.”
“Seriously?” Cooper said from the doorway. “You’re laughing at some joke right now? I lost my wife. She’s dead.”
Cooper turned away and bowed his head. He rubbed his temples. “Can we just get this over with? I need to spend some time with my son. You being here upsets him.” He said with a glare at Raynor.
“Sure thing, Mr. Urlich,” Raynor said, looking contrite. Sam wanted to point out he hadn’t done anything wrong, but now wasn’t the time.
“I’d like you to go over the timeline once again,” Raynor said.
A Revelation of Death Page 3
