“Secret spots?” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“You know what I mean.” I laughed. “His make-out locations. Other than the Bat Caves because, obviously, that one’s been covered.”
She leaned forward on her elbows. “You think he killed Ava and dumped her body at one of those spots?”
“I have no-o-o idea. I’m grasping at straws here,” I told her honestly. “Just need something to go on.”
She sat back and thought a minute. “So you need my help, huh? Tell you what. I’ll think about it and send you all the places that come to mind if you’ll buy me dinner next week. Somewhere decent.” She tucked a wayward strand of hair back into her ponytail. “If I have to eat another burger I’m going to start mooing.”
“Sure. I could do that. When will you send me the list?”
“When I get around to it.”
With Katie everything had a price and she liked things on her own terms. It was amazing how being away from someone for a while allowed you to see them more clearly. Still, for all her faults, perhaps part of me had missed her and maybe it would be good to do dinner and put the tragedy of the past behind us.
We walked out into the hot parking lot and I pressed the key fob to unlock my Jeep.
“So that’s the only reason why you came to find me? To ask about Ron?” Katie fell into step beside me. “I figured you were back to ask me about that FBI guy talking about your mom. Is he trying to find her?”
“He’s working on it,” I told her, opening my car door. “Looks like she’s alive but involved in drugs so...” I shrugged to make it seem like I was okay with however it played out.
“Yeah, the guy he was lunching with that time looked a little sketchy.”
“What did he look like?”
“Old. Like maybe fifties. Skinny as all hell. Bald and had a long goatee that was braided.”
My head started spinning because Katie had just described Ted. Mom’s ex-boyfriend and the last place I’d gone looking for her myself.
“Nice ride,” Kate commented as she looked beyond me into my Jeep. “Helluva a lot better than the old one you had when we hung out. Did I mention I had to sell my Mustang after Mom died? I’m rocking that old piece of crap these days. When it runs. Other days I take the bus.”
She pointed to an old brown four-door sedan with rust holes in the fenders.
Katie loved her metallic blue 1972 Mustang. I couldn’t imagine her taking a bus.
She sighed as she walked away and then called over her shoulder, “Good to see you got something good when everything went to shit.”
I didn’t reply. I didn’t like to think of the Jeep as the profits from that horrid end to my old life. If I thought about it like that, I couldn’t drive it.
I started up the vehicle and spent a minute checking my phone. I received a notification from the security app that there was movement on one of the cameras at my house. My heart pounded as I opened the app and clicked on the camera. A wild brown rabbit was nibbling grass in my backyard. I exhaled on a loud laugh.
“Bring on attack of the bunnies!” I was so relieved I almost cried. Almost immediately I received a text from Garrett saying not to worry, it was only a rabbit. Obviously he was keeping tabs on the security system too.
His next text was: Where are you?
He also seemed to be keeping tabs on me. No big surprise. I wanted to ask him about Ted and why he’d met him at the diner and not told me who he’d talked to about my mother. I knew he struggled with keeping things confidential, and if Ted was part of his current investigation that would be the reason he hadn’t mentioned his name. Still, it annoyed the hell out of me so my reply to him was a selfie with me sticking my tongue out.
See you in a few hours, he texted.
My psychiatrist appointment was later this afternoon. I needed to gather Wookie, pack an overnight bag and make my way to Seattle.
After I returned to the vet’s office and paid the bill they gave me a coupon for the doggie daycare next door.
“If you’re a new client at the doggie daycare you also get a coupon for buy-one-get-one massage,” the receptionist said, thrusting a pale blue slip of paper into my hands.
“I don’t need one.”
I wasn’t big on the idea of someone rubbing my body unless that someone was Garrett. A massage would mean having to explain the keloid scarring on my back from years of abuse at the hands of my grandmother.
I tried handing the coupon back to her and she laughed.
“It’s not for you.” She pointed to Wookie, who was tugging so hard on the leash my shoulder was about to dislocate. “The doggie daycare does them. So many dogs really love it and it’s good for them too.”
I thanked her and folded the blue paper and tucked it in my back pocket as we headed out the door.
Wookie was thrilled to get home and he did a breakneck run around the rooms in a fit of energy that made me laugh, particularly when he came skidding along the tile in the kitchen.
“We gotta get going.” I rubbed the dog’s head. “Can’t be late for the shrink ’cuz she’ll charge me for the time even if I’m not there.”
My phone chirped a text from Garrett just as I was locking up the door behind us.
You better get going. You’re going to be late.
I looked up at the security camera and lifted my shirt to give him an impromptu peep show.
Ni-i-ice, was his reply followed by some heart emojis.
Sure, I was making it all seem like fun and games but I was getting a little ticked off about the whole thing.
“We’re going to have to talk about you spying on me,” I grumbled under my breath as I loaded my bag and Wookie back into the Jeep.
After I fought through the slugfest that was Seattle traffic I gave Wookie a quick run around the block and then took him up to Garrett’s condo. He had his own dog bed, toys and dishes already there and he immediately made himself comfortable. Before heading to my appointment I left him a note: Can’t wait to see you, Mr. Sexy! Xoxo
My therapist’s office was only a couple blocks away and by the time I was done my session, Garrett would be home with a pizza.
Dr. Abbey Chen specialized in Post-Traumatic Stress and Trauma. After a lengthy hospital stay where I was more medicated than treated, it was recommended that I see Dr. Chen. Her website boasted that she treated clients in a professional and confidential setting that felt safe, comfortable and nonjudgmental. I might feel safe there but after all these months the air of judgment was thick even if it was all of my own making.
She asked about events since my last session. When I’d first started therapy I’d just sit there and not talk at all but it pained me to pay her fee and not get anything out of it. Even though I knew I wasn’t nearly as open with her as I should be, I’d come a long way over the course of the past year. I started today’s meeting by giving her the abbreviated version of my life over the few weeks since I’d last seen her. When I mentioned running into Katie, her eyebrows went up in surprise. Then I added the news about my mother, and Dr. Chen sat forward in her chair and looked as shocked as I’d felt. Then we did the question-answer tango.
“How did you feel when Garrett told you that your mom might be alive?”
“Confused.”
“Did seeing Katie bring back memories of happier childhood times?”
“No.”
“Do you feel the skills you’ve learned here helped you to walk over that forest bridge when at Ava Johansson’s crime scene?”
“Sure.”
“Do you still hear your grandmother’s voice saying negative things?”
“Sometimes.”
“Do you think you’ll pursue a friendship with this new girl, Tracey?”
“Not sure.”
“How long has it been since you thought about taking a drink
?”
“Five minutes. No...two.”
“Are we ever going to get beyond your short monosyllable answers?”
“Probably not.”
Dr. Chen was patient, encouraging and full of helpful tricks and exercises to deal with triggers that caused my mind to get sucked into quicksand thoughts and made me spiral into hell. Triggers were when something innocent like going on a hike and having to walk over a bridge made me want to curl into the fetal position and suckle on a chardonnay nipple. I guess things like mindfulness exercises and deep breathing helped at those times but, honestly, part of me wondered if all this naval-gazing in therapy was really helping or if I was just too scared to stop going.
“Do you feel like coming here is a waste of your time?” the doctor asked, reading my mind.
“Maybe,” I admitted. “I’m coming ’cause I’m scared not to.”
“What do you think would happen if you stopped coming?”
I shrugged but I did know that without someone holding me accountable the temptation to drink might get stronger. The monster in my belly that screamed “Feed me wine!” was a whole lot louder if I went a long time without seeing her, and the medications I’d been on in the beginning felt a bit too good to have lurking in my medicine cabinet.
“Do you want to start coming less?”
“No.” I didn’t want to start drinking again. Or worse. Maybe get pulled into dark thoughts and not be able to claw my way out.
“Julie? What do you think would happen if you didn’t see me?” she repeated.
“Can we make our next appointment a little later in the evening?” I asked, avoiding her question.
We booked another time and day a few weeks later and then, as she walked me out, Doc suggested I contact Tracey to go for a coffee as a way of getting beyond my comfort zone and making the community feel more like home. She also commended me for continuing to go on small hikes as a way to clear my head and find peace but said they didn’t count toward that if those hikes turned into body-finding missions.
Apparently there was no such thing as a twofer here.
While I was walking back to Garrett’s apartment I tried to enjoy the moment. The sun was warm on my body. The city was bustling around me and everyone seemed Friday-afternoon happy. Except for me. I felt uneasy in my own skin as I thought about having a mother out there somewhere and she might actually care that I wasn’t given up for adoption like she’d been told.
She might care and I might matter.
Or not.
Immediately following that thought came a temptation, not for the first time or the tenth, to relieve the ball of tension in my gut with a drink. Just one glass...even one sip.
Up ahead a woman flipped her waist-length hair and leaned in to hug the man walking beside her. I picked up my pace until I closed the gap between us with my heart pounding until she glanced over her shoulder and I realized she wasn’t my mother. Besides the long hair, there wasn’t even a glimmer of resemblance but, for some reason, my hopes had soared. The regret and aching hit me in the chest like a blow that took my breath away.
By the time I was opening the door to Garrett’s apartment I was miserable. Then Wookie bounded over and climbed my torso to lick my chin, and Garrett pulled me into a welcoming hug.
“My two guys.” I smiled as I kissed one and petted the other. “And pizza.” I kicked off my shoes and headed to the living room. “What more could a girl want?”
And I meant it. Even in the darkest places inside my head, I knew I was damn lucky.
While we ate pizza and drank cola Garrett regaled me with humorous stories about the drama in the lives of the goofy unnamed people he worked with, which he spun in a purposeful way to tweak a laugh out of me in spite of myself. I knew what he was doing. Every time I had a therapy session and returned brooding and angry with the world and my sucky past, Garrett put in a huge effort to turn my mood around. He was one of the good ones. Despite his own personal demons of losing a wife and son, he’d been able to get his shit together and still be a good person. I wanted that for myself.
We finished the pizza and turned the television on to watch an action flick. I cozied up to him and nestled my head into the crook of his arm. About an hour into it, my mind grew restless. Try as I might, thoughts of my mother giving me up kept slinking back to the front of my mind. Garrett was intent on watching the movie but I didn’t care. I reached for his belt, unhooked the buckle and slid the zipper of his pants down. He covered my hand with his own and lifted my face so that he could kiss me but I pulled away and lowered my head to his lap. I encouraged his pants and boxers down off his hips and pulled his erection into my mouth. I lost my horrid thoughts of past trauma in pleasuring him.
Near dawn, as we lay spooned in his bed, I dreamed of the back of my mother’s head going down the road after she’d said goodbye to me on my grandparent’s farm. In my dream, my mother turned around but then her face had become my grandmother’s and the sweet goodbye moment turned violent. I woke up shaking and in a cold sweat.
Garrett placed a comforting hand on my thigh and then fell back to sleep. There’d be no sleeping for me now so I dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt and took Wookie for a brisk morning walk around the block. The city was already alive with throngs of people hurrying to their destinations. I kept Wookie on a short leash so he wouldn’t get trampled or snarl at other dogs. It was not the relaxing run in my backyard either of us enjoyed.
When we got back, I made coffee. While I listened to the gurgle and spit of the coffee maker coming to life I went to the dining table where we never ate and shuffled through Garrett’s paperwork looking for anything to do with my mother or her ex-boyfriend. Nothing jumped out at me. The only files around were about another case that was meaningless. I hated myself for going through his stuff and hated more the burning to know about my mom that made me itch with need.
Garrett woke and showered an hour later and he found me still sitting at the table, all files pushed aside and my hands wrapped around my third coffee.
“At the table, are we?” he joked.
“Yes, we’re high-class now. You’ll have to drink your coffee with your pinky out.”
As he bent to kiss me I noticed him scan the table and see the obvious way I’d pushed the papers and stacked them.
“Looking for stuff about your mom?” He walked over to pour himself some coffee.
“Ted,” I replied. “Tell me about you meeting Ted at Big Al’s in Blaine. Katie was working there. She saw you. She described Ted so I know it was him.” The words came out biting and the tone was accusing even though I hadn’t meant it to be so I softened it a bit, adding, “Please.”
He pulled a chair up next to mine and reached for my hand. “When did you see Katie?”
“I ran into her at a burger joint where she works.”
“Can’t imagine her flipping burgers.”
“Yeah, well, apparently she wants to flip burgers but only gets to take out the trash.” I reached over and tugged on his baby finger. “Remember we’re fancy now so you have to drink with your pinky out.”
He laughed and elaborately brought his mug to his lips in a pseudo-posh way that made us both chuckle.
“To answer your question, I’m not hiding anything from you that would keep you from finding your mother. I’m not the bad guy here.” He put his coffee mug down. “Yes, I met with Ted. It was to do with this case but, yes, since I knew he once was together with your mother I did ask about her. He chose to meet at that diner. Said he was meeting a friend up that way. How was it seeing Katie?”
I filled him in on seeing her the first time after finding Ron Low and about seeking her out a second time at the burger place to get more information about Ron.
“It must be hard seeing her,” he said softly.
I thought about that.
“Sad.” I sig
hed. “It just makes me feel sad. For both of us.”
He nodded in understanding and we both sat there quietly until our phones chimed in unison. We looked at each other and snatched up our phones, realizing the notification was the alarm system at the house.
A spider had built an elaborate web across the camera lens at the back patio door and was scurrying back and forth across the camera. We burst out laughing.
“First an attack rabbit and now I’m under spider siege.”
We had a good giggle about it. It would be a perfect moment to bring up how much I hated him keeping such close tabs on me but laughing was a great way to end my overnight stay and so I just left it. I figured that once I was done with this Ava case, things would settle down and I’d look at having him either take down the cameras or remove the app from his phone. Garrett headed off to work to do federal agent things and Wookie and I climbed into my Jeep to go and do my kind of finding the dead things.
Traffic was bad because it was always bad on I-5. Wookie bounded back and forth in the rear seat, antsy to be done with the ride, and I felt the same way. I tuned the radio to a news report that stated there’d been an accident but it had been cleared so traffic should begin to lighten. That meant it would lighten up by tomorrow long after I was done with this stretch of road. Next up was an update on the case of a teenage boy who’d taken his boat out fishing at Blackmans Lake. The boat had been discovered capsized yesterday but there was no sign of the boy. The sheriff’s office had been out since daylight and was using six divers but the lack of visibility in the murky water was a huge obstacle. They could only see less than two feet beneath its inky depths at most.
I did not make a specific plan to drive to Blackmans Lake. That part of the state was nearly an hour past my place so not exactly on the way. However, before I knew it I was on my way there.
I pulled up next to the sheriff’s vehicle on the stretch of the parking lot next to the boat ramp. I unloaded the bag that contained my rods and snapped a leash on Wookie.
“Sorry ma’am,” an officer said as I approached the boat launch. “We’re not allowing anyone near the lake today because—”
A Grave Search Page 14
