MORE THAN THE MOON

by A Rosendale

  Concern caused the smiled to slip from her lips. “Maybe I should come, too.”

  “Maybe, but we can’t get everybody together that quickly. Why don’t you and Cooper get things together tonight and come up tomorrow? I’ll leave now and see if I can’t calm her down.”

  “Okay. Thank you.” She pecked his cheek quickly before he hurried away.

  * * *

  “Ava?” Dirk called as he knocked on the door. The evening air was chilly this time of year. The weather had been much more pleasant when they visited three months ago.

  “Is that you, Dirk?” an unrecognizable voice replied. It was small and weak, the syllables cracked in distress.

  “Yes.”

  A series of locks clicked and the door opened to reveal an old, frail woman Dirk hardly recognized. Ava’s hair was all gray now and utterly disheveled. There were wrinkles in her face and hands he didn’t remember from their last visit and dark circles sagged under her eyes. He took her in his arms and steered her to the couch before she could collapse. It was clear she was beyond exhausted. Her sobs were more similar to Cooper’s tired temper tantrums than a grown woman’s.

  He eventually coaxed her into going upstairs and lying down. It was dark outside and he promised that he’d stay awake and keep an eye on things.

  “You’re safe now,” he promised, drawing a blanket over her.

  She was asleep before he left the room and tiptoed downstairs to the couch.

  * * *

  It was past midnight when Dirk’s senses tingled. He’d been reading a book by lamplight, but a soft noise outside made him set the novel aside. Silently, he rose from the couch, clicked the light off to disguise his movements and inched to the front window to gaze out the blinds. A human-shaped shadow crossed the yard and rounded the near corner of the house. Dirk waited a moment to check for further intruders before slipping through the living room and out the back door. He crossed to the wooden fence and waited for the shadow to come closer to the gate.

  An owl hooted in the night and the shadow froze by the wall. Without warning, it retreated, backing along the house and back down the front walk. Dirk vaulted the fence without a sound and crept after it. Once in the front yard, the shadow raced down the driveway and back towards the water. Dirk kept to the trees and gave chase.

  The moon illuminated the shoreline as the figure made for a rubber outboard pulled up on the smooth rocks. Dirk sprinted from concealment. He tackled the intruder to the ground, instantly restraining his hands in case any weapons lay hidden in the black clothes.

  “Who are you? What are you doing here?” Dirk demanded as the small man struggled against him.

  “Screw you!”

  Dirk struck him across the face. “Wrong answer. Who are you?”

  “None of your damned business!” He tried to kick Dirk off, but Dirk had expertly posed himself to avoid any blows.

  “What do you want with Ava?”

  The man spat at him and Dirk hit him again.

  “Why are you here?”

  Suddenly, his captive stopped struggling and stared over Dirk’s shoulder. His lips curled in the moonlight. At that moment, Dirk caught a whiff of smoke on the breeze. He turned to glance back toward the house. An orange glow emanated above the trees. The moment of distraction allowed the stranger to throw him off and land a kick to the ribs before shoving the inflatable away and jumping in to gun the motor. He was streaking away when Dirk gained his feet. But Dirk had no mind to go after him. He ran back to the house to find it in flames.

  “Ava!” he called. Reckless though it was, he darted in the back door. Fire enveloped the stairs. He started up them only for the top portion to disintegrate before he could reach the second floor. He stumbled outside, coughing violently, hoping to scramble up onto the porch roof and into Ava’s room. He was just reaching for the gutter when the house rumbled violently. A bombastic explosion threw him through the fence and into dense foliage.

  * * *

  “Sir? Sir!”

  Gentle shaking brought Dirk around. He moved to push the shadow above him away, but was instead enveloped in a wave of coughing that stole his breath and made his chest ache.

  “Are you alright?” a paramedic asked, helping him to sit up. The light of dawn and flickering embers in the distance made the patches on the man’s uniform obvious.

  Dirk brushed him away and used a tree trunk to stand. “Ava Decker is in that house,” he muttered gruffly.

  “Are you a relation?”

  “I’m her son-in-law. Is she alright?”

  The frown looked pitiful on such a young face. “I’m sorry, sir. Dr. Decker didn’t survive.”

  Dirk was at a loss for a moment. “How…how did the fire start?”

  “I don’t think the fire marshal has determined it yet.”

  “I’d like-” More coughs stole his breath and he leaned weakly against the cedar tree.

  “You should really come with me, sir. I can give you some oxygen. I think you took in quite a bit of smoke.” He judged the distance from the burning house. “And it looks like you were thrown-”

  “I’m fine,” Dirk insisted. “I need to see the fire marshal.”

  * * *

  “Alma, don’t come to Washington,” Dirk said when she answered the phone.

  “What? Why? We’re at the airport now.”

  His answer was interrupted by hacking.

  “Are you alright? What happened?” A cold dread dawned on her. “Oh God! My mom!”

  “There was a fire. The fire marshal says it was a natural gas leak.” He cleared his throat and refrained from filling in his suspicions. “She didn’t make it, Alma. I’m so sorry. There’s…there’s nothing left.”

  There was a long silence on the line interrupted only by Dirk’s cough.

  “Why don’t you head home? I’ll meet you there.”

  “Um, okay. I…”

  “I’m sorry, Alma. I’ll see you soon.”

  * * *

  “Dad?” Cooper called as the front door swung open.

  He ached painfully from the explosion and every smoke-filled hack made him dizzy. But he scooped his son into his arms and squeezed him tight.

  Alma appeared in the doorway to the dining room. Her face was drawn with grief as she moved towards him. Dirk set their son down and pulled her to his chest.

  “I’m so sorry,” he muttered in her ear.

  Cooper wrapped his arms around Dirk’s waist and they all hugged each other. The comforting embrace was interrupted by violent coughs.

  “I’ll get you some water,” Cooper offered.

  Dirk lowered himself gingerly onto the sofa.

  “What happened?” Alma asked quietly.

  Cooper’s reappearance cut off Dirk’s answer.

  “Grandma’s not coming, is she?” he asked as he passed a glass of ice water across the coffee table.

  “No, bud,” he answered quietly.

  Tears came to his young eyes, but he blinked them away with the reserve of a far older individual.

  “Come here.” Alma patted the couch between her and Dirk.

  “She’s in heaven with Grandpa?”

  They both nodded.

  “What happened? Was she in a boat crash, too?”

  “No.” Dirk struggled for words for a moment. “There was a fire. Grandma couldn’t get out.”

  “And you couldn’t get in?” the boy guessed.

  He shot him a look of surprise. “That’s right.” He reached for the jacket he’d discarded and extracted a Ziploc bag filled with gray ash. “It’s not much,” he apologized. “But…” Sudden emotion rose in his throat. ‘Ava, you deserved so much better,’ he thought as he stared at the ashes. “But I thought we could spread her ashes somewhere.”

  “At sea?” Cooper suggested instantly.

  Alma put an arm around his shoulders and forced a smile. “That sounds great, Coop. Grandma would like that.”

  “What about Pan?”

 
Alma looked to Dirk.

  “I couldn’t find Pan. I looked everywhere.”

  Cooper sniffled, but still refused to let tears fall. “I loved Pan.”

  “Me, too, buddy,” Dirk replied and kissed his head.

  * * *

  Every paddle stroke was an effort. Sore muscles healed slower than smoky lungs, Dirk found. Usually the lead kayak, he struggled to keep up with his wife and son as they surged through the breakers and out into open water.

  Once the waves calmed, the family gathered in a circle.

  “I’ll miss you, Grandma,” Cooper said sadly and Dirk extracted the plastic bag from his kayak.

  Alma looked as if she wanted to add something, but couldn’t.

  Dirk cleared his throat. “Ava, you were the best mother-in-law and friend a guy could ask for. I’ll think of you every time I have a cigar.”

  His words drew a brief smile from his wife. Carefully, he opened the bag and held it over the side of the kayak. After a moment’s hesitation, he sprinkled the ashes into the jade sea where they floated briefly on the surface before soaking up the saltwater and sinking.

  “Can we get a dog?” Cooper asked quietly when the ashes were gone.

  Chapter 50

  Text Message

  Cooper is spending the night at Graham’s. Meet you at the cove?

  Alma Decker

  Dirk tapped out a quick reply and wiped sweat from his forehead. He’d never imagined a domestic life and found menial tasks like mowing the lawn quite annoying. An evening on the water sounded far better than yard work.

  As he put the lawnmower in the shed, a little yellow fur ball bounced after him. He smiled at the puppy and ruffled his ears. He’d jumped at the chance to fulfill Cooper’s request. Less than a week after laying Ava’s ashes to rest, he’d come home with an energetic golden retriever puppy in his arms. In the two months since, the little dog had grown into a staple of their lives. Dirk enjoyed training him and Cooper was taking more responsibility than they’d imagined. When Bailey wasn’t with Dirk learning manners and tricks, he was playing with his boy. Alma laughed to herself every day. Although the puppy had been for Cooper, Bailey could be found cuddling in her and Dirk’s bed after their son was asleep. The bond between Dirk and the dog was uncannily similar to the one she’d seen him share with Pan.

  “Be good,” Dirk told the puppy as he passed him a bone to chew on while he was gone. It looked like Bailey gave him a dutiful nod as he took the treat and trotted back to the freshly mowed lawn.

  He arrived at the cove before Alma and decided to start out without her. He was almost seventy-five yards out when her car pulled onto the rocks next to the Jeep. Dirk was turning to paddle back and meet her when another car skidded to a halt, kicking up a cloud of dust that shrouded all the vehicles. When the dust settled, Dirk could see a man alighting from the strange car and walking toward Alma.

  Alma was turning to meet him when he threw a backhand that caught her off guard. She stumbled into the side of the Jeep. She ducked his next punch and heard his knuckles crunch against the steel wheel well.

  “Bitch!” the man howled in pain and reached for her.

  She dodged again, but he caught her jacket and yanked her back. Alma struggled free of the material and stumbled away toward the shore where Dirk was paddling frantically to reach her.

  “Stop!” the man shouted. The unmistakable bang of a gunshot made her halt and turn to face him. “Dr. Decker, your husband has done some very bad things,” the man growled. He stalked forward, pistol aimed at her stomach. When he was within arm’s reach, he grabbed her by the collar and stuffed the gun in a pocket.

  Alma nearly gagged at the man’s foul breath in her face. Her heart hammered in her ears so loudly that the surf twenty feet away was drowned out.

  “What do you want?” she demanded, drawing every ounce of confidence she could into her voice. She glared dangerously at the stranger.

  “Tell Mr. Travers,” he glanced over her shoulder at the steadily nearing kayak, “that the scourge is coming. Sins like his can never be absolved.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Have him tell you about Versailles. And don’t take ‘revenge’ as an answer.” He shot another look at Dirk’s approach before backhanding her again, this time sending her to the ground.

  By the time her vision cleared, the car was pulling away. Dirk arrived moments later to scoop her into his arms.

  “Are you alright?”

  She nodded against his chest as the taste of blood filled her mouth.

  “Who was that? What did he want?”

  Alma didn’t answer but pressed herself closer to him, begging the memory to dissolve in his presence. She could feel rage vibrating from within him and guessed he was about to abandon her to chase after the stranger. To stay his hand, she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him, afraid to let go. After a long stillness, the tension in his muscles ebbed slightly and he held her away from him to look over. He gently probed her fat lip, a mix of anger and remorse boiling in his gaze.

  “Can we just go home?” Alma asked.

  He nodded and turned to retrieve the kayak. But in his haste to get to her, he’d failed to draw it up on the beach and stray waves had washed it back into the cove. He glanced between the craft and his wife.

  “Go,” she said. “I’ll be okay. He’s gone.”

  Dirk ran back to the water and splashed in until the cold water was up to his waist and he could swim. The tide was coming in, which made the swim twice as difficult. By the time he grabbed the towline of the kayak he was freezing and exhausted. The effort eased some of the anger welling in his chest. The waves and tide served to wash him back to land.

  “Meet you at home,” he told Alma and followed on her bumper back to the house, where he hurried to escort her inside and lock the door. Bailey met them with a happy dance around their feet. Dirk spared only a quick pat and steered Alma to the kitchen table. He retrieved an icepack and pressed it to her lip before sitting across from her.

  “What did that bastard say to you?” he growled. Bailey’s excitement died instantly at the tone and he sat solemnly at Dirk’s side.

  Alma started to shake her head, but he gripped her hand tightly.

  “Tell me,” he demanded.

  “He…he said to ask you about Versailles. That’s where Christian died, isn’t it?”

  Dirk instantly let go and retreated across the table. He turned his gaze to the wood grains of the table. His irises darkened to the hue of the cove during a storm.

  “You don’t need to tell me,” she said after a moment. “I know you did what you had to. You don’t need to justify it to me.”

  His hands curled into fists and he stared at them as if they belonged to someone else.

  Alma hesitated before reaching across the table to brush her thumb over his smooth cheek. His tumultuous gaze met hers and he wondered not for the first time what she would think of him if she knew just how coldhearted he’d been in Versailles, killing a defenseless man in the chateau, let alone the brutality with which he’d stabbed Christian’s killer.

  “You don’t have to tell me,” she repeated. Her expression hardened and Dirk was startled at her next words. “I hope you killed the asshole who murdered Christian.”

  “Alma, I… I never wanted this for you. You shouldn’t know the horrors I’ve seen, that I’ve committed. If I’d have known at that coffeehouse the awful things I’d lead you into, I would have walked away.”

  “I wouldn’t have wanted that, Dirk. I’m glad I’ve been at your side, despite the terrible things you’ve seen and done. I trust you and I know you have a good heart.”

  He scoffed and looked back at his hands. “I don’t think you’d say that if-”

  “If I’d seen you charge back into my mother’s burning house to try to save her? Or how tenderly you carry our child to bed? Or how patient you are with the dog? Or how you’d bend over backwards for me and Cooper? No,
Dirk. There’s no way you can convince me you don’t have a good heart. Yes, I’m sure you’ve committed horrible deeds. I’ve been witness to a couple. But I know none of it has been without reason. I don’t care what happened in Versailles, as long as I have you to hold at night.”

  He took her hand from his cheek and kissed her fingers. “Please never think less of me,” he whispered.

  She held his eyes in all seriousness. “Never. You are and always have been my hero. That man today could never convince me otherwise.”

  ‘I hope so,’ Dirk thought to himself. ‘I could never live with her disappointment.’

  Chapter 51

  “This is the best Fourth of July ever!” Cooper exclaimed. He was lying back on the hard ground staring up at a beautiful blanket of stars above.

  Dirk was a few feet away. Even though his back protested the hard accommodations, he wouldn’t have moved from his son’s side for the best down mattress.

  “Your dad brought you here?” Cooper asked.

  “Yep. A long, long time ago.”

  “Cool,” he whispered. “I’ve never seen the stars like this.”

  Alma smiled at his reverent tone. She was stirring the embers of the fire twenty feet away. Certain they’d forgotten her presence, she lounged back in her camp chair to listen to father and son talk and share their view of the night sky. The moon was just peeking above the horizon.

  Dirk turned his head to follow his son’s gaze.

  “It’s so pretty,” Cooper muttered. “But…”

  Dirk waited for him to go on.

  “But it seems so…lonely. All the stars are so far away. The moon doesn’t have any company.”

  The boy seemed older than his years so much of the time, his small, wondering voice reminded Dirk that he was still just a boy.

  “You want to know a secret?” Dirk whispered.

  Alma strained to hear.

  “Yeah?”

  “Whenever I feel lonely, I try to find the moon.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I figure if I’m looking at the moon, someone else must be, too, right? And all of a sudden, I’m not alone. I’m sharing a moment with that other person.”