“Huh,” Miguel said, nonplussed.
Veronica mentally reviewed all the male names she’d heard recently in connection with Ariana—Thad Bayer, Wyatt Williams, Sam Adams the maintenance guy at the cemetery, Hector Santiago, Justin the clerk… but Gerry Wallace didn’t belong in that list. So what else could he be involved with?
It hit her.
“Simeon!” she cried.
Daniel and Miguel just blinked at her.
“Gerry Wallace is Simeon’s father,” she said. “Oh my god. That’s the connection. My visions are always connected! I knew it. You’ve met Simeon’s father, Miguel. And you’ve told me how to find him.”
“Simeon? That name’s familiar…” Miguel said.
“I’ve been getting visions from him, but he hasn’t even been born yet, and I needed to find his parents. I have to warn them, or something. I’m not even sure,” Veronica said. “But thank you, this is a huge help. Now I can at least find Gerry, once I’ve figured out what I’m going to say to him.”
“Glad to be of service,” Miguel said with a laugh.
Chapter 12
By the time Daniel and Veronica returned home, it was late afternoon on Friday. Veronica would have plenty of time to decide how to approach Gerry before going back out to Roseville to find him at the track. She was excited to finally have a lead in Simeon’s case, though she really wasn’t sure what she was going to say. “Excuse me, Gerry Wallace? I’ve seen your unborn son’s future and it’s not a pretty picture. Have you considered perhaps not getting into a career of cooking and dealing meth?”
More than anything she wanted to hash it out with Daniel, but she restrained herself. She’d call Melanie when she got home and talk to her about it. Let Daniel settle in, enjoy his fish, read a book, or whatever he wanted to do with what was left of his weekend.
“I have news!” Melanie said as Veronica held the cell to her ear and snapped Harry’s leash on his collar with her free hand.
“Okay, me too. But you go first,” Veronica said.
“Thad Bayer’s going to be in Sacramento.”
“What?” Veronica said. Harry was gazing up at her with adoration, his tailless bottom wagging so hard Veronica wasn’t sure she could get him out of the door. The cats were still sulking about her absence the night before, but all it took to make Harry happy was the prospect of a walk.
“He’s just come out with another book. You want to hear the title?” Melanie said.
“I’m not sure.”
“It’s True Americans. I can just imagine who qualifies for inclusion in that club.”
“Jeez,” Veronica said, and finally managed to lead Harry through the door and out to the sidewalk.
“Anyway, he’s all about promoting his book right now,” Melanie continued, “doing guest spots on the Tonight Show and The View and shows like that. And of course he plugs it every chance he gets on his own show.”
“…which you’re still watching?”
“It’s like a train wreck that never ends,” Melanie said. “I can’t look away.”
“I don’t think watching the Thad Bayer Show can possibly be good for your blood pressure, Mel.”
“Probably not. Anyway,” Melanie continued, “yesterday he announced he’s going to do a book signing at a special event in Sac.”
Harry snuffed at the front tire of a blue pick-up, the intensity of his focus suggesting that whatever he was smelling was of utmost importance. Veronica gazed at him, enjoying his enthusiasm.
“Ask me what the event is,” Melanie said.
“What’s the event?”
“It’s being hosted by the Sac Tea Party this Saturday. Get this, they’re calling it ‘Let’s Save Christmas,’” Melanie said. “I looked it up. There’s going to be a live nativity scene with real animals that kids can pet, various celebrities reading from the Bible—including Bayer, of course—Saint Patrick’s choir is going to be singing Christmas carols, they’re serving ‘Biblical foods’…”
“Sounds kind of interesting, actually.”
“Pfft. I guess. I mean, if all this stuff was being hosted by Saint Patrick’s School or Saint John’s Church or something, sure. But the Tea Party? I don’t think of politicians when I want spiritual guidance.”
Veronica unwound the leash from a street sign’s post and guided Harry around the corner, heading toward the trolley tracks. “True,” she said.
“Anyway, several of the celebs involved are pushing their own stuff there. Kirk Cameron’s producing a documentary about the war on Christianity in America, for one. He’s doing an advance screening of it in one of the side rooms of the Convention Center. Bayer’s reading from his book as well as the Bible, doing signings, and doing a talk entitled ‘True Americans Under Threat Today.’ Carrie Underwood’s going to be there for her new CD. It’s like a right-wing oppressed Christian Comicon, V.”
“Wow,” Veronica said.
“You could go. You could get Bayer to sign a book and try to get a reading off him—it might help with the Ariana stuff.”
“I don’t think I’ll need to,” Veronica said, and she filled Melanie in on everything they’d uncovered in Reno.
“Wow,” Melanie exclaimed. “That’s just… Do you think Daniel will arrest Thad Bayer at the Convention Center?”
“Daniel has to contact a detective in San Jose, since one of the victims is from there, so it’s probably not all going to happen that fast. Plus he thinks they’ll probably get the FBI involved. So no, I doubt any of them are going to move fast enough to arrest Bayer this Saturday.”
“I can’t wait to see it happen on the news.”
A man walking two West Highland white terriers approached from the other end of the block. Harry began making whining noises and pulling on his leash, eager to meet them.
“Yeah,” Veronica said. “That will be a trip.”
“How’s it feel to have it taken out of your hands, though?”
“Oh, it’s fine,” Veronica said. “It’s a relief, really. As long as the detectives handle it well and Bayer goes to prison, I’m thinking Ariana’s going to find peace. I mean, I still have to help Miguel with the deed, and there’s finding Ariana’s remains…”
“Ooh. What about that?”
Harry and the Westies began the rituals of doggy introduction, tangling each other’s leashes as they circled around each other in their attempts to get the best sniffs.
“I don’t know. I gave descriptions of the grave robbers to Daniel. I guess that’s out of my hands, too.”
“Maybe she’ll give you a clue as to where they’ve hidden her ashes and everything,” Melanie said.
“Well, she hasn’t given me any yet,” Veronica said, extricating Harry from the Westies’ leashes and pulling him along to leave them behind. “I guess I’ll do what I can if she does.”
“Yeah. So… was that your news? I mean, getting those photos and all?” Melanie asked.
“Oh, no,” Veronica said. “There’s more. There’s psychic stuff, and I need to tell you about Daniel, too.”
“What about him?”
Veronica stopped at the end of the block. If she turned right here she’d be back home in a few minutes, and she still had a lot to talk to Melanie about. She crossed the street instead, Harry panting happily beside her.
“I’ve been taking him for granted,” Veronica told Melanie.
“What? What are you talking about? Did he say something?”
Veronica described his joke about getting hitched, his remark to Miguel about her gift not being easy to live with, and the subsequent argument in their hotel room.
“Oh, V, I really think he’s telling you the truth. Daniel loves you. He doesn’t think of you as high maintenance at all.”
“Then why would he say those things?” Veronica said. “I mean, I agree in a way. Daniel doesn’t believe I’m high maintenance, not consciously. But the truth is, being my boyfriend isn’t easy, and it means he doesn’t ever really get a break from
being a cop. He never gets a break from all the death he sees at work because when he comes home, I’m waking him up at two AM to process a nightmare someone dead sent me.”
“Yeah, but that’s what you do when you have a life partner,” Melanie said. “You lean on them, and they lean on you, and you share stuff that’s hard for you to bear alone, and they share stuff too, and together you manage to carry it all.”
Melanie’s voice was wistful. Veronica bit her lip and mentally kicked herself. “I know how lucky I am,” she said gently. “I really do, Mel. But that’s why I want to be careful. I don’t want to lean too hard on him, you know? Because I don’t want to do anything that might ruin things with us sooner or later.”
“Oh, V, you won’t,” Melanie said. “Daniel knows exactly who he’s dealing with and what you’re all about. As long as you two are honest with each other about what you need, you’ll be fine.”
Veronica sighed. “Anyway, Mel, I need your advice about something else.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Harry snuffed a noseful of dirt and sneezed four times in a row, each time coming closer to knocking his muzzle against the sidewalk.
“Yeah,” Veronica said, relieved when he stopped without injuring himself. “Do you remember what I told you about Simeon?”
“Hmm,” Melanie said. “Oh, I think I do. You had a vision about him when we went to the clinic. I remember, because of the name. Simeon Sunrise, right? Because his parents decided not to abort him when they went camping and were watching the sunrise in San Simeon.”
“It was ‘Sunset,’ but yeah.” Veronica filled Melanie in on the other visions she’d had from Simeon.
“Oh, god,” Melanie said after Veronica finished talking about Simeon finding his father’s body. “How awful. That poor kid.”
“Yeah. Well, up until today I didn’t know what I was supposed to do about it. I didn’t have any idea where to find Gerry Wallace or Simeon’s mom, Liz. But then I was looking at a painting in Miguel’s gallery. I’d been feeling really drawn to it, and I didn’t know why. Miguel told me about the person in the painting—it’s a painting of a track runner. Turns out, the track runner is Gerry Wallace.”
“No way.”
“And at least last year he would go running at this same track near Miguel’s house three afternoons a week. If he’s still keeping the same habits, he’ll be there later today.”
“So you could go and meet him!”
“Exactly.”
A brown dog of an indistinct breed came running up to the fence around its front yard as Veronica and Harry walked by. The dog gave occasional barks but wagged its tail the whole time, and Harry pulled Veronica over to say hello.
“So I have to figure out what I’m going to say to him,” Veronica said.
“Ah,” Melanie said. “I see the problem. What do you say to someone you’ve foreseen the death of?”
“The suicide of,” Veronica said. “I mean, it’s a pretty delicate subject.”
“Yeah. That’s a tough one.”
“What do I say to him, Mel? Simeon obviously wants me to do something, to keep him from having to live the future he’s shown me. And you saw Liz. She’s big pregnant. There’s no stopping his birth at this point. So what am I trying to convince Gerry of? Not to kill himself in twelve or thirteen years? Not to start dealing meth? I mean, how do you talk to someone about this stuff?”
Melanie exhaled audibly. “Man. I don’t know, V. I don’t see either of those conversations going well.”
“I know. Do I try to talk to him into giving up his child? He and Liz are full of hope right now. They’ll never want to listen to me tell them things are going to go bad.”
Harry and the brown dog were both wagging their tails at each other, but the fence wasn’t going anywhere so Veronica tugged on the leash and she and Harry moved on.
“I think,” Melanie said slowly, “that you shouldn’t try to warn him about any of the bad stuff.”
“I shouldn’t? You think I shouldn’t go meet him at all?”
“No, go meet him,” Melanie said, her voice pensive. “But make it look unplanned. Strike up a conversation—you could pretend to recognize him from Miguel’s painting.”
“Okay… but why?”
“Because if you manage to befriend him—and I think you’ll have to make up an excuse to walk by there a few times a week for some time for this to work—if you can become his friend, you’ll be in Simeon’s life. You can intervene at the first sign of trouble.”
“I see,” Veronica said, considering this. “It’s like a long con.”
“Well not a con,” Melanie protested. “Not really.”
“In a way,” Veronica said. “Faking a chance meeting, making friends with someone with the intention of doing something to screw them over down the line…”
“Screw them over?”
“Well, what would you call notifying CPS so they’ll lose their kids?”
“Under the circumstances, I’d call it the right thing to do.”
Veronica turned the corner of the block with Harry, heading toward home. She blew air out of her mouth. “I know you’re right, Mel, it just feels dishonest.”
“Maybe becoming friends with you will be enough to change Gerry’s future. Maybe somehow you’ll hook him up with a good job one day—maybe he’ll never feel like he has to get into dealing drugs and you won’t have to call CPS because things will never go bad.”
Veronica considered this. “Yeah,” she said after a moment. “Yeah. You might be on to something there. I could definitely see trying to keep a friend from making some bad decisions down the line. Maybe I can find someone who’ll hire Gerry or Liz or both of them—who knows? I’d much rather do that than just wait for them to start messing up so I can get CPS to take Simeon away. Simeon and any siblings, because from what I can tell things go bad a half a dozen years from now.”
“Which gives you plenty of time to become friends with Gerry, and hopefully Liz, too, and to work on making sure their lives don’t go sour.”
Veronica nodded. “Mel, you’re a genius.”
“I would claim to be getting tired of hearing that, but I’d be lying.”
“Thank you, you’ve really helped me.”
“Good. Call me when you get done meeting Gerry. I want to know how it goes.”
~~~
Back at home, the house was empty. Daniel left a note that said he wanted to go by his uncle’s pet store to check out some new fish. Veronica decided to try to bribe the cats to forgive her for her absence by offering treats. “Here, Binks,” she said, crinkling the bag as loudly as she could. “Here, Bloss.”
It looked for a moment like neither of the cats would surface, but another couple of bag crinkles finally got to be too much for Binky, who appeared in the doorway to the living room from the hallway that led to the bedrooms. The Birman stared at Veronica accusingly but made his way slowly toward her.
“Hey, Binky boy,” Veronica said. “I know you’re mad. Here. These are new. The bag says ‘tender chicken flavor.’ You know you love chicken.”
Veronica held three little treats in her palm, crouching down to Binky’s level. He stopped and eyed her.
“Well, you really are mad. Okay, how about a peace offering?” she said, setting the treats on the floor a foot in front of her. Binky padded over quickly and gobbled them up. By the third treat Veronica risked stroking him. He’d obviously decided to let his resentment go, because he arched his back under her hand in enjoyment, and when he was done swallowing, he looked up at her and meowed.
“I missed you, too, buddy,” she said. Purring, Binky rubbed against Veronica’s legs. She knew he was hoping for more treats, so she obliged him with two more.
“I guess it’s going to take Blossom a little longer to forgive me,” Veronica said to Binky. “Tell her about the treats, okay?”
Five seemed like a good time to shoot for getting to the track in Roseville, which meant Veronica had an
hour to kill. She always had plenty of grading, so she settled on the couch and got to work. Before fifteen minutes had passed, Blossom appeared and curled up next to Veronica for a nap. All was right with the world again.
Traffic slowed Veronica down more than she anticipated, and in the end she got to Roseville at five twenty. Before she left she did an internet search and looked at what was around the area that might serve as an excuse for being in the area on a regular basis. In the end she settled on saying she was taking a class—the track was part of Sierra Community College. The main campus was in Rocklin, further north, but the Roseville campus had a lot of typical classes, as well as housing the Learning Annex, which offered all sorts of nonacademic courses. Veronica browsed the Learning Annex’s website and decided to pretend she was taking a course in crochet and knitting that met from three to four-thirty on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. With luck, Gerry wouldn’t know much about knitting and she wouldn’t have to lie much to make it seem like she was really going. The fact that the course had started a month before was a bit awkward, but if pressed she could claim she used to park on a different side of campus and had to change spots because someone had started taking her old spot. Parking Lot 2 was just north of the track, so she would make her way from some point south of the track in order to “get back to her car.”
As she drove Veronica considered what details might be most important. She decided she would have to buy an actual parking permit so she could park in lot 2. It would be practical if she was going to come up three times a week, and if Gerry ever decided to walk her to her car, it would keep her story from falling apart.
She’d have to buy some yarn and needles, she realized. She wondered whether she’d need them today. Probably not. She could stuff a sweater in her purse and pretend that was her knitting project. As long as he didn’t ask to see her work in progress he ought to believe her, she hoped.
Other than the pretext of the class, she wouldn’t lie about anything. She would really try to become Gerry’s friend, and she hoped he would introduce her to Liz, eventually, so she could befriend her as well. As a result, she’d tell them both her real name, where she worked, all about Daniel, and even that she was psychic. After all, the day might come when she needed them to know about her visions. Better to lay the groundwork as early as possible.
The Gamble and the Grave (Veronica Barry Book 4) Page 22
