Shadows 04 Canyon Shadows

by K C West

  “No, that won’t be necessary. It’s more important that she rest. To be honest, I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Oh. Okay then, I’ll just be a minute.” When I returned, he was standing and staring at the painting I’d just replaced on the wall.

  He took his beverage and gulped about half of it. “I’m glad you got your stolen items back.”

  “I am too. Especially that.”

  “It’s Pedernal, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “Yes. The mountain’s a very familiar landmark in these parts.”

  “But, it isn’t just that. I think I’ve seen that painting before.”

  We walked over to the sofa and recliners that made a half-circle in front of the fireplace. I sat on the sofa, easing my sore back against a cushion, and he managed to sit on Kim’s favorite recliner without actually reclining it. A headache was about to require medication, but I resolved to be as civil as possible. “You probably have,” I said, glancing up at the picture. “It’s an O’Keeffe.”

  “Of course, I’m quite familiar with her work. I should have known. The museum has lots of her pictures and the galleries in Santa Fe are loaded with prints. I must have seen it there.”

  “You may have seen the prints, but you wouldn’t have seen that painting in the museum.”

  “No?”

  “It’s an original.”

  “No shit? An original Georgia O’Keeffe?”

  “Uh-huh. It belonged to my mother. I inherited it when she died.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “It was a long time ago.” I rubbed my forehead, trying to ease the throbbing.

  “I guess that explains all the zeroes in the stolen property report on that item. I thought it was a typo.”

  “The last time it was appraised, I believe its value was two hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Amazing.” Nelson drained his glass and set it on the table next to him, wiping his hands on his pant legs.

  “I don’t mean to be rude,” I said, “but it’s been a long day, and I’m sure you didn’t come here to talk about paintings.”

  “You’re right.” He cleared his throat. “Now that your… urn…”

  “I believe ‘partner’ is the word you’re fishing for.”

  “Yes. Now that your partner is safely home and on the mend, I want to explain why I behaved the way I did.”

  “That’s really not necessary, Detective. I know you don’t approve of the way Kim and I live our lives and that it makes you uncomfortable.”

  “True. But there’s more to it than that. When Gina and I first caught this case, I was going through a pretty bad time in my personal life.”

  “It wasn’t such a great time in my life either.”

  His hands came up in a gesture of surrender. “You’re right. I’m sorry. This is coming out all wrong.”

  I shook my head and tugged on a strand of hair behind my ear. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m tired and overly defensive. You have something to say, and I keep giving you a hard time. Go ahead. Call us deviants, pronounce us doomed for eternity, and be on your way.”

  “That wasn’t my plan.” He stood up and paced behind the chair. His usual confidence was absent, replaced by uncertainty.

  I felt like a bully. Hadn’t I merely voiced his feelings about us?

  “For the past three months, I’ve been trying to get over a messy divorce. The decree was final, but the memory will haunt me for a long time.”

  “I see. That seems to be a problem with police marriages. I’ve heard a lot of them end in divorce because of the long hours and stress.”

  “My marriage may have suffered from those things, but infidelity caused the breakup.” He stood at the back of Kim’s recliner, keeping it between us, and now he gripped the top as if to support himself. “Diane, my ex-wife, found another person to love. A woman. I just didn’t know how to handle that.”

  Neither did I, so I kept silent.

  “I was getting used to being single again, when we got this case. The first time I saw you, I thought you were so hot.”

  “Me?” I guess my shocked expression was so evident that he needed to elaborate.

  “The blonde hair, the foxy body. You’re one good-looking woman. I knew you were rich, single, and I thought you were available. It wasn’t hard to be attracted to you.”

  “Then you discovered I was one of them.” I gave him a brief smile.

  “Yeah, and that was something I couldn’t deal with.” He looked down and brushed his fingertips along the top of the chair. “I was embarrassed to have felt anything toward you, and it brought back the whole painful thing with Diane.”

  I stood and moved closer to him. Why did he feel the need to share all this with me? I liked him better as a surly creep. He was more sympathetic now. Human even.

  “Detective Nelson - ”

  He raised his head, looking directly at me. “Please, call me Mark, okay? Now that I’ve dumped the whole story of my miserable life on you.”

  “All right, Mark. Then you call me PJ. It’s what my friends call me, and I suddenly find you very human, if not completely likable.”

  We shook hands as if we were starting fresh.

  “Gina said I’d feel better if I explained why I was such an ass. I do.” His grin made him look almost boyish. “I guess I’ll never understand why you… uh…. But maybe I’ll be less critical in the future. Before the Diane thing, I never thought much one way or another about being straight or gay. It was live and let live, you know. Maybe now I can get back to that, and this case can end on a positive note.”

  “That would be a good start.”

  “Right.” He checked his watch. “I’d better get going.”

  I walked him to the door. “Good-bye, Mark.” We shook hands again. “Please don’t take this personally, but I hope I never need to see you or Gina again on a professional level.”

  He got my attempt at humor. “I understand. And I hope I don’t see you or Ms. Blair in that capacity, either. Take care of yourself, PJ.”

  “You, too.” I closed the door and leaned my head against it.

  Foxy body, huh? Sometimes life can be so damn weird.

  Chapter 27

  Three weeks had passed. My strength returned gradually, though I still tired easily and, for the most part, I was confined to the wheelchair while my body healed. PJ must have been exhausted, but she wouldn’t admit it. Whenever I awakened after sleeping fitfully, she’d be there beside me, asking if I needed anything or if she could do anything for me. I knew she was tiring herself out and that bothered me. For the first week or so after coming home from the hospital, I had to have assistance just to walk to the bathroom. I needed someone to be there with me when I showered.

  “I can see you’re making the most of this,” PJ said one day, stepping into the shower with me.

  “If you think I’m enjoying this, then you should walk in my shoes.” My tone was deliberately nasty, and I knew the time had come to act on my plan.

  Her eyes registered the shock of my rebuke. “Sorry, I just meant - ”

  “I know what you meant. Now leave me alone before you smother me completely.”

  She had placed her hand on my arm, but I shook it off. “Send Little Bird in to help me get dressed. It’s sickening, the way you fawn over me.”

  “I only want to help.”

  “I don’t need that. I don’t need you.” My gut wrenched when I saw the hurt in her eyes. She raised her hands in resignation, gathered her clothing, and walked away from me.

  I had to do this. I knew now what it was like to be an invalid, and though I’d probably recover from my present injuries, it was a view into the future. What would happen when I reached my seventies or eighties? PJ would be in her fifties or sixties, still an active woman with many years ahead of her. I didn’t want her to be a nursemaid for an old has-been archaeologist, and a killer to boot. She deserved better.

  *

  I paced a
cross the guest room floor. It was the room Dad and Sue used while they stayed with me at the ranch. When Kim came home, they returned to Boston before heading back to Lesvos, and I never expected to need this room again for any purpose. Right now, it seemed like a good place to cool off. I had to regroup and calm myself before I lost my temper. Caring for Kim wasn’t easy. I could see that she hated being hurt and being dependent, but sometimes I bore the brunt of her frustration and that hurt me. A lot.

  I sat on the bed, thinking. I didn’t blame Kim. I knew it was all Terry’s fault. She’d tortured Kim, filled her mind with all sorts of verbal abuse, and threatened to kill us both. She’d ultimately forced Kim to fire the gun. Terry was the reason Kim was so upset and speaking so irrationally. I had be patient enough to hold us together until Kim’s body and mind healed. It wouldn’t be easy, but I had to do it, for both of us.

  The wounds on my neck had formed small rough scabs. I picked at one while I sat thinking. The sadistic collar had been so cruel and inhumane. I’d probably have permanent reminders on my back and neck from the frightening events in the kiva. Kim had an incision across her abdomen that she’d have to live with when it healed, but the physical scars were the least of my worries. “Damn you, Terry Simms. I hope you burn in hell for what you’ve done to us.”

  I took my flute to the back porch and sat cross-legged on the swing, my back against a soft, fluffy pillow. When Kim had been moved to a private room in the hospital and was feeling stronger, she’d asked Little Bird and Jasper to get the flute out of the desk drawer and bring it to her without my knowledge.

  That night, when I came to visit, she had all the lights turned off in her room. The box was on a tray on her lap with the card, a cupcake with one lighted candle, and two plastic cups filled with apple juice.

  I took one look and started to cry.

  “I know you already found this, and I wish the juice could be champagne or at least beer, but belated Happy Birthday.”

  Smiling through my tears, I blew out the candle, moved the whole tray to a chair and crawled into bed with her. “Thank you, honey. It’s perfect.”

  And I kissed her until she was breathless, which sadly, due to her condition, didn’t take long.

  While she continued her recovery, I’d practiced, first with lessons from the Pueblo teachers and then on my own. I could play two tunes completely and bits of three others. All five were sad love songs, however.

  Now I picked the most cheerful of the lot and started playing, remembering to control my breathing and hold each note fully before beginning the next.

  For a while the music calmed me, taking all my powers of concentration to focus on my technique. Then, as I continued, the hauntingly clear sounds pierced my emotional resolve, and the sorrowful refrain penetrated to the depths of my soul. Tears spilled down my cheeks. I tried several times to keep going, but each time my throat tightened and the sadness of our predicament overwhelmed me. Defeated, I dropped the flute, buried my head in my arms, and cried.

  I’d been cruel, but I had to be. There was no kind way to push PJ away. It was for her own good, but when I saw the pain in her eyes, it was like a dagger in my heart. How could I do this to the woman I love? Was I no better than Terry? I got up from my chair, closed the blinds, darkening the room to fit my gloomy mood, and lay down on the bed.

  I dozed, but was awakened by a soft melancholy sound. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and listened before easing myself upright and cracking the blind. PJ was sitting on the swing, playing the flute I had given her for her birthday. Well, I hadn’t really given it to her then. We were both in the hospital on her birthday. I’d made up for it though. She’d been so surprised and I’d loved seeing the joy on her face when I finally gave her the flute. She’d wanted one, and I’d taken great satisfaction in having it made especially for her. I think she’d gained some measure of solace in learning to play it.

  The music stopped and restarted. She tried three times, but couldn’t finish. I saw her lay the flute down and bury her head in her arms. It tore me apart to see her weeping like that, but as much as I wanted to go to her, I couldn’t. I dared not lose my resolve to free her of me, and the sooner the better.

  PJ was hurting, but she was young and would get over it. Better she suffer a little now than spend the rest of her life tied down with an invalid and a murderer who would bring her nothing but heartache.

  I closed the blinds once more and lay back on the bed, crying until there were no more tears to shed.

  *

  “Does the sun feel good?” PJ asked as she joined me on the verandah. I hadn’t been out of my room in two days and she went overboard with her smiles and perky attitude.

  I nodded, not looking at her.

  “You need to get some color back in your cheeks.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Hey, I know. Let’s take the Rover and drive up to our favorite picnic spot. I think it would do us both some good. I’ll fix roast beef sandwiches with that relish you like.”

  “You go. I prefer to be alone.”

  She stopped smiling and took a long shaky breath. “I know this thing about Terry rocked you, but you’ve got to realize that it wasn’t your fault. You had no choice. It was kill or be killed. You saved our lives.”

  “You didn’t pull the trigger.”

  “I know that.”

  “That’s not what’s bothering me now. You are.”

  PJ flinched. “What?”

  The shock in her voice nearly broke through my resolve, but I used my pent up frustration and anger to keep going. “Why don’t you just leave me alone? I don’t need you to take care of me. And while we’re on the subject, I’d like you to move into the other bedroom.”

  Her eyes widened. “Isn’t that a little drastic? I know you haven’t felt up to being intimate with me lately, but after what you’ve been through - ”

  “Fucking you, or not fucking you, isn’t the point.”

  All the color drained from her face. She reacted as if I’d slapped her.

  Speaking to her like this was agony for me, but it was necessary. It was now or never. “I’ve changed my mind. I want you out of here. Understand? Not just out of my bedroom, but off this ranch, and out of my life.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I thought I made it very clear.”

  Tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks. “I thought that now, more than ever, you needed me to take care of you.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  Her chest heaved. “And I love you. I can’t just flip a switch and turn that off.”

  “I can live without love, and Little Bird and Jasper are here for whatever care I may need.”

  PJ stared at me for several seconds, absorbing what I’d said. Her eyes narrowed and her face flushed. “If that’s what you really want. I certainly don’t want to stay with someone who takes our love and trashes it at the first sign of trouble.” She looked away, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her checkered shirt. “Funny. I thought what we had together was stronger than that.” Her lower lip trembled. “Jesus, did you ever fool me.”

  She turned and ran into the house, slamming the screen door behind her. I fought back tears and the urge to go after her.

  I didn’t dare move and risk encountering PJ inside, so I remained on the verandah. In a short time, she emerged with a suitcase, a duffle, and her laptop. “I’m taking these,” she said, looking anywhere but at me. “I’ll come back later for the rest of my stuff. And as soon as I’m settled, I’ll pick up Jackie and Cleo. I can’t depend on your loving the kitties forever, or even Pup for that matter. So, if you decide to give up on his love, I’ll take him, too.”

  Chapter 28

  “Priscilla, honey, what’s wrong? You’ve talked about the weather, the museum opening, and Sandy’s wedding date, but I haven’t heard you mention Kim or the ranch, or those animals of yours. What’s up?”

  I gripped the receiver and leaned back against the motel
’s imitation wood headboard, picturing Dad’s expression when I delivered the news. “You’re right, something’s very wrong.” My voice cracked and I swallowed rapidly to force out the words. “Kim kicked me out.”

  “What! You’re kidding. That’s impossible. Wait a minute. Let me get Sue on the line.”

  I chewed on my lower lip and dabbed the comers of my eyes.

  “Hi, sweetie, what’s going on?”

  “I was just telling Dad that Kim has decided I don’t belong in her life any more.”

  There was a long pause. “Oh, I see.”

  “You don’t sound very shocked. Am I the last one to know about this?”

  “No, no, nothing like that.” She flipped into therapist mode. “It’s just that when two people, even two who have a deep and lasting love, share a trauma like you have, repercussions can result, some of them bad, even life-changing. I tried to counsel Kim when she was in the hospital, but she tuned me out. At the time, I blamed her incoherent ramblings on the pain medications.”

  “I know what you mean. Since she came home from the hospital, she’s often acted like a total stranger with me. I tried to be patient because I knew she was injured, but she told me in no uncertain terms to get out. I had no choice but to pack my bags. I’m really worried. I don’t know what’s going on with her.”

  “Do you want us to come back to New Mexico, princess? I’m sure Sandy can handle the business end of the Lesvos project for a while.” My father had been silent while Sue and I were talking, but he’d quickly shifted into fix-the-problem mode.

  “Thanks, Dad, but you and Sue have already lost so much time by staying with me while Kim was missing. I think you should go ahead with your plans. Sandy needs your business acumen. And the opening of the museum is set to coincide with their wedding. Kim and I planned to attend, and I hope we still can - separately, if not together. It’s going to be hard for both of us now. I worry about her being on her own so much. I’m thinking of asking a friend for some help. Until I’m sure Kim is going to be okay, I really don’t want to leave the area.”