Still the distraction of the dogs and the cleaning was a good antidote to stewing over her annoyance with Brad, who still had yet to call back. Or stewing over the single, barely-a-kiss kiss she had laid on Dash. And so she was grateful when Chen called and invited her to meet him for dinner in Stockbridge, a town about twenty minutes away. She really didn’t want to think about much of anything that had happened that day and he was the perfect answer to that. Talking about China would help her disappear into her book, into a world that was interesting and engaging, but not hers.
On the drive to meet Chen, Vivi called and told Matty that her cousins, Naomi and Brian, had figured out that the bumps on the racing form were braille and composed a ten-digit number. Vivi had run it against a phone number database, but it hadn’t turned out to be a legitimate one, and other than that, she had no idea what the series of numbers could mean. Matty, not recognizing the numbers either, asked Vivi to text them to her so she could check them out later, when she got home.
“Are you going out to dinner with Dash again?” Vivi half-teased when their conversation about the mysterious numbers had ended.
“Not even close.” And Matty filled Vivi in on her day including her rationale for going to dinner with Chen even though she was feeling a bit wrung out from the past few days.
“Distraction isn’t a bad thing, but I’m surprised he didn’t pick you up. Why are you driving?” Vivi asked.
“He has tickets to a show at Tanglewood later. He’s going with his sister and invited me, but I don’t want to be out that late, so we’re having dinner first and then he’s going to the show. I, on the other hand, will be coming home, taking a bath, and having a gin and tonic before hitting the sack.”
“Sounds like an exciting night. Then again, after the last few days you’ve had, it sounds just about right.”
“Amen to that,” Matty responded. “Look, I’m just pulling up to the restaurant, but will you keep looking into the numbers for me? I’ll think about it too, but if you can spare the time, I’d appreciate it. It’s probably nothing, but it’s just, well . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“Just one of those curiosities?” Vivi finished. “Of course I will. Ian and I are having dinner with his parents tonight, but I’ll look tomorrow. My cousins, Naomi and Brian—who could probably figure this out in a flash—are mid-flight right now, so unfortunately I can’t get their help right away. But, I’ll send them an e-mail tonight so they’ll have it when they can access their accounts. It may be nothing, but I agree it’s definitely curious.”
They said good-bye and as she hung up Matty saw Chen approaching her car with a tall attractive woman at his side. He wasn’t in a suit this evening; instead, he wore khaki shorts and a button-down shirt with rolled-up sleeves. He looked casual and sophisticated. Like he would fit right into her city life.
Like he wouldn’t have a clue what to do with chickens. Or cows.
She sighed to herself as he opened her car door then she smiled. “Chen, how nice to see you. Thank you for calling me tonight and I’m so delighted to meet your sister.”
***
By the time Matty returned to Brad’s, her brain hurt. She had a feeling Chen wouldn’t be inviting her out to dinner again, but that was fine with her. She sensed he’d viewed the evening as a quasi-date, despite the presence of his sister, Mai, while Matty had very clearly treated it as an extension of their interview and information exchange of the other day. And with Mai there, it was two for the price of one as his sister, though not the family scholar, was no slouch herself when it came to Chinese political history.
So, on the one hand, she had pages of notes filled with new material—so many that she hadn’t even had a chance to let it all soak in yet—but on the other hand, she was exhausted and doubted Chen would be all that keen on spending time with her again should she have any lingering questions.
Even so, he’d been a perfect gentleman, asking after her, knowing what had happened with the body landing in her truck and all; word traveled fast in the small towns of the Hudson Valley when things like that happened. And both he and Mai were even more concerned when she told them about what had happened with Bob. Chen said all the right things and made all the right comments, but in the end, she was glad to be home. Alone. With four dogs, six cows, four cats, six chickens, and two rabbits.
She was lying in a hot bath with a washcloth over her eyes when her phone rang. Hoping it was Brad, she grabbed it and answered, letting the annoyance she felt come through in her voice.
“Hello?”
“And it’s nice to hear your voice, too,” came Dash’s response.
She let out a little groan.
“And that sounds even better.”
“Hi, Dash,” she said.
“Hello, Matty. How is your arm?”
“It’s fine. Dr. Sanger cleaned it up, gave me a shot, and said she’d talk to you after Bob’s blood work comes back to see if she thought I needed anything else.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Not now it doesn’t. Now that it’s elevated on the side of the bathtub.”
There was a moment of silence. “You’re in the bath.”
A man’s mind could switch tracks faster than the speed of light when nudity was involved. “Yep, naked as the day I was born. And when I’m done, I’m going to dry off and slip into bed that same way,” she said. The “too bad you’re so indecisive or you could be here with me” was left unsaid, if not unheard.
“You’re not very happy with me, are you?” he half asked.
She sighed. “I’m tired, Dash. I think I just crammed a semester-long Chinese politics course into a dinner that was just under two hours. My head hurts and you confuse me so, no, I’m not that happy with you.”
After a long moment she heard a very male chuckle on the other end of the line. “But you wish I were there, don’t you?” he pointed out.
He was right, she did. “Good night, Dash.”
“Good night, Matty. And take care of that arm.”
She hung up the phone and sank her head under the cool water. She wanted this day to be over. She really did.
***
Matty perused the myriad of birdhouses hanging along a wall in the gift shop across from Frank’s. Having come to some sort of understanding with Frank—he supplied her with iced mochas but preferred she not order them aloud—she was able to examine the merchandise with her iced drink of choice in hand. She had thought to get a simple thank you card for Brad’s neighbor, for all the help Elise had given her the day before with Bob, but when she saw the whimsical birdhouses, she changed course and looked for the perfect one.
She selected a hot pink one that complemented Elise’s mailbox and had it wrapped up. After that, all she wanted to do was pick up Bob, head home, and get back to writing. But she’d been in town a few days and hadn’t yet stopped at either bookstore—which, in her mind, was too large a sacrilege to ignore. So, reining in her eagerness to see Bob, she popped into the used bookstore first, browsed the packed and somewhat disorderly shelves, and chatted for a few minutes with the clerk, an older woman with a penchant for religious books. Walking out with an old coffee table book of pictures of China under her arm, she crossed the street to the new, much more orderly bookstore. There she introduced herself to the owners, a nice couple in their mid-forties, who turned out to be big fans of hers, insisting that if she had the time she allow them to set up a signing for her. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, but meeting her readers had a way of helping the adrenalin kick in. And leaving the store, she felt a good writing streak coming on.
Still smiling from her bookstore visits, she called the vet clinic when she returned to her car. Susan told her that Dash wasn’t around, but Bob would be ready to be picked up in thirty minutes. Remembering that there was a burger and soft-serve ice cream stand at the gas station across from the clinic, Matty finished her mocha as she drove and debated with herself about whether to get a cone or milksha
ke. Indulgence is what it was, but it was that kind of morning.
Despite all the options, she went old school and ordered a chocolate soft-serve cone. As she waited for the woman in the stand to call her name, Marcus and Carly pulled up.
“We saw you as we were driving by and thought we’d stop to ask how you were doing,” Marcus said, joining her under the canopy.
“I’ll be better once I have my ice cream. Can I get you two anything?” Matty asked. They both shook their heads. “I don’t really need one either, but I’m waiting to pick up one of the dogs at Dash’s clinic.”
“Something happen?” Carly asked.
Matty nodded and told them what had happed to Bob. “It’s been a packed few days, too packed if you ask me. Especially when all I want to do is stay home and write. I’m close to finishing,” she added.
“After everything that’s happened, that sounds like a good plan,” Marcus responded. “How much longer do you have to wait before you can pick him up?”
“He’ll be ready in five minutes.” Dash’s voice came from behind Matty.
She spun and faced him. “Where did you come from?”
He gave her a funny look. “My clinic. I’m headed out for a call. I just stopped for gas and saw you all.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Susan said you weren’t at the clinic.”
“I think we’ll be going now,” Carly said, motioning to her partner with her head. Matty thanked them for checking on her and said her good-byes.
“To be clear, Susan tells everyone I’m not available unless I specifically tell her I am. But in this case, she was probably accurate. I was out back restocking supplies. You probably called then.”
She eyed him for a moment, then realized she didn’t really care all that much if Susan had told the truth or not. It would actually have been easier for her not to see Dash today.
“Matty?” he asked.
Her mind must have wandered because he was looking at her, a small frown touching his lips.
“They’re calling your name,” he pointed out.
She gave herself an internal shake and went over to pick up her ice cream. Just taking a bite seemed to make the day a little better.
“You need to get some sleep,” Dash said, surprising her by taking her chin in his fingers and tilting her head up to look at him. “You look exhausted. Great, as always, but exhausted,” he added with a quick save.
“I missed Bob last night,” she said.
He eyed her. “What’s bothering you?”
“It’s just been a long few days, Dash,” she said, not wanting to rehash everything.
He inclined his head. “Well, Bob will be ready by now. You should go home and maybe the two of you can take a little rest together.”
She didn’t fight the small smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. It wasn’t every guy who would suggest she cuddle up with a dog and take a nap.
“Yeah, maybe,” she said.
“Why don’t we go back to the clinic and I’ll help you get him into your car. That way you don’t have to worry about what to do with your ice cream.”
And then she did laugh. “Thanks, Dash. I would appreciate that.”
***
Matty woke with a start and bolted upright. She paused and blinked, letting the hazy daytime sleep clear from her head. Next to her, Bob raised his head and looked at her, as did Isis who was sleeping in her usual spot in the corner of the room on her dog bed. The other dogs were scattered around the house and, judging by the silence, sleeping, too.
She took a few deep breaths trying to recall what had woken her so suddenly. Fragments of thoughts floated in and out of her mind but nothing took hold. She glanced out the window then down at her clock. The late-afternoon sun was muted and a stream of light shone through the back window of the bedroom.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, her eyes caught on the book she’d left on the bedside table. A book. She stared at it for a long moment, before picking it up and opening the cover. And then it clicked.
Thumbing through the first few pages, she found the copyright notice and below it, the ISBN number. Ten digits.
Putting the book down, she climbed out of bed in her t-shirt, tugged on a pair of yoga pants, jogged downstairs, and booted up her computer. Pulling up a search engine, she plugged in the numbers Vivi had given her followed by “ISBN.” And when the results came up, her stomach shrank to the size of a pea.
The book was one of hers.
She should have known. The main character was blind. Matty had even spent several days with blind “guides,” men and women gracious enough to share their time with her to help her experience what it was like to live in DC as a blind person.
But why would Brad make a point of leaving her a trail to one of her own books? Or was it even a trail at all? Maybe the form, and the numbers, hadn’t been left for her, but was just something Brad had laying around for another reason altogether.
She had no idea what to think, other than that it was just strange. And something she couldn’t dismiss or drop. Pursing her lips, she opened her file manager and scrolled through the list. She didn’t have that particular book on her hard drive so she got up to have a look at Brad’s bookshelves. He had several in the office, but she had noticed that he also kept books on the shelves in the formal living room and in one of the guest rooms upstairs.
The guest room, the thought clicked into her head. Where she was supposed to have slept. Deciding to start there rather than the living room, she headed back upstairs and entered the large guest suite. Approaching the shelves, she began to run her eyes systematically back and forth. And then, there, on the fourth shelf down, nestled amongst other genre fiction books, was the book she was looking for. As she pulled it off the shelf, the cover flapped opened and several pictures fell from between the pages.
She was definitely getting a bad feeling about all of this. She thought about calling Brad, but for the first time since her arrival, it crossed her mind that perhaps the reason he wasn’t calling back was because he couldn’t. Yes, they had talked the day before she had arrived, but the fact that he had left some sort of trail of clues for her to follow and had been, for all intents and purposes, unreachable, just wasn’t feeling right.
Taking a seat on the floor, she spread the photos out. There were eleven of them, but it became apparent very quickly that there were only three subjects being covered by the collection. The most recognizable pictures were taken in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina, judging from the architecture and destruction. But they were pictures unlike anything Matty had seen on television. Most were of bodies, some bloated and distended, others battered and tangled in fences or against walls. There were pictures of houses and FEMA shelters. And pictures of supplies, presumably flown in to provide relief. There was also a picture of two men she didn’t recognize but would peg as either government or big business, judging by their dark suits and ties.
Placing that set of pictures aside, she gathered up the most graphic of the three sets. In these were pictures of children, dead or dying, mostly lying on cots, but some in the street. And it was the street photos that gave her a clue as to what she was looking at. She couldn’t say for certain, but if she had to guess, she would wager the photos were from Haiti, taken after the earthquake. And, like the Katrina pictures, one stood out; it was a picture of three people, two men and a woman, dressed in western clothing, khakis and dark t-shirts. They were white but there was no indication of their nationality.
The last set of pictures didn’t seem to fit with the other two. The first photo was of a pretty, young woman. She looked petite and had long, blonde hair pulled back out of her face and she was wearing a big smile. It was a posed photo with a generic cloth background that gave Matty no clue as to who she was or where the photo was taken.
The other picture in the set was primarily of two older white men shaking hands. The only indication Matty had that it belonged with the other photo was the blurr
y image of the same young woman standing some distance behind the two men.
There were a number of other people in the background of the photo and, judging by the concrete structures she could make out, she would place them at some sort of sporting event. But what kind or where, she hadn’t a clue. Then again, as she fingered the picture and thought about how Brad had set things up so she would find all of the photos, maybe the racing form itself, not just the braille, was a clue. She frowned as she looked at the picture. She’d never been to the track up near Albany so nothing in the photo looked familiar. But it would be easy enough to check, if she felt so inclined.
But even if she confirmed that the photo was shot at the track, that wouldn’t explain why it was included in a stack of photos with the other, more graphic, images. More confused than before, she flipped through the pictures again. And then again. On the back of the picture of the two men in New Orleans were names, and she found the same on the back of the picture of the three people in Haiti. But there was nothing written on the picture of the woman or the picture of the two men with the same woman.
She sat on the floor for a long time trying to figure out not only what the pictures meant but what it meant that Brad appeared to have hidden them for her to find. So intent on the photos, Matty just about jumped out of her skin when her cell rang. But with a glance at the number, she hit ignore and put it back down. She had no interest in talking to Chen at this particular moment.
But the phone must have alerted the dogs to where she was; suddenly they were all standing in the doorway. Even Bob, with this bandaged paw and cone of shame. Looking at the clock on the bedside table, she realized it was doggy dinnertime.
These Sorrows We See Page 9
