“Okay, I’ll pull myself together and be there in a while.”
Sunny felt horrible, having to tell her daughter about Gina. It had crushed Rita. And made her look so young. Again, she hoped her conversation with Gina wasn’t the cause. Damn, this was hard.
“Mom?”
Sunny paused at the door. “Yes?”
Rita put her hand on the arm of the couch for support. “Is Jesse okay? How did he sound when he called you? He must be in shock.”
Sunny’s stomach tightened. It was all too much for her. Sunny didn’t have any idea what she answered, or if she did.
She walked out the door, then took a few minutes in the car to wipe her face. “That was rough.”
Barry nodded deliberately. “I know. It was awful to see Rita so devastated. She loved Gina. We all loved her.”
CHAPTER SIX
Sunny grabbed Barry’s arm. “Wait! Stop here.” They were about to pass Sunny and Gina’s old hangout—Liquid Emotion—on Virginia Street.
“Here? You want me to stop here? It’s a bar.”
“I know it’s a bar. It’s where Gina and I hung out. I want to see it once more, for old times’ sake, to remember the good times.”
“Are you kidding? It’s a waste of time.”
“Just do this for me, will you? Please.”
He turned into the small asphalt parking lot in back of the bar and shut the ignition off.
When they walked through the door, the strong odor of stale beer, cigarettes, Pine-Sol, and sawdust smacked them in the face. It was still the same bar atmosphere with glistening bottles stacked neatly in front of a wall of mirrors. Flashing neon signs told customers Coors beer was “the best.” Gone were the ripped, cracked seats patched with duct tape. In darkened corners, smooth black leather booths had replaced the outdated, torn raspberry ones.
Sunny lifted her eyebrows. “This is where Gina and I spent our time, laughing, enjoying each other’s company, and talking with friends.”
On the jukebox, Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash wailed “On the Road Again” as she and Barry crossed the sawdust-covered floor.
Sunny pointed around the room. “Well, the scenery hasn’t changed much. I’m glad I have.” Hands on hips, she looked up at him. “At least one of us quit drinking.”
“You should talk, Miss I’ll Never Smoke Again. Hmm?”
Her eyes darted sideways at him. She ignored his remark.
A loud argument between two men and the bartender caught their attention. A silky haze of smoke lingered around them. It was noon and the rest of the place was empty.
Barry took it all in and smiled. “Maybe we could sit and have a beer.”
Her mouth hardened and she shot him a look. “And maybe we can’t.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
EARLY MONDAY AFTERNOON
When they reached the Reno Reservation Barry turned right, off Forrest Lane and drove to Hayes Street, maneuvering down the gravel road, around potholes and rocks. “Damn! This is some road. It’ll tear the hell out of a car.”
She smiled. “Well, at least it’s drivable now.”
He leaned into the steering wheel. “Barely. It’s still the shits,” he observed as the car bounced on its shocks.
“We used to have to park at the end of the road and walk in.” She twisted her head to look out the window. “There’s my old place, where I grew up. Look at it now. All boarded up.”
Barry glanced at the house. “Yeah, damn shame.”
“I swear it looks worse every time I see it. It always makes me sad.”
Barry reached over and patted her hand. “I know. I remember we met after you and Rita moved to that little white stucco off Wells Avenue.”
“Yeah, I think so. I forgot about that place.”
“I’ll never forget the first time I saw you. I was lecturing on law enforcement to the County Social Services. You were sitting in the aisle seat, in the second row, taking notes as fast as you could write. When you looked up our eyes met and boy, were you hooked.” He gave a short chuckle.
Sunny punched his arm. “Oh yeah, well, I remember it the other way around. You couldn’t take your eyes off me.” Her sadness lifted for a moment.
He grinned.
Barry parked in front of a faded yellow house with peeling green shutters and a yard that was more dirt and weeds than lawn.
“I’m lucky to find a parking spot. Looks like they have a crowd in there.”
They walked along the driveway. The neighbor’s dog lifted his head, looked, and went back to sleep on his blanket.
Barry tilted his head toward the dog. “Eee-e-e. Maybe he’s too cold to bark.”
“It’s so like you to think about the cold dog.” Barry had always been good with animals and children.
He raised his nose. “Someone is making fry bread. Reminds me of my mom’s house. Her kitchen always smelled so good.” They sniffed the familiar aroma filling the air.
He sighed and took her arm. “You okay?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she hung her head and looked at her shoes. They climbed up the three stairs to Gina’s last address. It was less than twenty-four hours since Gina had died. Sunny needed to find out exactly what had happened. She just couldn’t accept suicide, not for Gina. She didn’t know when she had decided this, but she had. Despite the cold desert air, her hands were wet with perspiration.
She took a deep breath, braced herself, and then rang the bell. The door opened. “Gerald!” she gasped and stammered. “Of all people. What a… a … surprise.”
The years had treated him well. Silver threads flowed through his short black hair. A dark green turtleneck complemented his olive skin; gray slacks hung nicely on his hips. His waistline, in her opinion, indicated a few too many beers. She’d been engaged to him over twenty years ago, before Barry. Panic stirred in her stomach and floated up her throat. Her body tensed.
Her face felt heated as she introduced the two men. “This is my husband, Barry Davis.”
Gerald shook his hand and leaned down to give her a polite hug. “It’s been a long time,” he whispered in her ear.
She hesitated, hoping he couldn’t feel her heart beating like a tribal drum. After the usual pleasantries, Gerald led them through the house.
Barry touched her arm, looking at her with eyebrows raised. “And?”
Her face felt frozen in a smile. “No big deal. I knew him long before I met you.”
Sunny nodded to people she knew. A few gathered around Gina’s half sister, Eva. She seemed shorter and heavier than Sunny remembered. Her bobbed hair shone like patent leather.
With a new interest and uneasiness she stared at Eva. She’d never trusted the woman, who was sneaky … and mean-spirited. When Eva pointed to the ceiling Sunny’s eyes followed; she sucked in a breath. Her mouth gaped, and she stared in horror at the small pieces of flesh and splatters of blood. A few long black hairs clung to the cottage-cheese ceiling. Eva showed it off like it could be squashed bugs, seemingly unmoved by it all. She gave Sunny a smirk and a low “Humph.”
“My God!” Sunny grabbed her stomach. Her lips twisted in repulsion, her eyes narrowed.
“What the hell?” Barry murmured.
“That turned my stomach upside down,” Sunny said. “She’s Gina’s half sister, such a bitch we call her Evil Eva.”
Barry shook his head. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I hope it’s because she’s in shock,” Sunny hissed under her breath.
“I think it’s ’cause she’s nuts.” He made his way into the kitchen where the men were gathered.
Sunny walked around the living room. It had a familiar feel, as if frozen in the 1960s. In the corner sat an antique rocker. When she walked by she couldn’t help reaching out to touch the apple-green-and-orange paisley print upholstery. A threadbare matching ottoman stood alone.
She looked across the large room at the brown love seat, the same one she and Gina had sat on many times. As she stood by the wall
and listened, she imagined she heard Gina laughing. Sunny remembered when they had gossiped about Maggie, the old drunk down the street who chased them whenever they walked past her yard.
The memory made her smile. She leaned against the wall and gasped, then backed away. Someone had tried to wash the spattered blood off the wall, leaving pinkish-brown streaks. Regaining her composure, she moved away and walked around.
A quilt covered the other sofa. Her first thought was that the couch was shabby and torn. Taking another look, she saw the quilt had been pulled back to reveal the large dark blood stain that ran along the back and over the side.
The worn avocado shag carpet clashed with a dark blotch that had dripped beneath the couch. It smelled like death, and felt to her as if the blood had dried in midair. I feel like I’m in the House of Terror.
Realizing the horror of her thought, she wandered through the large living room to look for Jesse. She noticed the basketball-size hole in the television screen. “Did Gina take a practice shot?”
On the coffee table, ashtrays overflowed with bent cigarette butts, and ashes heaped up like a volcano. The odor of stale, burnt tobacco rose from the table. A lump stuck in her throat. She swallowed hard.
“Hi, Sunny.” The familiar voice was almost a whisper.
Startled, she turned and found herself face-to-face with Jesse. They exchanged a quick awkward hug.
Still handsome, the sun lines around his eyes and scruffy beard gave him a weathered look. Long black braids hung over his shoulders. His Marine-like posture made his six-foot stature even more impressive.
“Will you please tell Eva to stop the show-and-tell? Now! Do you see what she’s showing them? What the hell is wrong with her?”
“Eva, knock it off!” he shouted across the room.
His sister-in-law shot him a defiant look, then a condescending smile. She stopped and shrugged.
Watchful, Sunny’s gaze flitted around the room. “I’m so sorry about Gina. Let me know if I can do anything. But right now, I need to know everything: the how and why.”
Glancing at the roomful of people, Jesse took her elbow and guided her toward the bedroom. “We can talk in there.”
When they walked past the kitchen, she saw empty Coors cans on the counter and piled in the sink. The air was dense with the yeasty tang of stale beer, which had spilled on the floor and mixed with dirt brought in on shoes and boots, smearing muddy footprints across the linoleum.
Barry stood in the corner holding a coffee cup while he talked with Gerald and another man. Her heart skipped a beat. She hoped they weren’t talking about her. She caught her husband’s attention, motioned toward the bedroom, and mouthed, I’ll be right back.
In the bedroom, at the sight of Gina’s photo on the dresser, she choked back a sob. The picture showed a woman turned sideways, her face toward the sky, with flawless dark olive skin. Her hair swirled in the air, caught by a breeze.
Sunny’s chest was tight, her head heavy. Torment consumed her. On display around the room were pictures of Gina’s three boys, the oldest, twelve-year-old Tommy, and the two younger ones—Jesse’s—Martin and Patrick.
Sunny snatched up a marble off the dresser and rolled it in her hand. “Where are the boys?”
“My mom took them. She’s going to keep them with her. It’s too much for them. They’re the ones who found her. They were playing outside.”
“What? Oh my God!” She covered her face. Sunny’s heart felt like glass shattered into tiny pieces. She dropped onto the bed. “Gina was crazy about her children. I can’t imagine she would kill herself, especially with them in the front yard.”
She stared at Jesse’s face. The muscle in his jaw twitched as she sat across from him. They were seated on the edge of the bed when he started to say something. She jumped to her feet and walked over to a small table and grabbed up the brown box with an advertisement for gun shells. She picked it up. “What’s this?”
“I keep my pistol in it. After she shot herself, I buried it out in the field.”
“What!” Her face twisted in disbelief. “Why?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking.”
She walked to the window and looked at the tall weeds behind the house before giving her attention back to Jesse. “Why didn’t the police take it? Don’t they need it for evidence?”
“Gina used my twenty-two rifle. The pistol was under a board in the closet. Maybe, because it was a suicide, the cops didn’t look there. I took it out after they left.”
His knee was bouncing. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“What the hell happened here anyway? This is crazy. Things don’t make sense.” She rubbed her forehead. “I just talked to her a few days ago. Was she upset? Was she drunk? Did you guys fight?”
He didn’t answer her last question. “Gina was upset after she called you. She started to cry, ran to the bedroom, and slammed the door. Something hit the wall and broke. What happened between you two?”
She looked down at her lap, crossed and uncrossed her hands. Her stomach had a lead ball in it. “It was … a huge blow-up.”
His jaw dropped. “What? Why?” He pushed one of his braids behind his shoulder. “You two were like family friends forever.”
Pacing, she picked up a pack of cigarettes, tapping out one for herself. Should I say something now or keep quiet? Anger churned though her body.
She took a deep breath. “I can’t keep it to myself any longer. Gina accused me of knowing you and Rita were having an affair. Why would she think that, Jesse? She was talking divorce.”
He flicked his lighter and watched her lean toward the flame. His shoulders lowered as he looked away. “Who knows where she got her crazy ideas?”
Sunny inhaled, then blew the smoke out. “When I said I didn’t know about anything like that she called me a lying bitch. She said, ‘Eva knows.’ Then I got mad. We called each other some choice names. She said, ‘I can’t believe my two best friends would stab me in the back.’”
His eyes widened. “I don’t get it.”
She took another drag. “She knows us. We’ve always been there for her. How could she think that? I told her she could keep her lying, troublemaking sister to herself. And I said I didn’t want her in my life anymore. When I said, ‘Don’t call me again,’ she hung up on me.”
Tears welled in Sunny’s eyes. “I should have been calmer and more understanding. I’ve done social work for years. I’ve dealt with people’s emotions every day, for God’s sake. Now I’ve lost my best friend, and it can never be fixed.” Her lips quivered. “I pray that wasn’t what sent her over the edge.”
Elbows on his knees, he hung his head and stared at the carpet.
Did Jesse’s face show any signs of deceit? She couldn’t tell. His face was free of emotion. “Why don’t you answer my question? Did you have an argument? Were you seeing someone else?” Her voice rose as she went for the ashtray. “Why did she think you were cheating on her?”
His hands trembled as he shoved the sleeves on his sweater up. “Now you sound like Gina.”
Sunny’s eyes tracked his gesture. “Rita doesn’t know about Gina’s suspicions. So it’s all on you, Jesse. I want the truth. Did she confuse Rita with some other woman?” Sunny took in a breath. “What the hell is going on with you?”
He avoided direct eye contact. “I don’t know where she got such a crazy idea.”
“Maybe it’s not so crazy. You collect women like a black suit collects dandruff.”
“Eee-ee. That’s cold. Yeah, I care a lot about your daughter. I used to tease Rita a lot. I’d say Gina and I were going to wait for Rita to grow up and catch up to us. But I was kidding. Gina knew that, even she got a kick out of teasing Rita. She loved Rita.”
She scanned Jesse for some sign of guilt. “Humph.”
“I have a feeling Eva started the rumor. Sounds like her,” he said. “She was always telling Gina I messed around with this woman or that
one. She’s jealous and a troublemaker. She’s like a pesky gnat.”
“Or a rattlesnake,” Sunny murmured. She looked at her nails as her cigarette burned itself out. “Gina said Eva was the one who told her. I know one thing; my daughter wouldn’t do that to Gina, not with you of all people.”
She took a deep breath. “Now you listen to me. I haven’t told Rita about any of this. Don’t you say anything. I’ll tell her myself.” Sunny rolled her shoulders waiting for the weight to lift. But the guilt over her part in the call last week kept it from happening. She had to ask herself if what she said was the reason Gina killed herself? A suspicion niggled at the back of her mind.
A loud knock on the bedroom door startled Sunny. The door opened and Eva barged in without waiting to be invited. A cloud of dime-store perfume filled the room. Sunny sneezed and whispered to Jesse, “Does she bathe in that stufi?”
Eva gave him a quick smile and looked Sunny up and down. “Rita’s here … with some guy,” she snarled and left, mumbling to herself.
Rita came in, her eyes watery. A man followed behind as she gave her mother a hug. She crossed over to Jesse and did the same. In Sunny’s opinion, their embrace lasted a little too long. He too, seemed moved, his cheek twitched, and the vein throbbed in his temple, he dropped his arms to his side.
This left Sunny wondering. She had hoped for a clear signal that they were not involved, which she didn’t get. But how could she doubt her only daughter? Rita wasn’t that kind of girl … or friend.
“What’s up with Evil Eva?” asked Rita.
Sunny rolled her eyes. “Who knows? Just being her usual bitchy self.”
Rita pulled at the arm of the young man beside her. “Mom, Jesse, this is Lee.”
“Hello,” Sunny and Jesse said.
Lee was in his early twenties, like Rita, with short dark auburn hair, mustache, and eyebrows. He reminded Sunny of a cop: like the ones she dealt with at work. They were cut from the same pattern, stocky, arrogant, and forceful. He stood a good seven or eight inches taller than Rita. He shook hands with Sunny and offered his hand to Jesse, who turned away and didn’t acknowledge him.
Whispers in the Wind Page 3
