ALoveSoDeep (11 page)

I smile. “Got it.”

I step into the suite, a larger version of the room I checked into last night, with the same kitchenette area with a stove and refrigerator inside the door to the right. But instead of the bed straight ahead, there is a sitting room with a flat screen TV, and a sliding glass door leading onto a balcony. The curtains are closed, and I can’t see Caitlin and Danny outside, but I take Sherry’s word for it and head toward the sliding glass door.

Off the sitting room, there are two doors on either side, leading to the bedrooms. The one on the left is closed up tight, but the door on the right is ajar, and as I pass through the sitting room, I hear Emmie singing to herself. I can’t understand the words to the song, but the tune makes me smile.

I peek inside to find Emmie in the middle of one of the two queen beds, surrounded by stuffed animals, making a koala bear and a giraffe dance across the sheets. She looks up, grinning when she sees me at the door.

“Hi, Gabe,” she says. “Want to play animals?”

“How do you play animals?” I ask, moving into the room, which smells of Caitlin’s shampoo and lavender and other scents that make it clear this is a girly space.

“You take one, and I take one,” Emmie says, holding out the giraffe. “And then we pretend.”

I settle on the edge of the bed and take the giraffe. “What should we pretend?”

“Koko on a scary rollercoaster,” Emmie says, holding up the koala. “And Raff wants her to stop because he’s afraid she’s going to get hurt.”

Without holding for more questions, Emmie mimes strapping Koko into a rollercoaster and proceeds to exclaim how excited she is to ride in a high, squeaky voice I can only assume is the koala’s. Following her lead, I give Raff, the Giraffe, a high-pitched voice, and beg Koko to get off the rollercoaster before it’s too late.

Koko proves immune to reason, and Raff is forced to resort to bribes and then threats, but Koko is determined to stay on the scary rollercoaster, even though the car is getting ready to jump over a pit of hot lava. Raff is in the midst of a fit of hysterics, and Koko is giggling her head off, when laughter comes from the entrance to the bedroom.

“This may be the best game of scary rollercoaster animals I’ve ever seen.” I turn to find Caitlin leaning against the doorframe, smiling that loving smile that makes her look lit up from the inside. Even with dark circles under her eyes, she is still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“Go away, Caitlin,” Emmie says, reaching out and fisting her hand in my shorts. “We’re playing now. You and Gabe can play later.”

“Well, thanks, Emmie,” Caitlin says, laughing. “Then, I guess I’ll make myself scarce. Just wanted you to know that Sherry is back with cinnamon rolls.”

“We aren’t hungry yet, thank you.” Emmie doesn’t release her grip, clearly intending to hold me prisoner, a fact that is ridiculously satisfying.

“We’ll play a little more,” I say, smiling at Caitlin. “As long as you don’t need me.”

Caitlin shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. Danny and I both talked to Sam on the phone again, and it seemed to calm her down. She’s going to sleep, and Danny’s going to call her later this afternoon.”

“What about the other calls?” I ask, not wanting to mention Isaac’s name.

Caitlin sighs and lifts a weary shoulder. “They keep coming, I keep not answering. Hopefully they’ll stop soon.”

“I made a call this morning, too,” I say. “To the clinic in Michigan where I had my surgery. I’ll tell you all about it over coffee in a few.”

Caitlin’s eyebrows drift up, but before she can speak, Emmie tugs on my shorts and says—

“Come on, Gabe. Let’s play.”

So we do, for another fifteen minutes, that turns into twenty when Koko is seriously injured right as I tell Emmie that Raff needs to take a break to eat breakfast. I finally convince Emmie to join me in the kitchen by agreeing that Koko and Raff can sit next to her on her stool at the counter. I carry Emmie and the animals into the other room and get them settled with a cinnamon roll, before turning to accept a coffee from Caitlin.

“Thank you,” I say before taking a grateful sip of the barely warm liquid.

Caitlin chuckles. “No one should have to play animals before coffee. It’s probably a form of torture in some parts of the world.”

I smile. “I had fun. Koko has a lot of personality.”

“Tell me about it,” Caitlin says, ruffling Emmie’s blond curls as the little girl digs into her cinnamon roll. “Once Koko, Raff, and Pooty started talking, we couldn’t get this one to stop.”

“Pooty?” I lift an eyebrow.

“You haven’t met Pooty?” Caitlin asks with a wicked grin. “Oh, but you will. Pooty is even louder than Koko. I’m sure you two will have a great time together.”

“I can go get him,” Emmie says, moving to slide off her stool before Caitlin stops her with a hand on her knee.

“Finish your breakfast first, okay? I need to talk to Gabe for a few minutes.”

Emmie frowns and holds up one icing-coated finger. “One minute.”

“Maybe more than one, but we’ll be done by the time you finish your cinnamon roll, I promise.” Caitlin takes my hand and leads me toward the balcony, past where the three boys are camped out on the couch watching TV while they eat, but a knock at the door stops her halfway across the room.

“Who could that be?” Caitlin asks, turning back to Sherry, who’s still in the kitchen. “You expecting someone?”

Sherry shakes her head. “No, I didn’t tell anyone where we were staying.”

Caitlin’s lips part, but before she can speak the knock comes again, more urgent this time. I step in front of her, instinctively wanting to protect her from whatever trouble might be at the door.

“Let me answer it.” I cross the carpet to open the door before Caitlin can protest, peering through the peephole to find a man in wrinkled khaki pants and a white polo shirt that’s a little tight across his rounded stomach.

I open the door a few inches. “Can I help you?”

“Good morning, is this Caitlin Cooney’s room?” the man asks with a benign smile. He looks harmless, but so did Ned Pitt, and I’m not about to let him at Caitlin until I know what he wants.

“Do you mind telling me who’s asking?” I say. “And why?”

The man pulls a manila envelope from behind his back. “I have a delivery. But I need to make sure it goes directly into Miss Cooney’s hands.”

“It’s okay, Gabe,” Caitlin says from behind me. I feel her cool fingers on my bare stomach and shift to the side, opening the door wide enough for her to stand beside me. “What’s the delivery?”

The man holds out the envelope, backing a step away the moment Caitlin has it in hand. “You’ve been served ma’am,” he says with another efficient smile.

“What?” Caitlin’s eyes go wide. “But I can’t—”

“Have a good day.” He turns, moving away down the hall, making a speedy getaway now that he’s dropped a bomb in the middle of our morning.

Caitlin cusses softly and smacks the envelope with one hand before ripping into the top with shaking fingers.

“Your sister already?” I ask, unable to think of anyone else who would be filing a legal suit against Caitlin.

Caitlin pulls out the paperwork, paling as she scans the pages. “She’s suing for custody, and she’s managed to get an expedited motion to get us into court for an initial hearing before we fly back.” She squeezes her eyes shut, and leans back against the doorframe. “She’s got a court date, and I don’t even have a lawyer.”

“I’ll make some calls right now,” I say. “I know a couple of people in Charleston that my father doesn’t care for, but who are supposed to be good. We’ll see if one of them will take the case. That way we can be sure they won’t carry the story back to my dad.”

Caitlin sighs, and her eyes slide slowly open, as if it’s an effort to move even those small muscles. “He’s going to find out sooner or later.”

“Let’s try to make it later, at least until I know how they convinced me to go to Michigan without calling to tell you goodbye.” I fill her in on my conversation with Bea, and watch her tired eyes grow troubled.

“They had something on you,” Caitlin says, echoing my thoughts. “Something big.”

“And I need to find out what before they try to use it again,” I say. “Assuming it’s the kind of blackmail that retains its effectiveness post brain-tumor.”

Caitlin sighs again, a longer, heavier sound this time. “Can’t anything ever be simple?”

I smile. “Yes. This morning will be. Go back to my room, and take a nap. I’ll take care of the lawyer, and start trying to dig up dirt on your sister.”

Caitlin shakes her head. “I need to run over to the department store and buy a hat. Or a scarf and glasses, something to wear to the funeral. Or maybe I shouldn’t go, after all.”

“I’ll take care of the hat, too,” I say, taking her by the shoulders and guiding her back down the hall. “You shouldn’t let my parents keep you from your father’s funeral if you want to go, and you shouldn’t start a day like today exhausted or every bad thing will seem worse.”

She smiles tiredly at me over my shoulder. “Are you sure this isn’t an excuse to take me back to bed?”

“Not this time,” I say. “But I will be reclaiming my shirt, so you’ll have to sleep naked.”

She lifts a brow. “Are you going to be able to resist if you see me naked?”

“No,” I confess as I open the door and urge her inside. “That’s why you’re going in, and handing the shirt back through a crack in the door.”

She laughs, but the sound fades quickly, and when she turns back to me, she looks scared. “Aoife can’t take Emmie away, can she? I mean, surely even she can see that Emmie is better off staying with the only family she’s ever known, right? Maybe if I try to talk to her again today, and keep my temper in check…”

I shrug. “It doesn’t matter. If Aoife sees that what she’s doing is selfish, great. If not, I’ll hire the best lawyer money can buy, and you’ll crush her in court. And I’ll start looking into her story this morning, see if I can find anything we can use to blackmail her into going away. No matter what we have to do, we’ll take care of it. Emmie is staying with you. Where she belongs.”

Caitlin looks comforted, but I’m glad when she hides behind the door and hands out my shirt, and I’m spared looking into her eyes. I want her to get her rest, but I’m not sure everything is going to be okay. The more I think about what Bea said, the more I worry that whatever my parents had against me is something no amount of muscle or money or quick thinking it going to be able to make go away.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Caitlin
“Earth’s crammed with heaven…
But only he who sees takes off his shoes.”
-Elizabeth Barrett Browning

You never forget your first funeral.

Mine was for Great Uncle Tom, who had a heart attack in his peach orchard while checking to see how his new stinkbug poison was performing. He was dead almost two days before Great Aunt Maryanne finally went looking for him. She found him curled up next to his John Deere, bloated in the mid-summer heat, and attracting flies.

The body was in terrible shape, but Maryanne insisted on an open casket. I heard the funeral home director tried to talk her out of it, but Maryanne was a stubborn cuss—the only reason she was able to stay married to a cranky bastard like Uncle Tom for fifty-eight years. She insisted on an open casket, and on Tom being squeezed into the good Sunday suit he hadn’t worn since the day a decade previous when he’d told Maryanne he was too old to waste a perfectly good Sunday bruising his ass on a church pew.

The funeral was held in a tiny country church out a long dirt road, somewhere close to Uncle Tom and Aunt Mary’s farm, though I can’t remember seeing it before, or since. But I remember stepping through the door, into the stifling heat of a one-room wood plank building with no air conditioning.

I remember holding Aoife’s hand so tight the sweat building between our palms dripped onto the dusty floor, and the gray, lumpish face of Uncle Tom peeking up above the top of the casket, looking like something out of a horror movie. I remember the way his chin seemed to be sliding back into his neck, and how terrified I was that his mouth was going to open up and something was going to come flying out. Daddy had said something to Mama in the car about flies laying eggs in dead bodies. I was in the backseat with all the windows rolled down, and wasn’t meant to hear, but I did.

I had nightmares for weeks after Uncle Tom’s funeral. I’d wake up shaking and sweating, feeling like something horrible was crawling up my throat and roll over and hug Aoife so tight she’d wake up groaning. But she never yelled at me. She would simply hug me, sweep my damp hair from my forehead, and tell me it was only a dream until I relaxed enough to go back to sleep.

Once upon a time, Aoife was my rock. I loved her like a mother, a sister, and a best friend all wrapped up together, but that was a long time ago.

Right now, watching her settle into a pew at the front of the church next to Veronica, Veronica’s two daughters, and all the Cooney cousins and second cousins, all I feel is angry and afraid. I wish she’d stayed in Florida. I wish I’d never been forced to see her face again, or realize I mean so little to the woman I once considered the most beautiful, perfect, necessary person in the world.