An Unquiet Grave (Louis Kincaid Mysteries) (49 page)

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Authors: P.J. Parrish

BOOK: An Unquiet Grave (Louis Kincaid Mysteries)
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She looked up. “Phillip,” she said softly.
“Do you remember him?”
A cloud passed over her face. “Gold leaves,” she said.
Louis glanced over at Rodney, who lowered his head.
“Gold leaves . . . silver ring,” Claudia said. “Phillip gave me a silver ring.” She looked up at Enid. “What happened to that ring?”
“I don’t know, dear,” Enid said.
Claudia’s gaze drifted to the window. Louis wasn’t going to press it, but suddenly Claudia began to hum. Then the words came and she sang softly.
“A boy and girl, they can kiss good-bye,
and run down the hillside together.
But a man and woman, their hearts can cry
forever and ever
Though oceans may sever.
True be my true love . . .”
 
She smiled at Louis. “We danced.”
Louis nodded. “I know. Phillip told me.”
“Phillip is here?”
“No,” Louis said. “Would you like to see him sometime?”
“Oh yes.”
Louis looked up at Rodney. He had his eyes shut. Enid was watching Claudia carefully. When Louis looked back at Claudia, her eyes had gone blank. Then she went back to arranging the cards. Her hands were small and she was having trouble holding all the cards. Louis caught a glimpse of a white scar on her left wrist.
“I think it was your turn,” Claudia said.
Louis pushed two more shells to the middle of the table. She did the same.
“You’re supposed to lay your cards down now,” she said.
Louis fanned them out. He had a pair of jacks.
Claudia smiled and set her ten cards down. “Two pair,” she said. She gathered in the shells.
“Claudia, do you remember a baby?” Louis asked.
“Baby?” She was picking up the cards and didn’t look up.
“Yes. You went to the hospital. Do you remember a baby?”
Her expression was suddenly harder, but Louis couldn’t tell if it was from a memory or because she was concentrating on shuffling the cards.
“I heard it crying,” she said, her delicate fingers struggling with the cards. “The baby was crying. I heard it but I never saw it.”
Her eyes shot up to Louis. “They took it away. Where is the baby?”
Louis hesitated. “Someone is loving it,” he said.
She nodded slowly.
Enid was hovering and Louis motioned her back with his eyes.
Claudia let the cards fall to the table. She covered her face with her hands. “The second one hurt,” she whispered.
“What?” Louis said.
“The baby. The second one hurt so bad.”
Louis heard the sharp intake of Rodney’s breath, but he kept his eyes locked on Claudia.
“Claudia,” Louis said gently, “do you remember being in the hospital?”
Her hands remained on her face but she nodded.
“Do you remember anything that happened to you there?”
“A dark room,” Claudia said. “And a doctor with hands like ice.”
Seraphin, Louis thought. “Do you remember a man?” he pressed.
“That’s enough,” Rodney said, stepping forward.
Claudia’s hands fell. Her eyes were dry but anxious. “A man?” She shook her head.
Thank God.
Seraphin had doped her up enough so she couldn’t remember Ives. Only Millie carried that nightmare.
Millie . . .
“Claudia, do you remember Millie?”
“Millie? Millie? We ran to the apple orchard.” Claudia’s face softened. “Millie was my friend.”
Louis was relieved to see the distress draining from Claudia’s face.
“Would you like to see Millie maybe?” he asked.
She nodded, smiling. Then she looked down, seemingly noticing the cards for the first time. “Do you want to play again?” she asked.
Louis looked up at Rodney. His face was ashen. He turned away. Louis moved a shell to the middle of the table.
“Your deal,” he said.
Claudia’s smile widened and she gathered up the cards. Enid came forward to pick up the ones that had fallen on the floor.
Louis leaned back in his chair, watching Enid’s gentle ministrations. He was watching Claudia, too, wondering how someone could have so much taken away—a lover, a baby, a life—and still endure. He was watching her and thinking about being in the tunnel and listening to that woman scream as she died. He was watching Claudia and thinking how envious he was of the peace he saw in her face.
She was dealing again. This time she gave herself two cards and dealt him ten. She set the rest of the deck in the middle of the table.
“Your move, Louis,” she said.
“I don’t know what to do,” he said.
“It’s easy,” she said. “You hang on to the ones you want to keep and throw away all the rest.”
The caramel-colored eyes held his for a moment. Louis started laying down his cards.
CHAPTER 47
 
It was late when Phillip returned home from Brighton. Frances had come with him. There had been no chance to talk to him alone until Frances had gone to bed. Louis waited until Phillip went outside for a smoke and followed him.
The moment seemed right. He told him about Claudia.
Phillip listened quietly, then asked one question.
When can I see her?
We’ll go first thing tomorrow, Phil.
It had been an emotional morning. Phil had waited until breakfast to tell Frances. Louis slipped off to the living room, wanting to listen, knowing he shouldn’t. But he had watched.
They were seated at the kitchen table, Phil’s hand over Frances’s. Louis saw Frances’s shoulders stiffen, then slump forward as Phil spoke. A few seconds later, she rose quickly from her chair and left the room, walking by Louis, jaw set, tears in her eyes.
But she had been at the front door when they left. Phillip was too lost in what lay ahead to see the look on his wife’s face as they pulled out of the drive, but Louis could see it. She was scared.
They needed to make a side trip on the way to Saugatuck, Louis told Phillip. Just before leaving the house, Alice had called, asking Louis to come out to say good-bye. She told him she and Charlie would be at the hospital where she was packing up her office. Louis had tried to brush it off, saying it was a long drive, knowing Phillip was anxious to get to Saugatuck, but then Charlie came on the phone.
I have a Christmas present for you, Mr. Kincaid.
Louis told Charlie he would be there about ten. On the way, they had passed a mall and Louis had the thought he should take Charlie a present, too, and he had just the right one in mind.
Louis found a music store and was halfway to the checkout with Iron Butterfly’s
In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida
tape when it occurred to him Charlie didn’t need, or probably want, the real version.
Louis put the Iron Butterfly back and wandered to the classical section. It was right in front: Felix Mendelssohn’s
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
, the complete score from the ballet. Louis added a Walkman and three sets of batteries and paid five dollars to have it wrapped.
 
There was one car in the Hidden Lake parking lot. It belonged to Alice. There were no police cars. No security. Just a monstrosity of a crane, the wrecking ball hanging motionless against the blue sky. A few bulldozers sat nearby, waiting to be put into action.
Louis put the car in Park and glanced over to the passenger seat. Phillip was bent forward, looking up at the administration building.
“I’ve been to the cemetery many times,” Phil said. “But I haven’t been inside the gates for fifteen years. If you don’t mind, I’ll wait here.”
Louis left the Impala running and hurried up to the door, Charlie’s present in his hand. The building seemed even emptier than before, no security officers roaming the halls, no voices. Up on the second floor, Charlie was sitting on the nurse’s desk, head bent over a comic book. He wore a cherry-red sweatshirt and what looked to be brand-new jeans.
“Hi, Charlie,” Louis said.
Charlie’s head came up and he slipped off the desk quickly, his eyes moving to the silver box in Louis’s hand. He shifted his weight, trying to hold back a smile.
Louis was about to hand it to him when Chief Dalum came down the hall from Alice’s office. She was right behind him. Both were in sweatshirts and jeans. Alice wore red Christmas ornament earrings.
“I didn’t see your car outside,” Louis said, extending a hand to Dalum.
Dalum took his hand, holding it a second longer than he needed to, tighter than he needed to. “Alice called me and said you’d be stopping by. I wanted to say good-bye,” Dalum said.
“Thanks for coming.”
“So, when you heading home?”
“Tomorrow.”
Dalum tilted his head toward the parking lot. “Who’s that with you?”
“My foster father. We’re on our way to see Claudia DeFoe.”
Dalum raised an eyebrow. “So you found her? Alive?”
“Yes,” Louis said. “Last thing I expected.”
“Was it?”
Louis held his look for a second. “I don’t know what I expected.”
“Best way to be,” Dalum said. “For a cop.”
Louis was quiet, trying to think of a quick way to thank Dalum for everything he had done. Thank him for sitting by his side the other night in the Ardmore Hospital. And for not saying a word for three hours. And for the warm fire in his house later. And the bowl of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup on his nightstand at one in the morning.
“I’ll stay in touch,” Louis said.
“Send me a postcard,” Dalum said. “One of those ones with the sexy babes in bikinis.”
“Will do.”
Charlie was waiting, eyes still on the silver package in Louis’s hand. Louis held it out. “Merry Christmas, Charlie.”
Charlie took it slowly, his long fingers picking at the bow as if it were the petals of a delicate flower.
“Just rip it open,” Louis said.
Charlie did, letting the paper and box lid drop to the floor. He stared at the tissue paper, then looked up at Louis, confused.
Louis reached in and pulled out the Walkman and headphones, and set them on Charlie’s head. Charlie still didn’t seem to understand. Louis slapped the Walkman in Charlie’s hand and hit the Play button.
Charlie’s eyes widened and his right hand moved to the side of his head, cupping the earphones. Louis held the cassette cover in front of his face. Charlie smiled, somehow knowing what it was.
Alice stepped up, reaching for Louis’s hand, not in a handshake, but in an embrace, both hands over his. “Thank you,” she said. “For his gift, and for what you did.”
Louis was quiet, watching Charlie. Charlie was swaying to a tune no one else could hear, and at that moment he looked like some kid on the beach in Florida oblivious to everything and everyone else.
Louis looked back at Alice. “Do you have a job lined up?”
“Not right away,” Alice said. “I have some savings. Maybe I’ll look after the first of the year. There’s a shortage of us, you know. Nurses.”
Louis glanced at Charlie again. “I need to say good-bye now.”
Alice waved her hand to get Charlie’s attention, and he looked up, pulled the headphones down to his neck, and grabbed a box wrapped in red paper from behind the desk. He came to Louis and held it out.
“Merry Christmas.”
Louis took the box, peeled off the paper, and lifted the top. It was a hat. Knitted wool, with a red and yellow zigzag pattern and two long chin ties with red tassels on each end.
“I tried to tell him,” Alice said softly, “that you live in Florida and you don’t need a hat.”
“It’s a helluva hat,” Charlie said.
Louis laughed. “Yes, it is.”
“It’ll keep your head warm.”
“Yes, it will.”
Louis took a deep breath, trying to decide how he wanted to say good-bye to Charlie, but Charlie made the decision for him.
He stuck out his hand, fingers spread. “Good-bye, Mr. Kincaid.”
Louis shook his hand, held it for a moment, then grabbed Charlie around the neck for a quick hug. Charlie drew back, cheeks red.
“Men shake hands,” Charlie said.
“Friends hug.”
“Okay.”
Louis said good-bye again to Alice and Chief Dalum, and he tucked the wool hat under his arm and started down the steps. He paused at the first landing, stopped by something he couldn’t see, slowed by an image he tried to bring into focus.

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