Authors: Sarah Andrews
Earth Colors (7 page)
A familiar voice filled the line. “Hi, Em.” It was Ray, the man I had been nuts over before I met Jack.
I sat there with my mouth hanging open for some good ten or fifteen seconds, because I had not heard from Officer Thomas B-for-Brigham “Ray” Raymond in quite some time. Not since the night all hell had broken loose and he had tacitly chosen his family and his religion over me. Funny how these interfaith engagements can go. I had thought I would never hear from Ray again, and decided that was just fine, but it seemed that this was my forty-eight hours for emotional jolts.
“Em? Am I calling too early?”
“Ray. Uh … hi. No, I’m up. But uh …
why
exactly are you calling?”
why
exactly are you calling?”
“Because I want to talk to you.” From the tone of his voice, he thought this was funny. As in,
Duh
.
Duh
.
“Uh, okay. So, uh … talk.”
“No, I mean get
together
and talk.”
together
and talk.”
This did not compute. In part because Thomas B. Whutzisname Raymond was not a talker. But I said, “Okay.” Why? Because sometimes I just don’t know how to say no, such as at moments like this, when I am in fact curious to know what is motivating a pig to take up the habit of sprouting wings and flying.
“Meet me for lunch?”
“No.”
“Dinner?”
“No,” I said, more firmly. “I’m willing to talk, Ray, but I don’t think I can mix it with food.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough. Go for a walk, then?”
I thought this through a moment. Sure, in broad daylight in a public place, we could walk and talk. “Where and when?”
“How about right now?”
“Mm.” I was trying to sound noncommittal, because I was in fact free, but did not want to sound easy.
“I’ll park in front of your house, and we can just walk from there.”
“Okay … but, wait, you don’t know where I’m living.”
He laughed again. “Yes, I do. You’re staying with Faye, in that house she bought with Tom … before he died. By the way, I was sorry to hear about that.”
Hearing his condolences was more than I could handle. If he wanted to get together, then fine, but not on my turf. “I’m coming downtown anyway. I can meet you at Salt Lake Roasters,” I said, venting my annoyance by asking a strict Mormon to meet me at a coffee shop. “And make it ten o’clock.” I did not want him coming to my home, and I’d be damned if he was going to see me this disheveled. I needed time to take a shower and dig out a clean pair of jeans.
Why am I so annoyed
? I wondered.
I’ve moved on with life. Ray is in the past. But there’s something not right about this!
I said, “How the hell do you know where I live, Ray?”
Why am I so annoyed
? I wondered.
I’ve moved on with life. Ray is in the past. But there’s something not right about this!
I said, “How the hell do you know where I live, Ray?”
“Oh come on, Em. I’m a cop. Remember?”
I HAD TO admit, Ray looked good. I mean
good
, not just his usual handsome self. He had a certain glow about him. He was smiling, and his gait seemed easier, more open. As I joined him on the sidewalk, I decided that he had come to tell me that he was getting married or something.
good
, not just his usual handsome self. He had a certain glow about him. He was smiling, and his gait seemed easier, more open. As I joined him on the sidewalk, I decided that he had come to tell me that he was getting married or something.
He was wearing one of those nice pairs of blue jeans he filled so athletically, his usual pristine white running shoes, and a nice fleece-lined jacket. His indigo-blue eyes were bright, and his cheeks were rosy in the crisp air. He gave me a slight bow, but kept his hands in his pockets.
I bowed, too.
He indicated that we could start walking to the east, uphill toward the trace of the Wasatch Fault. We walked. We had gone perhaps a block and a half before he spoke, which seemed more like the Ray I was used to, the
one who spoke ten paragraphs in body English for every word that passed his lips. But then the words started, and it seemed he had quite a bit to say.
one who spoke ten paragraphs in body English for every word that passed his lips. But then the words started, and it seemed he had quite a bit to say.
“I wanted to talk to you about what happened between us, kind of clear things up. That okay with you?”
“Sure,” I said.
“We were engaged, and then all that business with my family happened, and I didn’t handle it well. So I wanted first to apologize.”
Huh
? He was referring to a falling-out of titanic proportions. He was a Mormon and I had precipitated an event that resulted in the incarceration of two of his family members. “I figure you could be forgiven for just about anything that night, Ray. Uh, I think even it’s the other way around. Maybe I should be apologizing.”
? He was referring to a falling-out of titanic proportions. He was a Mormon and I had precipitated an event that resulted in the incarceration of two of his family members. “I figure you could be forgiven for just about anything that night, Ray. Uh, I think even it’s the other way around. Maybe I should be apologizing.”
He smiled, a bit more shyly this time. “No, it’s definitely my turn. If you want to make amends to me, you can call me and make an appointment.” He kind of danced his shoulders about as he said this, trying to be funny, keeping things light.
“Well, fine. I accept your apology.”
“Thanks.”
We walked on for about another block or so without saying anything. Gradually, his words sank in, and not just what he had said, but how he had said it.
Amends
? “Uh, Ray, are you going to Al-Anon or something?”
Amends
? “Uh, Ray, are you going to Al-Anon or something?”
He blushed crimson. “Does it show?”
“What the—Your family are all Mormons. Not a one of them drinks a drop. What are you doing in Al-Anon?”
Suddenly all the frivolity was gone from his face. “It’s a good program. Surely you know that from your mother.”
“Well, yeah, the Twelve Steps is part of how she got sober. But she was a drunk, Ray.”
“And I am part of a … It works for me. That’s all that needs saying.”
I kept walking, studying the pavement just in front of my feet with great concentration. “I’m impressed, Ray.”
“Well …”
“And I’m glad for you.” In fact, I was jealous. Apart from his current embarrassment, he looked jubilant, downright happy, and I was not.
“So as long as I’m making amends, I’m supposed to be specific about it. I am sorry that I was so hard on you, Em. I’m sorry I asked you to give up what was true for you to try to be with me. I judged you very harshly, and
that wasn’t fair. I wanted you to change yourself so that I wouldn’t have to face myself. That was cowardly.”
that wasn’t fair. I wanted you to change yourself so that I wouldn’t have to face myself. That was cowardly.”
I tripped, and there wasn’t even any broken pavement to trip on. My feet just got in each other’s ways, and I stumbled. “Ray—” In the movies, this is where the guy is supposed to reach out and take the girl in his arms, and it’s all sweetness and mush and the music swells and off we go to la-la land. But this was Em Hansen and Ray Raymond on a sidewalk on a brisk morning in Salt Lake City, and he kept his hands stuck in his pockets while I found my footing and lurched forward, hurrying to keep out of range just in case he got his hands out. I did not think that physical touch from another human being would help me get my bearings just then. I opened my mouth and closed it several times, trying out sounds that did not quite emerge from my throat, and then finally managed to say, “Thank you.”
“Thank you for listening.”
We walked on for quite a while, he with his head up, me with my head bowed like I was pressing into a high wind. We must have looked quite a pair.
So this is the gag
, I was thinking.
He did not phone me up to say, “Let’s get together,” or “I still miss you terribly and will pine for you forever.” No, he’s rattling my cage just to free his self. Well, I can’t fault him for that, but I must admit—
So this is the gag
, I was thinking.
He did not phone me up to say, “Let’s get together,” or “I still miss you terribly and will pine for you forever.” No, he’s rattling my cage just to free his self. Well, I can’t fault him for that, but I must admit—
Admit what? That I’m a vain idiot who can’t see that life is marching on without me?
Ooo
, I scolded.
Here we go again, arguing with ourself!
, I scolded.
Here we go again, arguing with ourself!
Ray broke the silence. “You’re a good person, Em. A good friend. I’ve missed your company.”
Ah. Now it starts
.
.
Suddenly his throat sounded tight. “I’d like it if we could get together now and then, or talk, just on the phone if that’s okay.”
“I don’t know, Ray.”
“I know, I know. When you blow someone’s trust like I did with you, well … you’ve simply blown it, and they’re not going to trust you again all at once, so you have to earn it back in tiny bits. This isn’t a boy-girl thing I’m trying to press on you, so please relax. I just don’t like to leave it like it was. I want to be worthy of your trust, because you’re someone I admire.”
My brain had now reached full boil, and I wondered if steam was pouring out of my ears. I did not feel admirable in the least, or even trustworthy,
let alone someone whose trust should be sought. I felt like a prize idiot who had been mistaken for a woman with sense. I wanted simultaneously to mount a valiant steed in my Joan of Arc suit and to turn around and kick this man in the shins, and I could not explain either urge to myself.
let alone someone whose trust should be sought. I felt like a prize idiot who had been mistaken for a woman with sense. I wanted simultaneously to mount a valiant steed in my Joan of Arc suit and to turn around and kick this man in the shins, and I could not explain either urge to myself.
We walked on.
Eventually we turned right, and then right again, passing between the square Victorian grandeur of the City and County Building and the ultramodern curves of the new city library, and by and by we were back at Salt Lake Roasters. “Everything going okay with Faye?” he asked. “Or at least as well as might be expected?”
I clenched my teeth. “Oh, she’s doing just fine,” I said, a bit too forcefully. I was thinking that right now, she was on the road with what’s-his-name, laughing and preening, preening and laughing, and that Sloane Renee was probably strapped into her little car seat all by herself in the back, all lonesome. I imagined her crying, unheard, ignored. I tried to erase that thought, not wanting her to feel an instant’s pain, then I decided that I was going insane as I felt a sharp urge to grab Ray by the wrist, give him a yank toward me, and say,
Want to make a baby? Right now? Right here
?
Want to make a baby? Right now? Right here
?
But I did not, because who’d want to get it on with a nut case? Oblivious to what was going on inside my head and heart, Ray gave me a final smile, or perhaps he gave it to himself. “Thanks for meeting with me,” he said. “I’ve got to go.”
And he left.
YOU’D THINK I WOULD HAVE FOUND IT PLEASING TO RECEIVE AN apology like that, but something about it did not stick to my ribs. In fact, I felt quite annoyed at Ray, and the longer I thought about it, the stronger that annoyance grew. So I did the only reasonable thing: I pushed the conundrum of the meeting out of my mind and stormed into Salt Lake Roasters in search of a cup of coffee, muttering to myself that if there were a twelve-step program for caffeine addicts, I’d make a good poster child for it.
I met a pal at the counter: the incomparable Tanya, the woman who managed the local FBI office, the one where Tom Latimer worked before he married Faye.
Tanya was her usual appallingly cheerful self. She was just purchasing a latte and a chocolate cookie, and she invited me to join her for a tour of the roof of the new library.
I liked the new library. It is the only library I have ever known that has a coffee shop on the main floor, lounges featuring chessboards, fireplaces, and stunning city views on every level, a newsstand inside its five-story glass atrium, and a garden on its roof. So I said yes, paid for my jolt of java, and followed her down the sidewalk and up the elevators to the roof of the new building. We settled on a bench that had a nice view and I started into the ritual of small talk, which was about all I was good for at that moment. “What brings you out on a workday?”
Tanya was just placing the cookie between her lips for rapturous nibble. Efficient in her sensuousness, she waited until she had chewed and swallowed
before answering me. “I took the morning off to run some errands. And then I decided to play hooky from doing the errands.”
before answering me. “I took the morning off to run some errands. And then I decided to play hooky from doing the errands.”
“Well, it’s nice to see you. Been ages.”
“Hey, you too. Where’s your papoose?”
“Faye’s up in Wyoming for a few days,” I said, my tone of voice more glum than I had intended.
Tanya’s eyebrows jumped ever so slightly. Nothing got past Tanya, not even the FBI spooks that worked with her. “Had a spat, have you?” She put down her cookie and attended to some crumbs she had dropped on her blouse.
One thing I had to hand to Tanya, she could make the third degree sound like light, impersonal chitchat. Almost. I clenched my teeth, vowing that I would not say another word about Faye or her reasons for being away. I buried my attention in taking a long draw on my coffee while I collected myself.
Tanya took a demure sip of her latte and studied me frankly. “Strange marriage you two have.”
“What?” I snapped.
She made a dismissive gesture and plucked another crumb from her shirt. I gripped my coffee with both hands.
First Ray and now Tanya. Hey, it’s open season on Em. Let’s just line them up, and everyone take their best shot
. I said, “Sure, just laser-search my psyche, make a couple of wild leading remarks, and move on. Nice to see you, too, Tanya.”
First Ray and now Tanya. Hey, it’s open season on Em. Let’s just line them up, and everyone take their best shot
. I said, “Sure, just laser-search my psyche, make a couple of wild leading remarks, and move on. Nice to see you, too, Tanya.”
Tanya pulled back her head and made an elaborate job of blinking at me. “My, my, but didn’t
you
wake up feeling a bit defensive this morning.”
you
wake up feeling a bit defensive this morning.”
“Yes, I did. The baby is with Faye. I miss the baby. You got a problem with that?”
“What’s Faye doing in Wyoming?”
My self-control vanished. “What’s Faye doing? Oh, just screwing around with some swell who puts Narcissus to shame for rank self-involvement. Which leaves me here in Salt Lake feeling like a prize chump for taking off a year from my life to help her with her adjustment to motherhood, as it seems she’s done with me now, thank-you-very-much-goodbye. And just to add sunshine to my day, Ray Raymond looks me up to do a twelve-step dump job so he can feel just great while I feel like a retard. Just what the hell do you mean, ‘marriage?’”
Tanya put down both cup and cookie and raised her hands in mock surrender. “Hey—mortgage, baby, arguments you don’t talk about; some people call that a commitment.”
“Very funny,” I said irritably. “I’m just waiting for Jack to come back. And I’m finishing my master’s.”
“‘Finishing’,” she said, almost making it a question. “So sorry to intrude. So, what are your plans, really?”
I wanted to snarl,
You sound just like Faye!
but the reality was that I did not have a plan. I was winging it, waiting to see what happened with Jack. I said, “I am willing to help Faye as long as she needs me.”
You sound just like Faye!
but the reality was that I did not have a plan. I was winging it, waiting to see what happened with Jack. I said, “I am willing to help Faye as long as she needs me.”
Tanya patted me on the arm. “Are you still feeling responsible for Tom’s death?”
“Oh, great. First Ray with the Twelve Steps, and now you’re a full-on shrink. Fine. Call it ‘survivor’s syndrome’ if you want, but I keep thinking that I could have prevented what happened to him.”
Tanya shook her head. “He was in the wrong place at the wrong instant, Em. The life of an agent hangs on split-second timing. Tom could have gotten it a hundred times before you ever met him.”
“So, I should have seen that he was slowing down. I pushed him.”
“No one pushed Tom Latimer. He was the one that did the pushing. We all miss him, Em.”
I was babbling now. “Jack can’t even talk about it. I can’t talk to him about it. We were both there with him, together. Whom better to talk to?”
Tanya let silence sit for a moment, then said, “You think that might have had something to do with Jack going active?”
I froze. This was the thing I had not wanted to consider. Had Jack run away when his feelings overwhelmed him? Did he run to war when I’d have preferred he’d come to me with his pain?
Tanya changed the subject. “So, back to this Ray Raymond. Is that the Ray Raymond with the nice buns who’s a cop on the Salt Lake force?”
“That would be the one.”
“What do you mean, ‘twelve-step dump job’? He take your inventory or something?”
“Inventory?”
“That’s when someone who’s sworn off the sauce figures he’s so smart he gets to go around telling everyone else what’s wrong with
them
.”
them
.”
“No, that would be what
you’re
doing. No, Ray was much cuter than
that. He gave me the old ‘Here I am apologizing for my folly in having known you’ job. ‘Things were sweet. Things were, in fact,
so
great that I’m getting a life. I was a turkey, now I’m an eagle—
see
ya.’”
you’re
doing. No, Ray was much cuter than
that. He gave me the old ‘Here I am apologizing for my folly in having known you’ job. ‘Things were sweet. Things were, in fact,
so
great that I’m getting a life. I was a turkey, now I’m an eagle—
see
ya.’”
Tanya rolled her eyes. “I agree that twelve-step amends can be more for the forgiven than for the forgiver, but aside from that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play? I mean … it’s quite a view from up here, isn’t it?” She gestured out toward the rocky wall of the Wasatch range, which today arched its spine above Salt Lake City with particular pride. The view from the roof of the library was nothing short of stunning: The Wasatch front reached south to hold hands with the Oquirrhs, and the curving sweep of the library’s daring architecture completed the geometry like a circle of young maidens embracing the coming of spring.
As always, Tanya’s reasonableness had its effect, and I began to calm down. It was true that Ray’s apology had been more for his sake than for mine; nothing had changed, everything was still on his terms, still lacking in the mutuality I craved. Seeing Frank up in Cody had bothered me, too. He was as kind and gentle and caring as Jack was romantic and funny and … well, thrilling. I wanted a man who was all that and more like Ray, possessed of a healthy dash of self-interest. And wanting all that made me emotionally dizzy.
Tanya cleared her throat. “So what do you hear from Jack?”
I tried to bury my face in the task of taking another sip of my brew, but managed to choke on it.
“That bad?” she inquired.
“He’s doing fine,” I rasped.
“But you’re not,” she said affably. “You look like somebody swiped your birthday cake.”
“Tanya, let’s change the subject, okay?”
“Okay. How’s the thesis going?”
“Nowhere. Faye’s got a hot idea for me, but—”
Tanya put a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Tell me about it.”
I began to crumple under her sympathy. “Maybe it’s not the stupidest idea anyone ever had, but I’d need a lot of help with it, because the thing is … Well, hell, the problem is that there really is no place to go to get a degree in forensic geology. The curriculum does not exist. I’ve been taking courses that other forensic geologists have taken, but when it comes to doing a thesis, it’s darned hard to come up with something. My advisor is
supposed to help me with this, but she’s not a forensic geologist. In fact, there aren’t any theses to use as guides, even.”
supposed to help me with this, but she’s not a forensic geologist. In fact, there aren’t any theses to use as guides, even.”
“But people do the work. We have three forensic geologists on staff back at the labs in Quantico.”
I fought the urge to lean against her for strength. “Can I take you into my confidence on something? I mean, pick your brains a bit?”
Tanya arched her own spine and offered the bronze skin of her face skyward to the kiss of the sun. “Pick ho; I’m not sure what you’ll find in there, but if there’s anything, it’s all yours. I surely wouldn’t want to get stuck paying the storage fee.”
“Well, the fact is that the reason Faye’s in Wyoming … Well, she has a client … And well, I’ve been asked to do a little private investigation work. I don’t like the sound of the job, but Faye’s involved in it, so I have to convince her that it’s best to turn it down.”
“What don’t you like about it?”
“It would require a lot of analytical work, for starts.”
Tanya cocked her head to one side. “Analytical work? You mean hard evidence? You’re right; that’s not you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tom always told me you fly seat-of-the-pants.”
“Ye-es,” I drawled, “Tom always loved me for my intuition, not for my hard science, but that’s because—”
“I thought he said it was your hard
head
he liked.”
head
he liked.”
“Tanya, you are so far out of line today, I—”
“So what is it you need from me?”
“Like you say, there are geologists working in the FBI forensics lab. I’ve been meaning to contact them anyway to ask them … well, for help with the thesis. But it’s kind of tough, phoning someone I don’t really know and saying, ‘Hey, help me.’ But I’d also like to ask them about the work. Kind of do an informational interview. Find out where I might apply for work if I ever—
when
I get this master’s finished.”
when
I get this master’s finished.”
Tanya said, “Oh, I get it, you want to work in the lab in D.C. so you can be near Jack when he gets home. Why didn’t you just say so?”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten. “Tanya, I swear, can you take just one little thing I say at face value?”
“Just one.”
“Good. Okay, so I need to talk with this woman who’s a forensic geologist
in the FBI lab. Tom was just trying to put me in touch with her when he—” My voice caught in my throat.
in the FBI lab. Tom was just trying to put me in touch with her when he—” My voice caught in my throat.
Tanya tucked the last bite of her cookie into her mouth and chewed it quickly. “Noreen Babcock. Sure, no problem. She’s a real smart lady, and almost as much of a loner as you are. You two would get along like a couple of stones in a rock garden. I’ll write down her number.”
BY THE TIME I got back to Faye’s house, I was in such an unstable mood that I figured it was best to avoid all contact with other human beings for as long as possible. I decided to stick my head into something intellectual, in the hope that I might push my wolf pack of feelings into a cave and roll a rock in front of it.
That something was my schoolwork. I was almost done with my coursework but it was true that to complete the degree I needed to write a thesis, and to write a thesis, I needed a research topic. Worse yet, research tended to cost money, and that was something I did not have. The tank was empty; I was getting by on fumes. I was getting free rent from Faye, and she was essentially feeding me, too. My mother was paying my tuition and sending the occasional check that covered books and bus fare and a little pocket change. Even this was a problem for me, not just because at age thirty-eight it hurt my pride to be hitting my mother for expenses, but also because she expected to be paid back.
As I opened my books to study, my brain ground once again through the problem of identifying a thesis project. I hoped to do something that involved trace materials, which meant soils and other fine sediments, the kinds of things that cling to a crime scene in such microscopic quantities that most criminals don’t notice they’re leaving evidence behind.
This term I was taking a full load of courses: Sedimentology, Soil Science, Meteorology, and Statistics. It was a real grind, but quite engrossing. Sedimentology was teaching me what kind of rock fragments wound up where, and why; Soil Science and Meteorology were teaching me how these sediments weathered into dirt, and why and where; and Statistics was teaching me how to put numbers and probabilities to the whole business. By the end of the semester, I’d have everything I needed to finish except the dreaded thesis. My advisor, Molly Chang, was beginning to roll her eyes every time she saw me coming.
I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. Perhaps I
could
make a thesis out of the job Tert was offering.
A painting is made of paint, which is made of pigments and a binder, and pigments are, after all, trace evidence. The key to documenting the forgery might be a matter of identifying the pigments, which were most likely ground-up bits of minerals. The trick would be to focus on the painting, and stay away from Tert Krehbeil and whatever’s going on with his family
.
could
make a thesis out of the job Tert was offering.
A painting is made of paint, which is made of pigments and a binder, and pigments are, after all, trace evidence. The key to documenting the forgery might be a matter of identifying the pigments, which were most likely ground-up bits of minerals. The trick would be to focus on the painting, and stay away from Tert Krehbeil and whatever’s going on with his family
.
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