Finding Isadora (24 page)

“
Hmm.” Gabriel rose and walked over to the desk, where he scribbled a note. When he sat down again he said, “I’ll check out Cosmystiques, especially their financial situation. The animal rights picketing and the initialed lighter have had everyone—me included—focused on Jimmy Lee. But the first thing you usually think about when there’s an arson is whether the building owner did it.”

“
Wouldn’t the police have already checked into that?”

“
Should have, but maybe not. They’re fixated on Jimmy Lee.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Besides, they’d figure a big company would hire a professional arsonist who’d use propane.”

“
So you’re thinking Cosmystiques might have hired a pro, but the pro chose a mickey-mouse method and planted the lighter to frame Jimmy Lee?”

“
Might’ve even skipped the pro. It’d be way cheaper—and more satisfying—to check the Internet, pick an amateur method, set up a guy who’s been pissing you off.” He tossed me a flash of smile. “Good thought, Isadora.”

“
Actually, it was your thought.” I grinned at him. “I just opened the starting gate.”

I thought about what he
’d said. “I do hope Cosmystiques’ business has been hurting. We have a huge poster in our clinic listing the names of cosmetic companies that use animals in their testing. I’d bet not many of our clients ever buy those products again.”

“
That’s great.” He tilted his head and studied me for a long moment, and I sensed his thoughts had left the case and moved somewhere else. “I get it that you love animals. I can see why you want to help them. But it has to be hard, putting them down.”

For a few minutes I
’d actually forgotten about Valente. I shivered. “Yes. It’s always hard, even when it’s the merciful thing to do. Other times though, it’s really horrible. Euthanizing an animal that could still live a relatively full life without a great deal of pain.”

“
But then why would you put it down?”

“
The owners want it. The animal is old, incontinent, blind.” We tried to find other homes for the animals, but they were hard to place.

He closed his eyes tight for a moment.
“Makes you wonder what people like that will do with their loved ones when they get old and sick.”

I blinked, surprised that this man—the father who had neglected his own son—was sensitive enough to see the analogy, and to be disturbed by it.
“I agree. Especially when these animals have been part of their families for years and years.”

Quietly, I went on
. “The opposite end of the spectrum is difficult, too. The people who love their animals so deeply it’s almost impossible for them to conceive of having their pets euthanized. In lots of cases, with older folks, the pet’s their closest friend and companion, their daily source of love. They desperately want to keep the animal alive but if the creature’s in serious pain, they realize they’re being selfish. An animal, just like a human being, ought to be allowed to end its life with dignity.”

“
I saw that tonight. That’s why you named her.”

I studied him, then asked, as I had earlier,
“Are you okay, Gabriel?”

He sighed.
“Yes. Now I am. But it was a shock. Finding Valente and then … the rest of it.”

The man had struck me as so macho and confident, it surprised me he
’d admit to feelings of vulnerability. I wanted to tell him how much I respected him for staying with me and Valente when I performed the procedure, but I was afraid of getting too personal.

Seeking a safe topic, I glanced around the room. When I saw the guitar I immediately looked away. Gabriel playing the guitar was definitely not safe. Instead I focused on the paintings.
“You like art?”

“
Yeah. I admire creativity. It makes an important contribution to society. Every culture, no matter how primitive or spartan, has valued it.”

“
That’s true.”

“
I get so caught up in my work, sometimes I need to remind myself that creativity and beauty really do exist.”

His comment had given me another surprising insight into his personality.
“I’ve always had beauty in my life. Because of Grace, mainly. My parents have never had much money, but Grace has a way of making things special. When she buys used clothing she never picks a plain beige shirt, she’ll get a bright turquoise one or, even better, an embroidered or woven one.”

“
She’s a fine woman. The name Grace suits her perfectly.”

Damn it, was he seriously attracted to my mother? When he looked at Grace, did his eyes hold that same passionate intensity I
’d glimpsed in them when he looked at me?

The expression his eyes held now, as he said,
“And what about your name? From the dancer, Isadora Duncan?”

“
You know who she is?” Richard hadn’t. Most people my age had never heard of her unless they were involved in the dance world.

“
Vaguely. A free spirit. She was into free-flowing dance, wasn’t she?”

“
Mm-hmm. The beauty of the human body in natural motion. Some people consider her the founder of modern dance. But in her times—the early 1900s—she was shocking with her unconventional movements and her flowing Grecian draperies.”

“
And are you a free spirit, a risk-taker, like your namesake?”

I shook my head nervously.
“Not at all. I’m the opposite. I want all the things I didn’t have when I was growing up. A real house, with the mortgage paid. Proper furniture and lots of food in the cupboards. Financial security for the rest of my life.”

Gabriel
’s features tightened as I spoke. “Hmm. I can see why you and Richard get along. He’s like his mother when it comes to that stuff.” When he said
that stuff
, he waved a careless hand, dismissing in one gesture all the things I held so important.

I tried to ignore the insult, not sure he
’d intended it any more than I’d meant, with my comments about a house and security, to offend him. “Do you see anything of yourself in Richard?” I asked curiously.

His face darkened.

Suddenly, I remembered. How could I have forgotten that Richard had planned to talk to his father today?

“
Sorry, I…” I started, then didn’t know how to finish.

But I didn
’t have to. Gabriel scowled. “He told you.”

“
Last week,” I admitted.

“
And you said he should find out who his real father is.” His tone was flat.

“
I didn’t tell him what he should do, just listened. Although I can see his point about wanting to know if there are any genetic problems.”

He sent me a challenging glare.
“So Richard’s not good enough for you unless he has a certified Grade A sticker on him?”

“
No! I love Richard exactly the way he is. He was the one who wanted to do this.” I eyed Gabriel warily. “I guess it was pretty hard for you, hearing … everything.”

The glare had faded as I spoke and now he dropped his head.
“Hard. Yeah, you could say it was hard. I’ve always thought of myself as his father. I might have been—I
was
—a rotten one, but he’s always been my son.”

“
You never had a clue that Diane, uh…”

“
Was lying when she said she knew the kid was mine?” He jerked to his feet and began to pace. “No. What an idiot, eh? I took her at her word.”

“
It was unforgivable, what she did.”

“
Damn it, she trapped me. I didn’t want a permanent relationship with
her
, much less a kid.”

“
She wanted to do the best thing for her child,” I suggested tentatively.

“
The best? Me?” He gave a bitter laugh. “Doesn’t say much for her judgment.”

Richard had said almost the identical thing.
“So … how do you feel, now you know?”

“
Furious. I could strangle the woman.” His anger was so strong it was almost a tangible force in the room.

“
Are you mad at Richard, too?”

“
Richard?” He paused in his pacing to frown at me. “It wasn’t his fault.”

Relieved that he realized it, I said,
“Would it have changed anything if you’d found out earlier on, like when he was a baby?”

He strode a few steps, more slowly this time, as if reflecting.
“When Diane was pregnant, yes. Maybe even in the first couple of weeks after Richard was born. But not after that. He was my son. That’s how I felt about him.”

“
What do you mean?”

He stared at me for a long moment and I wasn
’t sure he was going to answer.

The security buzzer sounded, and Gabriel strode over to push the release button. He glanced over his shoulder at me.
“I loved him. I still do.” Then he opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

Again the man had surprised me. I
’d kind of assumed he loved Richard in his fashion—to me it was almost inconceivable that a parent wouldn’t love their child—but I was astonished he’d told me. Maybe he’d done it because I was going to marry Richard.

Had he ever told Richard he loved him? If so, Richard hadn
’t believed him.

Gabriel paid for the pizza, then came back and slid the flat box onto the crate-table. When he opened the lid, the tantalizing aroma made me sniff deeply, appreciatively. I began to rise, thinking to get plates and napkins, but he
’d already pulled a slice of pizza free and was handing it to me. I shrugged and took it in one hand, cupping the other underneath as I lifted the slice to my mouth. “Mmm, that’s good.”

He
’d pulled his chair up to the table and freed his own wedge of pizza. “Chinese owners. Make the best pizza in the neighborhood.”

“
Who makes the best Chinese food?” I asked around enthusiastic nibbles.

“
Billy Chew. A friend of mine. And yes, he
is
Chinese.”

“
Does he own a restaurant?”

“
Nope. Just cooks for family and friends. He’s a program director at the Multicultural Center. Cooks there sometimes too, just for fun. We get multiple seatings for supper those days. Can’t get the staff and volunteers to go home when their shifts are over.”

He finished his slice of pizza, frowned at his greasy fingers, and headed for the kitchen. He returned with a roll of paper towels, which he tossed on the table beside the pizza box. After wiping his fingers he refilled our wine glasses and took another slice of pizza.

The atmosphere in the room was certainly more relaxed, but I wished our previous conversation hadn’t been interrupted. Dare I re-open the subject?

While I was debating he finished his second slice and said,
“You’re falling behind.”

Obediently I took a second slice while he took his third.
“So, uh, did you agree to have the DNA test?” I asked cautiously.

“
Richard hasn’t told you?”

“
No. I haven’t talked to him today. He said he’d be busy with an important merger.”

“
Guess I should be flattered he found time to call his—” Gabriel’s tone was ironic and he broke off before the final word.
Father
. “Think the last time he asked me for something was when he invited me to his law school grad and I let him down. Yeah, of course I agreed. Besides, it’s his right to know.”

“
Yours too,” I pointed out.

“
Not sure I want to.”

I wiped my fingers on a paper towel and picked up my glass.
“I can sympathize. It would be a hard adjustment to make after twenty-five years of believing he was yours.”

“
He’ll tell me, though.”

“
Why do you say that?”

“
If I’m not his father, he has a perfect excuse for blowing me off.”

This wasn
’t my business and yet each of them had chosen to discuss it with me. Richard had been badly hurt by what he perceived as his father’s neglect, and Gabriel had confessed to being a rotten father, yet I could see he, too, was hurt. Hurt by the fact that the son he loved might want to disown him. If they were both hurting, maybe there was hope.

Studying Gabriel over the top of my wine glass, I wondered how he could be so committed to helping the disadvantaged people in society, yet seem unable to reach out to someone he loved. Tentatively I said,
“It sounds like you’re leaving it all in Richard’s hands.”

He stared at me over the top of his pizza slice.
“Say what?”

“
You agreed to the test because he wanted it, which is good of you. But you’re letting the future of your relationship depend on his reaction to the results.”