Surviving Valencia (24 page)

Frisky was so happy to see us that it almost made me like him. He lounged around with either Adrian or me for the next couple days, as we avoided each other.

Three days after the fake romantic getaway, Adrian was in his studio working and I was in the backyard reading a book when I heard Frisky going crazy, barking and growling in the front yard. Adrian and I met each other at the front door, both of us checking to see what was the matter. Standing at our front gate were two men, both wearing plain black suits. They showed us their badges.

“I’m Detective Stoller and this is Detective Heinz. May we have a word with you?”

Frisky lunged at them through the gate.

“Yes,” said Adrian, “but you’ll have to let us put our dog in the house.”

“Do you both need to do that?” asked Detective Heinz.

“Well, sometimes it takes both of us, but no, I can do it on my own today,” joked Adrian.

I waited until they were inside and let the men in the gate.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Mind if we sit down?” asked Detective Heinz, settling onto a wicker chair on our front porch.

“May I offer y’all some tea?” I asked, trying to distract them with some Southern hospitality.

“No thank you, Mrs. Corbis,” said Detective Stoller. “This is not a social call.”

I primly sat down, breathing as evenly as possible. I felt a tickling trickle of sweat moving down my temple along my hairline, and I couldn’t stop myself from brushing at it.

Detective Stoller sat down and then Adrian took the final place on the loveseat beside me.

Detective Heinz started right in. “Are you familiar with anyone by the name of Jeb Wilde?” he asked.

“I am,” I said immediately, afraid that Adrian would spin some elaborate tale if I didn’t take over.

“How do you know Jeb Wilde?” asked Detective Stoller.

“I hired him. To look into some questions I had about my family. Is there something wrong with Jeb?”

“Well, he went missing,” said Detective Heinz, “and it seems that he was looking into an assignment for you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was doing this,” I said to Adrian. “It’s just, I thought that you would stop me.” Then I turned back to the detectives, “I’ve been trying to get a hold of Jeb, but he stopped answering my calls. I think he might have skipped town. I paid him a lot of money and he’s just some guy I found on the Internet. Maybe he’s not even a real private investigator.”

“How much did you pay him?” asked Adrian.

“Honey…”

“Do your wives spend like mine does?” he asked the detectives. “She spends it faster than I can make it!”

“I hear you,” chuckled Detective Heinz.

“Well, he’s not licensed,” said Detective Stoller, “but he
was
working on your case. He told his ladyfriend he was going to Minneapolis and when she didn’t hear from him, she found this note where he wrote down some names. Your name was first on the list. Do you mind if I ask what you were having him try to figure out for you?”

“I had some questions about my sister and brother who were in a car accident when I was a little girl.” I began crying. “I’d rather not go into that, please.”

“Okay, sorry to have upset you, ma’am,” said Detective Heinz.

“Do any of these names mean anything to you?” asked Detective Stoller, reading my mother’s maiden name, the name of the man who turned out to be Valencia and Van’s real father, and then the name John Spade.

“Patricia is my mother,” I said, jumping on that and not letting go. “Please don’t involve her in this! She’ll be so upset. It’s taken her years to get over it. I mean, really, she still isn’t over it.”

“Please,” said Adrian, “I hate to have you upsetting my wife in the condition she’s in.”

“I am… with child,” I whispered through my tears.

“We’re sorry to upset you,” said Detective Heinz, his voice softening.

“Please don’t involve my mother in this,” I repeated. “I only got in touch with Jeb because I’ve been thinking so much about family now that we’re expecting. You gentlemen must understand.”

The detectives nodded appreciatively.

“I don’t know what’s become of Jeb, but Adrian and I will let you know anything we find out,” I promised. “Just please don’t go upsetting my mother over any of this.”

“No, no. There’s no need to get her involved,” said Detective Stoller. “Well, you’ve been helpful. Let us know if you hear from Mr. Wilde,” he said, handing Adrian a card. Then he scratched his head and said, “Hey, you’re that artist I read about in the paper, aren’t you?”

“That’s me,” said Adrian.

“Love your work. I hear Salma Hayek has your paintings in her living room. Did you ever meet her?”

“Just a couple times. She’s really down-to-earth.”

“I could drink that woman’s bathwater.”

Adrian nodded and winked, man-to-man, while I dabbed at my face with the back of my hand.

“We’ll let you folks get back to your day off now. Thanks, y’all,” said Detective Heinz.

We waved goodbye.

“Why, if you work at home, does everyone always assume you have the day off?” asked Adrian, as they drove away.

“That’s great that you’re finding this so amusing,” I said, straightening the porch furniture.

“You handled it all quite calmly yourself. It was a great performance.
I’m… with… child…
” he mocked.

“You’re the one who told them about my condition.”

“I was going for the sympathy vote.”

“You think you can charm your way out of anything, but sometimes, Adrian, charm isn’t enough. That’s really fabulous that this little encounter has left you feeling so confident, but I’m not. Not at all. I’m… rattled.”

“Relax,” he said, reaching out to embrace me.

I marched inside, slamming the door behind me. He followed behind me, reaching for me, but I jerked my shoulder out of his reach. I stomped over to
Shabby Chic for Modern Homes
and shook it out on the kitchen table. I grabbed the contents and edged them up into a reasonably tidy pile, holding the letters and photos to my chest. I felt a little crazy.

“What do you have there?” asked Adrian.

“Uh uh,” I said, shaking my head. “Stay away from me.” I lit a candle and began by burning the photo of Jeb. Next I took the envelopes, first removing the photos, and lit them all on fire. They made an enormous flame which I held as long as possible before tossing them in the kitchen sink and dousing them with water.

I threw down the pictures of Adrian with the mystery woman. “Who is this?” I asked. “Not that it really matters. Not that something like a minor infidelity even matters anymore, but tell me, who is she?”

He picked up one of the photos and squinted a little. “A woman named Jane Gilligan. She owns a gallery in Charleston and I met with her last winter. It’s just a picture meant as a… threat, I suppose. I already told you I got mail like this. So you’ve been opening everything and hiding it from me? Why would you do this when I already told you I was getting things like this?”

“Because by the time you told me that, I knew it wasn’t just some stupid stalker. How could you have gone to the police? What happened to ‘the police aren’t God, don’t get the police involved.’ Huh? What happened to that?”

“I thought this was something else back then,” he said.

“We need to tell each other what we know, Adrian. Because it’s obvious you knew who John Spade was, and I want to know how.”

“I didn’t know him.”

“How is the handwriting and postmark on the letter with you and this woman the same as the letter with Jeb’s picture?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Adrian, please! We are in serious trouble.”

“Everything is going to be fine.”

“This handwriting is totally recognizable, and the police have it on letters
you
gave them. You don’t think they’re going to see the same writing in John Spade’s apartment and put two and two together? You don’t think they’re going to come back?”

“So what does it prove? That he was harassing us?”

“Adrian, there’s just too many loose ends! How can you be so calm?”

“Just relax. You’re pregnant, remember? You have to relax.”

Next I showed him the pictures of Valencia. “Explain these. How are you involved? Where is she?”

When he saw those, all color drained from his face.

“Where did you get this?” he asked, pulling it from my fingers.

“It came in the mail. From John Spade.”

He looked at it, and then leaned his head back, defeated. Then he picked up the piece of paper that had been wrapped around them.

ADRIAN CORBIS, The past ALWAYS catches up with you. It’s only fair…
 

“Tell me how you’re connected to this,” I said.

He didn’t speak.

“Talk to me!”

“How could you have kept this from me?” he asked, setting the photos down on the table. His green eyes were nearly black with anger.

“
You’re
mad at
me
? You’ve got to be joking.”

“So these came in the mail and you didn’t even think to tell me? We’re lucky to be alive. Do you realize that? You saw these, yet you said nothing? You don’t make any sense sometimes.” He looked at the postmark on the envelope. “These pictures came all the way back in June! And there we were, asleep with the windows open, no fence, no dog. Jesus Christ!”

“Adrian, how dare you turn this around on me! I almost turned you in to the police. What was I supposed to think? Tell me why this letter came for you.”

He walked out of the kitchen, into the hallway, into the living room. I followed him, waiting for him to say something. He sat down on the chair in the living room and put his head in his hands.

“How are you involved in this, Adrian?”

“I didn’t hurt her,” he said weakly, looking at me with tears in his eyes.

“Were you there?”

Again, he was silent.

“I mean, you weren’t seriously involved in this. Right?”

He exhaled and it sounded like something deflating.

“I need to know what happened,” I said.

“I got involved in something I shouldn’t have. I would
never
have hurt your sister. You
know
that. Tell me you know that.”

“I don’t know anything anymore.”

“Baby,” he said, reaching for me, but I took a step backward.

“She’s dead, of course. Right?” I whispered.

“Listen,” he said. “Please listen…” But he trailed off.

“Did you rape her?”

“God no!”

“She’s all taped up. Why did you do that?” My voice was small and faraway.

“I didn’t do that. Let me explain.”

“Okay. Explain.”

“My family was staying at my aunt’s in Red Wing, and I decided to go out for a drink to get a little space. I ran into John Spade at the bar. I knew him because we both worked at the same landscaping company the summer before I went to college. He was my supervisor. It was just bad luck that I ran into him. He was nuts, just kind of a freak, and I knew that. I didn’t know he was… you know,
crazy
.

“We started drinking and then we started driving around in his truck. It was late, probably close to midnight, and he saw a little car with a guy and a pretty girl in it.

“John started to drive really close behind them. It was raining, well, sleeting really, and it was really slippery out. His truck had one of those row bars on it and he turned the lights on. It lit up the whole road. I think he was just trying to mess with them, but they lost control. They started fishtailing and everything was really bright, and we were up in that truck, just watching it happening.

“The guy got thrown from the car, but when we pulled over and looked, he was still alive. I wanted to go get help, but John hit him on the head with a rock. I don’t know why he did it. The girl had her seatbelt on and she was fine. Not even a mark on her. Then John grabbed her and started tying her up with a roll of tape he had in his truck. I told him to stop. I was so drunk it all seemed like a bad dream. He put her in his truck and then he pushed their car into the river.”

“He pushed their car into the river?” I interrupted. “With his
hands
?”

“I helped him do that,” said Adrian. “I had to. I didn’t know what he would do to me if I didn’t help him. The car was on a hill and it just rolled right down in. The sleet had turned to snow and it was like a blizzard. It was all such a bad dream.

“I told him to leave me there and I would walk back to the bar, so he left me. It was snowing like crazy, the whole way back. It probably took me two hours to walk back. I was afraid someone would see me but it was late and there weren’t any cars. I almost froze to death. Finally I made it back to my car and went back to my aunt’s. Everyone was asleep so I went to bed. It was the worst night of my life. I just put it behind me.”