Betrayals
Page 106
I hurried to the front window. “His car’s still here. Maybe he went to my apartment?”
“I checked. I gave him time to walk it off, but it’s been too long for that.”
“I’ll find him and call you back.”
I pocketed the phone and hurried to the back door. I was scooping up my shoes when I saw Gabriel in the garden, sitting on the ground, leaning back against the bench, blankets over his lap.
I tugged on my shoes and went out. I was sure he’d fallen asleep, but when I drew near, I could see his eyes were open. He just sat there, staring at the empty fishpond, hair tumbled over his forehead, not glancing up as I approached. Deeply lost in his thoughts.
I crouched beside him and said, “It’s cold. Come inside,” and he gave a start. Then he saw me, his gaze still unfocused. I waited for him to say no, he’d go to Rose’s. Or that he wanted his keys back. But when I told him to come in again, he only rose and followed.
I woke the next morning to the smell of breakfast and found Gabriel in my kitchen, cooking eggs. I didn’t say a word. Just walked in and sat at the table, and he poured me a coffee, and a minute later breakfast followed, my eggs done exactly as I liked them, toast made from Larry’s rye bread and topped with Veronica’s raspberry jam. Even my bacon was cooked exactly right.
Gabriel had asked why I stayed with him. Here was the answer: because he’d made me breakfast exactly as I liked it, and I didn’t even know he could cook it.
This is why I stay. Because no matter how frustrated I get, no matter how much I feel like I’m banging my head against a wall, I know that I am making progress. The man I met five months ago would have walked away without a backward glance. This time, when he couldn’t follow me inside, he’d settled in the garden instead. Then he cooked me breakfast as an apology.
“I hope you made some for yourself,” I said as he refilled my coffee.
He looked at the stove, and I could see there was nothing on it, and that was the real sign of how much things had changed, that this wasn’t even him making breakfast for us, just for me.
“I’m fine,” he said.
“At least have toast and sit with me.”
He put bread in the toaster, poured himself a coffee, and sat across from me. Then he cleared his throat. “Last night, when I asked why you put up with me—”
“It’s okay,” I said quickly.
“No, it’s not. I wasn’t being sarcastic. I just meant …” He struggled for words and settled on, “I didn’t mean it the way you thought.”
“Okay. So about this morning. We should—”
“I wanted to let you know …” he began, as if I hadn’t spoken, but that’s all he said. A few awkward moments of silence, then he repeated, “I want you to know …”
More silence.
“It’s okay,” I said.
“No, it’s not. This is important. I want to say that … that …”
The toast popped up, and he scrambled after it, a drowning man spotting a life preserver.
“Thank you for breakfast,” I said, as he silently buttered his toast at the counter.
He nodded and sliced it in two.
“Do you have any appointments today?” I asked, and there was another minute of quiet before he surrendered and said, “Yes, one at ten with a potential new client, and if you could be there, that would be helpful.”
“Sure. I have a few things I want to chase down today …”
I spent the morning at the office with Gabriel doing “real” work. The kind that pays the bills. That afternoon, Ricky would be meeting with Ioan to persuade the Cn Annwn to hunt down Aunika. He didn’t need me for that, so I’d pursue Aunika in my own way while Gabriel tackled more of the stuff that pays the bills.
When I’d exhausted my online work, I headed out to chase down leads. I’d made a list of people cross-referenced between Aunika’s social media and cell records. As I drove to the first address, I called Melanie. We’d given her a cell phone, so she wouldn’t feel overly isolated in Cainsville. We hadn’t splurged on voice mail, though, so when she didn’t answer, I called Veronica. I got her answering machine and left a message.
I was halfway to my first stop when Veronica called back.
“Melanie’s in Chicago,” Veronica said. “Have you tried her cell?”
“I have. When did she leave?”
“This morning. She wanted to speak to one other lamia and see if she’d talk to you in light of Damara’s death. I drove her in, and she said they’d get a ride back with you or Gabriel.”
“They?”
“She took Pepper, against my advice. She doesn’t quite trust us yet.”
I thanked Veronica, signed off, and called Melanie. Still no answer. I sent a text, saying I was glad she’d changed her mind about helping but really needed her to call me, or better yet, meet me at the office. Then I phoned to warn Gabriel, but he was in a meeting so I left a message with Lydia that if two teen-aged girls showed up, I’d be there soon.
When I arrived back at the office, I found my parking spot occupied, presumably by Gabriel’s client. I circled the block to the rear lot. There’s a walkway through to the back door of the greystone, but no drivable shortcut. I was getting out of the car when I heard running footfalls and turned to see Melanie tearing toward me, her eyes wide, hair flying loose from her braid.
“I checked. I gave him time to walk it off, but it’s been too long for that.”
“I’ll find him and call you back.”
I pocketed the phone and hurried to the back door. I was scooping up my shoes when I saw Gabriel in the garden, sitting on the ground, leaning back against the bench, blankets over his lap.
I tugged on my shoes and went out. I was sure he’d fallen asleep, but when I drew near, I could see his eyes were open. He just sat there, staring at the empty fishpond, hair tumbled over his forehead, not glancing up as I approached. Deeply lost in his thoughts.
I crouched beside him and said, “It’s cold. Come inside,” and he gave a start. Then he saw me, his gaze still unfocused. I waited for him to say no, he’d go to Rose’s. Or that he wanted his keys back. But when I told him to come in again, he only rose and followed.
I woke the next morning to the smell of breakfast and found Gabriel in my kitchen, cooking eggs. I didn’t say a word. Just walked in and sat at the table, and he poured me a coffee, and a minute later breakfast followed, my eggs done exactly as I liked them, toast made from Larry’s rye bread and topped with Veronica’s raspberry jam. Even my bacon was cooked exactly right.
Gabriel had asked why I stayed with him. Here was the answer: because he’d made me breakfast exactly as I liked it, and I didn’t even know he could cook it.
This is why I stay. Because no matter how frustrated I get, no matter how much I feel like I’m banging my head against a wall, I know that I am making progress. The man I met five months ago would have walked away without a backward glance. This time, when he couldn’t follow me inside, he’d settled in the garden instead. Then he cooked me breakfast as an apology.
“I hope you made some for yourself,” I said as he refilled my coffee.
He looked at the stove, and I could see there was nothing on it, and that was the real sign of how much things had changed, that this wasn’t even him making breakfast for us, just for me.
“I’m fine,” he said.
“At least have toast and sit with me.”
He put bread in the toaster, poured himself a coffee, and sat across from me. Then he cleared his throat. “Last night, when I asked why you put up with me—”
“It’s okay,” I said quickly.
“No, it’s not. I wasn’t being sarcastic. I just meant …” He struggled for words and settled on, “I didn’t mean it the way you thought.”
“Okay. So about this morning. We should—”
“I wanted to let you know …” he began, as if I hadn’t spoken, but that’s all he said. A few awkward moments of silence, then he repeated, “I want you to know …”
More silence.
“It’s okay,” I said.
“No, it’s not. This is important. I want to say that … that …”
The toast popped up, and he scrambled after it, a drowning man spotting a life preserver.
“Thank you for breakfast,” I said, as he silently buttered his toast at the counter.
He nodded and sliced it in two.
“Do you have any appointments today?” I asked, and there was another minute of quiet before he surrendered and said, “Yes, one at ten with a potential new client, and if you could be there, that would be helpful.”
“Sure. I have a few things I want to chase down today …”
I spent the morning at the office with Gabriel doing “real” work. The kind that pays the bills. That afternoon, Ricky would be meeting with Ioan to persuade the Cn Annwn to hunt down Aunika. He didn’t need me for that, so I’d pursue Aunika in my own way while Gabriel tackled more of the stuff that pays the bills.
When I’d exhausted my online work, I headed out to chase down leads. I’d made a list of people cross-referenced between Aunika’s social media and cell records. As I drove to the first address, I called Melanie. We’d given her a cell phone, so she wouldn’t feel overly isolated in Cainsville. We hadn’t splurged on voice mail, though, so when she didn’t answer, I called Veronica. I got her answering machine and left a message.
I was halfway to my first stop when Veronica called back.
“Melanie’s in Chicago,” Veronica said. “Have you tried her cell?”
“I have. When did she leave?”
“This morning. She wanted to speak to one other lamia and see if she’d talk to you in light of Damara’s death. I drove her in, and she said they’d get a ride back with you or Gabriel.”
“They?”
“She took Pepper, against my advice. She doesn’t quite trust us yet.”
I thanked Veronica, signed off, and called Melanie. Still no answer. I sent a text, saying I was glad she’d changed her mind about helping but really needed her to call me, or better yet, meet me at the office. Then I phoned to warn Gabriel, but he was in a meeting so I left a message with Lydia that if two teen-aged girls showed up, I’d be there soon.
When I arrived back at the office, I found my parking spot occupied, presumably by Gabriel’s client. I circled the block to the rear lot. There’s a walkway through to the back door of the greystone, but no drivable shortcut. I was getting out of the car when I heard running footfalls and turned to see Melanie tearing toward me, her eyes wide, hair flying loose from her braid.
