All Through the Night (18 page)
W
ayne heard the knock on the office door from a very great distance. A gentle rumble of a voice said, “This dude is out for the count.”
“Is he decent?”
“Can’t answer that one. But he slept with his clothes on.”
“Wayne?”
The tendrils of his last dream reluctantly let go. But the instant he opened his eyes, he could not remember what he had been dreaming.
Tatyana wore dark leggings and a loose-fitting top knit from clouds that hung almost to her knees. She wore no makeup. Her hair was caught in a silver clasp. Her face was oval with cheek-bones slanted like her eyes. He had never noticed that before.
“It’s just gone eight.”
He pushed himself upright and rubbed his face. He could not think of anything to say. His entire world had room for just one thing.
Tatyana seated herself beside him and handed him a mug. “Jerry said you took your coffee black.”
He mouthed thanks but could not give it enough air. His breath caught a hint of her fragrance, clean skin and soap and flowers. He felt his heart catch at her seated there beside him, while he sipped from the mug and struggled to knit his barriers back into place.
He slipped his feet back into his shoes and took another sip. “I was dreaming.”
“What about?”
“I can’t remember.” He sipped again. “Given the state of some of my dreams, that’s probably a good thing.”
“I always told people I never dreamed. But it was a lie. I dream all the time. Mostly about things I wish I could leave behind forever.”
“I just have one bad dream. But I have it a lot.”
She used one finger to trace her hairline along her forehead and down behind her left ear. With the blinds closed and one lamp burning, her eyes were one shade off slate. The flecks were soft bronze buried deep inside. “I don’t know which would be worse.”
“Aren’t you going to work?”
“Not until this is over. I spoke with Easton and he agrees. Foster’s disappearance changes everything.”
He had so much he wanted to say to her, the words became clogged in his throat. He sipped from the mug, but the obstacle would not dislodge.
Jerry stepped through the office’s open door. “There’s a razor on the bathroom sink, you don’t mind using it after me.”
Tatyana rose with him. “Easton called. The data you requested is online.”
“You stay and work,” Jerry said. “I can go pick up Julio on my own.”
Wayne handed him the keys. “Any word?”
“Not a peep.” Jerry looked from one of them to the other. Then he smiled. Jerry was not a smiler and the gesture surprised Wayne. His entire face reshaped itself, creases vanished, his forehead cleared, his eyes grew brighter.
Jerry said, “It does my old heart good.”
Wayne stood there in the doorway as Jerry turned and left. He heard the former cop’s footfalls across the front hall. Wayne walked into the bathroom and shut the door. He turned on the water, then just stood there, listening to the water drown out whatever noise Tatyana might be making. His eyes stared back out of a face that might have been handsome. He had heard that from people, but he couldn’t tell. His eyes said it all—what a shame it was that his one remaining friend could read the moment so wrong.
When he came out of the bathroom, Tatyana stood in the living room with the phone to her ear. “He’s here now. Yes. I’ll put him on. All right. We’ll be waiting.”
She walked over and handed him the phone. “It’s Easton for you.”
“Good morning.”
The company president asked, “Did you sleep?”
“Some.”
“Me too. Miracles do happen. Have you looked at the files yet?”
Tatyana motioned with his empty mug. Wayne nodded yes. He said, “I was just going to get started.”
“I went over them again. Like I said, there’s not much. The one thing that jumps out at me is Trace.”
“The guy on the disciplinary board.”
“He’s also on the board of the Triton partnerships. All of them.”
Wayne walked over to the computer and sat down. “Trace Neally, your friend for twenty years.”
“I called him this morning. He’s working from home today. I said you wanted to speak with him. He wanted to wait and meet you tomorrow in Orlando. I said this was urgent. I hope that’s all right.”
“No. This is good.”
“He lives just south of Naples, someplace called Lantern Island.” He rattled off the address. “Hello?”
Wayne watched Tatyana walk over and deposit the cup on her desk. “Lantern Island. I know it.”
“Call me as soon as you leave his place, will you? The walls are closing in over here.” Easton paused, then added, “It meant a lot talking to you last night. I pray for patience, but my mind keeps racing like a hamster on its little wheel. I’ve never been good at being still. I worry about Foster, about my daughter … I wonder if I left the house if it would all just go away.”
“You sit tight. I’ll call you soon as we know something.”
When he clicked off, Tatyana asked, “What’s the matter?”
Wayne handed her the phone. “More and more.”
Jerry Barnes pulled into the parking lot of Eilene’s church and had to search for a free spot. Eight-thirty on a weekday morning and the place was packed. He saw a flood of school-aged kids headed to a building beside the basketball court. A larger tide of women headed into the main building. He followed them, slightly uncomfortable being the only man in sight.
He found Julio standing in the doorway talking with Eilene. The pastor hugged the overgrown kid who was as tall as she, and was rewarded with a bashful grin. Julio became more embarrassed when he spotted Jerry approaching, but Eilene refused to let him go. Instead, she said, “The kid here hit a home run with the bases loaded.”
“I didn’t know you played baseball.”
“We’re talking about the only game that matters.” She hugged him harder. “Right, brother?”
Jerry asked, “You got saved last night?”
Julio muttered to the floor at his feet, “Miss Victoria, she’s been talking to me.”
“Yeah, that lady’s got a place on God’s front line, I’m sure of that,” Eilene agreed. “But this is about you, right? You’re the one who found the courage to step forward and commit. How cool is that?”
“Loosen up there,” Jerry said. “Let the kid breathe on his own, why don’t you.”
Eilene let him go. “Way to rock, Julio.”
“I left my stuff in the hall.”
“I’ll wait for you right here.” When the kid trotted off, Jerry said, “I’ve never seen you this happy.”
“Hey. My brother, the guy who made a profession of skipping town, is not just back and helping me out, he’s
committed.
He
prayed
with me. I handed him the worst kid we got, a case so tough I was this close to barring Julio from ever coming back on church property. And what happens, but the kid turns around.”
“Like Julio said, Victoria was the one who twisted the screws.”
“You think a barrio kid would’ve listened to some old white-bread lady on his own?” She pointed at the world beyond the sun-splashed exit. “Wayne is everything this kid dreams of becoming, if he can manage to live that long. A true-blue warrior. A strong stand-up guy who
cares.
Julio listened to Victoria because Wayne listened first.”
She dropped her arm. “What about you, Jerry? You ready to make the long walk home?”
He held both hands protectively in front of him. “Quit while you’re ahead, sister.”
“No way. I’m aiming for a clean sweep here.” She turned serious, which meant going softer. “I was watching you when we started praying. Dropping those barriers you think nobody sees. What’s
with
you?”
He scouted the empty hall for his excuse. “I got to go.”
“One question, one answer. Is that so hard?”
Matter of fact. “My wife was into the church thing fulltime.”
“The
church
thing.” Eilene was no longer smiling.
“She got sick. We went through all the regular stuff. Nothing helped. We started trying other things, treatments that weren’t covered by our insurance. Went through our savings in nothing flat. Mortgaged the house. Spent that too.”
“Then she died,” Eilene said softly. “Leaving you broke and alone and stuck in a place with nothing to do but serve your time.”
Jerry shrugged like it didn’t matter. “Seems kinda strange, us standing here talking about things that don’t matter while Foster’s still gone.”
“It matters,” Eilene replied. “It matters a lot.”
Julio came pounding around the corner. He stopped and looked at one face, then the other. “What’s happened?”
“You big, sweet, gentle bear.” Eilene closed the impossible distance and hugged Jerry. “I’ll be praying for you. Hard as I know how.”
The sunlight and the humidity turned the asphalt silver-white. Wayne rode with Tatyana in her rented car. Jerry drove Julio in Wayne’s truck. When Tatyana had suggested they take two cars to Lantern Island, Jerry had smiled and said simply, “Sure.” Julio had remained caught up in something beneath the surface of his opaque stare and did not speak.
Tatyana said, “I need to ask you something.”
She had printed out all the pages on Triton. Wayne had finished going over them before Jerry had returned with Julio in tow. He had them spread out in his lap now, sifting through the data a second time. He had forgotten to get his sunglasses out of the truck before they left Orlando. But that was not why he refused to lift his gaze. “Fire away.”
“All yesterday and now today I feel like you are angry with me.”
“It’s not you.” He hated how the strain caused her accent to thicken. “It’s nothing.”
“Don’t tell me that. I know it’s something. You won’t even look at me. How can it be nothing?”
“Tatyana, please.”
“Please what? Tell me what I’ve done.”
The childlike tone of this woman beside him melted the stone he had carried in his chest since forever. “It’s me, Tatyana. It’s us.”
“Us?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t like me?”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Why shouldn’t you like me, Wayne? Am I such a horrible person you can’t like me?”
He raised his eyes because he had to. Beyond the window was flat Florida wilderness. The Florida of cattle ranches and horse farms and black-water rivers. “You know that’s not it.”
“You said we were always friends, yes? Do friends not talk in your world?”
“They talk.”
“That’s all I’m asking.”
“You will heal. You will go back into your world of rich people with classy jobs and flashy cars. You’ll talk about smart things with other successful types.” His breath fogged the side window. “I don’t belong there. I’m me. Sergeant Wayne Grusza. One of life’s born losers.”
“Stop.”
“What would you say to those people in the boardroom? How this guy you know, he slept rough for almost two years?”
“Wayne, listen to me. I hate those things.”
“No, Tatyana. No. You
belong
there.”
“I will
never
belong.”
His smile felt false even on the inside. “Sure thing.”
“Sometime soon I will tell you just how wrong you are. But not now. Because I can’t speak of these things without weeping. Me. Tatyana Kuchik. Belonging.” Her voice did not alter. But her neck was locked taut in her determined battle for control, and the skin of her wrists and hands were chalk-white where she gripped the wheel. “I will tell you how I felt as a child. I will explain just how horrible it was in that orphanage, and what my beauty cost me. I will describe how I returned to those exact same feelings when my husband cheated on me. How I tried to belong to that world for him, and how I failed. How it was all a lie.”