Betrayal (29 page)

“I love you too, Tallie,” he said gently, and then he drifted off to sleep and she could hear him snoring gently. She smiled to herself and fell asleep, lying on the deck chair near him. It was an easy, peaceful morning, and she felt as close to him as she always did, and so grateful to have him in her life. She woke up after a while, and gently took her hand away. He had stopped snoring, and looked as though he were sleeping peacefully in the deck
chair,
and then with a start, she realized he wasn’t breathing at all. She put her fingers to his neck to check for a pulse, and there was none, and suddenly she felt frantic, with no idea how long it had been since he had stopped breathing, a minute or an hour. She shouted to Amelia in the living room to call 911, and then with all her strength, she scooped her father up in her arms and laid him on the grass, and began giving him mouth-to-mouth, but he was lifeless. She gently tried to compress his chest and continue breathing for him, and after an eternity she could hear sirens in the distance, and suddenly there were men in paramedics’ uniforms beside her and they took over, as Tallie knelt on the grass watching them and crying.

They stopped after a few minutes, and the chief paramedic helped her to her feet and took her inside while the others covered her father. “I’m sorry. He looks as though he died peacefully,” he said gently. Tallie was overwhelmed with wracking sobs as she listened. She couldn’t imagine a life without her father in it. And she realized that everything he had said that morning had been a goodbye to her, even his last “I love you,” as he drifted off to sleep forever, still holding her hand, and she had been able to say the same to him for one last time.

“He was asleep,” she said, choking on a sob. “Thank you … I’m sorry …” The paramedic patted her arm and went back to the garden. They had put her father on a gurney, covered him completely, and were rolling him to a police ambulance outside. There was a fire truck and a rescue truck in front of the house with them. And her father’s housekeeper put her arms around her and cried with her.

The head of the paramedics came back inside to ask her some questions. Her father’s name, his age, what illnesses he’d been suffering from, but essentially it was just old age and what he himself referred to as “the machinery wearing down.” He had never had any serious illnesses, and he had never loved any woman other than her mother, or anyone in the world as much as his daughter, and she knew it.

“Where would you like us to take him?” She looked at him blankly, with no idea what to say. “We can take him to the morgue until you decide,” he said gently and she looked horrified.

“No! No! … please … just give me a minute …” She got her phone out of her bag and called information for the phone number of a funeral home where she’d been to several funerals. Her father had never been religious, but she wanted a church ceremony and a Christian burial, since he had been born Protestant, but first they needed a funeral home.

They were instantly attentive when they answered, sounded unnervingly calm, assured her they would take care of everything, and told her what to tell the paramedics. And she could come in and discuss arrangements with them afterward. They assured her they would do everything to help her. They had recognized her name immediately, and were used to celebrities and their families and assured her of their utmost discretion. Talking to them was the kind of thing that Brigitte would have done for her before, and now she had no one to help her.

When she finished speaking to the funeral home, Tallie went outside to speak to the paramedics and told them where to take
her
father. She gave them the name of the home and the address, and they assured her that they were familiar with it, and told her again how sorry they were. She could see his still form covered by a blanket on the gurney in the ambulance, and she stood for a long silent moment, crying. Just moments before he’d been next to her, telling her he loved her, and now he was gone. She had known this would happen one day, but she hadn’t expected it to happen so soon and with no warning. She wasn’t ready for it.

She watched the ambulance and the emergency vehicles pull away and walked back into his house. Amelia was crying too, and they held each other for a long moment.

“I thought he was just tired,” Tallie said, blaming herself. “I should have called the doctor this morning.”

“It was his time,” the kind Salvadoran woman said. She had loved Tallie’s father too. “He’s been so tired lately. I think he was ready.” Tallie didn’t want to believe that, but she knew it was true. And now she had no father. She had lost so many people she loved lately, and he most important of all. Now Tallie had no one, not even her father, only Max.

“But I wasn’t ready for this,” Tallie said sadly as she went back to the garden to find her sandals, and she saw his hat lying on the grass and burst into tears again. She wanted to go home, it was too sad being here, and then she had to go to the funeral home to make arrangements. And she knew she had to call Max and tell her, and she was dreading it. She would be heartbroken too.

Tallie told Amelia she could go home, it had been upsetting for her too. She could come back on Monday and tidy up. Tallie
would
have to figure out what to do about his house, and go through his things. She felt as though she had nothing but painful jobs to do now, and she was glad she had finished the picture so she didn’t have to worry about that too.

She and the housekeeper hugged again, and Tallie left. She felt so distracted she could hardly drive. It seemed impossible to believe that on the way there that morning her father had been alive, and now he wasn’t. It had all ended so quickly, but painlessly for him at least. She was grateful it had been peaceful. But she felt devastated by the loss.

Tallie called Max from the car on the way home, but her phone was on voicemail, and then she remembered she had gone camping for the weekend and probably had no cell reception where she was. It made her feel even lonelier. Hunt was gone, Brigitte, her father—she had no one to call, no one to tell, no one to hold her or comfort her, and she had lost her father, who had been her best friend in the world and her staunch supporter. Tallie felt lost as she got out of the car, and her cell phone rang. There was no one she wanted to talk to. She looked and saw that it was Jim Kingston. She answered in a raw voice, and he could hear that she’d been crying. He didn’t want to bother her but was concerned to hear her so distressed. He had forgotten to tell her something minor the night before, so he called back.

“Are you okay?” She shook her head, unable to speak for a minute.

“No, I’m not … I’m sorry … my father just died a few minutes ago …” She couldn’t stop crying, and he was a voice to talk to.

“Oh I’m so sorry … was he sick?” She hadn’t mentioned it, and
he
knew how close to him she was, from what she had said, but maybe she had been discreet about an illness.

“No, he was very tired … he’s kind of been running down lately … he’s … he was eighty-six.” She couldn’t bear the thought of using the past tense for him. Everything in her life was past tense now. Hunt, their life together, Brigitte, and now her father.

“Do you want me to come over?” he offered, and sounded sincere. He didn’t know what else to say.
Sorry
didn’t seem like enough. And he knew how much she’d been through lately. This seemed like one blow too many. She felt that way too.

“I don’t know …” She sounded disoriented and scared.

“I’ll be there in a minute … I’m just a few blocks away.” He had gone to his office on a Saturday to fill out some forms he hadn’t gotten around to. There was always a mountain of paperwork on his desk, and Bobby was away for the weekend, which gave him a chance to catch up.

They hung up, she got to her house, and couldn’t remember how she got there. She walked in feeling dazed. She left the front door open by accident, with her keys in it, and a few minutes later Jim walked through it. He had gone to Starbucks and picked up lattes for them both.

He quietly closed the front door and walked into the kitchen. She was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the garden without seeing it, and then turned her eyes to him with a look of surprise.

“How did you get in?”

“You left the door open,” he said, handing her the keys. It illustrated to him why she shouldn’t be alone, although with Brigitte in custody, Tallie was in no danger that he knew of, but she was in no
condition
to be on her own from what he could see. He was here as a friend this time, not for the FBI. He gave her one of the lattes, and she took a sip without thinking, like a robot. Her eyes looked glazed, and her hand was shaking as she held the cup.

“Thank you,” she said softly, and then her eyes met his. “He was such a wonderful person. When my mom died, he became everything to me, just like you are with your kids,” she said sadly. It had been a special relationship like no other. “And he was always so loving to her. He was such a good man,” she said, with tears streaming down her cheeks. Jim said nothing, and just rubbed her shoulder, and then she leaned over to him, and he pulled her into his arms and hugged her. He wished he could take the hurt and the loss away for her, but he couldn’t. She just clung to him and cried like a child. And then finally she looked at him with red eyes. “Thank you for being here. I didn’t know who to call … everyone’s gone now …” He knew what she meant and he said nothing. There had been a lot of changes in her life lately, and now this.

“That’s what friends are for,” he said quietly. He liked the idea of being her friend, and so did she. There was no way he could have just hung up after what she told him. He wanted to come and see her. They sat in the kitchen, quietly talking. He just wanted to be there for her.

“Thank you for doing this,” she said again, and he smiled at her gently.

“I know what it’s like. I was devastated when I lost my wife.” Jim was happy to be there for her, even though they didn’t know each other well. It felt a little strange to her to be sitting in her kitchen and crying with him. “At least you know he had a good life,
and
went peacefully. But I know that doesn’t make it any easier for you. Life isn’t easy sometimes.”

“Not lately,” she said with a tired smile. “I wish all the other stuff were all over,” she sighed. It was so wearing and so unsettling.

“It will be over soon, Tallie. I know it feels like forever when you’re going through it.”

“Yeah, like childbirth, only you don’t get any reward at the end of this.”

“We’ll try to get you what we can from the embezzlement. Her house is a solid asset. And I know the U.S. attorney is asking for a restitution order for you if she’s convicted or pleads. You’re going to win either way. You won’t get back all of what you lost, but at least part of it.” And as Max had reminded her at one point, they weren’t starving or in the street, but it hurt to lose that much money, for anyone, even Tallie.

“I just want it to be over,” she said, then closed her eyes and leaned against him as he put an arm around her and supported her. “I want it all to be done, all the horrible stuff that’s been happening, and instead there’s always one more thing.”

“Bad things come in clumps, like grapes. Ever notice that?” he said, and she laughed.

“Yeah, very, very, very sour grapes. I’ve had a few too many lately.”

“I know you have,” he said, and rubbed her shoulder again. She barely knew him, but she appreciated his kindness to her. She was grateful not to be alone just then. She was relieved that he was there.

“I guess I should go over to the funeral home,” Tallie said, and
looked
like she was dreading it. She couldn’t think of anything worse. She was glad she hadn’t gone to Hunt’s funeral, and now she had to arrange her dad’s.

“May I go with you?” he asked respectfully, and she nodded, appreciative of his help and support. She felt very lost. And it occurred to him as he looked at her that in the world she was a celebrity and important person, but all he saw was a sad woman who needed help, and he was more than willing to give it.

“I’d like that,” she said quietly as she went to get her purse, and a few minutes later they left. She was thinking about it as he drove her there, how different everything was now. She felt very alone and vulnerable. Having been robbed and cheated on and lied to made her feel that way. It was a reminder of how fragile we all are and how fast things can change. “Brigitte used to do everything for me, or with me,” she said quietly as they drove to the funeral home. “Having someone like that who takes care of everything is like having a mother, or an older sister. I never had a sister, and I lost my mother when I was very young, so having someone shield me and take care of everything was wonderful. It makes you feel very safe, and then I realized I wasn’t safe at all. It was like being attacked by the person you trust most and think will never hurt you. I felt that way about Hunt too, but more so about Brigitte. She was with me for a lot longer. Seventeen years. It was like losing a member of my family when I found out what she’d done. I never even had a close woman friend because I had her. Now I’m on my own. It’s not like I can’t do it,” she said as though reminding herself, “it’s just very hard.” It was why he had come over to
be
with her that afternoon, because he understood perfectly how she felt.

“That’s why crimes like that are so terrible,” he said as he glanced at her in the front seat of his car. Bobby’s baseball shoes were on the floor at her feet, and one of his baseball bats was on the backseat. There was nothing glamorous about Jim’s life or his car, but he was totally at ease with her. “It’s also why they give people more time in prison for abuse of trust. It’s a big deal. It’s not just about the money—it’s about abusing someone who is totally vulnerable to you and trusts you.”