In Too Deep: A Romantic Suspense Novel (16 page)

T
wo days
later was the memorial service for Tawny Shaw. It was raw, being just two days after the actual incident. The students and the community needed to purge the grief and horror inside of them. While it was clear that Pinzetti had set out primarily to draw me out, an innocent bystander had lost her life.

It was fitting, I guess, that for the first time in two months, the sky was cloudy and threatened rain. Tawny worked at the school for two years more than I had, and from everything I saw, was loved by her students. Teaching special education is damned difficult, because each student has their own challenges and their own unique makeup, even more so than a normal teenager. Yet somehow Tawny handled it all with an insufficient budget and not a lot of thanks, both from the system that only wanted to make sure the students weren't an embarrassment and from families that more often than not saw their children as a burden more than a blessing.

The entire school and a lot of the community turned out for the memorial service, which had been quickly put together at the football stadium. It was the only place in town large enough for everyone to attend. Her husband, a nice guy I'd met at school events and the staff Christmas party the year before, shook hands with as many people as he could before taking his seat.

I was dressed in my most somber suit, a navy blue thing that I'd last worn for my job interview with the school board. I wished I had a black suit, but there just wasn't enough time. Looking at the stands, I saw that I wasn't the only one and that most of the crowd were dressed in a mixed array of colors ranging from browns through the blues to the blacks. Melina was wearing a black skirt and dark blue blouse that she'd picked up the day before. We both felt ragtag and unprepared, and in a lot of ways, we were.

After the invocation by the minister, the speakers began. The first, the mayor of T or C, was pretty standard. He didn't know Tawny, except perhaps as a face when he would come around the schools on visits every once in a while. His speech was heartfelt, but you could tell he had put it together from a file assembled by the School Board's HR department. Thankfully he kept it short.

After the mayor, things warmed up. The other speakers, starting with Principal Bernardino, had all known Tawny. There was a conscious effort by the speakers to avoid tear-jerking commentary and instead focus on the good times. There were glowing recollections of her as both a teacher and a woman, with only one person mentioning the sad way in which she'd died. Her speech was short, but by the end of it there wasn't a dry eye in the entire stadium, and more than a few grown men openly sobbing.

The last speaker was Jeff, Tawny's husband. His eyes were red as well, and he had to blow his nose once before taking the microphone. "Thank you all," he said firstly, clearing his throat before continuing. "Tawny would have been touched to see that she was so well-respected by so many people."

There was some light applause, which I found a bit strange, but it let Jeff pause and gather his thoughts. "As much as Tawny would have appreciated all of this, I don't think she would like it," he said next, struggling to smile. "You see, Tawny believed, and I share in this belief, that we should be remembered for the good we've done. It's not bad to feel sad that she's gone, I know I've spent a lot of the past few days crying. In the next few days, this city is going to be doing a lot of that. But Tawny, she wasn't one to cry. She was one who believed in celebration."

I could feel a smile coming to my face, knowing what was coming next. Tawny had been proud of her Irish heritage, and had decorated her room every year for St. Patrick's Day with an almost excessive amount flair, turning it nearly a total emerald green. And of course, I noticed her favorite music as well. I wasn't the only one smiling, either.

"Tawny loved music," Jeff said. "Whenever I would ask, she said it helped her relax, and it helped her students too. Now, I don't know if it did or not, but I do know Tawny's proud of each and every one of you. But, back to music. Of course, as you all know, Tawny's taste in music sometimes got her in trouble with the school board. I guess compared to some of the music out there nowadays it's pretty tame, but still, I'll admit she played stuff in class that wasn't exactly rated PG. She loved it, though, and I think this would have been a song she'd have wanted to be played today. So, babe, this one's for you."

Jeff waved, and someone up in the press box turned on the CD player, a slight hum coming over the speakers. I'm sure there were a few people who were at first surprised at the Dropkick Murphys blaring over the sound system, especially when the lyrics of the refrain became clear. However, I wasn't the only one singing along by the end with the final line, "I don't really give a shit, I'm going out in style!"

It ended the memorial on a high note, and I saw a lot more smiles going out than when I'd come in. Even Melina, who was exhausted after working three and a half extra shifts in the past two days, was smiling and clapping.

As a member of the staff, I was lined up with the others at the gate while the stands cleared. The actual burial would be a private family affair in Boston, where Jeff and Tawny both had family, and I was sure would hold a proper Irish wake for her.

As the crowd filed by, quite a few stopped to ask how I was doing, and I could tell that the story of my actions was already circulating amongst the locals. It would only be a matter of time before someone talked to the press, which I didn't want to have happen. I kind of hoped that it would at least stay small scale enough that the unfortunate cycle of the news would move on to the next headline-grabbing crisis.

Dwayne, my student from the fourth period class who'd shown so much leadership during the shooting, was one of the last to stop by, accompanied by his parents. I knew his Dad was one of those men who just couldn't seem to stay on the right side of the law and had a rap sheet that ran into multiple volumes.

"Hey Swag," Dwayne greeted me, dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt. I'd never seen Dwayne in anything other than t-shirts and wondered if the young man even owned a shirt with buttons. "Good service."

"I'm sure you would have liked the music to have a bit more bass to it," I said. Dwayne offered his hand and we shook. "You doing okay Dwayne?”

“Oh you know me, I’ll be fine.”

I nodded. “So does that mean I’m going to see you in class next week?"

Dwayne chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, you will. You'd be happy to know that I even did some homework the other day, and not just reading
Iron Man
either."

I nodded, noting the chagrined look that came over his father's face. Dad moved on, leaving Dwayne behind. Dwayne watched him go and leaned into me. "Hey Swag, can I ask you a favor?"

"Go ahead," I said.

Dwayne's eyes cut left and right, and he dropped his voice low. "Listen, this thing . . . it kind of woke me up. Would you mind if I stopped by sometimes to get some help? I was thinking, maybe I can be more than my old man."

I patted him on the shoulder. He was one of the local tough guys, and if the word got out that he was turning to the books, he'd have all sorts of problems with his so-called friends and acquaintances. "We'll talk Monday. Find me during lunch."

He grinned, then shook hands with Melina and took off on his way.

The sky rumbled, and we could feel the first few drops of rain start to fall. Instead of the tears I thought it would feel like, it somehow felt like it was washing away something, some of the pain and rage of the past few days.

On the way home, Melina was quiet, watching as the rain splattered and dripped down the passenger window. "It was a good service," she said quietly, her hands folded in her lap.

“It was,” I agreed. “Hey, are you needed at the pharmacy today?"

Melina shook her head, leaning her forehead against the side window and closing her eyes. She was exhausted, and couldn't fight it any longer. "Jay closed the whole thing today. He said for me to take tomorrow off too, someone would cover for me.”

"That's good," I said. "Because you’re wiped out. You should crash when we get home."

She nodded silently, giving me an appreciative glance before closing her eyes again. In the ten minutes between leaving the stadium and getting home, I heard her start snoring lightly, and I had to jostle her shoulder when we parked. I was tempted to carry her into the house in my arms, but the way she was sleeping, there was no way I could have gotten her out of the car without her waking up anyway. Still, she was asleep again minutes after lying down on the couch, and I thought for a moment about helping her out of her blouse and skirt before they got wrinkled, but decided against it.

After I changed into some casual clothes, I sat down at Albertine, getting down to work. I knew that Pinzetti was EPA, and I knew some of the information on him. It was time to turn Albertine loose again.

First, I pulled up the information on his cell phone. It didn't take long, and I downloaded his call and message history for the thirty days prior to the incident, knowing that while quite a few of the names would be useless, there had to be some nuggets of information in there I could use.

I knew that the normal method of data correlation would be useless. Pinzetti wouldn’t have been the sort of operative who checked in with his bosses on a routine basis. Still, I had the computing power to check all of it, and the desire to do so. After noting each phone number he called and the names associated with each, I created a list based off of frequency. The first was to his boss in the EPA, which I could understand. Despite being a dark matter operative, Pinzetti had to keep up external appearances, and that meant that some of the time he actually was doing work for the EPA. The second most called line was to a house in his name back in Olympia, Washington. I assumed it was his home and was at least a little surprised that he’d be married. I hadn't interacted with the man much, but he didn't seem like the type to be married to me.

After creating my database of both phone numbers and e-mails, I put them into Albertine, tracking each of them down. It was a pretty massive pile of information I was seeking, and I couldn't just walk away. Instead, I stayed at the computer, waiting while Albertine gave me initial analysis of each number and message. Those that were obviously not interesting, such as the Mexican take-out place that he'd called twice to put in orders, I discarded. The same for the flurry of calls to his bank and credit card companies after I'd frozen him out.

Those that I didn't kick out, I sent out for deeper analysis, tracking and networking them. I was looking for one that stood out, touching into the deep networks that I was familiar with. That would take time, however, so I let Albertine do its work. The rain had stopped while I was working, and Melina was still lying on the couch, the evening sun glinting off her hair. She looked so beautiful that I couldn't help it, I sat down on the floor in front of the couch and just looked at her, spellbound.

When Melina stirred, I reached out, stroking a lock of hair out of her eyes. She hadn't gotten a cut since coming to New Mexico, and she was starting to get bangs that could hang in front of her eyes. I’m not one to question a woman's choice in hairstyle, but she needed a trim.

My fingers continued, just barely brushing over her cheekbones and jawline, unable to stop themselves. As she lay there, I realized that there was something in Melina that I'd been searching for my entire life, the perfect completion to my soul. In Melina, I had found someone who had everything I needed, and who needed everything I offered. I didn't need to hide any secrets from her like I had with everyone else, and I promised myself right then that I never would. I could give myself to her, and never need to hold back.

Melina stirred again on the couch, and I pulled my hand back, worried I'd disturbed her. "Don't stop," she whispered, her beautiful eyes fluttering open, her eyes dark and precious. "That's the best way to wake up I've ever had." She smiled her angelic smile, and reached out, cupping my cheek. "You once said I rescued you. How?"

"Before meeting you, I was losing faith in humanity," I said simply. "With what's in that spare bedroom, and everything else . . . I was losing hope. There was nobody out there for me I thought, and everyone was out for themselves. Then I met you, and you reminded me that the world is more than doomsday computers and shadow agents. You brought sunshine to my dark life, and for that you saved me."

"You saved me too," she said softly. "I was trapped in a dead-end life, with nothing to look forward to except working another dead-end job, and maybe settling for someone I didn't love just so that I wouldn't die alone."

"By surrounding you in a world of insanity," I lamented, and she shrugged, a pretty decent effort considering she was laying on her side with one shoulder trapped against the couch.

"I'd rather be in a world of insanity for an unknown amount of time with you than to be without you, no matter how long I live. In fact, laying here, I know one thing that I want more than anything."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Make love to me," Melina said softly, her voice intense even though it was soft.

I nodded, my heart aching with her words. "Here or the bedroom?"

Melina laughed softly. "As wonderful and as beautiful as it makes me feel, I'd have asked you to do it with me in the middle of the football stadium," she said, "or anyplace you'd ever ask. You know, I still dream about that time at the resort.”

"Public streak to you, huh?" I laughed back, a warm stirring beginning in my shorts. "I like it."

"I know you do, but I think this couch will be fine for now," she purred.

Yet again, Melina had known what I needed even before I could say the words. Leaning into her, we kissed, her tongue slipping around mine until both of us were sighing and moaning lightly. "I could do this for hours."

"I hope not," she chided me teasingly. "There's a lot more of my body to explore than just my lips."

I laughed, my humor growing as I recognized the difference between our clothing. She was still dressed in her somber blouse and skirt, looking kind of like a slightly stern office worker. I, on the other hand, had stripped down to a t-shirt and some running shorts, getting comfortable after wearing a suit for so long. For some reason, even the melodramatic sunlight that lit our couch added to the ridiculousness of the entire situation, and I was soon laughing hard, happy.