Riverbend (19 page)

Her eyes scanned the crowd, hoping Drake would show. Of course he wouldn't come. He wasn't part of this community. He didn't want to be. Yet, it still hurt that he hadn't come for her sake, knowing what Otis meant to her.
Drake isn't your real friend
, she told herself.
There is nothing between you. Why do you expect things from men they can't possibly give?

She'd come with Tommy and after it was all over, they walked
together towards his truck. “There's nothing you could've done. You were kind to him, Annie, and made his life more comfortable these last several years in a way most people couldn't.”

“I can't stop thinking how scared he must have been.”

“I know. Me, too,” said Tommy. “I just hope whoever did this, did it quick.”

Annie shivered. The awful, nagging guilt returned, coursing through her bloodstream like a sudden illness. Had she done this to him?

Then, she saw him. He was two hundred or so yards away, behind a large fir near the edge of the cemetery.
Marco
. Or perhaps it was just a shadow? She grabbed Tommy's arm. “Do you see that?”

Tommy went still. “What?”

She pointed towards the tree. “Behind that fir. I thought I saw someone.”

“You mean Marco?”

“Yes.”

Tommy set off running, his long legs fast. Annie watched, grasping the collar of her blouse between damp fingers. When Tommy reached the large tree, he stopped, leaning down and picking something up from the ground. It appeared to be an envelope. Then he went farther into the thicket of trees. She saw him looking around but, apparently seeing nothing, he headed back towards her.

“He was there, Annie. I just don't know how he got away without us seeing him.”

“What is it?” She indicated the envelope in his hand.

He held it up in the light. Her name was scrawled across the front. It was Marco's handwriting, childlike and small; she would remember it anywhere. “Do you want me to open it?” asked Tommy.

She nodded, unable to speak for the hammering sound between her ears.

Tommy spoke quietly, through clenched teeth. “I'm here, bitch. I know your every move. It's only a matter of time.”

At Drake's that night, after she put Alder to bed, she drifted into the kitchen. She wasn't hungry. But wine? Yes, wine was something that might ease this sad and anxious feeling she couldn't shake.
Dull the pain and guilt and fear
, she thought.
Just for a moment
. Finding a bottle of white wine in the refrigerator, she opened it and poured a large glass, wondering absently where Bella and Drake were. She went out to the front room and curled up in her usual corner on the longer of the two couches, drinking and watching the evening dim to twilight. The wine was gone before she knew it. She poured herself another.

But now she was restless. She paced in front of the big windows. She'd never been at the house without Drake. The thought of the forbidden rooms kept barging into her mind. Were they locked? She was certain they were. Without a concrete plan, she wandered down the hallway, stopping at the door next to Alder's room. Glancing behind her, she tried the door handle. To her surprise, it opened. She hesitated. Should she go inside? What would she find? Would it frighten her?

But these were not the questions to ask. She'd promised Drake. She could not break a promise to a man who'd been so kind. She let go of the doorknob and went back to the front room.

The second glass of wine was almost gone when she heard a car pull into the driveway and the front door open moments later. It was Drake, dressed in black pants and a short-sleeved, silky looking shirt. He was holding a black suit jacket in his hand.

“Hey there,” he said. “Everything okay?”

“I'm drinking,” she said, too loudly, holding up her glass.

“I can see that.” He looked around the room. “Where's your partner in crime?”

“I don't know. No one was here when I got back. Where were you?” The wine made her bold enough to ask.

“I took a drive, knowing it was your night off and you wouldn't need me.”

“To where?”

“Just a couple of back roads.”

She looked at him carefully. There was something different about him tonight. The usual sadness mixed with something she couldn't name. “That's not like you. To go out of the house, I mean.”

He smiled, sitting in his usual spot on the other couch. “Felt like listening to music in my car and looking at the scenery, I guess.”

Was he restless, as she had been tonight? Was this the difference in his face?

“I think that's progress.” She was feeling drunk suddenly. That's how it was, she thought, the drunk just creeps in from one moment to the next.

“Progress?” He shook his head, his eyes on her. “I'm not sure me going for a drive indicates progress.”

“Want wine?”

“I'll open some red.” He disappeared, coming back a few minutes later with a bottle of 2006 Betz Syrah. “If you're going to get drunk, let's at least do it properly.”

Taking two burgundy glasses from the cabinet, he poured them both a glass. Before he handed one to her, he asked, “Before I give this to you, why don't you tell me why we're getting drunk tonight?”

She looked to the ceiling and then to his eyes that peered at her with an unflinching scrutiny. “We buried Otis today.”

“I know. Of course I know.”

“Then where were you?”

“I couldn't come.”

“Why?”

“I just couldn't.”

“That's bullshit. I thought you'd come for me, at least. Knowing…everything.”

He sighed, kicking off his shoes. “Listen, I tried. Why do you think I'm wearing black on a day like today? I'm sorry I let you down. I wanted to be there for you. Truly.”

She took a sip of wine, still hurt, unreasonably so, she understood, but the alcohol made her irrational.
Just let it go
. “I think Marco had something to do with it.”

He sat up, his face surprised, then concerned. “Why do you
think that?”

“A gut instinct.” She ran her index finger around the rim of the glass. “That's all. Just my gut. And I can't stop feeling guilty. Why did my screwed up life have to hurt someone innocent?”

“You don't know if this has anything to do with you or not. The guy was homeless and schizophrenic. Surely there's a chance he could have run into some trouble all on his own.” He looked up at the ceiling, tugging on his ear. “As a matter of fact, your theory makes no sense at all.”

Could he be right? It was true that Otis had lived on the streets and in the woods. He could have been at the wrong place at the wrong time. “It could've been meth related,” she said out loud. “Those people are crazy. He might have accidentally stumbled into something they didn't want him to see.”

“Exactly.” He drank from his glass, reclining into the couch. “So stop feeling guilty when it's not your fault.”

She didn't say anything, just continued to sip her wine, watching the shadows in the corner of the room.

“You're not responsible for everything that goes wrong, you know,” he said.

“I know.”

She reached in her pocket and pulled out the note from Marco and handed it to him. “I thought I saw him today at the funeral. And Tommy found this.”

His face went white as he read it. “I should've been there.”

“It wouldn't have mattered. He vanished into thin air. Just left this hideous note.”

He sat up, placing his glass and the note on the coffee table. “I'll take this to Fred in the morning.”

“It doesn't matter.”

“Of course it matters.”

“He's going to keep hunting me until I slip up somehow.”

“No. That's not how this is going to end. We're going to catch the bastard.” He watched her carefully for a moment. “Did you eat today?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Dammit. And now you're drinking on an empty stomach.
Smart.”

“I don't care.”

“You will when you're puking later.” He stood, grabbing the bottle of wine from the table and gesturing towards the kitchen. “Come on. I'm going to heat up one of the meals in the freezer for you.”

She followed him reluctantly. It had been so nice on the couch with his blue eyes across from her. “I'm not hungry.”

“Doesn't matter. You're eating.”

Just then the front door slammed. Bella? Where had she been?

“What are we drinking?” asked Bella from the kitchen doorway, looking at the glasses in their hands. “And is there anything to eat?”

Drake, shaking his head as if in disgust, motioned for her to sit at the counter next to Annie. “Pour yourself some Betz. I'm heating something for Annie.” He took a package out of the freezer.

“Is that lasagna? I'll have some. I mean, if there's enough,” said Bella, pouring a generous amount of wine into the glass Drake had set on the counter.

“Where have you been?” asked Annie, squinting. Everything was a little fuzzy.

“I went out. To the bar at Riversong. Holy God, Tommy's so hot.”

Annie giggled. “Everyone thinks so but me. I can't think of him that way.” She shuddered. “He's like my long-lost brother or something.”

“How was it?” asked Drake, almost carefully, like he didn't want to spook Bella. “Any men?”

Bella sighed. “Are you kidding? I now know why Annie's single. There's not a single decent available man here. Not that I'm looking, mind you.”

“You should be. I mean, looking for someone decent,” said Drake.

“Do you have to dig at me all the time?” Bella went from sounding resigned to angry in a flash. “I'm here, aren't I? Trying to get over him.”

Drake shrugged. “I guess. Have you called him?”

“As a matter of fact, I haven't. And I've heard nothing from him.
I guess it's finally over.” She tipped back her glass, drinking at least a quarter of the wine in one gulp.

“Take it easy. This is Betz. To be savored, not drunk like cheap beer at a frat party,” said Drake.

“Stop bossing me around,” said Bella.

Annie started to giggle. These two were like children sometimes.

“What's so funny?” asked Bella.

“You guys are,” said Annie. “Always fighting over the dumbest stuff.”

“Well, it's not me,” said Bella, crossing one leg over the other. “He picks at me all the time.”

Drake poured the rest of the bottle into his glass. “I don't. You're just over-sensitive.”

“Whatever.” She downed the rest of her wine. “Can we open another bottle?”

“Go get it,” said Drake, taking the food out of the microwave.

“No more for me,” said Annie. Was she slurring her words?

Bella wriggled her eyebrows and pulled on one of Annie's curls. “Our girl's drunk.”

“I had a bad day,” said Annie. “A really, really bad day.”

Bella hugged her. “Sorry about your friend.”

“I just hope he's at peace now.”

“He is. Of course he is,” said Bella.

“You don't know that,” said Drake.

“Yes, I do.” Bella moved towards the doorway. “And you used to know that, too.”

Know what? That there was a better place after life on earth? Why didn't he know that now? Not that she was sure herself. Was there really a heaven? If so, how did one get there?

While Bella was out of the room, he served the lasagna on two plates. Then he filled a water glass for Annie. “Drink this.”

She obeyed, mostly because she knew he was right. The room was starting to tilt slightly.
No more wine
.
Water. And food.
She gazed over at Drake, trying to focus, but her vision was blurry.

“Eat,” he commanded.

She took a bite; it tasted like nothing.

He watched her, leaning on the counter with his elbows. “Keep
going.”

“Okay, okay.” She was finding it hard to talk now. “You
are
kind of bossy.”

“I don't care. Someone has to keep you girls from causing yourselves harm.”

Bella was back then, holding a bottle of JM Cellars in her hands. “Love this wine. Remember when we went on the tour when I came up that time? John Bigelow, the owner, is the best tour giver ever, Annie.” She turned to Drake. “Remember how Esther kept talking about how I should have my wedding there?”

“Bella. Don't.” Drake's voice was a growl.

“Why? Can't I talk about her? Ever? I can't pretend like she never existed. Or that I didn't love her.”

He slammed his glass down hard on the counter, snapping the stem in half, the bulb of the glass shattering. “Because I cannot hear it, that's why,” he shouted. Red wine mixed with glass was the shape of Texas on the counter.

“This is crap, you know that. It's been three years. I've cut you a lot of slack but I will not have you tell me what I can and cannot talk about,” Bella shouted back at him, her voice breaking.

“How like you to make this about you.” Drake slammed his hand on the counter.

“I'm not making this about me. God, that's so typical. You need to get to a damn shrink.”

Drake's face distorted and turned red; his voice was loud and hoarse. “You know how long I did that. Don't pull the shrink card on me like I didn't do my work. What I went through is not something you get over, Bella. How you don't know that is beyond me.”

Rage
, Annie thought.
Pure rage. Be careful of the glass.
Annie slid from her stool, holding onto the side of the counter for support, the tears coming. Her stomach lurched with the fear that came in waves. She wanted to beg them to stop but no words came.
Get out. Leave them to it.
The room swayed.
Just put one foot in front of the other. Hold onto the wall if you have to
, she told herself.