Daniel's Gift (43 page)

"No."

Alan looked at Jenny's house. He had spent some happy times there, and some not so happy times. But her house had always seemed like a home to him, filled with her presence, her joy of life. Now, the doors were locked, and he was on the outside. Where had he gone wrong?

"Love sucks," Sue said.

He reluctantly smiled. "You got that right. Come on, let's get out of here."

As he turned to leave, the garage door opened next door, and Gracie backed her old white Lincoln out of the driveway. Alan stopped and stared as the older woman knocked over trash cans and weaved into the street like a drunken sailor.

"What the hell is she doing?" he asked.

Alan ran to the patrol car, and Sue slipped in next to him. They followed Gracie down the street with the lights on. She drove straight through a stop sign. Alan put on the siren. Gracie ran her car up over the curb, stopping abruptly in front of a tree.

When Alan got to the car, Gracie sent him a blank look as she clutched the steering wheel.

"Are you all right?" Alan opened the door.

"I -- I." She put a hand to her temple and rubbed it.

"Did you hit your head, Gracie?"

"No. No, I don't think so."

"You're not supposed to be driving. Where are you going?"

"Going? Why, I'm going to pick up Doris from school. She called and said her ride didn't come, and you know she's such a shy child, she hates to sit alone in the playground."

Alan looked over at Sue.

"Who's Doris?" Sue asked.

"Her thirty-two-year-old niece."

"Oh. I'll call for an ambulance."

"No." Alan shook his head. "That will just scare her. I'll drive her back to the house. It's only a few blocks. We'll get someone to stay with her until we can find Doris."

Sue smiled as she took the car keys from Alan. "Are you going to give her a ticket?"

"Maybe," he growled. "She did break the law."

"She certainly did."

"Slide over, Grace. Let me take you home," Alan said.

Grace moved over to the passenger side. "I forgot how much you like to drive, Harold. Next time, I'll remember. Did I tell you how much I love you?"

Alan stared at her and realized that Grace wasn't seeing him but her deceased husband. "Yeah, you told me."

Grace put a hand on his arm. "I remember the day we first met. You were so handsome, strong -- and so shy," she said with a laugh. "I practically had to beg you to dance. You were afraid you'd step on my feet. I just wanted to be in your arms and dance for the rest of my life. Do you still think I'm as pretty as the day we met?"

Alan looked over at her and smiled. "I think you're prettier."

"You always know the right thing to say."

Alan drove Grace back to her house, pulled the car into the driveway, and shut off the ignition. He helped her out of the car and up the steps to her house.

When she got to the front door, she turned to him, her eyes suddenly clear. "You're not Harold, you're Alan."

"Yes, ma'am."

Grace looked over at the car. "Are you borrowing my car?"

"You don't mind, do you?"

"No, of course not."

A cab pulled up in front of the house, and Doris stepped out, her face flushed, her movements hurried. She looked from Grace to the two police officers and hastened up the drive.

"What's wrong? What's happened?"

"Nothing's happened, dear," Grace replied. "You're such a worrier. Alan just wants to borrow my car.

"I wonder if I could have a glass of water," Sue interrupted. "I'm thirsty."

"Of course," Grace said, motioning for Sue to follow her into the house.

Alan looked at Doris. "Grace was driving." He handed Doris the keys. "I suggest you put these where she can't get to them."

Doris took the keys out of his hand. "I am so sorry. I got delayed at the doctor's office, then my car wouldn't start. I called and told her I'd be right home. I can't imagine what she was thinking."

"She was thinking you were seven years old and needed a ride home from school. Grace's sick, isn't she?"

Doris nodded, her expression turning sad. "Yes. She has Alzheimer's. That's why I'm living with her now."

"She could have hurt someone, could have hurt herself," Alan said. "You may have to take stronger measures."

"I know. But I can't stand the thought of putting her in a home. When she's clear, she's as sharp as any of us. Think what being in an institution would do to her spirit. No, I can take care of her. I'll just watch her more closely. Is she in trouble? Is she getting a ticket?"

"No, but I want her car taken away, and your keys to be locked or hidden at all times."

"She wouldn't try to drive my car. It has a stick shift."

Sue joined them on the porch. "All set, partner?"

"Yes."

Gracie followed them outside. "Just bring the car back any time, Alan. I don't drive anymore, you know."

"I know." Alan smiled at her.

"Harold loved that car. It was his prize possession. Kept it clean as a whistle, he did."

Alan looked over at the Lincoln and suddenly frowned. Something wasn't right, and it had nothing to do with the layer of dust on the hood. It was the headlight. The left front headlight.

He felt the blood recede from his face as he was drawn closer to the car. He heard Sue's questioning voice in the background, but he couldn't answer her. The sun danced off the headlight, like a beacon, calling to him.

When he got to the car, he knelt down beside it, saw the broken glass, and closed his eyes.

He felt Sue's hand on his shoulder. After a moment, he turned to look at her and saw the understanding and disbelief in her face.

"What's wrong now?" Doris asked, walking over to join them.

"The headlight is broken."

"So?"

"Have you driven this car lately?"

"Never. No one drives it, at least not until today."

"Grace." Alan looked over at the woman on the porch. She looked old and frail, suddenly terribly afraid. Grace knew. Deep down inside, somewhere in the hidden recesses of her mind, she knew, or she suspected. Whether or not she could tell him the truth, he had no idea. And whether or not he could tell her the truth was also in question.

Because this sweet old lady had listened to his problems, had taken care of Jenny and Danny through the early years, had cooked and cleaned and brought over chicken soup when the family was sick. Grace had been a surrogate mother to Jenny and a grandmother to Danny.

If she had done the unspeakable, how could any of them handle it?

He had to confront her. Still he hesitated, feeling the pressure rise as Doris and Sue stood silently behind him, waiting and watching.

Gracie walked slowly down the steps. She stared at the broken headlight, then looked at Alan.

"Have you been driving, Gracie?"

She looked at him in confusion. "I don't think so."

"Do you know how the headlight got broken?"

"It must have happened when Harold and I went to visit my sister Elizabeth. We were going to stop for ice cream at Ida's place, but it was late, and we decided to just keep going. My sister hates when people are late."

"Do you remember what night that was?" Alan asked, trying to stay calm.

"A few weeks ago, I think. I remember it was foggy, and a deer ran into the road. But Harold said no, it was my imagination. He told me everything was all right. We just kept driving and, well, I guess he forgot to fix the light. Everything is all right, isn't it?"

Alan didn't know what to say. What to do. Everything in his life had been cut and dried, black and white, until this moment. He could hear Jenny's words ringing in his ears. Sometimes love is more important than the truth.

But he was an officer of the law, and Gracie had in all probability nearly killed a child. If Danny died, she would be responsible for the death of an innocent boy. How could he let her walk away?

The guilty must be punished. It was his own personal law. And Gracie -- Gracie was guilty. She had to be punished.

But how did one punish a seventy-year-old woman with Alzheimer's who had no idea what she had done? Who could possibly benefit from her incarceration? Certainly not Danny, not Jenny, and definitely not Grace.

Doris looked at him, her face white and tense. "My Aunt Elizabeth died three years ago."

"I know. Take your aunt in the house," Alan said gruffly.

Doris opened her mouth to ask a question, then closed it and did as she was told.

When they were gone, Alan leaned against the hood of the car and bowed his head. "What am I going to do, Spence? What am I going to do?"

"Finish the investigation. Check the skid marks and the glass, analyze the damage. In other words, you're going to do your job," Sue said matter-of-factly.

Alan sighed. "Sometimes I hate this job."

"So do I. She's such a sweet old lady. Do you want me to tell Doris what's happening?"

"Yes, but don't say anything to Grace, not yet."

"And Jenny?"

"I'll call her at work."

"At least Matt's off the hook."

"Yeah. Looks like I was wrong about him -- wrong about a lot of things."

* * *

Luke flipped open the desk calendar in front of him. December 20. Five days until Christmas and a month since Danny's accident. So much had changed in four short weeks.

The door to his office opened. Luke looked up, expecting his secretary. His father walked in as if he owned the place.

Luke immediately got to his feet. "Father."

"Had to make me come all the way up here, didn't you?"

"I don't recall asking you to do anything."

Charles sat down in the armchair in front of the desk, although he looked distinctly uncomfortable sitting there. He was used to being in charge, having others jump to obey his wishes, not the other way around.

Luke sat down as well. "Why are you here?"

Charles looked him straight in the eye. "I'm worried about my company. We lost the Genesys deal because of your inattention. Malcolm told me you missed two meetings with them." Charles hit the edge of his desk with his fist. "Dammit, Luke. I gave my life to this company, and I will not stand by and let you run it into the ground."

"It's not my intention to run this company into the ground."

"Then why are you spending all your time at the hospital? You should be taking care of business. I thought you were ready to commit yourself to Sheri-Tech. Isn't that why you came home?"

"Yes. But things have changed."

"Not the important things. You're my son and heir. This company is my legacy to you. I don't understand your attitude."

"I appreciate everything you've done for me," Luke said, "but my son is lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life. And frankly, I don't understand your attitude."

The air bristled between them with tension, distrust and anger. Luke had never confronted his father, never stood up to him, until now.

"I've done everything you wanted me to do," Luke added. "I studied science and math, went to the schools of your choice, majored in the fields you told me to, and worked my way up the ladder of biotech. I've moved into your house, your bedroom, your closets and this company. I have tried so hard to be you. But I'm not you. I can't wear your shoes. They don't fit."

"Luke."

"I can't run Sheri-Tech the way you ran it. I can't live with a woman who doesn't want children. I can't pretend anymore. I'm tired. I'm angry. And I'm afraid."

Charles sat back in his chair, completely taken aback by Luke's outburst. "Afraid -- of what?"

"Of losing my son." Luke stood up and paced behind the desk. "I want to know Danny. I want to play catch with him, teach him to drive, and to shave. I want to share my life with this kid, because maybe then I can understand how a father and a son are supposed to love each other. Maybe I can have with Danny what I can't have with you."

Charles' eyes filled with pain at his words. "I've always been a father to you. I don't understand what you're saying."

"Your love came with expectations. I can't meet those expectations anymore, and I'm not going to try. You think I'm destroying Sheri-Tech? It's yours. I'll walk out of here today. Whatever you want."

Charles got to his feet. "I don't want you to leave the company. I want you to run it. I want you to make it more successful than I did."

"I'm not sure I can do that. I'm not sure I want to. I've wasted too much time trying to be someone that I'm not." It was a relief to say the words. Luke felt free and in control.

"You're talking nonsense," Charles said. "You are what you are, and I'm proud of you."

"You should be. I did everything for you. Maybe if I'd had brothers and sisters it would have been different. But it was only me. I was the one to carry on your hopes and your dreams. I've borne that burden my entire life."