Writ of Execution (24 page)

“I’ll see you later,” Nina said. “Thanks for everything.”

At the door, Paul turned and said, “Oh . . . one more thing, but I don’t know what to make of it. Dan Potter’s friend says that Jessie was pregnant when she left the islands. I don’t . . .”

Nina dropped into her chair. “Oh, boy,” she said.

“Nina?”

“So that’s what she’s been hiding from Potter. She had a baby! And Kenny’s been lying about it, too.”

“Why not tell you?”

“Potter will want that child. She’s afraid.”

“Potter doesn’t have to find out.”

“He’ll find out.” She took her keys out of the glass bowl on her desk. “I’m going to go out and see for myself. Otherwise she’ll just keep lying.”

“Want me to go, too?”

“No. I don’t want to scare her. I am so sick of clients that lie, Paul. I’m so disappointed. But—I just can’t blame her.”

“I don’t like that there’s a kid involved.”

“I know what you mean. It turns games into—something else.”

“When can I see you?”

“Maybe tomorrow night. Call me at home after work.”

She gassed up the Bronco at Kingsbury Grade and coasted down the mountain to the Carson Valley. First thick forest dotted with blooming golden aster gave way to scrub, then the desert sage and tumbleweed appeared. The heat built. She drank water, listened to KTHO on the radio until it faded out, and drove fast down the flat highway that stretched across the valley, past Minden and Gardnerville and the Washoe settlement, sleepy places on a weekday. A half hour farther out, way out where the settlements were all gone, she came to the unmarked turn onto the dirt road which led to her place.

As she bumped along she felt the usual sense of relief at leaving it all behind. The desert displayed its beauty without its heat, since she was blasting the AC with the windows open, a treeless vista for many miles butting up against the distant black mountain range, the rock formations smoothed by millennia of winds, the deep-cut arroyos left after old rains. She glimpsed a snake sunning itself by the side of the road.

Arriving in a cloud of dust that would certainly alert Kenny and Jessie, she opened the screen and gave the door a whack. Kenny opened up. He had tied a rag around his head to keep the sweat off his brow, his glasses were slipping down, and his shirtlessness revealed that he would never lack for a spare if he had a flat. He looked astonished.

“I could have been anybody,” Nina said. “But you opened right up.”

“I saw it was you. See, I drilled a hole in your door.”

It was neatly done, and she could use it after they left. She went back to the car, pulled some cold sodas and sandwiches she had bought at the 7–Eleven in Gardnerville from a plastic cooler in the backseat, and brought them inside. A laptop humming on the table, a fan facing Kenny’s chair, the couch piled with pillows and sheets—it was Kenny’s new home. Nina saw that the door to the bedroom, the only other room, was closed. She called, “Jessie?” and started that way, but Kenny caught her arm.

“She’s gone.”

“Where?”

“She had to go to Gardnerville.”

“When will she be back?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You’re lying to me, Kenny.”

“She’s in Gardnerville,” he said stubbornly. “What’s going on?”

“With the baby? Is it a boy or a girl?”

Kenny sat down on the couch. He took his glasses off and blew lengthily and noisily on the lenses.

“Kenny?”

“Please do not press me on this point,” he said.

“I’ll talk to her. I’ll take the flak. You’ll still get the money.”

“The money! What’s the money got to do with it? It’s just that she’s very very touchy and we’re just starting to get along.” Sweat had gathered on his nose and a gob of it chose this moment to drop off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I can’t believe you’d lie to my face, no matter how madly in love you are.”

“Oh, man. Don’t tell her what you just said, okay, Nina? I can’t—that is, I won’t—I’m very sorry, Nina.”

“Me too. Give her a message. Tell her to get another lawyer. Tell her you don’t get through trouble like this holding out on your lawyer.”

“You wouldn’t really walk out on her, would you?”

Nina turned and went back out the door and trotted to the truck. For a minute, she was afraid Kenny wouldn’t follow her.

But he ran after her.

“Wait! It’s not that she doesn’t trust you. Couldn’t you—check with her on this? Tomorrow or something?”

Nina set her dark glasses on her face. “She can call Sandy tomorrow. I’ll make sure she has some good referrals.” She was intentionally cold, a blast of ice in the heat.

“She won’t want another lawyer!”

Nina turned the key and the Bronco revved harsh and loud.

“She’s at the Carson Valley Medical Center.”

“Why?”

He struggled with himself. She observed the fight with interest. “The baby’s sick,” he said finally.

Nina nodded, rubbing her hand across her mouth. So it was true.

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“A boy. His name is Gabe.”

“How old?”

“Nine months, I think.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“A virus, maybe? He had a fever of a hundred and four again this morning and she couldn’t get it down. He keeps getting sick.”

“Where is the center?”

Carson Valley Medical Center was just off the highway. Nina mistook it at first for offices.

“Hi, Jessie.”

Slumped in a metal-armed chair in the dim yellow-lit waiting room, sleeping maybe, Jessie jerked up, instantly alert. “Kenny told you.” She balled her fist.

“Calm down. I already knew most of it.”

“Why are you here?”

“To see him. Gabe. He’s the heart of this case, isn’t he?”

“He has nothing to do with it.”

“He’s why you couldn’t take the flak and left Hawaii.

He’s why you wouldn’t give your name. He’s why you perjured yourself to Riesner. He’s what really needs protecting here, not the money. But you didn’t trust me to protect him.”

Jessie stood up and the light from a lamp cast the planes of her face into contrast. In her shorts and sandals she looked very young, but her eyes showed anger. She came over and got in Nina’s face, saying, “Leave my kid out of this. Hear?”

Two years in the Marine Corps had created those hard eyes.

“I don’t have that luxury. You think Riesner won’t figure this out, if he hasn’t already? A birth certificate is public record.”

“He doesn’t know to look for one. And there isn’t one. I had Gabe in Dresslerville, in the Washoe colony. The birth wasn’t reported.”

“You going to hide him his whole life?” Jessie’s eyes darted toward the door, where the nurse had just come out. She gave Jessie a smile, saying, “I thought you were going to take a nap.”

When she gave up waiting for an answer and left, they got back to it.

“What’s the matter with him?” Nina said.

“They’re giving him tests. He cries a lot. Fever.”

“Is it serious?”

“I don’t know! His temperature has stabilized. He had a seizure.”

“Why can’t they bring it down?”

“I keep asking them that. They don’t know. They think it might be some sort of relapsing fever that you can get from a tick in the western states. Several people came down with it in Las Vegas recently. But they can’t find any bite marks, and I keep him close by. I don’t think I could have missed a tick.” Guilt and worry sounded in her voice.

“You stayed here last night?”

“Of course.”

“What about your safety?”

“Screw my safety!”

Nina stopped, stepped back. Jessie’s fists had balled again. She thought, Why, this girl is going to knock me flat. Taking the hard line with her was clearly not working.

Nobody said anything for a minute, so Nina said, “At ease.”

Jessie breathed hard, getting control of herself. “Okay,” she said finally. “Now you know I have a baby, a sick baby, and I’m sure you’ve figured out the reason I have to protect him. Now what?”

“I want to meet him, of course. And I want to help you protect him.”

“Gabe is Atchison Potter’s grandson. He could—he would claim I’m an unfit mother—that judgment of his— that stinking lawsuit—it’s like he’s psychic—a lawyer told me he could try to get custody. . . .”

“We won’t let that happen. We’ll fight him. We’ll fight him together.”

In a cool, dark room humming with silver equipment, Jessie’s baby slept, twitching now and then, puckering his lips as if dreaming of the bottle.

Dark and plentiful hair gleamed on his head. Lavish eyelashes brushed his cheek. Gabe was a strapping, chubby fellow.

His forehead shone with fever.

“Hi, there, Gabe,” Nina said in a low voice. Jessie put her hand on his forehead very gently, but he woke up. Groggy eyes opened and the baby reached his round arms up toward his mother.

20

UP IN NINA’S attic bedroom, through a break in the curtain, Paul could see a light, but downstairs, the living-room lights were low. He knocked three times, hard, and was met with nervous deep woofs by Hitchcock. A moment later, the door opened and Bob stood there.

“Hey,” Paul said.

“Hey,” said Bob, smiling. He had his hands in his pockets and watched while Hitchcock jumped and battered Paul’s legs for a while.

Paul considered giving the boy a lecture about opening the door without checking to see who was out there, but he was actually glad to see this sign that some of the bad dreams and daytime fears he had suffered from in recent months had been put to rest. “Your mom home? She called. Asked me to stop by.”

“No.”

When he had nothing to add to that, Paul said, “Uh, do you know when she’ll be home?”

“Not really.” Bob’s head swiveled back toward the living room.

“Did I catch you in the middle of something?”

“Want to come in?” Bob asked. “Because I’m right in the middle of
Funk Lords of Wu Tang
.”

Paul followed him inside. Bob rushed over to the video player and pushed Stop.

“You a movie hound these days?”

“This is for the bad movie club at school this fall. I’ve got to preview a bunch of things.”

“See if they’re bad enough.”

“Right.” Bob plopped down on the couch, took a mess of chips from a bowl on the table, brought them halfway to his lips, and stopped. “Want some?” He waved the handful at Paul.

“No, thanks.”

He chomped a few. “Mom’s over at Uncle Matt’s and Aunt Andrea’s. She said she wanted to go in the hot tub, but lots of times she goes over there and they just talk.”

“Why didn’t you go?”

“Too boring,” he said. “Troy is visiting his real dad. Oops. Mom gets so p.o.’d when I say that. She says Matt’s his real dad. He raised him.”

“Really.” Paul had never heard much about Bob’s cousin’s biological father except that he visited occasionally.

“He wanted to see Troy. What could Aunt Andrea do? She made him go.”

“Where?”

“He took him to that little amusement park near Mom’s office,” Bob said, his voice dripping with disgust. “That place was great when I was like four years old. He’s way too old. Troy’s twelve!”

Paul thought he heard just a hint of jealousy in Bob’s voice. A father had arrived in his cousin’s life, as one had not so very long ago into Bob’s. Well, they were all so modern, weren’t they? Fathers here, fathers there, or more commonly, fathers not there . . . “How about your dad?”

“What about him? He’s making a new CD in Frankfurt.”

“But how’s he doing?”

Bob gave him a look which said, Why oh why do adults ask such things, but he answered with forbearance. “Fine.”

“Planning a visit again soon?”

“I’m always planning a visit. The problem is getting my mom to let me go.”

“Talked to him lately?”

“He called last night.” Bob looked at the blank television screen, then back at Paul. “So . . .” he said. “What can I do for you?” He peered out from under thick, dark eyebrows that brought up his eyes and shocked Paul with their familiarity. Well, of course. He had his mother’s eyes. And his mother’s cutthroat attitudes, it seemed.

“I think I’ll just mosey on over to Matt’s and say hi to everybody,” Paul said. “Would you mind calling over there and warning them that I’m on my way?”

“No problem,” Bob said, picking up the remote control and holding a hovering finger over the Play button. “Mind shutting the door behind you?”

“You bolt it,” Paul said. “And make the rounds and lock your windows and doors.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what the man of the house does. Keeps it safe.”

Matt answered the door and let Paul inside. They could hear laughter in the other room.

“Isn’t that Andrea?” Paul asked. “What’s so funny?”

“Hey, Paul,” Matt said. “Good to see you. How was Hawaii? You’ve got such superb timing. I was just getting myself a beer.”

Paul followed Matt, wondering at his good humor.

“So. Hawaii,” Matt said.

“I was only there a few days.”

“Andrea always says that’s where she wants to go when she dies. Paradise on earth, right?”

Paul thought about that. “Not at all,” he said. “It’s no fantasy. I’ve been there before on vacation, but this time I talked to some local people. It’s a real place, real people. You know, I was a minority-group member there.”

“And how’d you like that?”

“I liked it a lot. All the pressure was off.”

“I don’t get that.”

Paul shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain, but your roots—they’re not ashamed of them. They care about their roots. Somebody asked me if my ancestors came from Amsterdam, because of my name. Nobody in California would ever ask me that. You’re not supposed to talk about ethnic background.”

“So? Did they come from Amsterdam?”

“They came from Rotterdam, and Lyons, and London,” Paul said. He laughed. “I’m a mutt. So how’s it going with you?”

Matt closed the door. “Come into the kitchen. It’s less noisy.” A large square table in the middle of the room was covered with a red-and-white cloth, and in the middle sat a ceramic pot of even redder geraniums. Paul took a seat at the table. Matt reached into the refrigerator and pulled out two Heinekens. He didn’t need to ask Paul what he’d like to drink anymore. They had known each other for a long time, played a few games of chess in the backyard, and survived a few unpleasant brushes with the wrong side of the law.

Years before, before he left the Monterey Bay area, Matt had fought a battle with drugs and won. Paul knew how hard that battle had been. He knew Matt to be a good family man and a help to his sister, whether she asked or not. He respected Matt, and Paul didn’t respect most people.

They drank in companionable silence. Matt was in an unusually good mood. He kept checking Paul out as if Paul was supposed to say something. After a few minutes of this, he said, “I don’t mean to be begging for something I don’t deserve, but don’t you have anything to say?”

“About what? Troy’s father? But I don’t know him.”

“I guess Nina told Bob not to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

Matt slammed his bottle down on the table. “I’m going to be a father again! Damn, Paul! It’s almost the best night of my life, that’s all!”

“Holy shit, Matt!” Paul stood up, grabbed his hand, and pumped away. “Congratulations! It is really great news!”

Matt nodded for a while, then stuck his head into the cupboard, hunting out some pretzels. “Andrea always wanted another child. I adopted Troy and we were so happy to have Brianna. I can’t believe my good luck.”

“So you’re both happy. How about the kids?”

“Thrilled to be a big sister and big brother.”

Andrea and Nina came into the kitchen. Paul jumped up again to hug and congratulate Andrea. She sat down across from Paul, wiping a nose as red as her hair. “I’ll have tea. With honey,” she said. “Hold the whiskey for about six months, okay?” Andrea leaned back in her chair. Paul couldn’t see anything special about her stomach except the careful way she laid her hands on it.

“How about a pretzel?” Nina asked.

“Either that, or maybe I should never eat again?” said Andrea. “I forgot how bad feeling good can feel.”

Matt sat down beside her. “Queasy, huh?”

“I already have formed an opinion about this child of ours, Matt,” Andrea said. “She’s developing sea legs, when she doesn’t even have legs yet.”

“You mean ‘he,’ don’t you?”

“We shall see what we shall see.”

“Fortunately,” Nina said. “You already have both.”

“No preference, right,” said Matt.

“But he’d prefer a boy,” Andrea said.

“Not so! Just so she can drive a tow truck in winter.”

“You’ve already got her grown up and employed, Matt. She doesn’t even have the manual dexterity to operate a rattle yet. Or even fingers, for that matter.”

They teased each other for a few minutes.

Nina, who had been fiddling with things on the stove, stood nearby watching and smiling. In another of her shifty moods, she was now acting shy, not meeting Paul’s eyes, which were conveying his message loud and clear. When the pot whistled, she poured tea and honey in a mug, then handed it to Andrea, who gulped it down. Nina sipped tea. Paul finished his beer.

“You ever thought of having kids, Paul?” Matt asked, moving his chair next to his wife’s and putting an arm around her.

“I’m not married at the moment,” he said. “Not that that stops a lot of people these days, but I’m old-fashioned that way.”

“You’re what, forty? You must think about it. . . .”

“Yeah, Paul,” Andrea said. “Do like Matt. Plan for one to take over the family business. She could grow up to be a detective just like her daddy.”

“Ha, ha,” said Paul, getting up. “Like I said, there’s the small question of a mother for this imaginary being to settle first.”

“So you’d have kids if you could?” Matt asked.

Paul felt Nina’s curiosity emanating from across the table. “Can this man be trusted with the government of others? Perhaps history will answer this question, as Jefferson, his words adjusted to the situation and butchered, once said.”

“In other words, you decline to state. I find that telling,” said Matt.

Paul said, “I’m sorry to have to drink and run, but I’ve got to get going. Nina, could I talk to you?”

She followed him to the front door.

“You promised to call me, and you didn’t,” Paul said. “So I came looking for you.”

Those downcast eyes again. “Oh. I thought it was the Potter case that brought you.”

“I don’t have anything to report about the Potter case right now. I’m not here on business. I am here for you. Are you coming back to Caesars with me or not?”

She wouldn’t look at him. “I’m not sure,” she said.

“Then let me decide for you.”

“All right.”

“Where’s your jacket?” He put it around her shoulders, squeezing them, letting her know that he would take care of her. “Go get in the Mustang.” She turned without a word and did as he’d asked. He went back to the kitchen and said, “We have to get going.”

“We, huh?” said Matt.

“See you guys later,” Andrea said.

“It’s great news. It really is. So long.”

Nina still seemed wound up when they arrived, and Paul didn’t want that, so he suggested they warm up with a drink. “Shake off the cold,” he said. She liked the idea. They stopped off in the downstairs bar.

Paul ordered his second beer of the night, and Nina had a Jack Daniel’s on the rocks, a good sign. He lifted his glass. “ ‘Shoulder the sky, my lass, and drink your ale.’ ”

She smiled and made a face as the bourbon went down. “Who said that?”

“A. E. Housman.”

“I would have said Dylan Thomas. Singing in his chains like the sea. A sea of ale.”

“Keep your voice down,” Paul said. “You want people to think you’re a pointy-headed intellectual?”

“You started it.”

“Hey. Isn’t that your guy over there?” He pointed in-conspicuously across the bar.

“You’re right,” Nina said. “It’s Atchison Potter, in town for his court appearance. All alone.”

“The worse for wear,” Paul said. “Too much travel or too much alcohol, maybe.”

“Maybe,” Nina said, studying the man. “He looks ill.”

“And you’re thinking that might be helpful in court somehow.”

“Can’t help myself. He may not even make it to court.”

Potter didn’t notice them. He drew a fiver out of his wallet, laid it on the counter, and got up wearily.

“Almost makes me feel sorry for him,” Nina said. “But not quite.”

They finished their drinks, talking little.

“I forgot how much I need this.”

“You mean, how much you need me.”

She smiled up at him. “We’ve been through so much together, haven’t we, Paul?”

“Let’s leave it at, you need me. And Nina, I need you.” They had the elevator to themselves. By the time they made it inside the door of Paul’s room, they had their outer layers off and within moments, the rest fell to the floor.

“Have I ever told you you’re breathtaking?” Paul said, steering her gently toward the bed.

Still her body seemed coiled tight. She was holding back. This, he could fix. This time, she would not hold back. This time, he would crack through that layer of control and find his way to the tender woman he knew lived deep inside her.

He took his time, kissing her lips until she moaned and her thighs until she was quivering. He ran his hands along the liquid curves of her body, feeling her ripening under his fingers.

“Just wait there,” he said, letting his hand run down her shoulder to her hand. He let go and lit a candle in red glass he had placed next to the bed.

“You knew I would tag along,” she said, her eyes still closed.

“I hoped. I never know with you.” And his hand was back on her leg, traveling up, reaching for her. “I do love you, Nina.” He loved the sound of her name on his lips. “Nina,” he said. “My Nina.”

She had turned onto her side, and her back was to him. He massaged her back softly. He stroked her hair and lay down behind her, spoon-style, inhaling the perfume of her hair.

Then, “Nina?”

She was shaking.

“Are you cold? Here, let me pull up the covers.” As he did that, gently pushing her onto her back and over farther on the bed, he saw her face. “Hey,” he said. “What’s this?” He sat up, holding her face in his hands. “Why are you crying?”

“I don’t know!” Anger leaked into her sobs. “I’m sorry!”

“Is this about Andrea? Babies?”

She cried hard. “No!”

“What, then? Help me,” he said.

“It—it feels like good-bye.”

“To Collier? Or me?”

He pulled her head onto his shoulder. She had never shared these feelings with him. She must know it would be painful for him to hear.

“I had it. Just for an instant. R-real love. He was such a good man.”

“And I’m not. I’m not a good man. That’s the problem, isn’t it?”