She began to cry as he told it, quiet tears that rolled down her cheeks and fell to the denim blouse she wore. He wanted to reach out to her, grab her and hold her close and kiss the tears on her cheeks. But he couldn’t. He knew he was out of her world at that moment. He could not enter of his own choice. She would have to invite him back in.
When he was done, they sat quietly for a few moments. Graciela finally reached up and with open palms smeared the tears on her cheeks.
“I must look awful.”
“No, you don’t.”
She looked down at the rug through the glass coffee table and a long period of silence passed by.
“What will you do now?” she finally asked.
“I’m not sure but I have a few ideas. I’m going to find him, Graciela.”
“Can’t you leave it? Let the police find him?”
McCaleb shook his head.
“I don’t think I can. Not now. If I don’t find him and face him, I’ll never know if I can get past this. I don’t know if that makes sense or not.”
She nodded, still looking at the floor, and more silence went by. Finally she looked up at him.
“I want you to go now, Terry. I need to be alone.”
McCaleb nodded and slowly stood up.
“Okay.”
Again he fought an almost overwhelming urge to just touch her. Nothing more. He just wanted to feel her warmth once more. Like on the first day when she had touched him.
“Good-bye, Graciela.”
“Good-bye, Terry.”
He crossed the room and headed toward the door. On his way he glanced at the china cabinet in the living room and saw the framed photo of Gloria Torres. She was smiling at the camera on that happy day so long ago. It was a smile he knew would always haunt him.
AFTER A NIGHT of fitful sleep with dreams of being dragged down through deep, dark water, McCaleb rose at dawn. He showered and then made himself a heavy breakfast-an onion and green pepper omelet, microwaved sausage and a half quart of orange juice. When he was done, he still felt hungry and didn’t know why. Afterward he went down to the head and took another reading of his vital signs. Everything was fine. At five after seven he called Jaye Winston’s office number. She was there and he could tell by her voice that she had worked straight through night.
“Two things,” McCaleb said. “When do you want to do this formal statement and when do I get my car back?”
“Well, the Cherokee you can have any time. I just have to call over to release it.”
“Where is it?”
“Right here. Our impound lot.”
“I suppose I have to come get it.”
“Well, you’ve got to come out here anyway to give me a statement. Why don’t you do both at the same time?”
“Okay, when? I want to get this over with. I want to get out of here, take a vacation.”
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. I just have to get away, try to work all of this poison out. Maybe Vegas.”
“Now that’s a great place for mental rehabilitation.”
McCaleb ignored her sarcasm.
“I know. So when can we meet?”
“I’ve got to put the case together ASAP and I need your statement. So anytime this morning would be good for me. I’ll just make room for you.”
“Then I’m on my way.”
Buddy Lockridge was sleeping on the cockpit bench. McCaleb rousted him and he woke with a start.
“What is-hey, Terror, you’re back, man.”
“Yeah, I’m back.”
“How’s my car, man?”
“It’s still running. Listen, get up, I’ve got one more trip to make and I need you to drop me off.”
Lockridge slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position. He had been lying under a sleeping bag. He gathered it around him and rubbed his eyes.
“What time is it?”
“It’s seven-thirty.”
“Fuck, man.”
“I know, but this will be the last time.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I just need you to drop me the sheriff’s office so I can get my car. I need to go by a bank on the way.”
“They’re not open this early.”
“They’ll be open by the time we get out to Whittier.”
“So if I’m driving you out to pick your car up, who is going to drive it back here?”
“Me. Let’s go.”
“But you said you aren’t supposed to be driving, man. Especially a car with an air bag.”
“Don’t worry about it, Buddy.”
They were on the way a half hour later. McCaleb brought a duffel bag with a change of clothes and everything else he would need for his trip. He also brought a thermos of coffee and two cups. He poured coffee and filled Buddy in on the case and all that had happened while they drove. Buddy asked questions for most of the drive.
“I guess I’ll have to buy a paper tomorrow,” he said.
“It will probably be on TV, too.”
“Hey, is it going to be a book? Will I be in it?”
“I don’t know. The story will probably hit the news today. I guess it depends on how big a story it is before anybody decides on a book.”
“Do they pay you to use your name like that? In a book, I mean. Or like in a movie?”
“I don’t know. I guess you could ask for something. You were an important part. You came up with that missing picture in Cordell’s car.”
“That’s right, I did.”
Lockridge seemed proud of his part and the prospect of possibly making some money from it.
“And the gun. I found the gun that prick hid under the boat.”
McCaleb frowned.
“You know what, Buddy? If there’s ever a book or if any reporters or cops come around, I would like it a lot better if you never mentioned that gun. That would help me a lot.”
Lockridge glanced over at him and then back at the road.
“No problem, then. I won’t say a word.”
“Good. Unless I tell you otherwise. And if anybody comes to me about a book, I’ll be sure to tell ’em to talk to you.”
“Thanks, man.”
It was after nine by the time they fought through all the traffic to Whittier. McCaleb had Lockridge stop by a Bank of America branch while he went in and wrote a check for $1,000, taking the cash in twenties and tens.
A few minutes later the Taurus pulled into the Star Center parking lot. McCaleb counted out $250 and handed it to Lockridge.
“What’s this for?”
“That’s for letting me use the car and for the ride today. Also, I’m going to be away for a few days. Will you keep an eye on the boat for me?”
“Will do, man. Where you going?”
“Not sure yet. And I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“That’s okay. Two-fifty goes a long way.”
“Remember that woman who visited me? The pretty one?”
“Sure.”
“I’m hoping she’ll come by the boat looking for me. Watch for her.”
“Okay. What do I do if she shows up?”
McCaleb thought a moment.
“Just tell her I’m still gone but that I was hoping she’d come by.”
McCaleb opened the car door. Before getting out, he shook Lockridge’s hand and told him again that he had been a lot of help.
“Okay, I’m out of here.”
“Sure thing, man, have a good one.”
“Oh, hey, know what? I’ll probably be doing a lot of driving. You mind if I borrow one of those harps you got?”
“Take your pick.”
He fished around in the door storage pocket and came out with three harmonicas. McCaleb picked the one he had been playing during the drive the other night along the coast highway.
“That’s a good one. You start with the key of C.”
“Thanks, Buddy.”
“You sure took your sweet-ass time,” Winston said as McCaleb walked up to her desk. “I’ve been wondering where the hell you’ve been.”