I’d never told Abe, but the reason I was claustrophobic stemmed from an adventure gone bad when I was eight. Alana and I had been out riding bikes around the neighborhood. Our moms had agreed to let us be free-range children within the boundaries of a certain number of square blocks.
This sunny day we’d dared each other to explore the backyard of an abandoned house, the kind everybody gave a wide berth to on Halloween night, convinced it was haunted. Neither of us knew why the place was unoccupied, but the front yard was unkempt with high, dry weeds and trash, the screen door hung by one hinge, and the cracked driveway was empty. We’d dropped our bikes and crept around to the rear. Someone had once nurtured fruit trees and they were still bearing among the weeds and abandoned household items. A rusty washing machine had been discarded, along with an ancient fridge on its back and an abandoned dishwasher. Next to the high wall an orange tree’s branches leaned toward the ground from the weight of overripe fruit. The brambles of neglected raspberry vines protected the back of the property.
We’d decided to play hide-and-seek. Alana covered her eyes and counted out loud. I tiptoed to the fridge, which was missing its shelves, and closed myself in, hearing the door click shut. The walls were so thick I could barely hear her voice.
Time went by. I heard a sound like a clunk, but Alana didn’t pull the door open. Where was she? Why didn’t she find me? I pounded on the walls. I yelled with all my small-girl might. Nada. And I couldn’t push the door open because it had latched.
My breathing grew shallow and fast. I wanted Mommy. I wanted out. I needed to pee. I curled into myself, weeping. What if no one ever came for me? Was this going to be my coffin?
With a wrenching sound the door pulled open. The light hurt my eyes. I squinted to see my mom standing there with concern on her face, a crowbar in her hand, and sawdust in her hair. Alana stood behind her looking scared. Mom dropped the tool and reached out her arms. I climbed out and let her envelop me in her comfort.
“Why didn’t you find me, Al?” I asked in a small voice.
“I tried to open the door, but the handle broke off. I rode to your house and got your mom. I’m sorry, Rob. Were you scared?”
I could only nod.
Chapter 49
A solo walk on East Beach was exactly what I needed after this morning. I didn’t need lunch, not after the breakfast I’d had, now topped by the ice cream. I didn’t need bad news. I certainly didn’t need a big, dark vehicle tailing me, whether from malice or by coincidence, or scary memories from the past. I didn’t even need a bike ride, for once. Scrunching sand under my bare toes, accompanied by the music of waves and gulls screeching, with salt air filling my lungs? A beach on the Pacific Ocean was the only prescription for me.
Breathe in, breathe out was my mantra for the hour. Bad thoughts out, fresh air in. And the shore was full of fresh air. The wind had picked up since earlier. The pelicans were all hunkered down on the breakwater stretching into the harbor. Several wet-suited kite surfers rode the waves, gripping lines leading to brightly colored arches of nylon. I stopped to watch them. The fearlessness the sport required, not to mention arm and upper torso strength, was impressive. The water temperature couldn’t have been above sixty degrees. Regular surfing in the winter was crazy enough. To me, these guys and gals were lunatics as they sped along the surface of the water. For them, it must provide sheer exhilaration. Otherwise, why risk injury or death to do it?
I shook my head at the kite surfers’ bravado as well as their foolhardiness, and walked on. I supposed I myself had been braver in the last year or two than I’d ever been. I had taken on a sole-proprietor business back in my adopted town. And I’d confronted a few bad guys—and women—and lived to flip pancakes the next day. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
When my phone buzzed in my back pocket, I almost ignored it. What if it was Cody, though? Or Abe? I gave up speculating and pulled it out to see Liz’s name. I could use a last visit with her before I left. She would want to know about Mom’s death being from natural causes, too. I felt bad I hadn’t already thought of telling her, but I got over it. I’d only really had the facts confirmed by Mel less than an hour ago.
I connected and greeted Liz.
“Robbie, aren’t you leaving soon?”
“Yes, tomorrow morning early.”
“That’s what I thought. Do you want to have dinner tonight?”
I laughed. “I was about to ask you the same thing. Of course I do. Where?”
“How about the Green Artichoke? I have a few things I want to give Zoe, and I think she works on Fridays. Meet me there at five thirty?”
“Great. And I have something I want to tell you, but in person.”
She waited a beat before speaking. “Okay. I’ll make a reservation. Otherwise on a Friday evening we’ll be in the bar and it’ll be nutso noisy.”
We said our good-byes and ended the call. Even if I departed not knowing who killed Paul, touching base again with my mother’s best friend would mean a lot.
Interesting that she said she was going to make contact with Zoe. Somehow I’d gotten the impression Liz had given up on being in touch with her, not that I believed a mom could ever really give up on her daughter and her only child. Liz had said she couldn’t allow Zoe to live at home. Maybe that was why I’d thought they didn’t speak. I was glad Liz was still looking out for my former
