“She’s okay. Uh, listen, Gall, I want you to fix my airplane.”
“Ain’t that what I’ve been doing?”
“Yeah, but it’s taking too long. What about those parts you’ve been waiting on?”
“I’m hounding them to rush the order.”
“Good. I need to be flying again. Soon as possible.”
“Don’t I know that already?”
“Right. But I’ve also been thinking about—”
“Dent—”
“No, let me get this out before I change my mind. I’ve given more thought to the senator’s offer.”
“That’s what you’re calling about?”
“I know it’s late, but you’re the one who’s been on my ass about it, so I’m calling now to tell you that I’ve decided to talk to him. Maybe… I don’t know—it might not be that bad to have steadier employment. At least I can hear the guy out, see what he has to say.”
“I’ll set it up.”
“An informal meeting. I’m not dressing up for him.”
“I’ll set it up.”
Suddenly Dent felt good. Maybe a little proud of himself for the first time in a long time. He realized that he was smiling hugely. But Gall’s restraint puzzled him. “I thought you’d be a lot happier.”
“I’m real happy. You’re finally acting like a grown-up, making a good decision.”
“So, what’s the matter?”
“I’m just surprised by your timing.”
“Again, I apologize for the hour. Hope I didn’t interrupt anything. But I reached the decision a few minutes ago and wanted to act on it immediately. Call the guy first thing in the morning, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” A pause, then, “You talk this over with Bellamy?”
“I would have, except…” Dent took a deep breath, expelled it. “She’s not speaking to me.”
“Oh. I get it now. You don’t know.”
Gall’s tone sent a chill through Dent. His happy bubble burst. “What don’t I know?”
“Her daddy died. It was reported on the ten o’clock news.”
Steven folded his dark pinstripe suit into his suitcase, which lay open on the bed, and looked over his shoulder at William as he came into the room. Steven asked, “Any problems?”
“None. All the shifts are covered. The chef will manage the kitchen. Bartender will oversee the dining room. No one will know we’re gone.”
“You hope.”
“We’ve hired good people. Things will run smoothly, and if there is a hitch, it won’t be the end of the world. Or even the end of Maxey’s Atlanta.”
Steven hesitated and, not for the first time, said, “You don’t have to come with me.”
William shot him a look as he pulled his own luggage from the storage closet. “I don’t have to, but I am.”
“For a decade I’ve protected you from my family and its woes. Why involve yourself now?”
“I’m not involving myself with your family. I’m involved with you. Period. End of discussion. What time is our flight tomorrow?”
Steven had made their reservation for the first flight out of Atlanta to Houston. “We’ll be there by ten. The funeral home in Austin is sending a hearse to Houston to transport the body. We’ll ride back to Austin with Mother in the accompanying limo, and then fly home from there after the funeral.”
“Which is?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
“Soon, then.”
“Mother saw no reason to delay it. Howard’s death has been expected for months. Actually, without her knowledge, he had already made most of the arrangements, even for the viewing, which will be tomorrow night.” He laid several folded shirts in the suitcase. “Out of respect, Lyston Electronics will shut down for three days, although the employees will receive full pay.”
“Who mandated that? Bellamy?”
“Mother. She thought it was a gesture that Howard would have approved. As for Bellamy, when I spoke to Mother, she hadn’t yet notified her.”
“Why, for godsake?”
“She dreaded having to tell her. Despite the time Bellamy has had to prepare herself, she’ll be grief-stricken.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumping. Since receiving the news, he’d been busily attending to business matters, making travel arrangements, readjusting his schedule, packing mourning clothes.
Now the gravity of the situation seeped into him, and, along with it, profound weariness.
William came over to him. “What about you? What are you feeling?”
“I’m worried about Mother. She sounded as good as could be expected, but I’m sure she’s keeping up appearances and holding herself together, being the strong, stalwart widow of an important man.” He exhaled heavily. “But Howard was the center of her universe. Her life revolved around him. She’s lost the love of her life as well as the purpose for it.”
William acknowledged that the transition for her would be difficult. “Selfishly, however, I’m more concerned about your state of mind.”
“I’m not leveled by grief, if that’s what you mean. Whatever my relationship with Howard was or wasn’t, it’s too late now to change it, and in any case I wouldn’t. Couldn’t.”
He took a moment to sort through his shifting emotions. “I think he would have been more of a father to me if I had let him. When they married he embraced me as his son, adopted me, made it legal. And it wasn’t just for show or to please Mother. I believe he actually wanted to become my
“Because you blamed him for Susan’s abuse.”
“By extension, I suppose,” Steven admitted. “Unfairly.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
Steven looked at him sharply.
“Howard may have known what she was doing,” he said softly.
Steven adamantly shook his head. “He would have stopped it.”
“He would have had to acknowledge it first. For a man as principled, as devoted to family values as Howard was, accepting that his teenaged daughter was a conniving, malicious, unconscionable whore would have been out of the question. Rather than confront it, it’s possible that he denied it, even to himself, and looked the other way while she continued her reign of terror over you.”
It was only a theory, but upsetting nevertheless. Steven placed his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. “Jesus. I fool myself into believing I’m over it, but I’m not.”
“You should have had counseling.”
“I would have had to tell first. And I couldn’t tell.”
William sat down beside him and placed his hand on Steven’s bowed head. “Susan is dead.”
“I wish,” he said in a voice made raspy by anguish. “But I wake up in the middle of the night, feeling her breath on my face.”
“I know. And the haunting has gotten worse since
“Because she’s haunted, too. She wants an end to it just as I do, and her approach is to dig for answers to questions that were buried with Susan.” He raised his head and saw in William’s eyes a foreboding that matched his own. “Until she has them, I’m afraid she won’t stop digging.” He added in a whisper, “But I’m equally afraid she will.”
Ray figured he must be cursed or something.
Maybe some unknown enemy had a voodoo doll that looked like him, a thousand pins stuck in it. Maybe the stars that charted his fate were out of whack or had collapsed upon themselves.
