In Sickness And In Death Part 4

Ray pulled a Corona from the refrigerator, popped the cap, and took a long slug. "Think of it as a timeout. He's not going to sit around and watch television, that's for sure."

"Did you find the owner of the Camry?" Not to mention whoever cut off that poor woman's arm?

"It was stolen from a used car lot outside Geneseo. They reported it missing on Monday. They didn't care if it was ever recovered. Their insurance will pay for the repairs to the front end."

"So how did it get to the psych center parking lot?"

Ray opened the refrigerator and started digging in the drawer. "I'm guessing the thief left it there."

"Could Danny's father have stolen it before his arrest?"

"Anything's possible. He's not admitting to it."

"What about the arm?"

Ray pulled a package of cheese from the drawer and ate two slices. "What's for dinner?"

It always amazed me that severed arms and dead bodies did not keep Ray from food. I tried not to look as guilty as I felt about having failed to prepare him a meal. "I didn't know when to expect you or if Danny would be with you."

He tossed the cheese on the counter. "How about grilled cheese sandwiches and soup?"

I busied myself with opening cans of clam chowder and microwaving them while Ray slathered b.u.t.ter on the bread and sandwiched the cheese slices. I wasn't going to let him ignore the elephant on the table, however. "What about the arm, Ray?"

"They're looking for fingerprint matches. We haven't had any calls about a missing local woman, so we put the word out we have an arm and no body."

"Were there any fingerprints in the Camry?"

"Dozens. They're being matched as well. I'm not holding my breath." He opened the oven and slid the tray of sandwiches under the broiler.

"Did Danny tell you anything else? Why did he take off in the first place?"

Ray leaned against the oven door with his arms folded. "He wanted to see his dad."

My heart panged in sympathy. "Why didn't he ask me to take him?"

"I don't know. He's impulsive."

Was that understatement supposed to be an excuse or a medical diagnosis? I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer. "Can he see his father?"

"I told Danny I'd take him to see his dad tomorrow, if he behaves himself."

Maybe that would relieve some of Danny's distress. "Was the key in the Camry's ignition?"

"That's what Danny says."

"But you don't believe him?"

Ray peeked in the oven to check on the sandwiches. He flipped them. "All I know for sure is the key was in the ignition when the car was stolen from the used car lot. But it didn't have a key chain on it, just one of those white tags with the vehicle identification number written on it."

"Why would they leave the key in it at the lot? Are they idiots?"

"It needed new brakes. Someone was supposed to pick it up after hours and drive it to the garage."

So Danny wasn't completely at fault for rear-ending the Volvo. "Do you think Danny's dad might have stolen the car, put his key chain on it, and left it at the psych center?"

"Maybe. He won't even admit to stealing the Cadillac Escalade he was caught driving."

I wondered if he'd tried the finders keepers excuse, too. "Did he tell you anything more about where their things are? Where they lived?"

Ray shook his head as he pulled the tray from the oven. "We sent his mug shot and a description of Danny to area homeless shelters, but none of them claim to have housed them. I'm beginning to wonder if they lived from stolen car to stolen car. Danny's father does not have any vehicle registered to him in the state of New York."

What a horrible existence. Again, my heart bled a little for Danny and even for his father.

I scooped the soup into bowls and set them at the breakfast bar. Ray sliced the sandwiches and went to call Danny for dinner while I poured milk.

Danny chose the chair near the wall. He seemed pleased when I sat next to him. Perhaps he feared Ray would fire more questions at him during dinner. But instead Ray formulated a plan of attack for painting Danny's new room that included Danny carrying all the baby furniture to the garage as soon as Ray disa.s.sembled it.

I cleaned up dinner while they started working. Then I contributed to the effort by moving the rocking chair into our living room. We would need the extra seats for our guests tomorrow anyway. I also cleaned the bathrooms and vacuumed the whole house, including Noelle's now empty room.

I told myself the dust from vacuuming had caused the tears to form in my eyes.

____.

Thanksgiving morning we awoke to find two feet of snow on the ground. Ray sent Danny outside to shovel the driveway and the sidewalk while he stuffed the turkey, a task he took great pride in each year. He planned to keep Danny working all morning, and he did. By the time the doorbell rang at a few minutes after two, the bungalow smelled of fresh paint mixed with turkey, pumpkin and apple pie.

Cory had on tan khakis and a gold long-sleeve polo shirt, untucked. Brennan Rowe, a young Robert Redford look-alike and the best-looking man I'd ever met, wore dark-washed jeans and a crisp white dress shirt tucked in neatly. They made a handsome couple.

I introduced Danny to them. Ray prompted him to shake hands. He did, although without much enthusiasm. Once again, I attributed his behavior to being twelve.

While everyone sat down in the living room, I carried Brennan's dish of yams into the kitchen and retrieved a bottle of wine. Both men accepted a gla.s.s. I got Danny root beer and Ray a Corona. Cory uncovered a tray loaded with a variety of mouthwatering tidbits. We dug in, Danny watching glumly.

I started the conversation. "So Brennan, Cory says you're planning to race your Mazda Protege. Have you decided in what venue?"

"We're looking at the specs for Grand Am Cup racing, although I need more time on the track to qualify for a license in that series."

"Have you raced before?"

"Some dirt track and rally and vintage at Watkins Glen, which is a good way to work myself up."

"My dad used to take me to the track at the Glen all the time." I loved those days, and thinking about them made me miss my dad all the more. Thanksgiving was his favorite holiday.

Erica waltzed in just then, tossing her coat on the rack and leaving her purse by the door.

"I brought cornbread m.u.f.fins from the restaurant. They're really yummy." She caught sight of Brennan and her eyes widened with pleasure. Then she realized he was with Cory. Her smile faded. She followed me into the kitchen.

"How come all the best-looking guys are gay?"

I lined a bread basket with a napkin and dumped the m.u.f.fins. "Excuse me, I think Ray is good-looking."

"Okay, gay or married. All that's left for me is losers."

I considered arguing with her, but given her dating record, it was too much of a challenge. "Your prince will come, don't worry."

"Right, Jolene. When? When is he going to come?"

"I don't know. My crystal ball is broken. But trust me, when you least expect him, he'll arrive." I looked her up and down. "Did you take your medicine today?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mom. How's our little car thief doing?"

"He's mad. Ray made him work his tail off all morning. I wouldn't be surprised if he falls asleep in his mashed potatoes."

We both grinned at that image.

But when we served dinner, no one fell asleep. The food tasted fabulous, the conversation flowed, and even Danny laughed at Ray's jokes. Thankful for those present at the table, I buried my anguished thought that this would be Noelle's first Thanksgiving, one of many she wouldn't be celebrating with us.

The unidentified woman with the severed arm came to mind. I wondered if her family noted her absence at their holiday celebration, too. Maybe they would file a missing person report, and the police would be able to identify her. If not, I wondered if she would ever be found. Discovering her arm had been quite a shock, but to think of the rest of her lying alone somewhere, abandoned, was unbearable. I couldn't imagine how her family would feel.

After dinner, Ray lit a fire while I made coffee and cut the pies. I had just handed him a slice of pumpkin loaded with real whipped cream when the phone rang. He answered and stepped into the kitchen.

Erica raised an eyebrow. Cory and Brennan didn't seem to think anything of it.

But when Ray appeared wearing his uniform a few minutes later, even their eyebrows shot up in question.

"I'm sorry to break up the celebration. I have to go to work."

I rose to my feet. "What's going on?"

"We may have identified the woman's arm."

Brennan spoke up. "We saw the story on the news last night. Weird. "

Ray nodded. "It gets weirder. Gumby-another sheriff's deputy-told his wife, Briana, about the arm. She works at The Cat's Meow. She thinks it belongs to a girl who worked there sporadically for a month, then stopped coming in on Sunday. The club owner figured she was a transient and didn't think much of it. She wasn't too friendly with the other girls, but Briana said her fingernails were decorated like the ones on the limb we found and the jewelry matches Briana's descriptions. The possible victim lives in a different county, but Gumby and I are going to check out her address with their deputies."

He leaned over to kiss my cheek. "I'll call you later." A blast of cold air wafted into the living room as Ray left.

Brennan shook his head. "How horrific. I suppose they're going to find her dead."

Cory took Brennan's hand in his. "I don't doubt it. Too bad she didn't have anyone who cared enough about her to know she was missing."

Brennan nodded. He gave Cory a look that spoke of his affection.

Erica sighed and helped herself to another piece of apple pie.

Danny got a look on his face like he might throw up. He stood and raced into his bedroom. I followed him.

"What's wrong?"

He pointed toward the living room. "They're f.a.g-"

I slapped my hand over his mouth, shut the door, and dragged him to the far side of the room. "We don't use that word in this house. They're our friends."

I took my hand off his mouth.

"My dad says-"

"Lower your voice, Danny."

His eyes flashed with anger, but he lowered his voice to a whisper. "My dad says to stay away from guys like that. They like little boys."

"Men who like little boys are called pedophiles. That's a mental illness." Or at least I thought it was. Erica might know for sure, given her time at the psych center. "Danny, most men like women, but some men like men, grown-up men. They're born that way. It's not an illness."

"My dad says that's sick."

I lost my patience. "Your dad isn't here. This is my house, and Ray's, and those two men are our friends. You'll be polite to them."

"I don't want to."

"Then stay in your room." I walked out and left the door open behind me, but only because I feared the paint fumes might kill him. My head ached already. I didn't know if it was from the confrontation or the fumes, maybe both. I did know I could live without this kid in my home, needy or not.

We chatted by the fire for a while longer before Cory offered to help me do the dishes. I declined his offer, but he and Brennan gathered the pie plates and took them into the kitchen anyway. Erica and I followed, carrying the coffee tray and the pies.

Brennan approached me. "Thank you for a lovely evening, Jolene. My mother has been dead for years and I'm an only child. I was going to be alone. I really appreciated the invitation."

"We're happy to have you."

The front door slammed. It sent a shock wave through the house. We all jumped in surprise.

A car motor turned over in the driveway. A lump formed in my throat as I raced to the window.

Danny backed Erica's Porsche out of the driveway. His aim was true, but his speed too fast for the slippery conditions. The car spun out of control on the road, colliding first with Brennan's Mercedes then bouncing into the s...o...b..nk.

He floored it, trying to horse his way out of the s...o...b..nk. The Porsche smoked but refused to budge.

Erica appeared at the window beside me. She screamed.

"That little s.h.i.t. He smashed my car."

Brennan and Cory took one look and grabbed their coats, racing across the two-foot-deep snow in our front yard.

I dug out a pair of boots and slid into my coat, silently cursing Ray for bringing this nightmare home.

Cory and Brennan were examining the damage to the rear quarter panel on the Mercedes. I darted past them and crossed the road to Danny, who had his head down on the steering wheel. The car was shut off.

I noticed the keys in Cory's hand. He must have wrenched them away from Danny while I got on my coat.

Danny's shoulders heaved up and down. I grabbed his bicep.

He raised his head from the steering wheel, sobbing, "I want my dad. I want to see my dad."