Chapter 24
Miguel and I arrived at my childhood home, two bottles of wine in hand and a tureen of sausage, kale, and potato soup in hand. I hadn’t gotten a chance to pick up bread from Yeast of Eden. We’d have to do without.
We joined my father, Billy, and Emmaline in the backyard. Miguel set the soup in the center of the table and uncorked the Sangiovese, pouring us each a glass. He raised his and toasted the newlyweds. “You got back in the nick of time,” he said at the end.
Em lifted her beer bottle. “I’ll drink to that.”
“Are you keeping Captain York?” I asked.
“He’s got a good track record,” she said. “He was way off base this time, but I think he was trying to close the case quickly to prove his worth.”
“Yeah, at the expense of Miguel,” I said, frowning. I didn’t like that Em was defending the guy.
“I can’t discuss it,” she said, “but suffice it to say that I’m handling things.”
“Reprimand,” Billy said.
Em didn’t confirm, but she didn’t deny. If York had to stay, I hoped she would be able to rein him in.
“What’s happening with Rachel?” I asked.
“The DA is not pressing charges. They’ve deemed it self-defense.”
I felt a weight I hadn’t known I’d been carrying lift from my shoulders. “So, what happened?”
“It’s just like she said. She was upset with her mom when she found out about Tate’s biological father. She met her at the district office. Rachel says she told her mom she was going to tell her father the truth. That’s when Nessa went off on her. Rachel says her mom threatened her, then, when Rachel didn’t back down, Nessa attacked.”
“Those bruises,” I said.
My dad just shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
“There are more on her back. Turns out the abuse wasn’t a onetime thing. Nessa never wanted kids, according to Cliff. She wanted her political career more. She got pregnant and he convinced her to keep the baby.”
“So, she took out her anger on Rachel?” My stomach churned with nausea. “What about Tate?”
“He’s being evaluated,” Em said.
“Cliff didn’t suspect anything?”
“Apparently not.”
Billy scoffed. “I don’t get that.”
“People see what they want to see, Son,” my dad said.
Emmaline nodded in agreement. “Nessa would have killed her own daughter if Rachel hadn’t fought back.”
I sipped my wine, then said, “I saw Gretchen. She said Cliff has found a therapist for Rachel.”
Em nodded. “She needs it, but she’ll get through it. She’s got lots of people rallying around her.”
I knew that to be true. Candy had called to say she and her daughter Ronnie would do any- and everything they could to help Rachel. The girl had friends standing by.
My dad stood. “I’ll get the bowls.” He disappeared into the house, returning a few minutes later with them, as well as spoons, and a basket covered with a cloth.
Miguel ladled soup into each bowl as my dad removed the cloth covering the basket.
I stared. In the basket was a mound of rolls. Rye pumpernickel rolls, to be exact. The very same rolls Olaya had served Mrs. Branford and me the week before. The same rolls she said she’d made for the Spring Fling.
Olaya’s glow.
My dad’s chipper mood.
Olaya had said she was seeing someone.
Holy smokes. Was her secret romance with my father?
Owen Culpepper, you devil, I thought with a smile.
Later, back at Miguel’s house, Agatha curled up in the little dog bed Miguel had bought for her. We sat on the outdoor couch on the porch overlooking the vast darkness of the Pacific Ocean. “So, your dad and Olaya,” he said after I filled him in on my suspicions. “Are you okay with that?”
I hadn’t been sure how I felt until he asked the question. I only had to think about it for a split second before I said, “He needs to live his life. If they are making each other happy, then I’m all for it.”
Miguel took my hand. “You never answered my question. About rug rats,” he said.
“I’ve thought about it,” I said, going for nonchalance, but this time my smile reached my eyes. Miguel was in the clear and life was good. “I want a few.”
“With me?” he asked, squeezing my hand.
“Only with you, Miguel.”