Nathan was true to his word, and I was on my way to Tom’s place by 7:15. The rain had let up, but the wetness each car kicked up as it passed forced me to switch on the wipers. I felt chilled and longed to be back in Taos with the sun on my face and a glass of wine in my hand.
So much had happened in the last three days that it was hard to organize the events in some kind of logical order. I’d been so single-minded, concentrating so fully on finding Nathan, that now that he was safe, I was unsure what should come next. The police were organizing to hunt down Everett Larkin. I could leave that to them, no problem. Barbara was doing a complete autopsy on the body of Charles Kerrigan, which would determine the cause of death. If foul play was suspected, it would be up to the police chief to decide his next course of action. But whether it had been intentional or accidental, it was official police business now. Which left me out of the picture completely and with free time on my hands, since my plane ticket home wouldn’t be good for another week.
I could always change my departure date and leave sooner.
But there wasn’t any reason to rush back to New Mexico. Another few days would give me time to catch up with Lizzie’s news. She was always so excited to tell me every detail after a trip. And there was usually a funny story about someone she’d met that we’d laugh about for weeks. The kids were at that age where they were changing daily. Not their appearance so much, but their ideas and ambitions. I should spend more time with them before they headed off to college. Then I could go home happy that I’d accomplished what I came to do . . . and more.
But a part of me knew I was fooling myself. The part that had been a cop for so many years knew all too well I’d go crazy at home. Every minute I’d be checking e-mails and texts, calling Nathan for updates. I’d make everyone miserable. And that cop in me managed to convince my retired self that it would be very inconsiderate to just go home and leave so many loose ends hanging.
Hadn’t Nathan said he wanted to see Larkin behind bars? And I’d have to stay in Edina a few days, just to make sure my friend was fully recovered. He might not have visible scars from his ordeal, but there could be emotional ones. I often thought of the three officers I’d known who suffered breakdowns after being on the job too long. I didn’t want anything like that to happen to Nathan.
In the end, both parts of me agreed: it was my duty to stay in town awhile longer.
* * *
Tom answered the door as I was raising my hand to knock a second time. I got the impression he’d been standing there with his hand on the knob, waiting.
“I’ve been watching so you wouldn’t have to stand outside in the rain.” He smiled. “Come on in. Let me take your jacket. You must be cold and wet.”
It felt so nice being taken care of. “Luckily the rain stopped, but I am cold. Thanks.”
“There’s one of Lizzie’s old sweaters in here,” he said as he opened the closet door. “She keeps forgetting to pick it up.”
I recognized it immediately as the one I’d bought her three Christmases ago. As I pulled it on, I could smell the vanilla oil she wore and missed her.
“I wanted to get to you before the kids did. There’s a small war going on.”
“A war?”
“Chloe wants to go to the mall tomorrow.”
“On Saturday?”
“I know! Grown-up brains, like ours, know it’s the worst place to be, especially on the weekend. But to Chloe and her friends, it’s nirvana.”
“Friends?”
He walked me to a chair. “She’s going to try to talk you into taking her and two girlfriends to the mall. She has a whole speech prepared about how responsible they are, how safe the mall is with security and all; she really thinks you’ll buy it.”
It was hard not to laugh out loud, so I just smirked. “I guess she forgot I raised a daughter.”
“I know. But far be it for me to tell her anything. I’m just a dumb old dad.”
“What about Cam? What does he want to do?”
“He just grumbles that he resents being forced to leave the house and how we should realize he’s old enough to be left alone.”
“Maybe I can come up with something that will make everyone happy.”
“Good luck with that one, Kate.”
We walked back to what looked like a combination office and family room. Chloe was spread out on a couch, talking on her phone, and Cam was sitting in front of the TV, totally engrossed.
“Hey, you two,” I said.
Chloe looked up. “I gotta go,” she told the person on the other end. “My grandma’s here.”
Cam picked up the remote and turned the TV off without looking at me.
Tom walked over to his desk and settled into a soft leather chair. When I was comfortable on the end of the couch, Chloe cuddled up beside me, and I put my arm around her. I knew she was getting ready to turn on the charm, but it didn’t matter what her motive was—a hug from either of them was always delicious.
“We have the whole day tomorrow,” I started, “and I’ve been thinking about what we can do.”
Chloe put her phone aside, signaling she was about to say something important. “I’ve been thinking about it too, Grandma.”
I had to play the all-seeing, all-knowing grandmother card, and before she had a chance, I started. “At your age, I’m sure you’d like to go to the mall. And maybe bring along some friends? I know that’s exactly what your mother loved to do on the weekends.”
Tom cringed. I guess he thought I hadn’t heard a word he’d said in the living room.
Chloe looked like she was going to burst, she was so excited.
“But things aren’t like they were back when your mother was a little girl,” I told her.
The poor kid went from ecstatic to morose in a second.
“But . . . Grandma . . . all my friends are really responsible. Mom lets us go by ourselves all the time.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Cam said, unable to ignore her exaggeration.
“But I thought you wanted to spend time with me,” I said. As she continued to look at me with those big puppy-dog eyes of hers, I opened mine wider. “You can be with your girlfriends any old time.”
Tom got it when he heard my tone. “Yeah, you don’t get to see your grandmother that often,” he said.
Chloe knew she was outnumbered. “I can see Grandma after. We’ll have dinner and the whole night to be together.” Nuzzling closer to me, she said, “I can tell you all the things I did . . . we’ll have lots to talk about . . .”
“I’ll come along with you, then. That way I can meet your friends, and we can all go shopping together. It’ll be great—”
“Sometimes Jennifer’s sister takes us,” Chloe interrupted. “She’s seventeen.”
“Well . . .” I acted as though I had to think about it. “What do you think, Dad?”
“It’s up to you, Grandma.”
“I’ll have to meet your friends, especially Jennifer’s sister. And I’ll pick everyone up. Then we’ll arrange a place and time to meet up to go home.”
“I guess so. Can I go to my room now and call Jen?” she asked.
“Go.” Tom waved her on.
The three of us were left behind.
“Cam, I have a friend who works at MIA.”
The mention of the Minneapolis Institute of Art got his attention. “It’s really crowded there sometimes,” he said as he turned around to face me. I could see anxiety creeping across his face at the very thought of being pushed around by a crowd of strangers.
“Well, I told my friend all about my grandson the artist. She said anytime I wanted, she’d take us on a private tour. No lines, no crowds—we’d get special treatment and see the exhibits by ourselves. Do you think you’d like that?”
“Maybe.” He bent his knees, bringing his legs up to his chest, then locked his arms around them and rocked. “Can I decide tomorrow?”
“Sure. How about you ride with me when I drop the girls off? Then it’s only about fifteen minutes to the museum. If you’re not up to it, we can just go home. Whatever you want to do is fine with me. But I really think you’d enjoy seeing Van Gogh’s Olive Trees series. Last time I was here, you seemed to be leaning toward a more modern style with your art. Remember when we went to paint in front of the Buckhorn Mansion? Your approach to a simple landscape really impressed me.”
Cam stopped rocking and got to his feet. “Really, Grammy? I impressed you?” Slowly, he walked to the couch and sat next to me.
“You always have, sweetheart. You’re a very talented boy.”
“Thanks,” he said as he hugged me.