Cooper's Deale Part 2

"Hey, it's going to be all right." Karen put her arms around her, but Addy jerked away.

"I want to see Tommy." She hurried around Karen, avoiding her like an animal avoids stepping in its own waste. Besides, Karen's arms felt too good to let them linger longer than necessary.

When she walked out the back door onto the screened-in porch that faced Parkers Creek, the beauty and tranquility of the sun setting over the water washed through her and she relaxed for the first time since she had touched down at BWI. The big red oak was lush and thick with leaves, providing a deep shade over the wooden picnic table where she and Karen had sat when they ate together. She could distinguish the tree house hidden among the branches and knew that Tommy was somewhere inside. Taking a deep breath, she entered the yard.

"Tommy?"

Footsteps on the floorboards above told her he had heard and was probably peeking down at her right now. His window was open and she called up to him.

"Tommy, it's me, Addy. I'm home."

"Caw! Caw! Big deal."

She winced. His response shouldn't have surprised her, but it did. And it hurt worse than she had antic.i.p.ated. She approached the tree cautiously, then began to climb the ladder as Tommy leaned out the window and peered down at her, flapping his arms as though about to take flight.

"Go away, Addy. I'm mad at you."

"I know, sweetie, I know. And I'm sorry. It doesn't make up for my time away, but now I'm home, and I'm not leaving you again. Okay?" She pulled herself up to the door of the small enclosure and respectfully knocked. "Can I come in?"

"Please? I just want to talk to you about Grandma."

A moment of silence greeted her p.r.o.nouncement, and then she heard the lock turn in the door. She ducked at the entryway, then stood up in the one-room enclosure. Tommy sat on his bed, his hands folded neatly in his lap. He gazed at her with the eyes of a wounded animal, which broke her heart.

"Oh, Tommy." In three steps she was by his side. He flung himself into her outstretched arms and clung to her, sobbing into her neck.

"Shh, honey. Addy's here. Don't worry. I'm never leaving you again."

"They say Grandma's dead, Addy. They say I can't see her no more."

"I know, sweetie, I know. But I'm home and I'll take care of you now."

She cried along with him and understood for the first time what it was like to be an orphan. No adults were left to care for her and Tommy. She was the grownup now, and she had to be the strong one.

"I'm hungry." Tommy sniffed, wiping his face on his sleeve.

Addy smiled through her tears. "Okay, then. What would you like for dinner?"

"Worms."

"You can't have worms, but you can have pizza."

"Okay."

She clambered down the tree and was startled to discover Karen waiting at the picnic table. The combination of sun and shade left a freckled pattern across her face, and she had never been more handsome. Her dark hair and light eyes, and her olive complexion dark from exposure to the sun, made Addy s.h.i.+ver.

But the dull ache in her heart that had never completely healed resurfaced. What might have been in their relations.h.i.+p haunted her.

"I hope you don't mind," Karen said softly, "but I've been staying at the house until you got here. Just to make sure Tommy was okay."

"No, I don't mind at all. I'm glad he wasn't alone. I hope it wasn't an imposition." Addy leaned against the picnic table but refused to sit down. It would seem too much like old times, and she didn't want to remember their old times.

"I was glad to do it. In fact, since you've been gone, Tommy and I have become good friends. I like to spend time with him. He's a great kid."

Addy was surprised. Karen had always been good with Tommy, even when they were children. She would defend him from all the bullies who made fun of him and even wound up with a black eye on occasion. Addy was grateful that Karen had continued the friends.h.i.+p despite the end of their relations.h.i.+p. She was also even guiltier that Karen, not her, had been taking care of Tommy.

"Well, I'm back now so you don't have to do that anymore. Thanks for looking out for him." She pushed off from the table.

"I need to make his dinner now. Thanks again."

Addy wanted her to go away-rather, her libido wanted her to go away-but Karen didn't seem to take the hint.

"I want to help, Addy. The past is the past. Stop punis.h.i.+ng us for a stupid mistake that happened a long time ago."

The bile roiled up from Addy's gut. "Mistake? You call cheating on me with Miss Wilson a mistake? A mistake is using a ballpoint pen to do a crossword puzzle. You broke my heart-no, you tore my heart out of my chest and stomped on it."

She was losing control and was shocked that all the feelings she had considered buried long ago rushed so quickly to the surface. But she couldn't cure the festering wound.

Karen jumped up. "Addy, you haven't changed one bit. You're still the same old tight-a.s.s-and I don't mean that in a good way-and bitter woman who left here over six years ago. I hope you're happy in your misery, but don't spread it around."

Addy watched her stalk away. Talk about tight a.s.ses. Even in her fury she admired the flex of muscle in Karen's b.u.t.t that the clinging pants of her uniform couldn't hide. When the patrol car revved up and skidded angrily away, she felt suddenly deflated.

She hadn't wanted to reveal so many feelings in her first encounter with Karen. She had planned to display only dispa.s.sionate indifference that would hopefully inflict a mortal wound, like the one Karen had inflicted on her. Instead, she had only deepened her own pain.

Karen parked in the lot across the street from the Happy Harbor Inn and went inside. The usual crowd was in the bar-local bikers and a few weathered fishermen-drinking beer and yelling at a game on the television. She found a stool and plopped down.

"Evenin', Karen. Off duty?" The bartender, Dee-Dee Lovelace, greeted her. When Karen nodded, Dee-Dee grabbed a bottle of Wild Turkey from the shelf and poured a long shot, setting it in front of Karen.

"Hey, Dee-Dee." Karen downed the shot in one large gulp.

The heat spread quickly and she relaxed a bit, but it would take a lot more than one drink to ease her anger.

"How's Tommy doing?" Dee-Dee poured another one.

"He'll be fine. Addy's here."

"Addy? She is? That's great. I can't wait to see her. Geez, how long has it been?"

"Over six years, almost seven now, I guess." Karen tossed the second shot back, and this time she really felt it.

"Wow. Time flies. So...are you okay?"

Karen eyed her warily. Dee-Dee had been a friend to both her and Addy in high school, but she had been Addy's best friend first. Addy had shared everything with Dee-Dee, including the Miss Wilson fiasco.

"I'm fine. She'll probably swing by here at some point. But I can tell you right now, she hasn't changed one iota since she left. She still hates me."

"Oh, come on, now. That's ancient history. She can't possibly hold a grudge that long." Dee-Dee raised the bottle and Karen held up a finger for one more.

"Guess again." This time Karen sipped the liquor as it burned throughout her bloodstream.

The moment she'd laid eyes on Addy, the old feelings had washed over her like a gentle summer rain. She was mad at herself for not being able to clear up the Miss Wilson thing long ago. It really had been a mistake. The woman had seduced her, and she had let her hormones get the best of her. Besides, Miss Wilson had an experienced mouth that could do incredible things and she had let go of her inhibitions, even knowing what she was doing was wrong. Of all people to walk in on them, it had to be Addy.

When Addy had told her she'd be coming home, Karen secretly hoped they could patch things up. And when she saw her, her body said yes. But her brain was beginning to doubt the possibility. Addy had never forgiven her and probably never would. Fine. She had always been able to find comfort in the arms of various women in town. She didn't need the complications that Addy presented. She'd be around for a couple of weeks and then would probably return to California. Good riddance.

CHAPTER FIVE.

Addy carried her luggage upstairs to her old room, though she had contemplated putting it in the master bedroom on the main floor. But she couldn't bring herself to go into her grandmother's room yet. Addy couldn't imagine life without her.

The way her grandmother had died made her shudder. What were the odds of being hit by a piece of s.p.a.ce debris?

Her own room was exactly as she had left it six years ago. Nothing was out of place because she hadn't left anything personal in the room except the furniture and quilt on the bed.

Addy had removed her collection of photographs and stuffed animals, mementos of the time she had spent with Karen, before she left, not wanting any reminders of that painful time in her life.

Exhausted from her trip, she quickly unpacked. Methodically, she placed lingerie in the top drawer of her dresser and slacks and blouses in the closet, all color coordinated, and then ran a bath.

Even though it had been years since she had been in the house, she instinctively turned the cold-water tap for hot water and the hot for cold. She submerged herself in the claw-foot tub, luxuriating in its depth. The warm water relaxed her, and her mind drifted to the last twenty-four hours.

Losing Maureen was the least of her troubles. Their relations.h.i.+p had been less than satisfying, especially during the last two years. But Addy had hung on, avoiding the confrontation and histrionics Maureen inevitably introduced any time Addy said she was unhappy.

She hadn't expected the UPS driver, however. Even now, the idea of Maureen cheating on her conjured up all the old anger and insecurities she'd felt with Karen. And seeing Karen only magnified the feelings. But her body's betrayal really shocked her, because she had believed those urges were long dead and buried.

Squirming in the tepid water, she tried to ease the discomfort the memory caused. She sat up and turned the tap to warm the rapidly cooling water.

She really needed to focus on what was important right now-funeral plans and Tommy's future. Her savings would tide her over for a while, but now that she'd lost her job, she'd have to decide what to do with her own life as well. And soon.

Frank's gut told him someone was watching the house, yet each time he went out into the yard to check things out, he couldn't see anybody. But the odd sensation persisted. Something just wasn't right. A few days ago, he could swear he heard metal clanging against metal out by the old tractor. Though he started to investigate, the ache in his leg prevented him from climbing down the hill to the water line. Later, he'd sent Abel to check it out, but he hadn't found anything.

Yesterday had been so quiet-not even the wind blew in the trees-and he might have heard a camera shuttering, but was pretty sure he'd imagined it. His instincts had always served him well and had saved his a.s.s more than once in the Gulf. He sat in the dark, waiting by the window, and peeked out. The half-moon provided very little light, but his training had honed his night vision, and he only needed to be patient.

"See anything, Frank?" Abel asked on a puff of smoke.

"Quiet," he snarled.

Abel sat in the dark and sulked. They hadn't been able to turn on the television or play cards for hours now, yet each time he or Clarence fell asleep, Frank kicked them awake. Frank was probably being paranoid, but Frank was always paranoid. Ever since he came home from the war, he had been a little odd. But Abel knew as long as he did what Frank said, he'd be fine. "Ain't nothin' but crickets," Clarence whispered in Abel's ear. "Frank's crackin' up."

"Better not tell him that," Abel whispered back. "You don't want to make him mad."

"I ain't afraid of him. Hey!"

Frank kicked Clarence as hard as he could.

"Shut up, you idiot. I'm in charge, and you'll do as I say or you can crawl back to Vegas and try to find your mommy."

"You'd better not say anything bad about my mother, Frank."

Clarence stood up from his place on the floor, clenching his fists and shaking.

"Or what? You gonna beat me up, huh, Clarence? Try it, I dare you. Just try it. You'll wish you'd never been born to that wh.o.r.e."

Clarence slammed a fist into Frank's face, sending him cras.h.i.+ng into the rocking chair by the window. He jumped on top of Frank, and they rolled over and over on the hardwood floor, knocking over table lamps and punching each other without doing much damage.

While Abel sort of agreed with Clarence that Frank was losing it, and while Clarence was twice as big as he was, he knew better than to go against his own brother. Not because he was blood kin, but because, unlike Clarence, he was afraid of Frank.

Sighing, he jumped onto Clarence's back and joined in.

Scott Vinson crouched beneath the living room window and released his breath. For a desperate minute he was afraid he had been discovered, but peeping through the gla.s.s, he could distinguish shadows moving inside, apparently fighting. He had tracked Frank Gripp through paper trails from his job at the Department of Transportation, which he had left six months ago, to his family's house on the Chesapeake in the part of Anne Arundel known as South County.

Scott, an investigative journalist with The Deale Picayune, was working on a piece involving twelve density gauges that had disappeared from the department gradually over the course of eight years. That was much more than just a misplaced piece or two of equipment.

While not significant by themselves, the recent thefts had led a few knowledgeable scientists to comment about the minute quant.i.ty of radioactive material in each gauge. The scientists, members of the National Nuclear Security Administration, were tasked with retrieving these stolen pieces of equipment and returning them to their rightful place. It dawned on them that, in large quant.i.ties, these seemingly innocent objects could be used as dirty bombs. Even one gauge, put in a box with an explosive, while not capable of harming many people outright, would cause enough mayhem and billions in cleanup to warrant concern.

Digging deeper into the problem, Scott had discovered that over the past few years, thousands of pieces of equipment containing radioactive materials had gone missing nationwide from various businesses and government agencies. No one seemed to know where they had gone, and what was worse, no one seemed to care. Scott convinced his editor to give him some time off, and he immediately set out to find what was happening with equipment missing from the Department of Transportation.

He was surprised to learn that it was relatively easy to access the department's records, and even easier to sift through current and former employee backgrounds.

Frank Gripp stood out like a cannon among pistols, his military record as a demolitions expert the smoking gun. That, plus his very vocal antigovernment sentiment, clinched it. Scott had begun to monitor Frank's activities almost two years ago and became suspicious when Frank suddenly quit his job and isolated himself in Abel's house in Deale. When Frank's cousin showed up at the same time and they seldom left the house, Scott's investigative instincts perked up. Something smelled bad, and it wasn't the rotting fish along the Gripps' sh.o.r.eline.

Taking a chance, he aimed his Nikon F6 through the window and snapped a picture.

Addy stood over the grave of her grandmother, staring at the casket where it rested by the covered pit it would eventually be lowered into. On this lovely June morning, Addy had been pleased to see the turnout of neighbors who shared their memories. The priest went through the motions, but Addy only half listened.

The Catholic Church had been important to her grandmother, but Addy had long since stopped attending. Still, she recited the Lord's Prayer automatically, etched into her brain through years of Catholic schooling. She had in fact taken her first communion with this priest, who had to be at least as old as her grandmother by now.

Mumbling a few Hail Marys out of consideration for her grandmother, Addy crossed herself and bent to help the aging priest from the gravesite. She was leading him to the waiting funeral home limousine when she spotted Karen standing a respectful distance away. Karen nodded, but Addy turned her head, pretending not to see her. She knew that Karen had spent more time with her family than she had over the years and had every right to be at her grandmother's funeral. But Addy didn't want to talk to her now, while she was feeling so raw and vulnerable. She wiped her eyes with her handkerchief and clung to the priest, for her own sake as much as for his.

Back at the house, Mrs. Sweet.w.a.ter took charge of the arrival of huge platters of food, organizing them in the dining room and throughout the house. Meanwhile, Addy greeted familiar and not-so-familiar faces as people wandered through the rambling structure. Fern Bush, the local librarian, pushed her way to the dining room table and, with a grand flourish, displayed her pineapple upside-down cake. This presentation was received with the obligatory oohs and ahhs, and with a self-satisfied smile, Fern shoved several other plates of food out of the way to make room for the star of the show.

"Come on, now, everybody, eat up," she said. "You know, Adelaide wouldn't want to see a bunch of morose faces in her house. She'd have had you all dancing and laughing in no time."

The crowd surged to the table where the old priest liberally served up the spiked punch to these people who had known Addy's grandmother all their lives, and hers too. They were familiar to her, yet strangers after all these years, and she was distantly aware that they had been around her as she grew up, entering and exiting her life as though actors on a stage. But they were her grandmother's friends, not hers.

She left the people and smells of food and wandered to the backyard, eventually sitting in the swing that hung from an overhanging branch of the red oak.

"Caw! Caw!"

"You all right, Tommy?" she called.

"Yeah," he responded from above. "Is Grandma with the angels now?"

"Yes, yes, she is," Addy replied, more to herself than Tommy.

"What's gonna happen now?"