Mark Gimenez - Accused

They went to commercial break.

"The D.A. was right," Scott said.

Karen looked up. "About what?"

"Her. She is annoying as hell."

"Bitch," Louis said.

"That, too."

"No, that's a five-letter word for 'female dog'."

They were dressed for church the next morning when Rebecca came downstairs looking like she hadn't slept all night. Scott caught Karen giving Bobby a quick glance.

"Where are y'all going?"

"To church," Scott said.

"You go to church now?"

"Pajamae got us going."

"You want to go with us, Mother?"

"Maybe next week, honey. I couldn't sleep. Anyone make coffee?"

"I liked that preacher," Pajamae said. "He was interesting."

They were driving back from church down Broadway when Scott spotted the red Corvette parked on 40th Street adjacent to the Old City Cemetery. He pulled over and parked.

"I'll be right back."

Consuela was up front, and Maria was sleeping in her car seat between the girls in the back. Scott got out and stepped over the low rock wall bordering the cemetery. A woman stood alone among the graves. He walked toward her, staying on the grid of sunken sidewalks fronting the graves of Confederate soldiers, members of the old Galveston families, and victims of the Great Storm, past gravestones and tombstones and family mausoleums, and cracked and weathered statues of Jesus, the Virgin Mary, and an angel with one wing broken off. Rebecca was wearing sunglasses and a black wig. She was standing over Trey Rawlins' grave, and she was crying.

"I guess you never really know someone," she said.

"Were you happy with him?"

She nodded. "I loved him. I thought he loved me. But I didn't know the truth."

Scott thought of Trey Rawlins' all-American image and the real Trey Rawlins he was getting to know. What else would he learn about the man lying in that grave?

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?"

"Because now I know how much I hurt you."

"Rebecca, you need to stay at the house. I don't want Renee Ramirez to know where you're at."

"That's why I wore the wig."

"The wig works, but not the car. Everyone on the Island knows you drive that red Corvette."

"Oh."

"Where'd you get the wig?"

"From my closet. I told Bobby to bring everything."

They played tourist that day. Scott tried to put the murder trial out of his mind and to be a father instead of a lawyer, at least for a day. The top attraction on the Island is Moody Gardens, a 242-acre, "public, non-profit educational destination utilizing nature in the advancement of rehabilitation, conservation, recreation and research." Three glass pyramids rise tall above the Island at Moody Gardens: the blue Aquarium Pyramid, where the girls shrieked at the sharks and posed with the penguins; the pink Discovery Pyramid, where they toured the "Forgotten Gateway: Coming to America through Galveston Island" exhibit which explained the history of immigration in Galveston, an entry point into America for white Europeans and African slaves-Negroes and cotton had been bought and sold on the docks of Galveston; and the white Rainforest Pyramid, where they touched the turtles and chased the birds and butterflies flying about the ten-story-tall, one-acre-under-glass living rainforest with plants, birds, bugs, and fish from Asian, African, and South American rainforests. The tarantulas creeped out Pajamae, but Boo thought the Macaws were cool. They took an extreme log ride in the IMAX RideFilm Theater and smelled the dinosaurs in the 4D Special FX film Walking with Dinosaurs. They took a ride on the Colonel Paddlewheel Boat and then finished the day swimming and playing on the white sand at the Palm Beach pool. Rebecca looked stunning in her black wig and white bikini.

She had recovered from her morning melancholy. She acted upbeat and energetic. She laughed and played with the girls. It was as if the knowledge of Trey's affairs had released her from his hold. As if she were free of Trey Rawlins. Over him. She was a different woman. When they walked out to the cars, Boo stopped Scott and said, "Mother's changed. She smiles… she's sweet… she sweats. I like her again."

Late that afternoon they played a game of touch football on the beach. Consuela, Maria, and Karen sat under a big beach umbrella and cheered. It was supposed to be two-hand touch, but Rebecca put a full-body tackle on Scott; he didn't complain. Afterwards, he walked up to the house to check on the final round of the Houston Classic, but stopped on the deck and looked back at Rebecca. She and Boo were walking hand in hand far down the beach. They were growing close again. He wondered what an eleven-year-old girl talked to her mother about.

"Would you mind having sex with A. Scott?"

" Boo. "

Mother had a shocked expression.

"What?"

"You know about sex?"

Boo nodded. "Health class."

"I should've been there, to talk with you about it."

"A. Scott tried to, but he was pretty lame. He gave us a book, with drawings."

"So why are you asking?"

"A. Scott needs sex."

"He's not dating anyone?"

"Nunh-unh. Ms. Dawson-she's the fourth-grade teacher-she's got a big crush on him, but he won't ask her out."

"Why not?"

" 'Cause of you."

"Is she pretty?"

"Very."

"Prettier than me?"

"No."

Mother smiled a little.

"Do you want him to date someone?"

"He has us, but he needs someone his own age. And he needs sex. I told him Ms. Dawson would probably have sex with him."

"Why?"

" 'Cause she's got the hots for him."

"No. Why does he need sex?"

"So he doesn't have a heart attack."

" A heart attack? "

"Unh-huh. From the stress."

"Is he under a lot of stress?"

Boo nodded. "He's not making much money, because he represents poor people who can't pay. I think we're broke."

"I didn't know."

"He tries not to let on, but he's worried. And he won't take any of the medicine he's supposed to take, so sex is the only hope for him. So we were thinking-me and Pajamae-that maybe you could have sex with A. Scott again so he doesn't die on us?"

"Well, I guess I could try. For his health."

Donnie Parker won the Houston Classic. He didn't look like a killer.

Pete Puckett did. He was good with guns and better with knives. He had killed and gutted animals. He had had his hands in blood. He had threatened to kill Trey if he didn't stay away from Billie Jean, and Trey didn't. Had Pete carried through on his threat? Did he have his hands in Trey's blood? Did he stab that butcher knife into Trey Rawlins' chest? Scott needed Pete's fingerprints to prove Pete Puckett guilty and Rebecca Fenney innocent, but Pete would be in New York all week for the U.S. Open. He wasn't fleeing the country, so Pete Puckett's prints would have to wait until the tour returned to Texas. And Rebecca Fenney's fate would have to wait another week.

They cooked hamburgers and drank beer on the beach that night. At ten, Scott tucked the girls in bed then went out on the back deck where he found Rebecca standing alone at the far railing. She was still wearing that white bikini. The sea breeze blew her hair and brought her scent to Scott.

"Boo says you're stressed because you're broke."

"She's a thirty-year-old woman trapped in an eleven-year-old body."

"She also said you need sex. She's worried you'll have a heart attack, said you refuse to take your medications."

"My medications?" Scott laughed. "They want me to take every heart drug advertised on TV."

"So you're not having heart problems?"

"No. The girls just worry. Bill Barnes-you remember him? — he died of a heart attack."

"Oh, my God."

"Ever since, the girls have worried I'll have a heart attack, too."