Rick Mofina - Into the Dark

“The pain never leaves you. Sometimes I can feel her, see her and hear her voice. I think about where she’d be now in her life-married with her own children, our grandchildren. And not a day goes by that I don’t ache to know who killed her.”

Bowen looked at him, feeling a surreal wave roll over them.

“And what would you say to him if you had the chance?”

Meadows’s head swung to Bowen.

“Plenty, I can damn well guarantee you.”

“What would you say?”

Meadows turned back to the hills.

“Did she suffer? Did she cry out? Did she fight back? Because I sure as hell know she would. What were her last words? Then I would ask the son of a bitch why he did it. Why did he do the things he did to her? Then I would ask God to make certain he burns for all time.” Meadows let a long moment pass while he blinked at the sky. “Listen, I apologize for going on like that.”

“No, it’s okay.”

They were interrupted when Meadows’s home phone rang.

“Excuse me,” he said, and stepped into the house to answer it. Alone on the patio Bowen heard his muffled voice. “Yes… Who?… Reporter?… All right, but you caught me at a bad time. Can I call right back?”

Meadows returned bringing an apology with him for the call and indicating the tour had ended.

“I guess that’s about all I can tell you about the house,” he told Bowen. “The agent’s contact information is on the sheet I gave you. So if you’re serious about an offer, get in touch with her.”

Meadows escorted Bowen to the door where they shook hands. Electrified by the touch, Bowen found Meadows’s eyes and for an instant kept his hold firm.

“Thank you for this,” Bowen said. “You don’t know how much I appreciate what you’ve done.”

When he returned to his car, Bowen got behind the steering wheel and buckled up. Before he started the engine, he let his head fall back against the headrest and shut his eyes.

His heart was pounding.

Malibu, California

Later that evening, Claire and Robert were sitting at a patio table at a cliff-top restaurant in Malibu.

It was a long drive up along the Pacific Coast Highway but it gave them a majestic view of Point Dume’s bluffs to the north, and the Queen’s Necklace to the south. They breathed in the salty ocean air as the waves tumbled over the beach below and breezes caressed Claire’s hair.

Robert had the filet mignon. Claire had the salmon with butter sauce. They shared half a bottle of wine and the waiter, an actor with dyed blond streaks in his chestnut hair, topped their glasses as the sun set.

On the drive out they’d talked about the likelihood of becoming parents and what room would make a good nursery; schools, college and careers-“He’ll be a pro quarterback,” “She’ll be a surgeon”-before they laughed it off. Now Robert looked tired and had become a little inattentive during dinner, Claire thought as she looked back on the day.

“So your appointment with the company doctor went well?”

“Yeah, he cleared me for my next trip.”

“And how are you feeling since the accident?”

“I’m fine.”

“Is there anything on your mind you want to talk about?”

He smiled at her.

“I thought you were off the clock.”

She smiled back.

“Claire,” he said. “I’m fine. Tell me about your day.”

“My day? Let me see. What can I tell you within the perimeters of what’s legal and ethical? Well. It was very busy catching up with the backlog. And the partner of one of my patients violated his restraining order and assaulted her in our parking lot.”

“Gee-zus.”

“Yup, I had to pepper-spray him. Police took him away.”

“Was she hurt?”

“No, not physically. She was shaken up by it all.”

“And you?”

“Me? I’m all right.”

“That guy’s an asshole.”

“That sort of thing happens from time to time.” She sipped some wine, unable to wash away that niggling feeling she’d had ever since the morning. “I noticed you were up early today and when I walked by your office, it sounded like you were on the phone to somebody. Who were you talking to?”

“Oh, you’re checking up on me,” he teased, grinning.

“You betcha, buddy. You’re a local hero.”

“I couldn’t sleep. I went in there to catch up on emails when I got one from a reporter in New York. I don’t know how the press gets our information. She wanted me for a network show, insisted I phone her. I called her back and said no, I didn’t want to make any more of this thing.”

Claire looked at him.

And was her name Cynthia? Claire thought, immediately scolding herself for being silly, irrational. How long had it been since Robert even mentioned his ex-wife? As far as Claire knew he’d had no contact with her, just as she’d had no contact with Cliff. Her unease arose from the fact that recently Robert had become withdrawn. Claire had to decide if she trusted that he was not involved in a secret relationship with his ex-wife. She looked out at the coast for an answer.

“Claire?”

“So what did you do the rest of the day after your appointment?”

“Well, Detective, I puttered in the garage waiting for you. Before that, I drove around, thinking I might go to the cabin for a few days to decompress before the next trip.”

“Sounds good. While we’re on the subject of the cabin…I was thinking, maybe we should consider selling it to start a college fund. You know I love it but I don’t get the chance to go up that often. What do you think?”

“Sell the cabin for a college fund? Whoa. Aren’t we getting ahead of things?”

“But on the drive out here, you said you were open to the idea.”

“You’re serious about this?”

“I’m definitely serious about it. Are we not on the same page here? This is all about our dream to start a family.”

The air tensed.

“Robert, we start the treatment in a couple of weeks. Think of all we’ve been through up to this point. You do want us to have a baby, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“What is it with you?” Claire caught herself and lowered her voice. “Lately you’ve been preoccupied.”

“I guess I was a little more rattled by the crash than I realized.”

“No, it’s more than that. This started weeks ago before the crash. Ever since I first found Dr. LaRoy, you’ve been withdrawn. I get the feeling that you’re keeping something from me. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been concerned by the rumors that the company might be making cuts. Then along comes the crash. Today when I was driving around, I could not stop thinking about what would have happened if I never pulled the woman and her baby from the wreck. I see images of them burning up. All of it has me a bit on edge.”

Claire looked into her wineglass and turned it slowly in circles.

What he’d said was reasonable and made sense, yet she wasn’t entirely convinced. Still, she didn’t want to push the issue.

“You’re anxious and you’ve got some post-traumatic stress going,” she said. “But I’m your wife. You have to talk to me about these things.” She reached for his hand. “I guess I still have a little fight in me from my encounter today.” Her fingers rolled over his wedding band, turning it playfully before she kissed his cheek. “Want to go home and see what we can do to relieve our stress?”

They drove amid the glittering streams of freeway traffic and the lights of L.A.

When they arrived at their home in San Marino, Robert complained that his neck muscles had stiffened. He started a hot shower to relieve his tension and invited Claire to join him as he stepped into the bathroom.