Soul of Cole Page 7

  “Hey!” Detective Leonard Chin sounded both surprised and pleased to hear his old friend on the other end of the line. “I thought you died.”

  “No, it just feels like it. What’s new?”

  “Well, you should be thankful you don’t live here anymore. This whole city has turned into a giant outhouse. When you’re not stepping over human waste on the sidewalk, you’re dodging homeless carts, junkies and crunching needles under your feet. I’m really beginning to hate this place.” Leonard spoke with no humor in his voice. “What’s going on with you?”

  “We’ve got a case here that I wish you and I were working.”

  “I miss doing that.” Leonard’s chair screeched when he leaned back. “You’re the best partner I ever had, and you weren’t even a cop.” Both men chuckled. “So, what’s the story?”

  Cole’s spirits lifted. Just being acknowledged was the balm he needed for his emotional aches and pains. It was as Sherlock Holmes used to say, the game was afoot, if just for the next few minutes.

  “Okay, let me tell you. We have a minister and his wife shot dead in their home, the rumor is nothing missing, no suspects, no enemies, and no traces of forced entry.”

  “That sounds more like a mystery novel to me,” Leonard said. “Speaking of which, I read your book. I liked it, are you going to write any more?”

  “Yeah, I got some ideas.”

  “So, these dead people. You say it was a minister?” Chin brought the subject back around.

  “Yeah, he had been the pastor of a big church here, but in recent years he ran a center for Indian kids and their mothers, part after-school program, part parenting program, with some free nutrition thrown in the mix. Kelly has been volunteering there almost since we moved here. She can’t imagine who would want to harm those people.”

  “How old are they?” Chin seemed genuinely interested.

  “I’m guessing mid to late sixties. They have two kids, one that was out of the country and one works in the Children’s Center.”

  “Who found them?”

  “Their lifelong friends. They all went walking together every morning.”

  “Oh, that’s rough.”

  “Yeah, they’re not taking it real well.” Cole could see his old friend pondering the information as if they were drinking coffee across the table from each other.

  “So how would you rate the police there?”

  “The Sheriff’s Department is okay, but unfortunately this is the Police and they’re a pretty snotty bunch. Kelly seems to like the lead Detective. She said he was kind to the daughter and the people at the Center.” Cole paused. He was starting to feel homesick and the call was not helping. “To tell you the truth, I really called just to hear your voice. I can’t remember the last time I had an intelligent conversation with somebody. This town is not what you would call a pinnacle of cultural, gastronomic, or literary activity.”

  Chin laughed. “My wife keeps bugging me for us to move to Vancouver.”

  “Washington?” Cole was shocked by the idea of Chin leaving San Francisco.

  “No, British Columbia. She’s got three or four cousins that have come over from China. She says we should move there to be near them. I don’t have anybody left here and I’m really considering it.”

  “How many years do you have left before you retire?” Cole asked.

  “Too many. Once my daughter goes off to college we really have no reason to stay here.”

  “It sounds like you’ve got your mind made up.”

  “I don’t know about made up, but I’m certainly leaning in that direction. I had a case last month where we found five kids locked in an apartment with a dead dog and an empty bag of dog food. Nobody knows how long they had been there, but the M.E. said they all starved to death. We don’t know where they came from, who they belonged to, or why they were in there. Who the hell does something like that, Cole? What kind of animal lets children starve to death?”

  “You and I both know starving to death is way better than what could have happened to them.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I think I’ve just seen too much and it’s getting harder and harder to shake the images in my head. Why don’t you and Kelly fly out and maybe we can all take one of those cruises to Alaska?”

  “I’m sorry, who am I talking to?” Cole couldn’t believe his ears. Leonard Chin, in all the time he’d known him, never took a vacation. A long weekend here and there, or a couple days either side of a holiday, but real honest to goodness downtime with no threat of being called in on a case was unheard of.

  Chin laughed. “My wife has been bugging me to take her on a real vacation, not just a weekend trip to Carmel. I hear they don’t have internet on those ships unless you pay a hundred bucks an hour or something. And no phone service either.”

  Cole smiled broadly at this new Leonard, and he liked him even more. “Remember that time I was planning a railroad trip through the Canadian Rockies?”

  “Yeah, you never did get to go. We could do that, too. But I really like the idea of the big boat. I think the ladies would like it too. What do you think?”

  “I’ll talk to Kelly; it sounds like a great idea to me. I really need a break from all this peace, quiet, dust, and flat.”

  “Boy, aren’t we a pair.” Leonard’s remark was meant to be funny, but the melancholy in his voice crushed any irony. Cole heard the sound of a squawking police radio in the background. “I hate to cut this short, but I’ve got a call. Think about the cruise. I’ve got a couple of links I’ll send you. I really need to take some time off.”

  “Alright, good talking to you, buddy, be safe.” Cole felt like the call ended in the middle of his sentence.

  Cole set the phone back in his lap. He knew he missed his friend, but he didn’t realize how much. His thoughts drifted to the view from the Bay Bridge. He wondered if Kelly would agree to a ten day trip to Alaska. He wouldn’t care if the boat never left San Francisco Bay. It would be like heaven to see the skyline and Alcatraz again.

  Cole got lost in thought of all the times he rode across the Golden Gate Bridge when he and Kelly were first dating. He remembered his bike tires were flat. They had been for over a year. The bumpy, poorly paved road that ran in front of the house was not very good for riding. Cole smiled as he remembered the Marina and his long bike rides. For a moment he pondered getting up and going to pump up his tire, but realized it probably had a goat head sticker in it and it would be a totally pointless exercise. Maybe he should go get a new tube, but he didn’t feel like a trip to town. He would just run over another one on his next ride anyway. He put the thought out of his mind.

  Standing, he walked to the end of the porch and gazed at Ernie and Georgia’s house. Now that’s a lovely little place, he thought. Lots of flowers and green stuff surrounding it. He looked at his lawn and wondered what the patches of golden, dead grass were from. He walked down the porch steps and picked up the hose and turned the faucet on full blast. Turning to face the lawn, he began to spray the dead spots on his lawn.

  “Maybe that’s what I need!” he said out loud. And he turned the hose and squirted himself in the face.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Becca,” Sharon called from the kitchen. “I’m gonna fix something for lunch, would you like something?”

  Becca was sitting, her legs tucked under her, in a recliner in the family room. The curtains were pulled apart on the sliding glass door to the backyard. Russ was scooping leaves out of the pool. Without really reading any articles, Becca was thumbing through an old copy of Better Homes and Gardens just looking at the pictures and reading the occasional caption. Cassie left earlier in the morning with one of her girlfriends. Becca wasn’t invited and it was obvious she wasn’t welcome. She put the magazine back in the holder next to the chair and entered the kitchen.

  “I think we need some comfort food,” Sharon was standing with the cupboard open. “How about a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup?”

  �
�I haven’t had any since I left for Guatemala. You know it’s my favorite. You are so sweet, Sharon, to remember.”

  “Do you still dip the sandwich in the soup?” Sharon smiled holding up a can of soup.

  “Just watch me!” Becca smiled. “I have an idea. I think I’d like to go see Maryann Kopek.”

  “I think that would be very nice.” Sharon nodded reassuringly as she prepared the food. “She’s kind of been at loose ends since Molly died.”

  “I know she volunteers at the Children’s Center but I’d really like to go to the house and just reminisce about Molly. Do you think that would be okay?”

  “I think it might do both of you a lot of good. Why don’t you take my car after lunch and you can spend as much time as you want.”

  “Thank you. I think I’ll do that.”

  When lunch was over Becca put her bowl and plate in the sink. She gave Sharon a hug. “Thank you, that’s just what I needed.”

  “Let me get you the keys to my car. Remember, she’s just driven by a little old lady to the grocery store and to Bible study on Wednesdays, so don’t go hot-rodding around.” Sharon laughed as she searched for her keys at the bottom of her purse.

  “I don’t see any little old ladies around here.” Becca grabbed her sweater and purse.

  “Here you go, now get out of here. See if you can’t cheer Maryann up.”

  The drive to the Kopek home was as if Sharon’s car was on autopilot and knew the route by heart. As kids, Becca and Molly were best friends. They spent hours together; had slumber parties, went to the roller rink, and shared every lunch hour at school from Kindergarten through senior year of high school. In a way, Becca always felt guilty that she was closer to Molly than her own sister.

  Now that the initial shock of losing her parents was subsiding somewhat, the full weight of Molly’s death pressed down on her. She pulled up and stopped in front of the house that held so many memories. She sat for several minutes and almost decided to not go in but she felt a tugging at her heart and a need to see her best friend’s mother again. As she looked up, she saw movement in her peripheral vision and Maryann was walking across the lawn toward the car.

  Maryann seemed to have aged twenty years since the last time she saw her. Her hair was nearly white and she had lost a lot of weight. Becca got out of the car, and before she could get to the sidewalk Maryann took her in her arms and buried her head in Becca’s shoulder and began to weep. “It’s so nice to see you.” Her words squeezed out between her tears.

  Becca was unable to speak, her emotions were welling up and she decided to just take the comfort offered. Maryann reached down and took her hand. “Let’s go in the house.”

  As Becca entered the home she spent so many hours in as a girl, the familiar smell embraced her. Funny, she thought, how homes held their own special scent. The lives lived, the cookies baked, the candles that burned, the holiday meals, all seemed to infuse the soul of the house. It wasn’t so much that there were identifiable scents, it was more like a perfume that lingers when someone you love has left the room.

  “Maryann, would it be okay if I went to Molly’s room?”

  “Of course, sweetheart, I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  Becca went down the familiar hall to the second door on the right. The door was closed, but the small woven basket they made at church camp still hung on the door with a small bouquet of purple, silk violets resting inside. Becca took a deep breath and opened the door. Everything was exactly as she remembered it, except it felt older and void of Molly’s essence. She flicked on the light switch and moved across the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

  She glanced around at the posters, old soccer trophies, picture collages and the tree of necklaces that set on the dresser. Nothing had changed, but everything had changed. She ran her hand across the top of the quilt that Molly made when they were seniors in high school. So many memories, so many hours shared sitting on this bed after school and on weekends, as they went from girls to young women full of hopes and dreams. Becca stood and looked in the mirror above the dresser. She, too, had changed, seeing her frazzled reflection. She looked thin, and the look of grief showed heavy in her eyes.

  She was home, but there really was no home. She had no parents and she had no Molly. “I miss you Moll”, she turned and looked back towards the bed. “I really need you here.” Becca left the room and closed the door behind her.

  “Would you like a cup of tea? I have some of your favorite, chamomile.”

  “Yes, please. Becca took a seat at the snack bar. I wish I had a dollar for every page of homework I worked on here.”

  “It always amazed me how you girls could chat and giggle as much as you did and still get good grades.”

  “We cheated.” Becca giggled.

  “Oh, you did not.”

  Becca smiled seeing a glimpse of the Maryann she remembered.

  “Did you know that your dad was with Molly at the end?”

  “No. I know almost nothing of her being sick. Did Cassie come see her?”

  “No.”

  “How about my mom?”

  “Just once.”

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. Do you mind talking about it?”

  “It’s been very hard, Becca.”

  “Cassie said she had cancer?”

  “It was the strangest thing.” Maryann took the whistling teapot from the stove. “I think I noticed it before she did. She was dropping things. She’d go to pick up her fork and it would dangle in a weird way. It was little things, she complained once about the remote for the TV not working right. Then one day she came in the kitchen while I was fixing dinner and she said, ‘Mom I think there’s something wrong with me’.” Maryann handed Becca a cup of tea.

  “And what was it?”

  “The way the doctor explained it, she had a tumor on her spine that sent out runners, almost like ivy or something. By the time it reached her motor functions, it was so embedded and entwined, it was inoperable. Three months later she was gone.”

  Becca stared down at her tea. She knew if she looked up she would burst into tears. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, let herself. She needed to be strong for Maryann. “You said my dad was with her?”

  “Yes, he came to visit her several times in the hospital and then the doctor sent her home. Your dad came nearly every day for three weeks. They would sit and talk about you, he would pray with her; sometimes he would just hold her hand. Your father is a very dear man. Oh Becca, I’m so sorry. We’ve been talking all about Molly. How are you doing, dear?”

  “I’m still kind of in a daze. The sixteen hours it took to get home was kind of a decompression chamber, you might say. There was no one around me I knew, and I could bury my face in the pillow and sob. I got a lot of my grieving done on that plane. Now jet lag has kicked in and I feel almost numb. Russ and Sharon have been so kind.”

  “Those poor things. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for them finding your folks.”

  “You know, we really haven’t talked about it. I have a strange feeling we never will. I think it’s been far harder on Russ. He spends a lot of time in the garage or in the backyard. A couple of times I’ve caught him choking up looking at me from across the room. I feel so bad.”

  “Do you remember that dog we had, oh what was its silly name…Daisy?”

  Becca gave a chuckle. “You mean that mutt that Molly brought home from the pound?” Both women laughed.

  “She rode her bike to the pound without telling anyone and brought that silly dog home. Can you imagine those people giving a child a dog?”

  Maryann took a sip of her tea. “That was the third grade, right?”

  “Yes, nobody gave her permission and she just took it upon herself to go and rescue a dog. We had that thing for almost six years.”

  “That’s right. We were in the tenth grade when it died. I remember it upset Molly terribly.”

  “The thing you don’t know, it was hit by a car.”

/>   “You’re right, I didn’t know that.”

  “Molly was the one who heard it and ran out into the street. The car drove off leaving that poor little dog crushed, broken and dead. I remember looking out the window and seeing Molly holding the dog, and rocking it gently in her arms. I was thinking about poor Russ and that image of Molly came back to me. That poor man. Oh Becca, I’m so sorry, that must sound awful.”

  Becca looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Who would do that? Who would kill my daddy? Who would hurt my mom? I just don’t understand.” Becca’s shoulders shook as she sobbed. Maryann came around the end of the snack bar and held her in her arms. It was several minutes before either woman was able to speak.

  Maryann kissed Becca on the top of her head and patted her cheek softly. “We’re kind of alike, you and I.” Maryann cleared her throat and took a step back. “First I lost my Doyle and you lost your folks. And we both lost our Molly. So, it feels like we’ve both been cast adrift. The big difference is you’ve still got Cassie.”

  Becca sighed deeply. “We’ve never been close. She’s changed a lot since I’ve been gone and now I feel like we’re further apart than ever before.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Molly was always more like my sister. When Molly went away to college I felt all alone in the world. Then I went on my first mission trip. El Salvador was very dangerous for us. Once we were threatened by gangsters in the town and we had to go into hiding. While hiding in the house I knew we were going to be killed. I knew I probably would not survive the night. I found myself wishing I could talk to Molly just one more time.

  “Strangely, it wasn’t my parents or my sister I worried about receiving the news of my death. It grieved me to think of Molly hurting, and now it’s me who has been left alone. My dad always told us that God has a plan for everything. But, I swear I wish He’d give us a hint why all this has happened to us.”

  “I don’t have an answer for that. I do know I need to ask your forgiveness for not letting you know that Molly was sick. But I just didn’t know how to do it.”