Blood Work

42

IT SEEMED that every light was on in Graciela’s home and this time McCaleb didn’t linger in the car. He knew there was no longer any time to brood over choices. He had to face her and tell her the truth-tell her everything and accept the consequences.

Once again she opened the door before he got there. This woman who cares so much as to watch and wait for me, he thought as he stepped to the door. Now I must crush her heart.

“Terry, where have you been? I’ve been so worried.”

She rushed from the door and embraced him. He felt his will weaken but not break. He pulled her around to his side and led her back in with his arm around her shoulder, holding her close for what might be the last time.

“Let’s go in,” he said. “I have things to tell you.”

“Are you all right?”

“For now.”

They went to the living room and he sat next to her on the sectional. He held both her hands in his.

“Raymond in bed?”

“Yes. What is it, Terry? What’s wrong?”

“It’s over. They haven’t caught him yet but they know who it is. Hopefully, they’ll get him soon. I’m in the clear.”

“Tell me.”

He squeezed her hands. He realized that his were sweating and let hers go. It felt as if he were letting loose a fallen bird that he had nursed back to health. He felt that he would never hold her hands again.

“Remember that night we talked about faith and how hard it is for me to have it?”

She nodded.

“Before I tell you everything, I want you to know that in the last few days-actually, in all the time that I’ve known you-I have felt something inside of me coming back. It’s a faith of some sort. Maybe a belief in something. I don’t know. But I do know it was a start, a beginning of something good…”

“Was?”

He looked away from her for a moment to try to put the words together. It was hard. He knew he only had this one chance.

He looked back at her.

“But it’s so new and so fragile, this change. And I don’t know if it can last with what I have to tell you. But I want you to decide. I haven’t prayed for anything in a long time. But I’ll say a prayer that I see you-and Raymond-on my dock again. Or I’ll pick up the phone and I’ll hear your voice. I’m going to leave it up to you to decide.”

He leaned into her and kissed her gently on the cheek. She didn’t resist.

“Tell me,” she said quietly.

“Graciela, your sister is dead because of me. Because of something I did a long time ago. Because I crossed a line somewhere and allowed my ego to challenge a madman’s, Gloria is dead.”

His eyes dropped away from hers. The pain he had just put into them was too much for him to witness.

“Tell me,” she said again, even quieter this time.

And he did. He told her about the man known for the time being only as James Noone. He told her of the trail he had followed to the garage warehouse. He told her what he found there and what was waiting for him on the computer.

She began to cry as he told it, quiet tears that rolled down her cheeks and fell to the denim blouse she wore. He wanted to reach out to her, grab her and hold her close and kiss the tears on her cheeks. But he couldn’t. He knew he was out of her world at that moment. He could not enter of his own choice. She would have to invite him back in.

When he was done, they sat quietly for a few moments. Graciela finally reached up and with open palms smeared the tears on her cheeks.

“I must look awful.”

“No, you don’t.”

She looked down at the rug through the glass coffee table and a long period of silence passed by.

“What will you do now?” she finally asked.

“I’m not sure but I have a few ideas. I’m going to find him, Graciela.”

“Can’t you leave it? Let the police find him?”

McCaleb shook his head.

“I don’t think I can. Not now. If I don’t find him and face him, I’ll never know if I can get past this. I don’t know if that makes sense or not.”

She nodded, still looking at the floor, and more silence went by. Finally she looked up at him.

“I want you to go now, Terry. I need to be alone.”

McCaleb nodded and slowly stood up.

“Okay.”

Again he fought an almost overwhelming urge to just touch her. Nothing more. He just wanted to feel her warmth once more. Like on the first day when she had touched him.

“Good-bye, Graciela.”

“Good-bye, Terry.”

He crossed the room and headed toward the door. On his way he glanced at the china cabinet in the living room and saw the framed photo of Gloria Torres. She was smiling at the camera on that happy day so long ago. It was a smile he knew would always haunt him.