No Time for Goodbye - Linwood Barclay [52]
“That’s so crazy,” I said.
“And then she finds out she’s actually okay, and felt she could tell me everything, but I just wish she’d told me when she knew, you know? Because she’s always been there for me, and no matter what I’m going through, she’s always…” She grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. Finally, she said, “I can’t imagine losing her.”
“I know. Neither can I.”
“When you were so happy, that didn’t have anything…”
“No,” I said. “Of course not.”
I probably could have told her the truth. I could have afforded to be honest at that moment, but chose not to.
“Oh shit,” she said. “She asked me to tell you to call her. She probably wants to tell you this herself. Don’t tell her I already told you, okay? Please? I just couldn’t keep it to myself, you know?”
“Sure,” I said.
I went downstairs and dialed Tess.
“I told her,” Tess said.
“I know,” I said. “Thank you.”
“He was here.”
“Hmm?”
“The detective. That Mr. Abagnall. He’s a very nice man.”
“Yes.”
“His wife called while he was here. To tell him what she was making him for dinner.”
“What was it?” I had to know.
“Uh, some sort of roast, I think. A roast of beef and Yorkshire pudding.”
“Sounds delicious.”
“Anyway, I told him everything. About the money, the letter. I gave all of it to him. He was very interested.”
I nodded. “I would think so.”
“Do you think they can still get fingerprints off those envelopes after all these years?”
“I don’t know, Tess. It’s been so long, and you’ve handled them quite a few times. I’m no expert. But I think that was the best thing to do, giving him everything. If you think of anything else, you should give him a call.”
“That’s what he asked me to do. He gave me his card. I’m looking at it right now, it’s pinned to my board here by the phone, right next to that picture of Grace with Goofy. I don’t know which one looks goofier.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Give Cynthia a hug for me,” she said.
“I will. I love you, Tess,” I said, and hung up.
“She told you?” Cynthia asked me when I got up to our bedroom.
“She told me.”
Cynthia, now in her nightshirt, lay on the bed, on top of the covers. “I’d been thinking, all evening, that I would like to make mad, passionate love to you tonight, but I’m so dead tired, I’m not sure I could perform to any reasonable standard.”
“I’m not particular,” I said.
“So how about a rain check?”
“Sure. Maybe what we should do is, get Tess to take Grace for a weekend, we could drive up to Mystic. Get a bed-and-breakfast.”
Cynthia agreed. “Maybe I’d sleep better up there, too,” she said. “My dreams have been…kind of unsettling lately.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed. “What do you mean?”
“It’s like I told Dr. Kinzler. I hear them talking. They’re talking to me, I think, or I’m talking to them, or we’re all talking with one another, but it’s like I’m with them but not with them, and I can almost reach out and touch them. But when I do, it’s like they’re smoke. They just blow away.”
I leaned over, kissed her forehead. “Have you said goodnight to Grace?”
“While you were talking to Tess.”
“You try to get some sleep. I’ll say goodnight to her.”
As usual, Grace’s room was in total darkness so as to give her a better view of the stars through her telescope. “Are we safe tonight?” I asked as I slipped in, closing the door to the hall behind me to keep the light out.
“Looks like it,” Grace said.
“That’s good.”
“You wanna see?”
Grace was able to stand and see through her telescope, but I didn’t want to have to bend over, so I grabbed the Ikea computer chair from her desk and sat in front of it. I squinted into the end, saw nothing but blackness with a few pinpricks of light. “Okay, what am I looking at?”
“Stars,” Grace said.
I turned and looked at her, grinning impishly in the dim light. “Thank you, Carl Sagan,” I said. I got my eye back in position, went to adjust the scope a bit, and it slipped partway off its stand.
“Whoa!” I said. Some of the tape