The Coroner, page 23
“Oh, that bothersome incident,” Robert said, playing it off as inconsequential.
“I thought it was a heart attack. Am I mistaken?”
“That’s what they tell me. But what do they know. Doctors, right?” he said, and Brandon laughed. “Say, there’s a project I need to finish up out back. Why don’t you join me, and we can get to know each other better.”
“Sounds great,” Brandon responded with a side glance to Emily. She winked again and had a good feeling she knew what he was in for.
Robert stole Brandon away to the backyard. Emily and Cathy followed at a distance, safeguarding their conversation from the men.
“He’s handsome, Emily, and has a very nice disposition,” said Cathy.
“I’m not gonna disagree with you there,” replied Emily. He was as good on paper as he was in person in Chicago. How would he fare here? Out of his natural habitat?
Emily glanced over at her dad, who was showing Brandon how to use a wood splitter. Brandon balanced a piece of wood on a block. Her dad placed an axe in Brandon’s hands and signaled for him to wait. Then Robert raised his hands over his head in a chopping motion to demonstrate the maneuver and where to hit the wood. He indicated that Brandon should do a practice swing. Following Robert’s lead, Brandon raised the axe above his head and nearly toppled over backward.
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” Cathy said, laughing.
“I feel a little bad that I didn’t warn him.”
“You do? Really?”
“Nah. You should see what I deal with on his family’s side,” she joked.
Brandon took a second swing, this time aiming for the log. He came down hard, missing the wood and gouging the axe deep into the chopping block.
“Try again, honey. You can do it!” Emily called out. Brandon shook his head as he tried with all his strength to dislodge the axe. Robert stepped in and in one smooth motion released the tool expertly from the wood. He handed it back to Brandon, whose face showed a determination to whip this thing.
“So, how is my dad doing for real, Cathy?” Emily said.
“He sleeps in late, tires easily, and insists on a bowl of ice cream every night before bed,” she said with a worried look. “Last night I found him passed out in the bathtub.”
“Cathy, that’s serious.” Alarm bells were going off in Emily’s head. “What do you think is keeping him from getting surgery?” she asked.
“Honestly? You.”
Emily was taken aback. “I don’t understand.”
“He wants to reconcile. But he doesn’t know how.”
“Do you know what he’s holding back?”
Cathy shook her head. “And I’ve never asked. That’s between him and your mother and God.”
“Well, I’ve tried already. Several times.”
“Maybe you can reach out again?”
“I’m sorry you’ve been put in the middle of all this. You don’t deserve it.”
A loud crack shattered the air, followed by a celebratory whoop from Brandon. Robert broke into applause. Emily looked over and saw Brandon dancing around the wood block with two uneven pieces of log in his hands. Brandon held up his success for Emily to see.
“Good job, city boy,” she called back and couldn’t help but let a cheer slip from her mouth. Being out in the country like this, away from the constant striving to excel, was exactly the kind of thing they needed to reconnect. She liked seeing Brandon unwind and let loose. Emily had a strange but fleeting idea. Maybe Brandon would consider setting up a practice here, in Freeport County. There was always a need for good physicians in this rural community. Then she watched as Brandon brushed tiny wood splinters off his Italian wool slacks. Who was she kidding?
* * *
As dinnertime neared, Cathy insisted they stay for burgers and apple pie. They ate and then Emily pulled Brandon away to spend the rest of the evening with him. They returned to the Pennington and walked into Freeport so Emily could show Brandon where she grew up. The evening was cool and refreshing as they wove their way through Main Street and its bordering neighborhoods. Fall weather tipped the tops of the trees in red and yellow.
“That gray one with the white shutters was my where my friend Reena lived,” Emily told him as they walked down a street lined with Victorian homes. “And my elementary school’s only about four blocks from here, so after school, if my mom couldn’t pick me up right away, I would go home with Reena and her sister. I was always so jealous of Reena living so close to town.”
Brandon took Emily’s hand, and they continued along the lamplit sidewalk.
“Did you ever take a bus to school?” Emily asked him.
“No, I was one of those kids you would’ve been jealous of,” said Brandon.
“A townie,” Emily joked.
“A townie?” he said with a laugh. “Yes, I guess I was a townie. I walked mostly. But sometimes my mom or dad drove us to school if the weather was really bad.” Emily nodded.
“Living in a back-country town did have its advantages, though. We had a lot of snow days. If the bus couldn’t get through the back roads, then no school,” said Emily.
“I was expecting a much smaller town,” Brandon admitted.
“Really? Have you looked around?” she said playfully. “There’s only one stoplight. We didn’t get a McDonald’s until I was a freshman in high school.”
“No McDonald’s! You didn’t tell me you came from a third world country,” he joked.
Emily laughed and leaned into him, snuggling up to his warm chest.
“Hey, I know this sounds crazy, but are you happy in Chicago?” she asked him.
“Em, yes, you know I love it. Wait. Why are you asking me this?”
“It’s like we’re on this one track, and we never entertained any other options. Are we limiting ourselves?”
“I don’t think so. I know I’m not. Chicago is a world-class city. We have everything there. Family. Friends. Careers. Opportunity.” Brandon’s bright smile dampened. “Em, am I missing something?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just tired,” she answered. They walked for a few blocks in silence.
“Do you hear that?” she asked.
“Crickets. Birds. A frog somewhere,” Brandon responded.
“And the wind rustling through the leaves, blowing them to the ground. The sound of nothing but nature,” Emily whispered.
“It’s a little unsettling actually. Too quiet,” he said.
“Nah, it’s nice. I feel kinda detoxed from the city, you know? Like I’m not rushing around in a million directions. My mind is uncluttered. Like I’m removing years of boxes crammed in a tiny bedroom,” she said.
“Let me remind you why we love the city. Watching storms come in over the lake. Walking through the city streets after a foot of snow has fallen. Marshall Fields windows at Christmas. Sailing along the lakeshore on warm summer nights.”
“I … those are nice … but I don’t know that I would miss any of those things.”
“This may be nice for a few days. But living like this every day? Boring.”
“I never felt bored when I lived here before,” said Emily. “And I like that when I want to drive somewhere, I can actually find a place to park without circling the block five times. And there’s never a line at the market. People here ask you how you are doing, and they actually mean it.”
“I think you like the idea of a small town. And what you really needed was a good, therapeutic break.”
“It’s hardly been a break,” she said. “I’m sleeping less here than I do on hospital rotation. There’s just something comforting about being here. Like I don’t have to prove anything to anyone. I just am.”
“Well, you don’t have to prove anything to me.” Brandon drew her close again, and Emily smiled. “When are you coming home?”
Home. She had always referred to Freeport as home. And Chicago as … well, it wasn’t not home. It was just … Chicago. Emily did not feel safe admitting to Brandon that she had mixed feelings about leaving and no idea when she was returning.
“As soon as I can.”
“Oh. Good. Because I have one more surprise for you.”
“You do? You sure you don’t wanna save something for tomorrow?” she joked.
“I think this will make you want to hustle your butt back to Chicago sooner rather than later. Brandon pulled up a photograph on his phone and held it out so she could see the image on the screen. It was a four-story, Chicago brownstone with a black iron staircase leading up to a dark green front door with a brass knocker.
“What do you think?”
“I think it’s gorgeous,” she said.
“I’m so relieved … because it’s ours.”
The comment hung there between them. Emily knew Brandon was waiting for a larger reaction, but her practical side surfaced.
“How can it be ours? I haven’t even seen it.”
“Yes, I know. But you will. And you’ll love it.”
“What do you mean exactly by ‘it’s ours’?”
“I made the down payment, and all we need to do is get your signature on the paperwork. I brought the papers with me,” Brandon said.
Emily swallowed hard and tried to get a handle on the news.
“You bought us a house? When? I’ve only been gone a couple days.”
“Yes. Yes, I know. But, I mean, we’re getting married in three months. We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Where is it?” she asked.
“Lincoln Park. You’ll love the street. It’s right down from that Italian restaurant I took you to on our first date.”
Whole sentences flew out of her mind and ended up all jumbled in her throat.
“It’s been recently remodeled, but the old owners kept a lot of the charm. New kitchen, new baths, a marble fireplace. A small basement area, mostly just for storage. It’s a bit musty. And a two-car garage off the alley. Can you believe it? Two cars. In the city. No more fighting for parking.”
Emily finally managed to squeak out, “You’ve been pretty busy. Haven’t you?”
“I can’t sleep, I’m so excited.”
“You bought us a house that I’ve never even seen. You didn’t even tell me about it. You didn’t even tell me you were thinking about buying a house.” Emily felt like she was raising her voice, and she looked around, sure that people were staring from their windows. They weren’t.
She let go of Brandon’s arm and started down the sidewalk in a daze.
“I’m confused right now. This is exactly the kind of place we always talked about owning,” Brandon said, trailing after her.
Emily’s emotions teetered between seething and bewildered. Yes, they had talked, dreamed. But this was … real.
“Are you happy? Angry? Shocked? Disappointed? Help me out, Em,” said Brandon.
“Maybe all of those. My brain feels white.”
“Is this about not wanting to live in Chicago?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to live in Chicago.”
“I’m confused. Do you want to live here?”
“I dunno. Maybe? I don’t know.”
“Here here? Freeport-here?”
Emily shrugged.
“We’ve literally never talked about this.”
“And we’ve literally never talked about buying that brownstone.”
“It’s different.”
“Is it? And what do you have against a smaller town? Somewhere on the water? With a lake view. And fresh air. And maybe swans.”
“Swans?”
What was she saying? “You’re missing the whole point,” she said, running into a branch of a bush that was growing out into the sidewalk. It scraped her shin, and small beads of blood formed.
“Are you okay?” Brandon caught the branch with his left hand and snapped it off. “They ought to trim this off the sidewalk. It’s dangerous.”
“This is all moving too fast,” she said.
“Enlighten me. Please. You’re the one who wanted to bump up the wedding date,” he said.
Emily spun around and faced him. “I was drinking wine that night.”
“So you drunk texted me?”
“No. I wasn’t drunk. I only had half a glass. But maybe I was too …”
“Too? Too what?”
“Hasty.”
“So, you don’t want a Christmas wedding?” he asked.
Or a wedding at all. She couldn’t say it. She knew she wasn’t being clear in explaining the thoughts and feelings that had been emerging in the past few days. She hardly had a handle on them herself. The turmoil she’d stuffed away for so many years and thought she’d left behind was simmering up to the surface, along with an unexpected aching homesickness. Everything in her life seemed to be in question, even if she couldn’t form those exact questions just yet. She was the prodigal daughter returning home, but she hadn’t exactly asked for admission back into the fold. And she was still weighing whether she even wanted back. What would that mean? How could she even be a part of her father’s life again with so much pain still scarring the distance between them? That had to be resolved first and foremost.
And then there was Nick. Nick was … well, she didn’t know yet what Nick was. But she felt that there was something there. Wasn’t there?
And this case. Even if the Senator had played a sinister part in this. Julie’s mother needed to know how her daughter was killed. The whole town of Freeport was also depending on her, looking at her to come through like her father had time and time again. Further, she wasn’t about to let anyone down the way she had been let down facing her own mother’s death. Least of all, Sarah. She couldn’t abandon her promise to Sarah. She wouldn’t allow Sarah to suffer the way she had for so many years.
Emily’s lips parted, and she turned to Brandon. “What if we waited to get married?”
“Until when?”
Until secrets are settled with Dad. Until things with Nick are explored. Until the balance of justice in Freeport is set right again. But she could say none of these things. She didn’t have to. Brandon read them in her face. He stood there, looking at her in disbelief, his future draining away from him. She felt his despondency and wished she could ease it.
“Something’s shifted in you. Something I can never be a part of,” he said sadly.
She felt it too, but she didn’t want to admit it. Emily looked down at her bleeding shin but made no attempt to wipe away the blood. Why can’t you be a part of this, Brandon? Because you don’t know how? Or because you’re not willing? Emily couldn’t form the questions into words. She was too afraid of the answers.
All she knew was that this time, she did not want to run to Chicago and sweep everything under the rug.
45
Sunday morning Emily rose early, after a restless night’s sleep, with a kink in her neck and a sore spine. She sat on the edge of her bed, kneading her neck with the knuckles of her left hand that no longer sported a diamond. When they’d returned from their downtown walk, Brandon had decided to go back to Chicago. Emily handed him the ring and told him to keep it in a safe place until she could figure some things out.
After a long, hot shower, Emily felt better. She curled up on the bed and tried to come up with a plan for the day. She wasn’t even sure where to begin now that her life had shifted overnight. Visit Dad? Call Dr. Claiborne? Extend her hotel stay? How long would she be here? She grabbed her phone twice to call Brandon. Each time, she set it back down. The third time, she grabbed it and dialed Nick. She suspected Nick’s talk with Vince Parelli had not yielded anything new, or he would have contacted her. But she wanted to hear it from him. Actually, to hear his voice. Nick’s phone went to voicemail.
Emily decided she couldn’t sit in that hotel room a minute longer. She threw on jeans and a sweater and jumped in her Leaf. On her way through Freeport, she picked up two hot cups of coffee and two hot cinnamon rolls from Brown’s. She was glad Delia wasn’t working because she didn’t want to explain to her who that second coffee and roll were for.
* * *
Nick’s truck was in the driveway, but when Emily rang the bell, he didn’t come to the door. She walked around to the back of Nick’s house and found him sitting on his back porch in an Adirondack chair facing the lake. He was unshaven and wore a baseball cap and a ratty pair of jeans. He looked as tired as she felt.
“It’s really beautiful out here. I can see why you bought the place.”
“Yeah.” Nick kept his gaze straight ahead.
“Coffee?” She handed him a cup.
“Much needed.” He took a long sip.
“I brought cinnamon rolls too.”
“Thanks. Have a seat.” He motioned to the chair next to him. “Where’s Brandon?”
She shook her head and brought the coffee to her lips. She could feel Nick eyeing her hand.
“No ring?”
“Nope.”
“You okay?”
“I will be.” She handed him a roll wrapped in a napkin. “Don’t wanna talk about it, though.”
“I get it.”
“You okay?”
“I will be. I sat outside Julie’s funeral service yesterday. Don’t wanna talk about it, though.”
“I get it.”
Emily looked out over the lake. Two swans surfaced from nearby and glided toward Nick’s dock. Emily drank it in. In her head, she was comparing this view to her own dwelling back in Chicago, which was nothing even close to peaceful. Her back porch was big enough to fit a café table and two small chairs and overlooked an alley and dumpsters. Her front lobby door opened right onto the city street and deposited her into the bustle of commuters, bikers, and transients.
“Did you get a chance to talk to Vince?”
“I did. He was at home working the farm during the time of the murder. From what his family says. And how can I discount the eyewitness testimony of a mother and seven children? However, I went to a couple neighbors to corroborate.”
“Sounds like a solid alibi.”
Nick nodded. “This is the biggest case I’ve ever had, Em. And I’m screwing it up. And I’ll probably lose my job.”
“No, you won’t. You’re doing the best you can with what you have to work with,” she said.
