What We Remember. Michael Thomas Ford

death. He blamed himself for not having been there when the house was broken into, but the truth was that he had probably saved both his own and his daughter’s lives. He’d been chaperoning Nancy’s class trip to Hershey Park when the break-in occurred, and although his presence in the house may have scared away the intruders, it was more likely that he and his daughter would have died along with his wife. Rebecca had been killed by a shotgun blast to the head while she slept, and the house had been emptied of cash, jewelry, and things that could be sold for quick money. It was most likely the work of drug addicts looking for a quick score, and Rebecca had been a casualty rather than a target.

      Why it should be Bess who had shaken A.J. from his depression was something Ada could not understand. Perhaps it was because she reminded him of a happier time in his life. Perhaps, because she was the opposite of Rebecca, A.J. could be with her without feeling like he was making love to a ghost. Or, she supposed, he might really love her, although she found this difficult to believe.

      At any rate, they were getting married. They’d set a date in October. Daniel was to be the best man. Ada, to her relief, was not asked to stand up beside Bess. That honor was going to Bess’s sister, Louise, who had also left Cold Falls many years before and was now living somewhere in Minnesota. She was a few years younger than Bess, and Ada did not remember her at all.

      “Come on, girls. We’ve got some hot, juicy meat for all of you.”

      Ada looked up to see Bess standing over her, tongs in hand. She snapped them together—clack, clack, clack—and laughed. “Up and at ’em, Ada. I’ve saved you a good one.”

      Ada swung her legs over the side of the chaise and stood up. She reluctantly followed the other women over to the barbeque, where Bess was now handing out chicken and hot dogs and hamburgers, loudly exhorting everyone to eat as much as possible. When she turned to Ada with a piece of chicken held in the tongs, Ada shook her head. “That’s too much for me,” she objected.

      Bess instead dropped the chicken onto Dan’s plate. “Here you go, Danny,” she said. “I know you can handle it. You always were a breast man.”

      Dan laughed, and Ada stared at him, disgusted. Without waiting for Bess to offer her something else, she stormed over to the picnic table and began heaping a plate with macaroni salad, baked beans, and chips. Dan, coming up behind her, glanced at the plate and asked, “Aren’t you having a hamburger or something?”

      Ada snorted. “I’ve had enough ‘something’ to last me the rest of the night,” she said. “But you apparently haven’t.”

      “Whoa,” Dan said, touching her arm. “What’s going on here?”

      She pulled away from him. “That woman is what’s going on here,” Ada replied. “That loud, vile woman you all seem to think is so fascinating.”

      “Bess?” said Daniel. “You’re upset about Bess?”

      “I’m not upset,” Ada told him. “I just don’t like her.”

      “This isn’t about high school, is it?” her husband asked. “Because that would just be ridiculous.”

      “No, it isn’t about high school,” said Ada. “But even if it were, why would that be ridiculous?”

      “How about because it was a million years ago?” Dan suggested. “And you and I have been married for what, eighteen years?”

      “Nineteen,” Ada corrected him.

      Dan shook his head. “What is it with women,” he said. “You can’t let go of anything.”

      Ada, who was scooping ambrosia onto her plate, set the spoon down. “What exactly should I be letting go of?” she asked.

      “You’re jealous,” said Dan. “Plain and simple.”

      “Of Bess Kunkel?” Ada said. “You think I’m jealous of Bess Kunkel?”

      Dan, apparently not sensing the dangerous territory into which he had just wandered, nodded. “You always have been. Ever since that business with the ring.” He picked up a chip and put it in his mouth. “It’s okay. I get it. I mean, look at her.”

      Ada felt her hands shaking. She set her plate on the table and stepped back. “If for one second you think that I am jealous of that tramp, then you don’t know me at all, Dan McCloud.”

      Dan looked at her, clearly shocked. He said nothing as Ada continued.

      “And if you think that is something worth going after, then be my guest. Apparently you haven’t gotten over her after all.”

      She realized that several people had overheard the conversation, but she didn’t care. Let them hear, she thought. Better yet, let them talk. She knew they would, and she hoped Bess would be humiliated. But secretly she feared that she was the one who would be humiliated. When Olivia, or Anne, or even Evelyn heard what she’d said to Dan, the rumors would start. “Did you hear? Ada thinks something is going on between Dan and Bess!” She could hear it now, the whispers and the giggling, the stares and the exchange of knowing looks.

      Maybe, she thought, she had made a grave error in being so open about her hostility toward Bess. She should have kept the matter private between her and Dan. Instead, she’d broken the cardinal rule of domestic life and aired her laundry in public. True, not many people had heard, but enough had that what little spark she’d ignited would soon grow and spread.

      Dan was looking at her strangely, as if he’d never seen her before. She didn’t like the look in his eyes, which were filled with both hurt and anger. Suddenly she wanted to be at home, where it was safe. She couldn’t stand the idea that she was being looked at, that she was being judged. She felt vulnerable, and frightened, and she didn’t like what she had become. All because of Bess.

      “I’m not feeling well,” she said. “I think I should just go.” She turned and saw Anne looking at her. “My stomach,” she said vaguely. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

      She stumbled away from the picnic tables, away from the fire and the laughter and her husband. She waited for Dan to follow her, but he remained where he was, watching her run into the darkness. And as she ran she heard the sound of Bess’s voice, laughing as if she’d just heard the greatest joke in all the world.

      CHAPTER 13

      1991

      James pulled his car into the station parking lot and parked in a space at the far end. It was a habit from when his father had been sheriff; you left the spaces nearest the door for the officers. It surprised him that all these years later he still instinctively followed that unwritten rule.

      The station itself had changed little. The cinderblock walls had been painted a light blue instead of the gray that James remembered, but otherwise it looked the same. He pushed open the front door and went inside. Again, it looked much as it had in his father’s day. A few new pictures had been added to the Wall of Honor, but the counter in the reception area was still worn yellow and the air smelled like a combination of lemon polish and leather. Or something like that. James had never been able to accurately describe the odor, but the moment it hit his nose he remembered it clearly.

      He started to walk down the hall to where he knew Nate’s office was, but he was stopped by a young woman wearing a brown uniform. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You can’t go back there.”

      “It’s okay, Gwen.” Nate emerged from his office and waved James toward him. “Come in,” he said.

      As James had expected, the office was the one his father had occupied. It still held the same desk, and the same battered file cabinet stood in the corner beneath the window, with what very well could have been the same dead plant in a pot sitting on it. Nate took a seat behind the desk.

      “This is weird,” James said.

      “What?” Nate asked. Then he nodded. “I forgot. You haven’t been here since your dad died.”