Chapter 34 #2
“Why do kids do anything? She read about it, heard about it. Occult was in the movies. Joe might have even said something, I don’t know.”
I nodded. “And that night? What do you remember?”
“I remember that when she started playing her little game with that nasty board, there were five of us in the house. But by the time she stopped, there were easily a dozen more.” Grandma Kate fixed her gaze on me. “And they never left.”
We expected to return to find a quiet house, but we were wrong. Sam and Max’s parents had returned, and the Bells were there as well, along with a horse trailer large enough to contain the entire Kentucky Derby.
“More horses!” Claire practically bounced in her seat, laughing self-consciously when I glanced back at her. Max smiled beside me. A nice smile, open and hopeful. Something in my face made Claire’s joy ebb off a bit. “What? I think they’re good luck.” She turned to Steve. “Don’t you think so?”
He nodded in agreement, even gave her a smile, and I turned back forward, feeling happier than I trusted myself to feel.
Was I happy that Steve was making a new friend?
Or just glad that he wasn’t focused on me…
and shouldn’t that make me sad? Or angry?
Or…something? I batted away these pointless thoughts, impatient and irritated with myself. I needed to focus.
We left Steve and Claire at the barn and walked toward the house, Max watching the paddock the whole way. Now there were a half-dozen horses back there, and Mr. Graham stood against the fence, his hands gripping the top crossbar like he needed it for support. “This was your idea, wasn’t it?”
Max shrugged. “I figured if they were already old and infirm, they would soothe him. Dad, I mean.”
He left unspoken the end of that thought. That if his father had taken another gun out to the paddock, at least the horses were at the end of their lives, unwanted by anyone else.
I patted his hand. “You’re good people, Max. I don’t care what they say about you.”
He snorted, but as we came around the house, we noticed the trailer had hidden another car. A car that wouldn’t have screamed cop to me, necessarily, except that the license plate read 411—DUI.
I squinted at the porch. Officer Hernandez sat on one of the rocking chairs, watching us figure out she was here.
“That’s a Chicago police pool car,” Max observed, in an offhanded lawyer-like way. “Friend of yours?”
I grimaced. “Something like that.”
She stood as we popped open the doors and trotted down the steps. “Hello, Delia. Beautiful day. And you must be Max Graham?”
“I am,” he said, extending his hand for her to shake.
“Pleasure to meet you, Max. Delia and I met after Rabbi Mordechai passed. She mentioned you several times, so when I couldn’t find her, I figured I’d take a drive.” She gestured to the damaged house. “Looks like you’ve had some excitement.”
“But you’re not here, officially?” I asked, because Officer Hernandez didn’t look at all like her usual self. Her hair was brushed down around her shoulders, and she was in a loose T-shirt and jeans, and tennis shoes, definitely not in uniform.
“Not officially, no.” She shook her head, squinting down toward Claire and Steve at the paddock. “I kind of thought they might be here.”
“Any of Delia’s friends are welcome here, always,” Max said firmly.
Officer Hernandez’s eyes darted to Max, then back to me. I had to hand it to her; she sure didn’t miss much. “Friends are good,” she agreed.
I peered at her. “So…you were looking for me?”
She smiled at me, shrugged. “I’ve been a cop for ten years. Which isn’t a long time by some standards, but it’s still taught me a few things. Sometimes, you just have to go where your gut tells you to go and figure out why once you get there.” She nodded at Max. “The rescue horses were unexpected.”
“We like to shake things up.”
She nodded. “It’ll be dark soon.”
“Soon enough. I hope you’ll join us for dinner?” A midwestern offer, easily and authentically made. Max might have a house full of demons, but he also had good manners.
“Oh, I think so.” She looked at me. “I had a long conversation with Rabbi Ethan.”
A chill slipped through me. “Another one?”
“Yep. He told me to tell you that you have no business doing what you’re trying to do. That he’s read some sort of file that Mordechai kept, and he feels terrible about everything you’ve been forced to see in your life.”
Curiously, her words made me feel better. My stomach quieted, the emptiness filling up a little. “He said that? He’s not coming after me?”
“Oh, no.” Hernandez shook her head. “All he said was that his uncle was a good man, but he’d gotten a bit turned around when you came into his life. Apparently, Mordechai always thought he could help everyone, but sometimes people weren’t his to help.”
I frowned at her, newly confused. “And you decided to come out here after that? Why?”
She smiled, smelling of candy bars and coffee, and a sprawling family in the suburbs who couldn’t understand why she’d ever left. “Because I feel the same way, but sort of in reverse. Sometimes people are mine to help. And today, Delia Thompson, you’re my people.”