The Heat of the Moon: A Rachel Goddard Mystery (Rachel Goddard Mysteries) Page 10

  Mother had never taken this kind of interest in my work. Why should she? Healing sick cats and dogs wasn’t exactly her thing. What I couldn’t get used to was Mother treating Michelle like a colleague.

  “You’re home late, Rachel,” Mother said.

  I turned. “Mmm.”

  She removed the last serving bowl from the dishwasher and closed the door. “Have you had dinner?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  She placed the serving bowl in a cabinet. “You know, I can’t help wondering about you and Dr. Campbell.”

  I paused with my glass halfway to my mouth. “Wondering?”

  “I admit I’m a little concerned.”

  I glanced at Michelle. She was watching me with bright-eyed interest. “Concerned about what, Mother?” I said.

  A faint shrug of one shoulder. “He’s your employer. A relationship with him would put you in a vulnerable position.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “Then there is a relationship.”

  Damn. I sighed.

  “Why don’t you invite him over for dinner? I’d love to meet him.”

  Meet him. Inspect him. Grill him mercilessly in that soothing therapist’s voice. Find him lacking, in the end, not good enough for her daughter.

  I gulped from my glass to give myself a second to think.

  “Yeah,” Michelle said. She rinsed her hands under running water and tore off a sheet of paper toweling to dry them. “I’m dying to get a look at this guy.”

  “That’s rushing things a little,” I said.

  “Well, whenever you’re ready,” Mother said. “But I hope it’ll be soon.”

  I watched her move around the room, pick up a hand towel and hang it on the rack behind the sink, push the salt and pepper shakers into perfect alignment on the counter next to the stove.

  Then I looked more closely at her slightly slumped shoulders, a lapse of her perfect posture, and the hint of dark circles under her eyes. Sharp concern drove out all other thoughts. “Mother, do you feel all right?”

  “Oh, I’m just a little tired,” she said with a quick dismissive smile. “I seem to be getting into a pattern of insomnia.”

  Something was bothering her. She hadn’t been the same, really, since the night she told me I’d destroyed my father’s pictures. Michelle’s words came back to me: It tears her apart, having it all dredged up.

  Mother swayed on her feet and fumbled at the edge of the counter, trying to grab hold. Two steps and I was at her side, an arm around her waist.

  “Mother? Mother, what is it?” She was deathly pale. I gripped her wrist, feeling for her pulse.

  “Oh, don’t, Rachel.” She twisted her arm free. “Don’t make a fuss. I just—” She seemed to run out of breath, and for a second she sagged against me.

  Michelle, ashen-faced, was at her other side. “Come sit down.”

  “I think I’d just like to go up to bed.” Mother seemed to be regaining strength now, and drew away from me.

  “You shouldn’t be climbing the stairs,” I said. “Sit down and I’ll call your doctor.”

  “It was just a passing dizzy spell. All I need is a good night’s sleep.”

  “Let me help you,” Michelle said. She slid an arm around Mother’s waist, a hand under her elbow. I trailed them down the hall and watched them mount the stairs with their heads together, murmuring. I stood at the bottom of the steps, forgotten, unwanted, unneeded.

  My throat constricted. I wheeled around and returned to the kitchen, where I yanked open a drawer and grabbed a flashlight.

  The full moon drenched the back lawn in light, and I didn’t have to switch on the flashlight until I passed under the trees and through the wall of shrubbery to the cages.

  My only patient at the moment was a little opossum with an infected foot. When I trained the beam on him, he froze for a second, then scurried on three legs into his box shelter. He’d been eating the cat kibble and fruit I’d left for him when I’d stopped by the house on my lunch hour. The bit of pear with an antibiotic pill imbedded in it was gone. After two days of not eating, barely moving, he seemed on the mend.

  “Rachel?”

  I jumped at the sound of Michelle’s voice. Pushing past the shrubs, I came out onto the lawn where she stood. The flashlight in my hand cast a bobbing light over her face, making her blink and avert her head.

  “It’s spooky out here,” she said.

  I switched off the flashlight. “Then why did you come out?”

  She ignored the question and raised her eyes to the sky. In the moonlight her long hair had a silvery sheen. “Your comet’s gone. I never understood why you liked watching that thing so much. You had to stand out here an hour just to see any proof it was moving.”

  “Is Mother all right?”

  “She seems fine.” After a second’s pause, she added, “What’s wrong between you two? Are you still upset because—”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “How can I help worrying about it? I feel this tension in the house—”

  “Maybe I should think about getting a place of my own.” The words came out of nowhere, and left me feeling mildly shocked.

  “What?” Michelle stepped closer. “What on earth for?”

  “I’m almost twenty-seven. I ought to be on my own by now.”

  “But you were gone so long, and it seems like you just came back—” Her voice was high and breathy. “Can’t we keep the family together for a while before you leave again? Why do you want to be alone?”

  “It’s just something I might think about.”

  “So you’ll have a place to bring Luke Campbell?” She made it into an accusation. “Where you can have privacy?”

  “A little privacy might be nice. Mother still treats us both like children sometimes, Mish. She doesn’t want us to have men in our lives.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Didn’t she just ask you to bring him home so she can meet him? She’s willing to accept him.”

  “Oh, really? The same way she accepted Kevin? Right after he came to dinner, you broke that sailing date with him just to please her, didn’t you?”

  “What are you talking about? I told you why—”

  “She sat you down and convinced you it’d be a bad idea to get involved with him, didn’t she?”

  “I have a mind of my own, you know.” She folded her arms across her chest. “For your information, Mother and I never discussed it.”

  I didn’t believe her, but the more I prodded, the more adamant her denial would become. “Oh, to hell with it,” I muttered. I stared into the blackness under the tent of trees. Crickets sawed and frogs sang on the creek.

  Michelle touched my arm. “Rachel.” A soft plea. “I just hate this.”

  When I didn’t answer, she dropped her hand and said, trying to sound upbeat, “Are you ever going to tell me about Luke? I want to hear all about him.” She drifted into wistfulness as she added, “You used to tell me about the guys you dated.”

  Two sisters sharing confidences. I wanted to weep, for a closeness that seemed lost forever. I faced her. A breeze thrashed the branches above us and cast shifting shadows over the planes of her face.

  “I’ll talk to you about Luke if you’ll talk to me about Kevin,” I said. “I know you’re seeing him. Why do you feel like you have to hide it from Mother? Can you answer that?”

  I sensed rather than saw her body stiffen. She stepped back. “I’m going in.”

  She spun around and strode up the moonlit lawn, hurrying as if afraid I’d try to stop her. I waited until she was in the house before I followed.

  ***

  Outside Mother’s bedroom I stood for a moment with my hand raised before I made myself knock. “Mother, are you all right?”

  I expected her to open the door. Instead she called out, “I’m fine, Rachel. Go on to bed. Good night.”

  I bit down on my disappointment, telling myself she wasn’t rebuffing me, she was just tired and di
dn’t want any more fuss.

  In my room, I locked the door, then ran a hand under the mattress and slid out something I’d hidden: The Complete Book of Locks and Locksmithing. Settling on my little couch, I found the chapter titled “Decoding, Picking and Emergency Entry.”

  ***

  “All done.” I eased the last stitch from Maude’s shaved-bare forehead. “Pretty as ever. And what a good girl you are.” I kissed the basset hound’s muzzle and she caught me on the cheek with a wet swipe of her tongue.

  Mrs. Coleman laughed. “You’ve gotta move fast to dodge Maude’s kisses.”

  I tore a sheet from the paper towel roll by the sink and dried my face with it while I scratched Maude’s neck with my other hand. She sat on the exam table panting happily, her still bandaged leg stuck out to the side. I was ashamed to think how much I’d dreaded the dog’s visit, and how relieved I’d been when Mrs. Coleman showed up without her daughter.

  ***

  The field next to Dulles Airport was a fast-food carryout for hawks, serving up a steady supply of mice and rabbits to swooping red-shoulders, red-tails and sharp-shins. Luke and I stood in the sun and watched the hunt as departing and incoming planes roared low above us. Damian would arrive any minute with the rehabbed red-shoulder. On the back seat of my car, champagne was chilling in a bucket of ice.

  I hadn’t intended to mention Mother to Luke, but it came out unexpectedly, abruptly. “My mother wants to meet you. She’s started bugging me about it every day.”

  He jammed his hands into his jeans pockets and glanced up at a silver airliner climbing into the sky. He waited until the engines’ thunder subsided before he said, “She wants to check me out, I guess.”

  I shrugged. “Well, she is my mother. I’m not asking you to do it. I’m just saying she’s been after me to invite you. Don’t feel obligated.”

  His gaze flicked over my face. “Why are you so nervous about it? Never mind, you don’t have to answer that. Sure, I’ll come. It’s time I met your mother and sister.”

  A spurt of alarm made me want to protest, argue against his decision. Why had I done this? Inviting him to meet my family was a milestone, a signal of seriousness, and I wasn’t sure I wanted either Luke or Mother to think the relationship had a future. I knew I didn’t want to expose Luke to Mother’s scrutiny.

  I abandoned the subject with relief when I saw Damian’s beat-up brown van pulling up behind my car.

  “Hey, folks,” Damian called as he hopped out. “Great weather for thermals.” At the back of the van he swung open the door on the cat carrier containing the hawk.

  I peered through the grille. The bird hunched and glared. “Don’t look so mad at us,” I said. “We’re about to give you the thrill of your life.”

  I grabbed my falconer’s gauntlets from the back seat of my car and Luke and I followed Damian into the middle of the field. Damian knelt and extracted the hissing bird from the carrier. He didn’t let go until I had my gloved hands securely around the hawk’s body.

  I bent low to gain momentum, then threw my arms high and tossed the hawk into the air. His wings snapped open and pumped furiously, carrying him up and away from us, back into his own life.

  Laughing with a mixture of joy and envy, I lifted my arms straight out like wings. Fly away. Fly away free.

  “Here you go,” Luke said, handing me the cold champagne bottle.

  I forced the cork and yelped when the foam overflowed onto my hands.

  Chapter Eight

  An hour before Luke was due, I put on black jersey crepe slacks and a belted tunic of white silk. I thought I looked pretty good until I saw Michelle in a pink dress of some floaty material, her sheet of golden hair brushing her shoulders.

  I went back to my room and changed into a dress: deep blue, sleeveless, scooped neck, not tight but fitted closely enough to show off my figure. With a swipe of a tissue I removed pink lipstick, then I slicked on a coppery red. I ran my fingers up under my hair to fluff it out. “That ought to do it,” I murmured to my reflection.

  Down in the living room I fussed over the sofa cushions, plumping and rearranging them, and tugged at a vase of white roses and baby’s breath between glances out the window.

  “The flowers are perfect,” Mother said, coming up beside me. “But they won’t be perfect much longer if you don’t let them be.” She smiled and gave my arm a light squeeze just above the wrist.

  “Don’t worry,” Michelle said. She perched on the arm of the couch and grinned at me. “We’ll try not to disgrace you.”

  My answering smile felt feeble on my lips. I reminded myself that Luke was no high school or college kid coming to pick me up for a date. They couldn’t find fault with him. Anybody would like Luke. Anybody. And after overcoming his nervousness at being scrutinized by a shrink, he might get along perfectly well with Mother.

  I hoped he wouldn’t say anything to make her realize he’d been in the house before.

  His tan Range Rover turned into the driveway.

  “That must be him,” Mother said. “I’ll get the door.”

  I stayed where I was, although I wanted to rush forward and shield Luke.

  “Relax, for heaven’s sake,” Michelle said with a laugh.

  When Mother opened the front door the honeyed scent of spirea wafted in on the warm evening breeze.

  “Dr. Campbell.” She extended a hand as Luke stepped in. “I’m Judith Goddard. I’m glad to meet you at last.”

  She was warm and gracious, and I couldn’t help thinking of Kevin, who’d walked through that door not long ago believing she welcomed him into our lives.

  Luke was an ill-at-ease boy in a charcoal gray suit, white shirt and plain navy blue tie. He shook Mother’s hand, exchanged pleasantries, asked her to call him Luke. He looked beyond her, searching for me, and only when he found me did he smile.

  They stepped into the living room, Mother with a hand on Luke’s elbow like an adult urging a child forward. He came to my side quickly, and I was afraid he’d kiss me or take my hand, but he just grinned and murmured, “You’re gorgeous,” so low that only I could hear.

  Michelle was full of winsome charm, soft-voiced and big-eyed. A tiny spot of worry faded when I saw that Luke, while he was friendly to her, didn’t seem bowled over by her pretty face and feminine manner.

  “Rachel’s been keeping you a deep, dark secret,” Michelle said, almost impish.

  He glanced at me, one eyebrow raised, amusement on his lips. He looked incredibly handsome.

  Mother said, “Sit down, Luke, please. Let me get you something to drink. We have a bottle of white wine chilled.” A second’s pause. “Or would you rather have bourbon or scotch?”

  “Scotch, please.” I hadn’t seen him drink before, but he looked as if he could use a stiff shot of something. He sat on the sofa, leaning forward with elbows on his knees and hands clasped. “Just a little.”

  Mother went to the cabinet where the sweating wine bottle sat on a silver tray with four stemmed glasses. She opened the cabinet door and placed one of the glasses inside, then brought out a tumbler and a never-opened bottle of scotch. Her slight smile didn’t alter, but I realized with a sinking feeling that Luke had already disappointed her, failed a test he didn’t know he was taking. She would have expected him to accept what she mentioned first, probably expected him to notice the tray with the wine and glasses.

  The conversation began pleasantly enough, with questions about where Luke was living and how he liked working in McLean. We talked about plans for redevelopment of McLean’s Central Business District and decided the changes would have no impact on either the clinic or Mother’s office building. I watched Luke relax and heard his voice settle into its usual easy rhythm. So far, so good. But the evening stretched ahead like a minefield.

  My eyes strayed to my watch and the mantel clock a dozen times before Mother rose at last and suggested we go in to dinner.

  Our best gold-rimmed china, seldom used, a crisp new linen tableclo
th, a low centerpiece of mixed flowers: it was all perfect, and much more formal than I’d wanted. Silver candlesticks flanked the floral arrangement, but the candles were unlit and unneeded because the room was suffused with the soft golden light of the waning sun.

  Michelle appointed herself server for the evening, and she carried dishes in from the kitchen and set them on the table with a flourish. Rosario had prepared boned chicken breasts fragrant with wine and herbs. The sights and aromas of the meal didn’t arouse even a trace of appetite in my clenched stomach and dry mouth.

  When we’d finished the business of filling plates and wine glasses and passing the bread basket, Mother asked Luke how he came to buy the clinic. They faced each other down the table; Michelle and I sat on either side.

  “I had a place over in Maryland, kind of out in the country,” he said. “I wanted something bigger and easier for people to get to. And I liked the idea of my specialty practice being part of a full-service clinic. Lucky for me Dr. McCutcheon decided to retire when he did.” He grinned at me, on his right. “Lucky in a lot of ways.”

  I ducked my head, ridiculously self-conscious.

  “It must be a relief to the staff,” Mother said, “that you haven’t let anybody go or made any major changes yet. After the panic the sale caused.”

  I almost dropped my knife. I fumbled to keep the heavy silver from clanking against the rim of my plate. For God’s sake, why did she say that? I opened my mouth to speak but closed it in consternation. What was I going to do, tell my mother to shut up?

  It was a moment before Luke turned to me and said, “This is the first I’ve heard about any panic.”

  I shrugged. “You know how it is, somebody new taking over. People talk and wonder. But everybody settled down after we got to know you.”