Too Soon: A Valerie Urniak Mystery, #5

By Rebecca A. Engel

When private detective Vince Cardonza, asks Valerie Urniak Harris to consult on a case, Valerie refuses to consider it without her husband Jacob's approval. After almost twenty-five of marriage, Jacob had enough of his wife putting her life in danger. But Valerie was certain that her compassionate husband will withdraw his edict once he learns a missing teenage girl is involved.

Valerie also can't refuse helping her former sister-in-law in her attempt to find her birth parents. There could be no danger in doing that.

On the eve of the new millennium, Valerie finds a document that threatens to turn the last twenty-five years of her life into one long lie...

Valerie can't believe things could get worse... until they do.

Too Soon is the fith book in the Valerie Urniak Mystery series. This book is set in Chicago, and  is set in 1999.

Books in this series:

Permanent Damage, Book 1

Contrive to Kill, Book 2

Variants of Deja Vu, Book 3

A Ring of Truth, Book 4

Too Soon, Book 5

Dangerous Undercurrents, Book 6

Zugzwang, Book 7

Alternate Lives, Book 8

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rebecca A. Engel
• Release date: Mar 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524249298

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

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1999

I wasn’t surprised to find that it was a closed-casket service. Along with the blanket of flowers atop the polished wood of the casket was a framed photograph of Claudia Cardonza, taken at least twenty-five years ago. She looked slender and beautiful, the way she’d been when I first met her almost thirty years earlier, which was not how she’d looked when I saw her for the last time a few weeks ago.

When I’d seen her then, describing her as haggard would have been a compliment. Cancer had ravaged her body and reduced her to a near skeleton, her eyes huge and sunken in her once kittenish face, her lips fissured and barely able to close over teeth that now appeared far too big for her mouth. At one time we had been as close as sisters, and certainly closer than I had been with my own biological sister. But I had left the hospital not sure my presence had registered with her since she’d gone in and out of consciousness throughout my visit.

Apparently she had known I was there, and it wasn’t me alone she remembered. When her husband Vince had called to tell me Claudia’s suffering was over, he’d said, with regret and apology mingled in his voice, that Claudia had expressly told him she did not want my husband at her service.

Jacob had been understanding when I conveyed that news to him, but then kindness and understanding were second nature to him. When he had been a practicing heart surgeon, one of the best in the city if not the whole country, he had never displayed the type of ego so common in men of his profession. Neither of us could understand the animosity Claudia harbored toward Jacob; it had certainly been unwarranted since Jacob had been nothing other than kind to and considerate of her.

Years ago, I had thought Claudia had treated him poorly because she somehow believed my friendship with him might threaten my marriage to John Wilson, and she had then blamed Jacob, not me, for the relative swiftness with which I married Jacob after John was murdered. I’d been certain that once she saw how happy Jacob and I were together, her attitude toward him would change.

That had not been the case. If anything, it had increased, and caused my friendship with her to falter and fade almost into non-existence. And that same animosity toward Jacob had extended beyond her shortened lifespan.

Since I arrived at the funeral home with little time to spare, I took a seat toward the back of the crowded ‘slumber room,’ as it was euphemistically called. Vince’s family was extensive and filled many of the rows of chairs, but because Claudia and I had been estranged for so many years, I wasn’t certain what the relationship of the other attendees were to her. Were they business acquaintances or clients? Members of their church? I could only speculate on who they were.

If one of my own patient’s last-minute crisis hadn’t kept me on the phone far too long, I might have had time to speak to Vince and his boys before the service began. I hoped I would have that opportunity once all the rituals were over. I glanced at the small program I’d been handed as I entered the room, and saw that in addition to the service here, there would be a mass, followed by the interment, which in turn would be followed by a luncheon. It was going to be a long day, and I was glad I had canceled all my patients today rather than assuming it would be possible to see those scheduled in the late afternoon. I’d been correct in thinking that I would not have time to see them after all.

A door near the front of the room opened, and through it walked Vince, followed by his four sons. His dark hair seemed to be shot through with more white every time I saw him, but that didn’t detract from his good looks. Something in his genes kept his skin taut. He had the kind of confident walk that came from his background in law enforcement. He had been a homicide detective with the Chicago Police Department, and my late husband’s partner. Vince retired from the force at Claudia’s insistence many years ago, and had first worked for a detective agency, then eventually opened one of his own.

Vince’s three older sons all looked like his clones. They had the same dark, curly hair that their father had when he was younger, and the same deep brown, heavily lidded eyes. The youngest son had fair hair. I knew he couldn’t have inherited that from his mother. Claudia had been a blonde throughout her adult life, but her hair had naturally been dark in color. She’d always been willing to do the maintenance that the deception of being a blonde required. In my brief glimpse of her youngest boy, I could not see any physical resemblance to either of his parents.

The service began once they were seated. It was cowardly of me, but I let my mind wander. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to think of Claudia being gone forever; I also didn’t want this experience to remind me of that awful time when John had been killed, and the debacles that had occurred at his wake and again at the gathering after the funeral. If Jacob hadn’t been there to see me through that time... When I did get to speak to Vince, to whom I had stayed far closer than I had to Claudia, I would have to make sure there was a support system to help him through this period of adjustment to life without his spouse. I couldn’t be his therapist because we were friends, but I could certainly refer him to someone if he acknowledged the need. I would also have to convince him that experiencing and dealing with his emotions from this experience would not make him any less of a man. I knew he was rather old school in many regards.

When the service at the funeral home ended, I filed out with the other attendees. Funeral home personnel discreetly inquired whether those leaving were joining the processional to the church or heading elsewhere, and directed us accordingly. The church was but a short drive away, and I wondered as I went through its doors when I had last been inside a church. Jacob was Jewish, though non-practicing; I had been raised Catholic but had lost my faith when my daughter died when she was six weeks old. Could it possibly be that the last time I was in a church was for my former employee Brenda’s wedding? I was working as a hairdresser then, and John was alive; we’d been newlyweds. That was over twenty-five years ago. I cast my eyes upward for a quick second, wondering if my stepping into a sacred space after such a long absence would cause the ceiling to tear asunder and the walls to crumble.

Both walls and ceiling remained intact. As the mass began, the years fell away from me, and the ceremony became as familiar as if I had attended mass last week.

When the mass ended, it was time to go to the cemetery. As I drove my car through its gates, I wished I had forgone this part. Memories flooded my mind. It nauseated me to remember burying my daughter when I was seventeen years old, and burying my husband seventeen years after that. I held firmly onto the steering wheel as I drove toward the burial site, and reminded myself that this was different; I would not be here to watch as the casket was lowered into the ground; I would not hear the awful thud of dirt hitting its polished surface. That was for immediate family members, if they chose to stay to witness it. I had chosen to do that myself for both my child and my late husband but that did not mean that Vince would do so, or that he would let his boys have that experience.

Vince’s boys. I smiled as I parked my car. I thought of them as boys, and I was sure Vince did too, but I was also sure that the older three thought of themselves as men. Except for the youngest, whom I thought might not have reached double-digits quite yet, the other three were men as far as the world was concerned. I could not stop myself from calling Vince’s oldest son by his baby nickname, at least in my head, ‘Little Vincie.’ Like my J.J., Little Vincie was almost twenty-five years old already, the other two, twenty-four and twenty-three. Claudia’s two oldest children had been born less than a year apart; she’d certainly had her hands full for a while.

A small crowd had gathered around the gravesite. Reluctantly I left my car to join them, staying at the outer edge of the group, and letting their bodies shield me from the sight of Claudia’s casket and the faux grass covering the hole into which the casket would be lowered. The priest was speaking almost too quietly for me to hear, so it was the people turning away from the grave that let me know this portion of the service was over. The program had given the address of the restaurant where the luncheon would be held. I was familiar with it, a family-owned Italian restaurant, a not-surprising choice given that was Vince’s ethnic background. If I’d already had a chance to speak to Vince and the boys, I might have been tempted to skip the luncheon, for I was sorely in need of Jacob’s comforting arms around me. It wasn’t so much Claudia’s death that brought out that need, but the memories of Eleanor and John’s deaths. Jacob had been at their funerals with me, and had seen me through my grief. I knew he would understand how today’s events had reawakened my memories. But I also knew Vince needed the support of his friends at a time like this. I would have to delay seeing my husband for at least a few more hours.

I was about to head to my car when someone tugged on my sleeve. I turned, almost expecting to see Vince, but instead saw a woman in her early forties. Brenda!

Brenda and Claudia had been my first two employees all those many years ago when I had left my career as a psychologist to open a beauty salon. She’d been fresh out of beauty school then, and already in love with the man who became her husband, and so anxious to become his wife that she married him within days of turning twenty. I had thought she would quit her job the moment they made their vows. But she had surprised me by continuing to work for me after her wedding, and by forming a partnership with her mother, sister, and another of my employees to buy my salon a few years after I married Jacob. That had allowed me to return to my career as a psychologist.

I didn’t see you earlier, I said, keeping my voice low in deference to our surroundings.

I didn’t get here until it was almost over, Brenda said. A client came in late, on the one day when I really didn’t need that. I saw you, but I didn’t want to approach you while the service was going on. But I do need to talk to you.

Are you coming to the luncheon? We could talk there.

Brenda shook her head. I can’t make it to that. You know how some people can be. I had explained the circumstances, but a couple women insisted they couldn’t change their appointments. I have to get back to the shop.

Do you want me to stop by your shop later? Brenda had turned my old beauty shop, located across the street from where Jacob and I lived, into a full-service spa, and had expanded its space when the business next door closed.

I can’t wait that long, she said with an air of desperation. Do you have a few minutes now?

My car’s right there. I indicated it with a nod. That will give us some privacy.

Once seated inside the car, Brenda was reluctant to speak. Is everything all right at home? I asked her, though I was certain that wasn’t the cause of her distress. Harry and the children aren’t having any problems, are they?

They’re all fine, she confirmed, and then burst into tears. It’s Claudia, she gasped. It’s my fault that she’s dead.

CHAPTER TWO

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It was later than I had imagined it would be by the time I stepped out of my building’s agonizingly slow elevator and let myself into our apartment. Jacob and I lived on the top floor of our building, which at one time had housed two three-bedroom apartments, each with a terrace. When the building went condo shortly after our marriage, Jacob bought both units and had them combined into one. Initially I had thought it would be too much space for us – a couple with one child and no chance of another – but the space, like Goldilocks’ final choices, had proved to be ‘just right.’ With our son J.J. living on his own, neither Jacob nor I showed the slightest inclination to want to move to a smaller space.

I called his name as soon as I’d opened the door, but there was no response. It hadn’t fully registered with me until this minute that his car hadn’t been parked in its space next to mine. I headed for the kitchen where Jacob would have left a note for me. And his note was there on the table. I waited as long as I could, it read, but decided I had to leave if I was going to get my swim in today. For years Jacob had run up to five miles every day, but he’d been forced to give that up a few years back when his knees began to show signs of deterioration. He wasn’t content to do without some kind of vigorous physical activity and had begun to swim each day instead, something he had previously limited to the coldest winter days when running outside hadn’t been possible. It had become his exercise du jour, being far kinder on his joints than running. Done in combination with a workout using weights he had instituted during his years as a surgeon, at seventy-six he was every bit as trim as he’d been when we’d first married almost twenty-five years ago.

If you’re back early enough, come join me. I looked from the time jotted at the top of the note to my watch. He had undoubtedly completed his swim and was on his way back home. Don’t bother cooking, we’ll go out tonight. Our boy called; I’ll fill you in later. Love, Jacob

Our boy. He’d underlined those words because it was his use of that phrase that had brought about our marriage.

Through the most serendipitous circumstances, I had been given the chance to adopt a newborn baby boy. I was running my beauty shop then, and had learned that my teenaged shampoo girl was hiding the fact she was pregnant. Her plan was to abandon the baby after its birth. She had, in fact, already left her home and was living on the streets to keep her parents from learning of her condition, lest they force her to keep the unplanned and unwanted baby. When I had discovered her situation not that long after I was widowed, I took her in, made sure she got prenatal care, and encouraged her to go through the proper channels to put her baby up for adoption. I was stunned when shortly before she gave birth, she told me she wanted me to adopt her baby. It was an opportunity I was not going to pass up, a second chance for me to raise a child and fill the void that had haunted my life for almost two decades.

I fully expected to raise my son J.J. – legally named John Jacob, after John, my late husband, and Jacob, because he was then my dearest friend – on my own. But by the time J.J. was a few weeks old, I knew I was irrevocably in love with Jacob, though it had been little more than six months since my husband had died. I thought, though, that it was too late for the two of us. I had always encouraged Jacob to find someone to love, and feared that he had already done that. But when he referred to six-week-old J.J. as ‘our boy,’ I had tearfully told him that making that statement a truth was what I wanted most in the world, for us to be a family, to have him as my husband, and J.J. as our son, our boy.

We were married three days later.

What would have happened if Jacob hadn’t used that phrase, ‘our boy’? Fortunately, there was no need to find that out.

I heard the sound of the elevator door opening. That would be Jacob, since ours was the sole apartment on this floor and no one had rung to be buzzed up. I went to the front door and flung it open as Jacob stepped out of the elevator.

I hope you checked before you opened that door, Jacob said, not unkindly. Sweetheart, you know you should always be careful.

That was a long time ago, I reminded him. And opening the door wasn’t the problem then. I wanted to change the subject. How about some tea?

At Jacob’s nod, I headed for the kitchen, with him behind me. Was today difficult for you? he asked as I started to fill our teakettle. We’d once had a microwave, but when something went wrong with it, we both were reluctant to replace it as we’d shared a concern about its long-term effects. Too many things had been touted as perfectly safe but later that stance had been reversed. Then there was Jacob’s belief that tea didn’t taste quite the same when the water was heated in that appliance. Neither of us found we missed it. I placed the kettle on the stove, turned on the burner, and then faced him.

It was. I finally answered his question.

You were gone a lot longer than I thought you’d be. Did you stay on to comfort Vince? I imagine he’s taking it hard.

He is, I confirmed. I’m having lunch with him tomorrow. Jacob’s eyebrows rose, but it was for effect; he knew he had no cause for jealousy with Vince, or with any other man in the world, for that matter. He wants some advice on how to handle things with his youngest.

As a means of finding out how to handle things himself? Jacob suggested as I got two mugs out of the cupboard.

No, I think his concern is for his son. I put the mugs on the table, then got the honey out. Jacob had long ago weaned me from white sugar, and he was adamantly against the use of artificial sweeteners.

So what kept you there so late? People from the past?

There certainly were a number of them there – like the Murphys. Murphy had been on the police force with John.

The infamous Murphy and his real estate mogul wife, Jacob said with a grin as I poured the now-boiling water into the teapot so the tea could steep. "Does he still insist on calling you Valerie Wilson Harris?"

I nodded.

Do you think if we invite him to our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary party, he’ll finally concede and call you Valerie Harris?

Who can tell with Murph? I asked, then, What anniversary party?!

I’ve been thinking we should have a party. And since it’s a couple months away, we’d better start planning it soon.

I poured the tea into the mugs, then sank into a chair. I’ve always thought our private celebrations were perfect. I hoped I didn’t sound too petulant. After all, how many women had a husband who actually wanted to have an anniversary party?

Our private celebrations have been great, Jacob said with an expression that showed he wasn’t thinking of the many trips we had taken for our anniversaries. Twenty-five years is an achievement – especially in light of how old I was when we got married.

I put an elbow on the table and rested my cheek on my fist as I leaned toward him. You’re saying that so I’ll tell you how young you look – as if you didn’t already know it. I don’t think you look any older than you did when we got married.

Jacob’s hand slid across the top of the table. I reached over to lace my fingers with his. When I look at you, I see the girl who came into my office so long ago.

I was seventeen then, I reminded him. I’m not buying that. Are you absolutely sure you didn’t kiss the Blarney stone when we were in Ireland?

You ask that when you’re trying to tell me I look fifty-one? I think you snuck in a kiss or two yourself when I wasn’t looking. He sipped from his mug. So why were you so late? he persisted with his earlier question.

You wrote that J.J. called. Anything special on his mind?

He wanted to know if we were free for dinner on Saturday.

To come here, to eat out, or to go there?

I don’t think that matters to him.

Dinner with J.J. by himself, or with Wendy, too?

I get the impression he and Wendy are a package deal.

I sipped my own tea while I thought that over. Our son had finished high school in three years, did the same for college, and went straight into law school, where he somehow managed to shave a semester off there while making law review. So at not-quite twenty-five, he’d been working as an attorney for close to two years already. He’d been pursued by many top law firms, both in Chicago and across the country. Instead, he chose to take an associate’s position with the State’s Attorney’s office. It was there he had met a young paralegal, Wendy Tran, and the two had been, as it was put these days, ‘together’ ever since. Jacob liked her, and I thought she was a nice girl, but I was somewhat concerned about J.J. making a commitment at too young an age. But if I’d known then what I knew now, and had circumstances allowed it, I would have married Jacob as soon as we met, when I was seventeen and he was thirty-four. Of course when we met, I was a pregnant and already married teenager who thought Jacob, with his prematurely white hair, was older than he was now. Jacob had been married himself at the time. There hadn’t been anything improper between us; he was my doctor and I was his patient, and that was that. There’d been no love at first sight, not like what J.J. had apparently experienced with Wendy.

She’s his first serious girlfriend, I finally conceded. Our son had dated a lot, in high school, college and law school, but his relationships rarely lasted long. Who knows? It could be a flash-in-the-pan thing with her too, over as quickly as it began.

The look in Jacob’s eyes told me he didn’t think that was so. I wondered, briefly, if J.J. had confided something in his father that he hadn’t told me. It didn’t matter; I’d find out sooner or later.

We finished our tea. I put the mugs into the dishwasher, and turned to look at Jacob. The look in his eyes was different now, and one I clearly recognized. As a teenager, our son had been grossed out by the fact that Jacob and I were openly affectionate with each other. J.J. went through a period where he would gag dramatically if he happened upon us kissing. I wondered how he would react if he knew that we continued to enjoy expressing our love for each other physically, although not quite as often nor as vigorously as we had in the earlier years of our marriage. I acknowledged Jacob’s look with a smile and held out my hand; together we strolled in a leisurely manner to our bedroom.

When I awoke, the room was almost dark. I could make out Jacob at the dresser, stealthily trying to open a drawer.

What’s going on? Are you going out? I asked, sitting up.

I didn’t mean to wake you, he said softly. I was called in on a case.

A chill ran down my spine. Who called? I didn’t hear the phone.

In the gloom, I could see that Jacob had gone still. I reached out and turned on my bedside lamp at its lowest setting; a dim glow suffused the room. It was enough light to see the startled expression on Jacob’s face, and the way his eyes were darting around the room.

You’re not fully awake, I said casually, glad my voice didn’t betray my own unease. As a doctor, Jacob had long ago trained himself to come awake in an instant; I was the one who sometimes confused my dreams with reality upon awakening, not Jacob.

I— I— His eyes darted around the room again. I think you’re right, I must have been dreaming. We’d been talking about things from the past, and I think that was on my mind as I drifted off. He came back to the bed and slipped between the sheets. I snuggled against him, my head on his shoulder. Or else I’m getting old.

I lifted my head and looked at him. You, old? Impossible!

The prospect of retirement is making me feel old.

Jacob’s privileges had been at a hospital that required surgeons to retire at age sixty-five. He’d retired from his medical practice then, but started a second career when he joined the staff of the medical college affiliated with his former hospital. But that position would be coming to an end when this semester did. It had been his decision to leave that job, but it sounded as if he might be having some regrets about doing that.

It’s the start of phase three of your career.

And what might that be?

You should write your memoirs, I suggested. "That way I can learn all those deep, dark secrets from the years we lost touch with each other. Or you could volunteer at a clinic. You’ve always kept your medical license current. I bet clinics would be fighting over the chance to have you on their staff.

I snuggled closer to him. If J.J. is serious about Wendy, you’ll get to be a full-time grandpa.

Grandpa, he chided. Most men my age are already great-grandpas.

You certainly weren’t acting like a great-grandpa a little while ago. I hip-bumped him."

I didn’t feel like one either. It was as if I was fifty again – except I’m glad I’m not, because at fifty I thought my love for you was hopeless.

Another flash of memory came over me. He’d been fifty when he’d re-entered my life, tracked down by my police detective fiancé who then invited him to our wedding, which was how we had renewed our friendship. That was providential, because it meant Jacob had been there to keep me together when John had been murdered before we’d reached our five-month anniversary.

I usually tried not to think of that time. Whether Jacob sensed he had awakened memories better left asleep and wanted to change the subject, or whether he realized I hadn’t answered his earlier question, I didn’t know. But he repeated that question now. If you didn’t stay late to talk to Vince, what kept you out so long today?

Brenda wanted to talk to me, but she couldn’t come to the restaurant afterwards, so when that was over, I went to her shop.

Is she having a hard time dealing with Claudia’s death?

I nodded. She is, but that’s not exactly the whole problem. Brenda thinks— I took a moment to consider my next words. Brenda wasn’t one of my patients and had spoken to me as a friend, not a therapist. I wouldn’t be betraying a trust by talking to Jacob about what she’d told me. Brenda thinks that Claudia’s death amounted to a suicide. And she’s blaming herself for it.

CHAPTER THREE

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I stood at the window of my office, looking out onto Sheridan Road. Parking was next to impossible in Chicago’s Rogers Park neighborhood these days. Jacob and I were fortunate in that we had two of our building’s much-coveted parking spaces in its small garage. Because of the parking situation, on most days I walked the couple blocks to my office. As I had often told Jacob, if I did drive to work, I’d end up walking that far anyway once I found street parking.

I was keeping an eye out for Vince to pull up. I didn’t want him to waste any time trying to hunt down a parking spot when I could run out and get into his car. And there it was, slowing down as it approached my building. I stepped outside and noticed his car was the same make and model the city used for police cars. I suppressed a smile as I pulled open its door. A man might leave the police force, but the police force did not leave the man.

He smiled a hello before easing back into traffic. He looked as if he hadn’t slept much lately, but he was cleanly shaven. The hair he’d always worn as long as police regulations would allow back when I’d first met him was a little shorter these days, but not so short it didn’t curl over his collar.

Got a place in mind? I asked him as the car headed south. I’d lived in this area so long, I figured I knew every restaurant in the neighborhood. Vince and Claudia had lived in the area too, at least for a time when they were first married. Once he’d left the force and was no longer required to live in the city, they had moved to a nearby suburb to have more space for their brood of active boys.

Yeah, Vince said. This little place down on Devon. It’s not much, but it has parking, so we won’t waste any time looking for that. I know your schedule’s always full, and I’ve got catching up to do myself.

You’re back to work already? I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice.

You sound like my staff, Vince acknowledged. But what am I supposed to do, hang around the house? That’s not going to accomplish anything.

I reached out and put a hand gently on his arm. You’re right. Some people cope best by keeping busy.

Guess I’m one of them. He made a couple quick turns, then slotted his car into an empty space behind a rather rundown-looking building.

I hadn’t paid much attention to where we were going, so when we walked from the car to the front of the building, I bit back a cry of surprise. I knew this restaurant from many years ago. There had been a clothing store nearby where Claudia and I sometimes shopped. We’d eaten here once after a shopping spree that had ended when I caught a glimpse of her trying on a sequined disco dress, and saw how bruised and battered her body was. That was how I learned her then-boyfriend was physically abusing her.

Like most abused women, she had been quick to make excuses for him and downplay her injuries. But I was not going to allow anyone I cared about to remain in a situation like hers, and had kept at her until she finally broke off with him. I couldn’t claim full credit for that; some totally abhorrent behavior on his part may have influenced Claudia to break up with him more than my urgings had. Their break-up resulted in him trying to kill both her, for rejecting him, and me, for interfering.

I mentioned none of this to Vince as we waited for the server to take our order. He hadn’t met Claudia until some months later. I wasn’t sure how forthcoming she had been with him about her life before they met. Besides, it would be pointless to tell him about it now.

I gave my order. As Vince gave his, I studied his face. When we were in his car, I thought he looked tired but otherwise pretty much as he normally did. Now, with a little more time to look at him, and viewing him face-on rather than from the side, I could see an underlying haggardness in his appearance. Rather than working, I began gently as our server walked away, you should consider taking a vacation. I think you need some rest. You and the boys could all go someplace together.

Vince shook his head. I guess you didn’t see her at the service, but Vincie’s wife has entered her third trimester. I’m sure traveling is out of the question for her, and Vincie wouldn’t want to leave her behind.

I didn’t see her, and I didn’t know she was pregnant. Why had he not mentioned that before? Wasn’t that like a man? You’re going to be a grandfather? Congratulations!

For a moment, a beam of pride took years off his face. Thanks. Marco got a big promotion at his job so he can’t take any time off, and Dario is in college, so he’s in the same boat as Marco and can’t just take off on a whim. And, of course, Bobby is in school, too.

I guess I wasn’t thinking, I said as the server put a plate of crab Rangoon before us. I hadn’t heard Vince order it. I remembered how much I used to like them – before Jacob reformed the way I ate, and fried foods became a thing of the past. So why was it that my fingers were twitching with an urge to pluck one of the golden triangles from the serving plate?

Have one, Vince urged. When I shook my head resolutely, he had no compunction about taking one himself and biting into it. I wondered how he managed to stay so trim if he ate such fat-laden foods. After he’d swallowed, he said, I think we should try to get on with our lives as normally as we can.

I thought of a trip because I know this has been a stressful time for all of you.

He sighed. That’s true. It all happened so quickly. Two months ago, I thought my wife was in perfect health – and now she’s gone. If only there had been some warning signs sooner.

For an instant, all my bodily functions froze. No warning signs? Could it be that Brenda was right?

I’m worried about Bobby, Vince said, pushing the plate of crab Rangoon, with one piece missing, toward the edge of the table. He’s taking it hard.

That’s understandable.

Not to me, at least not the way he’s taking it. He’s not sad—he’s angry! And this is a kid who’s always been easygoing and good-natured. But he’s behaving like dying is something Claudia did on purpose.

Vince, that’s not that unusual in a child that age. He may believe she did it on purpose. I pushed any thoughts about Brenda’s belief away. She was his mother, and in control of so much in his life that he viewed her as omnipotent. His belief would be that she was also in absolute control of her own life and death.

Vince slumped down in the booth and raked a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. You’re kidding.

He may also feel that by dying, she was showing she didn’t love him enough to live. It’s a confusing time for a child.

Now both hands were in Vince’s hair. What am I going to do? He looked across at me. Can you talk to him?

I don’t think I’m the right person to do that. I’m not a child psychologist. I deal with women and their problems.

But you and Claudia were friends – or you used to be close. Won’t you do it for her?

Because we were friends is one of the reasons I shouldn’t do it. But I can refer you to several psychologists who specialize in children. One of them has a grief group for children that Bobby might benefit from. It could be especially helpful for him to see that other children are going through what he’s going through.

Yeah, I could see where that might be an advantage. Vince was quiet while the server placed our entrees on the table. The older boys, they’ve got each other to turn to, and Vincie has a wife, and Marco and Dario both have girlfriends. With the age gap between them, Bobby can’t count on his brothers for support. They love him, but I think he’ll always be the baby to them, someone to play with, not to help with any emotional needs.

We began to eat, but I noticed Vince was picking at his food. You need to eat, Vince, I said, but I remembered how difficult it had been to have any interest in food after John died. I had been on my own then, except for Jacob, but Vince had his family relying on him. You need to keep your strength up. The boys need you, Bobby most of all. I looked at him again and noticed for the first time that his suit was a little too big on him. It looks like you’ve already lost some weight.

He shrugged. These last two months, with Claudia in and out of the hospital so much, and then the last two weeks, with her in there all the time, so sick, so weak... I didn’t want to eat when I knew she couldn’t. If we’d known sooner, we might have caught it in time. He buried his face in his hands.

Brenda’s suspicions twisted at my heart. There were no warning signs?

She didn’t say anything. He sniffed a little and frowned in thought. I thought she was a little thinner, but you know how it was. With her business, she had to be thin. She was always working out to keep herself strong and healthy. What was the point in doing that? That’s what I wonder now. In the end, it didn’t do her a bit of good.

Claudia had struggled with her weight after having three children in as many years, and with my encouragement had gone back to school and become a nutritionist. She had then opened the first of what became a small chain of fitness centers geared toward women and their weight issues. As their spokesperson and symbol, Claudia had seen it as her duty to keep herself as trim and healthy as possible.

Sometimes senseless things happen, I offered.

I guess you would know that firsthand, Vince said, with what happened with John.

Now I pushed my plate toward the edge of the table, and Vince did the same. Guess lunch wasn’t such a good idea, after all, he said.

It is too soon for this, I agreed, but I am available to talk to you whenever you need to talk to someone.

You’ll talk to me, but not my kid?

You and I are friends, Vince, but Bobby doesn’t know me. And as I told you, I’m not a child psychologist. He’d be better off seeing someone who specializes in dealing with children, and particularly with children in Bobby’s situation. I reached into my purse and pulled out the list of referrals I had already prepared.

Vince took the list and tucked it into an inside pocket of his suit jacket. Are you sure that’s the reason you won’t talk to Bobby? You sure it’s not some kind of way to get back at Claudia because she didn’t want Jacob at her service?

Vince! My voice was sharp. As a therapist, I was accustomed to speaking calmly and keeping my emotions in check, but I was not a therapist here, I was a friend who had been gravely insulted. I can’t believe you would say such a thing! I can’t believe you would think such a thing!

You’re right. I was out of line with that remark. I don’t think that of you, and I don’t know why I said it. He sounded miserable.

You’re in pain. You’ve lost your wife. Your whole world has changed.

You’re too understanding and forgiving. If I’d made a crack like that to Claudia – she’d have taken years to get over it, and there was no guarantee she would.

Everybody’s different.

You can say that again. Claudia wasn’t one to forgive and forget.

I sensed there was something Vince wanted to tell me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it. I could have said something then to change the subject, or told him I had to leave. But I did the thing I often did as a therapist: I kept quiet to see what would happen.

Didn’t you wonder why Claudia disliked Jacob so much?

I half-shrugged. She didn’t like him from the start, but as far as I could tell, there was nothing that he did to provoke it. I figured it was one of those things. I happen to think he’s wonderful, but she was entitled to her own opinion, although it was wrong. I smiled lest he think I was trying to belittle his late wife.

It had nothing to do with Jacob himself.

Again I had the urge to change the subject, to insist we had to leave. But again I stayed silent.

It was that he looked like this neighbor she had when she was a little girl, or so Claudia said.

Jacob didn’t grow up in Chicago. I didn’t know why I’d been compelled to say that.

I know it wasn’t Jacob, Vince said with a touch of impatience. Claudia told me his name and I checked him out. He was already an old man when I did that, and he died a long time ago.

Vince’s eyes moved away from mine, and I had a premonition of what was coming.

That neighbor – that pervert – had sexually abused her from the time she was five until she was fifteen and her family moved away.

CHAPTER FOUR

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I wasn’t sure how I got through the rest of my afternoon. When I should have been concentrating on my patients, I was thinking back over my friendship with Claudia, wondering why I hadn’t noticed then the signs of someone who had suffered sexual abuse as a child. It was true that before her marriage, she had bordered on promiscuity, but the sixties were ending when we’d first met, and sexual freedom had abounded then. I had thought the freedom with which she gave herself to men was simply a sign of the times. But then she’d willingly accepted a relationship with a man who had abused her physically, and she’d been willing to accept responsibility for the way he’d behaved, claiming she had provoked him. Why hadn’t I picked those things up as warning signs of someone who had suffered childhood sexual abuse?

I hadn’t asked Vince for any details about the situation, but somehow I doubted Claudia had any counseling or therapy to help her deal with the aftereffects of her abuse. I wondered too if anyone besides Vince knew it had occurred. I could not explain why I had the feeling that Claudia’s family moving away had been simply a coincidence, and not a deliberate act to stop what was going on. I was glad that her relationship with Vince had been supportive enough for her to confide in him without fear of losing his love. I knew through my work that this type of secret was something some women kept to themselves for decades and didn’t want their husbands to know about. It made me sad that she hadn’t been able to confide in me, at least before I became involved with Jacob. I reminded myself that there had been aspects of my own life that I hadn’t shared with her. Our friendship clearly had not been as close as I had once thought. I always believed I was the one withholding things, but it turned out both of us were guilty of that.

My nerves were tense, my mind racing, as I walked from my office to our home. With each step I found myself fervently wishing that Jacob would be there when I arrived.

Jacob! I called out the second my foot stepped into the apartment.

In here, he answered, and relief flooded through me.

I followed his voice to his study. He was sitting at his desk, working a crossword puzzle, in ink, of course. He had strived to keep his body in top physical condition his whole life, and he did the same with his mind. It wasn’t enough that he’d been a doctor and a gifted surgeon, and had taught at an outstanding medical college; he had pursued other intellectual interests and was knowledgeable in many fields. Lately he had decided to challenge himself with mind games, and had settled on crossword puzzles as his favorite mode. No easy puzzles with big squares for him; he tackled the hard ones, the ones with few black spaces, and clues that I sometimes did not understand myself. But for Jacob, they were as easy as tic-tac-toe. He had encouraged me to work them too, often buying two copies of the paper that had his favorite puzzles in it so we could work side-by-side on the same puzzle. But I found I much preferred games such as mazes or find-a-word. Jacob told me that my preference reflected the logic and orderliness of my mind, which he claimed was the reason I had been so good over the years at amateur detective work, something he did not want me to pursue anymore.

Jacob put his paper aside as soon as he saw me and held out his arms. I went to him and snuggled myself onto his lap, thinking as I did that we sometimes acted like a couple one-quarter of our chronological ages. Striving for healthy living was keeping us young after all.

You’re so tense, Jacob commented, his fingers kneading at one of my shoulders. Difficult day with your patients?

I moaned a little as his fingers probed a particularly tender spot, then shook my head.

Was it your lunch with Vince? I nodded. But you’re not ready to talk about it, are you?

He certainly knew me. I need a little more time to think it all through. I should go for a run to work off this tension.

Absolutely not. I won’t have you running by yourself. Jacob spoke firmly.

I wanted to protest. It was light out and would be for hours. Running by myself would not put me in any danger. During the years that we ran together, I was often by myself during those runs. Jacob, a much faster runner than I was, took off without me after we warmed up since he could run more than double my distance in the same amount of time. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t run alone before.

But I held my tongue. I had noticed that lately Jacob was acting overly protective of me. As a surgeon, then a professor, he had wielded a lot of authority, but he’d always been one who had used it with grace rather than in an imperial manner. But his impending retirement could be making him feel powerless now. The way he had chided me about not checking the peephole before I opened the door last night could have been his way of regaining some of the power he felt he was losing. But I had no desire to see him continue that kind of behavior, telling me what I could or could not do. I’d have to speak to him about it if it did. I had no intention of letting him become a father figure in our relationship. Despite our age difference, he hadn’t been that in the past, and he wouldn’t be one in the future either. We had entered this marriage as equals, and as equals we would stay.

I know what you need. Come on. He scooted me off his lap, and for a moment I thought he was going to lead me to our bedroom. I wouldn’t have objected to that, not in the least. But instead of farther into the apartment, he took me by the hand and out the front door.

Where are we going? I asked. His response was to smile mysteriously. Part of me verged on irritation. If he was going to take me over to Gus’s Deli across the street and treat me to a cookie, like I was some three-year-old—

In the lobby he turned not toward the street exit but the garage. Where are we going? I repeated, but he would not tell me when we got in his car.

You should have given me a chance to change first, I protested when the health club we had joined several years earlier came into view.

You’ve got extra stuff there, Jacob said logically. Your suit won’t get too messed up hanging in the locker for an hour or so while we swim.

Didn’t you swim already today? On certain days, he was able to fit his exercise in mid-day.

A little extra swimming won’t hurt me. You need to blow off some steam, and I happen to like to be around you. He shot me a grin that made my heart turn over.

I’ll meet you at the pool, he said as we entered the building. He headed for the men’s locker room, I for the women’s.

I slipped out of my business suit and into the tank-style swimsuit hanging in my locker. Not too shabby, I thought as I caught a glimpse of myself in the locker room mirror. Sharing Jacob’s healthy lifestyle had kept me trimmer than I’d been when we’d first become reacquainted, and truth-be-told, I had more energy than I’d had then. I hoped it wasn’t vanity that made me think that the happy life I had with Jacob and J.J. had kept my face from looking like the sixty-year-old woman I’d be at my next birthday.

The pool area was deserted, except for the handsome man who happened to be my husband. He looked good in bathing trunks, and I was certain that male members of this club a fraction of his age envied him his physique. He wasn’t muscle-bound but he was certainly firm, toned, and sculpted.

We got in the pool, me cautiously, easing into the cool water, Jacob jumping in with a resounding splash. We began our swim side-by-side, but soon Jacob pulled out ahead of me. He wasn’t showing off; he was simply a better swimmer than I was, the same way he’d been a better runner. I didn’t expect him to hold himself back on my account. I swam steadily and mindlessly, lap after lap, until I could swim no more.

Jacob was waiting for me in the lobby when I emerged from the women’s locker room. He smiled as I approached him. You look much more relaxed, he commented.

Not like a drowned rat? I laughed. I had rinsed my hair in the shower but hadn’t bothered to dry it, as I planned to wash it later this evening. I also hadn’t wanted to put my work suit back on because my wet hair would drip on it. I had dressed for the ride home in the workout clothes hanging in my locker, and had my suit in one arm, my wet bathing suit in a bag in the other.

You always look gorgeous, wet or dry.

I leaned over to kiss him. You, Doctor Harris, know the best medicine – a hard workout followed by a wonderful compliment. I feel so much better than I did when I came home.

Flattery will get dinner cooked for you while you continue to relax. I saw you had some salmon in the refrigerator, and everything I need to make a salad.

"Oh, the joys of being married to a liberated man. Make that a liberated, renaissance man, because there’s nothing you can’t do."

That kind of flattery might get you dessert.

It was over dessert – sliced peaches with a small dollop of honey-sweetened whipped cream – that I told Jacob what Vince had told me about Claudia.

That poor kid, he said, putting down his spoon. It’s no wonder she didn’t want anything to do with me.

That was one of the reasons I loved Jacob so much. He wasn’t angry with Claudia for her unwarranted resentment toward him; he didn’t berate her for blaming him when he was blameless. He had sympathy