The Guilty (Will Robie 4)
She put Tyler on her lap and pointed at Robie. “Ty, this is Will. He’s family. Your brother. Your big brother.”
Robie could see the little boy mouth the word brother, but no sound came out. But then he touched his chest and pointed at Robie. Robie didn’t understand, and looked at Victoria.
“It’s hi
s way of saying he loves you,” said Victoria. She placed her hand on her son’s chest. “He knows his heart is right there.”
Robie nodded and slowly put his hand on his chest and pointed at Tyler.
The boy immediately broke out into an enormous smile that managed to cut right through Robie’s normally hardened shell. Robie felt his mouth edge upward into a reciprocating grin.
He had never had a brother or any siblings at all. It had been just him for so long now. It was a bit overwhelming to realize that he had another “family” he never knew existed until he’d come back to Cantrell.
Victoria laid Tyler back in the bed and covered him with a sheet before kissing him on the forehead. “You have yourself a fine sleep, Ty Robie, okay?”
He nodded, ran his small fingers up and down her cheek, and then turned on his side and closed his eyes.
When Victoria rose from the bed Robie could see a tear sliding down her face. She brushed it away and said, “I’m going to have a glass of port to finish off the meal. Care to join me?”
She didn’t wait for an answer. Robie followed her downstairs, where she snatched two glasses and a bottle of tawny port off a sideboard before heading out to the back verandah.
They sat in hanging wicker chairs, drank their port, and looked out onto the rear grounds. The water from the pool shimmered under the moonlight. The briny smell of the Gulf, mixed with the chlorine from the pool, filled Robie’s nostrils. His eyes came to rest on the spot where he had last held Laura Barksdale.
He turned to Victoria. “Who did you buy the Willows from? Was it the Barksdales?”
“No, at least I don’t believe so. Dan handled all that. I remember he brought me here one day before our wedding and wanted to know if I cared to live here.” She smiled. “I mean, what woman wouldn’t? It’s beautiful. We put in the pool and spruced up the grounds and did some interior remodeling, especially with the kitchen, but the place had the most wonderful bones.”
“I knew the Barksdales. Are they still around?”
“Not that I know of. Dan never mentioned them. But if they were a prominent family I’m sure somebody here knows. Were they a nice family?”
“Yes,” said Robie. He took a sip of his port. “There was a daughter, Laura, who was very special.”
He turned to see Victoria’s gaze on him. “Special to you?”
“Back then, yes.”
“What happened?”
“People make different choices. Go different ways.”
Victoria sighed, kicked off her sandals, and drew her legs up under her. “Yes they do.”
“How did the doctor’s appointment go?”
“Not all that well. No breakthroughs or anything like that.”
“Are they sure it’s not a physical thing?”
“Yes. He has all the anatomical equipment necessary to speak.”
“Could he be autistic?”
“It’s possible. We’ve had him checked for that, of course, but there are so many different forms on the spectrum I don’t think the doctors can keep them all straight. And they’re making new discoveries every day in the field. Right now, they’re just puzzled.”
“He seems intelligent and aware of things.”
“He is. He’s perfectly normal except he doesn’t talk.” She paused, took a sip of port and said, “Our having Ty wasn’t exactly planned. Frankly, I’m a little old to be having kids, but it just happened. I think your father wasn’t too keen when we found out we were going to have a baby. But let me tell you, when Ty was born that man scooped him up in his arms and I don’t think he ever wanted to let him go. There’s something special about watching a big, strong man be so gentle with a baby, like they’re afraid they’ll break it if they’re not careful. Your father loves that little boy.” She added wistfully, “Sometimes I think he loves Ty more than he loves me. Maybe that’s a good thing, I don’t know.”
Robie searched around for something to say to change the direction of the conversation. “I guess it’s good that Ty is so young. He can’t really understand what’s going on with his father.”
“He understands more than people think. He may not be able to communicate in a conventional way, but that boy sees everything. And he feels things, too. Senses if folks are sad.”
“Like you are now?”
“Like I am now, yes.”
“His arraignment is tomorrow morning at ten. I assume you’re going?”
She looked unsure.
“Victoria?”
“I haven’t decided. I know it’ll look bad if I’m not there. But because I provided Clancy his alibi and the rumor mill is going strong that I slept with the man, folks might think it’s all disingenuous.”
“I still think you should be there.”
“Even if your father doesn’t want me to be?”
“Did he say that?”
“Sometimes it’s what people don’t say that’s the most important.”
“Well, I plan to be there.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“And I’m not leaving here until I get to talk to him.”
“Then I hope you’re prepared to be here a long time, because he is one stubborn son of a bitch.”
“In that regard I am my father’s son.”
“Where are you staying?”
“I was at Danby’s Tavern, but after my little run-in with Pete Clancy and his buddies, I was asked to leave.”
She put her bare feet on the planks. “Then you’re going to stay here.”
“Victoria, you don’t have—”
“Don’t give me any back talk, Will Robie. This is your father’s home, which means it’s your home, too. I’ll have Priscilla get one of the guest rooms ready. It’s not like we don’t have the space. And what’s southern hospitality if I can’t offer my stepson a roof over his head?”
She went inside to talk to Priscilla.
Robie continued to sit in his swing seat, staring out at a darkness that he was coming to understand might hold more uncertainty for him than any of his missions around the world ever had.
So much for coming home.
Chapter
18
IT WAS THE darkest point of the night immediately before the growing lightness in the eastern sky.
Robie rose from his bed in his comfortable guest room on the second floor of the Willows, slipped on his jeans, and padded out onto the rear upper-story verandah. There was a breeze that carried the salt air of the Gulf to the south and mixed it with that of the freshwater Pearl from the west. The comingled smells had been natural ones for Robie growing up. Indeed, he could hardly remember a morning here when he had not been greeted by that confluence of sea and river air.
Robie was a man well used to seeing everything around him, even if some things (and people) did their best to remain unseen. The slight movement to the left of the rear of the house immediately caught his attention. There was wildlife here, to be sure. But wildlife never walked upright on two feet.
It was a man.
Robie’s gun was under his pillow. He retrieved it, placed it in the back of his waistband, and clambered down the verandah column, alighting softly on the ground.
He squatted down, his eyes roaming from the point where he had last seen the movement and then to the left and right. He didn’t pick up on it again. And he heard no noise after that, neither feet running nor a car starting up.
He stood and tried to reconstruct what he had seen in his head.
Male. Six feet tall or maybe taller. Dark hair, dark clothing. Face