Remembrance (The Mediator #7)(95)
“I’m so sorry, Suze! I was just really worried. When you didn’t return any of my messages—”
“Oh, my God, David, I was kidding.” I hadn’t been kidding, actually, but after the day I’d had, I was too tired to think before I spoke.
I grabbed a beer and a carrot from the fridge, dropped the carrot into Romeo’s cage, then went to sit by Gina on my futon couch. I’d found her watching television when I got home, though she’d muted the show, deciding my phone calls were more interesting than her recorded episodes of The Bachelor.
“He’s only going to have to spend one night in jail,” I assured David. There, that sounded better. “At least according to his lawyer.”
This failed to reassure David, however.
Jake had already contacted one of his high-powered attorneys (when you’re in a business like my oldest stepbrother’s, you keep legal counsel on retainer. I tried not to feel nervous that Jake called his “DUI Guy”) and sent him down to the jail to ensure that Dr. Hector de Silva received the finest possible treatment until his arraignment (which wasn’t scheduled until early tomorrow morning).
The Monterey County Jail was actually supposed to be one of the better correctional facilities in the state—not that any of them were that great—so Jesse had lucked out in that regard. Like so many buildings in Northern California, it was on the National Registry of Historic Places. Cesar Chavez had been imprisoned there during the Salinas Valley lettuce boycott. Both Brad and Jake had spent time in what some referred to as “The Bay Area’s Most Affordable B and B” for various small scuffles and infractions.
“Jake says the food leaves something to be desired,” I told David over the phone. “But you get to meet a lot of interesting people.”
“This isn’t making me feel better, Suze,” David said. “What about Jesse’s job? Is he going to lose it?”
I tried not to allow the unease I felt about this show in my voice. “I’m sure he’ll be able to keep his job. Everyone at the hospital loves Jesse. And this whole thing was just a misunderstanding that happened while Jesse was off-duty. The charges against him are being dropped.” I swigged from my beer. “Everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”
“How did you accomplish that?”
“Let’s just say Paul was more than happy to cooperate.”
Paul’s actual response—or I should say, responses—to my text telling him that he’d better drop the charges, or I’d tell the Mercedes King the truth about him and Debbie, had been less gracious than that.
El Diablo Fine. But I want you to know that animal cracked my jaw in two places.
NOV 19 12:40 AM
El Diablo And now you’ve seen it with your own eyes, Simon. He’s not the saintly good doctor he pretends to be. There’s a devil inside him.
NOV 19 12:41 AM
El Diablo When you need to be rescued from him, call me. I MIGHT come get you.
NOV 19 12:42 AM
El Diablo But probably I’ll just let him crack YOUR jaw so you can see what this feels like.
NOV 19 12:43 AM
Harsh. But very Paul-like. I thought it was interesting that he considered Jesse the devil when it was very clear to me, between the two of them, who was the real prince of darkness.
Of course I didn’t share the details of Paul’s texts with David, but what little I did say alarmed him anyway.
“Suze! Isn’t that intimidating a victim? You could get in trouble.”
I had a nice laugh at the idea of Paul being a victim, though truthfully I wasn’t finding anything about the situation too funny.
“David, you have no idea of the stuff I’ve done this week alone that I could get in way worse trouble for.”
“Well, what about the house? And the curse? I’ve been talking to Shahbaz—we’ve met a couple times, actually—and it really doesn’t look like there’s any way to break it. At least, not any way written about in ancient Near East culture. I’ve read about a few Wiccan curse removal practices that you could try, though. I know Father Dominic wouldn’t approve, but—”
“David,” I said, pausing with my beer midway to my lips. “You haven’t told this Shahbaz guy anything about my gift, have you?”
“No,” David said, in a voice that sounded so guilt-stricken I knew he was lying. “Well, not in so many words. But I think he’d understand if I did. He’s actually very astute, and he’s really concerned about our old house being torn down. He understands how unsettling it might be for someone to see their childhood home destroyed to make way for a subdivision, regardless of whether or not there’s a curse involved.”
“Aw,” I said, touched by the wistful note in David’s voice. “That’s really sweet of him. But I think the house is going to be saved.”
“Really? How?” David was so surprised his voice cracked.
No way was I going to tell David about Paul being the true father of his nieces—especially if he was that upset about the house—so I said only, “It looks like the demo plans have been delayed. So we’ve got time to work on some alternative strategies.”
“How did you manage that, Suze?”
“David, it’s really late here, so it must be even later there. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”