Page 24 of Deputy Brand Gets Her Man
“Oh, I wasn’t put on the planet to cook,” she said.
“Really?”
“What? Why do you sound surprised?”
He shrugged. “The whole herb garden thing.”
“Oh. Yeah, those are for medicine, not cooking.”
“Medicine. Like ginger-tea-for-a-cold medicine?”
“Not exactly.” She pulled a small drawstring pouch from a jacket pocket then slid it right back in. He’d caught a glimpse of intricate beadwork along the upper third of the pouch. “Medicine,” she said. Then she handed him her plate, a half-sandwich still on it. “I’m fixin’ to wrap that up and take it home.”
“I’m flattered. And prepared.” He got up and went to take a square container with a tight-fitting lid off a flat rock nearby. “It’s one of your aunt Chelsea’s,” he said. “I figure it’s okay to re-lend, long as I keep it in the family.”
“I’ll make sure she gets it back.” She sat up in her chair to take the container and he brushed his fingers over her hand when she did. He saw the way her breath hitched, and it felt good clear to his toes.
She opened the container put the remaining half-sandwich inside and snapped on the lid.
He almost held his breath, then wondering whether she’d get up and leave, and for a moment, it seemed like that’s what she was about to do. But then she set the container on the ground beside her chair, took a long sip from her long-necked brown bottle, and leaned back in her chair once again, tipping her head back. Stargazing.
He returned to his own chair strategically placed beside hers before she’d arrived, grabbing another beer on the way, and took a similar position. “It’s beautiful out here,” he said.
“It’s different than where you’re from,” she replied. “In a lot of ways.” Then she sat up and looked at him. “I’m gonna ask you something, and if you don’t want to discuss it, that's fine. I’m just…curious about you.”
He sat up too, and set his beer aside. “All right.”
“Will you tell me what happened to your mamma?”
He wondered if it was a test. It seemed likely, the way she was watching his face, awaiting his answer. He’d been questioned by enough cops to know the look of someone watching for a lie. But it was colored by something else. Something soft, something real. And maybe hopeful. His answer was going to prove something to her.
“I don’t…talk about my mother,” he said. “Usually.”
“I’m sorry. Forget I asked.”
“She was great. She was, you know, everything. I guess moms always are, to a little kid. I was with her ‘til I was four, I think. She was beautiful. She had wavy blonde hair. She would sing and dance me around on her feet. And it was just the two of us. And then one day, she drove me to my father’s mansion, told me she loved me and would miss me and to be a good boy, and she drove away.”
He had howled, he remembered it. Standing on the front step wailing and trying to run after the car, as strong hands grabbed hold and brought him inside.
“Where did she go?” she asked, and her voice was more breath than substance.
“To the highest point she could find and right on over,” he said. Willow gasped and pressed a hand to her chest. “‘Course, I didn’t know that ‘til later,” Jeremiah went on. “He’d somehow got custody of me despite being in prison. I had a nanny, Marianne, until I was ten, then she left and was replaced by Reggie. Reggie was fun, kind of an Alfred to my Batman…you know?”
“I don’t. I haven’t seen a single Batman movie.”
“Oh, you need educating.” He smiled but if it looked as fake as it felt, it wouldn’t fool her.
“That was it, then?”
“Well, we had a cook, had an excellent chef for a while, and there was always an assistant cook, a couple of maids, a driver, a gardener. My tutor for many years was a stern old goat called Mr. Ford.” Saying the name brought the man’s face to mind, long and narrow with a goatee that made it even longer. “I never believed that was his real name. He was smart as hell, but cold as ice. Never expressed an emotion. For about six months in ninth grade, I seriously thought he might be a cyborg.”
“Jeremiah, that sounds like a terrible childhood.”
“Yes, it was. I was a poor little rich boy. And that is the first time I’ve ever told the whole truth to a peace officer, Deputy Brand. First time I’ve talked about my mother to anyone, too.”
He watched her face, wondering what she’d make of that. Her lips pulled into a slow smile and she got out of her chair and came closer.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m honored.”
