Tender Is The Night(19)

"We certainly wouldn't do that," she agreed.

He was happy to see St. Bernadette's on the next block. They were veering back into dangerous territory.

Since school was in session, they first stopped in the office where the  principal told them that the counselor had already reported the details  of their conversation. She escorted them to the library and asked the  librarian to get them the yearbooks from the years when Rick Baines  attended school there. She went on to say that she couldn't provide  contact information, even if she had it, which she didn't, since it had  been twelve years since Baines had attended the school.

A few moments later, the librarian handed them the yearbooks in  question. "You're welcome to take them with you, but we hope you'll  bring them back."

"We will," Devin promised, happy that they could take the books out of the library.

As they left the school, Kate said, "There's a café not too far from  here. In fact, we can walk. Want to get some coffee while we go through  these?"

"Sounds good." He fell into step with her as they walked down a  residential street, then into a more commercial area with shops and  restaurants.

The Bird's View Café was on the third-floor rooftop deck of a building, offering a view of the city from the outdoor tables.

"This is cool," he said, as they took their coffees out to the deck. "I didn't know it was here."

"We used to come here in high school when we were cramming for tests. I  wasn't sure it was still open." Kate tilted her head as she looked at  him. "It occurs to me that I don't know very much about you, Devin.  Where did you grow up? Was it here in San Francisco?"

"No, I grew up in Sacramento."

"Does your mom still live there?"

"She lives in Sonoma now with her husband and her daughter."

"She remarried after your dad died?"

"She remarried before he died. My mom left my dad when I was about ten.  She said she got tired of waiting for him to come home from work."

"I'm sorry." Kate's eyes filled with compassion. "I didn't know that."

"It was a long time ago."

"Who did you live with after the divorce?

"Technically, my parents shared custody, but I mostly lived with my mom.  Then she fell in love and got remarried and was happier for me to spend  more time with my dad. When she had my half-sister, she really had no  room in her house for me, so whenever my father was in town, I was with  him. But then he died, and I was back with her and her second family."  He let out a breath, irritated with himself for telling Kate so much,  because he'd only ignited more questions.

"How old is your sister now?" she asked.

"Jordan is twenty. She's a junior at Sonoma State."

"Do you see her? Do you see your mom?"

"Not very often."

"When was the last time?"

"I don't know-Christmas a couple of years ago."

"You haven't seen them since you moved here, since you've been living like an hour away from them?"

"I'm not part of their lives."

"That's ridiculous. Your mom is always going to be your mom. She loves you. And I'm betting your sister does, too."

He shrugged. "It's all fine. We don't hate each other. We just don't see each other."

Her lips tightened. "If that's the case, it's not all fine."

"Hey, you've been in the city three days and haven't told your parents you're home."

"That's different. I'm working a job, and I will see them next week."

"Hand me a yearbook."

Her grip tightened on the books. "A couple more questions."

"Why? I just told you my life story."

"That was a headline, not a story, and I like to know who I'm working with."

"There's nothing more to tell. There's no big drama. I had parents; they divorced. I bounced around. We all moved on."

"No wonder you're so guarded. You locked down your emotions a long time ago, didn't you?"

"Kate, don't try to psychoanalyze me. You're nowhere near qualified."         

     



 

"I have eyes and instinct, and I can see a man who has closed himself  off. I thought it was just because of Sam-your guilt, your grief-but now  I think the walls went up long before her death."

"You should put up some walls," he advised.

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Because you're too vulnerable. It wouldn't be hard to hurt you."

She stared back at him with those questioning blue eyes, and he realized  just how true his statement had been. "Are you warning me about you,  Devin?"

"I'm warning you about life. You're open. You have a big heart. You like  people. You believe in hope and truth and justice, and you have no idea  how many times you're going to be disappointed in your life."

"I've been disappointed before," she said quietly. "But just because one  person fails you doesn't mean everyone will. I choose to believe in the  good in people. I'd rather live my life that way, than … "

"Like me?" he finished.

"Maybe you're too afraid of getting hurt, Devin. You block everything  out. The bad stuff stays on the other side of the wall, but so does the  good stuff. Do you ever let anyone in?"

"I've let people in."

"And … "

"Nothing."

She tilted her head and gave him a pointed look. "Really? That's all you're going to give me?"

"I've given you way too much already. We're on a case, Kate. Let's get back to work."

"You can be so frustrating."

"Right back at you. Now give me a yearbook."

"Fine. Which year do you want? Freshman or sophomore?"

"Whatever is on top."

"That would be Rick's freshman year." She slid the book across the table.

He flipped through the pages to the freshman class photos. Sure enough, a  younger version of Rick Baines stared back at him. His hair was long  and stringy, his eyes kind of dull, his expression rather bored. "Baines  definitely went to school at St. Bernadette's."

"I've got him, too," Kate said, turning around her yearbook to show him the class photo from a year later.

"He cut his hair between freshman and sophomore year," he commented.  "Otherwise, he looks pretty much the same." He moved slowly through the  list of names in the class. "I've got Alan Jenkins, blond, good-looking,  and much happier than Baines."

"I see him as well. He looks like a jock. Who else are we looking for?"

"Let's see if we can find any photos with Baines or Jenkins connected to  each other and/or other students. We need to create some links even if  we don't know whether they go anywhere."

"Okay."

They moved through their books quietly for the next few minutes. It  quickly became clear that while Baines didn't seek the camera, Jenkins  did. He was on the football team and the homecoming court and involved  in student government. He was photographed with numerous pretty girls at  many school events. But there was never a photo of him and Baines  together … until the spring of freshman year.

"Baines was on the baseball team with Jenkins," he said. As he stared at  the page full of shots from baseball season, he lost his focus for a  minute. He wasn't seeing those kids anymore, but himself.

Baseball had been his escape from divorce and death. When he'd been  swinging a bat or chasing down a ball at shortstop, he hadn't had time  to think about anything but winning. And those games, those sometimes  long, endless games, had been the only time where he'd felt normal,  happy …  until he looked up in the stands and realized no one was there  for him.

He shook his head, silently damning Kate for bringing up all the old  memories with her probing questions. The last thing he wanted to do  right now was think about his past.

"Baines must have quit after freshman year. He's not on the team in my book," Kate said.

"Probably wasn't good enough." Devin flipped to the next page. He  paused, almost surprised to see a group photo of Baines and Jenkins and  two girls. They were sitting at a lunch table. The girls were tagged as  Kristina Strem and Lindsay Blake.

"Do you have something?" Kate asked.

He turned the book so she could see the photo. "It's the only candid I've found."

Her eyes lit up. "This is great. We have two more names, two more links to Baines. We just have to find them."

He couldn't help but smile at the fire in her eyes. "Sounds like a plan."

"Why aren't you more excited? This could be a break."

"I'll celebrate when we get to the end of this whole thing."

"See, that's one of your problems, Devin. You don't let yourself enjoy  the good moments. Not everything has to be a homerun. Sometimes you get a  single, or the pitcher hits you in the arm and you walk your way on  base. But once you're on base, anything can happen."         

     



 

He grinned. "You're seriously giving me a baseball metaphor?"