Fall Guy

I knew what I was looking for would be on the right-hand side, but I couldn't remember exactly where it was. And then I found it, about two thirds of the way down the page. It was with the material about police suicide. It said, „No shot fired goes unheard. There are consequences for every act.“
    That was in pen. And on the following line, in pencil, perhaps as an afterthought, he'd written, „Could God love someone like Parker? And, more to the point, what about someone like me?“

CHAPTER 18
    I had thought I'd wait until Saturday before asking Maggie anything more, before I mentioned the letter she'd written that Tim hadn't lived to see, before I tried to find out what was going on with this unlucky family. But reading Tim's notebook made me change my mind. When I woke up on Friday morning, half the day was gone. But Maggie might still be home. I pulled out her letter and read it again. Then I picked up the phone and made the call.
    „It's Rachel,“ I said when she picked up.
    „Is there something wrong?“
    I didn't know if it was her mind-set making her ask, her recent experience, or the tone of my voice. Whatever it was, hearing the fear in her voice, I couldn't go on. It was true that there was no more time for beating about the bush. I had to understand more of what was going on before seeing Parker again. That would be the next day, if not sooner. But I couldn't push Maggie, not over the phone, not after all she'd been through. I was going to have to find out what I needed to know on my own.
    „Oh, nothing at all wrong,“ I told her. „I was just confirming tomorrow, to make sure you're coming.“
    „I am, yes.“
    „And I wanted to tell you that Tim's neighbors are having a memorial in the afternoon, out in the garden. They asked me to be sure to invite you and Dennis.“ The truth was, I'd forgotten to call either of them. „I was going to call him next.“
    „A memorial, how lovely of them.“
    „I'll call Dennis,“ I said, hoping she'd tell me she'd do it. But she didn't.
    I looked up the number of his Lexus dealership and dialed, waiting for a secretary to pick up, but it was the same voice that I had heard on my answering machine, the call I'd never returned because Maggie had said she'd do that herself. I was feeling the weight of speaking to another grieving relative. I was thankful he was at work so that I could make it short.
    „It's Rachel Alexander, Dennis.“
    „Oh, yes.“
    „The reason I'm calling is that Tim's neighbors are having a memorial for him tomorrow at four, in the garden behind his apartment. They asked me to be sure to ask you to come.“
    „Tomorrow at four?“ he asked, sounding distracted, perhaps working on the computer as we spoke.
    „Yes, just a small group. I imagine people will share some memories of Tim. And while you're there, if there's anything from his apartment you'd like to have...“
    There was an awkward silence.
    „I hope you can make it,“ I said.
    „Of course, of course,“ he said. „At four?“
    „Yes, four.“
    „Um, can you give me the address? I don't know that I have his latest.“
    I wasn't sure exactly how long Tim had been in the apartment, but from his low rent I knew it was at least fifteen years, probably longer. I gave his brother the address and instructions on how to get there. I told him I was looking forward to meeting him. Then I hung up, thinking again about why Timothy William O'Fallon had thought a stranger would be better able to handle his estate than a blood relative, starting to understand his decision.
    I felt knots in my shoulders and when I looked down at my own lap, both my hands were resting against my thighs, balled into fists. I was in no shape to deal with Tim's brother and sister, with reading the rest of O'Fallon's notes, with much of anything. I decided that Jin Mei had hit the nail on the head, but instead of meditating in a garden, I'd do it where I did it best, in the pool at the McBurney Y. I fed Dashiell and took him out for a long walk. Then I grabbed my swimming gear and one other thing and headed out.
    Floating on my back in all that blue, I couldn't have thought about the O'Fallons had I wanted to. There was something about being in the water that emptied my mind and let it float as free as my body did. I had done twenty-five minutes of lap swimming, concentrating only on my breathing and feeling my body moving in the water. I had stretched my legs at the shallow end. And now, floating, my