Gaits of Heaven

for a direct invitation before touching someone. Kimi would either have hurled herself at Caprice’s feet or would have set herself the task of nuzzling and scouring the young woman’s hands as if they were ailing newborn puppies in need of revivification. And Sammy? All exuberance, he’d have run up to her, leaned against her, placed a great white snowshoe paw on her arm or her lap, and treated her to a sparkly-eyed smile that radiated joy itself, including the sweet expectation of having the joy reciprocated in full. Although I liked to believe that I was half malamute myself, I lacked my dogs’ unquestioning self-confidence. If Caprice had spurned Rowdy’s offer of contact, he’d happily have turned to me. If she’d brushed Kimi off, the judgment written on Kimi’s masked face would have been that Caprice alone was at fault for foolishly declining solace, and too bad for her! The whole point would’ve been lost on Sammy, who’d merrily have continued to assume that Caprice was just as thrilled with him as he always was with himself, and why not? He was handsome, charming, and happy; life in his vicinity was a delightful adventure; therefore, everyone else was as euphoric as he was. Being only half malamute, I felt inadequate and knew too well that rejection would leave me filled with self-blame. On the other hand—the big snowshoeshaped one—I knew I had to try. Consequently, I took a seat next to Caprice on the teak bench and said, “Yes, I’m Leah’s cousin, and I’m so sorry about Eumie.”
    “She was careless about her meds, but the worst that ever happened was that she was sleepy the next day. Lethargic. I don’t care what Ted says! She was not self-destructive. Someone did this to her! She was not depressed. She was interested in things. Especially in people! Anyone who’s depressed enough to commit suicide loses interest in everything, and my mother had to know everything about everyone. She wasn’t just snoopy, which she was. She also had this passionate curiosity about people.” Caprice fumbled in her pocket. I handed her a tissue, and she blew her nose. “People told her things. They confided in her. Her patients did, of course, and Ted told her everything about his patients, too. And she found things out, including things people didn’t want her to know. And people resented her. Wyeth did. And Johanna. That’s Ted’s ex-wife, Wyeth’s mother. Johanna blames Eumie for wrecking her marriage, and Wyeth takes his mother’s side even though he doesn’t exactly get along with her. Or anyone else, for that matter.”
    I said what I guessed Rita would say: “Wyeth seems very angry.”
    “Wyeth is a little bastard,” Caprice said. “He’s a spoiled brat. And that’s not my mother’s fault. It’s Ted’s. And Johanna’s. I don’t know which of them is worse. Oh, God! What am I going to do? Where am I going to go? I can’t stay here. Not with Ted and Wyeth. My therapist is here. She’s in Cambridge. I have to see her, especially now—I can’t go to New York with my father. I have nowhere to go!” She burst into deep sobbing.
    I put an arm around her. “Home with me,” I said. “If you want a place to stay for a while, you’re welcome at my house. Leah’s with us for the summer. We’d be glad to have you.” Caprice was crying too hard to speak, but she nodded and gave me a big hug and then kept clinging to me. As I held her, I tried to think of ways to protect her. No matter what the need of the police for any information she could provide, I simply had to get her away from this lunatic household and especially from Wyeth, who, for all I knew, would repeat his insults to her and crow over her mother’s death.
    Somewhat to my astonishment, when I glanced toward the house, the row of glass doors to the family room revealed the hulking figure of my neighbor and buddy, Lieutenant Kevin Dennehy, who was the key element in my emerging plan to protect Caprice and thus seemed almost to have been conjured up by my imagination.
    “Caprice,” I said, “there’s a cop in the family room who’s looking out here. He’s a friend of mine. My next-door neighbor. His name is Kevin Dennehy. I’m going to have a word with him, and we’ll see if we can get you out of here. I’ll be right up there on the deck or in the family room. Okay?” Hesitantly, I added, “Would you like Dolfo to come over and sit with you?”
    The ridiculous-looking dog was curled up under a recently