Shame

his hair.
    “She was seeing another man, a doctor.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “I followed her to find out for sure. Can you believe that? I stalked my own wife.”
    “Did you confront her?”
    “No. That’s the most pathetic thing of all. What kind of a man allows his wife to go off with another man and does nothing about it? I saw them going into a hotel room together. And while I was watching them, someone must have been watching me. I’m sure I looked like the weak, simpering fool. Of course the detectives have me figured for a different role. They think I am a murderer, not a fool.”
    “And who do they think you killed?”
    “The doctor’s daughter. They think that was my way of getting revenge.”
    The way he offered the explanation, Lola thought, almost sounded like a confession. She watched as he held his hands parallel to each other, clenching and unclenching them. The movements made Lola uncomfortable. Was it just nervousness, she wondered, or a reenactment?
    His hands balled into fists. “He’s got me so tied up,” Caleb said, his voice small.
    “You start with the small knots then. You loosen them.”
    “I still don’t have a plan. I keep looking for one. I started listening to my father’s biography. I figure maybe somebody hates him enough to want to get revenge through me. But I don’t think that’s going to get me anywhere.”
    “Why not?”
    “There’s no shortage of people who hate my father. But killing innocent people seems a roundabout way of getting revenge. Why not just kill me?”
    “Maybe he wants to make you suffer all the more.”
    Caleb shrugged. Unconvinced, he said, “Maybe.”
    “That would explain why he left you those pictures.”
    “No,” said Caleb. “He left those to show me his disdain.”
    “Disdain?”
    “Last year our neighbors’ house was burgled. What upset them most wasn’t what the burglar took but what he left behind. He soiled their Berber carpeting. Taking their valuables wasn’t enough. The burglar had to add insult to injury. A deputy told the Howards that crime scenes were often
marked
in that way. I think that’s what those pictures were. The murderer took everything from me, but that wasn’t enough. He left me something much worse than a piece of shit, left me something I’ll never be able to get out of my mind.”
    Once again, Caleb’s hands started to clench and unclench.
    “I’m a private person. Knowing I was watched makes me feel powerless and dirty.”
    Caleb’s uneasiness was contagious. Lola turned her head to the kitchen window, half expecting someone to be looking in.
    “Don’t worry,” Caleb said. “I made sure we weren’t followed. No one’s ever going to catch me unawares again.” He lifted the mirror and looked at himself critically. His hair was lighter than before, at the sandy-blond stage.
    “Just a few more applications,” said Lola, “and we’ll get it so that you won’t even know yourself.”
    The notion didn’t displease Caleb. “I don’t think I’ve thanked you for all you’ve done.”
    “Now you have.”
    “You in the habit of rescuing strays?”
    “Sometimes. But I’m more of a sucker for the four-legged sort. The two-legged have taught me to be wary. But I had afeeling something was going to happen, and I was ready to be receptive to it.”
    “You took me in on a feeling?”
    “Not exactly. Don’t be angry when I tell you that your father has been in my thoughts on and off for the last few weeks. I don’t know why. I hadn’t thought about him in years. But his image kept coming to me. That’s why I wasn’t really surprised when I saw you. It was almost as if I expected you, or at least someone like you.”
    “Or like him.”
    “Yes.”
    “You’re a psychic?”
    “I wouldn’t call myself that. But at times I’ve had glimpses of the future. It’s not as if I’ve known everything that was going to happen, but I have been clued into some events that would. Among certain tribes Two-Spirits were known for their ability to foretell things.”
    “Feminine intuition?”
    “It goes beyond that. I wanted to leave San Diego, but I stayed, trusting to my feelings that something significant was about to happen.”
    “Why’d you want to leave town?”
    “What else? Love gone wrong.”
    With his mirror, Caleb caught her vying expressions: a shaking head, a wistful smile, and a few sighs.
    “A sailor boy,” she explained. “He swore to me his love undying. We met in New