Shame

wanted to delve any further into her old Gray Parker files. Sifting through one box had roiled her insides enough. The other five unopened boxes could wait.Her avoidance wasn’t helping, though. Gray Parker’s ghost kept materializing in her mind.
    “You want children?”
    Gray was leaning against the bars, thumbs in his orange prison jumpsuit. Somehow, even in handcuffs and wearing orange, he still managed to look sexy.
    “Yes.”
    “The way you’re going, you won’t have any.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Because being on the go has already become a way of life for you, and it’ll only get worse. You’re not the kind to marry out of convenience or have a baby by accident. And the appeal of a white picket fence and all things domestic won’t seem exciting enough for you until it’s too late.”
    “Is that what happened to you?”
    He didn’t answer directly; he rarely did. “I arrived in the town of Eden with a crick in my neck from looking back at San Antonio and wondering if a few of my minor peccadilloes were following me.”
    “Were they?”
    “Nope. You know my record. For the longest time it was clean as the driven snow.”
    “What did you do in San Antonio?”
    “Practiced a few of my future dance steps. Stopped short, though.”
    “So you ended up in Eden.”
    “It seemed as good a place as any to get lost for a spell.”
    “And that’s where you met and married Clara Wallace.”
    “‘I’m in the family way.’ That’s what she told me. Couldn’t even say she was pregnant. Ever read Nietzsche? You should. Clara was what he’d call a pale criminal. She could do the deed but couldn’t face up to the consequences.”
    “Yet you married her.”
    “She couldn’t stand the shame of her baby not having his daddy’s name. I tried to tell her that neither she nor the baby would want my name. I said she’d regret it more than anything, but she insisted, so I went through with the charade.”
    “You never divorced her.”
    “That’s right.”
    “And she still loves you.”
    “More’s the pity.”
    “Over the years there were times when you visited her.”
    “Usually when John Law was on my tail.”
    “Usually, but not always.”
    He shrugged. “Short stops on my merry-go-round. Round and round, you know, or you will know, less’n you get off it now. There’s no law that says you have to do that next book.”
    “What next book?”
    “The one your publisher is already waving in front of your nose. I’m all but dead, they’re telling you, even if they’re not saying it that way. Time to commit to your next book, they’re saying. Strike while the old iron’s hot.”
    She hadn’t said a word of this to him and felt defensive. “Nothing’s been formalized....”
    “And after that there will be the next book, and the next book. Face it, lady, you’re going to be like me.”
    “How so?”
    “You’re going to choose death over life.”
    The memory was so vivid that at first she didn’t take notice of the new caller. He was speaking in a hoarse whisper, making it difficult for her to hear, but when he identified himself she suddenly became alert.
    “...people are nearby, so it’s hard to talk. This is Caleb. We need to meet. I’ve got information that can prove I’m innocent, but I need your help.”
    He had made the call from an outdoor pay phone. Elizabeth could hear the sounds of passing traffic, both four-wheeled andtwo-legged. Caleb stopped whispering at the loud approach of what sounded like some adolescent males; either he didn’t want to compete with them or he was afraid of being overheard. After they passed he continued, his whisper that much more staccato and desperate.
    “We have to meet. According to the paper, the
Constellation
is coming into port today at one o’clock. It’ll be docking at the NAS North Island in Coronado.”
    He stopped talking, interrupted by the long blast of a car horn.
    “Get there early if you can. Park at the lot nearest the ship on Colorado Street and Quay. If I don’t see you there, let’s meet at the front gate at the stern of the ship. If something prevents my showing up, like too many police or shore patrol, I’ll make other arrangements for us to meet later.”
    Caleb stopped talking, but she could still hear the background noise and his heavy breathing. He was apparently loath to hang up. “I know everything looks bad,” he whispered, “but don’t give up on me. You’re my only hope.”
    It felt like