The Replacement Child - By Christine Barber Page 0,52
nearby, wondering how she could tell him what she knew about Patsy’s death without breaking any rules. Ethically, she couldn’t say a word about it. Patsy Burke had been her patient and the same patient-confidentiality laws that governed doctors also governed lowly medics like herself. She also was bound by those pesky journalism-ethics rules, although those were slightly bendable.
But telling Tommy would serve a dual purpose. The Capital Tribune would scoop the Santa Fe Times on Mrs. Burke’s cause of death. (Take that, Del.) And if the newspaper put enough pressure on Major Garcia, he would have to look into whether Patsy Burke was Scanner Lady and if her phone call to Lucy had had something to do with her death.
The power of the press at its finest.
Lucy would have to stay vague when telling Tommy. Maybe something like, The investigation isn’t considering everything. She wouldn’t even be mentioning Patsy Burke and therefore, technically, not breaking any rules. Maybe say, Did you ask Garcia if she was strangled?
Hanging up, Tommy said, “What’s up, boss?”
She started, then stopped. She knew that what she was doing was exactly what Garcia expected her to do: compromise the investigation by leaking what she knew to the newspaper. She would be proving him right: she was untrustworthy. If the newspaper printed Patsy Burke’s cause of death, he would know that she had given it to them. And then Garcia would never seriously investigate whether Patsy was Scanner Lady.
Lucy said, “Forget it,” and walked away.
Gil sat on Joy’s bed reading Little House in the Big Woods. They had started the book, at Joy’s request, a week ago. The first night, eight-year-old Therese had developed a new habit—asking questions every other sentence. The situation so exasperated eleven-year-old Joy that she held her hands over her ears. Gil knew that Therese was doing it only to annoy her sister.
In the end, they had come to a compromise.
Therese was allowed to ask three questions per reading session. But she usually asked only one question, wanting to save up the two others in case something she genuinely didn’t understand came up.
Gil read six pages and stopped when he noticed that Therese was drifting. Joy was still wide awake. He marked the page and closed the book. He went over to Therese’s bed and turned off her reading light. Putting his hand on her head, he repeated in Spanish the same blessing his father had said over him every night—”May the angels watch over you as you sleep and may God smile on you when you awake.” He kissed her forehead as she smiled a little and turned on her side. Joy looked disinterestedly at the ceiling. He put his hand on her head and repeated the blessing. She kept staring straight up. He expected her to pull away as he kissed her forehead, but instead she said, “Please tell Mother I need to speak to her.”
He found Susan sweeping the kitchen floor.
“I was hoping we had a few years before Joy started the teen-angst thing,” he said.
Susan laughed. “She’s just had a bad week.”
“Our daughter would like a word with her mother.”
Susan put the broom against the wall, then he heard the door close to the girls’ room. Gil picked up the statue of St. Joseph, still sitting on the kitchen counter, and pulled a clear plastic bag over it. He took it out to the garage, got a shovel, and headed to the backyard. He picked a spot away from the trees so that he wouldn’t hit any roots and started digging. The ground should have been frozen at this time of year, but only the top layer was hard. The lights from the house gave a glow to the backyard, enough for him to see what he was doing in the dark. He stopped for a second and looked back at the house. He needed to clean out the gutters and trim the elm tree. He had been thinking about planting an apple or apricot tree in the spring, like they had had at his house when he was a kid. But they might be living in Eldorado in the spring.
Gil put St. Joseph upside down in the ground, facing east for good luck, then filled the hole back in. He put the shovel away and went inside. Susan was still in the girls’ room.
He got a beer out of the fridge and sat on the couch to watch ESPN. It was forty-five minutes before Susan came back.