Three-2
705 Words
WALKING BACK TO THE parish, I called Anna.
When she answered, I said, “I just spoke to Nate Rodriguez.”
“Oh, he got in touch with you.”
“Yes. Why didn’t you tell me about him? Why didn’t you tell me he interviewed you?”
“Because if I had, you probably wouldn’t have spoken to him.”
“I would have appreciated a heads up.”
“I’m sure you would have.”
“So why didn’t you give me one?”
“Because you wouldn’t have talked to him.”
I wasn’t sure what Anna was trying to do with this circular argument. I decided to go forward.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. I heard him out, but I’m not going to talk to him.”
Anna didn’t say anything.
“I don’t want to talk about Joan’s murder. Not with him. Not with anyone. It's not like it would do any good.”
“What do you mean?”
“Anna, it’s not going to bring her back. It’s not going to help find her killer—her killer is never going to be found. It was just a senseless, random crime. The guy tried to rape her, I got there before it got too far, there was a struggle, the gun went off, Joan was shot, then she died. That’s it.”
“There’s no need to shout, Tom.”
I stopped. I had forgotten where I was. I didn’t know I had been yelling into the phone. I looked around, but no one seemed to have taken notice. Surprising, considering you didn’t see a priest yelling into a cell phone every day.
“I never knew there was a struggle,” Anna said.
“Huh?”
“You said there was a struggle. I never knew that.”
“Yea, yea,” I said. “There was a struggle. I thought I told you that.”
“You have never told me anything about that night.”
“Oh, I’m sure I have.”
“No, not a word. The police told me Joan was killed. They didn’t say anything about a struggle. And I always thought you two were together when she was attacked.”
I hesitated before answering, and when I did, I didn’t answer her question. “Everything happened so fast, I was in shock—listen, I don’t really want to talk about this right now.”
“Okay, okay,” Anna said. I heard resignation in her voice. “By the way,” she said, “Bethany Grabble called me today. She heard you were back.”
“Nate said he interviewed her about Joan.”
“Really? I didn’t know that. Anyway, she still has Joan’s things.”
“What things?”
“You know, her art stuff. Joan had a studio there, remember?”
I hadn’t remembered. “Oh yeah. I guess I should get it. Why didn't she give it to you in all these years?”
“She tried. I told her you’d be back.”
“For ten years?”
“I can be very persuasive. Besides, she loved Joan.”
“I’ll give her a call. Thanks.”
“How about coming to dinner on Wednesday.”
I hesitated.
“I thought I’d invite Chloe and John,” Anna prompted.
“I don’t think so, Anna,” I said. “Not right now. I’m still trying to get settled in. Can I have a raincheck?”
“Of course,” Anna said with evident disappointment. “Anytime. Maybe Sunday afternoon. Can’t imagine you feel like cooking after two masses.”
“By the way, did you know Nate Rodriguez tried to interview Chloe and John?”
“Of course, I put Nate in touch with them.”
“Why didn’t they do it?”
I heard Anna sigh. “I don’t know. Joan told me before she was killed that things were strained between them. She never told me why. Chloe won’t talk much about her. As for why John wouldn’t talk, you’d have to ask him”
She paused. “Please think about it, Tom. Doing the interview.”
“Anna, why are you doing this?”
Slowly, she replied, “Because Joan deserves not to be forgotten.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, if she meant it as a criticism or just a general observation, that other people should remember she had been murdered and no one brought to justice. I didn’t believe she thought I had forgotten Joan. I hadn’t forgotten about her. How could I? I had just decided to forget about her murder. I didn’t see why that had to be remembered, especially since remembering it was not going to bring her back or bring her killer to justice. Rodriguez and Anna could cling to the belief that someone would have their memory jogged, that someone out there might remember the One Clue that would lead to her killer. I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t do that.
All I wanted was peace.
- Writer
