Chapter 19

Cecelia sprang her bombshell after I'd negotiated the Big I, which they rebuilt a few years back and strikes me as being much less safe now if you're merging, even if it's bigger and prettier. "I've been doing some research," she said, "regarding the qualifications for your occupation."

I had nothing to say to that, and so that's what I said.

"If I were to work for you for three years in actual investigations, I could apply for a private investigator's license."

"I'll take your word for it," I said. "It's been 16 years since I got my New Mexico license and I can't remember exactly what the requirements were back then."

"I retrieved the information from a PDF file online – the actual, printable application for a license."

"Okay, then that's what it would take. But why were you checking?"

It's seldom that Cecelia isn't ready with an answer the moment you ask the question, but she didn't reply immediately that time. Finally she said, "When I came to work for you as a part-time secretary, I had in mind nothing more than helping you in a way that you required, and earning a bit of money which I could then put into whatever charitable endeavor I thought most needed that small amount. And until I found myself, willy-nilly, involved in this investigation I wanted nothing more. But actually seeing you at work, in the field as well as in the office, has intrigued me. I am suffering from piqued curiosity, and I am contemplating how I might satisfy it."

"You manage to use a lot of words even when you're thinking as you go," I said, grinning. "Do you think you might want to get your license?"

"I do not know, Darvin. I do know that the idea calls for me to ponder it, for the first time in my life. Whether I shall actually pursue a license I honestly have no idea at this time."

"Well," I said, "I don't know what to tell you. I didn't want you taking on the filing and such 'cause I didn't want you getting contaminated by all the sludge I wade through. But now I've let you into this investigation, right in the sludge even if you're not actually investigating, and that makes it hard for me to tell you straight out not to do it."

"I hope that my curiosity is not putting you in a difficult position. If such is the case, I will of course squelch my curiosity; I would rather abandon the project than cause you problems."

I took in a breath. "I've always been glad that you didn't want to know what I do, except in broad outlines or certain isolated specifics. You've sometimes given me good ideas and I've appreciated that, but I've been happy that you wanted to do everything but get involved. But now you are involved – and I'm happy about that, 'cause you're proving to be a bigger help than I ever imagined. I gotta think about this, C."

"That's acceptable – more than acceptable, in fact. I will submit to whatever your decision may be."

"You know," I said, not entirely off the subject, "you're relaxing more and more these days."

"Relaxing?"

"Yeah. It's not just what you wear, though I remember the days when you wouldn't even go out in the back yard in something which showed your arms above the elbow, and now you've actually gone to church in a sleeveless dress, and there was the day in Old Town when your sleeves were sheer. You did that makeup the other day, and if someone had asked me if you'd ever do such a thing I'd have just laughed. Something about you, I don't know what, is a lot less rigid than it used to be. You're still you and always will be, but you've come out of your shell so much these last three or four years that I'm beginning to understand something of what you must have been like when you were a little girl."

"I am returning to that little girl, Darvin." I heard her take a breath, but kept my eyes on the traffic. "I am learning to be more myself than ever, beloved. I am shedding plates of armor – armor that I carefully constructed over decades." Her voice was hesitant, as though she once again her thoughts were coming forth at the moment she had them. "You have taught me, Darvin, what it is to have no barriers. You are the most transparent man I have ever known. I adore Daddy, and he is my hero second only to you, but his life forced him to create barriers – armor against those who called him 'boy, ' those who sneered at him because of the color of his skin, those who would have been happy to see him working on a plantation under the whip, as his grandfather did.

"You're not like that. What struck me as crudity on the day we met is, I have come to realize, a refusal to pretend you're anything other than what you actually are – though I must add that what you actually are is, by my standards, somewhat crude." I didn't look at her, but I know her tones – she would have been smiling had I looked. She wasn't trying to be mean. "And for all these years your example of openness and sincerity has worked on me – until I am finally learning, however fearfully, to emerge from behind my own walls."

"And part of that is taking over my office – you've rearranged the furniture in front, for pete's sake! – and thinking about maybe learning to be a PI."

"That is part of it. It's a part which may not go any further. I may find that I am better off trying on different clothing than I am used to, or smiling more at people outside my family – things that are beginning to come naturally to me. But for now, that idea is prominent in my mind."

I shrugged – it's easy to do that driving when you steer one-handed. "Works for me," I said. "But we're coming up on the exit, so I need you to concentrate on what we're doing."

"I shall do that, my husband. I shall follow your lead."

I drove us around the area of the address Dog had given me. I didn't want to park right there, but I didn't want to leave the Blazer too far away either. I didn't anticipate trouble, but I wanted an escape available if it came – without at the same time driving right into an ambush if there were one. You can't run away as fast as you can drive, but you sure can't judge and react and stop as quick in a vehicle as you can on foot.