Bobby Ray Dean. Father: unknown. Mother: Sheila Dean.
Bobby Ray read quickly.
. . . arrested four times for prostitution . . . released on her own recognizance . . . overdosed on heroin in Starlight Motel, listed as a Jane Doe until identified by fingerprints.
Bobby Ray’s heart stopped. He reread the last part, hoping he had gotten it wrong. His stomach dropped, and cold seeped through him. Mama’s dead. How could that be? Wouldn’t he have felt something? Known somehow, someway?
Whitcomb returned, took the file from the desk, and tucked it away in the tall metal filing cabinet. “So now you know, Bobby Ray.”
Mama still spoke to him in his dreams sometimes. I’m doing the best I can, baby. You know I’m gonna come back. Don’t I always?
BACK ON THE MOUNTAIN ROAD, they passed high meadows, icy lakes, and towering pines. Grace was silent so long, Roman glanced over to see if she was asleep. She was wide-awake, faintly pensive. “What’s on your mind?”
“I’d like Samuel to see this. You can’t look at all this beauty and not believe. It’s harder in a city. There’s too much going on, too many distractions.”
“And temptations?” Roman gave her a teasing glance. “Not to mention, all those angry people on the freeways. Always in a hurry to get somewhere.” Like him, they probably didn’t know where they really wanted to go or how to get there.
“Can we stop?” She looked apologetic. “Just for a few minutes.”
Roman pulled off the road at the next wide spot. Grace thanked him and got out of the car. He came around the car and leaned against it, watching her. The air smelled heavily of pine. Grace picked her way among some boulders and climbed up onto a granite ledge overlooking a narrow, plunging valley. A breeze came up, and she spread her arms as though she might take a few steps and ride the wind. Roman lifted his phone. She took another step forward, and his heart lurched.
“Grace, stop!” Pocketing his phone, he went after her. He couldn’t see her for a few seconds and almost panicked. “Grace!”
“I’m right here.” There was another ledge just below the one she’d been on. “I could walk another ten feet and still be safe.” She took a few more steps.
He caught up to her, and gripped her arm. “Close enough.” When she looked at him in surprise, he let go of her.
“You were the one talking about climbing Half Dome.”
“Enough wandering around. Let’s go.”
Roman went ahead of her and lifted her down from the stone table. She gave a soft, tense laugh. “You’re as sure-footed as a mountain goat.”
“Comes from practicing parkour.” She picked up a pinecone on the way to the car. “You’re keeping that?”
“It’s the perfect souvenir, don’t you think?” She held it to her nose and inhaled. “A gift from the Lord that smells like the forest.”
He was getting used to the natural way Grace talked about God. He opened the car door for her. She slid in and tucked the pinecone into the tote bag, along with the rocks she’d collected along the way.
“Your bag must weigh a ton by now.”
“The Israelites picked up great stones when they crossed the Jordan River. When they reached the Promised Land, they made a memorial so they’d never forget what God had done.”
He’d read the Exodus story the night before, but he didn’t want to get into another God conversation. Maybe there was a God, but Roman doubted He cared. He pulled onto the road again. “We’re only two hours away from Golden.”
“Think you’ll accept the job?”
“Doubtful.” Before she asked why they were on this trip if he’d already made up his mind, he told her to call Jasper. “See if he can meet us at Masterson Ranch.” He could have made the call himself with one press of his thumb on the steering wheel, but he wanted to change the subject.
Phone to her ear, she looked at him. “Are we staying there tonight?”
“No. We’re just stopping in to say hello.” The Mastersons probably had a full house. Roman wondered what kind of reception he’d get after so many years of avoiding this visit. He’d only seen Jasper because the man insisted on showing up periodically, invited or not. He hadn’t seen Chet and Susan since he aged out of the program at eighteen. They sent a Christmas card every December with a handwritten note inviting him to visit anytime. The door is always open. Roman figured it was merely a polite gesture. Why would they want to see him again?