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that the police were bothering him, that they had asked him to take a
polygraph test. He didn't tell her that he had hired an attorney.
Jerilee couldn't hold back her feelings. She told Gabby flat out that
she believed he was involved in Morris's murder. "He said he couldn't
have done something like that," she recalled.
"He insisted that he just couldn't have done it. I didn't believe him."
She told him it didn't matter anyway. She would never come back to him,
and he had to accept that. As always, he countered with what he wanted
her to believe. He told her that he could prove to her that he had
absolutely nothing to do with the murder. Before he could begin to
expand on the weird threats he was receiving, she cut him off. She told
him again that made no difference. She wasn't coming back to him. He
kept repeating that he could prove what happened to Morris might be
connected to him, but that it had nothing to do with his feelings for
her. He loved her. He suspected that there was someone who had been
after both him and Morris, and he had reason to fear for his own life.
Something strange was going on. Jerilee hung up. That was the last time
she spoke to Gabby before Christmas. He sent messages through her
sister, or through his relatives, but she would never speak to him
again. After Christmas, everything in Jerilee's world would change once
more. It was as if she had entered a "House of Horrors" at the county
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
fair only it was all real. With every step she took, something even more
ghastly popped up. Bright lights lit up houses and lawns all over town,
and deep snow fell. It got colder and the icy wind blew across the hills
and plains of Yakima County, howling like the hounds of hell. There was
someone following Gabby Moore, someone just beyond his awareness. It
wasn't anyone for Gabby to fear at least not physically. But Vern
Henderson was curious about Gabby Moore. He thought he had known the
man, now he was not so sure. Although Vern wasn't officially working
Homicide, and he was not assigned to Morris's case, he had promised
Morris's mother he would find her son's killer. In his own mind, he had
promised Morris too.
From time to time, Vern spotted Gabby'smg or his Jeep weaving through
town. Sometimes, Vern followed him. On two occasions, Vern followed
Gabby as he drove up to the Tahoma Cemetery where Morris was buried.
While Vern watched undetected, Gabby stood looking down at Morris's
grave, his face a blank mask. What was he thinking? Vern wondered why he
had come here to stand silent in the cold. "He looked as though he felt
bad," Vern remembered. "And I wondered if he had really loved Morris,
his old friend, but maybe he'd wanted the woman more." Inside the
apartment Gabby Moore had rented with his sixteen-year-old son, there
were no Christmas decorations. The two had been batching it for two
months in an apartment that was nothing like the comfortable homes they
were both used to. This was not a home, it was a stopping-off place for
two males on their way to someplace else. They both had sports practice
after school and games and wrestling matches. But Derek had a
girlfriend, and his father had no one. When he was alone, the sound of
Gabby's stereo echoed through the empty rooms.
He played the same record over and over and over again. "Lay your head
upon my pillow, put your warm and tender body close to mine...." It was
one of the saddest and most popular of the country-western hits that
year, Ray Price singing of lost love. The Iyrics were far more accepting
that the love affair was over, however, than Gabby was. "I'll get along,
you'll find another," Ray Price sang, "and I'll be here in case you ever
need me. Let's just be glad we had some time to spend together. We don't
have to watch the bridges that we're burning. .." Gabby had played "For
the Good Times" so often that the record sometimes skipped where the
needle had worn deep grooves. He was living almost entirely in the past,
but he was planning for the future he was determined to have with
Jerilee. Although Jerilee could no longer be counted among that group,
there were still many, many people who loved Gabby Moore. His three
children tried to help him deal with his lost love. His ex-in-laws made
him welcome, and Dr. A. J. Myers made an effort to keep track of Gabby's
health. Looking at Gabby's bloated body and flushed face, Myers worried.
He was clearly drinking too much and not eating right, and he didn't
appear to have been taking his medication. He looked like a heart attack
looking for a place to happen. Perhaps more than anyone, Gabby's
athletes past and present kept close tabs on him, making sure he wasn't
alone for too long, trying to stop by and visit with him. He was "the
man" to his boys. He was the coach that had lifted many of them from
mediocrity and made them champions. When Gabby was too distraught or too
ill or even too intoxicated to show up for wrestling practice and
wrestling matches, some of the star wrestlers who had graduated from
Davis made sure that they were there to see that things ran smoothly. It
was getting pretty bad. They had seen Gabby step out of the gym and go
to his car and take a swig out of a bottle he kept there. They had often
smelled alcohol on his breath inside Davis High School at practice.
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