Something shady, p.10
Something Shady, page 10
part #2 of Stoner McTavish Mystery Series
“Sometimes,” Gwen said, “I want to park it on a side street and let the hoods strip it. Come on.”
“I’ll go first.“
“Why?”
“Because I’m a chauvinist, for God’s sake. Gwen, will you let me have my way once on this trip?”
Gwen gestured her forward. “Be my guest, pig.”
Fog spilled over the cliff edge and crept through the forest. By the time they had gone five yards, Stoner’s boots were soaked with droplets from damp under- brush. Water fell from pine needles overhead and trickled down her neck. She heard a scuffling sound and froze, heart pounding.
An overwintering robin scrounged on the forest floor.
“Press on, George,” Gwen whispered.
“Gwen, you have to take this seriously.”
“We’re not even there yet. What do you think this is, Vietnam?”
Stoner rolled her eyes in resigned dismay and pressed on.
The woods gave way to seacoast. At the bottom of the precipice, wet sand glistened. The tide was out. A break in the cliffs formed a steep, but not impassable, slope to the water. Gravel worked its way into Stoner’s boots as she stumbled down the incline.
The fence ended in six inches of water. She swung around it and shuddered as icy water poured over the tops of her shoes and soaked her pants legs, driving the sand and gravel deeper into her boots. Every step felt thoroughly disgusting. She picked her way upward, dislodging pebbles that rattled down the cliff like machine-gun fire. Pulling herself onto the grass at the edge of the woods, she paused to catch her breath.
The house gleamed eerily through the trees.
Gwen tugged at her sleeve and nodded toward the woods. Looking over, she saw an old foundation hole. At the bottom, partially hidden by dead leaves, was a blue Ford with Massachusetts plates.
“Well,” Stoner whispered, “whoever did that didn’t plan on Claire needing it again.”
“It looks like what Betty Jean did to her Chevy convertible out at the limestone quarry, except we didn’t do it on purpose.”
“‘We’ didn’t?”
“I was along for the ride.”
She had to laugh. “Gwen, sometimes I think your whole life is a series of near misses.”
“I’m working on it,” Gwen said.
Stoner looked around. Between the house and where they stood was a waist- high wall of black granite, fallen down in places but with an intact section high enough to hide behind. Crouching, she ran for it.
“We’re in luck,” Gwen said as she knelt beside her. “We can see everything.”
The lights were on in the conservatory. Patients lounged in wicker chairs, some reading, some staring, nobody socializing. There was no one there who resembled Claire Rasmussen.
“I don’t see her,” she said in a low voice. “Do you?”
Gwen shook her head. “Maybe if we wait awhile…”
There didn’t seem to be anything else to do.
Daylight was fading fast, the fog building up, the cold settling in - and, Stoner thought with apprehension, the tide rising up the end of the chain-link fence, their one escape route. How deep was it now? Knee high? Waist high? Well, we can always swim if we have to. I can swim. Can Gwen swim? Great, I’m in love with this woman and I don’t even know if she can swim.
The grit and dampness in her boots were driving her crazy. She wondered if anything alive had washed in there along with the seawater. Or slipped in from the underbrush. There were perfectly horrible things that clung to odd bits of twig and leaf in forests. Small, slow-moving, slimy things. Things that scurried from the beam of your flashlight. Creeping, slithering, darting things. Things that left silver trails. Things that bit and burrowed...
She shook her head and glanced over at Gwen. Mist clung to her hair and eyelashes. Her face was smooth, her lips soft. She wanted to take her in her arms and...
Pay attention. This is a potentially life-threatening situation.
If only she weren’t so beautiful.
If only she weren’t so nice.
If only she weren’t so straight.
“Don’t sit on the ground,” Gwen whispered. “It’s damp.”
She pulled herself to her knees. “I can’t get much wetter. We should have brought the Manhattans.”
“Only you,” Gwen said, “would want to turn this into a picnic.”
“I’m going to freeze to death.”
Gwen took Stoner’s hands and rubbed them. “You’re getting too old for this kind of thing.”
Gwen’s hands were warm and soft. Stoner looked at them, looked at her eyes. “Gwen, I...”
“Shhh.”
A door slammed. Angry voices. Gravel crackled.
Through the twilight she made out the figure of a woman, blonde, in bare feet and a shapeless white robe, running...
...directly toward them.
Behind her came two large men in attendants’ uniforms.
Oh, Christ!
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gwen stand and start to climb over the wall.
“Idiot!” Stoner hissed. “Get back here.”
“Hi!” Gwen said loudly. “Can I help you?”
The woman stopped in her tracks.
Stoner pounded the ground with her fist. Idiot, idiot, idiot. She tried to get to her feet. Her knees gave way beneath her.
“Claire,” Gwen said in a low voice, “I’m a friend of your…”
The men had reached her. “Who the hell are you?”
“I was here this morning,” Gwen said. “I think I lost my wallet when I walked around the grounds.”
Claire stood frozen between the men and Gwen.
“This ain’t a public park, lady. It’s private property.”
“Oh, dear,” Gwen said. “I assumed it would be all right. Nobody told me...”
“I’m telling you.”
Claire made a break to her left. The man grabbed her and pinned her arms to her sides.
“She seems so distressed,” Gwen said. “Perhaps I could help.”
“We don’t need your help.“ He shoved Claire at the other man. “Take her back to the house. I’ll get rid of this one.”
Get rid of? Get rid of? What does he mean, get rid of?
“If your wallet shows up,” the man said to Gwen, “we’ll send it to you. Now get the hell out of here.”
“I’d really like to look a little more. It has all my identification, credit cards...”
“Fuck your credit cards. Move it.”
Come on, Gwen, do as he says.
“You don’t understand,” Gwen blithered. “My entire life is in that wallet. If some unscrupulous person, some person of low moral character, were to find it... Well, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“Lady...”
“I should have listened to my husband. He’s always telling me, ‘Eleanor,’ he says... My friends call me Nell, but he prefers Eleanor, he says it sounds so much more dignified. Don’t you think it’s more dignified?”
“Lady, I’m warning you.”
“Anyway, Gus is always telling me, ‘Eleanor, you ought to subscribe to one of those credit card services.’ You know, you put your name on their list and when you lose your wallet you just call one number and they take care of everything. Isn’t that remarkable? For twenty dollars, maybe less, you have to shop around... For twenty dollars a year you never have to worry about anything again.”
For God’s sake, Gwen, get out of there.
“I’m giving you five seconds,” the man said.
“But knowing me,” Gwen went on, “I’d forget where I put the number. I’m like that. ‘Mind like a sieve,’ Gus says. Goodness, he’s going to be so angry. He won’t say a single word to me all the way home to Illinois. Can you imagine that? All the way home to Illinois without saying a word.”
“God dammit, lady...”
“Maybe I shouldn’t tell him. Maybe I should just offer a reward, a handsome reward to anyone who finds it. Do you think that’s a good idea, Mr... Mr...” She leaned forward to read the plastic identification tag on his breast pocket. “Mario. If you find it, Mr. Mario...”
He grabbed her arm and shoved her toward the gate. “I told you to MOVE IT!”
“Oh, I can’t go out that way,” Gwen said. “The gate was locked, so I came around the fence and my car’s just miles and miles and miles from here. But don’t you worry. I can go back the way I came. I’m sure you have loads of important work to do.”
“I’ll let you out. Hike to your car.” He yanked her toward the drive.
The other man watched them slack-jawed. Claire dangled from his hands like a rag doll.
“Get the bitch back in the house!” Mario snapped.
“Bitch?” Gwen asked innocently. “Strange language for a…”
Mario shoved her. “Shut up.”
Yes, Gwen, please shut up.
Gwen ambled toward the gate, chatting voraciously. Mario dogged her heels.
The other aide dragged Claire back to the house.
Stoner waited until they were out of sight and scrambled for the shore.
Bastard. If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.
She threw herself down the cliff, tearing her jeans.
Oh, Jesus, Gwen. Be all right. Please, be all right.
She plowed through water up to her knees and clawed her way up the slope. Downed branches exploded beneath her feet. She slid behind the wheel of the car and reached for the ignition.
Gwen had the keys.
God damn it!
It was almost too dark to see. In a panic, she stumbled up the road toward the gate.
Gwen materialized out of the mist and darkness, strolling along as if she were enjoying the scenery. “You look awful,” she said.
Stoner stood in the road and tried to catch her breath. “Did that son-of-a- bitch hurt you?”
“No, but he certainly is rude.” She looked Stoner over. “You’re going to catch your death of cold.”
“Don’t ever, ever do a crazy thing like that again. They might have killed you.”
“I doubt it. Bodies are harder to dispose of than Fords.”
“This isn’t funny, Gwen.”
“Well, I think I was very clever. Another ten seconds and she’d have led them right to us. Better to be caught wandering than hiding. How did you like my cover story? I believe I’m a born psychopath.”
“It was a lousy cover story. Nobody in their right mind would believe it for a minute.”
“It worked. didn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Stoner admitted. “I guess.”
“Big deal,” Gwen said, starting to walk away. “My moment of triumph and all you can say is, ‘I guess’. ”
Stoner grabbed her by the arms and shook her. “It’s Wyoming all over again, damn it! This isn’t a game! That man could have hurt you! You wouldn’t listen to me about Bryan, and you’re not listening now!”
Gwen tried to pull away. “Let me go, Stoner.”
“Not until you listen. People are dangerous, Gwen. Your father beat you, your husband tried to kill you ... for God’s sake, what do you do with that?”
“I said let me go!”
“Do you think life’s a movie, with fake blood and stand-ins?”
Gwen exploded. “I’ll tell you what I do with it, Stoner. I put it behind me. I tell myself, ‘okay, it happened, it’s over, it won’t happen again.’ Because if I don’t do that, I’ll go to bed afraid, and wake up afraid, and within six months I’ll be a neurotic, house-bound woman like my grandmother. Is that what you want me to be?”
“I’m sorry,” Stoner said, dropping her hands. “It’s just... if anything happened to you, I wouldn’t know how to live.”
“Stoner...” She reached for her.
Something in her broke. Out of control, she pulled Gwen to her roughly and kissed her hard on the mouth.
The earth turned somersaults.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
Her mind cleared. Ashamed and frightened, she drew back.
Gwen stared at the ground, her hands knotted into fists. “Leave me alone for a while, Stoner,” she said softly.
“I didn’t mean to do it, Gwen. Please, I’m sorry.”
Gwen turned her back.
“I didn’t mean to do it.”
Rain began to fall.
Helpless, broken, Stoner stood for a moment, then turned and trudged slowly toward the car.
I’ve ruined everything.
Her arms and legs felt like lead. Her throat was tight. Her eyes burned.
I didn’t mean to.
Darkness closed in hard. The rain worked its way through her jacket. She began to shiver, and didn’t care.
She didn’t know what to do.
Emptiness was everywhere. Around her, inside her. She rested her head against the top of the car and let the tears come.
Time slid past.
She felt Gwen touch her shoulder. “Get in the car, Stoner.”
She obeyed mechanically.
Gwen started the motor and turned on the dash lights and heater. “Take off your jacket,” she said, opening the zipper and peeling away the soggy wool. She fumbled in the glove compartment and handed Stoner a tissue. “It’s time to talk.”
Stoner wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She could feel Gwen’s hand on the back of her neck. “Don’t,” she said, and brushed her away.
“You’ve been a kind and gentle friend,” Gwen said, “and I haven’t treated you very well.” She paused. “Are you listening?”
Stoner nodded.
“Sometimes I’m not sure I know the difference between love and gratitude.”
Well, I know the difference between love and pity.
“I thought I loved Bryan. Maybe I did, I don’t know.”
Stoner felt a rush of cold anger. I really don’t need this right now.
“Love, gratitude, friendship... they get so mixed up.”
She forced herself to speak. “Can we just leave?”
“Please, I have to say this, but I want to do it right.”
Save your breath. I know an exit speech when I hear one.
“I never want to do anything to hurt you.”
Well, that’s charming. “Look,” she said gruffly, “I got carried away back there. It didn’t mean anything.”
Gwen stiffened. “I see.”
“So let’s get out of here before this road turns to mud.”
Gwen didn’t move.
“You do remember how to drive, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“So put her in gear and scratch gravel.”
“Stoner…”
Glancing up, she could see Gwen’s face reflected in the windshield. In the greenish light, it looked like a death mask. “I’m not hot for your body, you know. I have other fish to fry.”
Gwen looked down. “Then may I ask you something?”
“Can it wait? This car’s like a sauna.”
She gripped the wheel. “No, it can’t wait.”
“Whatever you say. You’re in the driver’s seat.”
Gwen took a deep breath. “Do you have a lover?”
“No.”
“Are you in love with anyone?”
“Yes.”
“Do I know her?”
“I doubt it.”
“Why aren’t you lovers?”
“She’s straight.”
Gwen turned toward her. “Oh, Stoner, I’m so sorry.”
“Those are the breaks.”
“Well, I hope it works out.”
“Thank you.”
“I wish you’d told me.”
“It didn’t seem feasible.”
The motor hummed, wavered, stalled. Gwen didn’t move.
“You killed the car,” Stoner said. She looked up. Something slid down Gwen’s cheek and left a glistening trail. “Gwen, are you crying?”
“I want you to be happy, Stoner. I really do.”
“Gwen?”
Another tear slipped down her cheek.
“Gwen.”
Gwen wiped her face on her sleeve. “I promised myself I wouldn’t do this,” she said. “I promised myself I’d be mature about it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I knew I couldn’t expect you to wait until I’d straightened out my life. I didn’t expect you to, but I hoped...”
“I did wait.”
Gwen glanced at her, then away. “You loved me once,” she said in a small voice, “didn’t you?”
“I still love you.”
“As a friend.”
She took Gwen’s hand. “Gwen…”
Gwen smiled feebly. “I always knew I had a lousy sense of timing.”
“What are you talking about, Gwen?”
“Ever since last summer... ever since Bryan... I’ve been asking myself what I really wanted. For my life. From you. But it was all so muddled. I mean, you go along not asking, just assuming it’s the way you were always told it should be. Maybe it doesn’t always feel just right, but you find reasons, excuses for the doubts...”
“Please, Gwen, get to the...”
“Back there on the road, just now, when you kissed me... all of a sudden it came together, and...” Her voice trailed off.
“What came together?”
“That what I’ve wanted, all along, was to be your lover.”
“Oh, shit,” Stoner said, and covered her face with her hands.
Gwen glanced at her. “I sound like a bad movie, don’t I?”
It’s not that, my friend, my love. The problem is, at this very moment, when my number has finally come up in the Great megabucks of Life, I can see... gathering on the horizon... the advance troops of The Terrible Giggles from Another Planet.
“Stoner, I wish you’d say something.”
Come on, guys, this isn’t right. It’s inappropriate. Rude. Crass. Tacky.
She ground her teeth.
“Don’t just sit there, Stoner. Please.”
Give me a break, fellas. It’s Serious time.
“Stoner.”
“They’re here,” she said, and burst into laughter.
“Look,” Gwen said tightly, “it’s bad enough I just made a fool of myself. You don’t have to…”
Stoner grabbed her arm. “That isn’t it,” she choked. Her eyes watered. Her jaw ached.
“Well, what’s so damn funny?”
“Me,” she managed to say. “You. Us.”
