The Life Thief

by Cherie Mitchell

  Sasha made a funny self-conscious giggle that didn’t sound at all like Sasha. “He asked me if I’d brought my bikini. Is it wrong of me to feel flattered by that?”

  “It’s not wrong if you didn’t act on it.” Becky could hear the reprimand in her voice and she hated herself for it. Sasha was deeply in love with her husband and she’d never do anything to jeopardize the relationship. Besides, she was a person with high morals and cheating would never cross her mind. These days, a small voice reminded Becky. Sasha had gone through a wild patch in her early twenties but that time was a long way distant now.

  Sasha gave an exaggerated sigh. “I didn’t act on it. I told him I was there on business, worse luck.”

  “Sasha!”

  “I’m joking. It was all well above board. We sat at the kitchen counter with a coffee and went over the proposed marketing plan. Nothing more and nothing less.”

  “So you made the quip about the Jacuzzi up?”

  Sasha’s eye sparkled as she relived the moment in her mind. “Not exactly. He did ask me if I’d like to join him in the hot tub sometime and he said that the offer was always there. He even pulled a chilled bottle of my favorite wine out of the fridge to show me.”

  “He knows your favorite wine?! Sasha, that’s really creepy.”

  “No! He didn’t know it was my favorite before he took it out of the fridge. That part was just a coincidence.” Again, she did that odd giggle.

  “There’s no such thing as a coincidence,” Becky muttered darkly. “Do you want me to come with you the next time you meet him at his house?”

  Sasha tipped her head back and laughed, although Becky still thought her mirth sounded put on and fake. “He’d love that. Two gorgeous girls in his Jacuzzi, a bottle of wine, and Bob’s your uncle.”

  It was the last part that got Becky. She dropped her interrogational attitude and collapsed against her friend’s side in a fit of giggles. “Bob’s your uncle? Really, Sasha?”

  “Who the fuck is Alice?”

  Now Becky was laughing so much that she could barely stand. She felt breathless and lightheaded, as if she’d had too much to drink. She was aware of the disdainful looks of passersby but she couldn’t put a stop to her helpless hysteria. “Stop it. I’m about to wet my pants in the middle of Downtown.

  Sasha snorted and hiccupped. “And after that, he invited me to Lonesome Bottom for a game of poke-her.”

  Becky felt her bladder tighten and loosen, which was a disconcerting sensation while she was out here in the middle of a public street. She knew she shouldn’t find any of this funny – Lonesome Bottom was a well-known area of Portland and Sasha’s poker joke was childish – but the moment had long since passed for sense and sensibility. “I can’t walk all the way back to the office,” she gasped. “Call an Uber. Now.”

  Sasha had finally regained enough of her decorum to notice Becky’s distress. “Are you okay?”

  “I urgently need to pee,” Becky hissed. “I’m either going to have to pee my pants, squat in the gutter, or find a bathroom, pronto.”

  “Here.” Sasha placed her hands on Becky’s shoulders and spun her around. “Bar. Bathroom. Go.”

  Becky waddled through the door that Sasha held open, giving the server who walked up to greet her a pained, uncomfortable smile as she asked where the bathrooms were. She suddenly felt exhausted, embarrassed, and very, very juvenile.

  Sasha grinned at her when she walked back out to the street, avoiding the server’s eyes as she passed through the bar. “Feel better?”

  “Why doesn’t that ever happen to you?” Becky grumbled. “I’m always the one who ends up urgently needing to find a bathroom.”

  “Superior bladder strength,” Sasha said airily. “Come on, let’s go back to work. I want to see if Alice has restructured the office in our absence, demoted the pair of us, and made herself CEO.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Sasha. I’ve already told you she’s not like that.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Becky! Becky! Wake up.”

  Becky’s eyes snapped open and she stared sightlessly into Michael’s worried face where it hovered above her. Something had been chasing her, something with huge claws and sharp teeth, and it had almost caught her when Michael woke her up. Her heart raced as she turned her face into the pillow, trying to snatch back enough of the dream to see what it was chasing her. “Why can’t I ever see it properly?” she mumbled into the pillow. “It won’t ever show its face to me.”

  “It’s a nightmare. It’s not real.” Michael exhaled and flopped back against his pillows. “I was having a wonderful dream and you scared me out of it.”

  “What was your dream? Can you remember it?” She turned over and curled on her side, pressing her hand against her breast in an attempt to slow her heart.

  “I was an Emperor with hundreds of dancing girls as my nubile slaves. They were just in the middle of disrobing me before leading me to the sunken baths.” He sighed wistfully. “You interrupted it at the best part.”

  Becky giggled. “You clearly have an overactive imaginative. I never have dreams like that.”

  She saw him shut his eyes in the dim light of the bedroom. “Maybe I can slip back into it. Princess Becky was about to soap me up and rub me down.”

  Becky didn’t laugh. She didn’t want to close her own eyes. The terror was still too close. She flipped back the covers and swiveled her legs out of bed. “I’m going downstairs to get a drink of water. Do you want one?”

  Michael’s only response was a soft snore. Becky picked up her robe from the chair and threw it over her shoulders. She had another reason for wanting to go downstairs. Lucifer had not turned up again last night despite her calling for him for what seemed like hours. It was not like him to stay away so long. He was too focused on his mealtimes for that. She wondered if he was still disgruntled about her desertion and Michael’s cavalier attitude toward his feeding routine. Who could tell with a cat like Lucifer?

  She unlocked the front door and stared out into the night, half-expecting him to come running at the sound of the opening door but there was still no sign of him. “Lucifer? Lucifer! Puss, puss.” She stopped calling and waited, listening. Something rustled in the bushes at the side of the house and her hopes soared. “Lucifer, come on sweetheart. You must be hungry.”

  However, the expected small black shadow did not emerge from the bushes. Becky called and listened for a few minutes longer before reluctantly shutting the door. Was he lying hurt somewhere? Had a dog chased him away, frightening him so much that he couldn’t find his way home? Had he been hit by a car? This not knowing was awful.

  She went through to the kitchen, forcing herself not to stare at his empty food dish. He wasn’t the friendliest of cats but she missed his presence all the same. Perhaps she should put a notice up on the local community’s Facebook page. Maybe she would post an advertisement in the Lost and Found section of the newspaper, too. She took her glass of water and walked through to Michael’s study to use the laptop. The room felt stuffy and unloved as she pushed the door open and switched on the light. Michael didn’t use this room much and she hardly ever came in. Michael worked late most nights and he said he didn’t want to get into the habit of bringing work home. She felt the same way; it was important for them to have their own sanctuary away from their busy office lives.

  She turned on the laptop and waited for it to load. This computer was hardly ever used either. They both had their own personal laptops and they’d bought this one as a spare. She ran her finger over the coating of dust on the cover. She’d have to have a word with the housekeeper. She giggled to herself, amused by her own thoughts. What housekeeper?

  Becky logged into her Facebook page and spent a few minutes scrolling through her newsfeed, smiling at Ellen’s excited posts about her upcoming wedding. Her parents had put up some photos of their renovations too and she added a few appreciative comments before checking her notifications. She opened the friend request
notification, wondering if one of her clients had sent it. Sometimes they did this and she generally accepted, although she would limit the content that they could access through her settings. Her personal life was hers and she wanted to keep it that way.

  She blinked when she saw Alice Cooper’s name and picture come up. Curious, she opened the woman’s page but there was very little there save for the photo she was using as her profile picture and a single post about how busy she was at work. There were no friends listed under the friends tab either. Becky chewed at her lip, undecided as to whether she should accept the request. She and Alice had been thrown into a friendship of sorts at the retreat and for the time being Alice was her employee. Did she want to prolong their relationship by befriending her on social media? Feeling uneasy, she accepted the request anyway and changed the settings so Alice could see only what Becky’s clients were able to see. Maybe Alice wasn’t a big social media user anyway. The sparse Facebook page seemed to reflect that but it did feel odd to be Alice’s only Facebook friend.

  She clicked into the community page and wrote a short post, asking to be contacted if anyone saw a small black cat in the area that looked as if it were lost. She went ahead and posted the message although she didn’t hold high hopes of a response. She’d call the newspaper from work in the morning and place her Lost & Found ad.

  She placed her fingers on the keyboard again, about to log into her emails before dropping her hands back down into her lap. She didn’t want to wake herself up too much by dwelling on work problems at this time of the night. She closed down the computer and walked over to the window, hoping against hope that Lucifer might be sitting on the windowsill outside and meowing at her to let him in. She thought he might have seen the light shining from the study and decided to show himself at last.

  She peered through the blinds and squinted out at the empty yard. The light behind her threw out slanted strips from the blinds and they lay across the lawn like prison bars. Lucifer wasn’t out there and the night world stood still and quiet. The moon had risen above the trees now, throwing long, dark shadows across the pool cover. Michael had cleaned the pool and prepared it for winter while she was away at the retreat and those languid days they’d spent around it during the summer felt far distant now. She dropped the blinds back down and was about to leave the room when she heard it. Something tapped once against the glass then fell silent. She hurried back to window and threw open the blinds, intending to push open the window to let her cat in. “Lucifer? Where have you been, you naughty boy?”

  There was no cat on the windowsill but as she looked out, a shadow skittered across the lawn and disappeared behind the pool house. Becky frowned as she pressed her nose up against the glass, trying to see what it was. From the size of the shadow, it looked too big to be a cat but if it wasn’t a cat what was it? A raccoon? She tapped against the glass with her fingernails although she wasn’t quite sure why she did it. Whatever it was that she’d seen, it was gone now. She pulled the blinds closed and left the study, pulling the door shut behind her. She should go back to bed. Tomorrow was shaping up to be another busy day and roaming around the house in the early hours wasn’t doing her any good. At least her nightmare had faded now, leaving her mind free to fall back into dreamless sleep.

  She left her empty glass on the counter, looked sadly at Lucifer’s food dish, and switched off the lights. She could hear Michael’s snores from here. Grinning at the thought of climbing into bed and mischievously pressing her cold body against his, she headed back upstairs.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I’m getting a tattoo. I’ve always wanted one,” Sasha announced.

  Becky stared at her. Sasha had just walked back into the office after a morning of client meetings and her announcement was utterly unexpected. “Since when?”

  “Since forever. You should know better than anyone how badass I am.” She winked at Alice as she walked over to her desk and Becky spun around on her chair to watch her. “When are you getting this done? And where?”

  “Two o’clock. At Hellish Ink.” Sasha dropped her briefcase onto her desk with a small clatter.

  Becky laughed. “No, I meant whereabouts on your body are you getting it done?”

  “Oh. On my hip. I want to cover that scar I got when I was a kid and I fell out of the apple tree. You know how much it’s always annoyed me.” She glanced at Alice, who had her head down and was working on something at her desk. “You should come with me, Becky. You might decide to have one done.”

  “I’ve never even considered it. What are you getting?”

  “A trio of letters. I have a picture of them here.” She scrabbled in her briefcase for a piece of paper and walked across to show it to Becky. “It’ll cover the scar perfectly and I love the symbolism.”

  “M.E.B. Meb? What does that stand for?”

  Sasha flicked the lock on her briefcase with one perfectly manicured finger. “Anything you want. Acronyms are so popular right now and I wanted to make up one of my own. I thought Mutiny, Effervescence, and Bravado might be a good start.”

  Becky giggled. “Cute and irreverent, just like you.” Becky looked at the design again before handing back the page. It certainly wouldn’t be her choice but it was Sasha’s tattoo, not hers. “I’d love to come with you but I have an appointment with Jill at the house in Aloha at two.” She glanced at her phone where it lay on her desk as a text pinged in. “That’s her now.” She opened the message to read it as Alice asked to see the tattoo design. “And no, I don’t have an appointment with Jill at two. She’s just cancelled.” She turned around and grinned at Sasha. “I guess I’m coming to watch you get pricked.”

  Hellish Tattoos, with its tinted dark windows and elaborately decorated signage was an intriguing place. Becky stopped outside as Sasha went to open the door. “I feel vaguely naughty going in here, but I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because my Dad once warned me that if I ever got a tattoo he’d disown me.”

  “Does he still feel that way?”

  “I doubt it. After what happened, I think he’s just happy to have me alive in whatever condition he finds me.” She followed Sasha inside, staring around with interest at the colorful designs that covered the walls. “Some of these are so pretty!”

  “Are you sure you can’t be tempted?” She glanced at Becky’s wrist. “You have scars too.”

  “Mmmm.” Becky pulled back her sleeve to look at the scars while Sasha spoke to the heavily tattooed man behind the counter. She wasn’t ashamed of her scars but some of these tattoo designs were breathtaking. She peered closely at a drawing of a small black cat with its tail curled into a question mark. It would be nice to have a memory of Lucifer, especially if he never came back. She went over to join Sasha at the counter, feeling daring and dangerous. “Do you have any spare appointments? I could get one done at the same time as my friend.”

  The man barely glanced at her, clearly not seeing her as a daring and dangerous person at all. “How big? Colored or black ink?”

  “Black.” She made googly eyes at Sasha’s surprised expression. “Just a small one on my wrist. I like that cat design.” She pointed at the picture on the wall.

  The man nodded but he didn’t look very enthusiastic. Becky supposed it was because he enjoyed creating more elaborate and bigger designs than the one she’d chosen. “I could do yours while Saul does the letters for your friend. I’ll have to charge you our minimum rate though, even if it doesn’t take very long.”

  “That’s fine,” Becky said cheerfully, aware that if she thought too hard about it she might back down. “I’ll happily pay the minimum.”

  Ten minutes later, the women were both prepared and waiting in two black vinyl reclining chairs. Sasha lay on her side with her skirt off and a towel laid over her to protect her modesty. On the tattooist’s instructions, Becky rested her arm on the wide armrest with her wrist facing upward. Becky grimaced at the man from the front desk, who’d introduced himself as Sam. “Is this goi
ng to hurt?”

  “Pain is a state of mind,” Sam said cheerfully as he swiped some cold liquid across her wrist. He peered at the scars and ran his gloved finger over the flat, silvery lines. “You want it on top of those?”

  She was suddenly afraid that he might say he couldn’t do it. She had her heart set on having that black cat now. “Yes, why? Will it be hard to do it there?”

  “Not at all.” He laid the image that he’d sketched onto a piece of paper on her wrist and pressed it down lightly. “Here?”

  “Yes.” She watched as he pressed the paper down harder then removed it to show the faint, inked outline of the cat on her skin. “I love it already.”

  The tattooing itself, while not too painful, seemed endless when in fact she’d been sitting here for not much more than 20 minutes. Becky shut her eyes and gritted her teeth, trying to shut out the constant gna gna gna noise of the machine and the pricking, constant pressure. She heard Sasha let out a small whimper from her recliner and she opened her eyes. “Hang in there, Sash. It’ll all be worth it.”

  “It generally hurts more to get it done on your hip than on your wrist,” Sam said conversationally. “Different nerves under the skin.”

  Becky nodded, keeping her eyes open to watch his progress. The last bit was nearly done and she’d be glad when he finally turned that machine off. He made a few final additions to the cat’s tail and sat back. “What do you think?”

  She lifted her wrist and gazed in delight at her permanent new pet. “It’s adorable! Can I touch it?”

  “Probably not a good idea until it’s healed. I’m going to put some cream and a cover on it. Just be gentle with it over the next few days, and once you’ve removed the film make sure you keep putting the cream on it so it doesn’t dry out.” He finished his task and stood up. “I can sell you a tube of the cream back at the counter.”

  “Great.” She stood up, surprised that her legs felt wobbly. She grabbed hold of the chair arm to steady herself. “Whoa. I’m a bit dizzy.”