Pretty Baby

by Pretty Baby (NCP) (lit)

  Shadoe looked at him, his eyes dazed. “Huh?”

  “I said,” Garret repeated a second time, a twinge of impatience settling over him, “what have you got in mind?” When Shadoe didn’t answer right away, he looked down at Julita. “Honey, this is....” His eyes slid back up at Shadoe. “How much of the truth does she know? I mean....”

  “I know him,” she whispered, now looking at Shadoe as she would a bully on the playground that had been mean to her. “I mean … well, I’ve seen him … around the inn.”

  “Let me do this, Garret,” Shadoe said, his gaze settling intently on Julita. “Julita, I’m Lieutenant Shadoe Madison with the New York Police Department. My job as an undercover cop leads me into situations just like this one. I masquerade as someone else until I get the lowdown on my target, then close in with an arrest.”

  “You mean … like in the movies?”

  Shadoe shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. Except we use real bullets. When you see blood spurt, it’s real. No special effects and no actors. When you’re dead, you’re dead. No getting up and walking around the next day.”

  Her eyes widened, looking at him in a different way. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.” Shadoe chuckled at the childlike quality he still found appealing.

  His eyes turned toward Garret, then began explaining. “When I first came here I knew something wasn’t right, but I had the crazy notion that Julita was the dangerous one.” His eyes shifted to Julita. “Now I know I was wrong.” His eyes became pointed, and delved deeply into hers, holding them captive. “Wrong about a lot of things.”

  Her eyes lowered, painfully remembering the scene in her room.

  “Hell, Shadoe, how could you think...?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered apologetically, still looking at Julita. “I saw a lot of things … the markings on her face ... the mask … the way she dressed....”

  “Mask?” Garret muttered curiously, but Shadoe didn’t hear him.

  “I tried to put it all together. And then when I found her room quite by accident, I couldn’t believe anyone could live like that. I figured it had to be a hoax, an act of some sort. I thought the two of them were....” Hesitating, he took a deep, agonizing breath. “Oh God, I accused her of some awful things.” His eyes reluctantly slid from Julita toward Garret. “You might have heard me.”

  “Not all of it. That ventilator has turned into a regular mystery box. When the inn is full like it is now, I never know what I’m going to hear. Sometimes I’ll be listening to a conversation in one room, then it gets interrupted by a loud TV in another room, or people arguing at the top of their lungs. It’s pretty frustrating.” He laughed and winked. “Especially when I’ve just tuned in on something pretty juicy.”

  Only half listening to Garret’s words, Shadoe responded with a slight smile, then looked away from him, and into Julita’s eyes. Picking up her hand, he said, “I’d like to apologize for the way....” He felt her hand withdrawing. “No, Julita, listen to me,” he said, grabbing her hand and holding it in a firm grasp. “I need to apologize for the things I said. You didn’t deserve that. I know that now.”

  “It’s okay,” she finally managed, her eyes downcast.

  “Anyway,” Shadoe said, pulling back and looking around the shadowed basement, “now that you’re here, you’re going to have to stay.”

  “Here?” she said, her lids flying open and staring at him. Her head turned slightly as she gazed around the room.

  Shadoe’s head jerked back around at her question. “Of course here. You can’t go back to her and expect things to continue as usual. She tried to kill you.”

  Julita cringed, thinking about it. “But where will I sleep?” she asked timidly.

  “I’ll fix up a place for you, and make sure you and your father are well fed.”

  Garret was pleased with that plan, and looked at Julita. “He’s the good guy, Julita, and a cop to boot. He knows what he’s doing, sweetheart, so listen to him. Okay?”

  Julita nodded, looking back at Shadoe with a strange depth in her striking violet eyes … eyes that made Shadoe a little weak in the knees.

  “Lucretia will continue looking for you unless she has reason not to.”

  “What do you mean?” Garret asked.

  His eyes darted back to Garret. “Well … I’ve been thinking….” His words faded as he rubbed his jaw, considering what he was going to say. Finally he looked up into the old man’s watery blue eyes. “I think we should make it appear that she has drowned in the ocean.”

  Julita gasped, her eyes full of fear.

  Catching his attention, he looked at her. “I’m sorry, Julita, but the only way Lucretia is going to stop searching for you is to believe you’re dead. Otherwise she’ll continue looking, and eventually make it down here.”

  “He’s right, sweetheart. If she finds us down here together there’s no telling what she’ll do.” He looked at Shadoe, unable to keep the respect from shining in his eyes. “Any other thoughts?”

  “Our next problem is you. We can’t allow her to shoot you up again, so we have to stage your death ... make it look like you’ve slit your wrists.”

  “Now you’ve lost me.”

  “We know she’ll eventually make it down here to check on you. When she comes in, you’re slumped over the basin, blood everywhere. Your eyes will be open, your skin pasty. I’ve got everything we’ll need out in my car.”

  “You do come prepared don’t you? Why in hell would you have something like that in your car?”

  “I keep it there … in the trunk. Like I told you, I specialize in undercover work. My schedule usually keeps me hopping from one job to another, not much time in between. It’s easier to keep it there instead of spending my time packing and unpacking. I’ve got all kinds of gadgets. Theatrical makeup, disguises. I’ve even paraded through haunted houses as a ghost lots of times. Actually in my line of work you have to be an actor … sort of.”

  “Well....” Garret said, with some hesitation. “I don’t think it’ll work. What if Lucretia feels for a pulse?”

  “She won’t. The scene will be too gory. Keep in mind she only has to see you for a few seconds. If my guess is right, she'll turn and run.”

  He snorted. “You don’t know Lucretia.”

  “Think about it. The basement is dark. Cobwebs hanging, and in among them is a corpse dangling over the basin. You’re pale, your eyeballs have rolled back in your head. If she doesn’t run from that, she’s not human.”

  “Eyeballs rolled back? Pale? How will we do all that?”

  “Just leave it to me.”

  “You mean she’ll just leave me lying there?”

  “Let’s hope she does, otherwise she’ll find out it’s a fake.”

  “Damned bitch. It’d be just like her to leave me lying there until I’m nothing but a lot of bony remains.” He looked up at Shadoe. “Not even a proper burial in sanctified ground!”

  “Garret, hell man, you’d better hope she hates you as much as you say she does, otherwise we’re in deep shit. One finger on you and that’s all she wrote. Nobody would believe a warm corpse no matter how bad they look. Let’s just hope I can make the scene gory enough that she'll decide to leave you down here until hell freezes over.”

  Garret scowled and scratched his head. “Why? I can understand staging Julita’s death, but why mine?”

  “Garret think a minute. What has been her reason for coming down here before?”

  “To make my life miserable,” he answered hotly.

  “To see how close to death you were. Sure, she fed you….”

  “Fed me? That slop?”

  “Exactly. She knew you couldn’t eat it. She was just watching … waiting. Then when you weren’t dying fast enough she gave you the hypodermic. That one was only a sedative. You can bet the next one will be full of poison.”

  Garret shivered. “Well, you’re the boss. Okay, so what about a note? Do I leave a note?”

  “
I thought about that, but I don’t think so. We sure as hell don’t want her hanging around, and if she took the time to read a note, then she’s not scared nearly enough. The note is out. Can’t take the chance. It’s imperative that we scare the hell out of her so she’ll run and never look back.”

  “I wish I was as sure about this as you are. I still think a funeral....”

  “Garrett, how long have you been down here?”

  “You know how long. Fifteen god-awful years.”

  “Then why would she have a funeral at this late date? She’s told Julita you were dead. The guests think you’re dead. She slipped up when she didn’t tell the same story to the help, but thank God she didn’t, otherwise I’d never have known she was lying. To everybody who counts, you’re as dead as the goddamned bricks in the wall. The nine-to-five crowd comes and goes, here one day, gone the next, so what they believe is not important. But the others … the ones who believe you’re already dead? Hell, man, it would be insane to have a funeral for fifteen-year-old corpse. I doubt she’ll even have a memorial service for Julita. If I know Lucretia, she’ll probably tell everyone that she had to send her away. Whatever the story, it’ll be something she can get out of the way as soon as possible to get on with her life.”

  “What are you going to do in the meantime?”

  “Stay the hell away from her if I can. She already thinks I have a thing for her, and I don’t want to encourage her. Maybe I can think up something that’ll tighten the screws in her coffin.” Shadoe paced, thinking. “She gave you the hypodermic this morning, so she’ll probably come down and check on you a little later. That’s when she needs to see you hanging over the basin.” When Shadoe turned back, he saw Julita staring longingly at the picnic basket. “Julita, are you hungry?”

  Julita nodded timidly, pulling her eyes away from the basket.

  “Garret, is there anything left in the picnic basket?”

  “I don’t know. I think we drank all the beer and wine.” He stretched his neck. “I see some cheese there.”

  Shadoe knelt by the basket and moved the cloth back. “Bingo,” he said, bringing some chicken and cheese out. He put them on the mobile table and Julita scooted out of her father’s lap and sat on a stool in front of the table. She grabbed up a piece of chicken and began eating voraciously.

  “When was the last time you had anything to eat?” Garret asked, looking at her with a curious scowl.

  Julita shrugged while looking at him and munching on a chicken leg. “Two nights ago I had a sandwich.”

  Garret’s eyes sparked anger. “Two nights ago? Isn’t Lucretia feeding you?”

  Julita shook her head. “Not anymore. I sneak in the kitchen at night.”

  Garret looked at Shadoe with fear in his eyes. “My God, she’s already started starving her.”

  “I’ll feed her, Garret, don’t worry.” Looking back over at Julita, he didn’t see the mask anywhere. “Where’s your mask? Did you lose it again?”

  “That’s the second time you’ve mentioned some kind of … what … mask … is that what you said? What the hell are you talking about?”

  Shadoe looked at Julita as if she should be the one to tell the story.

  Garret’s eyes slid toward Julita, waiting for her to speak.

  “My face....” she mumbled, her mouth full of food, “it’s all scarred … and everything. Lucretia makes me wear a mask. She made it for me. It hides my face.”

  “Who told you that?” Garret asked curiously.

  “Who the hell do you think?” Shadoe answered.

  “But she can see....” Garret began.

  “Garret, don’t tell me you didn’t know.” Shadoe began, “Julita’s been living in a world of lies, drugs, beatings, you name it.”

  “How the hell would I know? I’ve been down here for fifteen years.” He indicated to the ventilator. “That’s not a friggin’ TV, you know. I can’t see a thing, and can hardly hear some things. And if I do happen to hear a familiar voice, it gets interrupted by somebody’s loud TV or argument.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just didn’t realize,” he said. “Apparently Lucretia has brainwashed her into thinking she has scars on her face. Mind control. I’ve seen it before. Someone becomes obsessed, takes them prisoner, uses hypnotism, mind-bending drugs. That’s why all the crazy marks you see there. It’s my guess she got a head start on Julita. Must have started when she was young. Can you imagine? The only thing that saved Julita is growing up … having a mind of her own. Being brave enough to burst out of her shell and fighting Lucretia. Suddenly being free became more important to her than the scars she still believed she had on her face.”

  “My God, she’s crazier than I thought. It must have started the minute she put me in the basement. Julita was three.” He looked back at Julita. “Did it start then, sweetheart?”

  Julita shrugged. “I guess. It’s just always been that way. Way back as far as I can remember.” She had just opened her mouth to take another bite of chicken when she happened to look up at Shadoe and saw him staring at her. She suddenly became aware of how she must look. Quickly dropping the chicken, she looked at her hands and felt of her face, feeling crumbs and cooking oil. Wanting the floor to swallow her up, she wiped her hands on her dress and lowered her eyes. “What is it?” she managed when he kept staring.

  Shadoe leaned toward her and took her arm. “Come with me.” He led her to the sink, picked up a wash rag and saturated it with soap and water.

  “No,” she said, struggling with him when he took her face in his hands.

  “Julita, please. I just want to show you how beautiful you are. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She shook her head and recoiled, afraid.

  “Julita....” Shadoe urged, then looked at her father. “Garret, tell her.”

  “Julita, baby,” Garret said while looking at her with a gleam of love in his eyes. “You can trust Shadoe. He’s here to help us.”

  Her eyes burned into his. “You want me to Papa?”

  “Yes, baby, I do.” He saw her reluctance. “I wouldn’t tell you to do something that would hurt you, sweetheart. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Papa,” she answered. He had to be telling her the truth, she reasoned with herself. She could see it in his eyes. Slowly she forced herself to turn toward Shadoe, looked down at the dripping cloth, then murmured, “Okay.”

  Shadoe approached her slowly, careful not to frighten her. He wanted to kiss away her fear, take care of her, but after a lifetime of abuse, she was fragile. Being very careful, he cupped her face in one hand while he rubbed with the other. Several minutes passed, and when her face was finally clean of the macabre drawings, it was like the sun just came out from behind a dark cloud. Large, violet eyes, lips that were full, pink and pillowed into the sweetest softness he had ever seen. Dark, sooty lashes with a tilt to the corners of her eyes that could have convinced him that they held all the mysterious secrets of the Far East. Her lids were lazy, and her brows fanned up into an intriguing arch, making her face hers alone … not like millions of other women. Shadoe had felt all along that she was different, and she was … in her own way. Her creamy, heart-shaped face went well with her red-gold hair that tumbled around her face, the last few riotous hours pulling it out of a rubber band at her nape. He wanted to kiss the loveliness, the innocence, but instead, slowly turned her to the dingy mirror. She stared, but her face was shadowed and indistinct. It seemed to get lost within the gloom of the room and the dark patches where the silver backing had worn off. Realizing the problem, Shadoe quickly plunged his hand in his pocket and retrieved a lighter, then placed it near her face and struck it. The flame revealed a perfect face. No scars … nothing.

  “I can’t believe it,” she whispered, while lifting a hand to her face and feeling around on it. “Am I pretty?” she asked while still mesmerized by her reflection.

  “No,” Shadoe said. She turned, looking at him with fear in her eyes, but smiled when
he continued, saying, “you’re beautiful.”

  She turned back and looked at her hair. Reaching up, she pulled at the rubber band and allowed it to fall into a bouncing, red-gold, glossy curtain that hung well below her shoulders, reaching her waist. “Look, my hair, it’s … what color is it?”

  “A beautiful reddish blonde,” Shadoe answered while looking into the mirror where her face was framed. He looked back at Garret. “She seems to be in love with that mirror. I think we might have started something here.”

  “So what?” he said with a grumpy voice. “She deserves to know she’s beautiful.”

  Julita was still staring at herself, her violet eyes luminous and bright, and her creamy skin perfect. She turned to Shadoe. “She told me I was ugly … that I had big, ugly, puckering scars on my face.” She frowned as the painful memories returned. “And … and I believed her.” She looked back up at Shadoe. “She said an animal scratched my face when I was a child….”