Little Death by the Sea

by Susan Kiernan-Lewis

  “What do you want to do now, Elise?” Maggie sank down on the couch next to her. She carefully picked up her sister’s hand and held it.

  “I want, darling, to get myself in order. I want my baby back. I want to see Mother again...and Dad, and hold them and not think that I caused them the misery I know I did.” Her eyes looked clear and focused, and within seconds the two sisters were in each other’s arms.

  “I can’t believe you’re back, I missed you so much.” Maggie put her arms around Elise, smelling the musty rankness of her.

  “I know, mon chou, I know, me too.” Elise held her tightly, caressing her hair. They sat that way and rocked for a few minutes before Maggie pulled back slightly.

  “Shall I call Mother and Dad?”

  Elise shook her head.

  “Why don’t I get myself cleaned up first?” She gestured to her clothes. “I want to present myself to them, you know? Do you understand? Not like this?”

  Maggie nodded.

  “And Maggie, darling, I’ll need to score some stuff, sweetheart. I’ll need you to help with that.” Then, seeing the expression on Maggie’s face, “Just enough to get through seeing them again, after that, I’m kicking it, okay? I promise. But I can’t see them while I’m going through withdrawal, right? I don’t want them to see me like this, Maggie, do you understand?”

  Maggie didn’t answer.

  “I have some for a little bit but I’ll need more soon.”

  Maggie couldn’t imagine where Elise had her little stash. She hadn’t come dumped with a purse or valise or anything. She felt strange knowing there were illegal drugs somewhere in her natty little flat.

  “Let’s worry about it later,” Maggie said. “You know I’ll help.”

  “Good, thank you, Maggie. And we’ll all of us be ready and fit to make work our brave new world.” She smiled sweetly at her.

  “Nicole will be so happy to see you.”

  “I expect she’s pretty changed since I saw her last. It’s been nearly a year, you know.”

  “Mother’s been working with her.”

  “I can’t imagine a better person to be mothering her. Meanwhile, I’m exhausted.” She rubbed her scraped elbow from Gerard’s dumping and laughed lightly. “Body-worn, jet-lagged and ready to sleep. Are you going to work tomorrow?”

  Maggie nodded.

  “Will you be ready to see Mother and Dad by this weekend, do you think?” Maggie asked.

  “That should be fine.” Elise yawned and stood up from the couch. “You really don’t have to give up your bed to me, little sister. The couch would be fine. God knows, I’ve slept on worst.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Maggie said, as she stood up, brushing her lightly trembling hands against her jeans. “I’ll get an extra blanket for you.” Elise shuffled across the floor to the bedroom door and then turned.

  “Find me something decent to wear tomorrow and I’ll get my hair hacked off or something...”

  “Combed?”

  Elise laughed.

  “It’s a thought, anyway. “

  “I’ll pick up a dress or something tomorrow at the mall, how’s that?”

  Elise closed her eyes briefly and smiled.

  “That’s wonderful, Maggie. Just perfect.”

  Maggie snapped off the living room lamp and went to the hall closet for extra blankets.

  “Oh, Maggie?”

  “Yes, Elise?”

  “See if you could find something with some color to it, would you? Maybe a pretty pink or something?”

  “Sure, Elise.” Maggie stood in the darkness for a moment, her arms still poised over her head, her hands resting on the closet’s top shelf. She heard the gentle click of the bedroom door as it shut.

  Chapter 7

  1

  The headline lay bleakly across the front page: Intruder Robs and Rapes 2nd Victim. Dierdre smoothed the page flat with her hands. When are they going to get this guy, she wondered? She moved her mug of decaffeinated coffee closer to her and started to read the body copy.

  “Maggie in yet?”

  She looked up quickly, and nodded to Gerry as he was coming in the front door. “Are you on the front desk today?” he asked. “Where’s Jenny?”

  “Sick, I guess.” Dierdre shrugged and managed a smile for Gerry’s scowl.

  “Again?” He snapped his own daily paper against his thigh. “What’s the deal here? She’s always sick. What’s the point of having a receptionist if she’s never here to receive? Oh, never mind.” He turned on his heel and stomped into the recesses of the office, presumably to wind his way down the corridor to the kitchen where Dierdre had a pot of coffee perking away.

  She looked back down at the newspaper article. “An unidentified young woman at the Claymore Apartments was awakened in the middle of the night by an intruder who told her to put a pillowcase over her head...”

  “Hey, Dierds, is Gerry in yet?”

  Maggie leaned over the receptionist’s desk to sign the agency attendance sheet.

  Dierdre nodded, “Uh huh, just got here, he—“

  “Where’s Jenny? Man, that girl is hopeless. What is it this time?”

  “I don’t know. Just sick.”

  “Gerry is in, did you say?” Maggie hurried down the corridor not waiting for a reply.

  Dierdre sighed and straightened the paper back out. “...after which she was sexually assaulted by the man, said to be in his early thirties. Detective Lieutenant John Burton revealed to the press that the woman was made to...”

  The phone rang and Dierdre gave another sigh, pushed the paper away and picked up the receiver before it could ring twice.

  “Selby & Parkers, good morning,” she said, wondering if this day was going to be as long as it felt.

  “Have I got news for you.”

  “I hate it when people tell me that. Don’t tell me that.”

  Maggie pulled a chair up to Gerry’s desk, and settled her briefcase on the floor.

  “Guess what.”

  “I don’t like guessing. Just tell me.”

  “Elise is back.”

  “What are you talking about? Your sister? What do you mean ‘back’?”

  “I mean, she’s here. In my apartment. Gerry, she came back!”

  “Maggie, that’s wonderful!” Gerry stood up and squeezed her by the arms. “But how? How is she—“

  “It’s a long story. She was trying to protect my parents by dropping out, I guess because some of the things she was involved in at the time. She thought it was for the best. Can you believe it?”

  Gerry shook his head slowly.

  “Sort of unusual, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “She had her reasons. But now she’s back and she wants to get back with the family and raise Nicole, and you know...integrate.”

  Maggie looked so happy, so beamingly, foolishly happy that Gerry could only sit and smile woodenly at her.

  “Man, that’s great, Maggie. Your parents must’ve flipped.”

  “I haven’t told them yet.”

  “You haven’t?”

  “Gerry, she looks like hell right now. She looks like a junkie, okay?”

  “Sure, Maggie. It’s just that, I don’t know, your parents thinking she’s still vanished off the face of the earth when she’s sitting in your apartment drinking Perrier and making tuna salad sandwiches...it just feels wrong to me.”

  “It’s just till the weekend. I’ll call ‘em on Friday and tell them the news and then Elise and I’ll both go over on Saturday. If I were to call them now, they’d be over at my place and, I don’t know, Elise can be sort of funny. I want things to go as well as they possibly can.”

  “Look, I’m sure you know what you’re doing. That’s great news that she’s back. Just terrific. How is she at answering phones? We need a new receptionist.” Gerry began shuffling through the papers on his desk.

  “Gerry, will you stop thinking of yourself for just five minutes? I’m not finished here. I also met the fam
ous Gerard last night.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “That’s how I got Elise. Gerard called and demanded five thousand dollars or else he’d cause trouble with Nicole—“

  “He called to blackmail you?” Gerry was incredulous.

  “Well, I guess he did blackmail me, because I got a hold of my Dad and he scraped up the money—“

  “You paid some scum-ball blackmail money?”

  “Gerry, he was going to cause a stink about Nicole. I brought her into the country illegally, you know.”

  “You did?” Gerry stared at Maggie as if seeing her for the first time.

  “I told you all this!”

  “You most certainly did not.”

  “Well, that confirms that you don’t listen to me. Do you want to hear about Gerard, or not?”

  “Speak.”

  “So, I handed over the money to him—“

  “When?”

  “Last night, Gerry. All this happened last night.”

  “Late last night?”

  “Latish, I guess, around midnight in the parking lot at Lenox Square.”

  “I cannot believe you were running around last night...I won’t even let Darla take the garbage out because of all the crime in this town and we live twenty miles away in Marietta!” He tossed a newspaper in her lap. “Read any headline! Read the funny pages! Nothing but murder and rape.”

  Maggie scanned the headline.

  “You make Darla take out the garbage?”

  The media director, Patti Stump, stuck her head in Gerry’s office doorway and smiled at him.

  “Are we meeting on Hi-Jinks, Gerry? I’ve got some time this morning.”

  Gerry ran a hand through his hair in exasperation.

  “Oh, God, I don’t know. I don’t really want to.”

  “But we need to.”

  “I know, I know. Okay, five minutes in the conference room. Maggie, you need to be a part of this too. That is, if you’re not busy committing any felonies between now and then.”

  “What is your problem, Gerry?”

  “My problem, Maggie, my problem is...” He looked at Patti, still hovering in the doorway and smiled easily at her. “Why don’t you go on ahead, Patti, and we’ll be right there.” She shrugged and left. “My problem is that I worry about you and you don’t have the sense God gave lettuce.”

  “Thank you for that vote of—“

  “And quit pissing around. Here I am worried sick about Darla and I have to worry about you too because you haven’t got brains enough to stay inside behind locked doors when the city’s crawling with maniacs and psychos. I swear, I feel like the whole world is squatting right on my shoulders, you know?”

  “Gerry, I’m sorry—“

  “Don’t be sorry. Be smarter. Please. I worry about everything, you know? I mean, give me a break, Maggie. I would greatly appreciate it.”

  “Okay, okay.” She stood up to leave. “Gerry, it’s not all that important you know.” She waved her hand to take in the office. “I mean, it’s not worth having a stroke over.”

  “Five minutes. The conference room. And...I am glad your sister’s back.”

  She sighed, picked up her briefcase and walked to his doorway. She turned to look at him but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. She thought about calling Darla later. Maybe Darla could give her a better idea of what was going on with him.

  She turned and walked down the corridor to her office and, pushing the door open with her hip, was startled to find Patti sitting at her desk.

  “Hello, this is a surprise.” Maggie forced a smile. She wanted to oust the woman from her swivel chair and spend her five-minute grace period getting a mug of coffee. That didn’t seem likely now.

  “Hey, Maggie, I wondered if you have a minute.”

  “The same as you,” Maggie dumped her briefcase on the desk. “Five of them.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. Well, I wondered if you might have some time to talk with me about a...situation I’ve got. Maybe you could give me some advice on how to handle it.”

  “Really?” Maggie thought the whole morning was beginning to feel very surreal. “Well, sure, what can I do for you, Patti?” She perched on the edge of her desk, hoping it was hint enough to the media director to relinquish Maggie’s chair but not feeling aggressive enough to come right out and ask her to move.

  “It’s a guy.” Patti blushed mildly and smiled.

  Maggie was surprised. It hadn’t occurred to her that Dr. Stump might have another a softer, less snide side to her.

  “He’s very special and I’m hoping he will become a more permanent fixture in my life.”

  Maggie should have guessed Stump wouldn’t have a normal affair of the heart. It already sounded less like a love affair and more like she was shopping for a towel rack.

  “That’s great, Patti. What seems to be the problem?”

  “How do I get him out of neutral gear? I mean, he seems content to keep things as they are. That is unacceptable to me.” She shrugged and smiled again. “I want more from him.”

  “Hmmmm.” Maggie shifted uncomfortably on the desk edge. “That’s hard, Patti. I’m not sure you can force someone’s hand, so to speak. How long have you known this guy?”

  “About six months. We’ve gotten pretty close.”

  “Do you, like, want to marry him? Is that what we’re talking about here?”

  “Marriage would be agreeable,” Patti said, smiling almost shyly. “Very agreeable.”

  “Well, in that case, I’d just tell him what you want.” Maggie hopped down from the desk corner and began to pick out the materials she would need for the meeting. “I mean, you have rights in this relationship too. Just say: ‘I’m hoping this leads to marriage. That’s what I’m looking for with you.’ And then see how he reacts.”

  Patti stood up slowly.

  “Right, well, thanks, Maggie,” she said coldly.

  “I mean, does that help?” Why did the woman always make her feel so tense?

  “What do you think, Maggie? A man who is acting reluctant to forward a stagnant relationship? I’m to torch the whole project by pushing him to the point where he has no alternative but to reject me? What sort of help do you think that qualifies as?”

  Maggie reddened and gathered up her notebook and schedules. Why did the cow ask her in the first place?

  “Well, look, I’m sorry you don’t like my advice. But that’s what I’d do,” she said defensively.

  “Sure you would, Maggie.” The smile had returned to Patti’s lips but it was not a nice one.

  2

  “I cannot believe you went out last night!”

  Maggie pushed her half-eaten lunch away from her on her desk.

  “I’ve already been through this, Brownie,” she said.

  “Not with me, you haven’t! I could throttle you, Maggie. Do you have any idea—“

  “Well, what about you!? Some help you’d have been if I had gotten mugged. I called you at eleven-thirty last night and you weren’t even home yet. On a Tuesday evening!”

  “I didn’t go home last night.”

  “Oh, really? All night?”

  “Goddamn it, Maggie—“

  “Oh, well, I’m sure it’s none of my business.”

  “Maggie, I’d like to strangle you! Will you just tell me what the hell happened last night?”

  “Well, if you’d calm down for a minute, I’d tell you.”

  “There was a murder committed yesterday! In your neighborhood. Are you totally insane? Should I talk to your father about the wisdom of letting you have responsibility for yourself? Are you not old enough to have your own apartment?”

  “I’m hanging up now.”

  “No, don’t! Just...look, just tell me what happened, okay?”

  “If you’ll shut up for five minutes, I will.”

  “I’ll shut up. Talk.”

  “Okay. Gerard Dubois called last night around ten o’clock—“

  “Oh my God...” />
  “...and said I had to come up with five thousand dollars immediately or he’d make trouble about Nicole. I couldn’t have him going to the police, Brownie!”

  “Are you crazy? He’s probably a convicted felon back in France! He’d no sooner go to the police over here than—“

  “Well, then he might call up my mother or something! He could harass us, Brownie. Do you want to hear my story or not?”

  “Go on.”

  “So I got the money from my Dad.”

  “Did you tell your fath—“

  “No, no, no, but I think he figured it out what I wanted the money for.”

  “Jesus! And he didn’t stop you?”

  “Well, maybe he’s just not as good a father as you’d be, Brownie.”

  “All right, all right, I’m sorry, go on.”

  “So I met Gerard at the parking lot over at Lenox Square...and don’t tell me the woman was murdered right across the road because I already read all about it, now what’s done is done. I gave him the money and he gave me Elise. That’s all.”

  “I see. How does Elise look?”

  “She looks fine, thanks for asking.”

  “Maggie, don’t be a pain in the ass. Forgive me for caring about you. I’d like to come over tonight, or will y’all be at Brymsley?”

  “No, we’re not going over until the weekend.” Maggie paused for a moment. “But you can come over tonight if you want.” What was there about competition that made a man seem just that much more interesting?

  “I’ll be there at eight.”

  “Make it nine, could you? I’m clothes-shopping for Elise after work. And we’ll have already eaten.”

  “Fine. Nine, then.”

  “Sorry about the squabble.”

  “Yeah, me too. Bye.”

  Maggie hung up the phone and stared at it. Something, besides the obvious, did not feel right about that phone conversation and she wasn’t sure exactly what.

  A layout of the ad she’d written yesterday lay on her desk where the art director, Pokey, had dropped it earlier. It was for a client who owned a plant nursery. Maggie noticed she must have dripped coffee on the edge of the presentation board. The colors blurred in a muddy version of the originals, displaying dark fronds of blue and aqua instead of green, pink terra-cotta pots and yellow blossoms. The colors mingled pleasantly, companionably, quite inoffensively, it seemed to Maggie, and she found herself wondering if the art director would even notice the change. Knowing the volatile Pokey, he would notice to the tune of a very dramatic coronary, probably in a reception room full of waiting clients.