“Hello?”
“Daddy, it’s me.”
Kelly smiled at the audible sigh of relief from her father.
“Oh, Bunny. Are you okay?”
Being the daddy’s girl that she was, Kelly dissolved into tears at Harry calling her by his childhood nickname for her. She gripped the metal cord of the phone so hard, it pinched her finger, drawing a sliver of blood.
“Oh, Daddy, I’m just so tired.”
“Where are you? Bunny, you need to turn yourself in.”
Kelly sniffed as her nose began to run. “I can’t, Daddy. Not yet. I’m really close to finding out what was going on with Mark. I…I just…I didn’t know if they were watching the house or tapping the phones, and…I just wanted you to know I’m okay and that I love you.” She chuckled. “I figured I would call you instead of Mom. This way at least only one of us is crying.”
“We’ve all been crying, baby.”
Kelly nodded as the tears fell faster. Taking a deep breath, she wiped her nose with the sleeve of her shirt.
“I have to go, Daddy, but I love you, and I promise this will be over soon.”
“We love you, too. And please. Be careful. The cops have made this personal.”
“Yeah, well, this whole thing has been personal. Okay, bye.” Kelly hung up the phone before she lost it completely. She stayed slumped against the wall next to the payphone for a few minutes before she straightened up and returned to the business at hand, namely Tim Landry.
She decided to make her way back toward the Quarter and find a place where they could meet. She pulled out her compact to swipe some powder over her face to cover the streaks of tears. She slid her sunglasses over her face and stepped out into the bright sunlight. Kelly began to walk, hoping a cab would come by. After about ten minutes, she saw one and hailed it.
As she was taken back to the Quarter, she again tried to prepare herself for what Tim Landry might tell her. She both feared and welcomed it. She’d asked the driver to drop her on Bourbon Street, and she began to walk, searching for something seedy, something with anonymity. After about an hour, she unearthed the dark little hovel she was looking for.
Kelly peered around the bar, searching for a table. An overhead fan twirled with lazy strokes above her, but it did nothing to chip away at the concrete wall of heat. She found a table tucked in the corner, far from the door, and decided it was perfect. She wanted a few minutes to herself before she called Tim. She ordered a glass of chardonnay and nursed it for the next hour and a half, lost in memories of Mark. Beautiful, beautiful Mark.
Though they’d been together for four years, they were just as hot for each other as they had been the night they met. She’d never done the one-night stand thing. Patric had been her first lover, Mark her second. The funny thing was, she’d felt no trepidation about taking Mark home with her that night. She knew she would spend the rest of her life with him, that he was the one. They’d spent the entire weekend in bed, and when Mark finally left on Monday morning, she slipped him a spare key; he was back that night. Her friends thought she was nuts, that she was headed for a fall. However, anyone who saw the two of them together knew there was no denying they had the real thing. It was more than that they were both beautiful and successful and ambitious. They just fit together, like they had been made for each other.
Kelly swallowed the last bit of wine in the glass and signaled for another. While the waitress got her a refill, she walked over to the payphone and dialed Tim Landry.
“This Tim.”
“I’m at a charming little establishment in the Quarter, with a woman in fishnets on the sign. Do you know it?”
“Of course.”
“If you’re not here in ten minutes, I’m leaving.”
“I’ll be there in seven.”
Kelly hung up the phone without a word and went back to her wine.
I Just Try To Forget…
True to his word, Tim appeared in front of her seven minutes later.
He was a handsome man, though not in a glossy, pretty way. He had a medium build, sandy brown hair, and soft blue eyes. He was flushed under his golden tan and slightly out of breath.
“Kelly.”
She gulped and waved to the seat across from her, indicating he should take it. He slid into the booth and stared at her.
“So. We finally meet. I just wish it wasn’t like this.”
Kelly sniffed and looked into her wine glass. “Think how I feel.”
It was Tim’s turn to look down. “Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “Yeah,” he repeated, his voice laced with sadness.
The waitress came over, and Tim ordered a Scotch on the rocks. He loosened his tie a bit while he waited for his drink. He and Kelly didn’t speak in those awkward moments before the waitress came back with his drink. He took a long swig before he spoke.
“Where should I start?”
“I’ve found the beginning is usually a good place.”
Tim took another guzzle of his Scotch before he hunched over the table. “You mind if I smoke?” he asked. “This one of the few places in town where you can still smoke.”
Kelly shook her head, getting impatient. “Fine. The beginning.”
Tim lit his cigarette, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth.
“Sometimes it’s hard to remember how this whole thing started. Or maybe I just try to forget.”
“Why don’t you try to remember?”
“Tell me what you already know.”
“I don’t know anything. I need you to fill in the blanks.”
Tim let out a deep sigh. “God, I wish Mark was here…” His voice trailed off as he remembered, and he burned red. Kelly looked away, her eyes shining with tears. She picked up a cocktail napkin and blew her nose.
For the next three hours, Kelly listened as Tim Landry told her all about Mark Monroe and Geneva Jenkins. At times, she cried. Sometimes, she cringed, and sometimes she smiled at the fond memories evoked by Tim’s words. At times, she fired questions at Tim like a machine gun and other times remained silent as stone.
When Tim finally leaned back, finished with his story, the ashtray was overflowing with cigarette butts and the waitress had run through more than half a bottle of Scotch just on him. Tears streamed down Kelly’s face.
“Why didn’t you say something as soon as you heard about Mark?” she sobbed as she grabbed another cocktail napkin to blow her nose.
He pulled a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and pushed it toward Kelly. He withdrew a handkerchief from another pocket and gave that to her as well.
“I’ve been out in L.A. since last Thursday taking depositions. My wife called and told me about Mark. I got back into town this morning, and I booked the trip today. I figured the police in Chicago would want to hear what I know.”
Kelly looked down at the paper Tim had put in front of her as she dabbed her nose with the white linen handkerchief. It was an itinerary for a trip from New Orleans to Chicago, leaving at six p.m. that night.
“Obviously, I’ll need to reschedule.” He paused and swirled the swallow of watery Scotch in the bottom his glass.
Kelly snorted and shook her head. “Guess so.”
“Truth be told, when my wife said Mark’s wife was wanted for questioning in his death, I thought it was Geneva.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head, still digesting his story.
“Yeah, well, considering what you just told me, I can understand why.”
Tim blew out his smoke before he stubbed out his cigarette. “If you don’t mind me askin’, what happened that day?”
Kelly rubbed her hands over her face before she looked up and recounted the whole story to him. She leaned back and ran her finger up and down the stem of her wineglass before she drained her wine.
“Now it all makes sense.” She bowed her head. “Well, some of it anyway.”
He looked at her and gave her a small smile. “You look a little different than your pictures.”
<
br /> She laughed in spite of herself. “I probably look like complete shit now since I’ve been crying so much.” She paused. “Let’s just say when you’re on the run from the law, being a former model who knows a little something about makeup comes in handy.”
He gave a soft, wry chuckle then grew quiet. “What now?”
She shook her head and let a deep sigh rumble from her lips. “Go back to Chicago. Turn myself in. Spend the rest of my life in jail. You?”
“Well, I’m going to reschedule my flight and…after that, I guess wait and see.”
Kelly nodded sadly. “Yeah.” She looked at her watch. It was late, and she was exhausted.
“Well, it’s time for me to disappear. Will you give me a good night’s sleep?”
“Kelly, you don’t have to worry. As far as anyone knows…we never met.”
She nodded and smiled before she folded up the damp handkerchief and slid it across the table to Tim.
“You know? You’re alright. I can see why Mark trusted you.”
“He’d a done the same for me.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“Be careful.”
She stood up and smiled. “Goodbye, Tim.”
“Good luck, Mrs. Monroe.”
Kelly looked at him for a moment. “Thank you,” she said before she gave his hand a brief squeeze and rushed out of the bar, disappearing into the madness of Bourbon Street.
•
Tim stared down into his glass, now sweaty and filled with watery Scotch. He wanted to order another, but he should head home.
And yet, he couldn't. He felt better, sitting here in this seedy bar thinking about his friend. How much he would miss him. How tragic it all was.
He felt a tear slide down his cheek. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and signaled the waitress for another, ignoring the flood.
What Tim Told Kelly…
“Man, I will be damn glad when we’ve passed the bar. I feel like I’ve been run over by two trucks,” Mark said.
Tim took a final drag off his cigarette before he flung it to the ground. “You ain’t kidding, man. If I never see another yellow highlighter, it’ll be too soon.”
Mark laughed. “Amen, brother.”
It was Saturday night, and the two friends and roommates had spent the entire day holed up at the Tulane Law Library studying for the bar exam. They had a full day of studying ahead of them tomorrow, but the need to interact with people other than law students and things other than law books had pulled them out onto the streets of New Orleans for hot burgers and cold beer.
It was June, and the two men would be graduating in July, taking the bar shortly thereafter. They ducked into Cooter Brown’s, an establishment where many a Tulane student could be found quenching their thirsts. The pair each ordered a beer and chugged them while they waited for their burgers and fries.
Tim ignited another cigarette and leaned back. “So, you still thinkin’ you gonna leave?”
Mark swallowed his beer and nodded. “Yeah, man. Gotta go where the dough is.”
“How’s Sasha feel about that?”
Mark rolled his eyes. “Man, I don’t know, and I don’t care. I can’t take her or her moods anymore. I told her last night I thought it was for the best we break it off, and she didn’t take it so good. Don’t be surprised if she’s calling the house day and night.”
“Damn—you waited all day to tell me this? Hell, the next two rounds are on me. Ding Dong the witch is dead!”
“You know…I wish she could’ve been more like Diane,” Mark said. “You lucked out with her, because she is cool as shit.”
Tim blew out his smoke. “Don’t get no ideas.”
“Come on, you know what I mean. She’s really something.”
“You tellin’ me, man. Best damn thing that ever happened to me. Let that be a lesson, my friend. You find a girl you like but she doesn’t like you? Hang around until she takes pity on you.”
Mark laughed. “Yeah, she really couldn’t stand you when you first met. How’d you pull that off anyway?
Tim winked. “Charm, brother, all charm. I got the hangdog thang down. I let her know how much less pathetic I would be if she just gave me a chance. Did the trick.”
Mark laughed again. “And boy, did you hang around. Glad she finally took pity on you.”
“Me too.”
Mark gulped his beer. “I wish Sasha would have taken pity on me once in a while. Always tight about something. Anything. Everything. Six longest months of my life. And you know that was the first time I ever tried monogamy.”
“Yes, tales of your exploits are legendary around these parts.”
Mark chuckled. “Yeah, well, I guess I always figured when I met the right one, I would settle down. I think I was trying too hard with her.”
“Well, you know I never liked her. What’d you see in her anyway?”
“Oh, you know, man, she’s cute, we had an alright time together. But, like I said, she just wasn’t The One.”
“I can’t figure out what type of woman you’ll wind up with. She’d have to be a saint.”
Mark shot Tim the finger. “Fuck you, man.”
Tim let out a hearty laugh and signaled to the waitress for another round. “Seriously, man. I’ve seen the girls you’ve gone around with, and it’s like there’s nothin’ there. All style and no substance.”
Mark leaned back, looking at the TV. “Yeah, well, I just haven’t met her yet. But she’s out there.”
“I wish you all kinds of luck, my friend.”
Just then, their waitress set down plates of steaming burgers and fries and more beer. They dug in and began a spirited discussion about the football game playing on the bar TV, when Mark got a funny look on his face.
Tim caught it. “What’s wrong?”
Mark shook his head and looked down for a moment before he looked up again. “There’s this chick sitting at the bar who has been staring me down all night. She just licked her lips at me. It’s kind of creepin’ me out.”
“What, she got two heads or something?”
“Naw, it’s like…she’s undressing me with her eyes or something. It’s weird.”
“Well, is she cute at least?”
Mark snorted. “Man, if she was cute, I’d be sitting here getting excited, not freaking out. She probably weighs about three hundred pounds.”
Tim howled. “Holy shit. I know the brothers like a little meat, but that I know for sure ain’t your type.”
Mark shot Tim a knowing look as he finished his beer. He felt his bladder press against him. “I’ll be back. Bathroom.”
“Go with my blessin’.”
Mark slid out of his chair and started walking toward the bathroom. The woman who had been staring him down cut him off at the pass. The sickly sweet scent of her floral perfume sliced through the pungent smell of cigarette smoke in the bar, and he was revolted by the rolls of fat spilling through the electric blue tank dress glued to her vast frame. Her bright red lips curved in a wide smile as she cracked her gum.
“Hey, baby. How you doin’?”
Mark went to step around her. “Fine. Excuse me.”
“I was noticin’ you from across the way, and I was wonderin’ if you’d like to hook up tonight.” On that last part, she went to rub his arm, but Mark slapped it away.
“I’m not interested.” He pushed her away and proceeded to the bathroom. When he came back out, she was still standing there, a lascivious smile on her face.
“My name is Geneva. What’s yours?”
Mark let out a terse sigh. “Listen, I’ll say it again. I’m not interested. Now get lost.”
Geneva grabbed Mark by his shirt and pushed him against the wall. She leaned closer until he felt her hot, Juicy Fruit breath on his face.
“Baby, I just think you are so fine, and I just wanna spend a little time. What’s wrong with that?”
Mark felt an unfamiliar emotion ripple through him.
Fe
ar.
He reached up, gripped her baggy arms, and pushed them down.
“Beat it,” he said again before he walked away.
Mark pushed open the door of the men’s restroom, slid the latch to lock it, and leaned back, his heart pounding. He’d never had a woman brazenly approach him that way, and he was scared at how strong she was. Mark unzipped his pants to use the bathroom, but he was trembling so badly, he couldn’t. Suddenly, he wanted to go home.
Tim was engrossed in the football game playing on TV when Mark got back to the table.
“Man, you must have had to take the biggest dump,” Tim laughed until he saw the distressed look on Mark’s face. “Hey, I was just messing around. What’s wrong?”
Mark pulled some money out of his wallet and flung it on the table. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
Tim stubbed out his cigarette, concerned. “What’s up? Tell me what happened.”
Mark looked over his shoulder and saw Geneva giving him the same lusty stare, a broad smile on her face. He shuddered, unnerved by the way that woman had accosted him. He began to walk out of the bar, and Tim ran to keep up.
“Hey, slow down! What’s got your panties all in a bunch?”
“Man, that woman, she…she had her hands all over me, said wanted to hook up with me.”
Tim laughed, and then, when he saw Mark didn’t find it funny, he stopped.
“You’re serious. Really?”
Mark shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want to talk about it. I gotta lotta studying tomorrow, and I just want to go to sleep.”
“Alright,” Tim replied. “We’ll just forget the whole thing.”
The two friends continued walking home in silence, unaware the woman was following close behind.
The Woman From Last Night…
Sweet Little Lies Page 17