“Hey, get with it, you wildcat woman! You’re worn out from your activities last night, and I’m jealous as a scalded cat, you sexy vixen.” Lizzie hugged Martha. “Okay, tomorrow night, it is, and I’ll get in touch in the morning about what to wear. Get some sleep now, okay?”
Martha saw her out, enjoying all over again the warm glow of their close friendship. “How good it is to feel this way, it’s been so long!” She noticed her body aching with the subtle discomforts gained from her passionate night with Bob. And again, a million pleasurable sensations filled her mind. Exotic feelings, something she hadn’t experienced for many long, lonely, years.
She sought her bed and collapsed into deep slumber. Over her, a dark shadow, a troubled one of her own making, loomed and threatened. She couldn’t wake up to dispel the dread sensation of doom that seemed to hover like a dark storm cloud. Twisting and turning, she awakened enough to hear herself moaning, “Oh, please, please, don’t touch me. I can’t bear it!”
***
In spite of her wild dreams, Martha slept well for a good part of the day and on into the night. She woke up feeling at loose ends. Bob hadn’t called and that fact kept her nervous and pacing about her home. She finally decided her encounter with him was merely some wild fluke, something that just happened, because for both of them, their emotions had run so high they had no other outlet for their tensions. She almost laughed. “Well, I hope it wasn’t that tawdry.”
She threw on some clothes and went out for a drive. “I’ve got to get out of the house before I go stir crazy. I can’t call him. I don’t know what he thinks or how he really feels about things. We discussed nothing, just tore at each other like a pair of wildcats.”
She laughed at that but kept an eye out for a tail. The old maroon sedan was gone. She’d made sure of that. “It could very well be another vehicle I haven’t spotted yet. I’m becoming completely paranoid, and it all stems from seeing that fiend, Sykes. I hope he suffers all the tortures he deserves. I’m sure I wasn’t the only child to suffer at his hands.” Justice comes in many forms, she realized at last, though it was terribly long delayed in Sykes case. Looking about, she realized she’d arrived at Jeannie’s.
“Lord, I must be driving on auto-pilot. These mind-boggling thoughts do terrible things to a person. I’ll be lucky to live through this maddening chapter of my life.” She went in to see how things were with the Moulton’s.
Jeannie met her at the door and took her into the den before she opened her mouth. “Mom, we’ve decided to move to the north side of Denver. Martin spends more time there with his company than here, so it’ll be a good move for us.” Imparting her news to Martha, Jeannie subdued her excitement at leaving the city where a terrible evil had happened to their family. “Will you be okay with it?”
“Yes, of course I will, but don’t be surprised if I make a move, myself.” Martha made her statement, partially for nearness to her family, but also for the fact of her criminality looming in her future as well. She’d already read that patients with Dissociative Identity Disorder, frequently did move to new locations after integration with their alternate personalities. They stated various reasons. Most declaring they didn’t want it known to the people in their lives that they’d had mental aberrations, and frequently because of criminal, or near criminal acts they’d committed. It allowed them a new beginning.
Martha readily understood that, but she had qualms about being away from the closeness she enjoyed with Lizzie. That would be the real hardship. And Bob. She didn’t know how to think about him anymore.
“Why are you so quiet?” Jeannie asked. “What are you thinking? You haven’t told me much recently—you haven’t, Mom.” She laid on the guilt. “At least let me in on how your treatment is going. What’s happening?” Jeannie implored with concern in her deep-blue eyes. “I need to know!”
Martha decided to tell her only enough to satisfy her for the moment. “Jeannie, I’ve had a real break-through. I’m in the process of integration as we speak. I can’t tell all of it, but last week, I saw the man who worked for my father during the time my alternate personality was created, a sick, dying man, no longer a threat. But it wrung me out to see that old devil lying there. Yet, seeing that evil man, Sykes, helped me face the things he’d done to me, not all of them so far, but enough to send me off into a panic.”
“I can’t fully integrate until I face everything, the doctor said. I even have conversations with Serena sometimes, but it’s weird, sort of like talking to myself. I’m not sure it’s real, but it has happened. Bob helped me make it through that shift, Jeannie.” Martha managed a laugh as she tried to help her daughter understand that she hadn’t been totally devastated by the unrealistic things occurring in her life.
“Good, Mom, then you’re working it out. When we have a new place and get this one on the market, we’ll drive up and see it, okay?” Jeannie’s interest had quickly turned to her own sphere of concern and Martha applauded it.
After spending time with Will, Martha drove home. Looking about for a police tail, she failed to see anyone, though if a tail had her in his sights, Martha felt certain they’d use one whose skill far outpaced the first one. If so, Martha never saw anything obvious, and felt certain she’d gained expertise in checking for police surveillance the past few days.
Reaching the security of her home, she called Lizzie. “Hey girl, come over so we can figure out what to wear tonight for our foray to The Paradisio.”
“On my way, lady.”
Martha hung up, measured out the coffee, and turned it on. Wonder why Bob hasn’t called,” she mused. “After the scorching night we spent in his bed, he can’t ignore me for long—unless Serena did him in.” She emitted an uncertain giggle, remembering particular events.
Lizzie bombed in with her usual upbeat attitude. “So what’s the right get-up for this fancy dive?” Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
Martha laughed. “If I recollect from my friend, it’s boots nearly up to here, and I’ve got a pair.” She held her hand to the bottom of her buttocks. “Way too much make-up, and a lot of stretchy, too tight, shiny, glittery, stuff on top—hooker clothes, basically.” She flung out her hands. “Go figure.”
“I don’t think I’d want to go that far.” Lizzie giggled with joy at this adventure, playing charades of sorts. “I have some spike heeled boots. How about a pair of tight jeans, and skinny top, maybe a glittery belt to set it all off?”
“Sounds about right. Now, if someone asks you to dance, remember, it could be him, or maybe her. ’It’s too hard to tell and be sure.” Martha let out a giggle as she said it, and a memory of her other self’s wild night at The Paradisio popped into her head, clear as daylight. She felt a flush creeping up her neck.
Lizzie ignored Martha’s discomfort. “I don’t plan to do any dancing. Just walking in that place will take more nerve than I usually have and that’s quite a bit. And, believe me, I’d never consider it if you weren’t going along with me.” She shivered with excitement. “Can we amble in quietly and take a secluded booth? They have some, don’t they?”
“They do, and you wouldn’t believe what goes on in those!” Martha turned serious. “Are you really sure about doing this, Lizzie? Your husband is rather well known. Wouldn’t he be upset if word got around?”
“He’s a pretty hip guy. I don’t think he would. I hadn’t planned to tell him about it, though I don’t usually keep secrets from him.” She frowned. “Maybe he’d think we’d be in danger. Would—will we be, Martha?”
“No, not really. It’s just a sleazy dive. Not one that a society maven like you would ever frequent, however. Or a respectable professional nurse either, for that matter.”
They settled to enjoy the rest of the afternoon, choosing, or rejecting, items of suggestive clothing to wear.
CHAPTER 30
About ten, dressed in the outfits they’d discussed previously, the two women ventured out. Lizzie, liter
ally poured into skinny jeans and slinky black low-necked top, drove her black and shiny new Porsche, while Martha, in a skirt that barely covered the essentials, wore her slutty boots, topped off by a raging red buccaneer style loose flowing blouse. She felt the absolute picture of sleaze.
The two laughing, fun-seeking women pulled into the parking lot of the infamous Paradisio and edged into the smoke-filled night club with mounting tenseness and trepidation. The music blared loudly, and dancers gyrated about the dance floor with the ever present strobe lights transforming then into comic, riveting figures.
“Liz, I feel like an absolute slut, dressed this way!”
Unable to take her eyes off the dancers, Lizzie had to be pulled into their booth. “I know for sure now, I’ve been here before this, and more than once,” Martha said into her ear. “This place looks and smells way too familiar.”
“What a dive it is to be sure, Martha. And what dancers! Ye Gods, this is better than the movies.” Lizzie giggled. “And by the way, dear, you are dressed rather appropriately.”
A waiter-waitress moved up to take their order.
Later, sipping their drinks, Lizzie asked, “What was our waiter?”
“Who knows, could be anything or anybody in this place.”
After about an hour of smoke, noise and intently watching the dancers, Martha saw Jake come in and take a seat at the bar. She nudged Lizzie. “Oh, Lordy, there’s that guy from work, the biggest mouth around. It’ll get out, I was in here. But why do I get the feeling he’s seen me in here before, but not dressed the same? Not only that, but seeing him in here makes me nervous. He’ll blab it all over the hospital if he spots us.”
Lizzie was too absorbed in the scene and didn’t answer. Martha slid back further into the shadows of the booth, trying to remember, and hoping Jake hadn’t spotted her. He did appear to search for someone. His gaze traveled over the entire scene frequently as he sipped a pale golden beer. The icy suds dripped down the sides of the frosty glass as well as from the corners of his mouth. It was just after 11:30 p.m. He wore his work uniform so she knew he’d come off an evening shift.
Moments later, a big, tall, older man entered, accompanied by a motley clutch of low-life-appearing men resembling a scene from a mobster movie. Shivering as a sudden chill passed through her, Martha knew she’d seen that man before. Handsome in a heavy, sinister way, he exuded power in his walk and commanding manner. He wore an expensive, well cut, dark charcoal, almost black, silk suit. Pale blue eyes, startling in a man so darkly tanned, searched the place with furtive glances. An angry, scowl seemed permanently etched across his features. Before selecting a table for the group, he moved about, cruising through the crowd and looking into booths as he passed.
“See that big man, Lizzie. I know him! I know him somehow.” Martha pressed her body as far back into the booth as possible. “I don’t know why, but he’s looking for me!”
Lizzie’s face had gone white “He’s one fascinating dude, Martha, but God, he looks dangerous! What makes you think he’s hunting for you? What have you done, now?”
“Well, I’m not completely sure, but I ran into him in here before, and it didn’t go well, to say the least.”
Memories of the man crowded into her consciousness. Involuntarily, she shrank back, put her elbows on the table, and held her arms up to conceal her face as the man passed their booth. When she inhaled his cologne, the scent of it sank into her consciousness and she remembered him fully.
He stopped, looked intently past Martha’s arms and fully into her face. “Haven’t I seen you in here before, lady?”
Martha shook her head and shrugged slightly in answer to his query. “I don’t believe so. I’ve never been here before tonight.”
Inwardly, the blood in her veins had turned cold. She knew him. His forcefulness, his deadly temper, and that she’d rammed her knee into the man’s groin and left him in a crumpled heap, lying on the dance floor.
She knew her life lay in mortal danger if he recognized her. Waiting, outwardly calm, she hoped and prayed he’d pass them by.
“Well, you look damned familiar to me. Who are you?” His voice commanded, his gaze intensified, as he faced her.
“I’m Martha Lavery, and I’ve never seen you before, sir.” She held her tone even and clipped, hoping her terror didn’t show. Her clenched fists, hidden beneath the table, shook and trembled. She kept them out of sight, praying he wouldn’t notice how stricken she was.
Lizzie sat in frozen silence, her lips pale and tight. Her face wore the pallor of a ghost.
Scowling, he nevertheless appeared to be satisfied with her answer. “You remind me of someone I’d like to meet again. Pardon the intrusion, ma’am.”
He nodded and walked on. Martha watched to see if he left The Paradisio. He didn’t. She saw him join his men at one of the tables near the dance floor.
She remembered him, and the fine quality of his cologne, that seductive essence. What was it? Like that made any difference. This evil man wanted her dead for what she’d done to him.
Lizzie, seeing Martha’s ashen features, whispered, “Who was that? And what’s happening? He’s one scary dude. You know that man?”
“Lizzie, that man wants to kill me for what I did to him as Serena. He made her get up and dance when she didn’t want to, and she gave him the knee right on the dance floor. I, Serena, or whoever the hell I was, left him lying, there groaning like a baby, and escaped out the door. Ran out of here like a scalded cat. Didn’t know who he was, only that he was bad news. ”She hid her face in her trembling hands. “God help me.”
Lizzie looked frightened as she glanced furtively about the bustling establishment. “Martha, we’ve got to get out of here!”
“We can’t just cut and run, Lizzie. He’ll be watching. He may yet realize I’m the woman he’s after, and if he does, I’m dead. He’d as soon kill me as look at me if he believes I’m the one.” Martha looked at Lizzie. “Now, just sit tight and pretend we are relaxed and enjoying ourselves. Maybe that’ll throw him off. I don’t know what else we can do.” She forced a tight laugh and raised her glass.
Lizzie did the same. “Okay Martha, or is it Serena? We wanted excitement, but this much? What a night! Just tell me what to do. I’m beginning to think you’re definitely the right person to handle this mess. Who are you, really?”
“I don’t know who I am just now, but instinct is all we have to go on tonight.” She tried to laugh. “I still won’t dance with that man if he comes over and asks, and he might.” Her face burned yet felt like it was packed in ice. She sat up straight and squared her shoulders, a newly-found strength and determination had crept in.
Jake spotted them and sauntered over. “Maybe I should sit here with you two, for a spell. You seem to have attracted some unwelcome attention with Imperato over there.” He indicated the man with a slight nod, and added, “Martha, have you ever been in here before?”
“Why no, Jake, we just came out of curiosity. Come and join us for a while, if you like.” Martha hoped she’d played it cool. “Meet my friend, Lizzie. We just wanted to see what goes on in a sleazy dive like this.” She gave a tight laugh and moved farther back to make room for him. “Do you know that man who stopped here a minute ago?”
“Hi ya, Lizzie,” Jake stuck out his hand. “Yeah, that’s Charles Imperato, the guy who got it in the balls big time from some overdressed chick in here a while back. He’s madder’n hell and he’s been in here several times looking for her. I’d hate to be in her shoes if he ever gets hold of her. They say he’s a mean son-of-a-gun to deal with, especially for a woman.” His chest swelled with importance as he filled them in. “Likes to play rough with the ladies,”
“How scary,” Martha said. “What a horrible guy! I’d sure hate to be in that woman’s shoes.”
She relaxed a bit, even began to enjoy herself, and Lizzie loosened up as well. The music suddenly blared wildly again, and the dancers went at it full bore. The three of them sat in
fascination, watching the jerky, rhythmic, effects of the strobe lights on the tight, rhinestone studded clothing, skin-tight shiny pants, and loose flowing skimpy tops, adding flair to the snaky movements as they moved to the music. The flashing lights beneath the dance floor added an insane magic to the spectacle. The music was catchy, but Martha pretended she’d never heard it before. “Must be a genre I’ve never listened to.”
Lizzie laughed. “Wow, look at them go at it. It’s all worth it, just to see something like that. Makes the country club set look like sleep walkers.” She’d forgotten her fears and gotten into the wild, erotic, flow of The Paradisio.
Martha saw her body moving to the rhythm of the music and heard her laughing in joy. But Martha forgot nothing. When she heard the heavy sounds of men moving into the booth just next to them, her sense of alarm rose to astronomical heights. Their conversation was muffled, but as the odor of his special cologne wafted into her senses, her heart nearly stopped in her chest. She had to figure her next move. He’s right behind me! That monster’s not giving up and I’m right here in his sights! Serena, what have you done to me?
“So, Martha, when you working again?” Jake asked, not realizing her paralyzing terror. He finished his beer and signaled to the waiter for another round for all of them.
“Maybe I’ll take a couple shifts this weekend. I’ve been so busy these days it seems hard to find the time.” She tried to sound normal, hoping Jake saw nothing unusual in her behavior. “I need to work enough to keep my hand in—makes for good practice.”
“Worked any more psych, lately?”
“Not if I can help it. The last time was too much for me. We’ll see that poor woman again though, married to her wonderful, Jimmy. Can you believe it? She couldn’t wait to get home to him!” She shuddered, thinking of Jean M.’s severe injuries. “I’ll never understand that, never!”
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