A Marked Man

by Stella Cameron

  What would her mother say? She would like Martin, how could she help it?

  The ring looked elegant on her long-fingered hand. She started to giggle, couldn’t help it. She and Martin were engaged to be married. They’d never as much as kissed. He treated her with so much respect, just like you’d expect a gentleman to do.

  They both faced the bayou but Martin pulled her close. “I don’t want to wait,” he said. “We don’t need to go through all the ritual. Talk to your mother and see how dates work out for her—we’ll do it together. Three weeks should be all we need to get ready.”

  Annie’s heart got tighter. Her life was going to change. She’d known it would, but not so soon.

  He stroked the side of her face. “Would you like to give up your job and go to school full-time? You know I travel. I want you to do whatever makes you happiest so you’ll be busy while I’m gone.”

  School full-time? Annie covered her face and let her hair fall forward.

  “Hey, hey, cher.” Martin rubbed her shoulders and neck and kept his fingers there beneath her hair. “You wouldn’t be cryin’, would you?”

  She shook her head. Tears ran down her cheeks but she laughed and hiccuped.

  “I have rushed you,” Martin said.

  “No, no, no. I’m so happy.”

  Annie looked into his face.

  He wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  She wanted him to kiss her and brought her mouth closer to his.

  Martin put a finger on her lips and touched his own to her brow. “I sure do want you, Annie.”

  He wanted her. A man like him who could have any woman he wanted. He must expect her to say something but she couldn’t think what. Please don’t let him get mad about her not saying anything.

  “Listen to this place,” he said, his voice gentle. “Some would think it silent, but everything’s talkin’.”

  Annie’s stomach quit hurting. “I like it here,” she said. Waving willow branches swished and cast shadows over Martin’s face. Small animals skittered in the brush, crickets clacked and she even heard faint creaking in the cypress trees and the sound of dry Spanish moss catching against peeling bark on the trunks.

  “It’s noisy,” she said, smiling at him.

  A pirogue swayed through the water, a man standing at the oar and two small children sitting one behind the other in the middle of the narrow wooden boat. The children screeched with laughter.

  “It’s hard to find a little peace that lasts,” Martin said, sounding annoyed. “Let’s go, it’s time for our picnic. I don’t like an orange sun. Looks like it’s bleeding to death.”

  The orange sun he spoke of lowered in the sky, sending fiery shafts through the trees and lightening the color of the water. Annie thought it beautiful. “We should eat,” she said. “I’ll help you bring the food from the car.”

  “It’s getting cold,” he said, although Annie hadn’t cooled off one bit. “We might eat in the car but that isn’t what I had in mind. Maybe we could go to your house and eat. We could wait for your mama. We need to talk.”

  “Mama won’t be back till late. She’s with her sister.”

  At first his silence worried her. He was working out how they would do things. Men didn’t like it if you messed with their plans.

  “You’re right,” she said. “It’s comfortable at my house and we could wait for Mama to come home.”

  She could see he liked the house. It was a single story, surrounded by trees, and Annie and her mama kept bright potted flowers along the gallery.

  “It’s nice out here,” Martin said. He parked his car facing the narrow lane leading from a rough road to the Duhon place. “Secluded. You and your mama made a good choice.”

  “My folks bought it. Dad died two years ago and left the place paid for so we get along fine.”

  Martin got out and came around to help her from the car. He ruffled her hair and said, “We’re going to need a house of our own—in New Orleans. Your mama won’t like that, but she’ll feel better when we tell her she can be with us whenever she pleases.”

  They climbed to the gallery and Annie let them into the house. “The kitchen’s at the back and the window’s so close to the trees we can pretend we’re picnicking after all,” she said. It felt funny to be in the house with Martin—alone. Not that she didn’t know she could trust him.

  “I want to tell you something,” he said suddenly. “I should have made sure you knew everything about me before I asked you to marry me.”

  He walked past her, straight to the kitchen and leaned against the sink with his arms crossed.

  “Don’t look so unhappy,” she said. “We all have things in our past we wish we could forget.”

  “You couldn’t have anythin’ bad in your background. You’re untouched. Annie, I was married before but my ex-wife wasn’t a good woman. I had to divorce her.”

  Of course he’d had a life before they met. So had she. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t had a good reason. I had a baby, Martin. When I was in high school. She died and I still feel sad about it.”

  “Thank you,” Martin said. “Thank you for believin’ in me enough to tell me that. We’re going to be so close, cher. Come here and let me hold you.”

  He met her in the middle of the kitchen and they clung together.

  “We’ve made a commitment,” he said.

  Annie whispered, “Yes. I never expected to have this much joy.”

  “This is just the beginnin’. Purging the soul takes time. Annie, I’m exhausted. I didn’t get much sleep last night and it’s been the kind of day that wrings you out. Maybe I should go. Your mother won’t appreciate a man who’s fallin’ asleep while he talks.”

  A panicky feeling shook Annie. “I don’t want you to leave me. Not now.”

  “And I don’t want to leave you—ever—but I need to be sensible.”

  “Take a nap till Mama gets home. She’ll be another couple of hours. Sleep here.”

  He shook his head. “That wouldn’t look good.”

  “Oh.” Her face felt hot. “Why, it’ll look just fine. You can sleep in my room and I’ll bake something for after dinner.”

  “You’re tempting me.”

  She smiled. “Good. Oh my, how long is it since you ate?”

  “I’m not hungry now but I will be later, in time for your baking.”

  “Come on, sleepy boy,” she said, leading the way to her room at the front of the house, across from the tiny sitting room. She opened the door and walked in ahead of him. “Don’t laugh at the frilly stuff. Mama likes it and I think she pretends I’m still her little girl.”

  Martin came behind her and put an arm around her neck. “It’s okay for her to think of you that way. Innocence is easy to love.” He kissed her ear, ran his tongue around the inside. “It’s so easy to love you. I shouldn’t ask, but would you lie with me? I need to feel your warmth.”

  She struggled to find her voice. “I shouldn’t.”

  “No, of course not. Forgive me. I’ll go now.”

  “You stretch out on that bed. I’ll hold you till you sleep.”

  Without warning, Martin picked her up and dropped her on the bed. He sat beside her, held her wrists above her head and kissed her. Annie could scarcely catch her breath. She’d never been kissed like that before. His tongue reached into her throat and flicked back and forth. When he raised his head his face had flushed, and his black eyes shone bright. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. “I bet you’re beautiful all over.”

  He excited her. Inside, she trembled.

  “Can I do the things I want to do? We are goin’ to be married.”

  Annie stared up at him and drew in a sharp breath when he sat astride her hips. He released her hands, slid the straps of her dress from her shoulders and pulled the bodice down to her waist. She didn’t wear a bra. Panic bubbled into her throat. She watched the top of his head, the glimmer on his dark hair when he licked her breast
s, bit her nipples. “This isn’t right,” she told him, not wanting him to stop.

  His response was to pull her arms free of the straps. Once more he took her hands over her head but this time he produced lengths of twine and tied first one, then the other wrist to the rails of the wrought iron bed. Her finger stung when he wrenched off the ruby ring.

  Annie screamed.

  She tried to fight him, she struggled, but his body pressed down on her and she was no match for his strength.

  “I want to stop,” she said clearly. “Please let me go, now.” Be firm, she’d been told. Don’t do anything you don’t feel comfortable about.

  “That’s not what you said to the boy who fucked you in high school. Or to the men who paid your rent and kept you in drugs in New Orleans for years.”

  She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. Why would he behave like this? Why would he put a ring on her finger and talk of marriage, then do this? How did he know about her shameful past after the baby died? Annie started to cry.

  “Shut up.” He pushed her skirt up to her waist and tore off her panties.

  “Don’t,” Annie said. “I’m not a bad person, not anymore. If you think I am, why did you want me?”

  He laughed. “When you went down in the woods today, you shouldn’t have gone alone,” he sang. “Those people in the pirogue spoiled everything. No one comes up that inlet. I should know, I’ve studied it. Everything would have been perfect. You were going to drown and no one would ever figure out how. This is so much messier.” He pinched her belly hard and laughed when she cried out. Pitching his voice higher, he said, “Mama won’t be back till late.”

  Annie shook so badly her teeth clattered together. “I’m not sure when she’s coming home. I knew there was time for you to nap and feel better is all.”

  “You’re terrified,” he said. “I like to see a woman terrified. I like her to struggle and wish she’d never met me. Women like you wouldn’t get punished without men like me. A woman like you made me HIV positive.”

  The panic roared out of control. Annie screamed again, and Martin slammed a hand over her mouth before he ripped her bodice apart and crammed fabric into her mouth. She gagged. He caught hold of her hair and turned her head to one side. “Oh, no,” he said. “No choking to death till I’m ready, tramp. Once a tramp, always a tramp.”

  Blood pummeled her eardrums. The orange sun had died and shadows filled the room, turned it black and white in her eyes.

  She felt him tie one of her feet to the bed and kicked at him. He finished and grabbed her flailing ankle. With her legs splayed wide apart, he secured the second foot and immediately stuffed her cotton panties between her thighs.

  “There,” he said, still at last. “You lie there and think about the things you hookers do to decent men.”

  From his pants pocket he took an old lighter. He eased it apart and dripped stinging fluid between her legs. With the lighter back together, he flicked a flame to life.

  Annie’s eyes filmed over. When she wailed her pain, the cloth in her mouth moved deeper into her throat. She smelled burning hair, felt scorching skin.

  From somewhere close she heard her mama call, “Annie, whose car is that outside? Who is with you? I’ve brought someone you used to know. He’s been lookin’ for you. You’re gonna be surprised.”

  Martin turned toward the door, his features stretched wide, tight. He started in that direction, then returned to wrench the twine from her wrists. “Lyin’ bitch,” he muttered. “Filthy, lyin’ whore.”

  Annie struggled to sit up, beating at the already dying lighter fluid flames.

  And a man shouted, “Something’s burning. In that room. Call the fire truck.”

  Mama had come home early. She and a stranger would come in here.

  The fire was out but Annie hurt so badly she gulped to breathe. The air tasted oily.

  Staring about, his eyes wide and glassy, Martin spun around and rushed the other way, banged into the foot of the bed as he went.

  He ripped back the lacy curtains.

  Martin couldn’t get the windows open.

  Silence lasted so long Annie felt tears sting her eyes. He hated what she’d told him, especially the parts he’d known nothing about, the worst parts.

  “And it was Bobby your mother met somewhere and brought home?”

  “Yes. It turned out he was back from college and wanted to take up where we left off.”

  Max stood up and stared across the bayou. Why had she thought he might accept what she told him and tell her it didn’t matter?

  “Did you start seeing Bobby again?” he asked.

  “No. I couldn’t have forgotten how he left me alone when I was pregnant. Not that I had any right to be choosy.”

  He faced her. “You have a right to be choosy, you always did.” Sitting beside her again he hugged her until her ribs hurt. “Bastards, both of them. Martin—”

  “He’s in jail. It turned out I wasn’t the first woman he’d attacked. I was just the first he’d…mutilated.”

  “You are not mutilated, dammit. You haven’t seen mutilated. You belong to me, got that?” Giving another crushing embrace he pressed his cheek to hers. “If I set eyes on Bobby Colbert again, I’ll kill him.”

  “He didn’t do what—”

  “What he did was just as bad. Worse. He destroyed your confidence so the other freak could take advantage of you.”

  CHAPTER 35

  The ice cubes melted as the tea hit them. And the tea came out of the refrigerator.

  “Damn, it’s frustratin’,” Spike said, whipping off his Stetson and wiping his brow with a forearm. “Every turn I take goes nowhere.” He slapped the hat back on and took a glass of tea from the old picnic table out back of the rectory.

  The meeting planned for that morning had been postponed until later in the day, until after the autopsy on Lee. They were waiting for Reb and Marc to arrive. Max felt out of place in the gathering on Cyrus’s dried-up lawn. Cyrus, Madge, Guy and even Annie looked at home but he was an interloper. He couldn’t even fathom why he was so welcome given the amount of hostility he’d met from some people in Toussaint.

  And he couldn’t find Roche. That was what ate him up—his twin had gone missing and Max didn’t dare ask if anyone had seen him. Kelly knew he wasn’t around and worried the same as Max did, but Kelly wouldn’t be back in town until tomorrow.

  Annie wore a blue-and-white striped polo shirt, a blue cotton skirt that hit her just above the knee and white sneakers. She looked pretty and fresh—and sad.

  She took two glasses of tea and brought him one. “Is everything coming to a dead end?” she asked.

  “You sure that’s the term you want?” he said and grimaced. “Sorry. We’re all getting punchy. Some cases do fade away without solutions but I can’t believe this will. If there’s a link between the things that have happened here, I wish someone would figure it out.”

  “That’s the million dollar question,” Guy said. “The mystical link.”

  As usual, big, black Daisy rested beside Guy, her head on his foot. Madge’s Millie made running attacks, landed on Daisy’s head repeatedly and got no more response than the flick of an ear or a loud snort. Annie was reminded of a horse swatting at flies with its tail.

  “It’s too hot,” Madge said and got a laugh out of the group. “Yeah, I know, that’s obvious and it’s almost always too hot around here. But when you’re hot and worried, it’s worse.”

  “Sure is,” Cyrus said. He did the unusual and removed his shirt, hung it on a pigtail belonging to a kid member of the bronze statue on the lawn. They called it the Fuglies.

  Annie sized Cyrus up frankly, surprising herself. He was no soft man, not one teeny bit soft at all. And he had spent enough time working outside in the yard he loved—without the shirt evidently—to be both tanned and muscular.

  She tried not to, but glanced at Madge anyway.

  Madge rolled a glass of iced tea back and forth on her forehead�
�and cast Cyrus sidelong looks.

  “We’re marking time,” Max announced. “All this standing around is getting under my skin.”

  Spike strolled in his direction and Max steeled himself to be told he wasn’t needed here.

  “Any ideas about a link?” Spike said. “You were with Reb at the autopsy. Anything at all?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Spike jutted his head forward. “You don’t know?”

  “Science isn’t always perfect,” Max told him. He dropped his voice. “I don’t feel right talking about it when Reb is in charge. I haven’t done an autopsy in longer than I want to remember. I was along for the ride today.” And because Reb had wanted his opinion on the neck wound they had found.

  “But you might have seen something interesting, or suspicious.”

  Max filled up his cheeks with air and kept his eyes firmly on Spike’s.

  “Okay,” Spike said. “I get it and I even understand. Damn, I wish Reb would come.”

  “Hard day for her. And Marc. They feel responsible for Lee.”

  “Responsible,” Spike said. “She was too old—”

  “Yeah.” Max cut him off. “Since we’re talking about things people shouldn’t feel responsible for, you’ve got to know I’ve heard the stuff about Homer and Charlotte. Charlotte isn’t happy, but you know that.”

  Spike kicked up a small cloud of dust. “You mean I shouldn’t feel responsible for it, but you figure I do?”

  “I can tell when a group of people are suffering.”

  “Okay.” Spike put an arm around Max’s shoulders and led him on a slow downhill walk. “You asked. Nobody else has said a word because they don’t want to get caught up in a family feud. But you asked and I’m glad ’cause now I’m gonna let it all out.”

  “Sure,” Max said, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.

  “My father is a horse’s ass.”

  Max wiped away all expression and made sure he neither nodded nor shook his head.

  “My father listened to some gossip from someone in this town and fell right in the hole they dug for him. He’s making all our lives a misery, includin’ Vivian and this is not a good time for that to happen. In fact, if my father doesn’t make a move to put things right real soon, I’m going to run his…I’m gonna get real mad. I’ll flatten him if he doesn’t fix things. Charlotte’s miserable. Vivian’s miserable because Charlotte’s miserable and Wendy’s miserable because Charlotte and Vivian are miserable and because her grandpa, who is just about her favorite person, is a miserable son-of-a-gun.”