by Marnie Perry
Adela was exhausted and drained and dreadfully depressed and Angela was goading her. She felt the anger growing in her and she couldn’t help it she turned on Angela and said coldly, ‘no, no it doesn’t make it all right, but neither does it give you the right to judge me, or Sterling Hennessey either. You don’t know him; you don’t know what happened you don’t know anything about it. You’re judging him by what happened in the gazebo, when in fact you should be judging yourself, you acted inappropriately and he acted accordingly. So take a good look at yourself before slandering others, before turning on others.’
She turned to go leaving them opened mouthed, but couldn’t resist turning back and saying, ‘you know, Angela, gossip has a way of coming back and biting you in the arse.’
CHAPTER 27.
Adela had expected Angela to hurl abuse at her so was amazed when there was no response to her comments. Maybe she had been too shocked to think of a suitable comeback for which Adela was grateful, she did not want to get into a slanging match with the Carters, or anyone else right now.
She didn’t know why she had defended Sterling Hennessey to Angela, only this horror and abhorrence she had for gossip and rumour could explain it, that’s what she told herself anyway.
She entered the cabin to be met by a horrible smell of burning. She stood for a moment trying to figure out where it was coming from, then dashed to the kitchen and switched off the oven she had put on hours before. She did not have to look in the oven to know what the beef would look like now.
She leaned on the cooker not even noticing how hot it was, just staring blindly down at the saucepans full of the vegetables she had prepared earlier. She felt her throat tighten and her eyes began to sting. She blinked rapidly and to distract herself looked at her watch and realised it was now 9.30 a.m. She had been awake for more than a day, a day in which so much had happened, a day that had began with so much promise, a day which had ended in violence and horror and fear.
She pulled away from the cooker and went into the bathroom where she stripped off her blooded clothes, Dean’s blood, blood Hennessey had spilled. She pushed everything except the raincoat into an old shopping bag and threw it in a corner, later she would throw them away. She pulled off her beads and watch and turned on the shower at full pressure hoping the water would blast away the memories and the guilt as well as the blood. It didn’t of course.
She stayed under the water until it began to turn cool but even so she still felt dirty, she wondered if she would ever feel completely clean again.
Through the open shower curtain she could see her pyjamas lying on the chair, the same ones she had worn the night Hennessey had stayed. The night he had made love to her. The night he had taken her to a place she had hitherto never known existed, except in books. The night he had beaten two men and nearly choked another to death.
She knew now why he has not had sexual intercourse with her, he couldn’t bring himself to get that intimate with her, he had not found her attractive or sexy enough. She cringed when she thought what it must have cost him to touch her. And all he'd wanted was to con her out of her money, maybe even steal it.
She stared at the garments until they became a blur until everything became a blur and she sank down onto the tiled floor of the shower her mouth open as if trying to catch her breath. Then a sound so awful, so heart wrenching and so pitiful issued from her, it was like the cry of an animal in pain and she wept as if her heart would break, which she hoped it would, then she would never have to feel anything ever again, and right at this moment she would welcome that. She stayed crouched on the floor of the shower until the water ran cold but still she did not move.
Hennessey had ditched the car and picked up his alternative vehicle, his getaway car, which he had had hidden in a nearby parking lot. He wasn’t one of those men that cared about cars. No, a car was a car, something that took you where you wanted to go and that was that, especially if it didn’t belong to him. But he had to admit to a small twinge as he pushed it into the swamp and watched it disappear beneath the slime; it had been a nice ride, comfortable and stylish. Shame.
As he drove her last words to him kept ringing in his ears, “Sterling Hennessey, you coward.” He didn’t blame her for that, to her that was what he had acted like, a coward. Of course she didn’t know that he couldn’t afford to be questioned by that stupid hick town sheriff and his dumb deputies, or worse still, detectives. They would ask uncomfortable questions, and not just about Maxwell. They would have searched his room by now, not that they would find anything of interest, except his fingerprints, which would avail them nothing. So he had reverted to the fight or flight scenario, he had done the former and now it was time to do the latter, for now anyway.
He was now in Biloxi at the CC club sitting with a coffee in his hands and listening to Carson extol the virtues of Brazil and Switzerland. He was saying, ‘one is very hot the other cold of course, but both have no extradition treaty with the U.S, you’ll be safe in either country.’
Hennessey smiled, ‘as usual your ideas are sound, Carson, but I’m not leaving the country, nor even the state, not yet, I have still have a contract to fulfil.’
Carson almost fell from his leather upholstered, very comfortable chair. ‘What? You can’t mean you’re still going to see this thing through?’
‘Of course.’
‘But they’ll be looking for you, they’re probably even on their way here now. She’s bound to have told them about the incident with those three assholes the other night. I’ll cover for you of course, but it’s only a matter of time before they track you down, Sterling.’
Hennessey smiled again, ‘thanks, Carson I appreciate that, but she won’t tell.’
Carson looked incredulous, ‘and what makes you so sure?’
Hennessey shrugged, ‘I just am.’ He raised his right leg and put it over left thigh and sat back looking very relaxed and unconcerned. ‘I know how her mind works, she won’t want anyone to know about that, she’ll be too embarrassed.’
Carson said, ‘embarrassment will mean nothing once the cops get hold of her and bring on the heavy stuff, she won’t be able to hold out.’
‘She will, she’s tougher than she looks.’
‘But…
Hennessey cut him off no longer smiling, ‘look, Carson, I haven’t really come here to discuss this. I never meant to involve you any of it, the less you know the less you can tell the cops if they do come calling.’
Carson sighed heavily, ‘you know that guy you almost choked to death is awake. He hasn’t talked yet, obviously he don’t want anyone to know why he got his ass kicked. But that might change if enough pressure is put on him, then they’ll come looking for you.’
‘I’m not worried about the cops.’
‘It’s not the cops I’m worried about, Sterling. If he’s connected they won’t rest until you’re six feet under.’
‘You worry too much, Carson.’
‘If I don’t worry about you who will?’
Hennessey grinned, ‘it gives me a warm glow inside when you talk like that, old buddy.’
Carson gave him an exasperated look then he too grinned then said, ‘so what do you need, not money?’
‘No, nothing, I just…I just wanted to say goodbye is all. When this is over I won’t see you again, you understand?’
Carson looked down at his hands gripped tightly together on the top of his desk, then he looked up at Hennessey and said, ‘you don’t have to do this you know. Whoever is paying you the five mil is an asshole of the worst kind, a cocksucking low life, but that doesn’t mean you have to be one too.’
Instead of being angry Hennessey smiled a soft smile, ‘Carson, old buddy, I’ve been one of those for a long time, it’s too late to change now.’
‘No, it isn’t. Look, I’m not telling you to go to the nearest church and confess your sins. Or to go out there into the big bad world and make reparation for your crimes, I’m just saying you don’t have to keep
doing this, even without the five million bucks you have money. You told me the guy paid you a million up front, screw the asshole and take the money. You can go live in Scandinavia or Europe just like you always wanted, without the blood of an innocent woman on your hands.’
Hennessey stared at Carson for a long minute before saying, ‘and you don’t think those other men I killed were innocent?’
Carson’s voice was low as he answered, ‘I know two of them weren’t.’
Hennessey’s smile was soft, ‘you blame yourself don’t you.’
‘What? What do you mean?’
‘You think it’s because I did what I did to the bastards that hurt you that I got into this life don’t you. That it gave me a taste for it.’
Carson stood up abruptly and looked out of the window he stayed that way for a full minute. Hennessey watched him his face impassive until Carson turned to face him, ‘I can’t say I’m sorry you did what you did, Sterling if that’s what you mean.’
‘That's not what I mean. Okay, if it happened now, today, if those assholes came in here now and did that to your face, would you stop me from going after them, would you prevent me from getting revenge?’
Carson stared hard at him his hand going instinctively to the right side of his head where an ear should have been then sat down suddenly deflated before saying softly but emphatically, ‘no.’
Hennessey looked at him but before he could speak Carson said, ‘but that doesn’t mean I think what you’ve done since then is right, and I absolutely don’t think you’re doing the right thing with that woman.’
Carson wondered if he had gone too far because he saw a glint in Hennessey’s eyes that he knew only too well. Not that Carson was afraid of his friend, he knew he would never hurt him; they had been friends too long, been through too much together for that. He had always been honest with Hennessey, always told him what he thought of him and what he did. And now more than ever he had to at least try to talk him out of what he was about to do. Try to persuade him that even hired killers had to draw the line somewhere. And he knew that despite what his friend said about himself he did have some principles, some morals, he had never, up to now anyway, killed a woman.
Suddenly Hennessey smiled, ‘still trying to be my conscience, Carson? I thought you’d have given up on that by now.’
Carson didn’t return his friend’s smile and his expression was earnest and his words sincere as he said, ‘I’ve never given up on you, Sterling, and I never will.’
Hennessey’s smile faded as he regarded his oldest and closest friend, his only friend.
He said quietly, ‘it’s not about the money, Carson; it’s a matter of principle.’
Carson was aghast, ‘principle?’ I think you have the wrong idea about what principle actually means.’
Hennessey chuckled, ‘I don’t mean principle in the way you mean it, Carson. I mean I’ve taken on a job, agreed to a contract, and even though there’s nothing in writing nor was it even agreed with a handshake, I have to finish it. Principle.’
Carson stared at his friend as though he was quite mad then shrugged, ‘whatever.’
Hennessey laughed, ‘you sound like a petulant kid.’
Carson gave a huh of a laugh and Hennessey rose saying, ‘I should be going, I have things to sort out before…
‘Before you fulfil your contract and keep your principles intact?’
Hennessey just looked at his friend not angrily or resentfully but rather sadly.
He said softly, ‘take care of yourself, Carson.'
Carson stood and said, ‘I’ll miss you, buddy. Be happy, Sterling, if you can.’ He held out his hand and the two friends shook one last time before Hennessey turned to the door but once there looked back and said, ‘and FYI, Carson, what I did to those guys back in the day wasn’t the catalyst for what happened after, for what I became, it was always there.’
Carson didn’t know what to say to that so he said nothing and Hennessey walked out the door throwing over his shoulder, ‘oh, and try to keep the scumbags out of your club, huh?’
Carson laughed but there was no humour in it, just an infinite sadness and regret.
He stood perfectly still looking at the door for a long time.
A few minutes later Hennessey was in his truck on his way back to Gulfport; he had the perfect hideaway already in mind and was headed there. He would lay low for a while then he would finish what he had started a week ago. He had hated saying goodbye to Carson, although they saw one another only rarely the knowledge that he was always there to go to, to get drunk with, to confide in, was a comfort, particularly as he had no one else. Plus, Carson was the only person in the world who knew about him, and somehow that had always been a comfort too. But now although he would find someone to talk too, someone to get drunk with, he would never again have anyone to confide in, he was now completely alone in the world.
As he drove he thought about Adela Faraday, “The Target.” He couldn’t help but recall the look on her face when she had recoiled from him. Not that he hadn’t seen the same expression of shock and hate before on a woman’s face when he had killed their partner, or husband. Although she had been shocked and appalled, the hate had not been present only intense dislike and acute disappointment. But it was the hurt he’d seen there that had gotten to him, a deep profound hurt that had clouded her eyes.
He shook himself, well, no matter, in a short time that would be the least of her worries.
********
Adela opened her eyes and blinked against the bright sun which came through the window, she should have closed the curtains but she had been so sleepy and so drained from crying so much she had just flopped down on the sofa and gone straight to sleep. She couldn’t bring herself to lie on the bed where he had made love to her, where she had betrayed herself.
She reached for her watch on the coffee table but realised she had left it in the bathroom. Staggering slightly she got up and went into the bathroom. The first thing she saw was the bag of clothes she had put there and intended to throw away, she felt like throwing away every single thing she had ever worn while she had been with him, but that would be childish and silly. Silly. Her stomach clenched and her eyes burned when that word came to her. She would never say that word again without thinking about him, and how he had laughed when she had.
She pulled herself up sharply impatient with herself and her stupid reminiscences. She reached down and grabbed her watch from the floor, it was 2.30p.m. She had slept for only four hours and she was still very tired but worse than that she felt numb inside.
She looked for her phone and for a moment couldn’t recall where she had put it, then remembered it was still in the pocket of the raincoat Hennessey had given to her. She steeled herself and reached into the pocket found her phone and pressed the number for the hospital which she had programmed into her phone earlier that morning.
When her call was answered she asked about Dean Maxwell, the nurse who took the call asked if she was family she said she wasn’t, but she was the friend who had come with him in the ambulance when he had been brought into the hospital. The nurse said she would find out and to hold please.
Adela did, for almost ten minutes, but the voice that eventually came back to her was not the nurse but Sheriff Taylor who very abruptly told her that it was not a good idea for her to call here. She didn’t ask why although she wanted too, instead she asked almost pleadingly how Dean was. He hesitated as if considering whether to tell her anything then said, ‘he’s all right, still a little groggy and in some pain but they're taking care of that.’
Adela asked, ‘have they said when they’ll be doing the tests on his back?’
There was a pause then he said, ‘maybe tomorrow.’ When she said nothing he said, ‘satisfied?’
By his tone Adela knew he wasn’t asking whether she was satisfied with his answer but satisfied that she had gotten Dean into this mess in the first place. She answered simply, ‘yes, thank you, Sher
iff Taylor.’
The phone went dead.
She stood looking down at it for a moment as tears filled her eyes again but this time she straightened her shoulders and raised her head and didn’t give way to them.
She went to put the phone back on the table but paused the phone still in her hand and stared down at the raincoat. She picked up the coat, it had blood on it, Dean’s blood. She reached into the pocket and took out the card Detective Leyton had given to her and was about to fold up the coat and take it into the bathroom to put with the other things she would throw away when her eyes were drawn to a label sewn into the inside of the collar, it was too big to be a maker’s label and that’s why it had caught her eye. She looked more closely at it, it said simply, D. Blakemore. The words swam before her eyes; D. Blakemore who was that? And why did Sterling Hennessey have another man’s coat in his car.
She began to press a number on her phone then once again paused and stared down at the phone then the raincoat then quickly finished dialling. When her call was answered she said, ‘Detective Leyton? This is Adela Faraday; I have something you might find useful.’
*********
Hennessey meanwhile had reached his destination and hidden the truck out of sight of any poachers or hunters, although he had no fear of anyone passing and even if they did he had a good story with which to fob them off. But if on the off chance the story wasn’t good enough, or they turned out to be nosier than he would like, well, there was always his trusty Glock wasn’t there. But he had no real fear of anyone passing by, this place was off the beaten track and if you didn’t know about it, completely hidden from sight.
He unlocked the door of the cabin; he smiled at the incongruity of the word “cabin.”
It had once been a nice place once upon a time but now it was run down and dirty, nothing more than a ramshackle hut really, but it would suffice for his needs.
He flicked on the light switch, nothing, not to worry he had come prepared. He checked the faucet and was surprised when water came out only cold admittedly and that wasn’t really safe to drink, it was a good thing he’d planned ahead and brought supplies including bottled water.