No good deed mt-1

by Mary Mcdonald

  Mark waited to see if Gary would clue him in. A minute later, he stalked over to his manager and tapped his shoulder. “And? Ya got me curious.”

  Gary straightened and his face was a deep red. It could have been from leaning over, but his expression hinted at more than that. “I shouldn’t have said anything. What I see in photos developed here is private stuff.” He stopped and scratched the back of his head. “I’ve seen plenty, but I don’t talk about it. I mean, it’s like a lawyer/client relationship, right? It should never go beyond these walls.”

  Puzzled and irritated at the long-winded reply, Mark leaned back against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “What the hell are you yapping about?” It was probably the wrong tone of voice to aim at his boss, but the guy was rambling.

  Shoulders hunched, Gary evaded Mark’s look. “I saw those kinky pictures.”

  “Now you’ve completely lost me.” It had been a mistake to ask. He had enough to think about without having to add concern that his boss was losing his mind.

  Gary gave a covert glance around the shop as though expecting to see spies lurking in the corners. Mark didn’t know whether to be amused or angry. He braced for a sophomoric comment from the guy, and had a smart comeback ready to jump off the tip of his tongue.

  “The pictures where you were chained and had someone pour water on your face.”

  Mark sagged against the counter as if he’d been sucker punched. The shock changed back to anger. He straightened, grabbing Gary by the front of his shirt. “Who showed you those pictures? Where’d you get them?” He gave Gary a firm shake, but not as hard as he wanted. He ached to rattle the teeth right out of the guy’s head.

  Gary’s eyes became round, and he shoved away. “From that woman who was here earlier. She came in a couple of times, said it was police business. Even had some government guy with her.” He straightened his clothes. “Hey, Mark, I don’t care what you do on your own time. Just as long as everyone is willing and nobody gets hurt.”

  “You sonofbitch…” Mark raised his arm to grab Gary again, but when the guy flinched, it felt like bucket of ice water washed over him, dousing his anger. He wouldn’t become a crazy monster who made people fear him. He took a deep breath, easing it out and willed his muscles to relax. Instead of getting angry, he should find out who had shown Gary the pictures. As embarrassing as Gary’s presumption that it was a sexual thing, it was a good cover. “Look, I’m sorry.” He forced a smile. “I guess I got carried away.”

  Gary straightened his collar and said, “No problem. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

  “Not a big deal.” Mark sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Who was the government guy?” That part totally confused him.

  “The second time she came in with film, there was an uptight guy who flashed a badge at me and made me swear not to tell anyone about the photos. That it was a big secret.” Gary ducked his head. “That made it even…odder.”

  “Second time?”

  “Yeah. The first time, instead of water, it was when you were doing some kind of bondage thing.” Gary’s face turned brick red.

  “It wasn’t a bondage thing…I was just…bound. But not for reasons you’re thinking. Anyway, what was Jessie doing with the pictures?”

  Gary didn’t look at him, just shrugged and sorted newly processed photos. “You’d have to ask her.”

  ***

  Mark paused outside O’Leary’s as a wave of nausea hit him. It was just Jessie. He squared his shoulders and entered the dim interior. At least he’d picked a location where he felt comfortable. He and Bud had taken to watching ball games and shooting pool here a couple of times a week. Blinking as his eyes adjusted, it was a moment before he spotted Jessie sitting at a table towards the back. She hadn’t seen him yet, and he took the opportunity to drink in the sight of her.

  She wore her hair pulled back and twisted into some kind of clip that allowed a few strands to trail down and brush her shoulders. It was sophisticated, yet soft and inviting. At that moment, she turned and spotted him. Their eyes locked. His heart thundered like the hooves of a racehorse in the homestretch, and he couldn’t move until a waitress crossed between them, breaking the connection.

  “Hey.” It was all he could manage as he slipped onto the bench opposite her.

  “Hi, Mark.” She handed him a menu. “I waited to order. I didn’t know if you wanted to eat or just have a drink.”

  “Are you hungry?” Nerves had stolen his appetite, but he figured he should eat anyway. He studied the menu.

  “I don’t know if I’m hungry. I think I’m too keyed up to eat.” She chuckled and he looked up from the menu in surprise.

  “What’s got you all nervous?” He could think of lots of possibilities and none were good. Was she going to tell him that she was married? Had a steady boyfriend? Thought he was guilty?

  She spun a coaster in circles with her index finger and watched it as though fascinated. “I don’t know.” She shrugged and flashed an embarrassed smile at him. “I guess I don’t know what to say to you.”

  Mark understood what she meant, but understanding didn’t make it easier to respond. He crossed his arms on top of the table and leaned forward, and looked at the television screen over the bar. Should he ask her how she’d been the last year and a half?

  The silence between them stretched. Finally, afraid she’d leave, he cleared his throat. “Listen, I…I’ve never been good at small talk, and I’m out of practice. What do you say we just order a pizza? We can talk about that.”

  Biting her lip, she nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

  They decided on sausage and mushrooms and a pitcher of beer. Mark poured for both of them when the beer arrived. “I didn’t know you liked mushrooms.”

  She sipped hers, and a tiny bit of foam clung to her upper lip. When her tongue darted out to catch it, he shifted in his seat and tried to keep from staring and hoping for a repeat performance.

  “Yeah, I’m not picky. Mushrooms are good. I draw the line at green peppers though.”

  Feeling safe with the topic, Mark smiled. “Really? What do you have against peppers?” He took a sip of his beer. He’d never been a big drinker, but he’d missed having one now and again. Mostly, he’d missed the social aspect, being with friends and relaxing.

  Jessie made a face and shuddered. “Ugh. I can’t even stand the smell. It makes me want to puke.” She grinned at him. “Consider yourself warned.”

  “Noted. I’ll be sure never to eat green peppers before kissing-” He broke off when her eyes widened and met his. Heat flooded his face. “I’m sorry. I guess I was back in the past.” He couldn’t look at her as he lifted his beer and gulped.

  She turned in her seat. “I wonder when that pizza will get here? I’m starved.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  The TV screen was a blur as he stared at it. He hated this. He hated the awkwardness and the stilted conversation. He hated making her feel uncomfortable. Deciding he’d rather just rip off the bandage rather than tease it off bit by bit, Mark took a deep breath and plunged into the topic that was foremost in his mind. “I completely understand if you’ve moved on in your life, so you can tell me. I just have to know.” He searched her face, unable to read what she was thinking.

  She played with an earring, her eyes averted. He took her silence for an affirmative and tried to quell the pain that swept from his chest through his body down to the bones in his hands. He couldn’t blame her.

  “I just want you to know that I never had any involvement with terrorists.” Sitting back, he blew out a deep breath. There – it was out. A burden lifted. He rubbed his hands together, studying his fingers because he couldn’t look at her. “All this time, it killed me that you might think that I had something to do with it. I…I just wanted you to know. And for what it’s worth, the government finally figured it out too.”

  The waitress arrived bearing the pizza. She chirped on about how hot it was, to be caref
ul, and if there was anything more they needed to let her know. Mark might have thanked her, but he couldn’t have sworn to it. All he wanted to do was escape.

  Jessie sat with her hands clasped around her glass, her eyes on the pizza, but she made no move to take a slice. “I never really thought you had anything to do with it, Mark.” She tilted her head, running the fingers of one hand through her hair and gave him a tight smile.

  “You…you didn’t?” He wanted to believe her so badly, but he recalled when he’d seen her in the cell. Fear and doubt had been written all over her face. He’d never forget that. “What about in the cell? You said I should tell them what I know even after I said I didn’t know anything.”

  She shook her head. “I was confused. What was I supposed to think? You’d been taken away, had already been gone weeks. The newspapers were calling you a terrorist-”

  Mark sat back hard. “It was in the papers?” So, everyone in country probably thought he was a terrorist. He rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

  “Yeah, I guess I did. My dad mentioned something, but I didn’t think much about it at the time.” There had been too many other revelations that night at his parents’ kitchen table.

  “I hated myself for believing the papers. Then a CIA agent came and questioned me after you had been gone awhile. I don’t think I gave him the answers that he was looking for, but he made me think. I asked myself how could you possibly be guilty?” Her eyes never left his face and he held her gaze like a falling man clutched a lifeline. She tilted her head and twisted the earring again. “I remembered the pictures you’d shown me from your Afghanistan trip. Nobody who cared that much could hurt someone.”

  Mark’s throat convulsed and he swallowed to ease the tightness.

  “So, I tried to find out where you were, but I couldn’t. It was like you fell off the face of the earth. Even the newspapers didn’t cover it after awhile. Your release didn’t get even a small mention that I could see.” Her bitter tone at the last bit surprised him.

  He wiped his hands on his thighs. Another thought hit him. The pictures. “Is that where the pictures came from? The newspapers?”

  She gave a little shake of her head, her eyebrows knit in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  Throwing a quick glance over his shoulder, he leaned towards her. “Gary-my manager at the camera shop-told me that you had pictures of me in, um…” He shrugged, embarrassed. “Well, he said bondage, but I’m guessing they’re from when I was in the brig.”

  Mark hadn’t seen the pictures, but he could imagine them. He tried to stop his leg from jumping, but it rattled the table. Sitting back, he swiped the back of his arm across his forehead. How the hell could he be sweating when it was like a damn freezer in here?

  Jessie’s eyes hardened along with her tone. “Yeah. I do have pictures. It’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about, but Gary wasn’t supposed to say anything.” She finished off her beer and poured more.

  His body tensed as he waited for her to continue. Even his leg stilled.

  “I’m the only one with those pictures. They weren’t in the papers.”

  He closed his eyes, relief washing over him, but then he thought of another question. “But if they weren’t in the papers…?”

  “I happened to go by your old building on the day you were evicted.” She picked at the edge of the pizza, eyes downcast.

  He tried to ignore his embarrassment, and encouraged her. “And…?”

  “There were boxes of your belongings out on the front lawn. I took what I could, mostly photography equipment. I saved it for you at my apartment.”

  Mark straightened in surprise. “You have some of my stuff?” That was the best news he’d had since getting out.

  She nodded, and then shrugged. “I wish I could have saved more, but I fit as much as I could in my car, took it home, and when I came back, there wasn’t anything left.”

  Mark smiled. “No, that’s fine. Anything is better than nothing, which is what I thought I had.” He started to grab a slice of pizza, then stopped. “But that doesn’t explain the pictures.”

  “In one of the boxes was an old camera. I think it must have been overlooked or something. One day, I needed a camera to take pictures of my niece at a dance recital and I couldn’t find mine. Yours was sitting right there, and I was in a hurry.” She blushed. “I didn’t think you’d mind, so I borrowed it.”

  He eased back against the seat, holding his breath.

  “The pictures were fine, except for the last few. Those ones showed you chained.” Her eyes flicked to his before sliding away.

  Beer washed up in the back of his throat, and he stumbled out of the booth. “’scuse me.” He rushed for the bathroom, and made it just in time to for the beer to hit the toilet bowl. When he stopped heaving, he used some toilet paper to wipe his face. Shaking, he staggered to the sink and washed his hands, leaned on the counter until the trembling subsided. He couldn’t go back out there. Did she figure out what had happened? Is that why he’d had the dreams in the brig too? Mark grabbed some paper towels and wet them before running them over the back of his neck.

  After a few moments, he tossed the paper towels in the trash and returned to the booth. Jessie had taken a slice of pizza, but hadn’t bitten into it yet.

  She angled her head so that he couldn’t avoid looking at her. “Mark? You’re pale. Are you okay?”

  He nodded and grabbed some pizza and put it on his plate. “I’m fine. Guess I shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach.” He tried to smile, but it felt fake, and he was sure it didn’t fool her.

  “You only had one glass of beer.” She took a bite of the pizza.

  “Is it any good?” He ignored the remark and nodded towards the pizza.

  She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Yeah. Great.”

  He forced himself to take a bite. It was good, and he took another bite, washing it down with ice water. “So, how are you doing? Anything new going on with you?” Not only did he want to change the subject, he wanted small talk. He craved normal conversation.

  As if sensing his need, Jessie began talking about her niece, Chicago politics and sports. They finished off the pizza and he felt better. Braving a second glass of beer, he took a sip. He didn’t want the evening to end despite how hard it had been.

  Jessie pushed her plate away and folded her arms on the table. “So, now I’ve seen first hand the powers of your camera, which, by the way, I have right here.” She reached down to the floor and retrieved the camera, setting it on the table.

  Mark recoiled. “I don’t want it. Why the hell would you think I’d want it back?”

  Her eyes lit with excitement. “Yeah, it’s scary, but it’s also amazing. You, of all people, know how powerful this is. Now I know how you managed to get involved with all those crazy things.” She fiddled with the lens. “I never had any dreams though.”

  He cleared his throat and said in a low voice, “That’s because I did.”

  “You had the dreams?” Her eyes widened, and she said, “You dreamed what was in the pictures before it happened.”

  Speaking of it made the visions pop back into his head and he wasn’t sure what was a memory of the dream and what was the real thing. Not that it mattered. Both had been terrifying. He nodded, looking everywhere but at her.

  “Oh, Mark. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  He shrugged. “It’s over now. I just want to forget it.” He glanced over his shoulder.

  “You expecting someone?”

  “Huh?”

  Jessie pointed down the aisle. “You seem to be looking for someone.”

  “No. Just thought I heard someone call my name.” Mark tried to ignore the compulsion to check to see if anyone was listening.

  “Okay.” Her brow knit and she didn’t look convinced. “After seeing those pictures, I worried even more about you. Did you tell your lawyer what they did
to you? That they tortured you?”

  His leg twitched. “Listen, I was treated just fine. I wasn’t tortured.” A sheen of sweat coated his palms and he wiped them on his thighs. “Can we just stop talking about it?”

  Shock registered on her face. “I saw those pictures, Mark. Even Jim Sheridan didn’t deny it when he saw the photos.”

  “Jim Sheridan? How the hell do you know him?” This second shock threatened to send him rushing to the bathroom again.

  “He came to Chicago last summer and questioned me. I…I showed him the camera.” She bit her lip.

  “Shit.” So, for months, Jim had known and hadn’t revealed that information. No, instead he’d led at least a dozen more interrogations. The bastard.

  “I’m sorry. I was trying to help. I figured if I showed him, proved to him that you had been telling the truth all along, that they’d set you free.”

  Sincerity was written all over her face and he couldn’t be angry for her attempts on his behalf. “It’s okay.”

  “But I still think you should get a lawyer.” Her mouth set in a stubborn line.

  “No! I can’t talk about it. Don’t ya understand?” His breathing quickened and he fought the urge to flee the bar. “I don’t want to go back there.”

  Jessie cocked her head and reached across the table, taking one of his hands in hers. “Did they threaten you with that?”

  Mark kept his mouth closed, feeling muscles in his jaw jump. He didn’t answer but instead looked at their intertwined hands. Hers felt soft and warm and she rubbed one up his forearm. Clear nail polish coated the short neat nails. The contact felt wonderful, but, when he looked up, the pity in her eyes doused the feelings of warmth that had begun to stir.

  “Listen, Mark. They won’t lock you up again.”

  He pulled his hand free and crossed his arms. “You don’t know that. They did it once, they can do it again.”

  She shook her head. “They made a mistake.”

  “Maybe, but it was a helluva mistake and took them over a year to fix it.” Leaning forward, both hands braced on the table edge, he went on, in a low, harsh voice, “For all I know, this might all be some kind of trick. One of their sick twisted methods of control. I don’t even know who I can trust anymore.”