Mazy humming in the shower woke Crockett up. He was in water that had cooled to the point of feeling frigid. He grinched out of the tub, hopped to the bathroom door, and slipped into a complimentary terry robe, just barely avoiding hypothermia. Mazy’s indistinct frosted form moved behind the shower door and the slightly out of tune strains of some country song wafted meekly through the room. He suspected she sang louder when she was alone. Grinning, he hopped to the bed to put on his leg. He’d grab a quick shower later. Right now, the bathroom was girl country.
Crockett slipped on his overshirt, phoned the front desk to have a taxi waiting, lit a Sherman, and kicked back on the couch. He’d barely settled in when Mazy walked out of the bedroom. She was wearing a pleated camel skirt that ended just above her knees with a bone wrap-around blouse under a short chocolate jacket, chocolate flats, and no hose. There was something almost little girl about both her wardrobe and her attitude. She bit a lightly penciled lip and looked at him from delicately made up eyes.
“Am I, I mean, is this okay?”
Crockett smiled. “Oh my,” he said. “That’s just perfect.”
“Is it really? I wanted to look, ah, this is our first date and all and I just wanted to have everything as, uh…oh hell.”
Crockett got to his feet. “Shut up.”
“Okay.”
“Relax, Mazy. You have nothing to prove to me or anybody else.” He kissed her gently on the lips. “We’re here, it’s now. Let’s go eat.”
They were a little early for their seven o’clock reservation, but were seated in the bar immediately. Mazy was stunned that the staff called both of them by name. Crockett noticed that the booth they had was the same one he’d last been in with Rachael, but put it away rather easily watching Mazy receive the best service she’d ever had in a restaurant. The first thing he did was order Martinis. Three olives, up and dirty.
“I’ve never had a Martini,” Mazy said.
“Kerosene with drunk olives. You’ll love it.”
She glanced around the room. “Do these people know you?”
“Nope. They just act like they do. It’s part of the service. Medium rare okay for your steak?”
“Uh-huh,” she replied, sinking a little lower in the booth.
When the waiter stopped by the table to shake and serve the martinis, Mazy watched him with big eyes. Crockett lifted his glass and turned to her.
“To now,” he said.
Mazy touched her glass to his, took a sip, made a face, then took another sip.
“Well?” Crockett asked.
“I could like this, I think.”
“Good. Eat an olive and drink some more. I want the whole thing gone in three minutes.”
“That’s awful fast, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but you need the booze. It’ll help you relax and enjoy things. You’re wrapped tighter than a tick. We’ll have wine with the meal.”
“Wine, too?”
“Sure.”
Mazy munched an olive and took a deep pull of the martini. “I could get used to this,” she said. “Can’t I ask an impolite question?”
“You bet.”
“How much do these cost?”
“The martinis?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know. Nine or ten bucks each.”
“Ten dollars?”
“Yep.”
“For this little thing?”
“Why do you ask?”
Mazy slugged down the rest of her drink chewed thoughtfully on the olive for a moment.
“’Cause I think I want another one.”
Crockett grinned. “You think so, huh?”
“If it works like the first one, I do. I like it.”
He ordered her second martini when he ordered the meal. The drink and the shrimp cocktail arrived together. Mazy sucked down half the martini in one gulp.
“Those shrimps are huge,” she said. “Are they for both of us?”
“Yeah,” Crockett chuckled. “I just got one order. Thought we’d split it.”
Mazy swept a shrimp through the sauce and took most of the whole thing in one bite.
“Ga!” she said. “Thas wunnafoo.”
So was the steak, the potatoes, the asparagus, and the Crème Brule. Mazy wasn’t big on the wine, but two more martinis seemed to fill the bill rather well. Crockett had a ball. She was relaxed, lit, funny, and cute as hell. They finished a little before nine, thanked their server, asked for a cab, and headed for the entrance. There at the front desk stood Cletus Marshal and Ruby LaCost. They had their backs to Crockett and, for an instant, he considered sliding on by and out the door. Instead he led Mazy to a position just behind them.
“Well,” he said. “What a pleasant surprise. Hello you two.”
Clete actually winced and paused for a beat. Ruby spun like she’d heard a rattlesnake. Suffering from a certain amount of shock, neither of them spoke. Crockett, on the other hand, plunged ahead.
“Clete,” he said. “I had no idea you were in Kansas City. And Ruby, long time no see. How are you, dear? Oh! Excuse me. I’m so glad to see you I’m forgetting my manners.” He put his arm across Mazy’s back and went on. “Ruby and Clete, may I present my friend, Mazy Watkins. Mazy, this is Doctor Ruby LaCost and Cletus Marshal.”
“Nice to meecha, m’am,” Clete stammered, extending his hand and then withdrawing it when Mazy didn’t respond.
Ruby extended herself to her full magnificently dressed and coiffed height and looked down at Mazy. “Always nice to meet one of Crockett’s friends,” she said.
Crockett felt like he had his arm around a pissed off fox terrier.
Mazy bristled. “My pleasure. David has told me so much about both of you, I feel as if I’ve known you for years. I’m especially pleased to meet you, Ruby.”
“Really.”
“You bet.” Mazy let her gaze slowly wander from Ruby’s feet to her face, which towered above the smaller woman by nearly a foot. Mazy looked up at Ruby and smiled. “After getting to know David as I have,” she said, “and learning about you, I was certain that you didn’t deserve him and I had no doubt that you were a fool. I just didn’t realize how big of a fool. My. You really are large.” She turned to Crockett. “Well, I think I’m done here. Shall we go?”
“Now would be good,” Crockett said. He shot Clete and Ruby a grin and followed Mazy out the door. She bounced her way to the cab. Crockett held the door as she climbed inside.
“Man! Did I nail that big bitch or what?”
“Yes, you did,” Crockett agreed, taking his seat.
“I came, I saw, I kicked ass!”
“David and Goliath.”
Mazy stared out the window for a moment. “God, Crockett, she’s really beautiful.”
“Yep.”
“And tall.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And she was dressed so nice. Like something out of a catalogue.”
“Ruby dresses well.”
“Did I fuck up?”
“What?”
“Should I have kept my mouth shut?”
“It’s your mouth. You can do what you want with it.”
“Jesus. Look at her and then look at me. I can’t compete with that. Hell, nobody can compete with that! Did you see her?”
“Mazy?”
“What?”
“Shut the hell up. This is not a contest. I’m not making any comparisons and you shouldn’t either.”
“You’re not?”
“No.”
“Not even a little?”
“Not even a little.”
Mazy snuggled into his side. “You’re okay,” she said.
Before Crockett could think of anything witty to say, the martinis caught up with her and Mazy began to softly snore.
Crockett woke her up enough to get her to their suite, then slipped her into bed and went to sit in the living room for a while. He pulled a chair next to the window, shut off the lights, and stared down at the traffi
c moving around Barney Allis Plaza.
Mazy was right.
Ruby did look good.
Crockett was up and dressed by seven the next morning, the luxury of room service knocking at his door. He ordered scrambled eggs with toast and bacon for himself, plus some fruit and pastries for Mazy, having no idea when she’d get up. Even the coffee was good. He was on his third cup and second Sherman when she staggered out of the bedroom, wrapped in a sheet and squinting in the light from the open drapes. Her hair erupted in random directions and she had blanket scars crisscrossing her face. She peered at him through bloodshot eyes.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Crockett said. “You look like hell. Sit. I’ll get you some coffee.”
Mazy chewed her tongue, made a face, and didn’t reply. Crockett poured the coffee, added cream, produced a croissant and some blueberry jam, a cinnamon roll, and a scone.
“Complex carbs, cutie. Get your heart started. God, you’re gorgeous.”
Mazy managed the strength to flip him the bird and fall into a chair. Crockett moved the tray table to her side. She took a sip of coffee and held her head in her hands.
“Did I meet Ruby last night?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I was hoping it was a dream.”
“You met Clete, too.”
“Aaaargh.”
“And then you slept or passed out.”
“How much did I drink?”
“You had four martinis and a glass of wine in about two hours. For somebody with your body mass, that is a shitload.”
“And I was nasty to Ruby.”
Crockett grinned as he buttered her a scone. “Mazy, you shredded Ruby.”
“Oh, God.”
“She never stood a chance. With Ruby, that is a hell of an accomplishment.”
A small smile flickered across Mazy’s face. “Oh yeah?”
Crockett grinned. “You chopped her off at the knees.”
“Even if I did,” Mazy said, “she’d still be taller than me.”
It was nearly two before Mazy dumped her headache and they left the hotel. Crockett stopped for a late lunch at Tim’s Pizza on 40 Highway before they picked up his almost new, very low mileage, what a deal, Ram pickup truck, and headed back to the lake. Mazy sipped at the can of Coke she got at Carmax and looked out the window.
“Sorry about last night,” she said.
“Sorry? For what?”
“I got loaded, made a fool of myself, was rude to people, then passed out on you. It was not exactly the evening I had planned.”
“Oh? What type of evening did you have planned? Be very specific. I love cheap thrills.”
Mazy smiled. “So what are you going to do about Ruby?”
The question caught Crockett a little off guard. “I don’t know.”
“That’s an honest answer. I wouldn’t have expected anything else from you.”
“A lot of women make it tough to be honest,” Crockett said. “You don’t.”
“Thanks. You gotta go home sometime, you know. You can’t spend the rest of your life driving around in that bus towing your new truck. Sooner or later you’re gonna have to straighten this thing out between the two of you.”
Crockett sighed. “Yeah. I know. I hate this shit.”
“That’s because you have a certain amount of wiggle room right now.”
“Huh?”
“You can treat your relationship with Ruby any way you want to. You can pretend you believe that everything will eventually work out, you’ll be together and in love, so all you have to do is wait for her to come to her senses. You can assume that she doesn’t want to see you again and you’re footloose and fancy free without the pain of an actual breakup. Or you can go with any combination of the two. Not a bad place to be except it’s all just bullshit.”
“You’re not big enough to be so smart.”
“Small packages, Crockett.”
“So your point is…”
“My point is that you don’t have to concern yourself with my feelings or reaction to any of this. It’s not my problem.”
“You dumping me?”
“Oh, no. As a matter of fact, I’m going to bed early tonight and you’re coming with me. Plus you’re welcome to hang around as long as you like, or leave tomorrow and never come back. You’re a great guy and a good man, Crockett, and I am in this until it’s over. But you need to understand that I am who I am, and I am where I am, and those two things are not going to change. If you’re looking for pressure or an excuse, you won’t get either one from me.”
“Damn. In your way, you are a hard woman, Mazy.”
“Naw. I just hate game playing. That’s one of the reasons I like you so much. When you spread bullshit, it’s just for fun. You don’t play games.”
“So do I have to settle all this today?”
Mazy smiled. “What? And maybe ruin a perfectly good relationship? I’m way too selfish for that. Ruby who?”
Mazy fixed a light dinner while Crocket, Stitch, and Zeb did some male bonding around Crockett’s new truck. After dinner Crockett went through the whole Zanzibar story again so Zeb could get details the Stitch had missed.
“Didn’t see hide nor hair a nobody while you two wuz gone,” he said.
“Maybe it’s all over,” Mazy offered.
Stitch grinned. “Think I’ll, like, go on guard duty out on the dock for a couple a hours.”
Zeb stood up and retrieved a pint of Jack Daniels from a cabinet. “If’n yer gonna go on guard duty,” he said, “I speck you’ll need some sightin’ oil.”
“Couldn’t hurt.”
“And,” Zeb went on, “guard duty can git awful lonesome. Guess I oughta go with ya.”
“Couldn’t hurt,” Stitch said again, heading for the door.
Crockett and Mazy watched them exit into the growing dark, Maggie trailing behind.
“Well,” Mazy said, “Dishes and bed for me. How ‘bout you?”
Crockett kissed her on the back of the neck. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said.
Shortly after dawn, Mazy arose. Crockett awoke dimly when she left the bed. By the time she went into the kitchen he was awake enough to put on his leg and some sweats. He heard her start coffee and open a can of dog food as he banded his hair into a pony tail. He was opening toothpaste when he heard Mazy scream.
Crockett found her on all fours just inside the open door, vomiting on the floor. He looked outside. There, sitting in a pool of black blood on the second step in front of the door, milky eyes staring sightlessly at nothing, pale tongue bitten nearly through and protruding from the side of her mouth, was Maggie’s head.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Crockett walked out of Mazy’s bedroom to find Stitch and Zeb sitting at the snack bar waiting for him.
“How is she?” Zeb asked.
“Asleep,” Crockett replied. “I gave her two of your pain pills and a shot of Jack. She’s whacked out.” He sat heavily at the bar and Stitch slid a full coffee cup in front of him.
“Good,” Zeb said, adjusting his position to compensate for sore ribs. “Scared the hell out of her. Thing like that could give her nightmares for years.”
Stitch looked at Crockett and his brow furrowed. “Found Maggie’s body at the edge of the lake behind the boat dealer’s place. Everything is bagged up. I’ll bury her as soon as Zeb tells me where. You okay, man?”
Crockett tried for a drink of coffee and failed. His hands were shaking. “Evil sonofabitch,” he said. “Dirty, evil, sonofabitch. Dirty, evil, Mario Puzo lovin’, Godfather wannabee, sonofabitch! Who the fuck does he think he is, fuckin’ Don Corleone? What kind of sick, twisted, individual does something like that? What kind of egomaniacal, soulless, unfeeling, self-involved piece of shit could do something like that?”
“Some asshole without a conscience who thinks life’s a movie,” Stitch said.
Crockett was staring at the countertop, clenching his fists to counteract the shaking. “Johnny w
ants a movie,” he snarled, “I’ll make him a fucking star.”
“Hey, Man…”
“That dirty coward. That goddammed dirty coward!”
Stitch didn’t like what he saw in Crockett’s eyes. “Take it easy, dude.”
Crockett stood up and the shaking stopped. He looked around the kitchen for a moment, as if seeing it for the first time, then turned and went into his room. Stitch glanced at Zeb and shook his head. Crockett was out of the bedroom in seconds, snapping closed the cylinder on his Smith and Wesson 686. Stitch intercepted him before Crockett could get to the door.
“Wait a minute, man.”
“Get out of the way, Stitch.”
“Can’t do it, dude. You ain’t got your shit all in one spot.”
“Get out of the way, Stitch.”
Stitch held his ground. “C’mon, man! Your head ain’t on straight! Settle the fuck down, will ya?”
Crockett seemed to swell. “Move,” he growled. “Right now.”
“Whacha gonna do, Crockett? Kick my ass?”
“It could happen.”
“Best fuckin’ door gunner I ever had,” Stitch said. “Put your ass in the weeds a couple a times, too, huh? Gotcha in and I gotcha out, man, ‘cause that’s my fuckin’ job. I ain’t lettin’ you go off without no fuckin’ cover. You ain’t getting’ onto no fuckin’ paddy dyke by yourself, Crockett. Nobody, especially you, is gonna stop me from doin’ my job, man. We need a mission plan, recon, and a fuckin’ ellzee. I don’t let my people rush out all riki-tik and get screwed over. Ask anybody.”
Stitch and Crockett locked eyes for a moment before Crockett’s hands began to tremble and his shoulders sagged.
“Air Cav,” he whispered.
Stitch grinned. “You call, we haul. God, I love the smell of napalm in the morning.”
“Oh, hell,” Crocket said, tossing his gun to the couch and heading back to the snack bar.
Stitch moved behind the counter and poured Crockett’s lukewarm coffee down the drain. “Ain’t your fault, man,” he said. “What happened ain’t your fault.”
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