“I wanted to go home, cher,” he said, his voice tight with a too familiar emotion. Aroused, Orville could be terrifying. He walked her into the back room and closed the door behind them. She heard him lock it. “Just in case Sandy decides she’s forgotten somethin’,” he said, pawing at her some more.
“Sandy has keys to all the doors,” Emma said. She felt afraid, more afraid than she ever had even when he hit her in the past. “I don’t want this, Orville. We need to be sensible, reasonable.”
Several of her buttons had popped open, and he undid the front fastener on her bra. “You’ve got great tits,” he said, staring at her breasts, pressing the nipples hard with his thumbs. “They were the first thing I noticed about you.” His laugh wasn’t pretty.
Her purse, and her little gun, were in a drawer in the dressing room. That she’d even thought about them shook her. “Get away from me,” she said, dodging out of his way, fumbling to do up the bra. “I’ve got something to suggest to you. Something good for both of us, but I can’t explain when you’re like this.”
“Roger’s right,” Orville said. “I put you on a pedestal and treated you like you were made of glass. You didn’t really want that. You needed a man to take control.”
She put a rack of clothes between them. “You’ve been in control from the moment we met. It was okay at the beginning, but it’s not anymore. Not for me.”
“Because you’ve changed?” He followed her slowly, and she retreated. “We’ll talk about Secrets afterwards.”
Afterwards?
“Women like you want to pretend they’re pure. They want to be forced. Rough sex excites them. Baby, your wish is my command.”
He could force her. “You haven’t come near me in months. You don’t want me anymore. I’ve seen a lawyer, Orville. I want a divorce.”
Instantly his face turned purplish red. He didn’t say a word, but he took hold of the rack of clothes and used it to trap her in a corner. Reaching across, he took her by the throat.
“You’ll make marks,” she said. Thinking was hard. “People will see what you did to me.”
“You fuckin’ slut. It’s that soldier boy, isn’t it? Your type always has to have a man to look after them. You wouldn’t be talkin’ divorce if you didn’t have another bed to go to.”
Quiet, quiet. Don’t rile him more than he is.
“Answer me.” He threw the rack aside and lunged at her, lifted her under the arms and threw her down on top of a table display. His hand clawed beneath her skirt to her panties.
Emma swivelled and kicked his midsection, hard, doubling him over, and threw herself off the opposite side of the table.
Orville clutched his gut and stared at her, his mouth hanging open, his eyes filled with loathing. “No divorce, y’hear me? I won’t divorce you, not ever. I’ve watched you get more full of yourself with every hour you spend in the company of those dried-up, disgruntled females you call friends. If they had sex in their lives, men who could keep ’em where they belong, they’d be at home, not encouragin’ weak-brains like you to disrespect their husbands.”
The horrible question that plagued Emma was how she could ever have thought Orville wonderful, how she could have fallen in love with and married him.
He started coming around the table toward her, and she made a retreating move for his every advance.
What was wrong with her that she had allowed him to carry her away? He’d talked her down, worn her down, until she’d believed he was all she wanted.
“Stand still,” he said. “You know you’ll never get away from me.”
“I will,” she said, as clearly and steadily as she could. “As of today, we don’t live together anymore. Listen to me, Orville. You stand still and listen to me. What matters most to you? Beating me down, or all the things you want to accomplish? What about your ambitions, Orville? This isn’t the big city. People don’t like it here when the people they’re supposed to look up to have sordid lives.”
“I swear,” he said slowly, “that you will regret ever tryin’ to mess with me.”
“I already do. I’m going to offer you a deal. For me, Orville, not you, but you’ll benefit. I don’t want this whole town to know the fool you’ve made of me. Give me what I want quietly, and you’ll get what you want, too.”
“I’ve got what I want, and I’m gettin’ a lot more. You’ll be at my side until and unless I decide to get rid of you. You understand?”
They continued to circle the table, Emma holding the edge with both hands to steady herself. Orville sweated. Sweat stained the collar of his blue shirt dark, and rings from beneath his arms all but reached his waist. He drew in shallow breaths and never took his eyes from her face.
“If you will agree to separate right now, without any more of this, I’ll stand by you in public, at least through the next few weeks. I’ll be your hostess, whatever you need, but I can’t keep on being your wife.”
He slammed a fist on the table, and swept scarves and trinkets onto the floor. “I want you. I want you at my side. I want you in my bed. I want between your legs whenever and wherever I please, you uppity bitch.”
Emma drove her fingertips into the table. Her legs shook so violently she feared she would trip. At the sound of her phone ringing in her purse, she panted, darted her attention toward the changing room.
“That’s probably lover boy,” Orville sneered. “No man gets what’s mine. I’ll see him dead first.”
Emma didn’t say anything, but the thought of Orville locked in combat with Finn brought her teeth together hard. Too bad her husband wasn’t the type of man to use his fists, except on a woman.
The phone stopped ringing, and Emma’s heart seemed to stop right with it.
“I loved you,” she told Orville. “I really did. I wish it hadn’t ended, but it did. It has—for both of us.”
“It wasn’t my fault you couldn’t give birth to a live child.” His saliva hit her face. “Any more than it was my fault you messed up your insides so bad gettin’ rid of the thing you never got pregnant again.”
Within her, Emma felt a cold, quiet space open up. Tears stood in her eyes, but even they felt cold, as if they had turned to ice. She couldn’t feel her hands and feet. Her lips tingled.
Again her phone rang.
This time Orville backed toward the noise, located her purse and threw it at her. She let it land on the table but didn’t touch it. For an instant she’d expected him to go for the phone himself and answer it. He could well have found the gun.
The phone kept on ringing.
“Answer the goddamn thing and watch what you say. We aren’t finished, sweetheart. You and I are never goin’ to be finished. The only question is how miserable your life’s gonna be from now on.”
You have no idea what I can do to you.
She pushed a hand into her purse, took out the phone and flipped it on. All the time she looked back at Orville. “Yes.”
“Emma?” Why did it have to be Finn?
“Yes.”
“Can we talk?”
“No.” She wanted to break off the call. Even as she needed to cry out for help, she knew she would not involve Finn Duhon in this sordid skirmish.
“Something’s wrong,” he said. “Speak to me. Tell me.”
“No.”
“Things have happened since last night. I need to discuss them with you.”
“No.”
Orville leered at her and nodded slowly, as if whatever she was doing pleased him. As if he approved of the way she was handling the call.
“Okay, you can’t talk to me. Can you tell me where you are?”
“No.”
She was lucky he kept his voice low.
“You’re with him?”
Emma didn’t answer.
“Okay, I understand. Just tell me this, are you safe?”
She wanted to close her eyes but didn’t dare. “Yes.” The pistol was only inches from her fingers.
“Last night wa
s the best night of my life.” Finn paused. “You’re an old-fashioned girl, and the guilt monster eats you up, but you’re the greatest. Believe it. The greatest woman I ever met, and I won’t give up on you, Emma, so get used to the idea. I’ll hold you every time you let me, and it’ll be enough. Almost enough. I’m a patient man.”
Emma blinked rapidly. Tears didn’t fall. Perhaps they had turned to ice.
“You need me, and I’m going to find you,” Finn said and hung up.
Emma slid her phone shut and dropped it back into her bag. She kept her hand inside and closed it over the gun—and saw Orville look at the bag, the way she had her hand, and frown. He swallowed.
“I want you to go away,” she said. “Walk out the door without looking back, then go somewhere and think about what I’ve offered you.”
“You’ve got a gun.”
She ignored the statement. “I don’t want my parents to know what you really are or what you’ve done to me. I want to live in this town in peace, and I’ll do what I have to, to make that happen.”
“You wouldn’t have the guts to pull the trigger,” he said.
She ignored him again. “We are going to pretend this is amicable. Understand? And then there will be a peaceful withdrawal and you’ll never bother me again.”
“You’ll be left with nothing,” he said through his teeth.
“I’ve got nothing now. Things can only get better, and I’ll make them on my own terms. Now get out.”
“I’ll spread rumors around Pointe Judah that’ll make you want to go as far and as fast as you can,” he said. “I can link you with Duhon, no sweat. You’ll never make a life here. Adulteresses and whores are all the same to people in this town. I won’t need your phoney help. I’ll run my campaign as a brokenhearted husband betrayed by a round-heeled wife. You’ll get me more votes this way than you would have simperin’ in photographs.”
Emma took the small, wooden-handled weapon from her purse. She didn’t point it at Orville, simply held it. Next she removed a copy of one of the photographs, the one of Orville with a woman’s head in his lap. Joe Gable had made it with his scanner and computer, and kept the original with the others. They were in his safe.
“I hate simperin’ photographs, don’t you?” she said to Orville. “What would you say you were doin’ in this one?” She turned it so he could see. “I don’t think you’re simperin’.”
20
Emma didn’t know how Orville got back to his offices, and she didn’t care. He had walked out the back door of the shop, his face rigid, his eyes darting toward and away from her. After she’d shown him the picture, he didn’t say another word.
She sat in the back room for twenty minutes, just giving herself time to calm down. After that, she brushed her hair and left it down, took a new turquoise shirt off one of the racks and changed into it. The turquoise looked good with her white skirt. She splashed water on her face, and applied new lipstick and mascara—and felt human again. Shaken, but human, and filled with hope that her life was going to change, not that it would be easy, at least for the near future, but different. That was good.
Hammering at the shop door reached her loud and clear. Emma considered ignoring whatever impatient shoppers might be there, but, as she knew better than ever, whatever money she could make and stash away before Orville kicked her out would be essential.
She walked into the shop and stopped when she saw Finn, his hands cupped around his eyes, peering through a window. He saw her and waved. It was too late to retreat, even if she wanted to.
She didn’t.
Running, Emma arrived at the door and let him in. He reached for her, but she stepped quickly back. “The windows,” she said. “Where’s your truck?” A more cautious woman would just send him away, but she was beyond some forms of caution—especially when it came to Finn Duhon.
He pointed. “I left it on the other side of the palms.”
“I want to be with you,” she said, in such a hurry she wondered if he would understand.
He did. “You have no idea how much I want to be with you, too. Were you here when I called?”
She filled her lungs and let the breath out slowly. “Yes, but I couldn’t talk.”
“Because Orville was here with you? You sounded frightened.”
“He was here.” If she hoped for a smooth exit from her marriage, giving Finn a reason to go after Orville wouldn’t be smart. “Nothing major, but I didn’t feel right having a conversation with you in front of him.”
Finn gave a wicked smile. “I’m glad you think I’m too important to chat with around your husband.”
Men had impossible egos. “Go to Ona’s. Out Back. It’s pretty quiet there. I’ll give you a head start and join you. Don’t park in the lots.”
Finn saluted. He gave the surrounding area a once-over and kissed her quickly. “Drive carefully.”
When Emma walked into Ona’s Out Back she didn’t immediately see him, and her heart performed a silly flip. Her sandals slapped against her heels as she walked. Then she saw him. He was at the table closest to the kitchen, out of sight of the restaurant door, but he had stood up and leaned around the corner to watch her approach. She wanted to rush to him, and that made her feel young and a bit foolish at the same time.
Finn saw the shine in her bright blue eyes from across the room. The lady was glad to see him, not that he had any reason to doubt it after seeing her at Oakdale. He wished there was no Orville and the two of them were free to just let this thing between them go wherever it might be headed. Where he hoped it was headed.
He smiled at her and pulled out a chair. “Note the sneaky positioning of this table,” he said. “If an enemy approaches, one of us can hot foot it through the kitchens to Out Front. Perfect, huh?”
“I expect they teach you things like that in Sneaky Ranger School.” Emma sat and watched him lower his loose-limbed body into his own chair. She liked looking at him too much. They ought to be careful, because she didn’t want to give Orville any definite ammunition, not that he was likely to be so cocky about that or anything else in the near future.
Orville had cooked his own goose to a crisp.
Annie Duhon appeared as if she’d been waiting just inside the kitchen for Emma to arrive. “Tea?” she said.
“Uh-huh. Exactly the way I had it last time. Do I smell beignets?”
Annie nodded, a big smile on her pretty face. “Finn said you both needed them for strength.”
When Annie returned to the kitchen, Emma raised her brows at Finn. “You are teachin’ me so much. I never knew beignets gave you strength, but I do love them.” She glanced toward the kitchen again.
“Don’t worry about Annie,” Finn said. “She knows we’re friends, but that’s all. Old school friends. And she wouldn’t say anythin’ to anyone.”
“Because you’ve warned her not to.”
Emma would never be fobbed off with facile explanations. “Somethin’ like that.”
“And you probably told Eileen, too—and Aaron.”
He couldn’t figure if she was annoyed. “We’re family. We stick together.”
She relaxed, and he breathed easier.
“Eileen’s comin’ to Secrets with me today. I’m going to pick her up early, so we can talk about what she can expect.”
“I’m glad. Does it mean you all tell your secrets, or is it really that other thing you said?”
“Secrets of a Successful Life is our full name,” she said, wanting to laugh. “We reinforce one another. And we share a few things we wouldn’t tell anyone else.”
“So you probably have rules about not repeating what you hear?” He sounded a bit disappointed.
Emma kept a straight face. “Absolutely. And if you don’t share somethin’ really awful, somethin’ you’d go to prison for if it got out, we don’t let you join. That’s how we make sure each member stays loyal.”
For a moment, Finn studied her, frowning. “Oh sure,” he said, and shook his
head.
“There aren’t many of us,” she told him.
“Quality, not quantity?” He raised a brow.
“Original,” Emma said. “Most of us met in the same beauty salon. We talked about getting together, but we needed a place. That’s when we got together with Angela. She’d rented the second house on John Sims’s property on Mill Lane several years back. Just around the corner from the salon.
“She went to the beauty shop sometimes—to buy products or use the steam room.” She didn’t tell him about the burns on Angela’s face that caused her to be shy in public. “One time Angela heard the owner, Lynnette, talking to me about not having any luck finding a place to meet. A couple of days later Mrs. Merryfield showed up to invite Lynnette and me to Angela’s. That’s how we got started, and we’ve been meetin’ there ever since.”
“Yeah?” Finn said, distracted. “Mrs. Merryfield?”
“She’s one of Lobelia Forestier’s buddies, and she looks after Angela. When we started Secrets, all a member needed was an invitation. We trusted our instincts that we would all be loyal.” She thought for a moment. “Everyone joins in and shares the things that bother them—and the happy stuff, of course. We just bonded. Women can be like that.”
He couldn’t put off talking about Rusty any longer. “After you left last night, Rusty turned up. He wanted to know if we’d taken anythin’ from Denise’s house.”
Emma screwed up her eyes. “Rusty heard us arrive. We were hardly there before Billy showed up. What chance did he think we had?”
“I don’t know.” He’d decided not to tell her anything about Rusty’s comments regarding Tom Duhon’s police records, or the badge. Hours of search in the attic of his parents’ house hadn’t turned up anything he wanted to find. Aaron would show up after school to spend the weekend, and Finn intended to ask him to start cleaning out up there. “Emma, after a bit, Billy showed at my place, too. He took Rusty in.”
She stared.
Annie brought the tea, but Emma never took her eyes off Finn’s. “Thanks, Annie,” she said vaguely. “Why would Billy do that to Rusty?”
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