by P J Gilbers
He grinned.
I kissed him and we kissed for a long time.
“Trust you?”I whispered.
“Trust me. Completely. I would never hurt you. Tomorrow night. Seven. Dinner. The beach.”
He took my hand.
“Where are we going?”
“To drive Jack crazy.”
He laughed.
George approached Martha McMorris with a smile.
"Good evening, I'm working with the Girls and Boys Club and we're asking for donations to put in a new basketball court."
He handed her an official looking flyer.
"Oh, that's wonderful."
He leaned heavily on the cane he'd just purchased from the thrift store.
"It's a great program. Ever since I got back from Afghanistan it's been my focus. Really a life saver for me..."
"My son was there. He won't talk about it... would you like to come in for some iced tea?"
George smiled.
"Thank you. That's so kind. My leg is hurting a bit..."
He put the bug in their phone while she was in the kitchen.
Easy. So fucking easy.
Sunday
I woke in Jack’s bedroom. And then I remembered that “my” room had been occupied with partiers when I went to bed. The room was huge, with deep brown carpeting, an old, weathered wooden gate hanging over the bed.
Above the fireplace was a drawing, a striking woman with a beckoning face, full breasts and long hair…and wings.
I stared at the signature. It was J Nolan.
“Jack’s an artist. ‘Didn’t know that.”
Jack was sleeping in the den. The red head was gone.
Silverman had just walked in.
“Do you have good news for me?”
He hesitated and then shook his head.
“We’re fairly certain he’s hanging around your apartment. In fact we almost caught him yesterday.”
“You want me to go back to the apartment.”
“Your good friend Roger has volunteered to go with you. You might have to hang out a while. We’d have the place staked out like crazy. But, there’s always risk.”
“No.” Jack was leaning against the wall.
I looked at Roger.
“You don’t have to do this. It’s a risk. He’s a big man. An evil man. More evil than you will ever meet again.”
“I know, Sam. I insisted. I volunteered. Marines are always first.” he whispered.
I walked into the house but Jack grabbed me.
“Don’t do this, baby. One stab. One shot. That’s all it will take.”
Silverman stood up.
“What she knows, Mr. Nolan, is that he won’t kill her quickly. He’ll take his time to kill her…but we won’t let him.”
Roger, Jack and Fritz were all downstairs waiting for me.
“Gloria and three more of our team are already over there.”
I nodded.
“You and I are a couple,” Roger told me. “I’m wired. Gloria will be close, the police will be there but undercover. We need to make a lot of noise. See what happens. You ready for this?”
“Yes.”
Roger walked out but Jack took my hand. He walked me into the dining room, sat on the table and pulled me to him.
“I have to go…they’re all waiting.”
He nodded.
“What’s your favorite dessert?”
“Chocolate chip mint ice cream.”
He played with the ruffle on my blouse, barely touching my breasts.
“That’s mine, too. Better come back real soon or I’ll eat it all.”
I patted his chest, kissed his nose, and grinned.
Roger and I drove Jack’s SUV. I felt small and cold.
We seemed to get there much too fast.
“Happy, happy,” he smiled. He was such a cute little soldier.
Roger walked around the car and hugged me, giving me a big kiss.
“Smile,” he whispered. “I hear we’re going on a picnic.”
“Picnic. Right. Just put some clothes…just a few…in a bag and pack a lunch. Then we’ll leave. And no thread in the door.”
“You knew about the thread in the door?”
“Absolutely. Good technique but you were a bit obvious with it.”
I opened the door. The apartment was hot so I turned on the small unit in the wall.
“In about an hour it’ll be a few degrees cooler.”
He laughed.
“I don’t care sweetie,” he slapped me on the ass, “as long as I’m here with you. Can’t wait to get to the beach.”
I gave him a boy-am-I-going-to-get-you look and nodded.
The frig was almost empty but I made sandwiches out of very old cheese and moldy bread.
“HideeHo neighbor.”
The short blonde man from last week came in carrying a heavy metal tray with cupcakes.
“Sandra, right? Julio made these last night—I cook and clean and he bakes. Aren’t they wonderful? He never gains an ounce. I like the pink ones.”
He had a shrill, annoying laugh.
“The blue and yellow are good, too. But I just can’t gain one more pound so I saw you and this gorgeous hunk of meat… You work fast, honey. Where’d you get him?”
The man brushed against Roger, saw his weapon, and smashed the tray of cupcakes in Roger’s face. He pulled an ice pick out of his pocket and stabbed Roger in the upper thigh. Roger screamed.
I jumped on the man’s back and squeezed his throat, pulling back as hard as I could. The man collapsed, choking and gasping. Before I knew what was happening Roger punched him in the side of the head. He dropped like a fat raindrop.
“Move in!” Roger screamed.
Gloria was there first followed quickly by Detective Silverman and two others. Silverman called for an ambulance.
I pressed on Roger’s thigh as blood pulsed out of his leg. He was getting more and more pale.
“He hit an artery,” I told Gloria.
“Yup.”
Gloria took off her belt and tied a tourniquet around his leg. The bleeding lessened but Roger was getting clammy. The paramedics arrived and rushed him away.
“You know who that was, don’t you?” I asked Silverman.
“Fairly certain. I think he’s Eddie Welsh, Robert Welsh’s little brother,” Silverman said.
I washed the blood off my arms and hands. My clothes were soaked.
Gloria drove back to Jack’s with Metallica blasting on the radio. When we got back Jack was sitting on the front porch with a scotch and a cigar.
“Gloria, Roger’s in surgery. Did you want to go..?”
Gloria turned around and walked back to the car.
“You look like something out of a horror movie.”
I sat down in a rocking chair next to him and downed his large scotch.
“I feel like getting absolutely blitzed.”
I put the cold glass on my forehead.
He laughed.
“Okay. I suggest you might want to get a shower first.”
“Aren’t you worried about Roger?”
“Worried? No. Thankful to him? Positively. Fritz is with him and will keep me posted. And I am very grateful you are back in one piece.”
“I’m going to get a shower.”
“Good. We need to talk.”
I knew this was going to be about David.
The liquor was hitting hard. I realized on my way up the long staircase that once again I hadn’t eaten.
The house was quiet. My blood soaked clothes stuck to me. I dropped them into the trash. The shower was hot and real. I sat on the floor and let the water run over me. I finally got dressed and went downstairs.
I went into the office before heading into the kitchen, pouring myself another scotch.
“Food smells wonderful.” I started eating shrimp wrapped in bacon.
“I’d watch how much you’re drinking. First day on the set tomorrow. They want us th
ere at seven. Bring a book. It gets very boring. Now, let’s discuss this evening.”
“David’s picking me up at seven.”
“No.”
“Why?” I nibbled on half of a grilled cheese sandwich.
“Not safe.”
“David said he was taking care of that.”
“He’s got some security people of his lined up. And Roger was supposed to go but obviously he’s a little tied up.”
“Jack, you just don’t want me to go.”
He glared at me.
“Sam,…”
“Thanks for the food but David will be here soon and I’m not ready.”
He stopped me at the stairs.
“You don’t know what you’re dealing with with David.”
“Oh?”
“The man can seduce a stone statue. He’s known for it.”
“Should be interesting then.”
“Awfully flip for…”
Now he’d crossed the line.
“For what, Jack?”
“Nothing.”
“For someone who gets her money…her room and board and her basic survival from you? I wasn’t clear on the strings attached to that. Now I guess I am.”
“Sam, that’s not what I meant.”
He took my hands and sat me on the step.
“I just…”
“You don’t want him to seduce me because you want that yourself.”
He paused. “You are extraordinarily direct, aren’t you? But, you’re probably right. Yes.”
“It’s complicated, Jack. When I can I’ll tell you about it. But not now.”
“Are you going to sleep with him?”
“Not tonight.”
Detective Hershall Silverman walked through the suicide scene. Jameson stared at him.
"Silverman."
"Jameson."
"Suicide."
"No, don't think so. Most suicides don't beat themselves up before they throw themselves out a window. Coroner called me."
Jameson stared. "Chief says it's a suicide then it is."
Silverman stared back. "I've been asked to look into it."
"Is that right?"
"Yeah by who?"
"Whom. The Mayor. And some other interested parties."
Jameson nodded.
"Well whoopeefuckingdoo. I'll let the Chief know."
"Great," Silverman said."'Loved chatting. Maybe we can meet for an expresso later. Ciao baby."
Jameson glared as Silverman giggled and walked away.
I turned and walked up the stairs.
At five before seven David arrived. Jack was sitting on the porch.
It was awkward, like walking with your shoes on backward.
“Five-thirty,” Jack announced.
“Five-thirty?”
“We leave. In the morning.”
“I’ll be back before then.”
David was driving a black Maserati. Behind him was a Jeep with three men in it.
He kissed me as he opened the car door for me. The evil came out in him and he winked at Jack.
“Little tension back there,” he said.
I nodded.
He patted my leg.
“He’ll be okay, Sam.”
“Roger was stabbed today.”
“I heard.”
“How?”
“Jack called. Told me you couldn’t go out and play tonight.”
“What did you tell him?”
“’Bite me’ I think was the phrase.”
He parked down a long, beach road in front of a Cape Cod house. The foyer was decorated in warm, dark woods, and incredible antiques. He showed me the dining room, complete with a T-rex bursting down from the ceiling. She wore red stiletto heels.
“They make her ass look great, don’t they?”
In his theater room he had rows and rows of seats and a huge screen. On the walls were movie posters, all from successful movies of recent years. I read two of them and then the light went on. David Abernathy, Producer, over and over.
“You’re not a big fish in a little pond. You’re a really big fish. In more than this pond.”
“I’ve had a good run.”
“Take me back.”
“Sam, what’s wrong?”
He took me by the hand and walked me outside on the deck. I could almost touch the ocean from where I stood. I sat on a swing and he handed me a glass of wine.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m just…nobody, David. All this. Wealth, fame, success…I don’t fit. Maybe I should just go back to St Louis. Do you know where I bought this dress?”
“’Don’t care.”
“I can’t do this.”
“All you have to do, sweet Sam, is have dinner with me. That’s it.”
I noticed a table with candles on a low deck by the beach. A man in a white coat waved to him.
“Dinner is ready.”
“It’s so beautiful.”
The man served us without saying a word and then disappeared. I remembered my hamburger and watermelon suppers.
We walked on the beach after dinner, holding hands. The waves were loud, trying to tell me something important. His security guys were following, watching.
“Where do we start?” Every cell in my body vibrated with fear.
He smiled.
“In the bedroom. I spoke with an acquaintance of mine. She’s a rape counselor. She’s given me some guidance. This is going to be difficult but we’re going to discover what you’re really afraid of. Or at least start to discover.”
He took me to his bedroom. The walls were dark blues and greens, with a fireplace and a Zen fountain on the wall.
“I love this room. So peaceful.”
He nodded.
I stared at him. The fear was trying to rip me apart.
“On the bed,” he whispered, not touching me. I pulled off my boots and climbed on the bed. He lay down next to me.
“Tell me about the night,” his voice was hushed, gentle, in charge. “It’s so very dark, you are tied…If you get scared you need to tell me. But I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”
I shut my eyes, sinking into terror. My chest hurt already.
“I woke up. Dark. I heard a sound in the hallway. Nylon rubbing. His coat. I heard it again.
“I stood up and screamed. This dark image ran into my bedroom and knocked me over onto the bed. It hurt.”
“You’re just remembering. You’re safe now.”
“He punched me in the face. Dragged me in the living room. Tied me. He had a knife. He cut my clothes off. I couldn’t believe this was real.
“He kissed me, biting me. I tried to kick him. He put the knife into my vagina and made the first cut. I felt insane.
“He spoke words I didn’t understand and put black cloths with black candles all around me. He talked to Satan and kept calling me his Lilith.
“He cut the first triangle. I screamed. He licked the blood, he hung over me, blood dripping from his face and mouth. I begged him to kill me.
“He fucked me. The cut hurt so bad. I passed out.
“I woke with more cuts and more cuts. He swirled the blood around, drawing on my face with it. Licking the knife.” I was sobbing now, pushing on David, twisting his shirt.
“He cut more. Put the knife in, twisted. I passed out.”
“You’re here with me, it’s just a memory, you’re safe.”
“I woke. He was on top of me…” my breathing was out of control. David held me closer.
“You’re just remembering Sam. You’re safe.”
“I woke up and he was on top of me... I tried to will myself to die. He weighed thousands of pounds. I couldn’t breathe. He kept going and going. I knew I was dying. I pulled on the wires around my wrists and they cut into me. Hurt so bad. I couldn’t make him stop!” I was screaming. I could no longer feel David’s arms around me.
“He took off his belt and put it around my throat. I was relieved death wa
s finally going to come.
“But I woke up. My neighbor, Mr. Berg, was holding me, pressing towels on my stomach. He was crying, talking about our gin game every Sunday. That I couldn’t die. I was so embarrassed. An eighty-three year old man seeing me naked. I wanted to die. I wanted to die.”
I cried until I thought I would break in half.
He held me for a long time. I opened my eyes expecting to see the blood. But we were transported back to David’s cool, calm bedroom. My body slowly got heavier, relaxing, sinking into the luxury of his arms.
He brought me brandy. His eyes were red which surprised me.
Like magic he pushed a button and a television came up from a beautiful cabinet. He turned it on.
Finding Nemo was playing. He wrapped me in a soft throw and we cuddled, giggling. Not talking. I felt so warm, saved, loved.
“You did really well, sweetheart.”
I turned and faced him. I didn’t think I’d ever felt to so close to another human in my life. I pressed my face into his giving him tiny kisses.
“Safe.”
“Always. Always safe with me.”
“David.”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“I love you.”
We kissed.
“Marry me, Sam. Don’t answer now. Wait until you’re through all of this. Then think about it.”
I kissed him again, wishing I could stay.
He drove me back. I was silent from exhaustion. My face was swollen from crying.
“Thought about what you’re telling Jack when you get home?”
“I don’t have a home, David.”
“Semantics.”
“No, I have a suitcase.”
“Temporarily.”
“Yes, I suppose so. And no, I don’t have a clue what I’ll tell Jack. Or Fritz. Although Fritz is much easier to deal with than Jack. I guess I’ll just tell him it was fun, had a great time, loved your house and the beach and…”
“That’s enough. He doesn’t own you. You can always stay with me, Sammy. Don’t forget that.”
He smiled as we pulled into the driveway.
Jack was sitting inside on the steps waiting for me.
I couldn’t look at him.
“Jack, you tore my dress. You are a bad…Oh, hello.” A tall amazingly beautiful blonde woman with a heavy accent walked in wearing only a leopard thong and carrying a black lace dress.