Body of Lies

by Deirdre Savoy

  About seven o’clock, Smitty had brought them some dinner. Zach had eaten his sitting at the desk, the only furniture in the room besides the bed and dresser. He’d consumed three-quarters of the bottle of wine that came with the meal, too. The alcohol had taken a little of the edge off him—a little bit, but not much. He wanted her to wake so that he could see that she was all right, but he didn’t want to push her to wakefulness before she was ready.

  Finally she sat up, gathering the covers around her. Her hair had dried wild around her face. That and the warm light from the single lamp he’d turned on presented a sultry picture. He tamped down on his libido, since this wasn’t the time. Or maybe it was, but not yet.

  She brushed a strand of hair from her face and smiled at him. “What are you doing all the way over there?”

  He wasn’t that far away, but he got up and lay down on the bed next to her, leaning up on one elbow. “Feeling better?”

  “Much.” She leaned down and kissed him, but withdrew almost immediately. “You’ve been drinking?” she asked.

  She sounded so indignant it surprised him. He hiccupped in a way he thought she’d find funny and let his eyes go half-mast. “Only a teensy bit.” He held up his thumb and forefinger with a wide space between them. He grasped her elbow to pull her toward him. “Come here and give Daddy some sugar.”

  He was teasing her, but the look of horror that came over her face told him he’d missed the mark. “Not when you’re drunk.” She actually fled from him, yanking the cover from beneath him to wrap herself in. She stopped at the entrance to the bathroom, leaning against it as if to protect herself from attack from behind.

  He’d never seen her like this before, genuinely terrified, not even after Williams had gotten to her. “What’s going on here, Alex?”

  “Nothing.” She lowered her head so that he couldn’t see her face. “Nothing. I just don’t like to be with a man who’s drunk.”

  He wasn’t. Maybe if she hadn’t just been recovering she might have noticed that. But what got to him was that she said “a man,” not him. He knew without her telling him that she’d been assaulted. Was that how it started? “Tell me what happened, Alex. Who hurt you?”

  Her head snapped up. “Why?” She brushed her hair from her face with an impatient gesture. “So you can run out and kill him for me? Nothing you do can make him deader than he is already.”

  She thought he asked out of some macho territoriality bullshit? He couldn’t care less. He only cared about her. “Tell me.”

  “Why? It happened a long time ago. It doesn’t mean anything anymore. I’ve already worked through it. It doesn’t matter.”

  If she could see herself she wouldn’t try to foist that lie on him. “Then why are you trembling?”

  “Can’t you just let it be? You can’t change anything.”

  No, he knew that very well. The past remained immutable beyond his capacity to change it. But if anything she said could help him understand her in the present, he wanted to hear it. “Don’t you think I’m capable of understanding what happened to you?”

  “No,” she said in a voice so quiet he barely heard her. “You wouldn’t understand this.”

  “Try me.”

  Her eyes squeezed shut and he could see that she was fighting tears. Her hands were fisted against her chest. “Let it be, Zach.”

  Didn’t she realize he couldn’t do that? He wanted to shake her and make her tell him, but by force of will he stayed where he was. “Damn it, Alex. I’m not going to let this drop.”

  She sniffled and her throat worked. She looked away from him, obviously struggling with whether to confide in him or not. She shook her head, but when she looked at him again, he saw the anger and resignation in her eyes. “It was Sammy, all right?” She spat the words at him, her voice raised. “It was Sammy. He raped me when I was fourteen. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling as if he’d just taken a blow to the gut. His eyes burned and he couldn’t seem to take in air properly. Sammy? He’d never expected that. Not as overprotective as Sammy was. Or that’s the label Zach had given it at the time. But in another light Sammy’s attempts to keep Alex to himself could appear to be a sick sort of possessiveness.

  Nausea roiled in his belly along with a white-hot rage against the man he had once considered his father. Another example of his impotence, for as Alex said, nothing he could do would make that man any deader.

  He opened his eyes and looked at Alex. She’d sunk down along the wall until she sat on the floor with her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook and he could hear her sobbing. He inhaled, willing his anger to recede. It was futile at this point and she didn’t need that besides.

  He went to her and sat on the floor in front of her. He pulled her to him so that her upturned knees fit between his parted ones. She didn’t acknowledge him in any way, but he held her, rocking them both gently until her tears subsided.

  “It was a little more than a year after my mother died. I still missed her so much. Sometimes when my dad was working nights, I’d lie in their bed and pretend she was still there. That’s what we’d do sometimes when he was working—lie in bed and watch old movies and talk. Half the time I’d fall asleep and she’d wake me in the morning to go to school. I missed her so much, I cried until I fell asleep.”

  She brushed a tear from her cheek. “When I woke up, there was something hot and heavy on me, inside me, hurting me. I could smell the liquor on his breath before I could make out that it was him, Sammy. I started to fight him, to try to get him off me, but he was so damn drunk, I don’t think he even felt it. He said one word, my mother’s name, then rolled over and went to sleep.

  “I lay there for a long time, hurt, stunned. I tried to tell myself that he was so out of it that in his stupor he must have thought I was my mother. That would have been bad enough, but manageable somehow. It would have meant he hadn’t intended what he did.

  “He never said a word to me about it. I would have thought he didn’t remember what happened, except I saw the guilt on his face. Sammy rarely accepted culpability for anything, but when he did, he wore it on his sleeve. Besides, if he hadn’t remembered, wouldn’t he have wanted some explanation for the blood on his sheets? When I came home from school the next day, he’d changed the bed himself so he must have noticed. I was so ashamed.”

  She laid her head against his shoulder and cried. He didn’t know what to say to her. Of all the victims he’d comforted with pat words of encouragement, he couldn’t bring himself to say any of them now. None of those other women had meant to him what Alex did. All he could do was hold her until her tears subsided.

  “Do you blame yourself for what happened?”

  “I put myself there where he could hurt me. It wasn’t like I hadn’t known what he wanted from me. I’d noticed the way he started looking at me, and it was not a father’s look. Just like all those other narcissistic assholes out there that demand service from their families, if not their wife, then whatever female they can get their hands on. But he was such a coward he had to get drunk to do it. That was the man everyone idolized, a drunk and a man who would molest his own child.”

  “Why didn’t you tell anyone, Alex?” He had to believe that if anyone knew, it would have cost Sammy his job and sent him to jail. They would have taken Alex from him.

  “Tell who? You think any of his cop buddies were going to come there to arrest him? Even if they did, what then? There was no one else to take me in. I’d be put in some foster home. No way. I’d heard stories, knew kids who’d gotten placed with families worse than their own. Sammy was the devil I knew, and I knew how to handle him.”

  She brushed a tear from her cheek with an annoyed swipe of her hand. “I knew he kept a spare gun in a lockbox in the basement. I slept with it hidden inside my pillowcase every night, even though he basically left me alone for a while. I knew he’d be back, though. When he came to my room, I pulled out the gun and told him I’
d shoot him dead if he ever tried to touch me again. I think it was the first thing I ever said to him that he actually took seriously.”

  Zach hugged her to him. What she said explained so many things—not the least of which was what she’d meant by the gun being a “gift” from her father. She could see herself as a young girl contemplating that she had no options save the one she took. But after a while, she did have another. “You could have told me.”

  She leaned back to look up at him. “Right. I was supposed to tell you, his protégé, that this man you idolized had raped his own daughter?”

  She held his gaze for a moment before looking away, but he saw it in her eyes. She’d thought he might not have believed her either. That hurt him more than anything had in his whole life. He cradled her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “I loved you, Alex. I would have believed you.” If he’d thought she could handle it, he would have added that he still loved her, but now wasn’t the time for that.

  “I know you would have. Do you think I would have wanted to see you go to prison for avenging me against my father? But once you came along, I was safe from him, anyway.”

  What the hell did that mean? “What are you talking about, Alex?”

  She scrutinized his face. “You really didn’t know?” She shrugged. “I guess Sammy wouldn’t have bothered to tell you for fear that you’d bolt. I didn’t realize it myself at first, but I came to realize it after a while. That manipulative bastard had picked you out for me.”

  He sputtered, not knowing what to say to that.

  She laughed, but not with humor. “Don’t look so shocked. I know Sammy. He figured if he couldn’t have me he’d control who would. I should have known right away. He never brought his partners home or encouraged them to visit the way he did you. Didn’t you find it odd that as domineering as he was, he’d leave us alone together, only to put up a token protest that you shouldn’t be hanging around his daughter so much? Especially at the end, he’d leave us together for whole evenings at a time.”

  If she’d known, why hadn’t she said anything? “Why didn’t you ever tell me? Why didn’t you put a stop to it?”

  She shook her head. “Because I didn’t object.” She laughed again in the same way. “I was in love with you.”

  He noticed she said was, not am. That seemed logical since they were talking about the past, but it still stung. “Then what was it that killed that feeling? Was it when I left you?” He couldn’t believe this would be true anymore, but he asked anyway. “Was it when your father died?” He couldn’t bring himself to say “when I got him killed.” No matter how he felt about Sammy now, that fact still remained.

  “Zach, my father was dying. He didn’t tell me, so I know he didn’t tell you. I didn’t know it until after he was gone, but he had cancer. By the time he went to the doctor it had metastasized throughout his body. It was too late. Sammy told me that nothing but the job was going to kill him and he made sure of that. You’ve heard of suicide by cop? His was suicide by perp. He knew what he was doing.”

  Zach thought of Sammy lying on the floor, his blood seeping out of his body, his pride in being able to claim he knew the perp was armed. That pride hadn’t been about his prowess as a cop but his ability to predict the means of his own demise. Damn Sammy. All these years he’d been blaming himself when Sammy had gotten exactly what he wanted.

  “Let me ask you,” she continued. “What were his last words to you?”

  “To take care of you, that you were my responsibility.”

  “Is that really what he said or are you embellishing it?”

  “He said, ‘She’s your—’ He didn’t finish.”

  “He wasn’t asking you to look after me, he was giving me to you.”

  Zach stared back at her, his brain reeling from all she’d told him. He’d been blind to all of it, all except Alex’s feelings for him. As the difference in their ages seemed to mean less and less, he’d begun to feel the same things, too. He’d wanted her, and when she’d offered herself to him, he hadn’t put up much of a fight. He hadn’t understood that it was part of Sammy’s master plan. But now he couldn’t help but wonder if she would have given herself to him if she hadn’t been programmed to do it. She might have hated her father, but she’d done what he wanted anyway.

  It was too much information for his mind to process with any insight. He was bone-weary in more than a physical way. He stood, pulling her up along with him. “Let’s go to bed,” he said.

  She nodded and let him lead her back to the bed. Once they were settled, he kissed her forehead. “Good night, Alex,” he whispered, but he didn’t touch her that night, except to hold her until she fell asleep. He stayed awake a long time after, his brain too busy to sleep.

  Alex woke early, still in the haven of Zach’s arms. She lifted her head and looked down at him. He looked peaceful now in slumber, but last night she’d seen the way he looked at her, as if she were somehow culpable in all Sammy’s dealings. He’d hated her last night for keeping all that from him. She’d known that’s the way he would feel, which is why she’d never wanted to tell him. If she hadn’t freaked out over a couple of glasses of wine, she might have succeeded in that.

  But more than wanting to preserve her own place with him, she’d wanted to be honest with him. Once the floodgates opened she’d wanted to let it all spill out. He deserved that, even if she lost him in the process. She should have told him long ago, the moment she realized he blamed himself for Sammy’s death.

  She kissed him again and got out of bed. They would have to go back to the city today. That would be more easily accomplished if she was ready to go. She noticed that someone had purchased clothes for her in roughly her size, bought shampoo and a much-needed brush and blow-drier. It had probably been Smitty. She’d have to thank him when she saw him.

  She got in the shower, washed and dried her hair, and fashioned it into the same braid she’d worn the day before. The clothes were a bit loose, but they’d do. Barefoot, she opened the bathroom door. Zach was already sitting up in bed, watching her with an expression she couldn’t read. She plastered a smile on her face, not even understanding her own rationale for that. All she knew was that after last night she couldn’t handle another confrontation. “I hope I didn’t wake you?”

  “I knew the minute you got up.”

  He said that with so little emotion, she wondered why he bothered. “I’ll call downstairs for some coffee.”

  “I already did. If they come while I’m in the shower tell them to leave it outside.” He got out of the bed, still nude. She watched him walk toward her, her gaze traveling over his body, hungry, since they hadn’t been together last night.

  He paused when he got to her, tipped her chin up, and kissed her mouth, a brief unsatisfying caress, before going inside the bathroom and closing the door.

  Alex shut her eyes. He’d withdrawn from her, the one thing she knew would happen and the last thing she wanted. She wasn’t really sorry she’d told him. He’d deserved to know for a long time. She’d have to wait and see what the delay had cost her.

  Zach was just coming out of the bathroom when a knock sounded at the door. She remained sitting on the bed while he went to answer the door. She’d already tidied the room so as not to be too obvious about the fact that they’d shared a bed last night, even if that’s all they’d shared.

  Smitty walked in carrying a tray laden with a coffee carafe, cups, and muffins. “Your continental breakfast has arrived.” He looked from her to Zach and back. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Better.” At least physically she did, if she didn’t count the expanding hollow in the pit of her stomach. “Why don’t you join us?”

  Smitty grinned. “I had every intention.” He sat in the chair by the desk leaving Zach to sit beside her.

  But he didn’t. He fixed his coffee and stood leaning his back on the door. “What’s going on?”

  “The local boys released Mama’s body to u
s. We got an ID on the dead girl. One of her neighbors called in to say that she’d seen her with Thorpe, Williams, whatever the hell we’re going to call him. Apparently he’d been holing up in her apartment as needed. He only strangled her and buried her, poor thing.”

  Alex set her muffin on the bed beside her. She didn’t have much of an appetite either, not for food or the conversation. She was sure she’d hear it all on the trip back with Zach, anyway.

  She stood taking her coffee cup with her. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to finish getting ready.” “She took her pocketbook into the bathroom with her and shut the door.

  As soon as Alex was out of sight Smitty turned to Zach. “Okay, what did you do? No woman gets a look on her face like that without some man having done something.”

  Zach ground his teeth together. He should have expected Smitty’s reaction, but frankly he had other things on his mind. “Look,” he said, “I appreciate your protectiveness of Alex, I really do, but stay out of it.”

  But Smitty wouldn’t be put off that easily. “What happened? Did you two have a fight?”

  Zach shook his head. He didn’t know what explanation he could give Smitty anyway if he deigned to give one. His mental state had been a mess since Alex walked back in his life. Now his emotions were just as bad. The only thing he did know for sure he told Smitty. “We’ll work it out.”

  “See that you do.”

  Zach laughed. Smitty never could miss that parting shot. “Getting back to business, what else is going on?”

  “We found the last owner of the house. She still owns it though it’s abandoned. Her name is Vernita Williams. Think there’s any relation?”

  “Grandma?”

  “Thanks to the photo vault, we found pictures of her. They’re dated, but who knows if someone will recognize her? We’re releasing the photos here, in the city, and in Rockford. That’s where the boys were born. Maybe someone there will remember something about them, maybe some childhood friend Williams might turn to.”