The Trees Beyond the Grass (A Cole Mouzon Thriller)
Page 9
Ann nodded. “Yeah. Can you believe he’s back in politics? At least his wife got the house.”
His eyes squinting in the bright sun, Cole let out a loud single laugh. “That’s no surprise. It’s South Carolina. We like our givens, even if we don’t like what is being gave. Strom Thurmond was like a hundred before they let him leave office. We have over three hundred years of history with sex, guns, and religion. Can’t mess that up now…it would be bad for business.”
“Spoken like a true South Carolinian.” Ann laughed at Cole’s nonchalant attitude.
He nudged her side with his hands full of beach towels and a cooler as they walked toward the beach. “Don’t talk, you’re one, too.”
“Ouch!” Cole looked over to watch as Ann balanced her load of beach chairs and then lifted one foot to pull the sticker that had just become embedded in her foot. Free of the burr, she responded. “Yeah, but unlike you, I wised up to the fact that things are not always what they seem in this fried-shrimp and sweet-tea paradise. Like here… The idea that forty percent of all slaves in this country came in right here, right where we are standing on this island, is just shocking if you looked at it today. It’s the Ellis Island of blacks.”
Cole added, “Let’s just be happy we didn’t grow up in that and weren’t raised that way. My granny would have cut my ass if I treated MeMe any differently than a white. I can hear Granny now, “You better get your white ass out there and apologize. Granny don’t play.”
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me! Remember when she caught us smoking behind her house in town? I think she had made a run to the drive-through margarita place on Coleman and busted us running off the back porch when she returned. That crazy woman made us put a bucket over our heads, covered it with a wet towel and then made us smoke a whole carton of cigarettes. I don’t think I’ve ever puked so much in my life.”
Cole shook his head as he dropped the cooler on the beach. “Ha! Good’ol Granny. You have to love that crazy woman.”
“Indeed.”
Billy had already reached the frothy waves and kicked off his sandals to get in the water. Cole shouted against the wind for him to go on, but stay in eye-sight while he and Ann set up the towels. Moments later they joined him in an effort to wash off the sticky sand that had already caked their skin, kicking and splashing upon reaching the water. Billy was lifted on Cole’s shoulders and all three waded waist deep until they found a sand bar several yards out, Cole and Ann still discussing their youth, which had been filled with days like this one.
“Billy, hold on…here you go, don’t drop it.” Cole had found a sand dollar and, using his toes, sandwiched its flat disk between his toes and drew it up for Billy to see. “You know there are angels inside of sand dollars, right?”
“What?” Billy inspected the light brown disk now in his hand and its small million red-peach colored feet still fighting to find something to grasp.
“Yep, we’ll let that one go, but if we find a dead one, I’ll show you.” Billy turned his hand and let the animal fall, rocking back and forth as it fell back to the murky bottom.
Several minutes of flipping Billy through the air and into the water, they were all back on shore. Cole took in the moment to watch Billy make a sand castle a few yards away.
CHAPTER 23
“SO, COUGH IT UP, mister. How’s the dating life?” With Billy out of earshot, Ann had decided to finally press for details on Cole’s life in Denver.
“Ugh, are we really going to talk about that? There are so many better things to talk about, like your dating life. What was his name again, Jose? Columbian, if I recall….”
Ann’s eyes went up and rolled. “Brazilian, thank you very much. But we’re not talking about me. Seriously… How’s your bed treating you?”
“My bed is treating me very well, thank you very much. Probably because the only person in it is me. Well, and Dixie.”
“Sounds lovely…. Are there any potentials? Give me the scoop.” Ann leaned in as though something exciting was about to be said.
“There are a few, but I really don’t have time for that right now. My job keeps me pretty busy, and then otherwise I am enjoying exploring the West. Plus, you know all the good ones are taken by the age of like twenty-eight, anyway.”
Disappointed at the lack of anything juicy, Ann leaned back into her seat and stared at the waves. “Yeah, but in reality the great thing is we are all royal fuck-ups. So the game plan for those of us who haven’t landed a keeper by thirty is to wait until someone messes it up with one of the good ones or gets really stupid and dumps them. Then…like sharks, we smell the blood in the water and grab that sucker before someone else does, praying that we don’t repeat the first guy’s mistake. That’s the key, mister, don’t mess up.” She reenacted someone capturing a fish with their hands.
“Wow, you and Dr. Phil should write a book together. I’d like to think love is a little more romantic than sharks fighting over a bite into the next tuna. Plus, I think I’m done with all that for now. Let some shark find me.”
“Cole, you can’t hide behind your job forever. You have to date.”
“Ann, I’m not hiding behind my job. I’m just busy, okay?”
“Look, I love you, you know I do, mister. And I just want the best for you. It’s been two years, don’t you think it’s time to try again?”
Cole’s mind went to Atlanta. He had let down his defenses for the first time ever and been damaged. The pain wasn’t fresh, but it did linger and he secretly had no interest in trying again. Cole didn’t know if keeping it in, refusing to feel, was good or bad, but it was the only way he could exist and function for now. In the mornings, when the wall was its lowest, the emotions came flooding in, blinding him and reminding him of just how helpless he now felt. To him, being unable to save someone he loved meant he deserved the cold side of the pillow every morning.
Over the past year an internal fight had developed between the longing to be loved and feeling unworthy of actually having it. He felt helpless against his own yearnings. With the wall, the two feelings were forced into their corners like fighting little boys, held there only so long as he was awake. In sleep, they were free to wield their punches, tearing away at the scar that had been created in Atlanta.
Closing his eyes in an attempt to wipe the blackboard of his thoughts clean, Cole lied. “It isn’t that, promise.”
“Bullshit. You left Atlanta to get away, and now you’re burying your head in your job. You aren’t getting any younger, Cole.”
She had pushed too hard. Cole looked up from watching his toes dig in the sand and yanked off his sunglasses. “Look who’s talking… I know, I know, you’re right. And I have gone out on dates. But how do you teach yourself to trust…yourself? To feel again? H. E. double L, I was barely feeling before. I can’t stop seeing it, Ann. It’s like it happens all over again every time I think about it. You know how I am, Ann. Images get stuck in my head like a bad movie on loop. And the only thing I can think is I failed. If I had done more or said more, it wouldn’t have happened. A cocaine overdose, Ann, cocaine. With me in the other room. I had no f-ing idea of the drugs, the hurting. What kind of boyfriend does that make me? That’s not good for the ‘ol heart. And it sure as hell isn’t good for the self-confidence that you can provide what your lover needs.”
“God man, you are…” Ann looked over to Billy a couple yards away now digging a moat around his sand castle, having taken note of Cole’s spelling of certain words. “F-ed, up aren’t you?” Ann smiled at her attempt at levity, apparently realizing she had crossed a line.
“Cole, you are an amazing man. You deserve someone just as amazing in your life. But you can’t have that if you don’t try. It wasn’t your fault. Some people are just damaged beyond repair and there is nothing you can do about that. You asked how you learn to love again, to feel again? Well, you can’t learn those things if you don’t extend love.”
Cole relaxed back into his chair. “And my head
agrees, but my heart hasn’t found the person it wants to attempt that with yet, that’s all I’m saying. I’m enjoying my unfeeling world. You can’t be hurt by what you don’t feel. Come on in, it’s nice and comfy.” Cole spread his arms in his imaginary hot tub.
Ann relented. “Fair enough…” There was a long pensive pause, then Ann spoke again. “Just make sure I’m invited to the wedding.” Cole smiled at Ann, the sun shining in her face and wind sweeping her hair.
“I can’t imagine it without you… Someone has to be the drunk fool; it might as well be you.”
By two the sun had drained them of all their energy and their stomachs ached in hunger. “Billy, you about ready to go grab some lunch before we have to drop you off?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Will you grab Miss Ann’s towel and see if she needs help with anything else?”
Billy rushed over to Ann now standing to brush the sand off her legs. “Miss Ann, do you need help with anything?”
“Oh baby, I’m good. If you will grab that towel, that will be enough.”
Arriving at the pine green-sided Dunleavy’s Pub just down the main street of the island, they slid into an old picnic table outside and promptly placed orders for sandwiches. Cole was starved and dehydrated, never a good combination for Billy’s boundless energy. Dread passed through his mind for a moment as he recalled having to ultimately deal with the FBI agent. Why was he asking to meet? And why is he coming to Charleston?
CHAPTER 24
TOTALLY BEACH-DRAINED, Cole met his sister at the police station to drop off Billy and ran back to the hotel for a quick nap. It was almost six by the time he snuck in a forty-five doze and then showered. There was a voicemail from the number he had called the night before. Agent Leas’ heavy voice indicated he needed to talk to Cole as soon as possible and was flying into town tomorrow. He would contact Cole when he landed. What the hell? The mental wall went up, cutting off further consideration of why the FBI would be chasing him down. His evening was planned and he didn’t want to worry.
Cole was no spendthrift, but he did admire nice clothes. So, when Gilt had a sale on Armani suits, he’d pounced. The dark grey striped two-buttoned suit fit like a glove, thanks to a tailor back in Denver. He matched it with a crisp white spread-collared shirt, leaving unbuttoned the top two buttons. He almost always rolled his sleeves, the result of shirts never fitting the length of his arms, and also a style dictated by humid, warm nights. But that would have to wait until after the Spoleto event scheduled for later in the evening.
“Holy shit, you look gorgeous!” Ann had swung the door to her room open in a grand, sweeping move, revealing her in a gown that would demand any man’s attention, even the Pope’s. With a gold fading to grey base, it was studded with all sorts of gems that emphasized the extreme V which cupped her overflowing breasts. It was off the shoulders, and short. She had put her hair in some type of bun and Cole suspected the use of a ‘bump-it’ to create the extra height. “Why, thank you. Do you think this will get me laid tonight?”
“Tonight? Hell, I can get you laid right now!”
“Ha ha, I’ve learned my lesson. I don’t think my tickets are accepted on that fun park ride.” They smiled playful, growling smiles at each other and walked out of the room to head to the main entrance of the hotel where a stranger held the door open for them. The friendly nature of Charlestonians was always apparent to Cole. The city’s inhabitants went out of their way to say hi and look you in the eyes like they were on the set of Gone With the Wind, promenading about. If you tried that in any other city, you would cuss yourself because people would either look at you like a creep or put out their hand for your spare change.
Walking a few blocks from the hotel into Slightly North of Broad, or SNOB as the locals called it, Spoleto’s energy engulfed them and poured through the city’s streets. Ann and Cole had barely arrived when Daniel walked through the door, with a guest.
“Wow! Y’all look amazing. I am clearly underdressed.”
“Thanks man, and who is this?” Pulling back to take in the woman to Daniel’s left, Ann pressed him for information.
“This is Janet.” They exchanged pleasantries as Cole admired his friend’s obvious date. Her light brown eyes glowed against the green and black cocktail dress she wore and her auburn-red hair. He had immediately recognized her from the bar the previous night, the image of the event flashing before his eyes. The hostess walked up just as he was about to play dumb and ask Janet how she met Daniel.
Janet leaned around her and whispered, “We just met last night.” Cole smiled at his old friend and admired his confidence. You dirty dog.
Sitting, the introduction continued, with Janet telling the table she was a local anesthesiologist. “Oh, I’ve handled a few cases with them. An interesting bunch…” Cole stopped himself before insulting their guest with a harsh generalization of such doctors being pill and needle poppers. Ann and Cole followed with their introductions, disclosing their professions and how they knew Daniel. Janet seemed deeply intrigued by their careers and prodded Cole to tell story after story of his legal experiences.
“Janet, have we met before? I don’t mean last night. I swear I have met you or seen you somewhere recently.”
“Nope, I don’t think so. I haven’t been to Denver in years.” The thought frustrated Cole. Ordinarily his memory was precise and crisp. But, if he didn’t pay enough attention to the event or image he was observing, it came in fuzzy, ragged at its edges like an out of focus camera. He let the frustration pass as the continued to talk.
REMNANTS OF FILET with crab sauce remained on his plate when Cole disclosed the strange message he had received from the FBI agent the night before. Daniel and Cole had known each other since kindergarten and knew each other’s teen secrets like brothers.
“So, he said in the message that he was curious if anyone had tried to contact me or had made any threats against me. Listening to it, I thought to myself it was always possible that I could be threatened; after all, I was a trial lawyer and certainly have pissed off a few people in my cases…but nothing serious. The worst I have ever seen was that crazy murder case when I worked in Georgia and I pointed the finger at the sheriff’s office. I got a personal warning from the sheriff saying that he couldn’t control his boys if I kept pushing. Nothing ever came of that though.”
Daniel asked, “Did he tell you why he was asking?”
Cole shrugged his shoulders. “No, man. That was the entire message. Just ‘I got some questions for you’ and then that he would be in contact. How cryptic is that?”
“Did he say how he got your name? How scary!” Janet piped in, concern showing on her face.
“I bet he got your name from one of your old criminal clients. I wouldn’t worry about it. Plus, if someone is coming after you, they would have to get through me first.” Daniel pounded his chest, causing the two ladies to laugh.
Cole had only seen Daniel in a fight once, during a basketball game, and the victor wasn’t the other guy. Daniel also played receiver for the Wando Warriors in high school and he didn’t dodge people, he plowed through them. Though he was a tech start-up guy now, Daniel hadn’t lost his bulk, and looks alone said to not mess with him.
Cole playfully elbowed his friend. “Awe, love you, too, man.”
“But if you would like me to look into it, let me know. I have some contacts in D.C. who I bet can get me some information.”
“I appreciate that man. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”
Looking across the table to Ann and Janet talking, Cole interrupted, “Drink up ladies. Ann and I have a show to see. An opera!” Cole threw his hands in the air in a theatrical loop.
“It’s been great seeing you Cole. You too, Ann. Don’t be a strangers, you hear me? I’ve missed that ugly face of yours Cole.”
“Hey man, better than that bull-dog of a mug you call a face.” Daniel put Cole into a loose headlock as they exited onto the sidewalk. “Oh, it’s on
now!” Cole smiled as he walked backwards with Ann, looking back at his friend.
CHAPTER 25
OVER A WEEK had passed since her last kill, but Poinsett’s final kill was close, driving her to into frenzy like a starved dog over food. She could taste death in the damp air; the unworthy would die. Mouzon would die. Sipping her Earl Grey outside the Slave Market across from the Charleston Place hotel, she wondered if he knew that he was about to die. She had found him in this old city…hiding. Did he sense his hunter closing in, her hot breath breathing down his neck? Or would he be ignorant until the very moment she announced her presence?
Putting away her pen, she stared at the square note card sitting on the black wrought iron table where she was seated. The notes were the prefect touch, in her mind. It told them everything they needed to know. How they were never intended to live. That by living they had deprived her, robbed her of her life. And that they would die for what they had done. The process was about enjoying herself, after all. Some people had cars, others played cards. For her, it was the hunt of retribution.
If they knew what she went through as a little girl, the pain, the abuse of it all…they would understand their guilt. They might actually have welcomed their fate. Those before had died not knowing just how miserable they had made her life. Mouzon would be different. She needed him to feel her pain.
She thought to herself that it was pretty easy to locate him really; she’d called his office in Denver after leaving his house Friday morning and told them she was his sister and wanted to surprise him with a bottle of champagne for his visit. His assistant coughed up the information with glee. She giggled as the phone hung up. Stupid little girl.