Unscrewed

by Lois Greiman

  I backed away. My chest felt tight. “You killed her,” I said. “With a drug too new to be detected.”

  He grinned. It didn’t look so harmless anymore.

  “But…” I tried to shake my head, remembering the crime photo of the glass imprinted with Salina’s lipstick. The world shifted. “I didn’t drink anything. Hardly ate…” I darted my gaze to the cookies he’d offered.

  He chuckled. “That Danny’s a genius, ain’t he? Developed stuff that’ll absorb right through the skin. It’s hardly nothin’ but a damned plant extract.”

  I looked down at my hands. They felt disconnected. My vision wavered. “It was on my glass?”

  “Don’t work real good on smooth surfaces. But on leather—”

  I jerked my gaze back up. “Your glove.”

  “Has a latex lining. Stuff has a kick like a mule if you get it on your skin. It’ll make a damned fortune. You just got a middlin’ dose, but you’re feelin’ it, ain’t you?” He chuckled. “Topical anesthesia. It’ll do some good, too. Damn doctors, always poking around for a vein like I’m a fuckin’ lab rat. Just rub a teensy bit of this on the skin and I wouldn’t feel a thing. Numbs you clear down to the bone. ’Course, if you get too much…” He grinned. He was stalking me, shaking his head. My legs felt like noodles beneath me. I was only a few steps from the deck door. From help. “You pretty gals. You think you run the world these days. Sali…”

  I backed into something, fumbled around it, gasping for air, for sense. The world seemed cloudy.

  “…she was a beauty.” He snorted. “Morals of a tiger shark, but pretty as the sunrise. Slept with every man-whore in town. It’s a shame.”

  My fingers touched something. It felt indistinct as it came away in my hand. Nothing but a pillow. A pillow. I hadn’t gotten past the couch.

  “’Cuz I woulda given her the world.”

  “You were sleeping with her, too.” I stumbled around the end of the couch. The floor slanted up to meet me. I fought the incline.

  He laughed. The sound ricocheted off my ears. “There wasn’t much sleepin’ done when she was in the room. Hell, she’s been draggin’ Danny around by his pecker ever since the beginning. Ever since we started making some real money. Thought he might quit her when he became engaged, but…” He snorted. “Sali, she’s like a drug. Can’t just say no. And we was all about to make a bundle of cash. She liked to stay close.”

  I shook my head. The room shifted erratically. “We?”

  “Had us a good thing goin’. Sali, too. Stood to make a fortune on that hair goop. There was some cancer in the test animals, true enough. But cancer…” He huffed a snort. “…it’s in the air these days. Don’t mean nothing. Miguel, though, he was being difficult. Wanted more testing done. Getting all high and righteous. And after all the shit he pulled with his aides and such. Hell, his own son won’t hardly talk to him.” He shook his head. “Family’s everything. Kids these days, they don’t know that. Divorce everywhere you look. But I guess that don’t matter to you no more. Anyway, Sali—she could have brought Miguel around. Only all of a sudden she wanted to come clean. Start fresh, she says.”

  I remembered Salina’s adoring expression, her hand resting on a dark-haired gentleman’s chest. “She was in love with Julio. The senator’s double. She was in love with him.”

  “The drug’s undetectable,” he said, as if I hadn’t spoken. “Stops the lungs if you get too much. Tricky that way. Danny’ll figure out how to make it work for us, though. But why am I telling you? You must have figured that out. Smart girl like you.” He scowled, scrunching his face. “Smart girls, takin’ jobs from men. Blackmailing men. That’s what you had in mind, wasn’t it? Blackmail. I knew the minute I saw you talkin’ to Danny’s girl at the zoo.”

  “You saw me.”

  “I’m old but I ain’t blind. Or stupid, neither. I know folks. Can read ’em like a book. I knew you was trouble the minute I laid eyes on you. Was hopin’ you wouldn’t cause no ruckus, though, seein’s how you had your hands full with Miguel’s boy. But then I checked into your past.” He shook his head. “Nosy broad, ain’t you? Can’t—”

  “You can’t kill me.” My voice was raspy. “Too much of a coincidence. Salina…now me. They’ll figure it out. Rivera—”

  “Sali thought she could just pull up stakes and take off. But hell, she knew everything. Got her hands on some reports. Figured out there were problems. That gal could get a man to confess to murder.” He giggled at his own pun. The sound echoed eerily in my rocking brain. “Besides, there wasn’t no reason not to tell her. Wasn’t like she cared if half the country croaked. But all of a sudden she wanted out. I went to Miguel’s house to change her mind, but she wouldn’t budge. In my heart, I knew she wouldn’t.” He shook his head. “Like I said, I know folks. So I brought the stuff with me.” He curled his paper-white fingers as if he held the drug in his hand. “I hated to do it.” For a moment his eyes looked distant, almost dreamy, then he laughed. “She fucks like a hungry whore, but money talks.”

  “You wore her rubber glove.” I yanked my gaze from his fingers. “The mate to the blue one in the photo. I thought it was Daniel at first. But his hands were too big. You wore her glove to avoid fingerprints.”

  “I helped her with dishes. Like one of her New Age pansy boys. But I didn’t wear ’em just for fingerprints, lass. That’s where you’re wrong. The drug don’t absorb through rubber.”

  “You put it on her glass.”

  “On her glass.” He chuckled. “In her glass. Didn’t want to take no chances.”

  “She drank it.”

  “Girl could empty a fish tank and still be desert-dry. And that stuff is potent when taken by mouth. Had you drunk your Scotch like a good girl, you’d be dead as my elephant-hide boots.” He shrugged. “It’ll be a little slower now, but we’ll get the job done.”

  “What about Rivera? He’ll—”

  “Rivera? Miguel’s boy?” He laughed. “I saw him pull up the drive that night. Looked just like his old man when he stepped out of his car.” He shook his head, reminiscing. “All earnest and righteous. Sali, she’d hit the floor just minutes before. I was just riggin’ the stove so’s L.A.’s finest could find a convenient cause of death. They get testy when they’re baffled. And this stuff of Danny’s is a puzzler.”

  “You hit Rivera. Knocked him out.” I could see it now. Could see him standing behind Rivera. Not Daniel, but Peachtree. Damn. A little late and kind of important. “With your cane. The heavy one I saw in the picture.”

  He laughed. “Folks think I’m done for. But I still got some starch in me. Felt like ol’ times. Swingin’ for the bleachers. Gerald, he was just turning toward her. In a big rush. I was behind the wall. Plenty of room. He dropped like a rock. Thought for a minute he might be dead, but it’s just as well he wasn’t. Miguel would probably have raised holy hell.”

  “What about Salina?” Keep him talking, and keep breathing. Really had to keep breathing. “Senator Rivera wasn’t attached to her?”

  “She was plannin’ to leave him. Hell, she’d always been screwin’ someone else. I knew it all along. I suspect he did, too. Hard to love a gal who’s crushin’ your balls in both hands. Easy to kill ’em, though.”

  My knees buckled. I straightened them with a snap. “They’ll figure it out,” I said. “They’ll know.”

  “You think I’m an idiot? You think I’m gonna leave you lying on my deck for the crows to pick at? Naw. I’ll shove you back in your little car. Take you down that windy road, let you run into a tree. It’ll be terrible sad.”

  “Eldwardo.” The name came to me in a blast of lucidity. If I could just make it outside. “Your gardener knows I’m here.”

  The room boomed with his laughter. “I don’t know no Eldwardo. We’re alone here, little girl. Just you and me.”

  “I heard you—”

  “Talk to someone who ain’t there? Yeah, you did. Thought you could outsmart me, didn’t you? Come here, asking
questions. All innocent. All sweet. But I can smell a tramp a mile off. Just like Sali.” He shook his head. I had stopped moving without knowing it. I stumbled back into motion, almost hit my knees.

  “I gave her the moon. Woulda given the sun and the stars, too. Just had one little favor. One thing.”

  “I can’t breathe,” I said.

  “I know. It’s a shame. That’s what she said. ‘Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe.’ Well, then she should have talked to Miguel, shouldn’t she? Should have told him to keep things quiet. A little bit of cancer in the lab rats. Well, men ain’t rats, are they? But Miguel said he was going public unless there was more testing done. She coulda changed his mind. Once she spread her legs, ain’t no man could keep his head on straight.”

  “Help me.” My knees hit the carpet. The impact shattered my system, cracking against my lungs, sparking memories through my oxygen-starved system. “Rivera!” I screamed. The word was a harsh croak.

  Peachtree froze in his tracks. “What the hell are you playin’ at, girl?”

  “He’s here.” My lungs were giving out for good.

  He glanced out the window. “There’s no one here.”

  My mind was off-kilter. “Of course he is. He always is. Rivera!” I screamed again, and staggered to my feet. The room spun. I closed my eyes. “Every time someone tries to…” I was falling again. My shoulder hit the floor. I rolled onto my back. “When someone tries to kill me.”

  I could feel Peachtree bending over me. I was by the fireplace. I could see the variegated brick, the hearth, the tools.

  “Lying little bitch,” he snarled, but suddenly my fingers closed around the poker. I swung it with all my might.

  He shrieked and stumbled back, holding his ear.

  I scrambled to my feet, but my legs were numb. I fell, half crawling, half running toward the door.

  “Rivera!” I shrieked, but something tangled in my hair and I was yanked off my feet.

  My head cracked against the floor. Peachtree was standing over me. Blood was oozing from his ear, but the poker in his hands stole my focus. It was raised above his head.

  “Bossy bitches. Gotta make life so damned hard,” he rasped, and swung.

  I rolled sideways. The poker scraped across my back, but I was already scrambling away on all fours. The dining room table was ahead of me. I scurried between the legs of a chair, got stuck at the hips. His hand grazed my back, snagging my waistband. I shrieked and reared up. The chair went with me. Then I was falling, careening over backward, the chair on him, me on the chair. It cracked in two.

  He was cursing. I wished I had so much breath to waste. He tried to grab me, but splinters of wood were everywhere and the table was in sight again. I galloped beneath it on hands and knees I couldn’t feel. He roared after me, trying to snatch my feet. But I was safe for a moment, gasping for each painful breath, fighting the haze that pulled at my mind.

  His face appeared not three feet away, peering at me.

  “Come on out of there, girl,” he said. He was breathing hard, too. “We’ll talk.”

  “Talk?” My voice sounded like sandpaper on concrete. “You think I’m crazy?”

  “Crazy.” He wiped the blood from the side of his head, then straightened, maybe to save his back. “Crazy like a fox. Crawl outta there now. Listen, I know when I’ve been beat. We need another smart cookie on staff. We’ll cut you in.”

  “You’ll…cut me…” I croaked.

  Peachtree chuckled and bent again. And in that instant I remembered the table setting above me.

  I reached up, felt something against my fingers, and yanked it into my lair.

  “In my day, women weren’t—” he began, and then I struck, stabbing with all my might. My weapon turned out to be a corkscrew. It sank into his foot, rattlesnake handle quivering between the straps of his sandals.

  He shrieked. I spun around, striking my head on chair legs and scrambling for the far end. Freedom. The door. I knocked the last chair out of my way. I could hear him coming for me, cursing, moaning, stumbling, but I was almost there.

  And suddenly the sky fell. I was slammed to the floor, my lungs pinned beneath the weight of the world. In some dim region of my mind maybe I knew he’d planted a chair across my back. Maybe I knew he was crushing the breath from me. Maybe I knew he was stepping on the chair, forcing the last gasp of breath from my lungs.

  But at that moment the door flew open. The weight left my back. I managed to lift my head. Rivera stood framed by the sky behind him, expression darker than hell, legs spread, hands holding a gun. My first thought was that I should get me one of those. My second was that he looked kind of like a pirate.

  “Gerald…” Peachtree’s voice shook. “I’m glad you’re here. This woman—”

  “Move so much as a finger and I’ll blow your fuckin’ head off,” Rivera growled.

  There was the sound of running feet. “Rivera!” someone yelled. “Lieutenant! Put the gun down.”

  “I would, Captain.” Rivera’s voice was low and steady. “But maybe we better make sure Peach here doesn’t kill Chrissy first.”

  There was some cursing. A couple snapped questions. After that I’m not sure exactly what happened. Somebody yelled. Something about paramedics. Some running feet.

  The chair was lifted from my back.

  “McMullen.”

  I could hear Rivera’s voice, but it did indeed sound like it came from the end of a long tunnel.

  “Damn it, McMullen, open your eyes.”

  I did. Funny, though, I’d thought they were already open. Rivera’s face looked pale and fuzzy, except for his left eye. That was bloodshot and surrounded by skin the color of a bad banana.

  “You’re the most beautiful girl in the universe, and very possibly the smartest,” he said.

  Or maybe that’s not what he said. I’ve never been sure about the side effects of those drugs. My lips moved, but nothing came out.

  He yelled something to the hazy mob behind him, then leaned close, ear to my mouth. “What, honey?” I was in and out of consciousness. But I really think he did call me honey in a voice gruff and soft, like he cared that I was dying. “What’d you say?”

  It took all the strength I had, but I managed to speak. “Damn, you’re slow,” I croaked.

  29

  A balanced diet and a brisk daily walk will help keep you healthy, but there’s nothing like a good-looking young man with a nice butt to hep up your cardiovascular system.

  —Sister Nina, Holy Name’s most scandalous teacher

  IT WAS DARK in my world. I blinked to make sure my eyes were open. A green light blinked back at me. Hospital. Alone. I tried to reconnect with the days past. There’d been a lot of screaming again. Not so much running. More crawling. I took a deep breath. It hurt my lungs, but I didn’t feel like I was going to pass out. A favorable sign. I vaguely remembered an ambulance ride. Someone had checked me in. Nice of them. Still, it would have been even nicer if that someone had stayed around a while. Laney was already on location. I wondered foggily how much time had passed.

  “What the hell’s wrong with you, McMullen?” Rivera’s voice came from the end of the bed. I lifted my head. The darkness shifted erratically. I laid my head carefully back down and smiled at the ceiling.

  “Well…I can’t breathe very well. Feels like someone’s sitting on my chest. My head hurts.” I paused to take inventory. I imagined it was a good sign that I could remember the word “inventory.” “My knees sting. My back is sore—”

  “Are you a fuckin’ nut job, or what?”

  I didn’t jump right in on that one, wanting to give it the sagacious consideration it deserved, but fell asleep instead. Might have been for the best.

  Sometime later, I awoke with a start.

  “Told you he wasn’t guilty,” I grumbled. I could feel crusty drool on my cheek. I glanced around, hoping Rivera hadn’t noticed.

  “Mac?” Laney was beside my bed. Seemed like she was holding my hand
. I noticed that there were two bouquets of spring flowers and a stuffed Eeyore along one wall. The room remained relatively stable.

  “Told him his dad wasn’t guilty,” I rasped.

  “Are you okay?” Her voice sounded squishy.

  I scowled. “Is someone sitting on my chest?”

  “No.”

  “Not so bad, then,” I said. My words were slurred. “But my head still hurts and my back aches like a son of a—”

  A tall figure approached from my right. I jerked my gaze in that direction. A little too quick.

  “Senator!” I said, and tried to straighten my hair. A tube protruded from my right hand and disappeared past the edge of the bed.

  “This is Julio Manderos,” Laney said.

  “Oh.” I felt like a stroke victim, but probably looked more like someone who’d had an unhappy meeting with a lightning bolt. “Sure.” My hospital gown was twisted uncomfortably around my waist. But it was probably too late to look sexy anyway. Maybe I’d go for coherent. “Hi.”

  He smiled. His expression was as sad and gentle as I remembered. Taking my pierced hand carefully in his, he caressed my fingers. Belowdecks, a little conductor sat up with a jolt. Hey, there’s some good-looking guy stroking our knuckles. Respiration, quit lollygagging. Endocrine, get cracking.

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  I glanced desperately toward Laney. “Not dreaming,” she murmured.

  I nodded uncertainly and turned back toward Julio.

  His eyes crinkled endearingly at the corners. “And you are incredibly brave.”

  I turned toward Laney.

  She gave me a “Could be true” shrug.

  “Kind.” Bending over the bed, he gently kissed the tender skin beside the needle. The conductor cracked his baton over Endocrine’s head. “And very, very wise.”

  Laney raised a brow and tilted her head. I decided to ignore her from there on out.

  “I called your office. Your secretary said I could find you here.” He looked sad again. If his eyes were any more expressive, he could save his mouth for things more important than speech. “I came by to apologize. Had I been half so noble as you, your head would not ache as it does.” Reaching out, he skimmed his knuckles across my brow. “I am sorry. I should have told the police that which I knew, but I was too much the coward.”