Confused by Shadows

by Geonn Cannon

  "Are you finished?" Rebecca asked.

  "Yes, Mrs. St. John," Jodie said. There was still a trace of laughter in her voice, so Lance felt comfortable walking away. Jodie waved good-bye. "Tonight about nine."

  "Nine it is. It was nice seeing you again, Mrs. St. John." Lance stuck her hands into her pockets and went back the way she had come. When she reached the gate, she saw Clarence standing aside to let a pair of men inside. The men were a study in almost perfect opposites; the large one in front was white, with frighteningly blond hair and ice blue eyes. The other man was black, slender, with eyes like cigarette burns.

  The blond man spotted her, lifted his chin to get her attention, and gestured over Lance's shoulder. "Excuse me. Is Rebecca St. John back there?"

  "Yeah."

  They continued on without another word. Lance looked over her shoulder at them as she walked. She didn't know if they worked at Sinjin's or whether she should worry about Jodie's safety. She was sure the security officer wouldn't let anyone dangerous through, especially not the way he had bristled about her trying to get through the gate. Still, something about the men made her uneasy.

  She watched until they disappeared around a curve and then turned away. Whatever it was, she was sure Jodie could handle herself.

  #

  Lance spent the rest of the day getting her apartment fit for public viewing. She stowed the dirty clothes in the closet, wondering how she had spent so much time living out of a duffel bag. Ten minutes before nine, she had gotten the living room into a semblance of cleanliness when a shape blocked the hallway light coming from the open front door. Jodie stood with her fist poised to knock on the frame, and smiled when Lance turned. "Hi. I'm early."

  "No, you're right on time." She stood up and said, "Come in."

  Jodie looked freshly showered and wore a tight red T-shirt with a faded white logo on the chest. Her hair was down and, when she turned to examine the room, it fell to cover her eyes. She brushed it back and then stuck her hands into the pockets of her jeans. "So this is where Carmen Landry retreats at the end of the day. The Batcave."

  "Yeah," Lance said. She shut the apartment door and brushed Jodie's arm. "I'm glad you made it."

  "Wouldn't have missed it," Jodie said, echoing Lance's earlier words.

  They kissed without either of them making the first move, just a spontaneous touching of lips. When they parted, Jodie smiled and said, "I'm going to get used to that. Fair warning."

  "I am warned. Here, sit."

  Jodie moved to the couch and dropped onto the cushions.

  "How was the reaming?"

  "Not as bad as I expected. Like you said, what does she know about racing? Can I take my shoes off?"

  Lance nodded and Jodie bent down to unlace the sneakers. "Do you want something to drink? I have soda, milk...water."

  "Ice water. I've been feeling dehydrated all day. Typical post-race thing with me."

  "Sure." Lance went into the kitchen and filled a glass with water. She miraculously found some ice cubes in the freezer and dropped them into the glass as she carried it into the living room. "I'm out of ice, but there's plenty of water if..." She trailed off when she saw Jodie had slumped over. Her cheek was resting on the arm of the couch, pillowed by her arm, and she was snoring softly. Lance sat next to her and touched her arm. "Jodie? Jodie, wake up. Are you okay?"

  Jodie blinked her eyes open, realized what had happened, and breathed deep. "God. Sorry. I'm, uh..." She sat up and blinked rapidly. "Sorry. I don't usually fall asleep like that, and now I've done it to you twice."

  "It's fine. It's not something more, more serious?"

  Jodie chuckled. She took the glass and said, "I don't have narcolepsy, if that's what you're asking. No, I just happen to fall asleep after very busy days. And it seems to only happen in your presence. I wonder if that means anything." She pursed her lips and sipped her drink.

  "That I'm a very boring person."

  Jodie nudged Lance's leg with her own and put the glass down on the coffee table. She stared at the ice swirling in the water and blurted out, "Can I spend the night here?" She waited a second, eyebrows raised, before she looked at Lance. "You don't have to say yes. I just want you to know that I want to."

  "Jodie..."

  "Too soon. I understand. I'm sorry."

  "No, it's not that."

  Jodie looked at her. "What is it? You seem to like me. I really like you. And...I...want you. I want you, Carmen, okay?" She was breathing hard. "I'm out here on a limb. Do you want me, too?"

  "Yes." The word rode out on a sigh.

  "Then what is it? Please."

  Lance leaned back against the couch cushions. "I can't spend the night with you until you know more about me."

  "What else is there to know? You're funny. You're attractive. I love being with you. Today I learned that I really love kissing you. So, what? What could possibly change the way I feel about you?"

  Lance stared at the blank screen of the television and let the words come. "My name isn't Carmen Landry. My name is Claire Lance. And I'm wanted for murder."

  #

  Chapter Ten

  There was a disbelieving smile on Jodie's lips, but her eyes were wide at the possibility Lance was telling the truth. She shook her head and said, "I'm sorry. Your name is what?"

  "Claire Lance. I was a cop in Chicago. I was undercover. A drug dealer I was investigating figured out I was a cop and took me prisoner and killed my girlfriend. He made it look like I did it. I ran rather than let them put me in jail for her murder. I refused to take the blame for..." She looked down at her hands. "I ran. They chased me. The FBI agent in charge of chasing me down is her sister."

  "Jesus." Jodie laughed, stretching the word out to four syllables. She ran her hands over her face and slumped back against the couch. Her shoulder was touching Lance's, but she was staring out the window.

  "I've been on the run for two years now. Recently, I decided to stop. I came here. I wanted to try and make a new life, someplace where I could hide. I created a life, I got a job. All I planned to do was make friends. I never...if I thought I would fall in love with someone—"

  Jodie held up a hand. Her eyes were sparkling with tears now, and Lance could barely focus on anything but them. Jodie turned away, closed her eyes and shook her head. Lance stopped talking and gave her the time she needed. Jodie faced the wall, chin in hand and fingers on her lips. She shook her head as she let what Lance said sink in.

  Finally, Jodie stood up and said, "I need to think. And I can't do it with you sitting here watching me."

  "Okay."

  "No, not okay. Not okay at all. I completely understand why you stopped me today. Thank you for stopping me from making a huge mistake."

  Lance felt like she'd been punched in the heart. Jodie started for the door and Lance stood up, watching her go with a weight like heartbreak pressing down on her chest.

  When Jodie opened the front door, Lance said, "Wait." Jodie stopped, but didn't turn around. Lance stayed where she was and stared at the back of Jodie's head. "I took a huge risk telling you what I just did. I gave you enough ammunition to go downtown, tell the police where to find me, let them take me back to Chicago in chains. If I was smart, I'd pack up right now and leave. But I'm not going to. I'm going to sit in this apartment and wait for you to come back. You trust me enough to fall fast asleep next to me. That kind of trust is instinctual, damn it. Remember that. Please, Calico. Please, Jodie."

  Jodie reached behind her without turning around and closed the apartment door. Lance dropped onto the couch, stared at the ceiling, and growled, "Fuck."

  #

  Lance opened her eyes and waited for a repeat of the noise that woke her. She was sitting on the couch, curled against the arm that Jodie had slumped against a few hours earlier. She pushed herself up and looked around the dark living room. She was about to get up to go to the bathroom when there was a second knock on the door. She stood up and hurried around the corner of the
couch, heart pounding. Whoever was on the other side of the door, it would change her life. For better or for worse.

  She opened the door, holding her breath and looked out into the dimly lit hallway.

  "You're going to think I'm an idiot," Jodie said, "but I can't, for the life of me, remember what you said your name was."

  "Claire. Claire Lance."

  "Claire," Jodie said, trying it out. She hugged herself, hands cupped under the opposite elbows, and looked down at the floor. "I left my shoes here, Claire."

  Lance turned and looked at the couch. "Oh." She crossed the room and found Jodie's sneakers where she had kicked them off. She picked them up by the backs, dangling them off two fingers as she carried them back to the door. "Sorry."

  Jodie took her shoes. She looked at them and said, "Thanks."

  "No problem."

  Lance cleared her throat and tried to think of a way to ask Jodie what she was thinking. A folded bag stuck out of the tight hip pocket of her jeans, a quarter of a doughnut shop's logo visible above the denim. Her eyes were puffy, either from sleepiness or tears or both. "I should go. It's really late."

  "Okay."

  "Here's the thing," Jodie said. "Carmen Landry and Claire Lance? Not that different. Just different names. I wasn't thinking that Carmen Landry the Non-Fugitive was pretty, I was thinking the woman I was with was pretty. I didn't want to go to bed with Carmen Landry, I wanted to go to bed with you. The woman who covered me with a blanket and kissed my eyebrow and made me feel loved for the first time in who knows how long. How dare you try and tell me I don't know you. I know you, okay? I just didn't know your fucking name."

  Lance blinked at her. "I'm...sorry. Do you want to come in?"

  "No," Jodie said. "It really is late. I'm sleepy."

  "Do you want to come in to sleep?"

  Jodie looked up at her. She drew in a breath and then nodded her head. "Uh-huh. Yes." She stepped into the apartment, dropped her shoes next to the door, and rubbed her bare arms as Lance closed the door. "It's cold out there," she said, her voice suddenly meek.

  "Do you want something warm to drink?"

  "No. I just want to go to bed."

  Lance pointed to the bedroom door. They walked through the living room together and Lance turned on a lamp in the bedroom. She pushed back the blankets and sat on the edge of the mattress to take off her blouse. When she turned around, she saw Jodie standing with her back to the bed. She lifted her shirt and let it hang around her neck as she unfastened her bra. She dropped the lacy black underwear to the floor, pulled her shirt back into place, and undid her jeans to reveal the same black panties she had worn for her aborted striptease. Jodie turned and said, "Do you have a preference? Side of the bed, I mean?"

  "No," Lance managed to say.

  Jodie climbed onto the mattress, pulled the blankets over her legs and lay back against the pillows. Lance turned off the lamp and, in the darkness, everything seemed more real. She lay down and Jodie pressed against her side. "Jodie..."

  "We can cuddle, right? I'm a close sleeper."

  Lance put her arm around Jodie and pulled her in. "Okay, yeah."

  Jodie put her head on Lance's shoulder and said, "Good night, Claire."

  Lance felt the tightness return to her chest, but she took a deep breath and forced it away. Only a select few women called her Claire rather than Lance. It was more than a preference, it was an intimacy. She turned her head and kissed Jodie's eyebrow. "Good night, Jodie. I'm glad you came back."

  "I'm still undecided," Jodie said.

  "That's okay. Take all the time you need."

  Lance stared at the ceiling and listened to the slow sounds of Jodie's breathing. She turned her head and buried her face in Jodie's hair, and breathed in, trying to figure out what kind of perfume Jodie wore. She chuckled quietly when she realized it was the smell of old coffee and stale doughnuts. Hardly romantic.

  Jodie was a weight on Lance's arm, warm breath on her chest. Lance barely remembered what it felt like to share a bed with someone. She was terrified at what it meant. She moved her hand over Jodie's body, exploring curves and soft flesh. She looked down at the top of Jodie's head and felt tears in her eyes. I didn't want to fall in love. I truly didn't. She bent down and kissed Jodie's hair.

  Jodie sighed in her sleep and Lance closed her eyes. She was sure that she wouldn't be able to sleep. The presence of another woman in her bed would be enough to keep her mind racing until morning. A few minutes later, she joined Jodie in slumber.

  #

  A woman was lying on top of her.

  It wasn't an unpleasant sensation by any stretch; just one Lance had grown unaccustomed to. Memories of the night before came back to her as she opened her eyes, focused on the sunlight streaming through the window. Sunday, she thought. Garage is closed. Satisfied that the obligations of being a grown-up wouldn't force her out of bed, Lance turned and looked at the woman lying on top of her.

  Jodie's head was on Lance's breast, her right leg hooked over Lance's hip. She had pinned Lance to the mattress during the night, her hands raised in surrender on either side of Lance's body. Lance wasn't sure how long she watched Jodie sleep, but suddenly Jodie stirred. She turned her head, face against Lance's collar, and inhaled through her nose. She looked up, blinking sleep-bleary eyes, and Lance saw the night coming back to her as well.

  "Hi," Lance said.

  "Mm," Jodie murmured. She brought one hand up and pushed her hair out of her face. "Claire, right?"

  Lance smiled. "Yeah."

  Jodie pushed herself up and rolled off of Lance. "I need a bathroom. And a shower."

  "I have one of each."

  Jodie smiled and pushed the blankets off. She stood up and tugged her T-shirt back into place. She was just slow enough that Lance caught a glimpse of the dimples in the small of her back, the slight dip of her spine in the middle of her back. Jodie stumbled on her first step, then remembered how to walk and went into the bathroom.

  Lance sat up and pushed her hair out of her face. "Towels are under the sink."

  "Okay," Jodie called.

  Lance waited until she heard the shower running before she got undressed. She chose a pair of blue jeans and a black T-shirt and wondered if Jodie would want breakfast. If so, she would have to cook something to have the necessary conversation without worrying about eavesdroppers. She padded barefoot into the kitchen and checked her fridge. She was wondering whether half a box of old Chinese food and a TV dinner could constitute breakfast when the shower shut off. "Is there a breakfast place that delivers?"

  "Toledo's," Jodie said from the bedroom. She appeared in the doorway wrapped in a towel, her shoulders wet and shining in the sunlight. Lance was caught speechless, but Jodie didn't seem to notice. She pushed her hair out of her face. "Can I borrow some clothes? I just feel grungy if I wear—"

  "No, it's okay."

  "Thanks," Jodie said. She pushed the door until it was only open a crack. Lance turned her back so she wouldn't be tempted to peek. She found the phone book and flipped through until she found the listing for Toledo's.

  "Oh, hey, don't call for breakfast."

  "Are you sure?" Lance said.

  "Yeah." Jodie came out of the bedroom wearing black slacks, a black tank top, and a white blouse that was just a bit too long for her. Her fingers stuck out of the unbuttoned sleeves as she pulled her wet hair into a ponytail. "I was thinking we could go out for lunch and then head for Seattle."

  Lance frowned. "Seattle?"

  "The Seahawks game," Jodie said. She leaned on the counter. "Unless you don't want to go."

  Lance closed the phone book. "No. I still want to go. If you do."

  "Well, I'm not going to let the tickets go to waste."

  "Jodie, last night—"

  "I know what happened last night. I got to thinking about it. You never really lied to me. Daphne is the one who told me your name was Carmen Landry. You may not have told me the truth, but you didn't lie to me about who yo
u were or where you came from. When it mattered, you came clean."

  "You only have my word that I'm telling the truth."

  Jodie smiled. "You wouldn't sleep with me under false pretenses. I find it very hard to picture you killing someone."

  "I've killed people," Lance said.

  Jodie's smile wavered, but she lifted a shoulder and shook her head. "Killing someone who doesn't deserve it, then. They think you killed your girlfriend?" She pointed to the bedroom. "The woman who just spent the entire night holding me in her arms without taking advantage of me wouldn't do that. You can pretend all you want, Claire...Lutz?"

  "Lance."

  "Whatever. I don't care. You can pretend I don't know you all you want, Claire Lance. But the fact is I know you pretty damn well. And I happen to like you. Now are we going to have some lunch and go to the football game, or am I going to have to kick your ass?"

  Lance struggled to keep from smiling. "I guess I don't really have a choice, do I?"

  "Damned right." She slapped the counter and looked down at her sleeves. "I need to stop by my apartment for some clothes. And to let Danica know I didn't abandon her."

  "Probably wise," Lance said. "I'm going to hop in the shower and then I'll be ready to go."

  Jodie nodded and Lance went into the bathroom. The tub was still wet from Jodie's shower, and Lance put the thought of a wet, naked mechanic out of her mind. She took the fastest shower of her life and decided to let her hair air-dry. She looked at her reflection in the fogged over mirror and saw no hint of the haunted woman she was when she first moved into the apartment. Maybe she was finally leaving that ghost behind, once and for all.

  She dressed and returned to the living room. Jodie sat on the couch, leaning forward to look at something she held with both hands. "Have you been snooping?" Lance asked playfully.

  "Yeah. Kind of. Accidentally." She turned and held out Elaine's photo. "This is her, isn't it?"

  Lance wanted to snatch the photo from Jodie's hand, but couldn't bring herself to move. She swallowed hard and said, "Yeah. Elaine."

  "She's gorgeous."

  "Yeah."

  Jodie reverently placed the photograph in the middle of the table and looked down at it. "I'll take care of her, if she lets me."