The Woman Who Couldn't Scream

by Christina Dodd

  “Even in her bedroom?”

  Kateri could hear him squirming. “Even in her bedroom.”

  “She’s got … in there, she’s got … it’s red satin and there are these … toys…”

  “I don’t expect you to enjoy it. I expect you to do it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” For once, Sean Weston sounded subdued.

  She cut the connection and softly, with Lacey on her heels, made her way into Rainbow’s room.

  Dr. Frownfelter and the nurses were turning away from the bed.

  Kateri could hardly speak for grief and remorse. “Is she gone?”

  “The crisis is over. She’s stabilized once more.” Dr. Frownfelter patted Kateri’s shoulder. “She wants this life. I wish I could help her.”

  One by one, the nurses left the room, and each of them patted her, too.

  Alone with Rainbow, Kateri went to the bed once more. And cried.

  * * *

  Kateri drove with Lacey to City Hall, turned off the car, stared at the entrance, then started the car again and drove to the harbor, to the Coast Guard office. She parked and with Lacey on her heels, went in, and just … stood there.

  The tsunami had swept away the old Coast Guard headquarters. She had never worked in this building. But in a glass case on one wall, a series of miniatures told the history of the Coast Guard in Virtue Falls. Kateri wandered over and saw the representation of the tsunami, recognized a tiny Kateri doll and saw, beneath the giant waves, two glassy green eyes peering up. Somebody had respected the Native American legend enough to represent the frog god in the story. Which was nice, but those eyes were real enough to make Kateri remember why she no longer went too close to the ocean. To see that cold, enormous face once more would freeze her soul with fear. Even now, years later, the memory sent a shiver down her spine.

  Petty Officer Tyler Kovavitc came out of his office and welcomed Kateri with a grin. “Good to see you again, Sheriff Kwinault! I imagine you’ve come to talk to Commander Luis about yesterday’s incident on the docks.”

  “Sure. Of course. That makes sense. That’s why I’m here.”

  If a dog could snort, Lacey did it.

  Kovavitc took Kateri and Lacey to an open door and ushered them into Luis’s office. “Sheriff Kateri Kwinault to see you, sir.”

  Lacey realized who sat at the chair behind the desk, gave a yip and raced around to greet Luis.

  Kovavitc added, “And her dog.”

  Luis looked up from his paperwork. “Baby, it’s so wonderful to see you!” He dropped to his knees and came up holding Lacey. To Kateri, he said, “You, too, Kateri. Come in! You must have read my mind. I was just finishing up this report.”

  Kateri sat down in the chair in front of the desk and started to lie. “Yes, I came to hear the…” But she couldn’t finish. “I wanted to be somewhere I felt at home.”

  Luis smiled and he honest-to-God looked pleased. “You feel at home here?”

  “I do. My twenties were spent trying to be the best Coastie I could be. I’m not that person anymore, but I remember how much I loved the job and the camaraderie. If the tsunami hadn’t changed our world, I would still be here, and gladly.”

  “I’d be glad if you were still in this chair.” He rubbed Lacey’s head, then placed her on the floor. “I’m proud to be the commander, but…”

  “I know,” Kateri said. “I am so tired of being…”

  He finished her sentence. “In charge.”

  Kateri remembered now why they had been friends. They completed each other’s thoughts.

  Lacey trotted over and sat on Kateri’s feet.

  Luis said, “We had some overnight developments. We got a distress call from Bardsey Island.”

  “Ruth Blethyn’s place?” In Kateri’s opinion, nothing was more unlikely. Kateri remembered Mrs. Blethyn as English, stout, organized, dignified and wealthy.

  “Right. Turns out Mrs. Blethyn has a secret life. She’s a ‘friend’ of John Terrance’s.” Luis used air quotes.

  “You are kidding.” Only too well, Kateri remembered John Terrance’s appearance. Scrawny, smelly, with greasy hair, dirty fingernails and that nasty leer that showed off teeth that had seldom seen a toothbrush.

  “He appeals to her ‘wild streak.’” More air quotes.

  “Like … you mean … she … they…” Kateri wanted to plug her ears. “I don’t want to think about that.”

  “She believes that deep down inside he’s ‘a good man worth saving.’” Yet more air quotes.

  “She’s an educated woman. It’s not like his appearance is the worst part of him, although it’s … ew. Ruth Blethyn and John Terrance. He hates women! Not just me, all women!”

  Luis suspended his air-quoting fingers in midair. “I’m not arguing.”

  Kateri continued as if he were. “She has a PhD in psychology. Does she know what this says about her?”

  “He just ‘needs the right woman.’” Eye roll and air quotes. “He showed up at her house with buckshot in his ass. She removed it for him. He was worried someone—land-based law enforcement, the Coast Guard—was going to track him. So she carried him away to her private island to canoodle.”

  “Canoodle?” Kateri laughed. “Her words?”

  Luis looked surprised at himself. “Actually, my grandmother’s. But that was the meaning. Mrs. Blethyn was vague on the details, but I do believe there was some canoodling, also some food and drink and fresh clothing. Then he stole her boat and left her stranded on the island.”

  Sarcasm spilled from Kateri. “I’m stunned that he would betray his lover in such a manner. You’d think she could recognize his character. Or lack of it.” Then she realized—who was she to mock? She had talked with Stag, slept with Stag, allowed him to scold and care for her. And she still hadn’t known him. Pain twisted her heart.

  She must have gotten an expression on her face, because Luis asked, “Ribs hurt?”

  To her horror, she burst into tears.

  Luis leaped to his feet and shut the door, came back and dug around in his desk drawer and produced a box of tissues. He offered them to her. “What’s wrong? Did Stag get mad because you announced you two were in a relationship?”

  She shook her head.

  “This is about Stag, isn’t it?”

  She nodded.

  Luis knelt before her. “What did that bastard do?”

  “He was nice about the relationship. And I…” She cried harder.

  He put Lacey into her lap. “What did you do?”

  “Asked … accused…”

  “Accused him of what?”

  “The shooting.”

  “What shooting?” Luis’s voice dropped to a hush. “At the Oceanview Café?”

  Kateri nodded.

  Lacey sighed.

  Luis’s voice got loud. “What in the hell were you thinking?”

  “That … he…”

  Luis didn’t wait for her to stammer through her words. “He wouldn’t work with an amateur like John Terrance.”

  “If he … shot law enforcement … his life would be”—Kateri took a long breath and wailed—“easier.”

  Luis was unrelenting. “Are you kidding? If Stag Denali wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

  She nodded. Apparently everyone knew that. Except her.

  “As it is, he wants you alive so he can bang your brains out. All the time.”

  And she was here to testify that he was good at it. “How do you know … anything?”

  “It’s logical. You got a guy who’s been in prison for murder. I’d guess a rough early life, learned a lot of skills necessary to survive. He could get a job anywhere doing enforcement, legal or otherwise, or obtain a ‘position’ as a stud for Ruth Blethyn”—more air quotes—“or work at any number of lucrative jobs. He showed up in Virtue Falls, the piddly-poop outback of nowhere, and he’s working as financial wizard on the rez in Virtue Falls for their new casino. I figured he’d move on as soon as he got the funding set up.
Makes sense, right? Then he comes after you. Specifically after you. He sleeps with you and all of a sudden, he’s construction superintendent on the site, working all hours, living in an apartment over the flower shop that’s so small he bumps his head on the hood when he uses the stovetop. And you don’t know if he loves you?”

  “Loves me?”

  Luis handed her another wad of tissue. “I used to think you were smart. Then you turned me away and that was the first nail in that coffin.”

  She laughed explosively. And cried some more. “Last week I had won a brutal election for sheriff and I was on top of the world. Now I’m wounded, women are being slashed, I can’t catch the fugitive who shot up the Oceanview Café, I tried to kill Rainbow—”

  “You … what?”

  “Tried to help her. I did it wrong. Then I screwed up with the one man who…” She couldn’t continue. She didn’t have the breath. Leaning forward, she wept into Lacey’s fur.

  Luis waited until her crying had calmed a little, then handed her a bottle of water. “What are you going to do about getting him back?”

  She remembered Stag’s expression when he kissed her on the forehead. That was farewell. “He doesn’t want me back.”

  Luis snorted. “Yes, he does. You might have to crawl … But you can fix it.”

  Easy for him to say, and considering his track record … She wiped her eyes and her nose. She took a sip of the water. “Speaking of a screwed-up situation, how’s Sienna?” His girlfriend, the woman who had gone out of her way to show Kateri that Luis was hers, even going so far as to fake a pregnancy.

  Luis stood up and sat on his desk. “I really did break up with her. I’m a Coastie through and through. Sooner or later I’ll get transferred. Sienna put down roots here and now she’ll never leave. You be careful, Kateri. She’s a smart girl, and ruthless. Before she’s done, she’ll own Virtue Falls and be mayor, and she’s got it in for you.”

  “Goodie. Another challenge.” Kateri leaned back in the chair and pressed her hand over her swollen eyes. “Let me try to sort this all out. John Terrance managed to find someone to remove the shot from his butt, stole a boat—another one—and landed somewhere along the coast?”

  “When we were transporting Mrs. Blethyn back to her home on the mainland, we found the boat adrift. No John Terrance.”

  “Right. So we can assume he’s still alive and holed up somewhere waiting for his next chance to get his revenge on Virtue Falls for a thousand real and imagined slights. Plus—you have once more become Virtue Falls’s most eligible bachelor. Plus—I’m an idiot.”

  “Nice summation. That covers it.”

  She put Lacey on the floor, hauled herself to her feet and tossed the wad of tissue into his trash. “Thanks for the news, the talking-to and the bottle of water. Now I have to go speak sternly to my sister about breaking and entering.”

  That made Luis stand up straight. “I didn’t even know you had a sister, much less a larcenous sister.”

  “Not larcenous in the usual sense. But determined to get what she wants.” Kateri’s voice wavered. “Luis, I’ve missed having you as a friend.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  Spontaneously, they hugged.

  Unexpectedly, Kovavitc opened the door. He stared, coughed and said, “I thought you two were broken up!”

  “We are.” Kateri stepped out of Luis’s arms. “He was telling me I’m an idiot. In a loving way. Like a brother.”

  “Geeze, Sheriff Kwinault, why don’t you just cut off his balls?” Kovavitc had a way with words.

  Kateri saw Luis’s pained expression and backpedaled. “What I meant to say was I could no longer refrain from flinging myself into Commander Sanchez’s arms, but he nobly fought me off and gently told me we could never be one.”

  “Yeah … that didn’t help. He’s still a nutless wonder.” Kovavitc turned to Luis. “Commander, Mrs. Blethyn called to report her car as stolen.”

  The radio on Kateri’s sleeve vibrated.

  Bergen said, “Sheriff, we’ve got a call from Garik Jacobsen at the FBI. He has the report you’ve been waiting for.”

  Luis and Kateri faced off with each other, then each gave a nod and she walked toward the exit, Lacey on her heels.

  When she was out the door, Luis turned to Kovavitc. “I deserve a fucking medal for what I just did. I convinced her that she needed to convince Stag Denali they were the ideal couple.”

  “You still want to bang her?”

  “Yeah.”

  Kovavitc punched him on the shoulder good and hard. “Wow, man. You are a nutless wonder.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  The trouble with police work was that it was so damned unreliable. One week it was all slashings and car chases and break-ins and confrontations and murders. The next week, you were handing out speeding tickets and earnestly explaining the danger of crossing the street against the light.

  That sucked, especially when Kateri had a moping dog, a sister who refused to admit to breaking and entering and yet always managed to find Kateri no matter where she hid, a worrisome FBI report, no lover in sight and way too much time on her hands.

  Thank God it was Thursday evening. She asked Moen if he wanted to go with her to the quilting group, grinned at his horror, and waved a cheerful farewell to the thoroughly bored and testosterone-soaked police station.

  The Scrap Happy Stitchers, a group of ten to twelve regulars, usually women, met in the library, an old hardware store that had survived the earthquake and now housed books, children, maps, crafts, computers, toys, women, men, teenagers … After the tsunami, Kateri had been physically unable to continue in the Coast Guard. Coast Guard policy had put her through a court-martial for the loss of her vessel, and when she was cleared she was medically retired with pay and benefits. So … she became the town librarian. Because no one else wanted the job. Because the pay was crappy. Because she was handicapped and in pain, and the job didn’t require too many hours.

  She had learned who lived in this small town, what they thought, who they loved, what they hoped and dreamed and did. Her command at the Virtue Falls Coast Guard had prepared her to lead, but her time at the library had given her insight into the people.

  Now in its third year and under Mrs. Golobovitch’s direction, the Scrap Happy Stitchers patched together quilts for church sales, charity functions and to show at the county fair. They also talked, listened, gossiped, advised, suggested and fought. And ate. They ate whatever anyone else made or bought and loved it, because they didn’t have to prepare it themselves.

  Tonight was Kateri’s night to bring snacks, so she headed to the Oceanview Café to pick up the sandwich plate she’d ordered. She walked in; the place was packed. Locals, tourists … everybody but their local dysfunctional genius, Cornelia Markum. Kateri walked up to the counter where Mr. Caldwell, the meanest old man in the world, sat hunched over a cup of coffee. “Hi, Mr. Caldwell, where’s Cornelia?”

  Mr. Caldwell lifted his morose gaze from the counter. “That bitch of a new waitress told her she wasn’t going to fix her weird pie every day and she was sucking up all the Wi-Fi, and Cornelia left.”

  “Linda? Said that to Cornelia?”

  Mr. Caldwell slid an evil glance toward the thin, blond waitress as she whipped around the restaurant with a coffeepot. “Why don’t you ask me what she said to ol’ Setzer?”

  Kateri looked around. His three friends from the old geezer table were nowhere in sight. She leaned her elbows on the counter and quietly asked, “What did she say to Mr. Setzer?”

  “She used that ‘nails on a chalkboard’ voice of hers and told him she was tired of having his baggy old ass taking up a chair a paying customer would use, and from now on he could get his coffee elsewhere.”

  Kateri straightened up. “Dax owns the place. Can’t he do something?”

  “Are you kidding? Dax is a pushover all the time, and right now, he’s a blubbering mess because he’s in love with Rainbow. Not that I k
now why, Rainbow never gives it to him.”

  “Unrequited love,” Kateri suggested.

  “Right. Like a teenager. So between Dax crying in the soup and the tourists taking every seat, Linda’s got this place held in her iron fist.”

  “What about you?”

  “I actually am mean enough to take up a bar stool for an endless cup of coffee. Not that I can get coffee. She won’t serve me anymore.”

  “Not a problem, Mr. Caldwell. I’ll serve you.” Taking his cup, Kateri whipped behind the counter. She dumped out the old, cold coffee, rinsed the cup, poured it full of the fresh brew and put it on the saucer in front of him.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Here she comes.”

  Linda arrived, her blue eyes snapping. “Sheriff Kwinault, you are not allowed behind the counter.”

  Kateri batted her brown eyes at Linda. “Poor Mr. Caldwell’s coffee was cold, and there are so many people in here, I knew you needed the help.”

  Out of the corner of his mouth, Mr. Caldwell said, “Well done. She’s speechless.”

  But not for long. Linda’s voice went up an octave. “It’s illegal for non-kitchen staff to go behind the counter!”

  “I won’t arrest myself. But since I have your attention, Mr. Caldwell needs a slice of pie. With ice cream. Right, Mr. Caldwell?”

  Mr. Caldwell was no longer hunched over his coffee. He was gloating over it. “That would be wonderful, Sheriff Kwinault.”

  “I am not serving that old stool-sitter,” Linda snapped.

  “Are you refusing service to a man because of his age?” Kateri contrived to look shocked. “I’m afraid that is a much more serious crime than me illegally serving coffee.”

  “I’m not refusing to serve him because of his age. He hangs around all the time, his bony old hands clutching that one cup—”

  “Mr. Caldwell, are you not paying?” Kateri asked in her most scolding tone.

  Mr. Caldwell put his hand on his chest. “Every day.”

  “One cup,” Linda said. “He pays for one cup. And he wants endless refills!”

  “Which is what the menu offers. As a customer, elderly or not, he has that right. Now, he’s asking for pie and ice cream. Is that a problem?” Kateri saw the moment when it clicked with Linda that she was overmatched.