Whispers in the Wind

by Veronica Giolli

  Floyd hopped onto Barry’s lap and purred like a diesel engine, which made them burst out laughing. She discussed with him going to the police on Monday. Feeling relaxed, they were quiet.

  Barry started talking, “You know, you kept all those things that happened to you and Rita to yourself. Remember when we promised to tell each other everything? No secrets, remember? I need you to talk to me, and to stop thinking I’ll go to a bar every time there’s a problem. I need to get a grip on myself. I can do that.”

  “Well, we get a second chance. But it doesn’t just poof and go away. It’s something we have to work on.”

  “I know you’re right. But you need to trust me to be able to cope with the tough stuff.”

  She moved closer to him. “I know. I’ll try.” He put his arm around her.

  “Hey, I’m out of cigarettes. Come with me to the store.”

  She went to the closet for their coats. He came up behind her and grabbed her around the waist. He picked her up and kissed her over and over.

  “We better go before I do something else.”

  “That’s okay too.” Playfully, she pushed him toward the front door.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Victor walked Rita to her front door. “Thanks for the movie.” She stood on her toes to plant a peck on his cheek. “And the popcorn.”

  “No … thank you.” Victor smiled at her. “This was fun. Maybe we can do it again.”

  She nodded and turned to put the key in the door when she heard a rustling in the bushes beside the porch. Probably the neighbor’s cat.

  As she turned around to tell Victor good night, he slipped his arm around her and kissed the top of her forehead, then brought his lips down and kissed the end of her nose. With his finger he slowly outlined her lips, before he ran down her throat, and quickly kissed her cheek. “Good night,” he whispered. That was unexpected. He made her tingle all over.

  “G … g-good night,” she murmured, and he drove off into the night.

  She had turned to go in when someone stood up out of the bushes. Goose bumps rose on her arms. “Jesse! What on earth are you doing hiding in my bushes?”

  He jumped up on the porch. “I watched you with that creep,” he slurred. “First Gina, and now you.” Whiskey vapors rose from him.

  She opened the door to go in. He grabbed at her, caught her blouse by the shoulder and, stumbling to the side, ripped it. Rita slapped him. “Hey, stop it. You’re drunk.”

  A car rumbled to the curb. Victor’s GMC pulled up. He turned off the ignition, ran up the stairs, grabbed Jesse by his shoulders, and swung him around. They started throwing punches. Victor hit him in the jaw and Jesse countered with a fist to the stomach, then threw a punch that missed and went to the side of Victor’s head. They regrouped and attacked again. Victor shoved Jesse, who landed on his back.

  “Stop it, Jesse. Victor. Stop, you two,” Rita shouted.

  Jesse hollered, “I just wanted to talk to you about this creep.” He coughed and wiped his face. “I lost my wife to him. I don’t want to lose you too.” Victor nailed him. Jesse fell and Victor leapt on him. Huffing and grunting, they rolled on the concrete porch. Blows kept going.

  Rita screamed at Jesse, “You never had me. We’re only friends. Nothing else. Now get out of here.” She bent to push him off Victor but wasn’t strong enough.

  Just then, Sunny and Barry drove up the driveway. The car screeched to a stop and they jumped out. “Stop it, both of you!” Sunny ran up the steps, trying to grab at either one of them. “Stop it, I said, or I’ll turn the hose on you.”

  Barry bounded up the stairs behind Sunny. With the strength of a wrestler he pulled Jesse by the back of his shirt and tossed him off the porch.

  Jesse got up, shook his head, and brushed off his pants. He turned to Victor and smirked. With the bottom of his shirt he wiped the blood off his nose and face, rolling his eyes. He turned tail and staggered off.

  Rita hugged Barry. “Dad, I’m so glad to see you!”

  “What the hell?” he asked, looking at the two guys. Rita explained what happened.

  “Looks like we arrived in just in time,” he said. He shook Victor’s hand and Victor winced. Barry looked closer at Victor’s scraped, bloody knuckles.

  “Come inside and wash up,” Sunny said.

  “No thanks, I’m fine. Jesse was too drunk to get a good punch in.”

  “Well, thank you,” said Sunny, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re her knight in shining armor.”

  “What made you come back?” asked Rita.

  “You left your scarf in my truck. I looked back and saw Jesse on the porch, grabbing at you.”

  Barry and Sunny walked into the house, leaving Rita and Victor outside.

  Rita said, “I’m lucky you came back when you did.”

  Sunny could hear Rita and gave Barry a nudge. “I think this relationship is going further than she thinks.” She smiled and they moved to the couch.

  “What the hell is going on here anyway? Were Jesse and Victor fighting over Rita?” Barry settled into the cushion while Sunny got sodas.

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  He popped the can. “They aren’t teenagers. These are grown men, for God’s sake.”

  Rita came in and plopped onto the recliner. “Victor left. Glad he didn’t get hurt. Man, that was crazy. I don’t know what got into Jesse.”

  The phone interrupted. “I’ll take it in my room. You two probably want to talk,” Rita said, raking a strand of hair off her forehead. She glanced at her torn shirt. “Damn. This was my best blouse.”

  “Wow, I’m glad I came when I did. What if Rita’d been hurt? Jesse’s crazy, especially when he’s fueled by booze. He better slow down or it’ll catch up to him. I’m glad I’ve made my decision to quit,” he said.

  “Me too.” She raised her soda can to touch his in a toast. “Rita was right. We do need to talk. You need to know everything that has gone on.”

  “C’mon, let’s talk in bed.” He took Sunny’s hand and led her into the bedroom.

  Sunny smiled and looked at Barry, who turned to face her, resting on one elbow. She put a cover over her legs and caught Barry up on everything, including the car-ramming and Madam Carmen and her last conversation with Gina.

  Barry’s eyebrows drew together. “You both could have been hurt. In fact, you may still be in danger. Before I left I warned you to be careful. Why didn’t you tell me all of this when it happened?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “No, you thought I’d run to the bar. Admit it. Hiding things won’t work. We have to work together.” He took her hand.

  “Maybe. I feel this is a new beginning for both of us.” She held his hand tight. “You know, I never missed drinking after I quit. I never think about it at all. If you’re serious about giving it up, then I’m going to give up my cigarettes. Again. They stink now, anyway.” She smiled and wondered if this was all true would it last? All her worries were about the drinking. Should she reconsider everything and believe him? He’d have to still prove it.

  Later, they joined Rita at the kitchen table. She brought them coffee and chocolate cake. “Dad, I’ll say it again. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  He smiled and took a big bite of cake. “Me too.”

  “You make me feel safe,” Rita added.

  “I’d think that Victor guy does that for you too,” said Barry.

  Sunny nodded. “Your dad and I had a long talk. He wants to give up drinking, so I’m giving up smoking.”

  Rita jumped from her chair and ran around the table to give him a big hug. “That’s wonderful. I am proud of you.”

  “My family is more important than the alcohol.” He returned the hug.

  Rita moved Floyd out of the way. “I know, let’s go out tomorrow night and celebrate. We all need it.”

  Sunny drank the last of her coffee. “And deserve it.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot, Jesse called and apologiz
ed for ripping my blouse.”

  Sunny put her cup down. “Well, he should. He was way out of line.”

  “Somehow Eva came up in the conversation and he said he thought she’d been drinking and driving because her front bumper on the car was all banged up. She has to be the one who hit us.”

  Barry grabbed juice from the fridge. “Sounds like it,” he said.

  “That does it! I’m going to the police Monday morning. I put the piece of cardboard I taped the papers on in my car. I’ll gather up everything else I have in my notebook to show them.”

  “Do you want to go now? I can go with you,” Barry asked.

  “No, I’ll wait ’til Monday. The tribal police chief doesn’t work weekends unless there’s a crisis.”

  “Okay, Monday.”

  SUNDAY MORNING

  It was a lazy morning for the Davises. Sunny smiled as Barry wolfed down his pancakes and Rita read the Sunday paper. This was her family; this was what she wanted.

  Suddenly Rita gasped. “Look at this. Here! This picture.” She laid the paper on the table and jabbed at it with her finger. The picture showed Lee, Rita’s ex-boyfriend. He’d been arrested for embezzling from the casino where he worked. He and his girlfriend, Cathy, had been under surveillance for a few weeks. “Thank God I got away from him. I never had a clue. He was always borrowing money from me … and the casino, I guess. No doubt that’s how he bought his condo.”

  “Amen to that,” said Sunny.

  Barry folded the paper. “It’s been a while, but they might check back to when it started and question you. You might have to testify. Let’s hope not.”

  “I can’t believe it.” Rita bit her bottom lip. “What else is going to happen?”

  Barry folded up the sports section. “It’ll be fine.”

  Over breakfast, Barry suggested they go to Rita’s salon and help her clean up whatever was left from the break-in. Rita had decided she’d close the shop this Sunday and give her stylists a holiday.

  First, Sunny needed to take the rental car back. Barry would follow her. After she paid and left the Hertz office, she got in their car and gave Barry a kiss.

  They went back to Rita’s house. Rita was in her room changing into sweats. Sunny got hers and Barry’s sweatshirts and Levi’s. They were ready to go to work at the salon.

  Sunny got a pail with cleaning solution and headed to the bathroom to clean the windowsill. This latest event frightened her. She thought about how Rita could have been hurt. This was too much. She didn’t know how much more they could take. Someone was trying to scare the bejeezus out of them, but who, and why? Unfortunately, whoever it was was succeeding.

  The police had left black fingerprint dust all over the window and ledge. While the window was open, a breeze came up. Surprised, Sunny drew in a breath. “Gina, is that you? I need you.”

  I’m with you. I want to help you.

  Then all was quiet. The wind had stopped.

  Sunny opened the window wider, leaning to look outside. “Gina …”

  In the meantime, Barry and Rita took plastic buckets from the cupboard and poured bleach and water into them. Barry got a mop and Rita used sponges to clean the hair color off the floor. As he mopped Barry asked Rita, “The police took a report, right? Damn, something weird is going on here and it’s getting too dangerous.”

  Rita finished sponging off the counters and cabinets. “Yeah, they were very nice. I also informed them of the other stuff that’s happened to me and Mom. So the report has been done.”

  Sunny had finished cleaning the black dust and walked into the supply room. “It’s lucky they broke bottles of the light colors; that’s easier to clean than the dark dyes.”

  Barry wrung out the mop. “I think we’re finished here. We did a good job, kiddo.” He put an arm around Rita. “Now that it’s all done, let’s go home and change clothes. We can go for a nice dinner at Chez Françoise. It’s close to the house. Your mom’s treat.” He winked at Sunny.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Barry opened the carved wood door with etched glass in its upper half. Sunny and Rita walked in with him and waited for him to give the maître d’ their name. Looking at her husband and daughter, Sunny was happy to be with her family, especially tonight after working together at Rita’s salon. They’d dressed up, Barry in his black pants, gray-and-white striped shirt with his silver eagle bolo tie and gray suit jacket; Rita wore her long black skirt and black sweater with a long white sweater vest; Sunny felt relaxed and comfortable in her brown midi and white sweater. She looked around the restaurant, while following the movements of the maître d’. She liked the flagstone fireplace burning piñon logs in the dining room’s center. It cast a warm glow and a woodsy aroma. The decor was black-and-white and silver—cozy yet classy. They were shown to their seats and given menus.

  “Nice,” Barry said.

  The waiter, a cute kid with flashing eyes and a Colgate smile, took their drink orders. He couldn’t stop looking at Rita.

  Rita whispered to Barry, “Will it bother you if I have a glass of wine?”

  “Of course not,” he answered. “I never liked wine.” They laughed.

  Sunny smiled and Barry ordered iced tea. She wondered how long his sobriety would last. Could he do it? She had. Of course, she hadn’t drunk like he did … or had she?

  Rita spoke. “Dad, are you fine with me going to dinner next week with Gerald?”

  “Sure, it’s no problem. Besides, you’ll get a free meal.” He chuckled.

  “Your dad is in his jokester mood tonight.”

  When their order came the waiter flirted like an Italian with Rita. Sunny wondered if that was part of his training to wait tables at Chez Françoise. Passing out the meals, the waiter’s elbow knocked over her glass of merlot; the dark red wine shot across the table onto Sunny’s white sweater.

  The young waiter turned redder than the spilled wine. He rushed off, more upset than she, and returned with a towel. She dabbed and blotted the stain, which didn’t help. Sunny felt sorry for him. “Don’t worry. I’ll just go home and change. We’re nearby.”

  The owner/chef hurried over and apologized, using hand and shoulder gestures. “Excusez-moi, madame. We will pick up l’addition—um, ze check—for ze dîner de famille.” He was as French as the escargots à la bourguignonne on his menu.

  “Thank you. I have to go get this wine out before it sets in.”

  “Certainement. And we weel pay also for ze dry cleaning.”

  Barry rose. “I’ll drive you, hon.”

  “No. Sit down. Stay here with Rita and keep her company. It won’t take long. Give me your keys. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

  “Are you sure, Mom? We could all go.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll change and be right back.”

  Ten minutes later when Sunny pulled into the driveway the porch was dark. “I thought we left the light on.” Rushing up the front steps, she was surprised to see Floyd outside by the front door. Fear streaked up her back. How did he get out? Why did he get out? He’s a house cat—hates the outdoors.

  “What are you doing out here?” She stooped down and picked him up. He purred in her arms. “I bet you’re cold.” She turned to look behind her and rubbed the scruff of his neck. Floyd jumped down while Sunny fumbled with her key. As she opened the door he rushed inside.

  She followed right behind the cat. The inside was dark too. She was positive she’d left a lamp on. The one by Rita’s recliner. Fear hammered her heart.

  She flipped the wall switch beside the front door. Nothing. Goose bumps rose on her arms. The power must have gone out. But that wouldn’t explain Floyd being outside …

  A familiar yet out-of-place fragrance hung in the air. Stumbling to the side table, her foot caught on something. She reached for the lamp and turned the knob. Again, nothing. Her hand moved to the light socket. Empty. Terror whipped through her. Her legs felt like lead. Her mind went in a hundred directions at once.

  She shuffle
d over to the wall so she could get behind the chair, and pressed her back against the flat surface. Standing still, holding her breath, listening for any noise, she tried to regain her calm. She heard nothing until the refrigerator clicked on, startling her. She gasped and jumped. That proved that the power was on.

  She pushed her back against the wall and listened. Was that breathing she heard? Was it hers? Was her mind playing tricks? Could there be a rational explanation? What’s that? It is breathing. Someone’s in the house. Sweat ran from her neck down her back. She strained to listen. The sound of breathing was faint, but the out-of-place fragrance intensified. Floyd hissed. Now her eyes were getting used to the dark and she was able to see inside the room from the streetlight.

  Her mind went wild. She had to get to the front door. She held her breath and inched in that direction. Sweat dripped down the side of her face. Her bra was soaked. She didn’t have to listen anymore. Someone was definitely here. Was it one person, or two? What was that smell? It seemed familiar. Perfume? After shave? She couldn’t think straight. Was she surrounded? What did they want? Her brain was racing.

  She held her breath and made her way toward the open front door. Before she could reach it, someone slammed her to the floor, knocking the breath out of her. She lay gasping for breath as the intruder ran through the kitchen and out the back door.

  Sunny attempted to push herself up when a gust of wind whirled around her legs, giving her the boost she needed.

  I’m here.

  Gina! The back door banged against the kitchen wall as Sunny ran out the front and stumbled off the porch. A patrol car was parked at the corner, under the streetlight. Scared shitless, she took off running down the sidewalk and banged on the cop’s car window. The patrolman got out and looked at her over its roof.

  “What’s going on?” He leaned forward and peered at her. “Don’t I know you?” It was Officer Boyle.

  “Yes,” she wheezed. “My daughter’s slashed tires, at the casino, remember? Officer, I just went home to change my sweater.” She stood taller and pointed at the red wine stain and continued talking, breathless and hurried. “Someone was in the house. I heard breathing, the lights had been turned off. And the cat, who never goes outside, was on the front porch when I got there. Must have been tossed out by whoever was in the house. I heard him … her … them … run out the back door, after I got knocked down. I don’t know if it was one, or more.” Her throat was dry. She could hardly talk.