Hostiles

by Ethan Johnson

  “I, uh, haven’t seen that season yet,” Diane muttered.

  “I’m quite certain I have no idea what you mean by that,” Alexa said.

  Lady Diamond raised her hand to take control of the conversation. “The point being, Miss Pembrook, men are useful. And the greater our ambitions, the higher we must aim to achieve them. Take Brent Moorcroft, for example. Alexa is a beautiful, intelligent woman. Suffice it to say she could take her pick of any man—or woman—she desires. Why Brent? What did he have that Jackson didn’t?”

  “I, uh, don’t know,” Diane said.

  “He was the closest to Alexa in station,” Lady Diamond replied. “True, he was the richest man in Cape May, but Alexa is far wealthier. All things being equal, who else was she going to screw to take control of PDX? Chet Franklin?”

  Alexa guffawed, to her surprise and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, but that’s hysterical.”

  “Well, no. I mean, Chet Franklin was laid up after being shot by that guy who said he had the artifact, and—” Lady Diamond pressed her finger to Diane’s lips and shushed her.

  “We are not here to discuss the finer points of the goings-on in Cape May,” she said. “We are talking about using men for our strategic advantage. Look at us, Miss Pembrook. Look at me. Now look at Alexa. You see how we present ourselves. Have you seen me without makeup on? Have you seen me wearing anything but expensive gowns and impossibly high heels? Have you seen Alexa without a hair out of place?”

  “Besides when she was poisoned?” Diane turned to Alexa, who looked bewildered. “I mean, uh, no, never.” As Diane recalled, Alexa looked stunning even in her death throes.

  “We are bait,” Lady Diamond said simply. “But we’re not after the little fish. All the little fish know they don’t stand a chance with us. They stare at us like slack-jawed idiots and create their little fantasies about what they’d do if they got us alone for five minutes, but deep down, they know we’re far, far out of their league. You’re not there yet. You’ll inspire some determined small fry with above-average confidence to take a crack at you. You will crush him into dust and make an example of him for the others. They’ll help you attract the right predators. Powerful men who will smell blood. Not yours; theirs. They will know you’re not content to settle for the small fish. They will know you mean serious business.”

  Diane glared at Lady Diamond. “I always mean serious business.”

  “Then do your worst,” Lady Diamond said defiantly. “That’s your homework. The next time I see you, I want to see improvement in your strut, and I want to hear about a man you used and what you took from him.”

  “I don’t have any heels like this,” Diane said sullenly.

  “You do now,” Lady Diamond said. “And the dress, too. My treat.”

  Diane stepped forward to hug her. “Oh, my God, thank you.”

  Lady Diamond stepped backward and shook her head. “My pleasure. As for your makeup, that’s another matter altogether.” She gave Alexa a dismissive wave, then summoned Miss Coco. “It’s time to send Ms. Charlevoix on her way. If you’re good, maybe you’ll have dinner together someday. If you’re bad, you’ll have fun stories to trade.”

  Alexa kissed Lady Diamond’s cheek, then clasped Diane’s fingers. “Best of luck, Diana. I’ll be thinking of you.” A single tear slid down Diane’s cheek as Alexa departed.

  Lady Diamond put her hand on her hip. “Tch. Let Miss Coco get that clown show off your face. She is going to teach you how to do it yourself.”

  “I don’t have any makeup either,” Diane said. Lady Diamond cocked her eyebrow at her and smirked. Diane nodded slowly. “Oh. Right. Thanks again.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Lady Diamond said. “I leave you to your instruction. No dinner until I’m told you can do your own Wisteria Sunset.”

  “My what?”

  Miss Coco applied a damp cloth to Diane’s face once Diane was seated. “No more talking. I’m starving.” Diane nodded and grunted through the cloth. Lady Diamond was the best teacher she’d ever had, in Diane’s view. Certainly the most generous. She closed her eyes and reveled in the time she spent with Alexa Charlevoix, live and in the flesh. Lyssa would never believe this, she affirmed. Then again, she thought, Lyssa could never give her this. Who else but Lady Diamond could?

  Diane returned to her apartment well after midnight. She stripped off her dress and heels and collapsed on her bed. She tried not to think about how little sleep she’d get before going back out on patrol. Her thoughts were a swirling mess. Nothing could take root and become a full idea, or memory. She saw flashes of Alexa Charlevoix. She felt Alexa’s breath against her ear. She felt her hands on her shoulders. She saw Lady Diamond step forward seductively, her bare leg slipping through a gap in her gown, her glamorous high heel tapping down on polished wood. Diane scrunched up her nose at the memory of Miss Coco brushing on layers of eye shadow.

  An unwelcome sound filled her ears next: her alarm clock buzzed urgently beside her. Diane picked up the clock and pressed buttons until the noise stopped. Another alarm sounded, this time from her living room. Diane forced herself up from the mattress and stumbled into the living room. Her monitor flashed a persistent green light in the lower right-hand corner. Diane fumbled with her remote and pressed a blue button marked with an envelope icon.

  Kernan appeared on the screen. His glasses seemed to float over the bridge of his nose. He smiled and nodded. “Ah. Good morning, Miss Pembrook. You have a visitor.”

  Diane rubbed her eyes and frowned with uncertainty. “Who?”

  “She said, and I’m quoting verbatim, ‘She’ll know.’ Perhaps that is not the case?”

  Diane ran her fingers through her unkempt hair. She? I’m not expecting anyone, she thought. Especially not at… “What time is it?”

  Kernan registered a look of surprise at the question. “Almost 6 o’clock, Miss Pembrook.”

  Diane reeled. “At night?”

  “No, in the morning. Shall I inform your guest to return at a more opportune time?”

  Diane shook her head. “No, send her up.”

  “I’m afraid that isn’t possible. She insists on remaining down here in the lobby. Perhaps you can find something appropriate to wear and join us?”

  Diane looked down at her bra and panties. She was mortified at being exposed in front of Kernan. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” She flitted away from the monitor.

  Kernan shook his head and raised a forgiving hand. “Occupational hazard during off-peak hours,” he said. “No need for alarm. I do recommend covering up when visiting the common areas.”

  “Roger that, Kernan. I’ll be down in a second.” Diane threw on her dress and heels from the night before and immediately regretted it. Her feet ached once more. Her dress hung awkwardly and clung in places that made her question whether it could be considered coverage. Diane made her way down to the lobby and walked steadily toward Kernan’s desk. She was intercepted by Lyssa, who rose quickly from a padded sofa.

  “Diane? You seem… different.”

  “I, uh… long story. You won’t believe any of it.” Diane stepped forward to kiss her. “I missed you so much, baby.”

  Lyssa turned her cheek and took a step back, bumping her calf into the sofa. “Not here,” she said coldly.

  Diane nodded. “Let’s go upstairs to my place. We can catch up there for a bit.”

  Lyssa shook her head and crossed her arms tightly. Diane noticed Lyssa had lost some weight since being stuck in the hospital for God knows how long. “No, we can’t. My parents are going to take me home in a few minutes. They don’t want us where they can’t see us.” Diane looked over at Lyssa’s parents, who stood beside a LED panel advertising the Tracy’s Mark Steakhouse, glaring at the two of them. A TM brand burned a steak, sending wisps of smoke up the center of the panel. “And frankly, Diane, I don’t either.”

  Diane nodded and sat in a chair perpendicular to the sofa. She leaned over to speak to Lyssa in low tones. “What’s
wrong, baby?”

  Lyssa coughed up a sarcastic laugh. Her eyes widened as she replied. “What’s wrong? Are you freaking kidding me right now? I almost died!”

  “I know, baby, and I’ve been praying night and day for you. I tried to see you, but your Mom and Dad—”

  “Protected me from you,” Lyssa said. “I can’t believe you tried to poison me. I mean, if you really want to break up, just say so. What did I ever do to deserve getting murdered by the love of my life?” She wiped a tear from her pasty cheek. “I thought you loved me.”

  Diane reeled. Her stomach fluttered with surprise, guilt, and anger. “I did. I do. How can you ever think I would poison you?” A woman walking to the fitness center cocked her head and frowned at Diane. Diane dispatched her with a scowl, then softened her features and lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “You have no idea what I—”

  “I know what I was shown, Diane,” Lyssa said, loud enough to attract attention from curious onlookers. “You didn’t have the guts to break up with me, so you spiked some stupid chocolates that weren’t even any good and left me to die. I spent weeks in the hospital, and you never once came to see me. You never called, no flowers…” She wiped her cheek again. “Nothing. Like I was dead enough already.”

  Diane tried to shush her but was rebuffed. “I did too! I was there every day for a week, Lyss. Honest. You can ask your parents. They told me—”

  “They told me you never showed up. None of the nurses said you came by either. I finally stopped asking when I got the hint. I guess I was right to start moving on.” She curled her upper lip in disgust and gestured to Diane’s dress. “After all, you did.”

  Diane looked down at her dress and heels, then shook her head emphatically. “No, no, no, sweetheart, you’ve got it all wrong. You’d crap your pants if you knew where I got this, and who gave it to me. I spent the whole night wishing you were there too. Let me explain what really happened. Let me show you how badly I missed you.” She reached out for Lyssa’s hand, who swatted it away.

  Lyssa’s parents rushed toward them. Mr. Delaney got there first. “Keep your damned hands off my daughter,” he said, his eyes flashing with fury.

  “Come on, Dorrie, let’s get you home,” Mrs. Delaney said, casting a wary eye on Diane.

  “Please,” Diane said, wiping her eye with her knuckle. “Let me explain. It’s not like you think.”

  “Get the hell away from us,” Mr. Delaney said. He helped Lyssa to her feet and escorted her toward the front entrance with Mrs. Delaney squeezing Lyssa’s other arm. Tears streamed down Diane’s cheeks as Lyssa was led away without ever once looking back.

  Diane retreated to the elevator and cried alone in the cabin. She looked up at an advertisement for Lourdes Jewelers. The ring she hoped to buy for Lyssa sparkled on the screen, spinning over the ghostly image of two mouths meeting to kiss. That dream is over, Diane thought bitterly. Lyssa might as well be dead.

  After all, she mused as the elevator pinged when it reached her floor, the only way they could ever be together was over their dead bodies.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Diane stripped off her dress and stuffed it into her locker. It was rougher treatment than it deserved, she conceded, but she couldn’t be bothered with fussing over expensive clothes. She dropped her heels on top of it and slipped on a white undershirt. As she buttoned up her uniform shirt, she exhaled and nodded. This was what she could handle. The rough blue material under her fingers as she fastened each button. The heft of her utility belt as she buckled it once her trousers were pulled on. The gloss of her standard-issue uniform shoes. This is what she was made for. Not dressing like… she didn’t know what. Mabel called women she didn’t like hores, Diane recalled fondly. She didn’t know what a hore was, but they usually wore spiky heels. Diane frowned at this. Lady Diamond was no hore.

  Was she? Diane chewed her lip as she weighed the evidence. Lady Diamond wore stunning clothes and dramatic makeup, and she was awful generous, Diane noted. But she also said to use men. That seemed to mean having sex with them to get something. Getting people to give you stuff by having sex with them wasn’t how she liked to do business. She had a job, after all. If she wanted something, she could pay for it.

  Diane’s head throbbed as she explored this line of inquiry. The women Mabel called hores… were men paying them for sex? Diane didn’t think so. Mabel made it sound like the women would have sex with anyone and everyone. Diane rubbed her head and tried to make sense of it.

  Diane spent most of the morning briefing trying to decide if Lady Diamond was a hore. She looked around the room at the few female officers on duty. They wore the same uniform she did and conservative makeup. Their hair was almost always in a tight bun. Diane ran her fingers through her ponytail and wondered if she should put hers up too.

  Her deep thoughts continued in the cruiser. Hathaway was deep in thought too, or he just hadn’t had enough coffee yet to get going, Diane noted. She studied people on the sidewalk as they rode on patrol and tried to figure out who the hores were. She figured Mabel had more experience spotting them.

  Hathaway sipped his coffee and grunted. Diane turned to him, recognizing this as his way of starting a conversation during a long silence. “We’ve got to be sharp today, Pembrook. I think something big is about to go down.”

  Diane smiled and patted her sidearm. “Bring it on.”

  Hathaway grimaced and shook his head. “Negative. I don’t mean some wild west shootout. I mean something terrible. I’m not sure what’s brewing out there, but it’s not going to end well.”

  “Like what? Gang war or something?”

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know.” He took another sip of coffee. “I mean like Arbor Day. I mean, God forbid we have another one. But something like that. Something horrific.”

  Diane groaned. “Un-fricking-believable.”

  Hathaway glanced at her sharply. “What is it, Pembrook? Something going down?”

  “No,” Diane said. “I mean, like you said, God forbid we have another Arbor Day. That was messed up.”

  “Sure… that’s not exactly how I would describe it, but, okay. Anyway, I don’t know if we’ll be much good against whatever it is driving around in circles all day, but who knows. I’m just saying, Pembrook, stay sharp.”

  “I’m on it, partner,” she said, trying to sound cheerier than she was capable of being. Diane turned her attention to the sidewalk. A woman with spiky heels walked past the cruiser. “Hore,” Diane muttered.

  Hathaway spat his coffee up and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, just thinking about something I heard once. Not about you.”

  “Good to know, I think. People don’t usually call us guys whores.”

  Diane decided to take a calculated risk. “Oh? Who do they call that then?”

  “Well, prostitutes, mostly. Or women who turn them down.”

  Mabel didn’t seem the least bit interested in women, Diane thought. Maybe she was lashing out at others because of her own desires not being met? “Wait, don’t hores get paid to have sex? Why would they turn anyone down?”

  “It’s a pejorative term, Pembrook. You know, like sluts? Whores? I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you, of all people.”

  Diane’s jaw dropped. “Me? You think I’m a freaking hore?”

  Hathaway raised one hand apologetically. “No, God no, Pembrook. Take it easy. I meant, I mean, you’re a woman, right? You’ve probably heard all that for flippin’ years, man, the way girls talk crap about each other. That’s all.”

  “Oh,” Diane said, “okay. Gotcha. Yeah, we really go at it sometimes.”

  They rode in silence for a few minutes, then Hathaway cleared his throat. “Hey, uh, Pembrook, listen: If anything like Arbor goes down, I just want you to know I’ve got your back, okay?”

  Diane tipped her head at him. We’re partners, ain’t we? Diane scrunched up her nose at the thought. She was relieved not t
o have said that out loud in front of Lady Diamond. “We’re partners,” she said simply.

  “Right, partners. When people think it’s their last day on Earth, that stuff can fly out the window real quick, you get me? I need you to know I’m not like that.” Hathaway gave her a hard stare before turning his attention to the road.

  “I get you,” Diane said. “I’m not like that either. I’ve got your back too.”

  “I appreciate that, Pembrook.” Hathaway had a catch in his throat as he spoke. He shook his head and put on a brave front. “You have no idea.”

  “I do, actually. Let’s just say that I’ve been stabbed in the back enough times that—” Diane turned to the side window and reached for the door handle. “Aw, crap. Hit the lights, partner, sorry.”

  Before Hathaway realized what was happening, Diane leapt from the cruiser and slammed the door behind her. A man wearing a long brown coat gave another man an elaborate handshake, capped off with a smile and nod. “See you next week,” the first man said.

  Diane pushed him against the wall and pulled his right arm behind his back into a hammerlock. “And I’ll see you in jail, Caprese.”

  “Officer Pembrook. What’s a nice girl like you doing on a street like this?” Dino Caprese’s right cheek pressed into the weathered brick wall of a corner market.

  Diane snapped her cuffs onto his right wrist, then his left. “Taking out the trash,” she hissed.

  Hathaway rushed to her side. “Pembrook, what’s this about? You can’t just cuff people for no reason.”

  “Preachin’ to the choir, officer,” Caprese said. “How’s about you call off your attack dog, huh?”

  Diane pulled Caprese away from the wall and turned him around. “How about we toss you back in jail for good this time? How did you get out so fast?”

  “I know people,” Caprese said. “People who understand how things get done around here. People who will just spring me again after you file your little report. If you let me go, I’ll forget this ever happened, and we both get on with our lives.”