A Marked Man (10 page)

“I am scared to my bones,” Wazoo said. She peered around the old-fashioned kitchen. “Lil isn’t here, is she?” she said as if expecting Lil Dupre to emerge from one of the white-painted cupboards that reached from floor to ceiling.

“No,” Cyrus said. “Lil is never here in the evenin’.”

“Whew.” Wazoo swept the back of a hand over her brow. “Now you know how I detest gossip.”

He and Madge said, “Mmm,” in unison.

Wazoo made circles on the table with the base of her glass. She drank slowly and licked her lips. “There’s something bad goin’ on in this town. More than one bad thing. Could be more than two.”

Cyrus sat back in his chair and pushed his hands into his pockets. “If you think there’s something I can do to help, you know I will.” Millie didn’t move.

“It wasn’t easy to come to you,” Wazoo said. “If I wasn’t worried sick about those Devol men I wouldn’t be here. Except I should see what we can do about Annie. Now there’s a woman who could turn into a tragedy if we don’t get lucky.”

“Wazoo—”

“It’s all wound in with those Savage brothers. Max, anyway. I tell you, them who’s supposed to keep us all safe ain’t doin’ much of a job ’cause they’re all fouled up with they own problems. That is, some got problems, some only think they got problems. Hoo-ya-ya.” She wound her head slowly from side to side. “Question is, who’s at the top of the list? Who’s most likely to get ruined first? I’ll tell you—this is one heavy burden.”

Madge had turned her face to the black window and stared at nothing. If he dared, Cyrus would take hold of her hand. They lived so close to, but so distant from each other. For too long he had begged her to make a life with someone who could be what she wanted a man to be for her, but she insisted she had chosen to be as near to him as he would allow. Madge wanted what little they could have together and refused to consider changing courses.

And Cyrus went to battle daily, wedded to his vocation, loving Madge in a celibate relationship that tore him apart.

“You were praying for someone who’s missing,” Madge said. “I could tell.”

Wazoo slanted a glance at her. “And you could be right. But I’ll get to that. I don’t like to make any trouble but it would be good if someone who spends time here didn’t repeat things they overhear.”

Cyrus lifted Millie and gave her to Madge. “If you don’t have something definite to say, don’t say anything.” He didn’t need more of Wazoo’s nonsense tonight.

“That’s all I’m sayin’ about it, me. Except you could make a big mistake if you look for this one in the most obvious place. If it’s mentioned again, it won’t be by me, no sir. The Devol men are makin’ fools of themselves over somethin’ I can’t repeat, but they’re makin’ themselves miserable. They’re gonna make all kinda people miserable before long.”

“You can’t say what the problem is, but you want me to do something about it?” Cyrus could feel Madge’s awkwardness and he was tempted to tell Wazoo that office hours were over.

“All you gotta do is tell Homer and Spike—not together though—tell them that you know a person told Homer a lie about him and Spike and they should forget it. Me, I don’t want Vivian upset when she’s this far gone with the baby, and she could be. She’s doin’ well, except in her mind sometimes. If you set it all straight, they’ll listen.” Wazoo crossed her arms tightly. “They won’t believe me, that’s what I’m sayin’.”

The phone rang and Madge got up to answer. “Rectory,” she said. Then, “I’ll tell him you need him in the mornin’. Night, Spike.”

Wazoo’s lips parted. She stared at Madge, clearly waiting for her to say why Spike wanted Cyrus in the morning.

“Thanks, Madge,” he said quickly. “I’ll be there.” He didn’t even ask the time Spike wanted to see him. He and Madge shared an understanding glance.

“I don’t think I can talk to Homer and Spike,” Cyrus said. “Even if I knew what you were talking about, I wouldn’t interfere.”

“You’ll have to in time. Longer you wait, worse it’ll get. Was Spike calling because that woman’s gone missing? The nurse or whatever she was? They gettin’ up a bigger search party?”

This wasn’t the first time Wazoo had shown uncanny insight into something she shouldn’t know about. “If that’s true,” Cyrus said “who told you?”

“You gonna have to work it out.” Wazoo drained her glass and got up. “Me, I made the big mistake comin’ here. That Max Savage could be a real good man, but how can I be sure? He’s gettin’ tight with Annie.”

“You’re not making much sense,” Cyrus told her.

Wazoo clicked her fingers. “Concentrate. That dead woman came to see Max. Now she’s gone.”

“Please don’t say she’s dead.” Hugging the dog close, Madge looked horrified. “We haven’t heard that and you don’t know it. She could have decided to run away. That happens all the time.”

“She didn’t run away. I know what I saw. There was…There was pain and terror, and he didn’t care.”

“That’s it.” With his skin getting tighter by the moment, Cyrus pushed to his feet. “Are you sayin’ you saw Michele Riley murdered? And you saw who killed her? You should be talking to Spike, not me.”

“I’m askin’ you to believe I saw somethin’ awful. Someone else saw it, too, but it’s not my place to tell that story. And when I say I saw, I don’t mean I was standin’ there watchin’. No, sir, it come to me real quiet—until the screams started. I didn’t see faces, but I knew who she was. I’m still workin’ on the other one and often as not I don’t get what I ask for specific.”

Pacing, struggling to decide if he should brush this off as another Wazoo flight of fancy, or encourage her to keep confiding in him, Cyrus looked at her each time he turned.

“You a good man,” she said, real low. “I’m askin’ for too much. You can’t make a leap into my world, any more than Madge can.”

“We can’t be sure some people don’t have special gifts,” Madge said, not so much as glancing at Cyrus. “You’ve known things other people didn’t before. Not that I’m saying I can accept that completely, but I’ll always listen to you.”

He went back to the table and braced his weight on locked arms, looked down at Wazoo. He couldn’t form an opinion as quickly as Madge had. “Why are you worried about Annie spending time with Max?” At least he could deal with something straightforward.

“I said I might be,” Wazoo said, but she looked concerned. “He’s a surgeon and he’s opening that clinic people will come to from all over. Should be above question. Me, I question. Spike met Max at Hungry Eyes and I could tell they didn’t have no pleasant chat. Then, when everyone else had cleared out but Max Savage and that Bobby, Max got real mad at the other one for what he said about Annie. But I can’t repeat what he said.”

Cyrus pushed his hands into his hair. “Bobby? Who is Bobby? Gimme some clear hints about what’s going on here. You’re scared out of your mind.”

“Wazoo ain’t never scared. I’m worried, is all.” She plucked at a violet ribbon threaded through the lace bodice of her dress. “I thought Max was goin’ to hit that Bobby. I don’t know who he is except he said he’d known Annie for a long time, and he said a lot of other stuff. Max walked out and I know he didn’t take his car. I reckon he walked around the back of the square and found a way in to visit Annie.”

“What’s Annie’s phone number?” Cyrus asked. He stood straight again.

“Don’t bother with that,” Wazoo said and passed him a crumpled piece of paper with a number on it. She smiled with one side of her mouth. “I brought it in case we needed it.”

“What am I supposed to say?” Looking at the phone keypad, Cyrus searched for an excuse. “Got it,” he said and punched in the number.

After five rings Annie answered, “Hi.”

“Father Cyrus,” he said. “This mornin’ we said we’d get together for a chat but we didn’t set a day and time.”

Annie thanked him and said she’d call him in a day or two.

“You’re sure you’re doing okay, then?” he asked, not feeling so happy at showing off his ability to fabricate, even if it was for a good cause and not entirely untrue.

“I’m just fine,” Annie said. “Thank you.”

When he hung up Wazoo spread her arms wide and laughed loudly.

“What?” he said. He looked to Madge who suddenly remembered her wine.

“You told a fib,” Wazoo said. “The two of you didn’t really agree you was gettin’ together.” She wiggled a forefinger at him.

He grinned. “Not exactly, but close.”

“Now,” Wazoo said, “about Homer and Spike…”

“Okay, okay.” Cyrus said. “I’m going to talk with Spike. But I don’t know if I’ll say anything personal. You agree with me that he’s got a steady head and nobody wants to solve this disappearance more than he does?”

“I guess. Unless it’s her boyfriend. I heard tell he’s gettin’ here in the mornin’.”

“Who told you that?”

“I can’t say.”

“What can you say?” Cyrus asked.

Millie had slid from Madge’s lap and now she squealed pitifully beside Wazoo until she got swept up.

Wazoo breathed in deep and long. “The only thing I can tell you is I’m not the only one who saw a woman buried headfirst in the ground. And I saw fire, just like someone else did. The other person’s suffered a long time because evil was done to her. Now it’s bein’ relived and I’m pickin’ up on that. I’m not sayin’ I like it but I don’t have no choice.

“I don’t know who did that to Michele Riley, but if we can’t find out, Annie could end up burned and buried somewhere. Don’t even ask why I think that.”

A few miles away a man heaped charred remnants of logs and brush together and pushed them into bags. He checked around, studied the way the trees grew around the area. The crowns of live oaks, lush with Spanish moss, bunched heavy and black against a metallic sky. No breezes eased the sultry pressure that mixed with sweat to drip from his skin.

This was a good place, really good. Exactly what he needed was here in abundance.

He smelled phlox, faintly because the scent of burning still hung around. He had seen the purple blossoms on a previous visit. In the trees, berries grew all over tangled vines. Vines were something he had to watch for.

The bags were full and he hauled them to a spot where he made a pile. He made his way out to the road, to his car, and exchanged the shovel for a rake, then sprang back the way he’d come. He used the rake to scatter any minute remnants of singed material.

It was done. Again. He returned to the car, opened the driver’s door and sat sideways on the seat. Surgical gloves had purposes some would never think of. He snapped off the pair he wore—and bent to pull off blue shoe-covers. Time to get rid of the last pieces of evidence.

T
he doorbell rang.

Oh, no, Annie thought, she wasn’t going down there. The clock showed a few minutes before five in the morning. She didn’t need a talented imagination to visualize Max waiting outside in the darkness.

If she couldn’t forget last night, and pick up where she’d been before meeting Max, she couldn’t stay in Toussaint. She didn’t intend to leave, so…There would be no more days when she kept him company while he ate lunch—not that Max was likely to want her to. He wasn’t likely to go near Pappy’s.

That was it.
Annie pulled the sheet over her head. She would never forget him, probably not for a single day, but she would cope and move on.

She had a dream, a goal, and cracking up over an infatuation could only get in the way.

This is more than infatuation.

The doorbell rang, a little longer this time.

Had to be Max.

Throwing herself on her face, she folded the pillow over her ears. They’d had sex, strange but powerful sex, and she had leaped away from him the instant it was over. Penetration had hurt at first, but not for long enough to make her want to stop. For at least an hour afterward she had stayed in the bathroom—what a surprise to discover he’d left when she finally came out!

He wouldn’t come back. Not after the way she’d treated him. But someone was trying to get to her.

If it was important, she had a phone—and maybe she should use it to call 911.

Annie would not go downstairs.

The bell rang in repeated short bursts. Determined knocking on the door followed.

Her phone did ring. She sat up and looked at it, then snatched it up. “Yes?”

“I’m a tired man,” Max said. “Can I come up? You don’t have to talk to me, just let me use your spare bedroom.”

“Did you lose your keys to Rosebank?” She sounded mean. She felt mean, and sad, and confused.

“I can’t show up there, now.”

“Where have you been?”

“Just driving around.”

Annie wasn’t soft, but she couldn’t ignore him. “Okay.” Hanging up, she swung her feet from the bed and grabbed her white silk robe. She pulled it on and tied the belt tightly while she went down the stairs. At the bottom she saw a familiar, tall shadow through the glass.

Annie opened the door.

Wearing dark beard stubble and with his curly hair on end, Max stood with his arms hanging at his sides, feet braced apart and an inscrutable expression on his face.

She stood aside and he came in. He followed her upstairs and she said, “You know where the other bedrooms are. Take your pick and make yourself at home, please.” Her eyes stung and her skin smarted—and unless she sucked in her bottom lip, it trembled.

Max couldn’t even figure out why she’d let him in at all—unless she wasn’t ready to chuck him. He could hope. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking at her slim figure from the back. She looked nice in white silk.

“Fine. You?”

“The same,” he said.

Sure, he needed a bed but he needed some answers from Annie first. After everything seemed so amazingly good between them, something had gone horribly wrong and he intended to make sure he hadn’t caused her real damage. He thought he already knew how pummeled her emotions were likely to be.

He didn’t think it was all his fault, but he’d played his part. Max almost laughed at that. Once inside the apartment, he closed the door. “How come Irene’s not on guard duty?” The lighter he could keep things, the better.

“She’s in bed, like most sensible creatures.”

“Annie,” he said. “Can we talk?”

“No. If you hear me in the mornin’, wait till I’m gone before you come out.”

With her arms crossed, she stood close to the wall and looked at her bare feet, as if waiting for him to choose one of the spare bedrooms.

“What happened to us?” he said.

She didn’t answer.

“Why did you bleed?”

He heard her suck in a breath. Her eyes looked into his, but briefly, just long enough for him to see shock.

Damn, they had bad timing. “Okay, I’m sorry I was blunt.” He crossed pristine carpet to sit at one end of the couch. “I had to make sure I hadn’t hurt you badly.”

“No,” she said, too quietly. “I didn’t know anythin’ had happened at all.”

Max looked at her over his shoulder. “Were you a virgin?” His pulse thudded.

Annie put her face in her hands and slid down the wall until she sat on the carpet, her head on her knees.

Shit.
He scrambled across the room and sat on the floor beside her. He rubbed her back and at least she didn’t try to stop him.

He massaged the tight muscles in her neck. “I’m a liar, Annie. I don’t just want a place to sleep. I came because I had to see you. You couldn’t have thought I’d ignore what happened.”

So still, so quiet. Sitting like this, not having any idea what she was thinking, tore him up.

“Annie,” he said quietly. “The way we made love was something new to me. You were incredible.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said. “But thanks for the compliment, I think.”

He put his mouth close to her ear. “I’m not making anything up. Take it or leave it. But I want more of whatever that was.”

She gave him a tight little smile.

Her back heaved but she turned silent again. Might as well lay it all out. “Then there’s the visit to St. Martinville. After you found me, you flipped. I need to know why and on this one I’m not giving you any breaks. This is about your health. When we get through talking—then it’ll be time for sleep.”

Annie tried to go limp. At most other times, his fingers on the back of her neck would have relaxed her—not this time. “You’ll have to let me have more space, at least for now. Be patient, please.”

He didn’t look happy. When she caught his eye he raised one brow. She didn’t get a response to her request.

“I’m sorry I…Max, I don’t know why I ran off to the bathroom last night. It’s been…This is so awful.” She made herself meet his eyes which did nothing to calm her down. “It was like—I said things I’ve never said. I wanted to shock you and give myself some courage. Afterwards, I got more confused. Forgive me for bein’ difficult.”

“
Difficult?
You think that’s what I thought about you?”

“I should have stayed and explained what was wrong.”

“We’re both here now. If you want to tell me, I want to listen.”

The complete truth was out of the question. At least now. But she could fill him in without going into all the details. He looked so tired. Annie rested a hand on the side of his face. “You’ve got enough to deal with.”

“I do. So please help me to stop worrying about you.”

Lifting her head, she scooted closer until their hips touched, and she curled against his chest. “It was a big deal at the time, but I got lucky. I was attacked. Before the man could finish what he started, my mother came home and he stopped.” Revisiting that night brought back the horror she had faced. But she was right, she’d been lucky. “He didn’t rape me.”

Max put his arms around her and hugged. “How long ago was this?”

“About ten years.”

“And each time you have sex now you fall apart?”

She pulled away from him. “You didn’t need to say that. I got frightened, is all. You sound like you’re takin’ a patient history.”

Max laughed. “I guess I do. Come back here.” She let him hold her again. “I’m a clinician, too. I do take histories. I slipped into a habit.”

“I wasn’t a virgin,” she muttered. “But I haven’t had sex since before it happened.”

“Sweetheart, sweetheart,” he said and turned her face up to his. Softly, he kissed her. “Now I get it. Jeez, if I’d known I’d—”

“You wouldn’t have made love to me,” she said flatly.

“Don’t put words in my mouth. If I’d known, and I’d been sure you wanted it, I’d have made sure we took things slowly.”

Annie pinched her lips together before she said, “I wanted it just the way it was.”

He laughed again. “You’re a wild thing.” Tired or not, his body reacted to being close to her, and talking about sex together. “Annie, can I ask you one more thing about this?”

“Ask. I may not answer.”

And he had thought she was too subservient when he met her! “Bobby. I don’t know his other name.” He gave her time to reply. She didn’t. “Was it Bobby who attacked you?”

“No…no.”

“You don’t sound sure. Tell me the truth.”

“I have.”

Max tamped down a flare of anger. “If it was him, I want to know.”

“It wasn’t him, I tell you.”

“He ran off at the mouth about you. After you left the café.”

Her heart felt as if it dropped—hard. “Try not to think about that,” she said. “I hardly recognize him as the high schooler I first knew. He’s turned mean. He seemed fixated on me at one time, but he hasn’t tried to get in touch with me for all these years.”

Max timed his next question as carefully as he could. “How did he know where to find you?”

“He was the guy who came out of the bagel shop in St. Martinville while we were standin’ there, talking. Who knows what caught his attention like that. Could be he got mad because I didn’t immediately melt all over him. But why would I? Sure he helped me out once, but it’s bizarre for him to get possessive now.”

“That doesn’t explain how he found you here in Toussaint.”

“Unless he knows someone I know.” She shuddered. “He wants somethin’ from me—has to—but I don’t know what it is.”

And Max couldn’t take a risk that the man was dangerous, even if he saw no connections to his own problems.

“He did something to help you once?” Max said.

“Yes. He and my mother stopped that man from finishing his attack on me.”

“Why were you attacked?”

No, no, no, she couldn’t go back there, not now and maybe never. “The man was mentally ill. He’d done bad things to other women.”

Max’s penetrating stare disturbed her even more. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I think you’d help me if you could,” he said. “What kind of bad things?”

She heard her throat make a sound when she swallowed. “Forcin’ himself on them. Tyin’ them down.” And that was all he would get.

“Annie.” Max stood and pulled her up by both hands. He kissed her knuckles and watched her reaction. “I don’t want to let you go.”

“I’m hopin’ we’ll get a chance to find out if…I feel silly sayin’ this, but I’d like to know if we could really have somethin’ together.” And she did feel silly. What made her think a man like him wanted more than a warm bed and a warm woman?

He pulled her far away from the windows where the curtains were still open. “I’ve told you the truth about what’s happened to me,” he said. “Today I expect all hell to break loose over Michele. I’m praying for her to show up. Or call and say she had a wild need to run off to Vegas or something. She wouldn’t be the first.”

“Is she the kind of woman who might do that.”

“No.” He slipped an arm around her waist and rested his chin on top of her head. “Michele is responsible. She’s the sort of woman who does exactly what she says she’ll do and she said she accepted the job at Green Veil. She was going home to deal with handing in her notice and making the move. She’s also engaged and planning a wedding. Her fiancé’s a nurse and we really expect him to come to Green Veil. Michele intimated he would. They like the idea of a quieter lifestyle.”

“Did Spike say if they’d found any evidence yet? Fingerprints they could use, clothing left somewhere…blood?” She coughed. “I thought about simple things, like the front door at the Majestic. She had to touch that to go in.”

“So far, nothing they can use. They’re searching, but I can’t be with them.”

“Why?” Of course she knew why.

“I’m the number one suspect,” Max said. “I doubt they’d think my heart was in it. Today, I expect to spend time with Spike and probably a whole bunch of people who’ve jumped into the case by now.” He raised his face to the ceiling. “Michele told me not to go into the hotel with her but I should have insisted.”

“But you saw her inside?” Annie said.

“Of course. She walked straight in and turned toward the stairs. Why didn’t I stay a bit longer—just to be sure?”

“It’s not your fault at all,” Annie told him. “Would it help if you and I were open about our friendship instead of tryin’ to hide it? The authorities would see there’s nothin’ to suspect you of. That you’re not a man women have to be afraid of.”

His shirt was free of his pants and he shoved his hands underneath to put his thumbs in the waist of his pants. The shirt wasn’t buttoned to the bottom and his flat, muscular belly made it hard for Annie to look away.

“I want to accept your offer. I want us to be together whenever we aren’t working. I would love to ask you to build toward a future with me but I can’t. I told you, two women I got close to, died.”