Deaths of Jocasta (42 page)

I replied that things happened when people weren’t around. Elly just shook her head and drove on. Bernie had the temerity to defy Cordelia and wave as she passed by.

I went to a little greasy spoon of a restaurant a few blocks away for dinner. I passed around the sketch of Frankenstein, hoping someone might have seen him. No one had, but the food was good.

I drove back by the clinic. It was starting to rain. What am I trying to prove? If Frankenstein has any sense, he’s in West Texas by now. No, he’s a fanatic, I reminded myself, logic doesn’t apply.

I stopped across the street from the clinic and gazed at the darkened building. The rain was getting heavier, streaking the windshield and blurring my vision.

Then, between the rivulets, I saw Bernie run out of the parking lot into the street. She stumbled and slipped in her haste, barely catching herself before she fell.

“Bernie!” I yelled as I started my car. “Bernie. Over here!” She veered toward me, banging into my car, then skittering around it and collapsing into the passenger seat.

“Drive. Get out of here,” she gasped. “It was him. That big guy. Let’s get out of here.”

I looked back at the entrance to the parking lot. My first urge was to jump out and charge after him. Then I glanced at Bernie, the fear on her face. And knew I couldn’t leave her alone and vulnerable. I didn’t like my chances, gun or no, going after him on a dark, rainy night. I drove away.

“I was so scared,” she said after we’d gone a few blocks.

“What were you doing there?” I demanded.

“I left some yarn and knitting things that I was supposed to take to my mother. Mrs. Reily dropped by with the stuff this morning. And Mama needed it for a sweater she’s knitting for my sister’s second kid. And I promised it’d all be there tomorrow when she returned,” Bernie babbled.

I knew she was doing it out of nervousness, so I got to find out more details than I cared to about her sister’s babies and her mother’s knitting ability.

“Do we have to tell anyone?” she suddenly asked. “I feel so stupid.”

“’Fraid so, Bern. Starting with the police.”

“The police?” she asked, looking at me.

“Yep. They have to know Frankenstein’s real and still around. It’ll help narrow their search. And the people in the clinic need to know how real the danger is. You learned the hard way.”

I spotted a pay phone and pulled over. O’Connor was still at the station, so I told him what had happened and that we were on our way.

When we arrived, O’Connor informed me that several patrol cars were combing the neighborhood. Bernie told him what had happened. She’d seen him in the parking lot watching the building. She’d dropped the knitting stuff and ran out of the lot.

O’Connor’s only comment was, “So, you saw this guy in an ill-lit parking lot during a rainstorm and you’re sure it was the same man Miss Knight claims she keeps running into?”

After glaring at O’Connor, I took Bernie home, telling her not to worry about the knitting, that Mom and Sis would understand and the baby would never know.

Bernie was upset. Understandably. I stayed with her, just talking and letting her calm down.

After a while Bernie started asking questions, the usual ones: How do you know? How do you meet women? How do you know if they’re gay? And so forth. I gave her the best answers I could. Then came the inevitable question. “Are…you involved with anyone?” Bernie asked, transparently.

“Oh, Bernie,” I laughed, then said, as kindly as I could, “Um…sort of.”

She blushed and wasn’t able to look at me for a few minutes after that. I offered to introduce her to some women closer to her age (and, more importantly, but I didn’t say it, her experience level). Then I promised her a list of gay groups in town where she might get more information. That cheered her up and she was able to look at me again.

I spent the night. In her mother’s bed. (Mom wasn’t home, being with expectant Sis.) Bernie had had a nasty scare and she didn’t need to be left alone.

In the morning I drove her to the clinic, where we retrieved her raincoat and soggy yarn from the parking lot.

Millie pulled in. I told her what had happened and to pass it on to the others. Then, after reassuring Bernie that I would be by in the afternoon to make sure she got safely to her car, I got back into mine. I didn’t want Cordelia to catch me in her parking lot.

She caught me exiting it. She turned in just as I was pulling out.

“What are you doing here?” she called to me.

“Ask Bernie,” I replied and drove on.

I went back to my place and called O’Connor. Frankenstein hadn’t been found. I cursed and he promised extra passes of the clinic by patrol cars if it would make me feel better. I grunted and hung up.

I returned to the clinic in the late afternoon, driving around the neighborhood for a bit. No blue Chevy. No very tall men.

I brazenly pulled into the clinic lot and parked next to Cordelia’s car. I didn’t think she could pick up my car and throw it off the lot.

Bernie, Millie, Elly, and Cordelia all came out of the building together.

“Hey, Mick,” Millie called. “Enjoying the steam bath?”

Elly gave my shoulder a squeeze, then said, “I hate it when you’re right. Especially about killers hanging about,” she added.

“Yeah, Elly, me, too.”

She and Millie walked on to their cars. Then it was Bernie’s turn. I handed her the lists I had promised her. And a battered copy of
Rubyfruit Jungle.

“Lesbianism 101, Bern.”

“Thanks, Micky. Thanks a lot.”

“Don’t let your mother see it,” I cautioned.

“I won’t. Thanks again,” she called as she rushed off to read a real lesbian book.

Cordelia leaned into my car window.

“I suppose I should thank you for saving Bernie,” she said.

“I suppose you should.”

“Thank you. I appreciate what you did.”

“Yeah…well…Bernie’s a good kid.”

“One you’re leading down the road of decadence, I noticed.”

“You think being lesbian is decadent?”

“No, of course not. I was trying to be funny. She’s madly in love with you.”

I gave a short laugh. “Believe me, it’s nothing I did. I’m the first dyke she’s ever seen, that’s all.”

“I thought I was, and she’s not in love with me,” she remarked easily.

“She might not know you’re a lesbian.”

“I guess not.” Cordelia shrugged. “You’re not staying here, are you?”

“For a bit. I have a gun.”

“Why doesn’t that make me feel secure?”

“Because it’s not loaded? And even if it were, I can’t shoot straight?”

“Micky,” Cordelia said, then burst out laughing. “You are insane,” she said, still laughing. In a more serious tone she added, “Please go home. Don’t stay here. The rules that apply to us apply to you, too.”

“All right,” I reluctantly agreed.

“Follow me out?”

I nodded. She got in her car and started it. I tailed her, only turning off when I had to to get to my apartment. I thought about going back to the clinic, but didn’t. At least for tonight, I had agreed not to.

I didn’t go to the clinic in the morning. I was desperately in need of my beauty rest. I headed out in midafternoon, catching sight of myself in the mirror as I left. T-shirt, cut-offs, and a decent blazer doing a barely adequate job of concealing my gun. We can’t all be fashion plates.

I only had to wait in the parking lot about half an hour before Elly, Millie, and Bernie appeared.

“Where’s Cordelia?” I asked as they came by.

“Working late,” Elly replied.

“And you let her?” I demanded.

“Only because, dear Micky,” Millie said, “we knew you’d be hovering out here like some guardian angel. Why don’t you go wait inside where it’s cooler?”

“No, thanks,” I replied. “Air-conditioning rots the brain.”

“Have it your way,” Millie said as she headed for her car.

Elly got in my passenger side. “No one alone in the parking lot. I’ll stay with you until Cordelia shows up.”

“I could stay, Elly,” Bernie offered.

“You go on home, Bernie. Your mother’s worried enough about you as it is,” Elly replied. “Besides, I want to talk to Micky.”

Outmaneuvered, Bernie waved good-bye and headed for her car.

“Yes?” I said to Elly.

“She’s got quite a crush on you.”

“I know. What am I supposed to do?” I grumbled.

“Steer her gently in the direction of some other nineteen-year-olds.”

“I have no intention of sleeping with her,” I stated.

“I’m not accusing you.”

“No, but you’re insinuating that I might be. Or Danny is.”

“No, Danny’s not. She’s not even here.”

“I don’t go for blushing virgins. I gave them up for Lent. I mean, what would we talk about in the morning? That’s important, you know.”

“Danny never mentioned much talking in the morning.”

“I don’t guess we did. After we started sleeping together all we did was fuck our…uh…” I rapidly changed the subject. “You don’t have to stay. It’ll be light out until around eight. I’m sure Cordelia will be out by then.”

“If you wait inside, I’ll go. If not, I’ll stay and ask you more indelicate questions.”

“You’re a hard woman, Elly Harrison.”

“Maybe it’s my bias, but I don’t know why you did what you did to Danny. Why you wanted to hurt her like that.”

“I didn’t want to hurt…I was young…I… Anyway, I guess I’ll wait inside. Say hi…to Danny for me.”

I got out of the car, closing the window and locking the door. Elly did the same.

“Okay, Micky, take care,” she said, seeing that I had no better answer for her.

I watched until she got into her car, then I headed for the building. The waiting room was empty and the door to Cordelia’s office shut. I pulled out Dante and sat down to pass the time. The waiting room air-conditioner had been turned off, but it was still significantly cooler than outside. I assumed Cordelia shut her door to keep her cool air in. Either that or she knew Elly would chase me inside the building.

After a while I heard her door open and she went down the hallway to the bathroom. She saw me when she came out.

“I had no choice,” I said to forestall any comment she would have about my being in the building.

“Why don’t you wait in my office, where it’s cool?” she asked.

I agreed, not wanting to drip on
The Divine Comedy.
Cordelia sat back down and continued doing paperwork at her desk. I sat in the extra chair and went back to reading. The only sounds in the room were the hum of the air conditioner and Cordelia’s pen and the soft rustling of paper. Occasionally I turned a page.

I wasn’t sure what caused me to look up. Cordelia was watching me.

“You really are reading that, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Don’t let the cover fool you. It’s really lesbian porn.”

She came over to me and took the book out of my hand. After examining it a moment, she handed it back.

“Looks like Dante to me,” she replied. “I don’t think I’ve ever known a woman who’s read Dante before.”

“Some of them are nice people. Don’t let me scare you away.”

“You don’t scare me. Not much anyway.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant, so I didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t move away, still looking down at me. I couldn’t read her eyes. I glanced down, then away. I couldn’t find a comfortable place to look. She was too close. I had to either look at her or obviously look away. Staring straight ahead put me halfway between her breasts and her crotch.

I glanced back up. Cordelia was bending toward me. Then I felt her finger under my chin lifting my head. She kissed me softly, tentatively. I didn’t move for a moment, then I let Dante slip to the floor. The kiss became firm. I slowly stood up, keeping our kiss in place. I let her tongue into my mouth, savoring its explorations.

My body started responding, pressing against hers, feeling her curves and mounds against my own. I let out a gasp as her hips thrust into mine. I put my hand into the waistband of her pants, her hand traveled under my shirt.

“Can we be civilized and do this in bed?” she asked. “We’ll have to stand up if we stay here.”

“Civilization,” I agreed. My knees were getting weak.

Cordelia hastily locked up and we headed for our cars. We agreed on her place and that I would leave my car in my neighborhood, since I didn’t have a parking sticker for the Quarter. She followed me in her car, picking me up after I parked mine.

“You sure you want to do this?” she asked as I got in.

“Are you?” I asked back. She looked at me as if deciding. I continued, to cover my unease, “It’s not often I get to sleep with a woman taller than I am.”

“I never have,” she replied.

“How about I stand on the phone book and we pretend?” I offered. “I don’t think growing more is possible.”