Green Lake (15 page)

He came back fully dressed, and Madeleine handed him a fried egg sandwich with mayonnaise and melted cheese. He thanked her and moved to stand over the sink while he ate.  Madeleine made a similar sandwich for herself and then joined him at the sink.

He looked down at her and she smiled as she took her first bite.

After they finished eating she washed the skillet in the sink and went into the bedroom to see after the bed. The bed was already made. She found Eris on the front porch, looking after his hawk, and she touched him on the arm and lifted herself to brush him on the lips when he turned to her. Then she went home.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Eris felt sick. He had been sick ever since he touched her for the first time, and the feeling wasn't going away. His stomach felt as if it were lodged in his throat and parts of his body ached when he was away from her. He fought to keep things as normal and routine as possible, but his thoughts never strayed from her for very long, and what used to be a simple job for him was now a daily test in concentration.

At moments he was angry with her for screwing him up so badly, for taking his life into her small white hands and turning it inside out. The rest of the time he didn't care what she did to him, as long as she went on doing it the way she was doing it. For the first time in his life he felt right. A woman finally cared about him and enjoyed being intimate with him. And this was no ordinary woman. This was Madeleine. He had never known anyone like her. No one had ever looked at him the way she did, or made him so aware of himself as a man.

He shifted in his seat as he drove and fought to think of anything else.

It was useless. He kept remembering what it felt like to be inside her. How small she was. How soft her mouth was.

He made a noise of frustration and made himself concentrate on his surroundings, only to think of the quick breakfast she had made for him. If Eris wasn't smitten before, he fell hard when she joined him at the sink to eat that morning. Any other woman might have complained about the absence of a table and chairs. Not Madeleine. She wasn't interested in changing anything about him, only in sharing with him.

The sick feeling in him intensified when he thought of her someday leaving.

Then he forced himself not to think about it. He couldn't, if he wanted to function normally.

He thought he was seeing things when he drove past the Haven and saw Ronnie Lyman stroll in the door.

Eris pulled in and turned off the truck. He took off his glasses and walked inside to find Lyman talking to the man behind the counter.

Lyman turned when he heard Eris's footsteps, and when he saw Eris he backed up and said, “Don't mess with me, okay? I'm just talkin' to the man here about what he saw the day my daughter disappeared.”

“I didn't see nothin’,” the man said.

Eris advanced on Lyman and grabbed him by the collar to haul him out of the store. Outside he shoved him against a green Grand Prix and said, “We both know your daughter didn't disappear, but you might if I ever catch you around here again.”

Lyman's eyes widened. “That little bitch,” he said incredulously. “When did she talk to you?”

Eris ignored him. “The police have some questions, Ronnie. And a lot of people would like to kick the shit out of you. I'm one of them.”

Ronnie struggled to push him away. “Just tell me where she is. Tell me where the bitch went. The whole damned thing was her idea to begin with, not mine. Yeah, I'm sure she made herself sound real innocent, and you bought every word.”

The urge to hit him was overpowering, but Eris settled for slamming Lyman against the car again.

“Don't even think about selling that line of bullshit. You're the one holding all the cash, not her.”

“Did she tell you that? She's lying. I don't have a damn dime, I swear.”

Eris looked at the car behind him and said, “Wonder where it went.”

“Hey, man, I—”

Lyman was slammed against the car again before he could finish, and Eris suggested holding him there so the police could come and ask their questions.

“They know where to find me,” Ronnie snarled. “I'm still at the same place. Tell 'em to come on. I'll talk to 'em and tell 'em the truth about what happened.”

Eris released him and Ronnie got in his car and started the engine. He put the car in reverse and said, “You can't keep me out of here. I'll see you bastards in court. This is a public park, man, and—”

Eris kicked the driver's door, making a huge dent in the side. “Sue me.”

Ronnie Lyman's face grew purple with rage, and he backed the car wildly away from the convenience store, spinning tires and kicking up dust. Eris stood and watched his departure, and once again he found himself hoping Sheila Lyman had gone somewhere very far away.

On impulse Eris went back inside the store to talk to the man behind the counter.

“Well,” he said, after Eris asked his question, “I'll tell you what I told that detective from the county who showed up here. I don't really remember much about that day. I remember talkin' to an old boy from
Stockton, Missouri, on the phone in the late afternoon, and that's it. Never saw anyone and never sold a thing until six o'clock that day, according to my register receipts.”

Eris thanked the man and left, wondering what the hell Lyman thought he was doing by asking questions and bothering people. Was he making it look good for the press in anticipation of Sheila giving away the hoax? Framing his story about it all being his wife's idea, because he was really doing his best to find out who killed his little girl?

The year that rained shit was getting worse all the time.

As far as his job was concerned, anyway.

He ran across Dale Russell at a dock later that afternoon and asked him about the incident with Madeleine. Russell shrugged and grinned. “I took a license up to her house later, wanted to tell her it was all a joke, but she wasn't home.” He shook his head then. “She's a tough one, little Maddie is.

Guess she's had some problems, though, since her old man committed suicide.”

Eris's mouth twitched. “Did she tell you that?”

“Yeah. Needs someone to talk to pretty bad. I'll do what I can, but I'm no Dear Abby. She ever talk to you?”

“Occasionally,” said Eris.

“If you see her, tell her I've got a license for her. And tell her I was just kidding. She walked off before I could tell her I was joking.”

Eris waved to him and drove on.

If he had reason to dislike Dale Russell before, it regenerated itself a hundred times over as he gained distance from the other conservation officer. Needs someone to talk to pretty bad? Madeleine had been right about Russell having a problem with rejection.

And Eris had a problem with him. He had been tempted to tell the ass Madeleine had been with him the night before. Renard, the ugly old Indian.

But he didn't need to do that, and he wouldn't. It was enough that Eris knew where she was and what she was doing. No one else needed to know.

“I tried calling until all hours last night,” Jacqueline said on the phone to Madeleine. “Where were you?”

Madeleine drew a breath and said, “I'm sorry. I've been the butt of a prankster this week and I was trying to ignore the phone.” She didn't know why she was lying.

”A prankster?”

“Someone has learned I'm here all alone, evidently.”

“I was worried about you,” said Jacqueline.

“I'm sorry, Jac. Really. How are you?”

“Feeling good. I've lost ten pounds and I look great. Isn't that awful?”

Madeleine laughed. “I know what you mean.”

“How are things out there? How are the kitties?”

“Not so good.” Madeleine exhaled and told her what had happened with Dale Russell and the Tanners.

Jacqueline was shocked. “I can't believe the man could be such a monster. You think he actually sicced the dog on the kittens?”

“I believe he intentionally let the dog off the leash when he saw the kittens in the yard.”

“Manny is going to be upset. He's been buying flea collars and catnip to bring out this weekend.”

“We still have the black kitten.”

“You know, I have a problem seeing Dale Russell get snippy over a few perch.”

“So did I.”

“Are you sure he wasn't joking?”

“If you had seen him you'd know.”

“Guess you're really making lots of friends out there, Mad. So far you've alienated Renard, Russell, and now the dirt-diggers.”

Madeleine sucked in her breath and went still. Her grip on the phone suddenly tightened.

“It was a joke,” said Jacqueline.

“I don't think it was,” Madeleine said.

“You have to admit you aren't exactly the friendly sort.”

Madeleine's nostrils flared. “What does that mean?”

“It means you don't get along with people, Madeleine. But you expect them to get along with you.”

“Are you forgetting Denise and Tim Lansky?”

“No. But they were transitory and your effort wasn't a sustained one. I think that's why you failed at teaching, because you've spent your life studying people, but you just don't seem to like them very much. They always let you down, don't they?”

Through clenched teeth, Madeleine said, “You don't know what you're talking about.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don't. You've had a thing about weakness ever since I can remember. Sam Craven was anything but weak, but once he proved human you couldn't help but let your disappointment show. You helped drag him down and you know it.”

Madeleine's jaw went hard. “Jacqueline, don't say any more.”

“Does it hurt, Madeleine? Good. This conversation has been long overdue. Someone needed to tell you just how hard you are on people. You love invincibility, but no one is invincible, Madeleine. No one.”

“I know that.”

“You don't. Why haven't you spoken to our father in over two years? I know why. Because after his heart attack he kept right on smoking and eating and drinking and doing everything you and the surgeon general told him not to do. You couldn't make him care about his health, and now he disgusts you. He let you down by being human. By being weak.”

“I don't have to stand by and watch him kill himself,” said Madeleine, and the moment she said it she knew Jacqueline would pounce.

“The way you stood by and watched Sam? We all saw it, Madeleine. We all saw the way you treated him. I was ashamed, but I thought I understood. Now I'm not so sure. If you didn't love Sam Craven, then you've never loved anyone. You may not even be capable.”

“You're wrong,” said Madeleine. She was capable. She was more than capable.

“I hope so, Madeleine,” said Jacqueline. “Otherwise you're destined for a long and lonely life.”

Madeleine was silent a moment. Then she swallowed and said, “Now that you've got all this off your chest, should I be looking for alternative living arrangements?”

“No,” said Jacqueline. “Don't you dare. I'm your sister and I should be able to say awful truths to you without driving you away from me. You stay right there and get mad at me Friday if you have to, slap me, spit at me or poison my daiquiri, but don't leave. If you go now I'll never hear from you again. I know how you are. I'm sorry if I've hurt you, Madeleine, but I couldn't hold it in anymore. Just promise me you won't take off.”

“I can't promise. All the arrows you've flung haven't reached bone yet. I can't say what will happen when they do.”

“I'm not hanging up this phone until you promise. I swear it. I'll stay here until midnight if I have to.”

“I promise,” said Madeleine.

“You're lying,” Jacqueline charged. Madeleine rolled her eyes.

“I have no choice but to stay, Jacqueline. You know it, and I know it.”

“All right. Speaking along those lines, have you heard word from any of the people you wrote to?”

“Nothing yet, but I haven't given up hope. I'm sure there's something out there just perfect for a selfish, weakness-hating misanthrope like me ... providing I can fool anyone into thinking I like them long enough to get a job.”

Jacqueline snorted. “How did I know that was coming?” When Madeleine said nothing, she sighed. “You know I love you, Madeleine. I know you love me too.”

“I thought I wasn't capable?”

“I'm the exception,” said Jacqueline. “Right?”

“Yes,” Madeleine told her. “And I promise I'm not going anywhere. All right?”

“All right. We'll see you on Friday.”

“Okay.”

They said goodbye and Madeleine slowly replaced the receiver on the cradle, hurt beyond words by everything her younger sister had said to her. She wasn't the person Jacqueline had described. She wasn't so shallow, or so cruel.

She loved strength in people, yes, but she didn't judge their worth using strength as a basis. She knew people were fallible and prey to all sorts of weaknesses.

And she had been getting along just fine with everyone until Russell decided he couldn't take no for an answer, and until Sherman Tanner decided to put her in her place. It wasn't any of Jacqueline's business to know how she was getting along with Eris Renard. Madeleine didn't know why she felt that way, but she did. She didn't want to share any part of him yet, not even to talk about him with her sister.

Still she had a lot to think about that day, her mind returning again and again to all Jacqueline had said. The business about their father was true. Madeleine became so frustrated with him it was impossible for her to maintain contact. She could not imagine caring so little about life and one's own body, particularly after her father had watched his own mother die of emphysema and stood helplessly by as a stroke left his father completely paralyzed. The old man had been sent to a home for stroke victims, where he eventually succeeded in starving himself to death.