Sweet Poison (19 page)

As much as he wanted to think otherwise, he figured it was just a matter of time before the cops came calling again. Under other circumstances, he might have split right away and never looked back. But because he realized he now had a son, nothing on earth was going to keep him from getting to know that kid. Not even his goddamn temper. His life had to appear completely normal to the cops, but he’d fake them out—and everyone else—when it became necessary. His goal was to keep things going as long as possible. He knew what he needed to do. He was actually looking forward to it.

Corey had staked out the Unicorn bar again last night hoping to talk to Serena without her new boyfriend around, but when she walked
out, she had three people with her—all guys who looked lit and loaded for bear, so Corey hadn’t approached her. He drove home depressed and alone.

But this morning, when Corey smelled the bacon frying, he understood that Mary had trotted out the big guns. He’d never been able to resist bacon. In Corey’s lexicon of the way the world worked, a person had to be just plain weird not to like the smell of frying bacon.

Tramping up the stairs, he stood in the doorway to the kitchen. “You look tired, Mary.”

She lifted the last piece of bacon onto a plate covered in paper towels. “Nothing a good breakfast can’t fix.”

“Did you wait up for me last night?”

“Well, no, but—”

“You waited up.”

She turned, smiled softly.

“You’re too good for this rotten world.”

“Don’t say things like that. Hey, you cut that silly goatee off your face.”

Corey felt the skin on his chin for the first time in over a week.

“Why don’t you come to Mass with me tomorrow? And confession—”

“I know. Confession is half an hour before Mass.”

She nodded, her back to him as she dished up their plates. “Will you go?”

“I’ll think about it.” When she set the plate in front of him, the sight of it almost made him cry. She’d made pancakes. Pancakes were for special days, home-from-school days, snowstorm days. He raked an arm across his face. He didn’t know what was happening to him, wearing his heart on his sleeve the way he’d been lately. He had to get a better grip. “This looks fabulous.”

“I thought we could both use a treat.” She sat down next to him, put her hand on his arm.

“Listen, Mary—” he began, picking up the paper napkin and
beginning to shred it. “There’s, um, there’s something I need to tell you. Something I learned a couple of nights ago. I think it may be the best thing that’s ever happened in my life, other than you.”

She looked up into his face with those soft blue eyes of hers. He could tell she was steeling herself for the worst.

“I’ve got a son, Mary.”

Her eyes widened.

“Serena had a child shortly after I went in. She never told me back then, but I saw him the other night. He’s the spitting image of me. Crazy red hair. A mass of freckles. His name’s Dean. She even named him after me.”

“Serena told you all this?”

“No, but when I was over there meeting the new boyfriend, I saw him. Serena’s playing hard to get at the moment, but she’ll talk to me now that I know about Dean. She has to.”

“Oh, Corey—”

“Isn’t that, like, the greatest news?” He smiled, felt his chest expand with pride.

She didn’t return the smile, but she didn’t launch into some Catholic prayer for forgiveness either.

“I’m a father, Mary. I’ve got a son!” He poured syrup on his pancakes, tucked into them greedily. “Aren’t you a little happy?”

“Honestly? I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, I do. I’m walkin’ on air. And you can take this to the bank. I’m getting to know that kid, one way or the other.”

“What’s that mean?”

“With or without Serena’s permission.” He winked. “But I think I’ll get it. She’s not mean-spirited. She’ll want Dean to know his real dad.”

“Corey, honey, listen to me. You’re not being realistic. Until Charity Miller’s murder is cleared up, you’re in no position to demand anything from Serena.”

He thought about it. “We’ll see.”

They sat at the table for a few minutes, listening to the radio.
Some woman was talking about fried food, how it wasn’t as bad for you as most people thought. It was probably bullshit. You had to be a complete moron to believe the experts since there were so many of them and they always seemed to be changing their minds.

“Corey,” said Mary, finally, pushing her plate away, “you should know that I talked to Jane Lawless yesterday.”

He stopped chewing. “I don’t want her help.” He pointed his fork at her. “I don’t want her father’s help either. You stay away from them, you hear me?” As quickly as his temper flared, he regretted it. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yell at you. But I meant what I said. I don’t need anybody’s help.”

She looked up at the clock on the wall, tried to keep her face neutral, but he knew he’d hurt her.

“I’ll get us some java,” he said, pushing away from the table. “Really, I shouldn’t have jumped at you like that. I just don’t want anything to do with that family.”

“But why?” asked Mary. “If you dislike them so much, why are you donating time at Ray’s campaign office?”

He shrugged, set two filled mugs on the table. “I was curious.” He could tell by the look on her face that she didn’t buy it, but that wasn’t his problem. As he reached into the refrigerator to get out the half-and-half, he saw a folded piece of yellow paper sticking out from under the Saturday paper. He picked it up.

“Don’t read that,” she said. She was up in a flash, grabbing it out of his hand.

He grabbed it back. “Why? What’s it say?” He opened and read it out loud: “ ‘Block meeting tonight. For those of you who haven’t heard, a level-two sex offender has moved into our neighborhood. If you feel, as we do, that this should never have been allowed, and want to brainstorm ways to have the man removed, please come tonight for a neighborhood discussion. Seven
P.M
. at the home of Dave and Kelly LaForge, 5924 Sunrise Drive.’ “

Corey crumpled the paper. He was so angry, he was shaking. “Where’d you get this?”

“It was under my windshield wipers when I left for the grocery store. Corey, now, just calm down. Getting upset isn’t going to solve anything.”

He tossed it in the trash and headed for the door.

“Please!” she pleaded. “Think about what you’re doing for once!” She rushed out after him. “Just leave it alone,” she called. “It will all blow over if you don’t stir things up.”

“Like hell it will,” he shouted back. He was already across the street. He ripped a flyer off a Chevy Astro. “Do you know them?” he yelled over his shoulder, looking around for more.

“Yes,” said Mary. She came down off the steps, followed him as he continued to remove the flyers from trees, cars, telephone poles. “They’re good people. They just don’t understand. Let me talk to them.”

Corey ignored her. The yellow signs were everywhere. Grabbing them one by one, he ripped them into small pieces and tossed them in the air.

“Stop it,” said Mary, stamping her foot. “Stop it this minute!”

“Stay out of this, Mary. Go back in the house.” He zigzagged down Sunrise Drive, hands balled into fists. Each time he came across another flyer, he ripped it to pieces. Cars honked at him for darting out into the street. He gave them the finger and kept going.

“You listen to me, young man.” Mary was furious now, her face was crimson. She pointed at him. “You will stop this right now or you will leave my house and never come back.”

By the time he’d reached the LaForge place, a few people were standing on their front steps, watching both him and his aunt. He banged on the front door, rang the bell a bunch of times, then banged on the door some more. He saw the curtains move in the living room. “Come out here and talk to me,” he demanded, kicking the door with his boot. “You goddamn fucking cowards. Come out here and face me!”

“Corey, I mean it! This is it,” yelled Mary. “I’ve reached the end of my rope.”

“Go home,” shouted Corey.

“I will not!” She stood her ground halfway down the street.

When he turned around, he saw that everyone who’d come out to watch them had retreated into the safety of their houses.

“You all listen to me,” he screamed, jumping over the railing and landing in the center of the LaForges’ front yard. “I served my time! I’m a free man now and I can live anywhere I damn well please!” He took a breath, walked out to the edge of the sidewalk, pointed his finger at every house on each side of the street. “None of you know what really happened. I’m innocent. I never hurt that woman. I never should have been sent to jail! You motherfucking morons want to condemn me for something I didn’t even do!”

He charged back to Fifty-ninth, past his aunt, letting her outrage slide off him. He was sweating, shaking, seething inside. “Fuck you,” he screamed at nobody in particular, turning at the end of the block and heading back to the house.

Mary rushed up behind him. When he turned around, she slapped his face hard. “You’re a disgrace.”

“You can’t expect me not to fight back,” he shouted, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his forearm. Opening the garage, he walked his motorcycle out into the drive. “I’m so goddamn sick and tired of people passing judgment on me.”

“Where are you going?”

“You just threw me out.”

“Nobody pushes my buttons the way you do. You drag me down to your level and I won’t have it!”

He lifted his head at the sound of a siren. Climbing on his bike, he started the motor. When he looked at Mary, he was instantly sorry, but he took off toward Penn, heading for the Crosstown freeway.

Jane and Kenzie hadn’t said much in the truck coming home from Stillwater. It wasn’t that Jane didn’t want to talk, but Kenzie had cut her off, saying she was too angry to have a rational conversation. She needed time to think. Jane would have preferred to deal with the
problem right away. As it was, she got little sleep and was up early, kicking around the house, trying to figure out what she should not only say, but do.

Jane had barely seen her father during the last nine months. She’d been looking forward to Christmas when the family would finally have some time together. She had hopes that she might even get a chance to mend some fences with her brother, but if she needed to give that up to make Kenzie happy, she would. Kenzie didn’t have any family in Chadwick. Her older sister was in prison, and she didn’t get along with her older brother. Both of her parents were dead. Family didn’t mean as much to her as it did to Jane. But again, Jane was more than willing to give on that point, if only Kenzie would talk to her long enough to find out.

Kenzie came down as Jane was cleaning the refrigerator. She’d spent the night in the guest bedroom.

“I’m going out for a run,” she said, bending over to give Mouse a good morning rub.

Jane couldn’t read anything from her expression. “Will you be gone long?”

“I’m taking my truck. Think I’ll drive over to Lake of the Isles and run over there.”

“Before you go … just tell me you don’t hate me.”

A hand rose to her hip. “No, Lawless, I don’t hate you.”

“But you’re still angry.”

She stood in the doorway a few seconds, then said, “I’ll see you when I get back.”

Jane finished cleaning the refrigerator. By ten she’d calmed down enough to sit on the couch in the living room with a magazine. She hadn’t calmed down enough to read it, just to hold it open. She sipped from a cup of tea, wishing it was a shot of bourbon, and eventually drifted into her office, where she worked until she heard Kenzie come back.

“I’m taking a shower,” called Kenzie, her feet thumping up the stairs to the second floor.

“This is ridiculous,” Jane said to Mouse. The slow torture routine, if it was meant to soften her up, was beginning to produce the opposite effect.

When Kenzie finally came down, Jane was back in the living room. Kenzie was carrying her suitcase and overnight bag. She set them in the foyer. She was dressed in a blue silk shirt, brown leather vest, and worn jeans, her reddish-blond hair spiking in every direction because it was still wet. All Jane could think of was that she wanted Kenzie in her arms, not halfway across the room. She wanted things back the way they were yesterday, before she’d taken her to Stillwater and lit the bomb that was about to blow up her world.

After a few tense seconds, Jane stood and said, “Are you … just going to leave?”

Kenzie’s gaze floated around the room. “I think so, yeah.”

“So, is this it? We’re over?”

She looked down at her cowboy boots, then up at Jane. “Honest to God, Lawless, I don’t know.”

The silence that descended felt vast. Arctic.

Jane spoke first. “This is all because you think I’m a workaholic. That I never have any time for you.”

“That’s part of it.”

“The new restaurant pushed you over the edge?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. Maybe it’s what helped me finally understand something important about you.”

Jane’s eyes narrowed. “I’m a businesswoman. I’m ambitious. I can’t just tread water and make it in the restaurant world. I don’t think any of that makes me a bad person.”

“You’re right. It doesn’t.”

“You have interests, too, that take you away.”

“I do.”

“Then … what? What’s so wrong with us? With me?”

“Time,” said Kenzie. “Time and love.”

“You’re saying I don’t love you because I’m pursuing a career? Because I’m busy?”

Kenzie moved out of the foyer and leaned against one of the living room arches. “I’m saying that you have these boxes in your brain, Lawless. I’m in one of them. You open it every now and then and pull me out, talk to me a little, show me some affection, but you’ve got way bigger, more exciting boxes than mine.”

“That’s not true.”

“From where I’m standing, it is.”

“Sure, you’re not the only thing, or person, that’s important to me. But I love you. I want to make a life with you.”

“How?”

“How? What have we been doing for the past two years?”

“Missing each other.”

“That’s too easy. From the beginning, we knew a long-distance relationship would be difficult.”