The Devil's Right Hand (15 page)

“
Hey,” she said finally.

“
Hey,” he said. “Sleep
good?”

She smiled. “Yeah. I, uh…I guess I needed
that.”

“
It’s a start. Some things take a while
to get over.”

“
You sound like you know what you’re
talking about.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been there.”

“
You keep saying that.”

“
I know.”

“
You get over it?”

He shook his head. “No. Not yet.”

“
And it’s been how long?”

“
Ten years”.

Marie shook her head. “Jesus.” They were
silent for a minute. She turned to him. “Look, um, Keller, the way
I acted…”

“
Don’t worry about it. You needed to
let it go.”

“
Did you ever lose it like
that?”

“
No.” he grimaced. “It’s probably why
I’m still so fucked up.”

“
Hmm,” she said. “But anyway, that’s
not what I meant. Not the crying. The--the other thing.”

He looked away and cleared his throat. “Don’t
worry about that, either,"  he said. “Stress reaction. Happens
a lot to people who…”

“
I don’t act like that, Keller,” she
interrupted. “Ever.”

“
I didn’t think so,” he said. “Like I
said. Stress.”

She looked down for a second, then back at
him. “What I want to know is--damn it!” She shook her head
angrily.

“
You want to know why I didn’t take you
up on it.”

She bit her lip. “It’s not like I wanted you
to--I mean I did at the time, but I’m not--I  mean…” She
looked at him with narrowed eyes. “You’re not queer or anything,
are you?”

He barked out a laugh. “I think you
know better,” he said. “You had a pretty good grip on the
evidence.” Her face reddened with embarrassment and Keller
immediately felt contrite. “Look,” he said. “You know how confused
you are right now? Imagine how you’d feel if we
had
done it.”

This time it was her turn to laugh. “Okay,”
she said. “Point taken.” She gave him a crooked smile. “A regular
Sir Galahad, you are.”

He shook his head. “It would have been
unfair. Like you say, you weren’t yourself. I’d only want it if…”
he stopped.

“
What?” she said.

“
Nothing.”

 
She stood up and walked over to
stand in front of him. “You’d only want to make love to me if I was
myself, is that want you were going to say?” she said
softly.

He looked into her eyes. His mouth felt dry.
“Yeah.”

She looked uncertain for a moment, then took
a deep breath. “So what about now?”

He could only nod.

“
That may be the nicest thing anyone’s
ever said to me,” she said. She reached up and unbelted the robe.
She was naked underneath. She moved forward and seated herself
across his lap, straddling his hips.

“
I’m feeling a lot better now,” she
whispered as she kissed him. He hesitated for a moment, then kissed
her back, his hands sliding around her to caress up and down her
back. She moaned deep in her throat. This time, there was no
hysteria, no pain in the sound. She reached down to undo his belt.
He raised his hips slightly as she hooked her thumbs into his
waistband and yanked his jeans and underwear down to his knees. She
moved further up on him as he grasped her buttocks in his hands and
pulled her down. She gasped as they fit together. “Go slow,” she
whispered. “Please--go slow.” He did as she asked, entering her
slowly, gasping at the feel of her inner muscles gripping him. She
threw her head back for a second and groaned as she slid further
down onto him. Then they were joined together, fitting like puzzle
pieces. She opened her eyes to look into his as they began to
move.

They took it slowly for a long time, each
trying to prolong the exquisite sensations as long as possible.
Then control fell away from both of them and they moved faster,
their gasps and moans filling the room. He buried his face in her
shoulder and clutched her to him tightly as she screamed in climax.
He groaned and came as well, feeling as if he was emptying himself
into her, all the rage and pain and fear leaving him in one long
rush.

They stayed like that for a long while, him
still buried deep inside her, her head on his shoulder. Then she
looked up. She opened her mouth to say something, but he stopped it
with a kiss. They got up and walked together into the bedroom.

“
Hey,” Raymond called through the
curtain. “
Hey
!”

The cop outside poked his head in the door.
“Yeah?”

Raymond lifted his hand. The chain on the
handcuff jingled as his arm reached the limit of its tether. “Ain’t
I s’posed to get a phone call if I’m under arrest?”

The cop gave him a nasty grin. “Doesn’t look
like there’s a phone in your room here.”

“
I want to talk to a lawyer. You keep
me from doin’ it, my civil rights are violated. Maybe you even have
to let me go. You think about that.”

The cop’s smile vanished. He withdrew into
the corridor. Raymond could hear the crackle of the cop’s handheld
radio and a few muttered words. He lay back against the pillow and
waited. His gut ached like a bad tooth, but he had carefully
stashed his painkillers. After about a half hour, a young black guy
came in, dressed in the blue coverall of the maintenance staff. He
was carrying a white plastic phone in one hand. Without a word, he
plugged the phone into a wall jack behind the bed and placed the
phone on the bedside table. “You dial 9 to get a outside line,” he
mumbled. He didn’t look at Raymond as he left.

The cop stuck his head back in. “You got
fifteen minutes to make your phone call. Then I’m coming back in
and unplugging it. You ain’t going to spend the whole night calling
900 numbers on the county’s dime.”

“
I don’t want you listenin’ at the
door,” Raymond said. “Move off down the hall.”

The cop’s face reddened. “Listen, you son of
a bitch, You ain’t givin’ me orders.”

“
I got a right to talk to my lawyer in
private.” He showed the cuff again. “I ain’t goin’ nowheres with
this thing on.”

The cop’s jaw worked for a moment. “I’ll be
right down the hall,” he said. “Don’t try anything.” He backed out
into the hall again.

After he was sure the guy was gone, Raymond
picked up the phone. He dialed a number he knew by heart, but it
wasn’t a lawyer that he called.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“
Fuck,” DeWayne said.

He was looking at the back end of the Crown
Vic, which stuck halfway out of a ditch at the side of a two-lane
country road. Too many beers, too little sleep, and DeWayne had
drifted off behind the wheel. His first warning of any danger was
the sound of the car’s tires ripping through the soft grass and
earth of the shoulder. By then it was to late to keep the car out
of the ditch. He had sat there for a few moments, too stunned and
dazed to realize what had happened. Then he clambered out of the
car, toting the paper sack containing the remaining beers and the
rest of his cigarettes. He stuffed the pistol inside the bag.

“
God
damn
it!” DeWayne fumed. “What the
fuck
am I s’posed to do now?” A soft
glow over the nearest hill rapidly brightened, then resolved into a
pair of headlights. DeWayne briefly considered hiding in the woods,
then realized that it was too late for that. The car slowed as it
approached. DeWayne tucked the bag tighter into his armpit and
waved. The car stopped in the opposite lane.

It was a metallic blue Trans Am with tinted
windows. As DeWayne approached, he could hear the pulse of rap
music from inside, loud enough that DeWayne could feel the pounding
of the bass in his chest, even with the windows rolled up. As the
driver’s side window came down, the music got even louder. DeWayne
couldn’t see the driver clearly, beyond a glimpse of blonde hair
and a pale blur of face in the green glow of the instrument
panel.

“
Need help?” a female voice called over
the beat.

“
Yeah,” DeWayne said. “My car…a deer
ran in the road. I ran into the ditch. I need a lift.”

“
Hop in.” DeWayne ran around to the
passenger side and got in. The interior was as dimly lit and smoky
as a nightclub. He smelled the sweet reek of pot smoke as he closed
the door. A joint smoldered in the ashtray.

“
Whatcha got in the bag?” said the girl
behind the wheel. She was a skinny blonde who looked no more than
eighteen or nineteen. Her blonde hair was cut short and framed her
pale face. Her slightly receding chin and pronounced overbite
robbed her of any prettiness she might have had.
Still
, DeWayne
thought
, not a bad body
,
although he would have liked a little more in the tit department.
She was dressed in a thin tank top and denim shorts.

“
Got some beers,” DeWayne said. “Want
one?”

Her pale blue eyes showed a muted flicker of
interest. She was stoned out of her mind, DeWayne realized. This
night was looking better and better. “Sure,” she said.

He reached into the bag and fumbled for a
full can. The condensation on the cold beers, however, had rendered
the bag as flimsy as tissue. It ruptured and spilled its contents
onto the floorboard. DeWayne swore as he fumbled among the cans and
cartons.

“
Hey,” the girl said. “Is that a
gun?”

DeWayne picked up the pistol and pointed it
at her. “Yeah,” he said. “Don’t try anything. Just drive.”

The girl showed no reaction. “You a bank
robber or something?”

Jesus
, DeWayne
thought.
Was she
simple-minded
? “Or something, yeah. Now--”

“
Cool,” the girl said. “I never partied
with no outlaw before.” She smiled, showing her buck teeth. “You
got any money? I know where we can get some rocks if you got some
cash.”

“
I got a little,” DeWayne
admitted.

“
Awesome,” she said. She put the car in
gear. “I’m Debbie,” she said as she pulled off.

DeWayne blurted out the first name he could
think of. “I’m Leonard--ah, Lenny,” he said.

“
You wanna party, Lenny?” she said. She
picked up the joint form the ashtray, tried to puff on it. It had
gone out.

“
Honey, I love to party,” DeWayne
grinned. He took the joint from her fingers and put it between his
lips. He punched the cigarette lighter.

“
Awesome,” she said again.

Keller awoke with the morning sun streaming
through the bedroom blinds. Marie was lying on her side next to
him. He slipped an arm around her. She murmured something and
snuggled back against him. He lay like that with her for a few
moments before the pressure in his bladder became too
demanding.

When he came back from the bathroom, she was
sitting up in the bed, blinking. She looked up at him and an
expression of surprise flitted across her face. Then she smiled, a
little shyly.

“
Hey,” she said.

“
Hey,” he said.

She looked at the clock. “Wow,” she said. “I
never sleep this late.”

He sat down next to her on the bed and put
his arm around her. He tried to kiss her on the mouth, but she
turned her head slightly and caught it on her cheek. She turned
back to him, put a finger over her lips. “Dragon breath,” she
explained. “Not you,” she added hastily, “Me.”

He laughed. “I don’t mind.” He kissed her
again, this time on the mouth. “Mmmmm,” she said. She broke the
kiss. “Thanks for last night,” she whispered. “And thanks for
staying. It--well, let’s just say it’s been a while.”

“
I could tell.”

She pulled away and pulled the sheet around
her defensively. “What,” she said, looking down at the floor,
“You’re saying I’m out of practice? It wasn’t good?” She gave a
short, abrupt laugh. “I didn’t hear any complaints.”

“
No, no,” he pulled her close again.
“But it was like you were making up for lost time.”

She thought that over for a moment. “I’m
trying to decide if that was a compliment.”

“
It was.”

She smiled and relaxed against him again. She
reached up and kissed him on the chin. “Maybe you just better quit
talking. It’s not your strong point.” She turned to him and let the
sheet fall. “Besides, I have some more lost time to make up
for.”

Afterwards, they lay together in a tangle of
limbs and sweaty sheets. Marie stretched like a cat and smiled.
“Hungry?”

“
Yeah,” he replied.

She jumped up and threw her robe on. “Wait
here,” she said. “I’ll whip something up.”

“
Breakfast in bed?” Keller
said.

She laughed. “Not hardly. I’ll call you when
it’s ready.”

Keller lay back on the bed and closed his
eyes. He had almost drifted back into sleep when he heard a sound,
a rattle and buzz that sounded oddly familiar. As he struggled to
place the noise, it came again. It sounded as if some huge insect
was buzzing against the floor. Keller sat up and looked over the
edge of the bed. His jeans lay in a heap on the floor, his belt
still drawn through the loops. It was his cell phone in its holster
on one of the loops that was vibrating with its silent ring. Keller
considered not answering. Then he sighed. He plucked the phone from
the holster and flipped it open. “Keller,” he said.