Twilight (22 page)

“And you’ve treated Cal?”

Rita raised an eyebrow.

Laurie moistened her lips. “Then you know how he got the scar on his chin.”

Rita turned to him. “How’d you get the scar, Cal?”

He wanted to wring her neck. “Fighting a fire.” He pushed the words out and reached for his Coke, his eyes on Rita. If she betrayed him now …

“Twelve stitches,” she said.

“So is the show over?” Perry shuffled the cards before him.

Reggie pushed back the recliner. “It is for me. I got an early morning.” He nodded to Rita, “Dr. James,” to Cal, “Beefsteak,” then to the others, “
Adios
all.”

Rita stood also, sliding her earnings into her purse. “It’s always fun. Better luck next time, Cal. Nice meeting you, Laurie.”

“I’ll see you out, Doctor.” Reggie waved back with a grin. “Call me tomorrow, Cal. I got something to run by you.”

Cal eyed Rob and Perry. “Game’s up when I’m busted, men.”

“There’re still three of us with money to burn.” Tapping his finger next to his winnings, Perry smiled at Laurie. Cal imagined yanking him up by the collar, but Rob saved him the trouble, no doubt reading his intention.

Rob stood. “Time to hit the road, bud.”

Perry downed his beer. His half smile to Laurie was all invitation. Rob clamped his shoulder and led him to the door. Timely. Very timely. At least Rob cleaned up his mess. Cal closed the door behind them and turned to find Laurie’s eyes on him.

A slow smile spread across her face. “Would you have?”

He cocked his head and fingered the last button of his shirt. “What do you think?”

She brushed the hair back from her forehead, her fingers parting the hair into separate streams. “I’m not so sure.”

“You’re probably right. So did you have fun?”

“It was a little tense. With Rob.” She erased a spot on the table with her finger.

“He’s upset I quit.”

She raised her brown eyes. “Is that it?”

“Sure.” No need to recall Rob’s other objections. “What about the rest of the gang?”

“You’re still the life of the party.”

He leaned on the doorjamb. “I don’t know that Perry would agree.”

She shrugged. “Perry thinks a lot of himself.”

“He thought a lot of you too.”

“He’s not my type. I don’t like moony eyes.” Cal smirked. “Good.”

“You and Rita are close.”

The tendons in his neck hardened. “Why do you say that?”

“I can tell. What did she treat you for?”

He slid the cards from the table into their boxes. “She heads the Critical Incident Stress Debriefing Team.”

“Sounds serious.”

“It is. Keeps us sane … most of the time.”

Her gaze deepened. “Want to tell me about it?”

“Not really.” He swiped the empty beer bottles from the table into the trash.

“Do you think it matters?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” He dumped Rob’s ashtray and stuck it on the bookshelf, then sat down on the chair beside her, his bare chest brushing her shoulder. “You smell nice.”

“You sprang for it.”

“Yeah.” It was heady being next to her. All evening he’d wanted to touch her, hold her, communicate, as Rob said, with their kneecaps. He ran his thumb across her cheek.

“Don’t.” But even as she said it she leaned closer.

“What can it hurt?” His fingers slid into her hair.

“More than you know.”

“I don’t understand.” He dug his fingers into its silky softness.

“I don’t want you to.” She closed her eyes.

He didn’t need to. He kissed her lips.

Her voice was thick. “I have to go.”

Annie whined, sticking her wet nose under the palm that lay on his leg. Cal sat back, rubbing the dog’s ears. “When can I see you?”

“Cal …”

“When?”

“I don’t know. Soon. It shouldn’t be at all.”

“Yes, it should.” Her mouth was so close he could kiss it again. She said no, but she wanted it. Her signals were so mixed he’d need a multiple personality disorder to accommodate them all. But he took her at her word and resisted. “I’ll call you.”

“Okay,” she breathed.

Laurie drove home, more shaken than before. It was getting out of hand, old feelings that had no place in her life today, old memories that made things worse. She tried to control her jitters when she went inside. Since the children were sleeping when she’d gone to her mother’s for them, she had left them to stay overnight. Now she was alone, and the house was cold.

She walked through to the kitchen, hit the switch, and stared. The floor looked like something had been slaughtered there. It was smeared with blood, or something that looked and smelled like it. Across the wall was smudged,
last chance
. Her stomach turned over, and she put a hand to her mouth, gasping until she gagged.

Hands shaking, she grabbed a rag and held it to her mouth. “Oh, God. Oh, God.” Why was he doing this? Was he punishing her for walking out? For destroying his goods? Why didn’t he show himself? Ask her to her face? Why terrify her …

She looked again at the floor, and her head cleared. This wasn’t Brian. It couldn’t be. He was egotistical and reckless, but he wasn’t sick. She looked at the black, gaping window and quailed. Who then?

Her legs almost wouldn’t work, but she had to clean it up. What if she’d walked in with the children? Thank God they’d been asleep or they might have all trooped in for hot chocolate. This had to stop. But how? Last chance? Didn’t he understand she didn’t have it?

She crossed to the cupboard and took out the old corkboard, then nailed it to the door. Then she mopped the linoleum and wrung the mop in the sink as the water ran red. She wiped the wall clean, thankful now for the thick, almost plastic shiny paint, then sank to the chair and thought of calling Cal. She dropped her face to her hands.

No. She was already in over her head. His kiss had shown her that much. Her fists clenched with the sudden surge of emotion. She could not let things continue as they were. She hadn’t meant it to reach this point. She had to tell him, but every time he was near, that same electric connection held her mute.

Maybe if they’d never—if she’d never—given in. She had known better. Even without Daddy’s threats and Mother’s tight lips, she’d known inside what was right. Her senior year in high school, after Cal had graduated, they’d spent most of their time together, but she’d resisted him.
Oh, Grams, where did I go wrong?

It was for Grams’ sake she’d held out against the pressure. Not just Cal’s, but every date she had, it seemed. Grams made it sound a wonderful thing to be virtuous. But then Grams was gone, and Laurie so angry with God, with the Jesus who let Grams suffer …

She was striking back at Daddy, at God, maybe even at Cal himself. Striking back as much as reaching out for comfort, for love. If Daddy had known, he would have murdered Cal. For reasons Laurie still did not understand, Mother hadn’t voiced her suspicions. Maybe she thought if she interfered Laurie would marry Cal. Maybe she would have. Laurie dropped her face into her hands. Why did she keep coming back to that night? Wasn’t she past it yet? One night.

What would her marriage have been had she not known Cal first? Would it have made any difference? She might have been happy with Br ian, might not have felt wrong ever y time they came together. Tears burned against her eyelids. She had to tell Cal. But how could she?

By the way, Cal, I’m still married. I know how you feel about that …
She gave in to the tears. Did it matter that she and Brian had taken their vows on the beach instead of a church? That a vegetarian guru had officiated instead of a minister? That they had deleted “till death do you part” and said instead “as long as we both desire”? And she never had, really. Her marriage was a lie, a contract between two fools with no concept of unity or commitment. Did that change things in God’s eyes?

She pounded the table. God was no concern of hers. His ways were too hard, too narrow, too controlling. Maybe Grams’ Jesus was gentle and merciful, but He had died with Grams. And Cal had picked up the pieces. And he was there now. What they had once, they could have again. So why did it feel so bitter? Laurie pressed her palms into her eyes.
What have I done with my life? My children’s lives?

Luke. Maddie. Conceived of a lie, they were still the only point of light she had. If something happened to them … The shudder started at the base of her spine and shot up between her shoulder blades. Surprisingly it bolstered her. She would fight the demons of hell to keep her children safe.

Should she call the police? Risk Brian’s threat? Could he take the children? It happened all the time, faces of missing children on posters at the grocery store. Did she think this podunk town’s police department could find them? Besides, it was too late to call, now that she’d cleaned up all the evidence.

What then? She stroked her face with her palm, looked up at the corkboard. What a joke. Tomorrow she would install keyed dead bolts. And then another thought came to her.
Daddy’s gun
.

12

Y
OU DO NOT GET A MAN’S MOST EFFECTIVE

CRITICISM UNTIL YOU PROVOKE HIM.

S
EVERE TRUTH IS EXPRESSED WITH SOME BITTERNESS.

Henry David Thoreau

C
AL PULLED OPEN HIS DOOR, only mildly surprised to see Rob back at his place. “Hey.” It was mid-morning, and Rob was on his forty-eight hours off. After last night, he looked ready to speak his mind. Cal pulled a second mug from the cabinet and filled it with coffee. He handed it over, then leaned against the counter. “If you’re here for answers, I’m clean out.”

Rob sent him a look Cal couldn’t decipher. Anger? Disappointment? “I thought you were finished with self-destruction.”

Cal looked into his cup. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You and Laurie.”

Again, he was only half-surprised. That Rob chose to discuss Laurie instead of his quitting the department was an example of their noncommunication these days. “So?”

“So I thought you’d learned.”

Cal swirled the coffee in the cup, then sipped again. “Can’t help it.”

Rob puffed the air out through his lips, kicked aside a chair, and sat down.

Cal took the opposite chair at the small table. “How’d she look to you?”

“Gorgeous, sweet … and deadly. For you, anyway.”

“Why?”

“Come on, Cal. She’s a fortune hunter.”

“No, she’s not.”

Rob was unrelenting. “The kind who takes you for what you’re worth and walks away.”

“Well, I’m not worth much, so what have I got to lose?”

“I don’t mean money.”

Cal shoved the cup aside. “What then?”

“Your pride, your manhood. Your soul.”

Cal sat back. “What soul? I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff.”

“Well, I think you’d sell yours for another shot at Laurie.”

Rob still knew him after all. Cal frowned. “You’re probably right.”

“Forget it. Forget her.”

Cal pressed his thumb over the dried dribble of coffee on the side of his cup and tried to rub it away. Yeah, sure. Forget the sound of her laugh, the beauty of her smile. Forget her silky hair between his fingers and the touch of her lips on his. Forget all their history, and the hole only Laurie could fill.

“Cal. You gave it your best shot—stood up to her old man, gave her a shoulder to cry on. She walked all over you and then walked out. Keep it that way.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Why?” Rob crowded the table, palms flat.

“She needs me.”

Rob shook his head, disbelieving. “You have to believe that, don’t you?”

Cal slid back the chair and stood. He dumped the rest of his coffee into the sink and rinsed the cup clean. Need and duty merged too closely to separate sometimes. Did he imagine Laurie’s trouble because he needed to be heroic? Was Rob echoing Laurie’s own accusations? Did he need someone to save to prove he still could?

“You’ve got it all wrong.” Rob’s voice took on an edge. “You hold on where you should let go, and punk out where you ought to stay.”

So here it came, what Rob really meant to say. Cal rinsed the coffee from the sink.

Rob slapped his palm on the table and stood up. “You think I want to partner with Perry? You think I’d trust him with my life?”

Cal stared into the drain.

“Why can’t you just get over it, Cal? It wasn’t your fault!”

Cal turned. “Tell that to Ashley Trainor.”

“Ashley Trainor is dead! We can’t save them all.”

Cocking his head, Cal saw the air starting to change, heard the buzzing in his ears. “Get out, Rob.” He gripped the counter. “Get out.”

Laurie took one last look around the kitchen in the morning light to make sure she hadn’t missed any of last night’s mess. Except for the corkboard nailed to the window, the room looked clean and innocuous. She went to get the children.

Her mother’s face was puffy with a pinkish splotch on one cheek, her eyes hooded. Had she been crying? “The children are out back. Some of the neighbors came over.”

Laurie passed through the hall to look out into the yard. Luke and Maddie were chasing about with three other children. With a smile creeping to her lips, she watched them play. It was good for them to have playmates. She turned and saw her mother watching her. The expression was hard to place; envy, regret?