Dead End (45 page)

“Marc!” Reb clutched at him. “Oh, Marc.”

Oribel laughed from behind him, close behind him. “This is cozy,” she said. “You gotta remember I know every inch of this place and you don’t know it at all. I’ve got my little gun in your lover’s back, Mr. Girard. Now we’re on the same side.” She pushed him hard toward the clearing. “You’re gonna help me.”

He and Reb shuffled forward as slowly as they dared.

“See who I got here, Martha?” Oribel said, laughing. “It’s Doctor Reb and that handsome Mr. Girard. You know how all you young things drool over him. You drool over any man with a pretty face and a good body. Sluts is what you are. You want Father Cyrus, only you’re never going to get him. The other ones tried...Abruptly, she stopped talking.

Martha didn’t say a word.

“Only way for you to get to me is through these two,” Oribel crooned. “Which wouldn’t necessarily be a bother to me. The doctor’s another one with an eye for Father. Walk, you two,” she said. “To the workshop. I don’t like a mess in my house.”

“Why didn’t you want me to see Bonnie’s body again?” Reb asked, and Marc held his breath, waitin for the shot that would finish the best thing he’d ever had in his life. Reb just kept on going, “You are one smart cookie, Oribel. I knew you wrote homilies for that no-good husband of yours, and they were good. But I didn’t figure you for a real brain. I should have.”

“I was always underestimated,” Oribel said. “But don’t you butter me up. I’m too smart for that, too.”

Reb held her tongue.

“How did you figure it was me trying to shut you up?” Oribel said. “Was it in your closet? Or that dumb poodle and the pie. Some faithful friend to man, that is. Wave the food and he’s gone.”

“All I knew was that someone figured I was a threat—that I could have something damning on them.”

“Don’t swear in front of a lady,” Oribel said. “If Bonnie hadn’t come along, I’d have been okay. But she did, and she wanted him. I knew it when she picked that photo out of my garbage and kept the pieces. She never figured I’d seen her do it. That isn’t no nephew he’s holdin’. I knew by the eyes it was his baby. And it was hers, that Bonnie. That’s why she wanted the thing.”

It was all enough for Marc. He didn’t need more proof of Oribel’s guilt, just a little break to allow him to get out with Reb.

Reb said, “That doesn’t explain where I figure in,” and Marc gritted his teeth.

“Keep walkin’,” Oribel said, keeping them between her and the vicinity from which Martha had spoken. “I’ve had it with talking.”

In the distance, on the road, a vehicle approached, and Marc’s spirits rose, only to sink again when the noise died away.

The three of them reached the workshop, and Oribel fumbled with a padlock until it opened. She pushed Marc inside first, then shut the door with Reb still outside. “Try anything and she gets it first, Girard,” Oribel said.

Fear had done its worst to Reb. She’d arrived at being still terrified but numb, and much more afraid for Marc than herself.

“I only want to tell you,” Oribel whispered. “You aren’t half bad, or you wouldn’t be if you could have quit trying to get between a good man’s legs. You’ve been after Cyrus for years, and him with what they call
arrested development—
with sex, that is. You were just like Louise and Carla, though.”

“You
were
the Rubber Killer.” Reb said softly. “That’s possible enough, I guess. You’re a strong woman, and you had surprise on your side. But the first two victims were raped.”

Oribel chortled. “In a way. Too bad they died before they could enjoy it. Put a dildo in a rubber and fire away. Easy. I saved Father from them.”

“What about Bonnie?”

“Too bad, that. The business with May Lynn and Pepper gave me a way out, and I would have stopped for good.” Oribel drove the gun harder into Reb’s back. “But Bonnie was the worst of all. I saw her game. She wanted him to leave the priesthood, and the child was her excuse. Still, if she hadn’t run into the church like she did that night, I might just have scared her off. I’d already dropped the bike, and I would have played the warning message I had William record. But she ran. Then she saw my face.”

Heavy to her bones, Reb said, “You could have helped your daughter if you’d loved her like she loves you. What did you hope to get from a tape recorder in my consulting rooms? A soundtrack of Cyrus being seduced?”

“
Filthy
mind,” Oribel said. “Precious is a good girl, but she’s too much like her daddy.”

Reb heard distinct movements coming from several directions and braced for Oribel to start shouting warnings for people to stay away. Eventually, if there wasn’t a miracle, she’d squeeze the trigger.

“First two,” Oribel said softly, her lips almost touching Reb’s neck, “I thought that coroner might have figured out about the dildo and told you, but you were keeping quiet, not letting on what you and him really thought, to see if it happened again. I didn’t see how anyone would figure it out, but it still seemed too easy. After Bonnie I figured you weren’t really buying the accident story, but I was settling down again when that Girard arrived with his
exhumation.
He ruined everything. If you all had another chance at the body, you might have been too careful, and maybe there was something to pull me into it.”

“That wasn’t likely after all those weeks,” Reb said and earned herself a whack across the side of the face with the gun.

She took the only chance she expected to get and caught Oribel’s gun-toting wrist in a hard grip. It took only a second to figure out that the older woman was unnaturally strong. She swung Reb around her body and slammed her on the ground, knocking all her wind out and leaving her grasping her diaphragm.

Reb remained where she was, pretending she’d hit her head.

“You’d never have made it on the stage,” Oribel said, chuckling.

Motion stirred the damp air. Reb opened her eyes to the impression of whirling figures, flying, kung-foo like, feet off the ground.

“Martha,” Marc’s voice cried. “Don’t walk off. You’ll get lost or injured.”

“Sit on the ground,” Spike shouted. “You’re going to be okay.”

Oribel was flattened, facedown, on gravel and uneven ground. She struggled enough for Marc to put more effort into restraining her. He pulled her arms up behind her back, and Spike snapped on handcuffs.

Sniffling, Martha joined the gathering, and Reb’s eyes stretched wide open when she realized Cyrus had the girl in a hammerlock and had confiscated her weapon. The night glasses Martha had bragged about were pushed up on his forehead.

Reb wondered how much he’d heard of what Oribel said about killing to save him.

Madge stood on the other side of Martha, but looked only at her boss; and for Reb, sadness pierced the madness of it all.

“Wally?” she said quietly. The door to the workshop was still closed, but she pulled it open. “How did you get out, Marc? Is...is he in there?”

“In there and okay,” he told her. “I told him not to come out here yet. She made him get inside a burlap bag and tied it shut. Reckoned she’d feed him to the gators if he made a sound. There’s a window on the other side. I climbed out and ran slap bang into Officer Friendly.”

A ripple of laughter quickly faded.

“Stop her!” Reb started toward Oribel, but Marc fell on Oribel first. The woman had already sucked a shard of broken glass into her mouth and began to crush it between her teeth. Marc held her cheek on the ground. On her knees, Reb jammed a piece of wood between her jaws and went to work cleaning out debris.

Madge, with a sharp edge in her voice, said, “Don’t you dare do a thing like that, Oribel Scully. Why, you’ll never get into heaven if you do.”

Engrossed, Reb made a note to tell Madge what usually happened with glass ingested by a human—very little.

Marc shifted, and Spike hauled Oribel, coughing and spitting, to her feet.

Looking past the woman at Reb, Marc smiled at her and tossed Oribel’s gun to Spike, who said, “A .32 caliber Guardian ACP. Takes those bullets Bonnie had in her purse. Guess this could turn out to be one less thing to look for.”

“Hick,” Oribel said clearly. “Pumped-up, no-account apology for a law man. Careful where you keep the pistol, sonny. You wouldn’t want to shoot your tiny little treasure off.”

“That’s it,” Spike said; then he yelled, “I want some peace, y’all. Y’hear?”

*   *   *

Reb decided this was the longest night of her life.  When she tried to organize her thoughts and think through the timeline, everything was a jumble.  And all the chaos the rest of them created didn’t help.  Either they all spoke and frequently shouted at the same time, or they fell into long silences that made her teeth itch.

Finally she, Mark, Cyrus and Madge were outside the police station and faced with Cyrus’s old Malibu station wagon as their only form of transportation.

“How long will they keep Oribel in that cell?” Madge asked.

Reb saw a look pass between the men. “That’s a holding cell,” Marc said.  “She’ll be there until she’s charged or let go.”

“You think she could be let go?” Reb said and heard her voice shake.

“No.  Just laying out the exact facts.  The only daylight Oribel is likely to see in future is in an exercise yard in a prison where they throw away the keys.”  Marc put an arm around Reb’s shoulders and hugged her tight.  “Pepper Leach will be released just as soon as they can get the paperwork done.”

“I need my car,” Madge said.  I’ve got to get home and sleep before I pass out.

“Nope,” Cyrus said.  “I’m not a cab driver and I’m putting you three in this bus of mine and going straight to the rectory.  There are plenty of beds.”

“Cyrus—”

“Not listening,” Cyrus said, cutting Marc off.  “Get in and try to keep quiet.  I need to think while I’m driving or I’m likely to go off the road.  I don’t think Doll and Gator will be so quick to give Wally hell now, do you?”

They all laughed and muttered negatives.  Wally’s parents had rushed into the station and born him away as if he were made of glass.  Doll cooed over the boy until he turned red with embarrassment but he seemed happy enough to be talked to as if he was both clever and precious.

At the rectory, Madge made straight for the stairs and climbed, yawning at every step.  “Night,” she managed before disappearing.

“Should we use the same rooms as before,” Reb said, avoiding direct eye contact with either Marc or Cyrus.

“Seems appropriate,” Cyrus said, also looking anywhere but at his guests.

Marc drew himself up visibly.  His clothes were filthy and his hair tangled with bits of debris.  He had dirt on his face and Reb figured they made a matched pair.

“I’d appreciate a few more minutes of your time if you don’t mind, Cyrus,” he said.  And without looking at Reb, he added, “Could the three of us go into your study?”

Without a word, Cyrus walked to his study door and pushed it open.  He waved them inside.  “If you want to make confessions we should do that one-on-one.  Who’s first?”

“I’m not looking for a confessor,” Marc said.  “What I probably need is a referee.  This is one difficult woman I’ve fallen in love with.”

Reb stopped on the threshold of the study but Marc propelled her in ahead of him.

“Don’t do anything ridiculous,” she told him.  “Cyrus is tired.  If it’ll let us all get some sleep quicker, I’m sorry I’ve gotten carried away by…by passion.  I dragged you into…sin, damn it.  But you asked for it.  You taunted and tempted me and I’m only human.  I’ve loved you since I was too young to love anyone.  How can you blame me for…for…well, doing what I did.  There.  Cyrus, it was all my fault.”  She lowered her voice to a whisper, “I lusted for him, too.”

While Cyrus grinned, Marc placed a hand gently over her mouth.  “Be quiet, please.  You said you love me.  That’s good enough.  Got your calendar handy, Cyrus?”

The priest pulled a heavy black bound book toward him and flipped open the pages.  “An appointment to see me,” he said.  “Is that what you need?”

“We’re seeing you now,” Mark said.  “How fast can you marry us?  Take this real seriously because Reb is a slippery one and I don’t want her getting away again.  It’s bad for both of us…all of us.”

Cyrus slid some more pages, picked up a pen and made a notation.  “You’re in the book,” he said.  “Tomorrow we’ll talk instruction and announcements.  Now I’m going to bed.”

The door closed behind him and Reb shook her head.  “You’re bizarre, Marc.  I guess I’ll accept your knee-melting proposal.”

“Thanks.  You’re engaged.”

She frowned at him, fighting the urge to tug him down onto the carpet and wrap herself around him.  “What does he mean by instruction?  We know how to do everything we intend to do—I doubt if he’s even heard about half of it.”

His kiss worked beautifully until he started to laugh.

       “What?” she said.

       “We’re getting married,” he said.  “I never thought that would make me feel so good.  But first we’re going to be instructed on how to make sure you obey me at all times.  I already know, but I’m open to additional constructive ideas.”