Deceived (23 page)

And she was there.

His pulse took off in a sprint as he stood up. “Oh, you’re here.”

“I thought I heard somebody knocking,” she said. “I was sleeping.”

“I’m sorry!”

“No, no, it’s okay. Is there something you wanted?”

“I just came by to see if there was anything you needed, see if you needed anything from the store, or anything” —
stop saying
anything! — “or anything like that.”

In his imagination he kicked himself.

“I’m fine,” she said, but she seemed to hesitate. Or was he just reading between the lines?

She looked vulnerable.

She looked wounded.

She looked soft and warm.

“I brought you something,” Ted said quickly. He picked up the package, almost dropped it, secured it with both hands.

She looked at the gift.

“It’s just a little something,” he said, “to kind of put a smile on your face.”

He went to her. She was standing just outside the door. The door was open a crack. Ted looked at the crack as if it were the secret tunnel to a pot of gold.

“Let me show you,” he said, and before she could do anything he pushed through the door.

He thought, This is too much, too fast. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t back down now.

He only stopped when he saw the man standing in the middle of the hallway.

11:06 a.m.

Rocky almost fell. Again. She put her hand out to the side, flat against a large boulder. That steadied her, though she had to bend almost double to keep from diving into a cleft.

Ridiculous, she thought. Quit making like a mountain goat, will you? Just get to the other side without an accident and —

She looked down in the cleft and saw something that was not part of the natural landscape.

It wasn’t exactly trash. It wasn’t like a soda can or the sort of litter one usually finds in hiking locales.

What it looked like, she thought, was half a cell phone.

11:07 a.m.

Ted didn’t know what to do.

He felt like a complete idiot, a moron.

Another man was in the house with her.

Wait. Liz had said she was sleeping. Was she sleeping with this guy?

Did I just walk into a little love nest? Am I the king of all doofuses?

Ted’s stomach did a swan dive into a gravel pit.

“How you doin’?” the man said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to say under the circumstances.

Ted didn’t answer. He heard Liz close the door.

“My name’s Bill,” the man said. “Liz’s cousin.” He stepped forward with his hand out.

Ted almost cried out with joy. A relative! A family member come to help Liz through this terrible, challenging time. Just like Ted! This man was not an interloper. He was not a rival.

Ted’s stomach pulled out of the pit and settled. He shook the man’s hand. “I’m Ted Gillespie. Great to meet you.”
Hey. Bill and Ted. This
is an excellent adventure!

Don’t be a nerd.

“Friend of the family?” the man named Bill said.

“I hope so,” Ted said. He looked at Liz. She smiled at him. His heart thumped faster.

“Well that’s just fine,” Bill said. “What have you got there?”

The package. Ted had completely forgotten. “Oh yeah,” he said, “a little gift. I thought Liz would like it.”

“Well that’s very neighborly of you, Ted,” Bill said. “Let’s have a look.”

“Sure.” Ted handed the package to Liz.

She took it, looking a little unsure of what to do. So sweet, Ted thought. What a gentle spirit she has about her. What would it be like to be married to a woman like this?

He could only hope. His last, best hope.

She tore off the brown paper. Then opened the white box. Took out the item.

“A clock?” Liz said.

“A Winnie the Pooh clock,” Ted said. “I thought you’d like it. It’s sort of a fun thing, you know? And when it ticks, he moves his honey jar.”

For a long moment nobody said anything.

Then Bill said, “Did you notice Elvis over there?”

Ted cleared his throat. Bill was smiling, but his question seemed a little accusatory. Or was it just his imagination? “Yes, that’s sort of why I thought Liz might like this one, too.”

“The battle of the clocks, eh?” Bill said. “Winnie the Pooh versus Elvis?”

Ted tried a little chuckle. “Yeah, I guess.”

Silence.

“Well that is just a very thoughtful thing,” Bill finally said. “A really thoughtful thing to do. Ted, thank you very much.”

“Yes,” Liz said. “That was very thoughtful.”

Yes! He was thoughtful. He was advancing. Good move. The Pooh clock was a very good move. He was on the upswing.

“Thanks so much for coming by,” Bill said.

“Would you like something to drink, Ted?” Liz said.

“Sure!”

“Honey, we have to get going,” Bill said. “Remember? We don’t have much — ”

“Just one drink, to say thank you,” Liz said. “It’s only right, since he took the trouble. As I remember it, Ted, you like ginger ale.”

“That’s right,” Ted said.

“We’ll have to make it quick, Liz,” Bill said.

“You all sit down and get to know each other,” Liz said, scooting into the kitchen.

Ted looked at Bill, who looked at Ted. Ted scratched his leg. His new Dockers were starting to itch. Bill said, “So I guess we should sit down.”

They did.

“What’s your line of work?” Bill said.

“I’m sort of looking right now,” Ted said.

“Ah, footloose and fancy free.”

“What do you do, Bill?”

“Me? I’m an accountant.”

“Really? Now that’s funny. I guessed that. You look like an accountant.”

“Do I now?”

“Uh-huh. I sort of have a way like that. I can get pretty close to guessing what a person does.”

“Well, that’s just a great skill you have there, Ted. A really great skill.” Bill looked toward the kitchen. “You about ready, Liz?”

Liz said, “Be right out.”

“She’s handling this pretty well,” Ted said, just above a whisper.

“Handling what?” Bill said.

“Her husband’s death.”

“Oh right. Yes. Of course. What was I thinking?”

Ted sort of wanted to know that himself. Was Bill thinking of running interference for Liz? Keeping Ted away from her? Maybe that was why Bill was trying to hustle him out. Maybe there wasn’t any real rush at all to go anywhere with Liz.

“Where do you hail from, Ted?”

“My dad was Air Force,” Ted said. “We moved around a lot.”

“What was your favorite place?”

“I don’t know. Colorado Springs was nice. San Diego, too.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Where are you from?” Ted said.

“Me? I’m from a little town I like to call Chicago.” Bill sat back, crossed his legs. “Live there still. Do you know Chicago, Ted?”

“Um, not really.”

“Great history there. Capone. The Cubs. Liz, you about ready with the drinks?”

“Coming,” Liz said.

Bill looked back at Ted. “Yes, Chicago. The City of the Big Shoulders. Really sort of forgotten. Everything’s New York or LA these days.”

“Or San Francisco,” Ted said.

Bill waved his hand. “Frisco’s had its day. We need to look to the future, don’t we there, Ted?”

Liz came in with a tray and three glasses with ice and ginger ale. “Here we go,” she said. She brought the tray to Ted, who took a glass. Then Bill took one. She put the tray down on the coffee table and took her own glass.

“Cheers,” she said.

They all drank.

It was almost normal. Ted thought maybe this was going to turn out all right after all. Eventually, Bill would have to leave, go back to where he came from. Chicago. That was far enough away.

Bill had just put his glass on the table when Ted saw the flash.

His mind told him instantly that what he saw could not be happening. It was not possible that Liz was holding a large knife in her fist, in plunging position, even less that she was bringing the blade down hard toward the throat of her cousin Bill.

But when the contact was made, he knew it was happening, really happening, though he could not begin to know why.

Ted Gillespie screamed.

11:14 a.m.

Mac knew something was wrong even before he turned into the church lot. It was like a vibe coming out to meet him in the street. He had a sense about things like that, even back in the Gulf.

He really honed the instinct in prison, when he could sense a Rambo coming up behind him, some punk who wanted to make trouble. Whenever that happened, his head would start to throb.

His head warned him like old farmers talked about their joints. They knew when a storm was coming because their joints started acting up.

Mac’s head was acting up. The lot looked empty from the street, but then he pulled into the drive and saw the back end of a blue car behind the church. Between the church building and the shack euphemistically known as the home of Daniel Patrick MacDonald.

The door of which was open.

Mac gunned it to the blue car, stopped, and jumped out.

Inside, his place was just this side of a hurricane zone.

Most of his personal items were in a haphazard pile on the floor.

He heard the sound of a drawer being pulled out, all the way out. In his bedroom.

Where he found Slezak bent over a dresser drawer on the bed. Slezak was throwing underwear and T-shirts onto the floor. He looked up and saw Mac.

“Hey there,” Slezak said.

Mac’s head started pounding.

“Best thing I can do for you is help you stay clean, huh?” Slezak said. “Make sure you return safe and sound to the streets of our city.”

The drawer was completely empty now. Slezak tossed the drawer itself on the floor and turned and pulled out another. Pants and a sweater in that one.

Slezak was smiling.

You could end this now
, Mac heard a voice say. Not exactly a voice, but a part of his brain screaming for relief.
Just take the guy out and
figure out your story later. It’s just the two of you.

Slezak emptied the drawer, threw that on the floor as well. “You got to do a better job of washing,” he said. “Cleanliness is next to godliness.”

Godliness.
The word came crackling through Mac’s fractured thoughts. He closed his eyes and prayed. He prayed the way Pastor Jon did sometimes. He prayed in the name of Jesus for protection from the Enemy. He prayed for the peace that passes all understanding. He prayed
the Lord is my shepherd
,
the Lord is my shepherd
,
the Lord is my
shepherd.

Slezak headed for the bathroom.

Just like last time.

He heard Slezak open the medicine cabinet and the metallic shuffling around. “You got any more of that Vicodin?” Slezak said.

Mac said nothing.
The Lord is my shepherd.

“Hey, I asked you a question,” Slezak said. “You got any drugs in this house?”

The Lord is my shepherd.

“MacDonald, I asked you a question.”

The Lord is my shepherd.

“You want to go down for non co-op?”

“The Lord is my shepherd,” Mac said out loud.

“What did you just say?”

“I think you heard me.”

Slezak came to him, almost nose to nose. “Think you can pull the wool, huh? You can’t. You’re gonna slip or you’re gonna crack, and I’ll be there to take it all down and see you back where you came from.”

In Mac’s head the shrapnel glowed, and he thought he might hit Slezak. He wanted to. He wanted to knock teeth out or worse. But something held his fist back.

Then Slezak hit him in the gut.

11:18 a.m.

Ted shook. He could not stop. His voice was making little burbling sounds. He thought he would faint right there. “What — ”

Then he felt Liz’s hands on his shoulders and her blue eyes looking straight at him. He fell into her gaze.

“Ted, stop.”

“ — did you do? Oh, my — ”

“Listen to me, Ted, listen!”

He stopped making sounds.

“I need your help,” Liz said. “I need you to be strong. I know you are strong. You are the only one who can help me. Please.”

She put her head into his chest and put her arms around him. He felt the electric charge of desire and male instinct to protect. He did not begin to comprehend why she had stabbed her cousin in the neck with a knife and was now covered with blood just as he was because she was holding him close. The warmth of her body, her breathing against him, calmed him.

He smoothed her hair with his hand, even though there was blood in her hair. He said, “I’m here. I’ll help you. I’ll help you.”

She said nothing, but her hot breath lit a fire on his chest and in his chest and it spread all over him. He couldn’t help himself. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back and pushed his mouth on hers before she could protest.

She didn’t protest but let him kiss her for what seemed like a whole minute. It must have been only a second.

Then she pulled away from him and said, “No, not now. Soon. But not now. We have to think.”

“Yes,” he said. “Yes.”

There was blood on the floor, lots of it, and Bill was facedown in it. The bloody knife was on the floor next to him. Ted was still shaking, but the reaction was now a mix of desire and longing and some weird sort of excitement. He was intoxicated.

“Why’d you do it?” Ted said.

“Because he’s a criminal. He came here to try to get money out of me. My life insurance. He knew about me.”

“But he’s your cousin.”

“Of course he’s not!”

She was angry with him now.
You stupid
,
stupid . . .

“Listen to me,” she said. “I had to kill him. He was going to kill me. He was probably going to kill you. Now we have to get rid of him.”

“But how?”

“I know how we can do it,” she said.

“But the blood . . .”

“We can do this. We can do this together. Why don’t you come with me?”

Did she really ask him that?
“Where?”

“I’m going to get out of here. I’m going to go away and start my life over again. Will you be part of that with me?”

This had to be a dream, an extreme dream, like the ones he had about jumping out of a plane with a snowboard and landing on the side of a snowy mountain, even though he had never been snowboarding in his life. He always thought it was a dream of something that would happen to him someday, and now he knew it
had
happened, only it was not a snowboard or mountain, it was a woman and a dead body and the chance to go away with her and feel alive.