Don't Cry for Me (18 page)

Sixteen

I
t was what mountain women called the witching hour. The sky was black with clouds, without a star to behold, and the moon was on the wane. The cloud cover was perfect for what Lonnie had come to do.

He arrived at the mine just after midnight. The chopper pilot killed the lights but kept the rotors turning. Lonnie jumped out, ducking beneath the backwash as he ran.

Buell was standing inside the mine with a rifle slung over his shoulder. After a month on a job and more money in his pocket than he’d ever had at one time in his life, he should have been happy, but it was just the opposite.

Guilt lay on his heart like a stone. He was at least twenty pounds lighter than he’d been when they started, and he’d lost that subservient manner he’d once had with his brother-in-law. He hated Lonnie’s guts for being trapped in this mess but lacked the balls to walk out.

“Is it ready to go?” Lonnie asked.

“Yes,” Buell said. “I told them you were here. They’re on their way out with the first load.”

Lonnie looked into the darkness at the far end of the cavern.

“I don’t see a fucking thing,” he snapped. “I can’t wait all night.”

Buell just stood there, letting Lonnie rant. Within seconds a faint glow appeared in the darkness, and as it grew brighter, it became apparent there were men behind it. When they got closer, Lonnie could see they were driving forklifts hauling pallets loaded with the bales of street-ready cocaine.

He smiled. This was the second batch to go out this month, and the money just kept rolling in.

“Load it up,” he ordered, waving toward the chopper and the pilot standing beside the open bay. Then he turned to Buell. “There’ll be a new load coming in from Mexico in two nights. I’ll be back to make the buy. I’ll need you and two of the others here for backup. Make sure you bring your rifles.”

Buell glared. “I got tricked into stirrin’ up your cocaine, but I ain’t turnin’ into your bodyguard and windin’ up in some gunfight. You want muscle when you do business, bring it with you. And this is your official notice that I am no longer on twenty-four-hour call. You want a night watchman, hire one.”

Lonnie flinched. Where was the fear he would have expected? This anger surprised him. He wanted to argue, but not in front of the men.

“On second thought, a bunch of hillbillies used to shooting squirrels aren’t who I need backing me up on a drug deal. Forget I mentioned it.”

Buell lifted his head in anger. “Just because you’re wearin’ fancy clothes and a big diamond ring don’t change the fact that you’re just as big a hillbilly as the rest of us. Gertie’s still your mama and Portia’s still your full-blood sister, and all the diamonds and money and fancy cars in the world ain’t gonna change that.”

Lonnie pushed a finger against Buell’s chest. “You work for me. You do what I say or else.”

“Or else what?” Buell snapped. “You wanna shoot me? Go ahead. Right now I’d rather be dead than keep doin’ what I’m doin’ for you. But you won’t have a single employee to do your dirty work when it’s over. And for what it’s worth, they wouldn’t let you walk off this mountain alive.”

Lonnie blinked. He hadn’t seen this coming.

“Fuck you. Get a little money in your pocket and you get a conscience,” he said.

“I kill animals. Unlike you, I don’t kill people. But don’t ever threaten me again or I might have to change my mind,” Buell snapped.

Lonnie took a deep breath, making himself calm down. He didn’t know when it would happen, or how he would do it, but he was going to make his sister a widow. No one threatened his life and lived to tell. It pained him to make her sad, but she would thank him in the long run.

He pointed at Buell, aiming his finger at him like a gun, then mimed pulling a trigger.

Buell flipped him off.

And that was how they parted.

The night crew loaded the cocaine and went back inside.

Buell went home, crawled into bed with Portia, then woke her up and fucked her. Something told him he’d better get it while the getting was good, because if he turned his back on Lonnie Farrell again, he would be dead.

* * *

Mariah began hearing the chopper before she was really awake. In her mind she and the other soldiers were watching it come into camp with the wounded. Medics were running toward it carrying stretchers, and the rotors were turning the sand into a maelstrom. In the distance, she could hear shelling from the firefight close by.

She felt something cold against her hand and then sat up with a jerk. Moses was standing beside the bed, waiting to be acknowledged, and Quinn was nowhere in sight. It was then she remembered that he’d been called out just before dark to help search for a child who’d gone missing from a campground.

“Sweet puppy, how do you always know when to bring me back?” she asked, and ruffled the hair between the growing pup’s ears.

She started to lie back down when she realized she was still hearing a chopper, and it scared her. Always before, the sounds of war had disappeared when she came to.

She jumped out of bed, her legs shaking and a knot in her belly as she started down the stairs. The sound kept getting louder and louder, like it was right over the cabin. Her heart was pounding, her hands damp with sweat. This must still be a dream. She only thought she was awake. All she had to do was look out the door and there would be sand as far as the eye could see. That was how she would know it was still a dream. That was when she would wake up.

She stumbled to the door as the sound began to recede and ran out onto the deck. There was no desert, no sand. Just trees looming in the dark. She looked up. The sky was black. No stars, no moon—and no lights anywhere in the sky from flying aircraft. But she could still hear it. Frightened, she ran around to the other side of the deck, searching the skies for a sign, but there was nothing. She looked out across the meadow, but without a moon it was impossible to see anything specific. The only thing she could make out was the chicken wire fence around the garden to the south of the cabin.

By now Moses was at her heels, whining with every step she took. He sensed her panic but couldn’t understand it.

Mariah ran back into the house with the pup beside her, then shut and locked the door.

“What the hell? What the hell? What’s happening to me?” she moaned, and began to pace.

Moses barked. She turned and touched the top of his head as he thrust his cold nose against her palm. The pup felt her discord. She wished she would heal as quickly as he had. Where he’d been skin and bones, there was now muscle and thick red fur.

All these weeks she’d been getting better, getting stronger, learning to deal with the episodes without feeling like such a failure. But this was new. She’d never had a hallucination like this and been awake.

She ran her hand through her hair, fingering the edges of the scar along her scalp. Was some long-hidden damage just now coming to the fore? Was an aneurysm ballooning, pushing on sensory nerves and waiting to explode, or was she just finally losing her mind?

Shaking from panic, she crawled up into Quinn’s chair, pulled her knees up against her chest and hid her face. She should have known the devil wasn’t done with her yet. She’d wanted Quinn and this life too much, and this was what she got for wanting. Maybe it wasn’t her fate to be happy.

* * *

Quinn was tired and itchy. They’d traipsed all over a good portion of the park before the little boy had been found, but it was all part of the job. Except for a few bug bites and being scared of the dark, the child was safe and unharmed.

The sun was just coming up when Quinn drove up to the cabin and parked. He got out, stretching wearily, and couldn’t wait to get a shower and crawl into bed. When he unlocked the front door, Moses met him at the threshold.

“Hey, buddy,” Quinn said softly, and squatted down to pet the gangly pup.

Then he saw Mariah curled up in the chair. His first thought was that she must have had a bad episode to be down here instead of up in their bed. He stepped inside and shut the door, then hurried to her side.

She seemed okay. No skinned places, nothing bloody or swollen, so he didn’t think she’d taken a fall.

He put a hand on her arm.

“Mariah? Honey?”

She jumped. “Huh? What? Oh, Quinn, it’s you. Sorry, you startled me.”

“I’m sorry, baby, but since you were asleep in the chair, I thought you might have had a bad night. Are you okay?”

Immediately the dread came back into her heart, but when she saw the fear on his face, she knew she wasn’t going to tell.

“I had a bad dream, and then Moses and I were awake, so I took him out to pee. When we came back inside I sat down for a bit. I don’t remember falling asleep.”

“It’s just after six. Why don’t you get back in bed? I’m gonna shower and then crawl into bed myself. I’m beat.”

“Did you find the little boy?”

“Yeah. He got out of their tent to go to the bathroom, and then got turned around and couldn’t find his way back. Poor little guy. He was scared, but he’s fine.”

Mariah got up and started to hug him when he stopped her.

“Honey, I stink and I itch. Let me go shower, then I promise you a big hug and a kiss.”

“I’m going to let Moses out. I’ll be up in a minute,” she said.

Quinn blew her a kiss and then headed for the utility room, stripping as he went, but instead of going back upstairs to clean up, he showered downstairs. When he came out, Mariah was already in bed. Moses was on the floor next to her, curled up on his rug. They were both asleep.

Quinn crawled into bed beside her, kissed the back of her ear and then pulled her up against him and closed his eyes.

* * *

When they woke, it was almost noon and Moses was running down the stairs, barking.

Someone was coming up the driveway.

They flew out of bed, frantically grabbing clothes.

Quinn managed to get a pair of jeans on and ran downstairs in his bare feet, putting on a T-shirt as he went. Mariah was still struggling with fastening her bra when he yelled up at her, “Don’t worry. It’s only James.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” she called back. “He’s seen
you
naked, but not me, and I have no wish for that to change.”

Quinn was laughing when he went out onto the deck.

James waved as he got out, carrying a box.

Moses bailed off the deck and immediately went to James’s truck, where he began sniffing the tires.

“Hello, brother! That pup you found is filling out real good.”

“Yeah, regular meals will do that,” Quinn drawled.

“That they will. As you can see, I am here in my official capacity as the mailman to deliver a package that was too large for your mailbox.”

Quinn’s interest shifted. “Oh, good…that’s the stuff I ordered for Mariah. It’s a surprise.”

James eyed the mailing label, recognized the name of a familiar department store and grinned.

“I’m thinking you’re gonna get lucky tonight.”

Quinn frowned. “Seriously, James, maybe you could say that a little louder. I don’t think she heard you.”

James had the grace to look embarrassed. “Oh. Yeah, right, I wasn’t thinking. Sorry.”

Quinn thumped him on the side of his head and then took the box out of his hands.

“You’re such a goof,” he said.

Happy to be off the shit list, James grinned again. When he saw Mariah coming out the front door he waved and started toward her.

The pup immediately put himself between Mariah and James, and then growled.

“Whoa,” James said. “Good watchdog you got there, Mariah.”

“Moses. Sit,” Mariah said. The pup sat, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as if he was laughing.

“What did you bring us?” Mariah asked, as James gave her a hug.

He grinned and winked. “I’m just delivering the mail. I guess the rest is for Quinn to tell. And speaking of mail, I’d better get back at it. You all have a good day.”

“Tell Julie and the kids we said hi,” Quinn said.

“Will do.”

James backed up and drove away as they went inside. Moses nosed at all four sides of the box as Quinn set it on the floor.

“What’s that?” Mariah asked.

He cut the packing tape and opened the top. “It’s for you.”

A big smile spread across her face. “For me? What is it?”

“Look and see, and make sure to save all the tags. If you don’t like them or they don’t fit, we can send them back.”

Mariah dug into the box, pulling out one shirt after another, then three pairs of nice slacks and two pairs of dressy jeans, while her face turned pink and her eyes lit up like it was Christmas.

“Oh, Quinn! Oh, honey! These are beautiful. I can’t believe you did all this. It must have cost a fortune.”

She stood up, holding a shirt against her for size, then saw there was more in the box and went back in.