Mind Games (28 page)

Both kissed her good night. “We’ll see you tomorrow then, baby,” Galen said.

When the door closed behind them, Lucier said. “Protective, isn’t he?”

Diana relaxed. “You have no idea.” She reached for the glass of water and grimaced from the stretch.

“Here, let me.” He brought the straw to her lips and she sipped. “How are you doing?”

“Better.”

“You look better.”

She laughed. “Ernie, I look like I just went ten rounds and lost every one. But thanks for saying so.”

“No, you do. There’s a light back in your eyes…um, eye.” They both laughed, then Lucier turned serious. “Diana, when Macon took you, I was frantic. I thought of last week and how I blew it.”

“You didn’t blow it. See, I’m still here. A little worse for wear, though. Something else.” She noted again the strange and beautiful color of his eyes. “That day at your house I wanted to make love to you in the worst way. I don’
t think that’s any surprise; I wasn’t very subtle. But after what’s happened, after what Macon did, I don’t know if I’ll ever feel that way again. Not because of you, but―”

“Shh.” He stroked back her hair. “You never have to do anything you don’t want to d
o. Ever.” He leaned close to her and kissed her forehead.

“That doesn’t mean you have to kiss my forehead. Kissing is okay. I have no problem with kissing.”

“We have plenty of time.” He brushed her lips, then reached for her hand and held tight. “You have to concentrate on getting well, and I have to concentrate on finding Macon so you’ll never feel threatened by him again.”

This time he caressed the sides of her swollen face and kissed her more deliberately.

“Now that’s more like it,” she said.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Nothing Beats a Little Luck

M
acon lay stretched across the bed in the dingy motel room, watching his face flash across the television screen in wavy lines. The smell of stale cigarette smoke hung in the musty air like rancid grease. He got up, paced the floor, and kicked thin air in frustration.

The strong premonition at Alice’s apartment that the police would burst in any minute prompted him to make her pack her things and leave. He’d debated whether to kill her or take her along, finally concluding that she’d be more help than hindrance. He made a wise decision. Aside from the physical satisfaction she eagerly offered, Alice’s face wasn’t plastered all over the networks. The desk clerk at the fleabag motel paid no notice when she checked them in. They were safe for a while.

“She found the girl. She wasn’t supposed to do that. I had her so messed up she couldn’t think, but she found her. How in hell did she do that?”

“Jeez, Harley, what’d ya send her the locket for if you didn’t want her to find the kid?”

He got right in her face. “That was the game, Alice,” he said, as if it were clear to everyone in the whole world but her. “Those were the rules. Don’t you understand, you stupid bitch? Those were the rules.”

Alice skulked down on the bed, saying nothing more to further incur his wrath. She eyed her bag and the door.

“What are you looking at the door for? You thinking of leaving? Huh? Is that what you’re thinking?”

“No, Harley. ’Course not, but you scare me when you talk like that. I don’t mind what you done or that you call me names. Everyone calls me names. I don’t even mind that we’re running from the police. It excites me. Like we’re Bonnie and Clyde, you know? But I don’t like when you yell at me. You scare me when you do that.”

He looked at her.
Shit, Harley, watch your temper. You need her.
He couldn’t have her running off at the first opportunity. “I’m sorry. I lost my head for a minute.” He hooked his index finger under her chin. “Won’t happen again.”

“Okay, Harley, okay.” She sat up bed. “So what’re ya gonna do?”

“I don’t know. I have to think.”

“Why don’t we get the hell out of here. Forget the game. Forget her. Let’s get another car and go to Mexico. They’ll never find us down there.”

He knew she was right, but he’d waited too long, obsessed twenty years too long. “By this time they must have found out about you. Probably know your car too.”

“You don’t know that. No one in the bar paid any attention to you.”

“Don’t be so sure. People don’t forget me. That’s the curse of good looks.”

“I wouldn’t know. Always been kinda average myself. Except for, you know, these.” She thrust out her chest.

“We don’t have time for that right now. Besides, I’m distracted. Can’t think about sex now.” But he had to admit, she turned him on. Visions of her naked, doing the things she did—
Stop, goddamn it, Harley. Not now.

He’d never met anyone like Alice before. The perfect woman. Totally immoral. Didn’t give a rat’s ass whether he was a murderer or a priest. All she cared about was fucking, and that suited him fine. Besides, she was loyal. Not a woman who’d leave him when another man came along.

“That woman’s gonna be the death of us both, Harley. Is she that important to you?”

He thought about Diana Racine, nodded. “Yeah, she is.”

“Okay then.” Alice got up on her knees. “Let’s do it.”

“We’ve got to get another car and someplace to stay.”

“I know a place. Lots of places.”

“Where?”

“There’s a lake not far from here. People go there in summer when it’s hot in the city. There might be a couple of people, but there are plenty of empty houses. We could go there and look around.”

“How far away?”

“About an hour’s all. We could find the most deserted house and stay there till this quiets down and your picture ain’t all over TV.”

“Hmm, might work. But we can’t take your car. I don’t trust the cops aren’t looking for it.”

“Then we’ll find another one. There’s a small used lot on the main road outside town. Guy who runs the place drinks like a fish and is smashed half the time. He won’t know nothing’s missing till tomorrow morning, and maybe not even then. By then we’ll be halfway to Mexico. It’s only a couple of miles. We can walk. That way, if they find my car here they won’t put it together so fast.” She stopped, turned. “Harley, you know how to hotwire a car?”

“I’ve never done it, but I can probably figure it out. How hard can it be? Cars get stolen every day.”

“Never mind. I can.”

“How do you know how?”

“My first husband, the one the cops wouldn’t leave alone. He drove the getaway car in a few robberies. That’s what finally broke up our marriage. Well, jail did that. He was a master. Taught me lots of stuff.

“You know, Alice. You’re not so stupid after all.”

“There’s still plenty of surprises left in me, Harley. I been holding back a few. When we get to the lake I’ll show you what I mean.”

Macon studied her. Yeah, good thing he took her along.

Macon took his small satchel, Alice carried the few things she brought in hers, and she led him from the motel onto a street parallel to the main road. It took a little more than an hour to cover the distance in the dark. Fifteen cars sat on the lot, older models in fair condition.

She rummaged through her cosmetic case and pulled out a nail file and a heavy-duty hairpin. She bent the flat end of the nail file into an L shape and straightened the hairpin, leaving a little kink in the end. “Before we resort to breaking a window and setting off an alarm, I got a better idea. Come on. Stay low. We gotta do this fast before anyone sees.”

The door to the office looked like he could kick it in, but if Alice could pick the lock, the owner might not be tipped off as soon, and it sure beat the hell out of setting off a car alarm.

“Ex-husband had many talents. Picking locks was one of them.” She stuck the bent part of the nail file into the lower part of the lock, the hairpin into the top part, and jiggled. When nothing happened, she jiggled some more, slowly turning the file. It took a couple of minutes, but the door unlocked.

“Very cool, woman.”

“Now all we have to do is find the keys. I want the one for the Camry over there on the left of the lot. There’s a zillion of ’em on the road. The cops’d have to stop every other car.”

“Well, looky there,” Macon said. A board with all the keys hung behind the desk. He found the right one.

“Beautiful. Woot, looky here.” She picked up a license plate. “Could anything be better than this? Let’s go.”

“Wait,” he said. He rummaged through the drawers, found a cash box, and took whatever was in it. “I’ll count it later.”

“Harley, you’re the best. When you aren’t murdering people, you’d make a great crook.” She turned the latch on the door to lock it, and they hustled back to the lot, ducking behind a car when a pickup went by. She fit the key into the door, flipped the locks. “Get in.”

He picked up the bags and tossed them in the back seat.

“I ain’t usually this lucky in life,” she said with a huge grin.

“Did I call you stupid before? You’re a genius. Now what?”

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

She turned the key in the ignition, put the car in gear, looked both ways to make sure no one was coming, and drove out of the lot. “I’m good, ain’t I?”

“Damn good, Alice. You are definitely damn good.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

An Unwanted Dinner Guest

W
hen Lucier got back to the boarding house that night, Galen Racine was holding court in the middle of the parlor, regaling his audience with stories about Diana like a proud father confident of his bragging rights. He eyed Lucier heading for the stairs.

“Have you had anything to eat, Lieutenant?” he asked.

“Huh? Uh, well no, I haven’t. Hadn’t given much thought to food, really.” Lucier climbed another step.

Mrs. Kirk, the owner of the boarding house, bustled toward the stairway and tugged at Lucier’s arm. “Come into the kitchen. There’s plenty of fried catfish, vegetables, and biscuits left from dinner. I’ll warm you a plate.”

“I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble this late. I’ll just go to my room and―”

“Nonsense. No trouble at all. I know how hard you’ve been working, and you away from home and all.”

“Well, if you’re sure. I am rather hungry.”

“I’ll come with you,” Galen
said. “Wouldn’t mind another serving of that delicious cobbler.”

Mrs. Kirk set a place at the long harvest table where she served dinner family-style, and proceeded to heap food onto a plate. While she warmed the dinner in the microwave, Galen helped himself to a large square of blueberry cobbler still warm on the stove. Lucier marveled at the man’s audacity, but Mrs. Kirk didn’t seem to mind his making himself at home. When the microwave beeped, she put the warmed plate in front of Lucier and poured a glass of iced tea.

“Enjoy now. I’m going to join my guests. If you want anything else, call. There’s plenty more where that came from. When you’re finished, Mr. Racine knows how to fix you a nice bowl of cobbler, don’t you, Mr. Racine?”

“Sure. No trouble at all.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Lucier said to her back as she waddled toward the parlor. His empty stomach welcomed Mrs. Kirk’s culinary skills, and his mouth watered before he lifted the fork. “Good food,” he said, devouring the tasty meal.

He looked to Diana’s father for affirmation and found the old man staring at him. After a long day, Lucier didn’t feel like getting into a conversation with Galen Racine. He’d known men like him, bigots who, whether out of ignorance, habit, or just plain hatred, would find him less than other men. He continued eating.

“My daughter likes you, you know,” Galen said between mouthfuls of cobbler, his teeth and lips a ghoulish blue. Lucier decided not to answer.

“What d’ya think of her?”

Lucier did a double take. The man wasn’t going to let him eat in peace. He should have gone up to his room with an empty belly. Sucking in a deep breath, he put down his fork. “Mr. Racine, I know how you feel. Really I do. But I don’t think we should be having this conversation.”

“I’m askin’ you straight out. Do you like her?”

“With all due respect, sir, how I feel about your daughter and what goes on between us is none of your business. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to eat my dinner minus the interrogation.” He forked a few pieces of fried okra and continued eating, ignoring his uninvited dinner partner.

“You know, Lieutenant, all that ever mattered to me was my daughter’s happiness. There were times I lost track of that and maybe forced her into things she didn’t want to do. She did them so’s not to disappoint me.

“I’m getting on, and in spite of what you must think of me, I’m still not too old to learn. I gotta be honest, you wouldn’t be first choice for my daughter—not even close—but if you’re what she wants, I ain’t standin’ in the way.”