Night Hunter (10 page)

He ignored them. Then he began to laugh, a low chuckle deep in his throat.

She stiffened. “What the hell’s so funny?” she snapped.

“
Send in the clowwwwns,” he sang out.

She dropped the aspirin on his bed and lightly touched her face. You’re just not used to it. It took me a minute to—”

“
A minute? A minute? You wasn’t expectin’ to go out like that, was you?”

She glared at him.

“
Girl, are you a complete fool? Look at yerself. No, not now,” he said, when she turned to leave the room. “Wait till you’re sober, then have a good long look.”

“
You’re just being mean.”

“
Lookit yer goddamn eye. Did’ya think no one’d notice that?”

“
I’ll wear the patch ...”

Again he laughed dryly, then became solemn. “Cory, your hair ...”

“
What’s wrong with it?”

“
That cute littl’ trick with the waves and curls only makes it worse.”

She touched the hair at her temples.

“
What’s got into you? Christ almighty, daughter, don’t you understand? It ain’t the eye. It ain’t the scars,” he said in a quiet voice filled with pity, “It’s that ridiculous hairdo and that shitty paint slapped all over yer face. I don’t mean to hurt‘cha, Cory. I just don’t want you making a fool of yerself and yer ol’ man. Go wash it off. Wash it off and comb your hair right and forget this crazy notion that…” His words trailed off.

“
I hate you,” she whispered. A rage welled up inside her, destroying the wonderful, dreamy cloud on which, only moments ago, she had floated. A stark, painful realization began to creep in.

She staggered back, dropping the Dr. Pepper to the floor. Foam and amber liquid shot upward across her skirt and jacket. “God, I hate you. It’s all your fault I look like this. If you hadn’t been such a loser, I’d be normal today. I hate you, I hate you with everything that’s inside me. I wish you’d die.” And with that she grabbed the syringe of insulin off the tray and ran from the room.

“
Cory, bring that back here!” her father shouted.

In the bathroom, Corinne stepped to the mirror and, without any coy tactics this time, seeing through his eyes, glared hard at herself. Her stomach knotted painfully.

The rose-colored foundation, unblended at the jawline, looked as though it had been put on with a trowel. Clumps of the heavy concealer stood out on the raised, puckered skin. Her eyelids glittered, raccoon-like, with rainbow dust. Bright lipstick was pasted on an overly outlined mouth.

Her hair, so meticulously teased and styled, swept forward across her face, covering most of the disfigured portion from hairline to throat.

“
Oh, sweet Jesus,” she whispered hoarsely, as she dragged the back of her arm across her red lips.

“
Cory,” her father called out. “Now don’t be foolish. Bring me my insulin, honey. I gotta have it, y’know.
Cory?”

Corinne threw the syringe in the toilet and flushed it down.

C
HAPTER 14

Amelia pressed the kohl eyeliner pencil to a tiny brown spot located to the right of her mouth and transformed a mole into a beauty mark. Studying herself in the mirror, she was pleased with the way Garson had worked her dark, mahogany-tinted hair into a dramatic upsweep; sleek and smooth both back and sides, yet full and curly on top. She gave it a final spritz of hair spray.

She’d booked the entire morning at the La Dolce Salon for a massage, manicure and pedicure, a facial, and lastly, hair color and styling, to which all had been billed to Matthew’s credit card. Also billed but not received was a permanent wave; the returned cash, her rebate as she so fondly called it, was tucked securely in her eyeglass case. And now, at one o’clock, just hours before the taping of ‘City Gallery’, she sat at her vanity in an ivory teddy applying the finishing touches.

Everything must be perfect, she told herself. For her future success, she wanted her appearance on the TV show to be both spectacular and memorable.

Open on the bed were her crimson weekender bag and matching tote. She had done most of the packing earlier that morning for her trip with Fletcher to the wine country. They had a room at the Meadowvale Inn in Napa for tonight and Saturday night. Stubbing out her thin cigarette, she rose, tossed her jewelry case into the bag, then strolled into the enormous walk-in closet that she shared with Matthew.

With the new dress in one hand and the snakeskin pumps in the other, Amelia sensed someone nearby. She turned sharply, startled by the man in the doorway.

“
My God, Matt.” She put a hand to her chest, feeling the pounding underneath her fingers. Since the man in black had accosted her five days ago, she had been seeing menacing shapes in all the shadows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“
What are you doing home so early? I thought you’d go straight from the courthouse to the club. Don’t you have gin rummy tonight?—it’s Friday.”

He moved forward, reaching out to touch the dress. “Is this what you bought to wear on the show today?”

She nodded. “Do you like it?”

His fingers flicked at the peplum skirt, then slowly moved along its hem to the price tag. He lifted the tag and scrutinized it. “Very much. Your taste, as always, is impeccable.”

“
Thank you, dear,” she said with a slight tightness in her voice. “And your generosity is without parallel.”

“
Do I get a kiss for the dress and the shoes and—what was it today, the entire beauty works at La Dolce’s?”

She tried to make her smile warm, sincere. Leaning forward, she kissed his mouth lightly, careful not to smear her lipstick.

Matthew’s arms came around her, pulling her to him. His mouth covered hers in a wet, rough, tongue-searching kiss.

The lipstick could be repaired, she thought, trying to remain calm. But when she felt his erection against her stomach she wanted to scream. He was kissing her with fervor now, and she knew there was no escaping what was to come. Saying no to Matthew had its ill consequences. It could mean doing without material goodies for as long as he was hurt by the rejection.

Matthew had unzipped his fly and was pulling at her teddy as he coaxed her to the floor.

Oh Christ, her hair would be destroyed by the thick carpet and there would be no time to have it redone.

“
Here. Standing up,” she whispered in his ear. Naturally she’d have to shower and douche afterwards and fix her makeup, but if she hurried ...

“
I’m yours however you want me.”

Without another word, she reached down, took hold of his erection, and guided him inside her, at the same time stealing a peek at her Gucci watch. Amelia knew it wouldn’t take long. It never did with him.

Moments later, when he climaxed, his hands came up to cup her face as his fingers wove in her hair, twisting. Amelia felt hair pins loosening. She pulled at his arms, but it was too late, he was beyond anything save fulfilling his own desires. He made a grunting noise, then dropped his hands.

With a smile, he stepped back and opened his eyes. “Oh, I’ve mussed your hair,” he said. “Can you fix it?”

Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded lamely, looking away.

“
Well, good.” He slipped on a magenta silk robe.

She hurried into the bathroom. When she glanced in the mirror over the double marble sink, she wanted to cry. Without a doubt, she was a total wreck. “Oh, how I hate you, Matthew Corde,” she whispered to her mirrored image. “If you can’t do me the favor of dropping dead, then at least have the decency to become impotent.”

Long ago she had given up any hopes of burying him while she was still young and beautiful. They had no children and Matthew had no close relatives. Although she had never seen the will, he had indicated that if he died everything he had was hers. Therein lay the catch. Knowing Matthew as she did, out of sheer meanness he would contrive to outlive her.

Half an hour later, sitting at her vanity, Amelia managed to finish the repair work. The upsweep wasn’t quite the same, but it would have to do. Matthew reclined on the bed, watching her.

“
When will you return from visiting your parents?” he asked.

“
Sunday evening. I wouldn’t even go, but you know I have an obligation.”

“
Perhaps I’ll go with you this time.”

Amelia’s throat became thick and constricted. In the mirror she watched a vein at the side of her neck throb wildly. “Go with me?”

“
We could take the Rolls. The weather is good and, God knows I could use some time away from the courthouse.”

She swiveled around to face him, forcing herself to look and act normal. “Yes, why don’t you come? Mother and father would love to see you. In fact, cancel your card game and we’ll leave as soon as I return from the taping.” She smiled broadly. “Yes, Matthew, do.”

He stared at her a moment, a pleased look on his face, then shook his head. “No. It was just an idea, and a bad one at that. Your father and I don’t see eye to eye, as you well know. The man never could fully accede to me, or anyone for that matter, spoiling his little girl as he once did so extravagantly.”

If Daddy’d had your money, Matthew, his little girl would’ve been spared two decades of vile subjugation as your wife.

Her face and throat were on fire.

Tammy sucked in her breath as she cautiously dabbed a cotton pad saturated with a solution of refrigerated witch hazel and white vinegar over her burning skin.

“
That sonofabitch,” she said between clenched teeth, though she knew she had no one but herself to blame.

Dr. Lampossi had given her a prescription for Retin-A, with instructions to use it with extreme caution. If a little was good, than a lot had to be better, she thought, as she liberally applied the cream twice as often as the instructions had stated. She also ignored his warnings of sunbathing.

“
Sherry! Kerry!” she shouted. “C’mere a sec.”

The twins came through the door together as though joined at the hip. They moved slowly into their mother’s bedroom.

Tammy turned to face them. “Does it look any better?”

They glanced at each other before looking down at the tops of their matching Reeboks.

“
Well?” Tammy asked impatiently “Do I look like a lobster?”

They giggled. Sherry said, “You could never look like a lobster, Mom. They’re gross.”

“
You know what I mean,” Tammy said. She had turned back to the mirror and gingerly pressed fingertips into the bright pink flesh. “With makeup, it should be okay.”

“
You’re not gonna put makeup on your burned face, are you, Mom?” Kerry asked incredulously.

“
Of course I am. Don’t be a lamebrain. All right, you two, go on, get outta here so I can get ready.”

The twins hurried out.

From a prescription bottle in her medicine cabinet, Tammy shook out a painkiller. She swallowed it along with a Valium.

Taking her time, she curled her hair with a curling iron and then plucked her eyebrows, giving the painkiller and Valium a chance to numb all her senses. Before putting on the makeup, she rinsed her face again and again in a sink filled with ice and water.

As she applied a liquid foundation, she fought back the tears. At last she was done. She combed out her pale blond hair and swept it up into a bright pink banana clip.