That Touch of Ink (14 page)

TWENTY-TWO

I don’t know guns. I haven’t shot one, haven’t held one, don’t endorse the ownership of one. I favor gun control and believe that more damage can be done by keeping a loaded gun in a house than not. As I stared at the gun from Brad’s bag, with Rocky on my left side and a pile of Brad’s clothes on my right, I couldn’t define why I had to look at it, or what I thought I would discover once I held it in my hand. I only knew it seemed like a good idea to know something.

My body went numb. My legs, my arms, my breathing, my ability to move, all stopped. As I stared at the box, I knew my reaction spoke volumes of my true feelings. I had to get out of the apartment and talk to Tex.

I stuck the gun between the mattress and box spring of my bed and shoved the box back into Brad’s duffle bag. For the second time in two days I had to sneak out during the night.

The water was still running in the bathroom, and I needed Brad’s shower to continue indefinitely. I had to get out of the apartment and I had to ensure he wouldn’t follow me.

I carried the martini pitcher into the kitchen. Another drink. I’d make him another drink.

“Rocky, stand guard,” I commanded. He stared at me, his brown eyes wide with judgment. The water shut off in the bathroom. I pulled the jar of olives from the refrigerator and used the tip of a red plastic sword to extract the pimento from the center. I pulled a spoon from the dishwasher and took my prescription pain killers from a drawer.

Swiftly, I pulled a pill from the small amber vial, cracked the plastic capsule, and poured the contents into the middle of the olive. I capped both ends with slivers from the pimento. Next I crushed two melatonin pills with the back of a soup spoon and dumped the powder into the pitcher. I stirred it with a glass swizzle until it dissolved to clear. Brad rounded the corner, dressed only in a towel wrapped low on his waist. His torso was lean and muscular. I looked away.

“I was going to surprise you,” I said. I refilled his glass and held the drink out to him.

I picked my glass up from the counter.

“To the truth,” Brad said, holding his glass out for a toast. “No more secrets.”

“To the truth,” I repeated and clinked my glass against his. I faked a sip and watched him.

He lifted the red plastic sword to his mouth and pulled the olive off with his teeth. He rolled it around in his mouth and poured the contents of the glass down his throat.

“Come with me,” Brad said. He took my hand and led me to the bedroom. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t pretend to go to bed with a man I didn’t trust. As we entered the bedroom, I paused by the vintage record player that I kept in the corner and placed the needle on the beginning of the first song. Doris Day’s voice, crisp and clear, surrounded us.

When I turned around, Brad held out a pair of white cotton pajamas to me. He folded down the thin duvet that covered the bed. I picked the duvet up by the corner and put it back.

Brad ran a hand over my hair. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you a second time. Every day I regret what happened with us. If you give me the chance, I’ll spend every day making it up to you, but I’m not going to rush you. I’ll be on the sofa.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead.

Rocky jumped on the bed and nuzzled my hand. I looked away. Was it possible I was so screwed up in the relationship department that I had fabricated a reason to drug an innocent man? No. The reason was as plain as the gun sandwiched between the layers of my bed.

“If you need me, I’ll be right outside.” He stifled a yawn. “I’m pretty tired, so I hope we get through the night with no new emergencies.”

“Goodnight, Brad.”

He left the room. The music drowned out any sounds he made from the living room. The only thing left for me to do was wait. Wait for the album to end. Wait for Brad to fall asleep. Wait for a chance to get out of there.

I went into the bathroom. I turned on the shower but didn’t get under the spray. Condensation appeared on the mirror as I changed into my pajamas. After several minutes I cracked the door and listened. Brad’s snores sounded from the sofa.

I turned off the shower and crept into my bedroom. Rocky was on the bed. I slid the gun out from under the mattress. I zipped it into a turquoise cosmetic bag I’d gotten as a gift with the purchase of a large tube of sunscreen and placed it at the bottom of the green canvas tote bag I used when I went to the pool. I threw in a self-belted green tunic and matching pants and a pair of brown loafers. I tiptoed out to the living room and stood by the end of the sofa.

Brad lay on his side, facing the opposite wall. There was probably a 10 percent chance that he would wake up when I opened the door, but I was willing to take those odds. I scribbled out a note:
Went to Physical Therapy. Didn’t want to wake you. –M
. I clipped Rocky’s leash on his collar and closed my fist around the building keys that sat on the desk.

Slowly, I turned the first deadbolt. When the tumbler fell out of place, I turned around and looked at Brad. He didn’t move. I opened the second lock and twisted the doorknob. Time to go. I set my tote bag in the hallway, set the note on the desk by the computer monitor, and then moved into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind me.

We tiptoed down the hallway. Faint light from the front of the building cast enough of a glow to guide us. Rocky led the way to the stairs and down to the front door. The Explorer was still parked by Connie and Ned’s house, so I called for a taxi and arranged for a pick-up.

The taxi driver was waiting by the gas station at the corner of Gaston and Glasgow, just like I’d requested. Rocky and I climbed into the back seat, and I gave him directions to Thelma Johnson’s house. I wondered if I’d ever think of it as mine.

I paid the driver in small bills and let myself in the back door. With a small flashlight, I highlighted my path so I wouldn’t bump into anything. I unclipped Rocky from his leash and he bounded inside. I wanted to be more tired than I was.

I looked out the front window for signs of life but there were none. Thelma Johnson had lived in a neighborhood that went to bed by ten o’clock every night. Far be it from me to be the new resident who interrupted the peace.

Rocky danced around my ankles. I picked him up and he lapped my cheek. This was the kind of affection I craved. The kind that didn’t come with strings attached or secret agendas.

I found two bowls in the cabinet over the sink. I filled one with water from the tap and shook a small amount of dog food into the other. I set them up along the wall under the window and put Rocky next to them. He buried his head in his food while I headed upstairs to assemble the bed Joanie had delivered.

It surprised me to find it was already put together and made up with a set of floral sheets. A light blue blanket trimmed in a border of satin covered the bed. I fluffed the pillows and headed back downstairs to the kitchen, hoping she’d put something in the fridge for me to eat. I tipped my head back then rolled it from side to side. I’d spent too many nights sleeping on floors. It was taking its toll on me.

There was a carton of milk in the door of the refrigerator. I checked the expiration date. It was new. I pulled the plastic tab from under the screw cap and drank directly from the spout.

“She looks like Doris Day, but she drinks her milk from the carton. Do the surprises never stop with you, Night?”

I dropped the carton and spun around. A flood of milk chugged out of the open nozzle and saturated my canvas sneakers.

Tex crossed the kitchen and picked up the container. He set it on the counter and looked at me. I slapped him across the face.

“What?” he said, immediately covering the sting with his palm.

“What—where—how did you get in here?” I demanded.

He leaned against the blue and white floral wallpaper and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m having a hard time figuring you out, Night.”

“Must you call me by my last name?”

“You were telling the truth. You really do own the place.” He rubbed his cheek a bit more. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“I’m waiting for answers.”

He opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a roll of paper towels. I watched him unwind a healthy amount from the roll and sop up the milk on the floor. When he was done, he stood back up and tossed the wad over my head into a small trash bin nestled in the corner of the kitchen, easily making the shot.

“You know, I could have you arrested for trespassing,” I said.

“And I could have you arrested for assaulting a cop.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t. But you tried to have me arrested for Grand Theft Auto nine months ago, remember? You’re so desperate for me to be locked up that I’m starting to wonder if you don’t trust yourself around me.”

“I trust myself around you just fine.”

“You sure? Because those aren’t the signals you’re sending.”

I blushed, remembering our kiss in front of the house earlier. “I’m not messing around here, Tex.”

“Considering you had a twin bed delivered to your secret hideaway, it’s pretty obvious you’re not messing around here. I would place money on the fact that you’re not messing around anywhere.”

“How do you know about the bed?”

“Who do you think put it together?” He opened up a cabinet and pulled two stemmed glasses down, then opened another cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine.

I leaned forward and looked into the cabinet that, earlier today, had been empty. Tex pulled a corkscrew from a drawer and opened the wine.

“You haven’t stocked the place up yet. That tells me your residence here is temporary. I took a few liberties earlier today.”

He poured the wine and held a glass out toward me. I crossed my arms over my pajamas and waited for an explanation.

“Thelma Johnson kept a spare key hidden,” he said.

“I know. It’s under the flower pot behind the back door. I asked a friend to bring me some stuff. She was supposed to take the key back with her.”

“I convinced her to leave it with me.”

“Why would Joanie trust you?”

“I may have shown her my badge. I don’t remember.”

“How did you even know about that key? You haven’t spent time in this house for twenty years.”

He shrugged. “Earlier today when I was watering your untended gardens,” he paused for a moment, “I happily discovered that some things don’t change.” He hooked his wrist through the handles on my duffle bag and picked up the two glasses of wine. “Hey little fella,” he said to Rocky. “Lead the way.”

Rocky yipped, and the two of them left the room. Seconds later footsteps sounded on the stairs.

I followed them up the stairs into the bedroom. Tex unrolled a sleeping bag next to the bed. He lowered himself onto the bag and set the two glasses on the floor. He ran his open hand over Rocky’s head.

“So here we are, Night,” he said softly. “Time to let your guard down.”

I didn’t expect tears to fill my eyes and run down my cheeks. My chest ignited like a fiber optic lamp with glowing filaments that tickled from the inside. I swiped the tears off my cheek and inhaled sharply. The following exhale happened slowly, through pursed lips, as though I were blowing a hot breath through cold air.

As I sat on the floor, with Rocky curled up on the twin bed and Tex two feet away from me, I knew I was at the right place at the right time. There was a reason Tex was sitting in front of me. There was something I had to do, and he was the only person who could make it happen.

A collection of clouds passed in front of the moon, darkening the room temporarily. I leaned forward and swept my blonde hair behind my shoulder. Tex’s eyes held mine. Being alone with him in the middle of the night gave me a new perspective.

“Lieutenant, there’s this thing between us, and I’m pretty sure it’s been there since we met. It’s time for you to act on your impulses. I won’t fight you.”

He didn’t move, didn’t say a word.

“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” I said softly.

“No, I’m not. I need you to spell it out.”

I took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. I arched my back slightly and gently shook my head side to side. I lowered my chin and let my hair fall forward to better frame my face. I’d never asked a man to do this before in my life, but there was a first time for everything. I exhaled and leaned closer to him, dropped my eyes to the floor, and slowly let them move up Tex’s body until they reached his eyes. It was go time.

“Lt. Allen, I need you to take me into custody.”

TWENTY-THREE

Tex reached across the sleeping bag to my pajama top and adjusted it slightly. For a second, I thought he misunderstood me. I swatted his hand away.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Oh, I heard you alright.”

“So?”

“That was quite an act. Is that what you think I want?”

“I think the thought has crossed your mind.”

He shook his head and leaned back on his hands. “Exactly what is it you’ve done that would motivate me to arrest you?”

“For starters, I’ve been withholding evidence.”

A subtle squint at his eyes brought out creases that belied his age. His jaw line went rigid, too, and his temples moved ever so slightly, a sign that he was clenching and unclenching his teeth. Gone was the smoldering darkness I’d played to moments before.

“What kind of evidence?” he asked.

I leaned to the side and snagged one of the handles of my tote bag. I pulled it toward me until I could put both hands on the bottom and flip it over. The contents spilled out in a pile of vintage clothes, loafers, an overnight kit, and an embarrassingly lacy bra and panty set. The last thing that fell out of the bag was the turquoise makeup bag. I handed it to Tex still zipped.

“Look inside.”

He did as he was told. I didn’t know what kind of a reaction I expected, but no reaction was worse than anything I could have imagined. The room was dark, but my eyes had adjusted to the minimal light coming from the moon.

“Where did you get this?”

“I found it with Brad’s things earlier tonight.” I waited for another question, but Tex was silent. “It could be completely legit. He could have a permit to carry it. He’s been nothing but nice since he showed back up. He redid my living room for me, and he’s been giving me my space. He even explained what happened back in Pennsylvania.”

Tex stared at me. “When did you ask him about Pennsylvania?”

“Tonight, after the car accident.”

Tex ran his hand over his hair twice. “What car accident? Damn it, Night, I left you alone for twelve hours. Could you not stay out of my investigation for half a day?”

“This isn’t about your investigation, it’s about my life.” We stared at each other for a few seconds. “Okay, it might be about your investigation too. I’ll let you be the judge.”

“Start with what happened after I left you at your studio.”

“First let me tell you about what Brad told me. He admitted that he knows Grant Bonneville and Philip Shayne from Philadelphia. Grant Bonneville is kind of my client. He’s staying at Turtle Creek Luxury Apartments, and I found out there’s a bed of poison ivy across the street from the apartment complex under the foot bridge. Is that enough to bring him in?”

“Night, I have a homicide at Paper Trail. Nothing about that crime connects back to anything you’re talking about except for the name Philip Shayne. Turlington’s arrival in Dallas puts him closer than anybody else we’ve found.”

“You think he cut the brakes on my car?”

Tex looked confused.

“Connie Duncan, my client. You met her the other day, remember?” He nodded. “She borrowed my car and was in an accident. The brakes went out and she slammed into the back of a semi. She’s at Baylor Hospital right now.” I didn’t realize my voice had risen, but it had. I actively dropped the volume. “It was my car, Tex. I should have been driving, not her. She could have been killed. If I were driving, I could have been killed. Someone tampered with my car to send a message. I know Brad’s involved in something bad, but I don’t think he would have cut the brakes on my car. I don’t see it.”

His eyes drilled into me. I almost wished the moon would drop behind a set of clouds and blacken the room again, but it didn’t.

“You don’t think he could have done it?”

“No, I don’t.”

“What happened next?” 

“Brad took me home. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I told him I needed to know what happened in Pennsylvania before he lied to me.”

“And?”

“There’s something else I have to tell you before we get to that.”

“What else, Night? What else haven’t you told me?”

I knew I needed to tell Tex that the original five thousand dollar bill was missing. I knew it, but I was afraid to say it.

“I’m a responsible person. I own a business and an apartment building. I pay my taxes and have good credit. So how come, all of a sudden, every person around me seems like they have motives that I can’t see? Even you, here. Why are you really here, Tex? You could avoid your girlfriend by going to a hotel or a strip club. You didn’t do either. You came to me. Why? What could possibly have been going through your mind to make you show up here in the middle of the night? What were you thinking?”

“You want to know what I’m thinking? Here it is.” He leaned in close. “I think your judgment is clouded because you were in love with this guy once, but he hurt you, badly, and you’re afraid to trust him. Brad Turlington represents a part of yourself you thought was gone, but the Madison I know, this woman in front of me, was born the day you put him out of your life and your mind. I think you are a strong, smart, and sexy woman, but you’re the absolute worst person to determine if Turlington’s on the level or not. I think you are searching for something to anchor yourself to and you can’t tell if this is it, if this relationship with Turlington is the last thing you’ll have a chance to grab.”

I stared at Rocky, the mainstay in my life post-Brad. He twitched in his sleep, like he was chasing phantoms in his dreams. How well I knew the feeling. How unprepared I was to hear Tex spell it all out to me.

“You’re on the brink of not being able to trust anybody, Night. You have to work out your issues on your own time, but this isn’t about you anymore. Your personal choices are yours, but right now, your choices are putting innocent people in danger.”

I couldn’t make eye contact for fear Tex would see too much, but I knew the only way to break any kind of spell—the only way to clear the clouded judgment—was to calmly, rationally, acknowledge the truth. Tex was as good a person as any to help me sort through the trash in my mind. In a voice so quiet I could barely hear it myself, I started to talk.

“Last night, I found a leather briefcase in the trunk of Brad’s car. It had the letters PS on it.”

“Philip Shayne?” Tex interjected.

“I think so.”

“Do you know so?”

“There was a four number lock on the valet. The numbers were at one-two-three-four.”

“Not exactly a difficult combination to guess.”

“That wasn’t the combination. The combination was four-three-two-one.” I waited a couple of seconds for Tex to comment again. When he didn’t, I continued.

“I share a birthday with Doris Day. April third. When Brad and I first started dating, we discovered our birthdays were four-three-two-one. April third, Feb first.” I spared Tex the notion that the dates seemed significant at the time. “When I saw the spinners on the lock turned to the numbers one-two-three-four, I had a hunch. Turned out I was right.”

Tex shook his head. “Coincidence is well and good, but in police work, we like our clues a little more concrete.”

“Think about this, Tex. Someone dropped off a box of stuff to Joanie’s store. It had my name on it. Philip Shayne’s wallet was in the box along with a bunch of other Doris Day memorabilia. Maybe Brad dropped off the stuff. Maybe he set that combination because he was thinking back to those days at Pierot’s Interior.”

“Or, he put your name on the box, stashed a couple of lobby cards inside to throw anybody off and made sure you’d end up with it. If he’s the one who killed Shayne, then—”

“He’s not a killer,” I said instinctively.

“Are you sure of that?” Tex countered. He moved his hand to the outside of the turquoise satin cosmetic bag that held the gun.

I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. “Something changed with him. I don’t know what it is. He’s afraid of something. He’s scared, and he’s trying to hide it, but he came to me. He needs my help. If he’s trying to move on, if he’s telling the truth, I can’t just ignore him. My biggest problem is that I can’t trust him.”

“Do you trust me, Night?”

I nodded. “Don’t let this go to your head, but the only reason I keep pushing aside my doubts about Brad is because you said to trust him.”

“I didn’t tell you that.”

“Yes, you did. When you came to my apartment, you said he checked out. You don’t remember?”

He sat up. “Shit.”

“What?”

“When his name came up in connection to the investigation I asked Donna to check him out and let me know if she found anything. She’s the one who said he was clean.”