by Sue Grafton
Ty said, “Let’s move it. I think we can make it to the truck before he turns around and comes back.”
They picked their way out of the room and tiptoed along the corridor until they reached the back stairs and started down. Liza nearly fell over Ty, not realizing he’d stopped to listen again. Nothing. Liza held on to his T-shirt as they passed the butler’s pantry and from there traversed the cavernous kitchen, which was bathed in soft gray light. The moon, in its last quarter, was visible through one of the kitchen windows.
Outside they race-walked across the grass to the shed. Ty felt his way down the length of the truck until he could open the driver’s-side door. Liza climbed in first and crawled across the seat to make room for him. Ty climbed in after her and slid under the wheel. He pulled the door shut without slamming it, careful not to make a sound. They sat then, scarcely daring to breathe. Ty torqued himself around, staring out the rear window at the darkened yard. The width and breadth of the house blocked all view of the front, but there was an illusion of hearing more acutely when one stared at the source.
Liza said, “Do you think we should risk it?”
“Not yet.”
Liza had a sudden thought and put a hand on his arm. “We forgot the sleeping bag!”
“Don’t worry about it. We can pick it up next time.”
“But what if he comes across it?”
Ty held a finger to his lips and they fell silent again. Ten long minutes passed and then they heard the grumbling of one of the big machines, engine grinding to life, shattering the stillness. When the racket continued, Ty took advantage of the noise to cover the starting of his truck. He backed out of the shed and crept along the service road with his headlights out.
When they cleared the house, they could see a shape as lumbering as a tank crawling in the opposite direction. Ty continued down the service road with Liza praying he wouldn’t steer them into a tree. Finally, he felt safe enough to turn on his fog lights, which provided sufficient illumination for their agonizingly slow escape.
Saturday morning, the Fourth, Liza called the Cramer house. She hoped to have a conversation with Kathy in which she could casually mention her mother’s illness to reinforce the fib. Telling the same lie more than once made it seem more real. Mrs. Cramer answered and said Kathy really wasn’t able to come to the phone. Her voice was chilly, and Liza knew Kathy had blabbed to her about their fight. “Well, would you tell her I called?”
“Of course.”
Liza didn’t see how Kathy would ever find out she was babysitting for Violet instead of staying at home with her mother as she’d claimed. Ty had begged her to let him come over to the Sullivans’ and keep her company and, of course, she’d agreed. Early in the afternoon she wandered over to Violet’s. Foley was off somewhere, and Liza was hoping she and Violet could have a heart-to-heart talk. Unfortunately, Daisy was in the bedroom, playing with her paper dolls, and it didn’t seem advisable, given the subject matter. She’d hung out for a while and then she’d gone home. She sat on the front porch in an old aluminum lawn chair, hoping Kathy would pass the house and see her there.
By 6:15 she was back at the Sullivans’, minding Daisy in the bathtub while Violet and the yapping Pomeranian went out the door. She made sure Daisy dried herself and got in her pj’s. They sat at the kitchen table and ate vanilla ice cream until 8:15. Daisy was easily confused about telling time, so Liza said it was 9:00 and marched her off to bed. Liza gave her the pill Violet’d left and watched as Daisy swallowed it with half a glass of milk. Twenty minutes later she was safely tucked in bed and limp with sleep.
Liza went out the back door and sat down in one of the two lawn chairs that overlooked a scruffy patch of grass. The wooden fence was less than six feet tall, but a thick tangle of honeysuckle spilled over the top, obscuring her view of the street. It was hot and her T-shirt was sticking to her back. She went inside again and sat in the living room, where she turned off the overhead light and let the table fan blow across her face.
At 9:00 she heard Ty scratching at the back screen. He stood outside the door, and the gaze he fixed on her was as hungry and as patient as a fox’s. She let him in and he kissed her, pressing himself against her. For once, she had the presence of mind to slip out of his grip.
“Ty, I’m not going to neck with you in here. What if Daisy wakes up or the Sullivans come back?”
“Come on. Foley’s at the park and I saw Violet barreling down the road in that fancy car of hers. Neither one of them are coming back for hours.”
“I don’t care. I’m not going to do it.”
“How about we go out to my pickup? It’s parked in the alley out back. I spread some blankets in the bed so we can lay there together and look at the stars.”
“Are you crazy? I can’t leave Daisy by herself.”
“I didn’t say we’d go anywhere. It’s just someplace private where we can talk without waking her.”
“I don’t think it’s right. I’m supposed to stay in the house.”
“Did Violet say that specifically?”
“No, but that’s what she pays me to do.”
“Half an hour. An hour. No one’s ever going to know.”
He’d wheedled and coaxed, making it all sound easy and insignificant. Finally, she’d given in and followed him through the yard to his pickup. Of course, the minute they were stretched out in the truck bed he’d started in on her. The night was warm, but Liza found herself shivering. Her fingers were so icy, she had to tuck her hands in her armpits. Ty was solicitous. He’d brought two paper cups and another bottle of Cold Duck. Liza drank more than her share, hoping to quiet her nerves. While they talked, the fireworks display started in Silas. They’d hear thumps and then sprays of green and blue sparkles would erupt, showers of red like umbrellas raining out of the sky. For thirty minutes they watched, transfixed. It was like a movie Liza had seen where this man and woman had been kissing and kissing and the curtains had blown open at the window and the sky had been alight.
After a while she lost track of time, didn’t even care how long they’d been there. She was feeling so close to him. He wrapped his arms around her and murmured against her neck. “How’re you doing, Lies? I gotta take good care of you so you won’t catch cold.” He slid his hand underneath her shirt.
“Oh, don’t.”
“I’m not doing anything.” He unbuttoned her shorts and moved his hand down along her belly.
“Maybe we should stop.”
“Stop what?”
“We can’t keep doing this.”
“Don’t you like it?”
“I do, but I don’t want to go too far, okay?”
“Just let me touch you once,” he said. He’d managed to get a finger between her legs.
She grabbed his hand and held it. “Wait. I can’t do this. I have to go in. What if they get home?”
“They won’t. They never come in before the Moon closes. You know that about them. They’re off drinking and having fun, and we’re right here close by. Violet won’t care. She likes me.”
“I know, but we have to be careful.”
“I will. I’ll be careful. Here, have one more little sip of wine. I’m just so crazy about you, Liza. Don’t you love me even a little bit? I know you love me.” He took the empty cup from her hand and whispered against her hair, kissing her neck and her breasts until she burned. “Be sweet. Please be sweet to me just this one time.”
She should have pulled away, but she felt suspended, passive, as though she had no control over what would happen next. On he went, telling her he loved her, that it was torture not having her when he loved her so much. By then he had her shorts off. “Let me put it in,” he whispered. “Just one time. Please.”
She’d said no at first, but he’d been so excited at the idea and so persistent, she’d relented. What was the harm when she wanted him, too. “You promise you’ll pull out in time?”
“Of course. I swear. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt yo
u. I love you. You know I do. Angel, I want you so much it’s driving me insane.”
She felt at the same time powerful and afraid, but he was so beautiful and fearless. No one had ever said such incredible things to her. He seemed so sweet and eager. She had her eyes closed, but she could hear the rustling of his clothes. She made a sound at the shock of his naked body against hers. He was smooth and muscular. His skin was hot and he smelled of soap. She couldn’t remember where the jar of Vaseline came from, but there it was. And he was pressing himself and putting her hand on him and moving against her and wanting her to open up to him and then she did. She knew he’d already gone too far, but he’d pushed in. Then he was moving and didn’t seem to hear her feeble protest. He moved and he was moving and then he made a sound like he was lifting something heavy. He groaned, out of breath, and then he slumped over her, relaxed. “Oh, Lies. Oh geez. That was fantastic. That was so beautiful.”
It hadn’t even been a minute. She shifted her hips and he slipped out of her, leaving her goopy and wet.
“What’s the matter? Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay. You said you’d pull out!”
“I’m sorry. I meant to, but I couldn’t help myself. Baby, it just felt so good. I went crazy for a minute and the next thing I knew, it just happened.”
“Shit. What time is it? I gotta go.”
“Not yet. It’s not hardly midnight. Don’t leave me. Here, feel this.” He took her hand and pressed it against him.
She’d stayed where she was, half-underneath him, warm only in the places where his body covered hers. The rest of her was cold, her limbs pinned to the blanket by the weight of him. “I have to go in. What if they come home and I’m not there?”
“You can tell ’em you came out for a breath of air.”
“Let go of me. Please,” she whispered, but he kissed her again, murmuring, “You’re great. You’re amazing. I love you.”
“I love you too,” she said. “Ty, I have to go in.” She twisted out of his grasp and groped along the truck bed until she found her underpants. She pulled them on and then searched for her shorts and T-shirt.
“Look, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, right?”
“Maybe.”
“All day. We’ll spend the whole day together.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Meet me out on Porter Road. I’ll borrow my uncle’s truck and we’ll go for a drive. Eight o’clock.”
She could tell her underpants were on wrong-side out. She lifted one hip so she could strip them off. “Damn it! Now I got stuff running down the inside of my leg. Give me a handkerchief or something so I can clean myself off.”
He handed her his T-shirt, which he’d wadded up and tossed aside. She jammed it between her legs and cleaned herself as well as she could. She eased into her underpants again and hooked herself into her bra. She pulled on her T-shirt and shorts and used her fingers to get the snarls out of her hair. Once dressed, she climbed over the tailgate.
Ty said, “Eight o’clock tomorrow morning. You’re not there, I’m knocking on your door and I don’t care who sees.”
She kissed him in haste, told him that she loved him, and then hurried toward the house and let herself in the back door. The screen whined softly. The kitchen light was off, but she could see the luminous hands on the wall clock. 1:15. Violet and Foley usually didn’t get home until after 2:00 so she was fine. Everything was okay. The same table lamp was burning in the darkened living room. The fan rotated at a steady pace, pushing hot air this way and that. Both bedrooms were dark. She paused outside Daisy’s room, listening to the child’s slow, deep, regular breathing. She was fine.
Liza crept into the bathroom. In the glow from the night-light, she pulled down her shorts and checked her underpants. The crotch was wet with semen, stained with blood. She had to talk to Violet. She knew she should have made him use a rubber, but he promised he’d pull out, and now what? Violet would know. Violet knew everything there was to know about sex. Liza returned to the living room, where she lay on the couch, hugging herself. What was done was done. He’d told her he loved her—he’d actually said that to her—and he was the one who brought up the subject of seeing her again, so it wasn’t like she was chasing him or anything like that. Still, she wished she hadn’t done it. She could feel her eyes burn as the tears spilled out. As soon as Violet came in, the two of them would talk and she’d be fine.
28
I put a call through to Sneaky Pete’s. I could hear the strains of the jukebox in the background and a steady hum of voices. This was Saturday night, but it was only 6:45 and the place wasn’t going to rock until well after 9:00. Tannie answered the phone.
“Hi, Tannie. This is Kinsey. You have a minute?”
“Sure, if you don’t mind the interruptions. I’m tending bar and the gal who’s scheduled to work called in sick an hour ago.”
“I’ll try to be quick. You heard about Violet?”
“I did. What happened to the poor woman? I know she was killed, but nobody’s said how.”
“I haven’t heard a word about the cause of death. I guess we’ll know more after the autopsy’s done.”
“Autopsy? Somebody told me she was just a bunch of bones wrapped up like a mummy so you couldn’t even see her face.”
“Well, that’s not quite true. As I understand it, she was wrapped in a length of fabric, but it was falling apart. That’s hardly mummylike,” I said.
“Did you get a look at her?”
“Not me, and Daisy didn’t either. Detective Nichols gave her the news, but he didn’t want anyone getting close to the car.”
“How’s she taking it?”
“She’s okay. I don’t think the reality has sunk in.”
“I thought about calling, but I didn’t have the nerve. Maybe tomorrow. So what’s up with you?”
“I’ve been putting together a timeline for that Fourth of July weekend, trying to figure out where everyone was. You went over to the park with your dad?”
“Didn’t we talk about this? I was supposed to go with my brother, but he went off with his friends so Pop ended up taking me himself.”
“Were you there the whole time?”
“I don’t remember for a fact, but I can’t think why not.”
“Here’s why I ask. I managed to track down the woman who lived next door to the Sullivans back then. Anna Ericksen. Do you remember her? She was five at the time.”
“Vaguely.”
“We just had a chat, and according to her recollection, she and her mother ran into you at the park. She says your dad asked if her mother could look after you because he had something to take care of, so you ended up spending the night at her house.”
“Nah, don’t think so. It doesn’t ring a bell. Are you sure she doesn’t have me confused with somebody else?”
“Do you remember bouncing on the bed? She says you bumped into her and she fell and broke her arm.”
Tannie let out a startled laugh. “That was her? Oh my god, I remember the little girl, but I’d forgotten her name. Was that the same Fourth of July? Shit, she had bone sticking through her skin. It was sickening.”
“You have any idea where your father went that night?”
“Probably the hospital to see Mom. He was there most nights. What’s this about?”
“I’m not sure. It’s really just a gap I was hoping to fill in.”
“I can ask the next time I talk to him and see what he says.”
“Why don’t you hold off and I can talk to him myself. I’m driving up again Monday, probably early afternoon.”
“You’re still working for Daisy? I thought you’d be done.”
“This is what you call mop-up. She paid me in advance and I owe her a day.”
After we hung up, I realized I should have downplayed the subject even more than I had. I didn’t want Jake to know I was pursuing the point. If Tannie mentioned it and he needed to cover his tracks, he’d have tim
e to fabricate an excuse. Maybe he had left Tannie in Mrs. Ericksen’s care so he could visit Mary Hairl. The only time we’d talked, he hadn’t said anything about that. In fact, he’d spoken in such detail about Foley’s behavior at the park that I’d assumed he’d been there. Not to brag, but I myself am really quite skilled at lying and I can tell you how it’s done. Like a magic trick, you distract from the sleight-of-hand by focusing attention on the irrelevant.
I took a moment to call Cheney Phillips and we chatted for a while. I asked about the conference and then filled him in on my discovery. He offered to meet me at Rosie’s so he could buy me a drink, but I was feeling reclusive and thought I better level with him. “Nothing personal, but all I want to do is sleep in my own bed and not talk to a soul. The past four days I haven’t had a minute to myself and it’s driving me nuts.”
“Got it. Sounds like you’re in the thick of things, which I can understand. Call when you come up for air, and we’ll have dinner.”
“Perfect.”
“Hey, Kinsey? You be careful with yourself. Whoever this guy is, he’s gotten away with murder now for thirty-four years. He’s not going to let you march in and blow it for him.”
“All I’m doing is a records search and after that, my job’s done. Trust me. I’m leaving any rough stuff to the sheriff ’s department. That’s their bailiwick.”
After we hung up, I sat and thought about what he’d said. I knew he was right. I’d already had my tires slashed and that was before the car was unearthed and the bodies had been found. I unlocked the cabinet where I’d been keeping my handguns. I owned three. My favorite, a little .32-caliber semiautomatic my aunt Gin had given me as a kid, had been vaporized in an explosion that was meant to kill me. The next gun I acquired was a .32-caliber Davis that I bought because I liked the looks, thus opening myself to scorn and derision from all the gun nuts who considered it inferior. In deference to them, I bought an H&K P7 and an H&K P13, both serious weapons. The P13 was really more gun than I could comfortably handle, so I put it back in the cabinet with the Davis. I took out the box of Winchester Silvertips, loaded the P7, and put it in my shoulder bag.
