Serial Separation

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Serial Separation Page 12

by Dick C. Waters


  She smiled like a cat. “How about a shower first?”

  “The water is still going to be cold.”

  “Scott, believe me, you won’t feel a thing . . . I said that wrong . . . you won’t feel the water.”

  “Why don’t you go? I’m going to make that call.”

  She stood, running her hands through her hair. “Are you sure? This could be our last time together. Suit yourself then.” She turned to go in the bathroom. “You still amaze me.”

  Shortly, I heard the water running.

  * * *

  I tried the phone and there was a dial tone. I called the operator and gave her my name for a collect call. I could hear the operator asking Mrs. Anderson if they would accept a collect call from a Scott Tucker.

  “Hello, Scott.”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas to you, Scott. I take it you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Just a minute; let me get Lisa.”

  Lisa picked up, “Hi, Scott.”

  “Merry Christmas, Lisa.”

  “Yeah, well it’s not anything like that.”

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t make it last night or today.”

  “Are you safe? You didn’t have an accident, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t. The roads were really bad, and we had to pull off.” I realized I said ‘we.’

  “Mike told me there was another detective with you. What’s his name?”

  I was too slow answering. “It’s not a he . . . it’s a she.”

  I could tell she was digesting that.

  “Interesting. Are you staying at a motel?”

  “No, not exactly—it’s a set of cabins.”

  “I hope you had separate cabins?”

  “Lisa, we shared the same cabin. We didn’t plan on staying anywhere, and we didn’t have enough money for two cabins.”

  “Very convenient. Tell me you slept in different beds then?”

  “Lisa, I’m not trying to hide anything from you.”

  “Scott, you were supposed to be here for dinner last night. It was Christmas Eve, it took me three hours to get to my parents’, but I made it. You weren’t even headed in this direction if you’re staying on Route One in Topsfield. It’s Christmas, and I’m just hearing from you now. How does that add up to you?”

  “You’re right; it looks bad, but we were lucky to make it safely anywhere yesterday.”

  “Scott, I’m sure you were lucky.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you. Mike called me, and we have to go in to the task force to go over some developments on the torso killings.”

  There was quiet on the line, and I was about to ask her if she was still there.

  “Scott, you can be with the task force until hell freezes over. And you can shack up with ‘Ms. Detective’ too, for all I care. You can forget going skiing over New Year’s weekend with me.”

  I could hear her crying and then a loud click.

  The door to the bathroom opened and Mercy came out dressed and trying to dry her hair. She looked more stunning than ever.

  “Problems?”

  “You betcha!”

  Chapter 39

  I tried not to show how upset I was. Mercedes gave me my space to deal with my upsetting phone call. Neither of us relished the thoughts of digging the car out of the parking lot, but it had to be done. The first trip out to the car rescued my boots and the fruit cake from the trunk for Christmas lunch.

  We made some progress the next trip out, clearing the car of almost a foot and a half of wet snow and ice. The top layer was a light powder, which the wind continued to blow about.

  I liked watching Mercy help with the car. She caught me looking instead of working, sending a spray of snow off the roof, catching me off guard. I retaliated and soon our work was replaced with rolling around in the snow. If anyone observed us, we must have looked like fools or more like kids thrilled by the season’s first snow storm.

  It took me a few attempts, but I finally pinned her down. Instead of breaking the hold, we just stared at each other. I wondered if she knew what I was thinking and wondered if she had the same thoughts.

  I let her up hesitantly, not knowing exactly what to expect, but she just dusted herself off.

  “Scotty, I’ll find a way to get even.”

  “I’m certain you will. Let’s see if this puppy will start.”

  I got in and fired up the Pontiac, and the engine sounded its displeasure with some clanking noises. I knew the windshield and wipers were going to be difficult, so I decided to just let the car warm up to defrost the windshield.

  I watched Mercedes walking back to the cabin, trying her best to make a path. I realized I liked our time together, but still had concerns about it.

  I left the car running and went into the cabin. Mercedes had cut some of the fruit cake and had it waiting on napkins from last night’s luxury meal. I stomped off the snow and removed my boots and jacket.

  “Mercy isn’t it nice of you to make us a Christmas dinner.”

  “I thought it was the least I could do, since we ate so well last night.”

  “Mercy, I would like to talk about last night?”

  “What about it? Are you having regrets?”

  “Some, I guess. I’m glad we spent the time together and . . . and, in a way, I’m sorry we’re leaving.”

  “Scotty, you’ve said some nice things since we met, but that is the nicest thing you have said.” She reached across the table and held my hand.

  Smiling, we took our first bites. She turned and looked at the fireplace, but I noticed her eyes tearing.

  * * *

  My thoughts were on her Christmas present to me, but the sound of a boom and an engine roar interrupted it. I rushed to the window not knowing what to expect, and it was a plow pulling the snow from behind our car.

  “It’s a snow plow getting the driveway plowed.”

  Mercedes just stared at me, her expression never changing.

  We finished our fruit cake and started to get ready for the cold, but she stopped me, placing her face right in front of mine.

  This time I could read her expression. This moment could be our last. We reached for each other and kissed a long passionate kiss. Then we hugged, looking into each other’s eyes, each of us saying what we couldn’t vocalize.

  We released each other slowly. However, I had enough heat to go without the jacket, but it would have been awkward carrying it.

  I held her hand, plowing through the semi-path we made, but it wasn’t just to keep her from falling.

  * * *

  The windshield was defrosted and the car was warm inside when we buckled in. Mercedes sat on the leather seats, which made her jump. I laughed at her reaction and looked at her bare legs.

  “Next time you’ll wear a whole skirt.”

  She said in a soft voice, “I hope there’s a next time.”

  I wanted to respond, but I’d said enough. My mind was pretty mixed up right now. She must have read my mind again.

  “Scott, please talk to me about Lisa.” You told me you’re having some problems.

  We had a long ride, and I told her about the last task force and what Jimmy Ballou had done to the camp counselors. It gave me a chance to explain how Lisa’s mother was connected, how I found Lisa, how close she had come to being killed by Jimmy, and how he slipped to his death.

  “Lisa has not dealt with the details of that ordeal, and her behavior when we are together shows how much she needs help.”

  “Thanks, Scotty, for sharing the details with me. I think I can appreciate what Lisa is struggling with. Scott, what about that dream you had? Why do you think you had that nightmare?”

  “I can’t get the images of the murdered men out of my head. I’ve had some similar dreams in the last week. They’re not all the same, but I find myself the victim in them. I’m sorry I exposed you to one of them.”

  “I’m glad you exposed me to your . .
. your dream.”

  I was amazed at how fast she could pick up the double meaning in things. “I was really embarrassed by that.”

  “Scotty, things happen that we have no control over, and that was one of them—fate, I guess. Can you tell me about your family?”

  “I’m an only child. My parents own a small farm in Maine. They surprised me by putting enough money aside for me to actually attend Harvard. They pushed me to study hard, but I never knew what their motivation was.”

  “When my studying paid off with high marks, they talked me into applying to Harvard. When I was accepted, I almost hid the acceptance letter, but they had seen the envelope. I told them the news. They explained what they had saved for my education. I couldn’t believe what they had done.”

  She nodded, almost expecting what I told her.

  “What about you, Mercy?”

  “We live in a respectable area of Winchester. My dad is in real estate, a self-made millionaire, I think, which is helping pay for my education. He owns many properties, which he leases or improves and sells for considerable profit.”

  “One office complex in a run-down area of Boston happened to be where the city dumped a ton of money to bring the area back to life. He made a real killing on that one complex.”

  She continued. “I think I mentioned that I manage one of those properties, but my sister, Melanie, handles many different properties for his company. She has a nice title, director of property development, but I’m the one that is receiving the education.”

  I added, “We certainly come from different backgrounds. We’re just country bumpkins compared to you city folk.”

  She looked more comfortable talking about herself. “When I was growing up, I loved to go camping with my parents and sailing with my grandfather and sister. Unfortunately, he died a few years ago . . . I really miss that time and him.”

  “Mercy, you sound sad when you talk about those times.”

  She didn’t immediately answer. “I missed out on a lot. I spent most of my time focused on my studies to make it into Harvard. My dad, along with my grandfather, wanted both of us to get that kind of education. I’m the only one that is having that benefit.”

  “I’m glad you’re going to Harvard—I don’t think I would have met you if you weren’t.”

  She reached over and put her hand on my shoulder.

  “Scotty, what we had these last two days . . . I never had the opportunity to experience growing up. I wish I could tell you what this time meant to me.” She was still touching me and leaning close. “Do you think we can see each other after today . . . on a date?”

  I couldn’t respond immediately to her question. I really liked being with her; it was different than being with Lisa. However, I knew what Lisa and I had had the previous year. We loved each other so much, and I knew her recent outbursts and behavior related to her ordeal.

  “Mercy, I wouldn’t trade what we experienced, but I really don’t know how to answer your question. I don’t fully understand what is happening.”

  * * *

  We had a long drive ahead of us. Neither of us slept much last night, and Mercedes had fallen asleep during the drive to the Cambridge office. It gave me some time to try to sort out my feelings—Mercedes and last night, the torso task force, my studies and what to do about Lisa.

  I was also having trouble staying awake. The drive was long, slow, and tricky. There wasn’t much traffic on the roads due to the storm and the holiday. We were getting close, and I was driving fast but was being watchful of the hazards around me.

  I don’t remember if I was half asleep or what, but the snowplow coming out of the side street either never stopped or I wasn’t paying attention. I slammed on my brakes, and we skidded, managing to miss him somehow. My heart was pounding, and I looked to see if Mercedes was awake, but she was still sleeping.

  Amazing as that was, I was now going to be wide awake for the balance of the trip. I noticed her purse had tipped over, and some of the contents were spread out on the seat between us. With my eyes alternating between watching the road and replacing the contents, I saw her wallet. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing—the corners of several $20 bills were exposed.

  Chapter 40

  I wanted to really like her. Maybe too much. I liked her so much I couldn’t see the truth through her deception. I guess I wanted her to like me too.

  It was clear Mercedes had deceived me so that we could share a cabin. I was surprised she had the nerve to do that. I wondered if I needed to fear anything else, if she was not being truthful.

  That made me angry—angry with her; angry with myself.

  The fantasy bubble burst. Should I wake her up and confront her? No, maybe that would just make it worse, I thought then. What was I afraid of? Would confronting her end our relationship? What relationship? Was I confused, or what?

  Was I ashamed we spent the night together? No. If we hadn’t, would I have regretted not being with her? Yes.

  I needed time to get a handle on all of this. I had to think. Mike had said he left a message with Colleen, but she never gave us that message. She was still there when I arrived, but she never mentioned his call.

  Could Mercedes have received his call and he assumed it was Colleen? If so, she took a real risk in not saying anything, because we could have had an accident, or worse.

  Whatever possessed her to do that? Could she have wanted to be with me that much to hide the truth?

  I watched her sleeping so innocently, but behind the facade she was a hellcat. I guess she thought the risk was worth it. If we had had an accident at least we would have been together. Maybe that would have been okay with her.

  That’s another thing—she could have driven, but asked to ride with me. I felt like I was just an actor in her play—no, a puppet, with her pulling all the strings. She had a plan and she was right on target.

  She also kept me from seeing Lisa. Had she told me of Mike’s call, I would have headed to Lisa’s parents’ and not Newburyport. Could I forgive her for that? After all it was Christmas and not being with Lisa upset her. So much so, she said she didn’t care what I did with the task force.

  I couldn’t forget this charade resulted in my being naked with a woman I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to be with. How could I ignore her baiting the hook with that short skirt?

  Her words about my dream echoed in my head: “Things happen we can’t control, and that was one of them . . . fate, I guess.” She had controlled everything, except my feelings. Did she have control of those? Was I going to confront her, or just keep it to myself? Was I still upset?

  Chapter 41

  It was difficult dealing with what I learned, and I’m not sure I’ve completely dealt with it yet. At one point, I felt like saying to hell with the task force.

  The sight of Mercedes sleeping reminded me again of the previous night and the next morning. I wondered if I said we were going back, would she smile and accept it . . . or what? My memories of that time were like eating a hot pepper.

  We were a few miles from the office when I woke Mercedes. I decided not to say anything about finding the money to see how this progressed. She had obviously planned the adventure and, from the looks of it, was satisfied with the results.

  “Mercy . . . Mercy, wake up, we’re almost at the office.”

  She looked around. “You made good time.”

  I felt like saying I gave you the time you planned.

  “Yeah, the trip turned out better than I expected.”

  “Scott, are you going to tell anyone we stayed together last night?”

  “Why? Are you concerned?”

  “Well, yes. I think it’s our business what we did . . . not anyone else’s on the task force. Besides, if they knew about us, they might question our working together. I suggest we keep it to ourselves. That’s not to say we need to lie, just not share some of the intimate details with anyone.”

  “Like when Mike called me at the cabin and I told
him you were with me. However, I didn’t tell him that you were with me all night. I didn’t hide that detail from Lisa.”

  “Like I said, no one needs to know the details—only that we had to stay overnight at the cabins.”

  “I think we’ll be busy enough when we get to the office. I don’t expect the attention will be on us. It might be on you with that short skirt,” I said smiling.

  “I’m glad you noticed, but you’re not staring anymore.”

  “It was hard not to.”

  “I know it was hard.” She smiled again, stroking the side of my face. “Do you want to stop the car and roll around in the snow again?”

  I know my flushed face answered her question.

  * * *

  When we arrived at the office, the walk was shoveled, and all the lights were on in the building. As we entered the office, we were greeted with an enticing smell of fresh brewed coffee. We quickly hung our coats and headed for the coffee.

  Mercedes looked great, considering she was without an arsenal of makeup. We looked at each other over our cups. She was the first to break the silence.

  “I know it’s awkward . . . but you made me feel like a woman . . . thanks, Scotty.”

  Before I could respond, I heard footsteps behind me.

  “Well, Merry Christmas. I’m glad you could make it. I’m going to talk to Colleen about not giving you the message—not to try to make Newburyport,” Mike said, reaching to fill his cup.

  “Merry Christmas to you too. The roads weren’t so bad coming back. I thought they would be, but there wasn’t much traffic coming into the city,” I replied, noticing Mercy was dealing with Mike’s comment.

  Mercedes held up her hand to get Mike’s attention. “Please don’t talk to Colleen about your call. I answered the phone and never said anything to Scott about it. Colleen had already left. I don’t know what I was thinking, but it wasn’t her fault.”

  Mike looked stunned and was slow to respond. “I’m glad you told me, young lady, but I wish you had told Scott about it.” He looked at me and then at Mercedes. “We are going to get an update from the Boston P.D. on what they’ve found for any witnesses to Palmer and Sullivan’s kidnapping. We would also like to get Mercedes’ impression, or profile, of who is doing these killings. We are about to meet in the conference room when you’re . . . done here.”

 

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