by Nat Burns
With concerted effort, Marya pushed Dorry from her mind. When Cybil returned with the scotch, she talked her into joining her.
“So why does your name seem familiar to me, Marya?” Cybil asked, her hands fiddling with a bar towel.
“I write for the Schuyler Times. That might be where you’ve seen it.” Marya took a long pull off the tumbler of scotch and was delighted when the heat-generating liquid relaxed her clenched stomach.
“Oh yeah! That article you did last week on the woman with all those dogs…I bet that was fun. What was it like interviewing her?”
Marya chuckled and proceeded to tell Cybil about the three hours she had spent getting up close and personal with the woman’s family of fourteen dogs. The woman had expected her to remember their names after the interview was over.
Sitting with Cybil, relaxing in what seemed like the first time in months, felt amazingly good. Felt a lot, in fact, like the days, back before Kim, when Marya would have worked all night on Miss Cybil and then taken her home with her to have someone to warm her body and her bed. Old habits die hard, she discovered. Before long, she was flirting shamelessly with her. What was her goal? Getting into Cybil’s bed? The idea was pleasant enough, though she knew deep down that it would be meaningless. The two of them had little in common. She didn’t see them building a relationship. Not like what she and Dorry were building. Had been building.
Dorry wasn’t here, though. And Cybil was. And she was warm and definitely willing. She had twice offered Marya a clear view of some very nice cleavage as she had leaned over and refreshed her drink, had caressed Marya’s arm each time she took the glass.
They talked about Cybil’s life. She was fresh out of a two-year relationship. Her partner, a closeted big-time Myrtle Beach lawyer, had decided that being with a man would be a better step on her way up the ladder to a political career. She had wanted to keep Cybil on the side, but Cybil had wanted none of that.
“I mean, what kind of woman does that? Hides the truth that way? I guess what they say about lawyers is true,” she said.
“People never fail to amaze me,” Marya answered.
“So, tell me about your ex,” Cybil prompted. “What kind of business does she have?”
Marya looked at Cybil’s expectant face and knew she couldn’t talk about Dorry here. Not now. Not ever, probably. Maybe something else would work.
She reached across the small table and took Cybil’s hand in hers. Pulling her to her feet, she led her toward the side of the bar and into the hallway outside the bathrooms. She saw a smile settle on Cybil’s full lips as she realized where they were going. She pulled her into the surprisingly spacious ladies’ room after her and into her arms.
“Sorry for the accommodations, my lady, but I find I am overcome with my immediate need for you.” Marya pulled Cybil to her and kissed her long and hard, pushing her tongue into Cybil’s mouth with passionate force. Cybil lurched against Marya and moaned, the sound a stimulus of incendiary proportions. Marya snaked a hand under Cybil’s shirt, relishing the softness of her bare waist and hips. Spreading her other hand wide, she cupped Cybil’s bottom through her nylon skirt, pressing their pelvises together.
Cybil brought up her arms and caressed Marya’s neck as they kissed. Marya moved forward, shifting their bodies so that Cybil was against the wall, then brought her hands around to cup Cybil’s small breasts in her palms.
Moaning again, Cybil lifted Marya’s shirt from her trousers. Marya shifted to accommodate her…and the excruciating pain that followed almost brought her to her knees. For a brief moment she wondered if she were having a heart attack. Then she remembered her ribs. And Dorry. Reality came slamming back. It packed a powerful punch. She hissed in pain and backed away from Cybil, panting. “Oh my God, oh my God,” she muttered. “What the fuck am I doing?”
“Marya? Are you okay?” Cybil asked, coming closer. Marya grasped both of Cybil’s hands in hers.
“Look, don’t hate me, Cybil. God knows you are hot and, oh yeah, I want you…but…but I gotta make things right with her, with Dorry. I just can’t…please understand.”
Cybil bit her bottom lip and nodded, eyes wide. “Sure, hon, I understand.” She shrugged. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”
Marya nodded and, letting go of Cybil, wrapped one arm protectively about her torso. Her other hand reached out and brushed Cybil’s cheek gently. “I am sorry.”
Cybil smiled. “Get on with you. Do what you have to do. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll still be here and we’ll talk.”
Marya nodded and limped painfully out of the bathroom and out of the Rainbow Spheres lounge.
***
The Fetch It Diner was just about empty by the time she got there. It was after the dinner rush and a young high school boy was busily busing the tables, probably so he could go home and play video games. Lisa greeted Marya from her usual perch behind the counter. Marya slid onto a low stool and asked for coffee. Lisa smiled and, placing a cup in front of her, filled it to the brim.
Marya wasn’t sure what her next step needed to be, but she thought sobering up in the diner might be a good first step. She had toyed with the idea of going to her parents’ house for the night but vetoed the idea quickly. She smelled more than a little like scotch and was broken all to hell. The fewer questions she had to answer for them, the better. She keenly remembered her mother’s panicked call after Denton’s body had been found.
The old codger sidled up to the counter and, with a grunt, settled onto the stool next to her. Ah, the trucker and somewhat annoying bearer of local lore. It was good to see him again. Leaning forward, she blew on her coffee and took a cautious sip.
“Well, look who’s here,” he said as he perused the menu.
“And a big hello to you. How was Maine?” She studied him. He looked the same. Only the clothing had changed. Today he was wearing faded blue jeans and a worn, untucked white button-down shirt.
“Cold. I pert near froze my ass off.”
Marya laughed with difficulty, moaning a little as her ribs grated together.
“What the hell happened to you?” he asked, eyeing her with a worried glance.
“Man, you wouldn’t believe it,” she said, shaking her head.
“You havin’ the usual, Kent?” Lisa asked. She waited expectantly on the other side of the counter.
“Yeah, Lisa, sounds good,” he replied.
Lisa pulled out a cup and placed it in front of Kent. She filled it with coffee and pushed the sugar dispenser toward him, then moved off toward the kitchen to put in his order.
Kent poured a steady stream of sugar into his cup and spoke without looking at Marya. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s have it.”
Marya hesitated only a second. She told him about getting the job at the paper. About the Dorry interview prank and then about the difficulty in getting the cottage. He shook his head now and again but didn’t comment.
She then told him about Denton and about how he’d been murdered and how she and Dorry might be facing charges because of their taekwondo expertise. She wrapped up by telling him about Barnes, how he had picked a fight with her earlier that morning, breaking her ribs. And that she was debating whether or not to report him.
Kent gave a low whistle as Lisa placed his steaming plate of burger, fries and eggs in front of him.
“Sounds like he’s your bad guy,” he said. “You need to report that sucker.”
“He sounds crazy as a June bug,” Lisa said. “I think you need to report him too. You don’t want to go to jail for something that maniac did. Let the police sort it out.”
“Yeah, but will they believe me?” Marya asked.
“Seems to me you’re wearing proof right there under that shirt,” Lisa said as she slid a slice of apple pie in front of Marya.
Marya looked at the pie, then at Lisa. “What’s this?”
“On the house,” she said, swabbing the counter with a cloth. “Eat. You’re skinny.”
Marya laughed and looked at Kent.
He shrugged, chewing. “Better eat it,” he said. “You don’t want to mess with Lisa. You think those busted ribs hurt, but they ain’t nothing compared to how she’ll mess you up.”
Lisa laughed and Marya and Kent joined in.
After a few moments of silent chewing, Kent spoke. “You know what you need to do, don’t you?”
“What’s that?” Marya responded.
“Trap the son of a bitch. Set up a sting and catch him in the act, so to speak.”
Marya paused, a forkful of pie halfway to her mouth. “Oh my God, that is a great idea. He’s got this big old jones for Dorry. I could use her as bait, get the police to wire her and then get him to admit to murdering Denton.”
Lisa and Kent smiled at one another, satisfied. “See, problem solved,” Kent said.
“I’d hug you if my ribs didn’t hurt so badly,” Marya responded.
Kent looked startled. “Oh, there’s no need for all that,” he said.
“You should go for it, Kent. She’s skinny, but she’s kinda cute,” Lisa added as she moved to take the extra setups the busboy was handing her.
Marya regarded Kent as she chewed pie. “I dunno, you’re not exactly my type,” she said.
He laughed, the sound a low gurgle. “I know, I know. You like them Martians over there on Begaman Cove,” he said quietly, grinning into his plate.
Marya laughed so hard she was afraid she might spew pie all over her new friend. She held her taped ribs tightly as laughter and tears poured forth in equal measure.
“Oh, lord, what did you do now, Kent,” Lisa asked hands on her hips.
“Honey, hon…you need to calm down now,” she told Marya. “No sense in busting them ribs up more than they are already.”
“I’m okay,” Marya gasped. “I gotta go tell the Martian about setting a trap to catch a bad guy.”
She slid from the stool. “So, Kent, where you heading next?” she asked.
He sipped his coffee and sighed contentedly. “I’m home for the next week,” he announced grandly. “First vacation I’ve had in eighteen months. Gonna be a good one too. Me and my forty-eight-inch flat screen.”
Marya laughed and patted his shoulder.
“Lisa, thanks for the pie. It was delicious. And I’m gonna need it, I’m thinking. I know from experience, those Martians can be hard to deal with. They’re hot-tempered, you know.”
Kent snorted and Marya stepped out into the dusk.
Chapter Thirty-Three
All the windows at Dorry’s house were dark. Marya checked her watch. Surely it was too early for Dorry to be in bed. Marya held her ribs and sighed. Well, at least she was there, judging from the fact that her truck was parked in the drive.
She knocked on the door but got no answer, so she tried the knob. Unlocked. She stepped inside, calling Dorry’s name. She wasn’t there, it seemed. Neither were Isabel’s photos, Marya noted with a smile. She couldn’t say she missed them. She hoped Dorry didn’t either.
Five minutes later she was back in the living room and completely perplexed. She’d searched the entire house and Dorry was nowhere to be found. Was she at the cottage maybe? Waiting for Marya to get home so they could fight some more? She left the house, pulling the front door closed behind her.
Marya decided to go home and deal with Dorry as best she could or with her aching ribs, whichever came first. She was opening the door to the Trooper and bracing herself for the increasingly painful climb into it, when she heard a faint cry. She strained her ears and heard it again, or thought she did, even over the sound of the ocean surf. It seemed to be coming from behind the house.
Gritting her teeth, Marya made her way over the uneven path that led back there. Sudden fear invaded her heart. What if someone had hurt Dorry…like Denton had been hurt. She slammed her terrified eyes shut, afraid what she might see in the adjoining woods.
The sound came again, from below her. She whirled toward the ocean. There! Beneath the back deck, in the enclosed swimming pool, was that movement that she was seeing? She drew closer, squinted her eyes to see. It was Dorry! And she was in trouble.
Moving as fast as her injured body allowed, Marya sped to the pool, shedding her wallet, phone and shoes as she went. She waded into the water, which deepened as she walked toward Dorry and was soon over her head. Treading water was agony. As quickly as she could, she dog-paddled to the ocean side of the pool and clung to its edge. Dorry was barely visible. Only the top of her silvered hair showed above the water…until the waves retreated back to the sea and the water receded a bit. Her face appeared then, just long enough for her to suck in a breath or two before the waves covered her again. Her eyes were frantic. Clearly, she’d become trapped somehow and couldn’t free herself.
“Dorry? Dorry, what’s holding you down?” Marya called when Dorry’s face appeared the next time.
Dorry’s lips were blue, evident even in the dimness beneath the deck, and her teeth chattered as she gasped out one word. “Rock.”
Taking a deep breath, ignoring the pain that coursed through her torso, Marya dove below the surface. The salty seawater was murky and stung her eyes, but the crimson of Dorry’s swimsuit served as a beacon that guided her downward. She saw with dismay that one of the huge boulders that defined the swimming area had rolled down on Dorry’s leg, pinning her to the bottom of the rock wall.
Marya resurfaced and pulled close to Dorry. She waited for the waves to recede, then spoke loudly and clearly. “Help me roll the rock off. Now!”
She took another deep breath and dove down, pulling on Dorry’s hands to help her go under. Their eyes met underwater for a brief moment, then together they struggled to shift the heavy boulder. Dorry was the first to let go, needing air. Marya surfaced alongside her.
“We’ll get it, Dorry,” she gasped, her hands cradling Dorry’s wet, drawn face. “One more time, love, we can do this,” she said, breaking off as a wave slapped at them. When it receded, Dorry nodded grimly and took a deep breath.
Marya dove down again, pulling Dorry with her. Again they struggled and this time, in a cloud of debris, the boulder rolled away, almost falling onto Marya’s feet. She moved aside just in time. Alarmingly, the shift also released a frightening torrent of blood from Dorry’s leg. Surfacing, Marya grabbed her and pulled her over to the shallows. Shit! Not only was her leg broken, bone was protruding from the skin. She pressed Dorry’s hands to the wound, applying pressure to slow the bleeding.
“Christ! Hold on,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
Wearily, painfully, Marya pulled herself out of the pool and crawled along the grassy dunes behind the pool until her hands grasped her cell phone. She pressed the emergency button and told the dispatcher to send an ambulance right away, that Dorry was wounded and bleeding. Assured that help was coming, she hung up and slowly stood, bracing herself for the trip back to Dorry, who was intently watching, waiting to hear help was on the way. She waved and tried to smile. A sudden, tickling cough shook her and a gush of fluid spewed from her mouth and ran down her chin. She lifted her hands to catch it. They came back filled with bright red blood.
“What?” she gasped. She heard a strange crackling gurgle, then realized that she couldn’t take in any air at all. Her eyes flew back to Dorry. She mouthed the words “I love you,” hoping Dorry would see and understand. She took a step toward her, then another. And then her world went dark.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The sounds penetrated first. Marya heard muffled conversation, odd beeping noises and what sounded like air hissing. She wanted very badly to speak, but her tongue was thick, like it was stuck to the roof of her mouth. She cracked her eyes open and saw pale daylight and a white ceiling.
“She’s awake. Oh, thank goodness. Marya? Honey?”
Her mother’s face materialized above her and then wobbled out of focus. She blinked her eyes and her mother’s face stabilized.
“Richard? Is she okay?” He
r mother watched her with concern.
“I’m sure she is, honey. These doctors know what they’re doing.”
Marya’s father’s face floated into her range of vision, and she blinked again, stabilizing him as well.
“Don’t trouble yourself, pumpkin,” her father said in a low, calm voice. “You’re going to be fine. You had broken ribs that punctured and collapsed your lung.” He brushed her hair back from her forehead.
“The EMT drew off air, though, and your lung re-inflated so you could breathe. The doctors did some tests after you got here and they say you’re going to be fine,” her mother added.
Marya had to smile. Her parents were actually sort of cute.
“Aww, she’s smiling, Richard. That must mean she’s feeling better.” Her mother gazed at her lovingly, unshed tears brightening her eyes. Marya reached up a hand and clasped her mother’s hand.
The next time Marya awakened she heard faint singing…a nursery rhyme in a voice she didn’t recognize.
An unfamiliar male voice spoke. “I think she’s awake, honey. Her eyes opened.”
Marya turned her head haltingly toward the singing and found Carol sitting in the chair next to her bed. “Hey, girl,” Carol said. “How are you feeling?”
Marya reached up and pulled the oxygen mask from her mouth. She cleared her throat, but even so, her voice was raspy and weak. “Good, good. What’s that you have there?”
Carol smiled from ear to ear. She rose and brought her pink-blanketed bundle close to the bed. “I’d like you to meet Miss Alicia Blue Say. Alicia, Marya, Marya, Alicia.”
Marya watched the rosy-skinned newborn squirm right out of her knitted cap and smiled, tears welling in her eyes. She reached and touched one of the tiny fingers and it wrapped around her finger with unexpected intensity. “Cute and strong,” she whispered.
“We’re just glad she’s finally here,” Buddy said, moving to stand behind his family. “And healthy.”
“We’re getting ready to head home, but we wanted to make sure you’re okay. I expect a full report as soon as you recover, missy. I leave you guys alone for a few days and you go out and get all busted up. You know that’s just wrong,” she said.
