Chagrined, Alicia said, “We have to go to the neighbor’s house to pee till I can pay to get someone out here to fix it. Shit, I don’t get my next check till the fifteenth.”
“So let me get this straight. Jenkins was standing on your toilet, doing what?”
I tried to bump into Smitty to get him to shut up. It wasn’t our job to investigate her complaint. We could send some uniforms over later. Smitty ignored me. I could tell his curiosity was piqued, so I decided to shut up and let him go for it. I slipped my hand as casually as possible into my pocket and pushed the record button. The small tape recorder that I used instead of lugging around a notepad was about to pay off. Smitty would be buying me coffee for a month if he didn’t want this e-mailed to every detective he ever worked with.
“I guess he was trying to get out this here window,” Alicia said.
“Now why would he do that?” Smitty probed.
I knew why, but I wanted to see her try to wiggle out of answering the question. I had so few pleasures in my job, I had to take amusement where I could find it. Aw shit, she’s losing more of the sheet.
“Well, see, he was sneaking out the window with the shit that he stole from me.”
“Uh-huh.” Smitty adopted a kindly tone. “Popeye’s going to say that the toilet thing was an accident. We really can’t hold him for that unless he was trying to do it on purpose. And if you won’t tell us what he stole, we can’t arrest him for that either.”
“You want to know what he stole?” She was worked up now, her left breast exposed. I hoped she wouldn’t decide just to be done with the sheet and toss it aside. Now mind you, I’m not opposed to looking at naked young ladies, but I draw the line at crackheads.
“He stole my god-damn pipe.” She had a talent for dragging out her curse words; “god-damn” and “mo-th-er-fuck-er” just sound so much better with every syllable pronounced.
I giggled my ass off under the guise of a cough. Hell, I needed to go have a seat on one of the ripped chairs on the sagging front porch before I was forced to go ask to use the neighbors’ toilet. Smitty nudged me for help, but I was too busy staring at the floor, trying not to howl. You’re on your own, buddy, I thought.
How was I supposed to know that we would never investigate another cold case? That I would never play another practical joke on him. That nothing would be the same again.
*
I gave up trying to find a TV channel I could stand to watch. Riley had been outside with the mysterious Dani for nearly twenty minutes. What the hell were they talking about? I was pretty sure Riley wouldn’t tell her friend I was a fugitive, but I couldn’t help feeling nervous. I peered covertly out the double doors. They were on the bench and Riley was holding her “best friend” tightly.
I shouldn’t have felt hurt or betrayed, but I did. Riley and I had shared a kiss, that’s all. She was a nice woman who was willing to help me until I got my shit together, that’s all. I put my head in my hands and swallowed down my disappointment. I didn’t feel up to unpacking, so I climbed up on the ridiculously tall bed and leaned back against the pillows. You should see Dani climb into this thing. I should have known there was something more there. How could I? She’s never told me anything about herself.
“Why did Dani come out?” I asked. I’d been asleep for a couple of hours when the sound of a motorcycle revving woke me up, and a few minutes later Riley came back inside.
“She needed to talk to me.”
“I thought you two never spend time up here together.”
“We don’t. This place is so that we can be alone and think, not socialize.”
“Okay, so that’s my point. Why would she come up here knowing you’re here?”
A frown creased her forehead. I could tell she didn’t see where I was going with my questioning, which made two of us. “She came up here because she wanted to make sure I was okay. And for the record, this is her place and she can come here anytime she wants.”
Her emotionless voice reminded me of the tone she used when talking to strangers, if she bothered to speak to them at all. I felt a certain amount of regret at hearing it used with me. Riley threw a white bank envelope on the bed. She obviously wanted me to look inside, so I opened it. Crisp twenty and fifty dollar bills all faced in the same direction, all brand spanking new, and all with the huge presidential faces that were meant to make them counterfeit-proof. To me, the design only succeeded in making American money even more ugly than it already was.
“Shit, Riley, there has to be over five thousand dollars here.”
“Five thousand five hundred.” She slid a bill into her back pocket. “I came to take you shopping, but you were asleep.”
“So your friend just gives you an envelope full of cash and leaves?” I was angry, and it wasn’t over the money. It was because of the kiss, because of the fact that Riley Medeiros had kissed me and then as soon as her best friend came on the scene, it was as if it had never happened.
It occurred to me then that Riley might have kissed me because she thought I wanted her to. I flashed on myself a few years back, leaning in to reluctantly kiss women I had been seeing before bidding them good night. As their doors closed my hand would, of its own accord, go up and wipe my mouth, as if I had been given the cooties. It had only happened a few times. I had quickly forgotten those unwanted kisses, but now…The thought that Riley would do that to me hurt like hell. Suddenly, I just wanted her out of my face.
“So, you have your friends give you money all the time?” I asked her bitingly. I expected anger, maybe a fuck you or two, but not the look of pure rage that crossed her face.
“I have never taken one cent from Dani. Never!”
“Then why the hell would you start now?” I yelled back at her, hating myself for starting the fight, yet unable to stop myself from adding tinder to the burning flame.
Riley snatched her pouch from the bureau. “You want to know why I took her money?” Her voice was so deep now that I could hardly understand what she was saying. She stopped in front of the bed and emptied the contents of the pouch onto my lap. I looked down as her driver’s license, a student ID, and a social security card along with ten dollars, a few dimes, and a penny with a nasty-looking green patina landed in my lap. “I have ten fucking dollars, Foster!”
I jumped as she said the word “fucking.” My mouth was created in the gutter, but I had never heard Riley say so much as “damn” since I’d known her.
“That’s all I have to my name, and I bet it’s ten more dollars than you have.”
She was right, but I just glared at her, unwilling to give in and unwilling to admit my jealousy. That’s the problem when you get in an argument with someone and realize you are totally in the wrong and should probably stop right there and apologize, but instead you keep going because you don’t know how to say you’re sorry. What I really wanted to do was beg Riley to tell me why she was holding Dani like that so soon after kissing me, and with me only a few feet away. But what I said was, “Why in the fuck did you kiss me, anyway?”
The question was meant to hurt, but when I saw the pain in her eyes I felt ashamed of myself. It was quickly hidden, or should I say covered, by anger. The side of her mouth quivered and a look of disgust crossed her face.
“Why did you want me to?” she bit out before snatching her pouch and its contents from my lap and stalking off toward the deck.
She didn’t bother to close the double doors, but went to the edge of the deck and gripped the rail, staring out at the ocean. A gust of wind blew past her, filling her shirt with brisk air. She wrapped an arm around herself, a shield from the cold. I wanted to comfort her and explain that it was all my fault because I was jealous. But in order to do that, I would have to own up to the growing feelings I had for her. I wasn’t ready for that. Why had I wanted her to kiss me?
I clawed my fingers through my short, unfamiliar hair. I was a mess, and I was taking it out on Riley. I wanted something that I had never had. For
me, a faithful lover was like a myth, something lesbians wished for and claimed they had, but never really did. I had seen Stacy and her girlfriend as they practically cooed at each other in front of people; and then as soon as she was alone, Stacy would make a pass at someone else. I’d known women who acted as if they were joined at the hip with their partners because they were too afraid to take a step alone. Swearing fidelity, when every last one of them secretly wanted more than they were ever willing to share with the other. I’d never wanted that. I would have been happy alone…until her. I really wanted to talk to her, but I was afraid I would do something stupid, like tell her the truth.
I got down off the bed and paced around the room, both angry and ashamed. Since when had I become so callous? Testy maybe, but not outright cruel. I had really hurt Riley. Maybe hurt her pride. And I, of all people, knew how awful that felt.
Taking a deep breath, I marched out onto the deck ready to humble myself. I was just in time to hear her truck wheels spin in the rough gravel driveway as she left me to enjoy my latest screwup alone. I knew she’d be back. The envelope full of cash was still on the bed and she hadn’t come into the room to get her stuff. I plopped down on the edge of the deck and gazed out at the Pacific Ocean. It really was a beautiful place. I didn’t even remember if I’d thanked her properly for bringing me here. The dull ache that had been building up in my chest was now too strong for me to deny. Why had I said those things to her? Why couldn’t I just shut the fuck up and be happy that Dani was gone and I was still here? Why had she kissed me? Was it because she felt something for me, or was it because she thought I wanted her to?
Folding my arms in front of my chest, I leaned forward as I had as a child when I didn’t want to go inside to get a coat. Hell, I didn’t have a coat. Like Riley said, I didn’t have shit and she didn’t have much more. If the situation were reversed, I would have done what I had to do to take care of Riley…or would I? Would I have helped a stranger the way she had helped me? I finally understood about the money she’d accepted from Dani. Of course she would not have taken money if it were just her; Stacy said Riley had had two jobs and had put herself through school. But she had me, she was trying to take care of me. Her selflessness made me hurt more. I had never been one to go out of my way. I wouldn’t borrow a dime for anyone except myself. I was more the norm; Riley seemed to live by a different code.
“God damn it, Riley. Why can’t you be like everybody else?” I said out loud.
My question was carried away by the increasingly gusty winds. I supposed I should go inside, but the chill air seemed to be clearing the past few weeks’ fog from my mind. I sat for a while longer, until my teeth started chattering and I heard the Cruiser crunch onto the gravel next to the cabin once more. I refrained from rushing to her, telling myself to give her some space. I heard her step up on the deck, heard the crinkle of a paper bag, and felt her gaze. She sat down next to me, and neither of us spoke as the wind billowed around us like ghosts playing with our hair.
Her voice sounded gruff. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight anymore,” she said, and I felt something tap me on my enfolded hands. I looked down at the red and yellow package of a dual Slim Jim. “It’s for you,” she said.
I thought it was the sweetest thing she could have ever done, and I felt like a big wussy. I didn’t even think Riley knew what a Slim Jim was. “You don’t need to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was all my fault.”
She didn’t respond, so, like a child given a lollipop so she would stop crying, I began the difficult task of opening the Slim Jim with my teeth. I wasn’t really hungry, but tearing at it gave me something to do while I waited for her to speak. Or maybe she was waiting for me. I bit into the spicy treat and chewed vigorously.
“Why did you want me to kiss you?” she asked.
“Huh?” The “huh” was reaction more than anything. I had heard what she said.
“Down at the beach, you wanted me to kiss you. Why?”
“I don’t know. It seemed like it was the right thing to do at the time,” I said lamely. Seeing the look of disappointment that she wasn’t successful in hiding, I recanted. “I just wanted you to kiss me. I didn’t really think about it much. It’s just…how I felt.”
“Did you like the kiss at the club?” she asked.
I frowned. Why did she sound so damn unsure? Hell, if we hadn’t had an audience, I would have probably been on my knees with my ass in the air, like a cat in heat. “I loved the kiss at the club.” Suddenly I was the one feeling insecure. “Did you?”
“Yes, very much.”
I swallowed the piece of meat I had been holding in my jaw. It occurred to me that I was making myself very unkissable by chomping on the Slim Jim. In fact, I hoped for a change in wind direction because I was sure Riley was being treated to my halitosis at that very moment. “Good, I did, too.”
If she was feeling anything like I was, she was wishing for a piece of lined paper with a few boxes that said: I like you. Do you like me? Check “yes” or “no.”
She moved a little closer. “I thought you weren’t interested in cuddling women with hard asses.”
I choked on my beef jerky. “Where did you hear that?”
“You said it at Secrets one night, Foster.”
“I did not.” Under her disbelieving stare, I was forced to explain. “I did, but that’s not what I meant. I can’t believe Stacy told you.”
“She didn’t. I saw you say it.”
“You saw?” I had a flashback of talking to Stacy while I watched Riley in the mirror. I remembered Riley’s special skill and groaned. “You read my lips?”
She nodded and stared broodingly out to sea for a moment before facing me.
As the ocean air blew past us, moaning loudly as it passed through the rocky area, her eyes met mine frantically. Her eyes locked on my lips, and I opened my mouth to apologize when questions that should have occurred to me before hit me with the force of a sledgehammer.
Riley’s deep uninflected voice, her habit of staring at my lips, her ability to read lips, and even her hero worship of Lou Ferrigno. I had seen him on TV once, talking about his bodybuilding and his hearing impairment. Although Riley’s speech pattern was not as distinctive as his, there was definitely something there. I loved her voice. I’d had no reason to wonder at its origins.
A sob left my throat before I could stop it, and I struggled to calm myself down. Riley started to shake her head, as if denying the question that I had yet to ask. She reached out, and I grabbed both of her biceps to stop her. The muscles beneath my hands tensed as if she was preparing for a blow.
“Foster, calm down. Please, don’t cry,” I heard her say, as if from far off, but I shook my head.
I reached up and grabbed her face in my hands. I wanted to know, and I wasn’t going to let her get away without telling me. She tried to pull away from me, but I held her face firmly as I repeated her name. The wind had teased her hair from its neat braid, and she looked scared and rumpled. The tears were running unchecked down my cheeks. Finally, I asked, “Riley…can you hear me?”
She nodded, but I knew there was more to it than she was telling me. Had she been hiding this from me? She had no reason to. I cared about her. I would never…“Are you deaf or something?” I heard it as if I was saying it aloud again. The pain in her eyes was almost tangible, and I had caused it. I silently begged her for forgiveness, even though I would never forgive myself.
Her body started to shake, and I wrapped her in my arms as best I could as she cried soundlessly. They would hit me until I made a sound. I never did.
I cried harder, my face buried in her T-shirt. Unlike her, I cried with great wrenching sobs. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t know,” I whispered, because my throat was too tight to speak any louder; and then I cried harder, because I didn’t know if she could hear me.
Chapter Fourteen
I am not a touchy person, but at that moment, I felt the need to be as close t
o her as I could possibly get. I clung to her as I have never clung to anyone in my life, and she seemed to need that as well. Occasionally, one of us would tear up and the other would wipe the drops away.
Finally, with a sigh that rocked her whole body, Riley said, “I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed, Foster. I’m not. I’m hard of hearing. I’ve always been this way.”
“I just wish I had known.”
“Why? Would it have changed anything?”
“No.” I looked at her steadily. “Riley, when I was talking to Stacy, I was referring to myself as a hardass, not to you. I let her believe that I meant you because I didn’t want her hitting on me. I was too tired to deal with her that night.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my hearing. There just never seemed to be a good time to bring it up.”
I put my hand back on her thigh. “May I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why don’t you wear a hearing aid?” I didn’t want her to think I was prying.
“I used to, but,” she put her hand up to her left ear and smiled as if to reassure me, “there’s nothing here. I have one hundred percent hearing loss in this ear. I had to wear the aid in my right. It amplified sound, but I didn’t like it. I couldn’t tell where sounds were coming from, and it made me feel disoriented. I stopped wearing it a few years back, and I feel I do a lot better without it.”
“You talk on the phone. How does that work?”
“The phone is easy. I can press it against my right ear or turn up the volume.” She shrugged instead of saying no problem. “It’s when there is a lot of background noise and you don’t look right at me that I have problems.”
“Has it—always been this way for you?”
“Pretty much. I lost my hearing when I was two years old. My parents didn’t realize until it was too late. It’s hard to tell with an infant. Now they know more about these things, but back then it was fairly common not to take a child to the doctor for a simple fever. I got better and it was a while before anyone realized I had permanent damage to my hearing.”
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