Writing on the Wall

by Jenna Rae

  As soon as Del was within twenty feet of the hotel room, Lola opened the door and stared at her. “Well?”

  “Well, what?” Del tried to remember her lie. “Oh. Uh, it didn’t pan out. Lots of leads turn to crap like that. Sorry. Gotta clean up.”

  She headed straight for the shower. She felt like Lola knew what she’d been doing. She felt guilty. She felt like an intruder and a pervert. How would I feel if someone came into my house, my bedroom, rooted around in my underwear? The warmish water splashed weakly over her face, and she closed her eyes, picturing her own cotton boxers rubbing against Lola’s sexy silkies. Without warning, that image changed, and she saw Orrin Beckett grabbing at Lola’s soft body, bruising her pale skin, scaring her. She grimaced and shook her head. She tried to erase that picture from her mind and couldn’t.

  What had their life together been like? Was it always bad, or did it start out good? Or was it good all the way through? She kept assuming that Beckett was abusive and that Lola was a victim, but she didn’t have a lick of proof that this was true. For all she knew, Lola was a lying, manipulative criminal who’d conspired with Beckett and his partner to steal and launder millions. And now she was playing a game to find out how much Del knew. Lola had been in the laundry room just before the pipe bomb went off. She could have signaled a co-conspirator. Hell, she could have set the bomb herself. Rigged the window to blow in. It wouldn’t be that hard to do.

  She reviewed every time she’d seen Lola. Every conversation, every look that passed between them, every moment. Nothing pinged as a lie. Except her evasiveness about Beckett’s temper, and that was standard behavior for a victim.

  She cut short her shower and dressed quickly. Her dirty clothes were on the floor, and she snagged Lola’s panties out of the pocket where she’d stowed them. Almost forgot those! She stuffed them in the pocket of her sweats and smoothed the outside of the pocket. She was shaky. Would this crazy day never end?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Lola was ready to climb out of her skin. First Del had been gone for hours, then she’d come back and ignored her, and now she was still distracted, brushing her teeth. What was going on? Then Del’s cell buzzed, and she dropped her toothbrush in the sink, grabbed the phone, and headed outside. Was it about The Creep? Or was it a personal thing? Was she involved with someone, and that someone was getting tired of sleeping alone?

  Del was attractive. Rachel and, Lola would bet, plenty of other women, found her irresistible. Maybe one of them had caught Del’s eye. Maybe she wished she’d never gotten herself roped into babysitting detail. Maybe she was out there, right now, laughing about poor, pathetic Lola pining away in a hotel room while Del was wishing she were with a hot, young blonde.

  Fine! Whatever! I don’t want to be here, either. I just want this all to be over with. I want my kitties back. I want to feel safe again. I want to go home! The truth of this, that her new house had finally begun to feel like a real home, made the reality of being chased from it even more painful. She knew she was being overly emotional, but she felt off balance and unsettled and uncertain of how to change those feelings.

  Del finally came back in, her expression still distracted. She sat on the bed.

  “Lola, I need to talk to you.”

  Her tone made Lola cautious. Suddenly, her worries about Del liking some other woman seemed selfish and silly. Maybe something bad had happened. Maybe Del was scared or upset. She sat next to Del, trying to hide her disappointment when Del moved to the other bed and sat facing Lola.

  “So, I’m really sorry to tell you this, but somebody broke into your house.” Del kept her voice neutral and watched Lola’s reaction closely.

  Her shock seemed genuine. She hugged herself and searched Del’s face with wide, worried eyes. That was real fear and a real sense of violation. Del was sure of it. You were sure of Janet, too, she reminded herself. She pulled the wool over your eyes for months. Are you really so positive that Lola isn’t doing the same thing? She couldn’t keep vacillating about Lola’s trustworthiness like this. It was making her stomach hurt.

  “Why? Did he write on the wall again?”

  Del shook her head. “No. He kinda tore the place apart. We’re thinking he was looking for something.”

  She was on high alert, though she worked hard to hide it. She assessed Lola’s breathing, her eye movements and pupil dilation, her mouth, her hands, everything. She felt like a human polygraph machine, trying to read the subject. Lola read as true, but could Del really trust her own perception? As Phan had pointed out, she wasn’t objective.

  “Like what?”

  Del hesitated. She didn’t want to do this. “Listen, I’m gonna be very direct with you, okay?”

  She watched Lola nod, noting her lack of wariness.

  “Okay.”

  “Most of the time, if somebody’s in trouble, it’s for a reason. You know? Like drugs or infidelity or money or something.” She waited, but Lola just looked at her like she was waiting for more. Then Del saw comprehension darken her eyes.

  “You think I must have done something wrong? That this is all my fault?” Her eyes grew huge, and she sucked in a deep breath. Did Del really think that? Was this her fault? Had she done something to cause The Creep to come after her? She rose and walked over to the window, though the curtains were closed. She wasn’t sure how she felt, what she thought. When she heard herself speaking, she was surprised by her own words.

  “This one time, I had some trouble at a foster home.” She felt so cold! Her voice shook. “And then I went to another one, and I had some trouble there.” She felt far, far away, as though her cold body and her quiet voice were separate from her real self. Del seemed a million miles away. Everything did. “The social worker was really mad. She said I caused too much trouble. She said there were too many kids like me. We always end up having trouble wherever we go. There’s no helping us, because we always make the wrong choices and end up being in trouble. That we like being victims or maybe we’re programmed that way. That we would always be victims. That we were a waste of time.”

  The defeat in Lola’s voice, the faraway look in her eyes, the way she seemed to be floating around inside her head gave Del a sick feeling.

  “That’s not what I’m saying.”

  “Isn’t it?” Lola seemed to zoom back into focus. She looked directly at Del.

  “No.”

  “You’re saying that most people only end up involved with bad people because they did something wrong. Because they’re bad.” Her sudden bark of bitter laughter startled Del, who stood up.

  “That’s not—I swear, that isn’t what I’m saying, Lola.”

  “You wanna know what I’ve done wrong?” Hysteria edged Lola’s voice up to an ugly screech. Then it broke to a barely audible whisper. “Everything. I’ve done absolutely everything wrong.” She sank onto the bed, her face a blank.

  “Tell me,” Del whispered.

  She could barely hear Lola’s muffled voice. “I let myself trust Dr. Beckett and lean on him, and then I couldn’t get away. And it’s my own fault. That social worker was right—people like me always end up circling back around to the bad end of things.”

  “Tell me what the bad guy wants. Tell me what he’s looking for. Once you tell me, you’ll feel better. I promise.”

  Lola pulled away and looked at her. “You think I’m some kind of criminal? You think I’m a—a drug mule or a gambler or a thief or something like that? You think I stole that money?”

  Del just looked at her.

  “I don’t know what to say. I’ve made a million mistakes in my life. I’ve been stupid and weak and a coward. But I’m not a criminal. I’m just not.”

  There was a long silence.

  “I don’t know what that man wants. I don’t know what he’s looking for. Maybe it’s my fault he came after me, because I went online. Or there’s just something wrong with me, and he saw it, and it made him mad. I don’t know. But I’m not hiding anything from yo
u. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t put you in danger like that.” Her voice broke again, and she cleared her throat. She stood and walked to the bathroom, easing the door shut behind her.

  If she’s hiding something, Del thought, she’s a way better liar than I thought.

  The surprise of Lola’s sexy underwear slipped into Del’s consciousness unbidden. What else was hiding underneath that innocent exterior?

  Lola walked back into the room. “I don’t keep a lot of cash in the house, just a few hundred dollars.” She had her arms wrapped around her, but her eyes were clear, her voice steady. “I don’t have any jewelry or expensive art or, you know, drugs or anything. And I don’t have that money. What could he want from me?”

  “That’s what I’m wondering,” Del said, letting her voice harden, and she saw Lola’s eyes cloud over.

  “Del,” she wailed, “I don’t know what you think I’m keeping from you. I haven’t done anything criminal. I promise. I swear!”

  Del tried to steel herself, but she couldn’t. If she’s lying, she’s lying. I can’t do this.

  She put her arms around Lola, who buried her face in Del’s chest.

  “Why is this happening?” Lola started to sway. “You don’t believe me, but I’m telling the truth. I swear, I swear I am.”

  Del eased her onto the bed, still holding her tightly. “It’s okay. I believe you. It’s not your fault.” She repeated some version of this over and over for several long minutes. Her words ran together and formed a soothing lullaby, and she slowly felt Lola relax into her.

  Her soft hair tickled Del’s throat, chin, arms. Her body went limp against Del’s. Her breathing slowed and deepened. Del leaned back against the smooth, cold headboard with Lola cradled against her and closed her eyes, still murmuring mindlessly. She was so tired. Her mind felt like it had been racing in circles for hours.

  They fell asleep like that. In her last moments before giving in to slumber, Lola felt Del’s breath on her forehead like a warm kiss. She tried to lean up into Del’s lips and couldn’t force her tired body to move.

  Tomorrow, she thought. I’ll kiss her tomorrow.

  She dropped in and out of nightmares. In one, she and Del were riding a roller coaster. Up and down they whizzed, and voices behind them hooted and screamed and laughed. Lola knew that the track was worn and rickety, and she could hear the creaks and groans of the rotting wood. The whole structure swayed as the small cart rattled around and barely clung to the crackling beams. It was dangerous but no one else seemed to realize it.

  A huge crowd watched from the ground, seemingly blind to the danger. They cheered and waved, and Lola couldn’t figure out how to signal to them or the operator, who was hidden behind a cutout of a giant whale. Lola was rigid with rising terror. She tried to warn Del, who was laughing and cheering with her arms upraised, a jubilant smile lighting up her face.

  Lola tried to scream, but she had no voice.

  Del, watch out! Hold on! Del! Del!

  She struggled against the heavy metal restraints that held her pressed against the hard plastic of the seat.

  Del! Del, no, watch out!

  But Del didn’t hear her. She waved her arms and cheered. The restraint that held her, Lola saw, was only a thin, frayed rope. Lola plucked at her sleeve, but Del didn’t seem to notice.

  Nooooooo! She screamed as the rope gave way.

  Del’s body shot up out of the car just as the track dropped and they careened into a sharp downturn. Lola’s fingers clawed the air, searching for Del’s arms, legs, feet, but she was gone before Lola could get her. She tried to look up to see where Del had gone and was blinded by the bright sun.

  No, no, come back! Del! No!

  ***

  Del was awakened early by Lola’s whimpers and gasps. She wasn’t sure how to respond when Lola suddenly bucked violently upward and screamed.

  Del tried to calm her but couldn’t seem to wake her up. She shook Lola, called her name, but nothing worked for what felt like several minutes. Finally, clawing at Del’s shirt, her face streaked with tears, Lola startled awake and stared into Del’s eyes in shock. Her skin was white and cold, her eyes dark with fear and shock.

  “Y’okay?” Del’s voice was gruff.

  “Oh, Del!”

  Lola’s arms were wrapped around Del’s neck. She didn’t think. She reached up and grabbed Del’s face and kissed her. Del was stiff and unresponsive at first, but then her mouth softened, and she started kissing Lola back. Suddenly she pulled away, and Lola opened her eyes.

  “Del, I—”

  “Gotta go,” Del muttered, pushing free and grabbing the black duffel and fleeing the room.

  Oh, no. She must despise me, thought Lola, still slouched on the bed where Del had left her.

  Damn, thought Del, racing down the stairs and to the car. I should have questioned her about the money. I should have pushed her away.

  She dumped her stuff in the car and stood at the open door for a moment. She trudged back up the stairs, opened the door, and stood outside.

  Lola headed toward her, but Del held up her hands.

  “Okay,” she started, “we can’t do stuff like that. I have to focus on finding this guy, and I can’t do that if you, if we—”

  “All right. I’m sorry, Del.”

  Del frowned. “We have to talk about something.”

  “Something else?” Anxiety made Lola’s voice rise a little too high, and she blushed.

  “Yeah.” So, Del thought, she’s uncomfortable too. Use it.

  She eased inside, and Lola sat on the edge of the bed. Del pulled a chair over to sit in front of her, rubbing her hands together. Lola leaned forward, her eyes fixed on Del’s. She looked so trusting! Del hesitated. Stop stalling!

  “Phan got a call from a Feeb, uh, an FBI agent, Christopher James—do you recognize that name? Like, from when Beckett died, maybe?”

  Lola considered for a moment and shook her head. “Sorry. I don’t. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t one of them. There were so many, and I was kind of in shock, I guess. My lawyer might know. I have his card in my wallet.”

  She handed Del the card, and Del pretended to study it.

  “Because he was dead?”

  “What?”

  “You were in shock because Beckett was dead?” Del watched her closely. “You missed him? You loved him?” Was that really relevant? She told herself that it was.

  There was a long pause. Lola hugged herself, looked down, crossed her legs. Uncrossed them, crossed them the other way.

  “It’s hard to—I was alone with just him for a long time. Then he died, and I was relieved, and I felt guilty for being relieved. Mostly, I couldn’t believe he was gone. It was like God dying or something. I know it sounds stupid.”

  “Okay,” Del continued as though Lola hadn’t said anything. “This guy, James, he says that they might have a lead. The Feds were investigating Beckett for a while. They started a couple years before he died. Did you know Henry Davis well?”

  Lola shook her head. “No! Listen, the lawyers and whoever, they kept insisting that I must know Dr. Davis, that we conspired together, that we had an affair, that I was part of some big conspiracy to steal money or something.” She took a deep breath and forced herself to speak slowly. “I never went to Orrin’s office. I never met his partner. I didn’t even know he had a partner. I never met the nurses or patients. We didn’t go on vacations or out to dinner or to people’s houses. I went to his brother’s house once a year, and I went to the grocery store every Friday. Orrin would call me at ten o’clock and tell me to go. Then I had to call him by eleven o’clock and say I was back, or—that was it. I didn’t go to lunch or to the movies or talk on the phone, except to Orrin and only when he said to. I cooked the dinner he told me to cook, and I wore the clothes he told me to wear. He picked my toothpaste and my deodorant and my underwear. He controlled everything I did.”

  Del didn’t react. She filed the disclosures away for later, refu
sing to process them beyond storing them. She kept her muscles relaxed, her face blank.

  Lola chewed her lip. “I don’t think, I mean, maybe Orrin wasn’t the nicest person in the world, but he wasn’t a thief. I don’t think he was a thief.” She shook her head and lowered it. Her voice was a barely audible murmur. “I don’t.”

  Del waited for Lola to lift her head. “Thank you. I have a better understanding of what things were like.” There was more she wanted to say, more she wanted to ask. But now was not the time. And this was not the way. She took a deep breath, and she saw the way Lola braced herself for whatever Del might say next. God, I hate that. I hate that kicked dog look.

  “Lola, the Feds seem pretty sure that Beckett was embezzling a lot of money. James told Phan that maybe somebody killed him—sabotaged his car, maybe—and maybe killed Davis too. That this somebody figured out what they were doing and has been trying to find the money. James says the guy might think you know where the money is. He might have been trying to get you out of the house. He thought you might have the money in your house.”

  Lola shook her head. “I swear, Del, I don’t know anything about any secret money. If I knew anything about it, I would have told you way back when this whole thing started. I’m not keeping anything from you. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Listen, I gotta go. I’m meeting with Phan and the Fed in a little while.” She rose and started to leave. One hand on the door, she paused. “Lola, what did you take with you?”

  “What?”

  “When Beckett kicked you out?”

  She tilted her head. “Nothing. I mean, Orrin packed me a bag, some clothes. That’s all. The key to my car. Cash, three thousand dollars. My purse. Oh!” She laughed and flushed bright red. “The next day, I snuck into the house. I took my computer.” She shrugged.

  Del eyed her. “Nothing else?”

  Lola shook her head. “No. I was trying not to make him mad. I thought maybe it was a trick. I thought he was probably going to kill me anyway, but I didn’t want to give him a reason. So, just the computer. And my music box. It isn’t worth anything, it just has sentimental value.”