Shotgun

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Shotgun Page 26

by Marie Sexton


  As if on cue, Lamar called, “Found her!” and stood up with Missy Prissy Pom-Pom Paw clutched in his arms. He wore only pajama pants, caked with dirt at the knees and hem. His feet were bare. He had what appeared to be a throw rug and a coarse wool blanket draped over his shoulders. And somehow, in the midst of it all, he was smiling.

  All the tension I’d carried since Naomi had burst through my door broke. I went to him. Grabbed him. Pulled him into my arms with the cat squirming and yowling between us. “Thank God you’re okay.”

  “You’re squishing Miss Priss.”

  “I don’t care,” I laughed, although I eased my grip on him enough to make sure we didn’t hurt her. “What happened? How did the fire start?”

  It was Matt who answered. He stood a few feet away, half his attention on the operations around him, half on us. “Molotov cocktails. Bastard threw them through his front window.”

  “Oh my God!” I unconsciously gripped Lamar harder. Missy Prissy yowled in protest, and I released him, although I didn’t let him go far. I held on to his shoulder, as if he still needed to be kept safe.

  “He tried to get in,” Lamar said to me.

  “Who?”

  “Whoever he is. I don’t know. I couldn’t see his face, but I heard him trying to use the key in the lock. I went to call Matt, and that’s when the bottles came through the window.”

  “It’s lucky you weren’t still in the living room,” Matt said.

  “Wait,” I said, confused. “He tried using a key?”

  “That must have been how he got in before,” Lamar said. “When he trashed the place. He must have disabled the fire alarm too, because it never went off. But Matt changed the lock for me yesterday, so—”

  “Wait,” I said again, trying to pinpoint the insistent ping in my brain. “Wait.” They stared at me, clearly confused, while I watched the snowflakes falling slowly into Lamar’s soot-stained hair. While I chased the mental mouse running through the corners of my mind. “You said he couldn’t have had a key before because—”

  “Because I had the locks changed right after I moved in.”

  “You changed them?” I asked, my heart racing. “Or you had them changed?”

  “What’s the difference?”

  Matt moved closer, keying in on the point of my questions. “Who changed the lock for you the first time?” he asked.

  “A locksmith. Martinez and Sons.”

  It all fell into place. The only other person I’d ever talked about Lamar with. “Oh my God,” I said. “I know who it is.”

  “What?” Lamar said so loudly, Missy Prissy jumped out of his arms with a yowl.

  “Who?” Matt asked, stepping closer. I had a feeling he was barely restraining himself from grabbing my arms and shaking me to get the information.

  “His name’s Dave Martinez. He’s Elena’s cousin.”

  Matt narrowed his eyes at me. “Are you sure?”

  “He’s the only person besides Elena I ever talked to about Lamar. We sort of”—I waved my hand in nervous circles—”had a thing.”

  “You told me there weren’t any exes,” Matt growled.

  “It was ages ago, all the way back in high school. It never even occurred to me.”

  “So why do you think it’s him now?”

  Because as seniors, Dave had wanted more, and I’d never wanted to give it. Not to him, at any rate. When he’d talked about us coming out together, I’d been dreaming of Lamar, and when the chips were down, I’d left him behind without a backward glance. But I didn’t say that. I said instead, “He’s one of the only two locksmiths in Coda. Him and his dad.”

  That was all he needed to hear. Matt whirled away, talking low into the radio on his shoulder. A second later, he yelled for one of his fellow officers before turning to Lamar. “How can I reach you?”

  “I don’t know,” Lamar stammered. “My phone was in the house—”

  “You can call my cell,” I said. “I left it at home, but—”

  “I have the number. I tried calling it first, but—”

  “I had the sound turned off for the night.”

  He turned to Lamar. “Check with the fire chief. Make sure they don’t need anything else from you. But if he gives you the all clear, you can go.”

  And then he was gone, and Lamar and I were left in awkward silence. There were a hundred things I needed to say to him, but this didn’t seem like the time.

  “I can stay someplace else,” Lamar started to say.

  “Don’t be silly. You’re coming home with me.”

  He hesitated, watching me warily, but finally nodded. I rounded up Missy Prissy—who thankfully hadn’t gone far—while Lamar checked with the fireman who seemed to be in charge. The flames had finally gone out, although the house popped and hissed. Smoke poured off its remains in thick, black plumes. I stared at it, holding the cat, who seemed none too pleased.

  Lamar had lost everything. I doubted anything had survived the flames. But he’d gotten out. He’d gotten Missy Prissy out. And now, I was sure we’d finally identified his stalker.

  Ten minutes later, we were cleared to go. The snow fell faster, although it melted the minute it hit the ground. I led him to my truck and held the passenger door open for him before handing him the cat and getting in on my side. I turned on the engine and cranked the heat—something I hadn’t bothered doing in my rush to get to his house.

  “Your feet must be freezing,” I said.

  “Now that you mention it,” he said. He hugged the blanket tighter around him. I wished I had a spare jacket to give him like before, but my back seat was empty. “I can’t believe it might finally be over,” he said, staring down at his bare toes as he angled them under the heater. “Do you really think it’s this Dave guy?”

  “It all fits.”

  He shook his head. “It’s so strange. All these horrible things he’s done, and I don’t even know him.”

  “You met him,” I said. “That night.”

  “I did?”

  “He was the one who called shotgun when we left the party.”

  “Oh. Him.” Lamar laughed. With the remains of his house smoldering a few yards away, he actually laughed. “Man, I was annoyed at him for wanting to ride with us.”

  “So was I.”

  “I didn’t pay much attention to him. I didn’t recognize him when he came to change my locks.”

  “He obviously recognized you.”

  “Well, in hindsight he asked a lot of questions. He had my name, and he asked why I’d moved to Coda. He asked about my aunt and uncle. I thought he was being friendly.”

  “I guess not.”

  “Still, it’s weird. It all feels so anticlimactic.”

  “You were firebombed in your own home, and it feels anticlimactic?”

  “It kind of does.”

  That certainly wasn’t the word I would have used, but I didn’t argue. “I’m glad it wasn’t worse.”

  I turned the car around. Only one cop remained at the barricade. He waved me through, and I saw Lamar tense as I turned toward my house.

  “Dom—”

  “Don’t. We’ll talk later, okay? For now, just let me get you home.”

  “I’m sure I could stay at Angelo’s again.”

  “No.” Although I realized as I said it how demanding I sounded. I took a breath and made an effort to speak in a quieter voice. “Unless you think you’d be more comfortable there. In which case, I’ll turn around. But I’d really like you to stay with me.” I glanced over at him and saw the weariness and confusion in his eyes. “Please.”

  “I don’t want to intrude again. That’s all.”

  “It’s not an intrusion. I want you there. I’ve always wanted you there, I just….” It was too much. This wasn’t the time. Not in the dark cab of my pickup truck with an angry cat yowling in the back seat. “You can stay as long as you need. I promise it won’t be a problem.”

  “What about Miss Priss?”

  “
She can come too.”

  “But you’re allergic to cats.”

  I laughed in embarrassment. “Well, about that… I probably owe you an apology. It was Naomi’s idea, but since I’m basically putty in her hands, I went along with it.”

  “You’re not allergic to cats?”

  “No.”

  He pondered that for a moment. “There is no cousin, is there?”

  “Oh, she has plenty of cousins, but the cat was never for any of them. She wanted it for you. She thought it would cheer you up.”

  “She was right.”

  I hesitated, trying to gauge his expression but failing miserably. “So, you’re not mad?”

  “Not at all. I’m glad. I’m actually kind of crazy about Miss Priss. I was trying to figure out how I was going to keep her.”

  “That’s a load off my mind. I was afraid I was going to be stuck with her.”

  We made the rest of the drive in silence, although Missy Prissy Pom-Pom Paw yowled plenty. Car rides were clearly not her thing.

  I found Naomi on the couch, waiting for me to come home despite me instructing her to go back to bed. She’d twisted the blanket covering her lap into ropes from worry. She jumped up the minute we walked in. “Dad, what happened? Is everybody okay?”

  “There was a fire,” I said.

  Her eyes flew to Lamar and Missy Prissy. The cat’s eyes were wide, her ears back, but she’d at least quit meowing. Lamar set her down, and she bolted for cover.

  “Oh my God. Mr. Franklin, are you okay?”

  “Fine,” Lamar said. But in the stark light of my living room, he looked anything but fine. His face and hair were black with soot, his eyes red and puffy from the smoke. The cuffs of his pajama pants were wet and muddy around his scratched bare feet. The rug and fire department blanket wrapped around his shoulders made him look like some kind of refugee, which I supposed was exactly what he was, in a way.

  “Come on,” I said to him. “I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

  He let me lead him down the hall, but then stopped short in the door of my bedroom.

  “Don’t you have a guest room?” he asked.

  “No.”

  He glanced at my queen-sized bed. “I can sleep on the couch.”

  “One thing at a time,” I said, wanting to put that discussion off for as long as possible. “You want to shower now or wait until morning?”

  “Morning,” he said. But then he caught sight of himself in the mirror over my dresser and stopped dead. “Good lord,” he muttered, reaching up to touch his hair, which stood in greasy, blackened clumps all over his head. “I take that back.” He looked down at himself, clearly shocked at what a mess he’d become. “These are the only clothes I have.”

  “We’ll get you some tomorrow.” I found a pair of sweats, then added a pair of boxers as an afterthought. They’d probably be a bit big on him, but at least they were clean. “You should use my shower,” I said, pointing at the bathroom door, “unless you want to search through thirty bottles of fruit-scented body wash in search of regular old shampoo, in which case, Naomi’s is down the hall.”

  His mouth twitched in the semblance of a smile. “That sounds like a bit too much work.”

  I left him to it, closing the door of my bedroom behind me. I found Naomi waiting for me in the hallway. “I put some water and tuna out for Missy Prissy Pom-Pom Paw, and I used that dishpan under the sink for a litter box.”

  “Where’d you find the litter?”

  “In the trunk of your car.”

  Of course. I’d had it for years in case I got stuck, but I’d completely forgotten it was there. “Good thinking.”

  She shifted from foot to foot, her arms crossed over her chest. “How bad was the fire?”

  “Pretty much destroyed the entire house. I think everything he owns is probably gone.”

  “Oh my God, Dad. How’d that happen? Didn’t he have a smoke detector?”

  “He did, but….” I stopped, struck by the enormity of having to tell her everything. “It’s a long story, and it’s nearly two. How ’bout we save it for another day?”

  “Okay. Is he spending the night?”

  “Is that okay?”

  “Sure.” She opened the door to her room but turned to grin at me before closing it. “I sleep with my headphones on, and I’m a really sound sleeper.”

  The knowing look on her face made me blush. “Naomi—”

  But she’d already closed the door.

  I sighed, torn between pride that she was smart as a whip and exasperation that she was growing up so damned fast. I thought about her words—her insinuation that Lamar and I were about to have sex—and felt an undeniable stir in my loins at the thought, but we had things to talk about first.

  The shower was still running, so I let myself into my bedroom. I kicked off my shoes, tossed my T-shirt into the hamper, and changed into a pair of clean sweats.

  Then I lay down on the bed and waited for Lamar.

  LAMAR

  THE SHOWER felt wonderful. It took me three shampoos to get all the soot out of my hair, but it was nice to have a few minutes to think. Tomorrow, I’d have to call my uncle and tell him the bad news. I’d have to deal with my lost phone, my lack of clothes, my students’ lost homework. But tonight….

  Well, tonight I had to deal with Dominic. And that meant I had to come clean. I had to try to set things right.

  The water was beginning to run cold by the time I turned it off. I toweled off quickly and put on the boxers and sweats, which were a bit big and hung low on my hips. I’d always worn briefs, and it felt strange to have everything hanging loose inside my oversized pants.

  I emerged to find Dom lying on the bed, hands behind his head, clearly waiting for me. He sat up upon seeing me, crossing his legs under him. “Feeling better?”

  “Yes.”

  “Matt called. He said they arrested Dave Martinez. They found empty bottles and gasoline in his car, and the burner phone he’s been calling you with in his pocket. And he had your key. Apparently Matt kept the old lock, so it was easy to prove it was him.”

  “Wow.” I shook my head, still stunned a man I’d only met once and barely remembered at all could have made my life such hell.

  “I had no idea he still carried such a grudge. We fooled around a bit as seniors, but I never took it seriously. He’s been married and divorced since then, but it must have mattered to him more than I realized.”

  “There was no way you could have known.”

  “I feel terrible. Everything that’s happened since you moved back was my fault.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s the one I blame, not you.”

  For a moment, neither of us spoke. Neither of us moved. The room felt thick with things we both longed to say, but the silence stretched on too long.

  “I should let you sleep,” he said at last, his tone cautious. “I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

  I shook my head. “I probably should be. I’m sure I will be later. But I don’t think the adrenaline’s worn off yet.” I couldn’t put it off any longer. Maybe waiting until morning would have been better, but we were here. Somehow, I knew we needed to have it done.

  I moved onto the bed so we faced each other, both of us sitting with our legs crossed, separated by two or three feet. It felt like a mile. I took a deep breath and dove in.

  “I’m sorry, Dom. I’m really, truly sorry for what happened between us.”

  He wrinkled his brow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “The way I treated you. I’ve been terrible.”

  “No!” he said, shocked. “What are you talking about? I’m the one who should be apologizing. After what happened the other day, and then this morning—”

  “No,” I said, holding up my hand to stop him. “All this time, you were being my friend. But I wanted more whether you did or not. And that was unfair. I kept pushing, even though you said no over and over again.”

  “Well, I wasn’t exactly
resolute in my refusal, was I?” I knew he was trying to joke, but I wasn’t ready to laugh. Not yet.

  “It was a really shitty thing for me to do.”

  He tugged at a thread on the bedspread. “You came on a bit strong a couple of times,” he said at last, “but I could never hold that against you. You’ve never been afraid to go after what you want. I admire you for that. I wish I could have followed you as easily this time as I did fifteen years ago.”

  His words made me feel better, but I had to say it all. “It’s more than that, Dominic. I realized the other day this has become my pattern. It’s what I do. It’s what I’ve been doing for years, trying to trade sex for love. It’s what I did with Jonas, and the guy before him, and the guy before him. And I guess I didn’t learn my lesson. I thought if I could get you to desire me, maybe eventually, you’d love me too.”

  He smiled at me, such a sweet, gentle smile, it made my heart ache. He reached across the bed and took my hand. “I do love you. I’ve always loved you. You didn’t need to give me sex for that.”

  A lump began to rise in my throat, but I refused to cry. “I should have been happy with what you were willing to give. I shouldn’t have pushed so hard for more.”

  “Maybe. But if you hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”

  I hesitated. “And where is ‘here,’ exactly?”

  “Together. One way or another.”

  Now he was going to start making promises again, and I didn’t want that. It would only mean he’d break them later. “Dom—”

  “No,” he said, holding up his hand to stop me, just as I’d done to him a moment before. “My turn.” He took a deep breath. “I have it on good authority that I’ve been an idiot.”

  This time, I did laugh. “Oh, really? I assume this is the authority of a thirteen-year-old girl with bright blue hair?”

  “That’s the one.” He turned and reached out to take a manila envelope off the bedside table. He held it out to me. “I have a present for you. I don’t know if this is the right time. I don’t know if you’ll even care at this point. But I’m giving it to you anyway.”

  I slowly reached out and took the envelope. It felt ominous. “What is it?”

 

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