Rita Hayworth's Shoes

by Francine LaSala

  “How did you know we were here?” Amy asked.

  “Hannah told me,” he replied, a little brusquely.

  “What can I do for you, Ollie,” he asked, eyeing his friend suspiciously.

  “Just tying up some loose ends on the Heimlich case,” he explained. “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” Deck replied, tentatively, and the two men stared at each other for a while.

  “Okay, I think I have what I need for now,” said Ollie. “See you guys later,” he said, and he showed himself out.

  Deck turned to Amy, and she started to feel a little scared. “What did he really want?” Deck asked.

  “He told me Marny was back,” Amy said.

  “Is that all?”

  “Pretty much,” she replied, but she wasn’t at all comfortable in his interest in things or the river of perspiration cascading over his forehead and face. “Are you sweating, Deck?” she asked him. “Why are you sweating like that?”

  Deck let out an exaggerated sigh. “We’ve been through this before,” he snapped. “No hair, remember? Nothing to stop the flow.”

  “Huh,” she considered this. “It’s just that… It’s just…”

  “It’s just what?” he barked.

  “I’ve just never seen it so bad,” she said, carefully.

  “I guess it’s hot in here,” he deflected and then softened. “Look, I know we still need to talk about things, you and me.”

  “I know,” she said, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he had to say now.

  “I still have some things I have to take care of. Can we get together at three?”

  “Sure,” she said, but she wasn’t sure of anything anymore. She was feeling full of suspicion and doubt and worry. “But…”

  “Hey, just trust me, okay?” he said. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “Okay,” she said, now not believing either his intentions or her sincerity.

  ##

  When lunchtime rolled around, Amy wasn’t hungry, but she took up Hannah on her offer to join her for lunch at the Student Union because she knew it would be weeks or even months before she saw Hannah again.

  “I can’t believe I’m leaving tomorrow. Seems incredible,” Hannah said, and bit into her turkey club sandwich.

  “What did you say you were looking for again?” Amy asked. “I can’t keep track.”

  “Because you never listen when I tell you about any of this?”

  Amy felt the color rise in her cheeks. Why didn’t she pay attention to Hannah when she talked about all of this? “Maybe.”

  Hannah stared at Amy for a moment or so before she finally spoke, “I’m looking for El Dorado.”

  “El Dorado?” Amy asked, incredulously.

  “Sure.”

  “But that’s ridiculous.”

  “Why? Why is it ridiculous?”

  “I mean, you do know that El Dorado doesn’t exist?”

  Hannah regarded her coolly. “How do you know?”

  Amy laughed. “Because it doesn’t.”

  “But how do you know?”

  “I guess I don’t know,” Amy said, and then she was quiet for a moment. “I guess I don’t really know anything anymore.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “This whole Deck thing, I guess. It just seems so crazy. So out of the blue, you know?”

  “Hmmm,” was all Hannah said.

  “Why hmmmm?”

  Hannah wiped her face with her napkin. “What difference does it make in your life one way or the other?” she baited.

  “Because I…”

  “You’re involved with that maniac now, aren’t you? Forget it. Don’t answer that. I already know you are.”

  “He’s not a maniac.”

  “Then why was the detective here asking questions about him?” Hannah asked, now raising her voice.

  “I don’t know. I guess tying up some loose ends before putting the Heimlich case to bed. Why are you getting so excited?”

  “I’m just saying, that detective didn’t have the look of a cop putting a case to bed. If you ask me, he just opened up something new and he’s ready to pounce.”

  “On what? You think Deck killed Heimlich?”

  “I’m not sure how Heimlich is involved in any of this,” said Hannah. “I’m just saying it doesn’t add up.”

  “Good, because Deck would never hurt anyone.” Then the image of a small bald boy beating a goldfish with a shoe swam through her head and she hated herself for it.

  “He’s really got you, doesn’t he?” Hannah said, and shook her head. “You really are the kind of girl who sleeps with a guy once and then blam! You can’t see straight anymore.”

  “How did you know about that?”

  “Let’s just say anthropologists and archaeologists are like detectives. You know this.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Okay. Well, it’s totally obvious to look at the two of you. But I still don’t trust him.”

  “Why do you say that? You’ve been suspicious of him from day one and you’ve never had a reason.”

  Hannah looked away.

  “Tell me. What do you know?”

  “It’s nothing. Just something Liz told me.”

  “What?”

  Hannah picked at her French fries and tried to avoid eye contact. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it isn’t true.”

  “Tell me.”

  “You know they used to work together?”

  “Duh.”

  “Well…Liz said that he used to get, well, physical with his wife. Apparently he has a hair-trigger temper and…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think you know,” Hannah said, and paused for a moment. “But seriously, how would Liz know, right?” she looked away. “Probably just heard a rumor or something.”

  “Probably,” said Amy, but the doubt was pretty much already out there and beginning to set in.

  “Anyway,” said Hannah, finishing the rest of her burger in one bite, “I’m gone as of tomorrow. Anything I can bring you from the jungle?” she chipped cheerily.

  Amy wouldn’t admit that the only image she could conjure was Hannah’s head on a plate, shrunken down to the size of a small apple.

  ##

  After lunch, Amy returned to her cubicle to find Deck’s door still closed and Deck still locked behind it. She started to digest Hannah’s words. Was it possible that Deck wasn’t what he seemed? Had he really abused Marny and that’s why she left him? Maybe something old and buried and raw had triggered within him. So many questions unresolved. She glanced up at the clock on the wall. Only two-fifteen. Three o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

  Except that three o’clock wasn’t coming—not for her and Deck. Because at two-fifty-five, Detective Oliver Franks stormed into the English department of Charles Stratton University, accompanied by two very serious-looking uniformed officers. Amy stood, subconsciously blocking the path to Deck’s door, but Ollie waved her back as he headed toward Deck’s office with focused intent.

  “Marny’s missing again,” said Ollie to Deck, who had opened his door at the commotion outside. “Why didn’t you tell me she was back?”

  “I didn’t think it mattered,” said Deck, his forehead all a’glisten. “I mean, she was back. She came here looking for money—Amy will back that up,” he said, not looking at Amy. “But I didn’t have anything to give her. So I guess she ran off again.”

  “Except this time she left a note,” Ollie said, as he held up a white envelope.

  “A note?” Deck asked, either not aware it had existed or doing a very good impression of someone pretending to not be aware. “Well
, what does it say?” he asked, looking away.

  Ollie looked at Deck, sizing him up. He opened the envelope. “She says she fears for her life. That she’s afraid of you—that you’re going to hurt her again.”

  “That’s preposterous. Surely you don’t believe–”

  “She says here that she left you the first time because you went crazy and burned all your photo albums in a ditch in the backyard,” Ollie said flat and serious. Deck and Ollie shared a pointed stare.

  “Where did you get that note?” asked Amy. “Where did it come from?”

  Ollie looked coldly at Amy. “Do you know a Hannah Lindstrom?”

  “Hannah?” she was baffled. “She did…”

  “She turned it in.”

  “But how would she…where did she get that note? This doesn’t add up,” she looked at Ollie. “Surely you can see that this doesn’t add up. Hannah doesn’t know Marny. How could she…”

  “I’m afraid we’re going to have to head downtown to sort this out, Deck.”

  “But why would she do this?” Amy was dumbfounded. “Why would she…”

  Deck sighed deeply. “I understand, Ollie. Let’s get to the bottom of it,” he said, as one of the officers whipped out his cuffs.

  “I don’t think that will be necessary, Patterson,” Ollie said, not taking his eyes off Deck. “I know this guy. He’ll come peacefully.”

  “We were supposed to have that talk,” she said to Deck as he started to leave. “At three.”

  Deck turned to Amy and smiled warmly at her. “Sorry, Amy, but it looks like I can’t do it today.”

  “But…” she pleaded and stopped, visibly in shock as she watched him walk off between the two officers.

  “Ollie, you can’t be serious,” she said. “You can’t do this to Deck. What will Jane say?” Then she gasped. “Does Jane know about this?”

  Franks turned around, “Actually could you do me a favor? Could you call Jane and tell her I’ll be late—”

  “Are you kidding me? I’m not telling Jane anything for you.”

  “Amy, it’s okay,” Deck reassured, but didn’t look very sure of anything. “Ollie’s just doing his job,” he said, taking a few steps towards her. “There’s a note. There’s evidence. He’s got to check out his leads,” he said, and stroked her tenderly on the cheek. “Which reminds me,” he said. “Do you still have the dolls?”

  “Huh?” she asked, now completely confused.

  “Heimlich’s dolls. Tell me you still have them?”

  “What does that even mean? The dolls? Who cares about the dolls?”

  His face went dark again. “The fucking dolls, Amy. Do you have them?” he bellowed, and she backed away. The ferocity of this outburst wasn’t lost on anyone.

  “On second thought,” Franks said, staring point-blank at Deck, “Patterson, why don’t we use those cuffs. Until we know what’s what.”

  As Amy watched two uniformed police officers and her best friend’s boyfriend take away the man who just hours ago could have been the man she loved, Hannah quietly approached. “I’m so sorry, Amy. I really am. But I always knew there was something off about that guy.”

  ###

  Later that day, Amy Ann Miller met with the department head, Dr. Bateman, to submit her formal resignation as assistant to Professor Decklin Thomas, or any professor for that matter. Three days after that, she set herself to the task of cleaning out her own workspace. This was just what she was doing when David came back into her life. “Hey,” was all he said.

  She looked up. “Hey.”

  He didn’t say anything for a minute, just watched her, and then, “Sorry about your boss.”

  “He isn’t my boss anymore,” she said flatly.

  “Oh. All right then,” he shrugged his shoulders. “So no biggie.”

  “He was my friend.”

  “Okay. Sorry. I guess I can’t say anything right around you anymore.”

  Despite everything, she couldn’t help but feel bad for David. “No. I’m sorry,” she said. “It really isn’t a big deal. I’m just a bit overwhelmed by everything is all. Let’s start over. How are you doing? How’s Liz?”

  “Funny you should ask,” he said. “She kind of left.”

  “What do you mean left?”

  “She said she wasn’t happy. She was looking for new adventures or something.”

  “Seems like a new trend,” Amy scoffed.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Sure,” he said.

  “There’s more,” he continued. “She said I wasn’t the one.”

  “Tough break,” she sneered.

  “I know,” he half laughed. “Pretty ironic, eh?”

  She had nothing to say.

  “So, what are you up to?” he asked.

  “Just finishing up here,” she said.

  “I know. But what I meant was, what are you doing later?”

  She cocked one eyebrow at him, suspicious of his intentions but opting to play it cool. “Getting ready for my defense.”

  “Right,” he nodded. “Hey, maybe I could help you prepare?”

  “I’m not so sure,” she hedged.

  “I guess I deserve that,” he shook his head. “But hey, maybe you can let me buy you a cup of coffee or something sometime?”

  She watched him, shifting from one foot to the other, and looking about as nervous as a junior high student asking a girl out for the first time. It disarmed her. “I guess I don’t see why not,” she said.

  “Great!” he replied. “Tomorrow maybe?”

  She eyed him for a minute, this beautiful man who had stolen so much of her heart, so much of her life, and couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t a huge mistake waiting to happen. But she was as curious as anyone is when driving by a car wreck. “Sure,” she said.

  14. How Amy Visited Deck at the Precinct and How It Didn't Go Very Well

  About a week or two later, Amy entered the precinct building from the pouring rain and shook out her umbrella. She had to do a double take, however, as the precinct wasn’t like anything she’d seen in the movies or on TV, where they’re all beige and gray and dreary.

  This precinct was definitely different. It was almost cheerful. At least in the lobby, where the walls were paneled in a rich mahogany hue. There was a square coffee table covered with magazines. A couch and a couple of comfortable chairs surrounded the table. A variety of plants set around the room softened the effect. On the back wall, a giant fish tank was home to a rainbow assortment of saltwater fish. Though aside from a uniformed officer manning the front desk, the space was empty.

  She nodded at the officer as she looked around and spotted Deck in a far room, his back to the door. Franks saw her come in; he waved and whispered something to Deck, who didn’t turn around.

  “Hi, Amy,” he said, giving her a much warmer hug than he had the other day as he greeted her in the lobby. He motioned for her to follow him to a nearby interrogation room, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Deck.

  “What’s he doing in there?” she asked.

  “Scrabble, of course,” he explained. “I’m letting him win.”

  “I guess that’ll help things a little,” she said.

  “You look different,” Ollie said, sizing her up. “What’s different about you? You’re not ill?”

  “No,” she replied, puzzled.

  “Huh,” he said, unconvinced. “Must be the weather then,” he said, but she didn’t hear him, because she was distracted by the sight of an enormous cat, the biggest cat she had ever seen. She couldn’t take her eyes off the giant fur ball as it ventured up to the table where Deck sat and rubbed up against his leg.

  “What is that?�
�� she gasped.

  Franks smirked at her. “That’s his cat,” he answered, matter-of-factly. “You never met Fluffy?”

  “Are you sure that’s a cat and not a giant raccoon?”

  “It’s a Maine coon. She’s a big one all right, but she’s mostly harmless.”

  Amy smiled. “Since when are you allowed to bring your pets to jail with you?” she asked and watched Deck lift and affectionately cuddle the enormous animal.

  Now she found herself getting angry. “And why is he here anyway? Do you really have to hold him here? You know as well as I do that he didn’t harm that woman. That he’s innocent.”

  “And here I thought you didn’t care,” he smirked. “I’m not holding him here,” he said. “He’s free to go if he wants. He just chooses not to.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “I told you he spent a lot of time here after Marny vanished the first time, right? I think he feels better being here, than at home. Alone.” The accusation stabbed Amy right through the heart. It would be too complicated if she chose to defend herself, so she remained silent.

  “Anyway, I’m sure he’d love to talk to you,” he said.

  “Sure,” she said, and she followed Ollie down the hall.

  “You’re back!” screamed Deck as they approached. “Wait till you see what I have for you!” he said jumping up. “Double-letter score for ALL! It’s simple and strategic!”

  Amy and Ollie both shook their heads, both immediately knowing he could have gotten more points had he used the homonym and placed the “W” from his tray on the actual “double letter” square instead.

  Deck was oblivious, beaming with pride as if he’d just discovered a cure for cancer, but seeing Amy, his face fell. “It’s you.”

  “Hi, Deck,” she said. “How’s it going?”

  “I guess it’s been better. And I guess it’s also been worse. Please sit,” he said, motioning to the empty chair on the other side of the table.

  “Let’s give these two some privacy,” said Ollie, scooping up Fluffy. “We’ll be right outside if you need. Just give a holler,” he said, and closed the door behind him.