The Devil To Pay (Hennessey.)

by Marnie Perry

  They were silent as they drove back to Eden, Adela thinking about that last kiss and how there had been something in it that had not been there before, something sweet and gentle, something significant. She wondered if he had been thinking the same thing she had that this was their last night together. She felt an overwhelming sadness envelope her. She didn’t want to say goodbye to him, she wanted him to stay with her, she never wanted to say goodbye.

  Before she knew it they were in Eden and because it was still pouring down with rain he once again parked as close to the woods as he could get. He opened his door but she put her hand on his arm and said, ‘no don’t get out, there’s no need for you to get wet too. I’ll be all right from here.’

  He hesitated, ‘are you sure?’

  She smiled, ‘Yes, I’m sure; I’m not made of sugar you know, I won’t melt.’

  He laughed and leaned behind him and picked up a raincoat that had been on the back seat. ‘Well I don’t want to take the risk so at least take this. Besides, I don’t want you calling me later and calling off the dinner because you’re drying your hair.’

  She giggled and then very shyly reached over and kissed his cheek, her lips were as soft as a raindrop on grass. She said, ‘thank you, Sterling, for a lovely day.’

  ‘Right back at ya.’ She laughed, ‘I’ll see you at eight?’

  ‘Yes.’ She opened the door but once out looked back and said, ‘and don’t be late.’

  ‘Who me? Never.’

  She giggled, ‘bye, Sterling.’

  ‘Bye.’

  She put the raincoat over her head and after giving him one last wave she ran into the woods hoping and praying that she wouldn’t meet the Carters.

  Hennessey watched her go his mind racing with thoughts of tonight and what was it meant to him, he tried very hard not to think what it would mean to her.

  When she had told him all he wanted to know he would just do it, no mess, no fuss, no explanations, nothing. He would not tell her what he would do with the information or why he was doing what he was doing. He would not tell her what Glissando had told him to tell her about Desi. He would let her keep her faith and trust in him, that he was a genuine, caring, charming southern guy. He would not tell her what he was; he would not disavow her of the belief that he had liked her, that he felt affection for her, that he had been as close to her as he had been to any woman in his entire life. He owed her that.

  CHAPTER 26.

  Adela had not seen the Carters, or anyone else for that matter, on her way back to her cabin. She had dried herself out and changed into jeans and T-shirt and was now looking in the fridge and cupboards for something to cook for that night. She had some beef in the freezer which she took out and set ready to defrost in the microwave. She also had frozen vegetables, potatoes, carrots, broccoli and peas. She would do an English Sunday roast complete with Yorkshire puddings. She had milk and eggs but no flour.

  She wanted to make an English trifle for desert too. She looked in the cupboard, she had custard in a carton, that would do, but nothing else with which to make a trifle, no cream or jelly, or anything to put on top, like chocolate buttons. Never mind, she would get those things and the flour from the store after she had prepared everything else. She put the beef into the microwave to defrost and put the potatoes and carrots broccoli in saucepans ready to be cooked and the beef in the oven on a low heat to cook.

  She looked through the window it was still raining but not as torrential as it had been. She looked at her watch and saw it was 6.30, plenty of time to go to the shop and then get ready for 8.00clock, ready for Sterling.

  She picked up the raincoat Hennessey had lent to her, she smiled as she did so. He was so thoughtful, so considerate of her welfare. This brought her mind to this afternoon, not their argument but afterwards, the picnic, the walk by the lake and the swans, but of course mostly how he had made love to her. Her skin prickled with Goosebumps as she recalled the sensations he had aroused in her. She had read about people making love, even some very graphic love scenes, but never did she think she would ever feel the way those fictional people did, she thought that was all it was fiction.

  But now she knew differently, now she knew what it was like to feel exquisite pleasure, that fierce heat of enchantment, that warm glow of absolute satisfaction and contentment. Now she knew what it was like to be touched intimately by a man of experience and skill. She put her nose to the material of the raincoat and breathed in, it smelt of him and her heart did a flip and wetness appeared between her legs. She shook herself, embarrassed even though there was no one there.

  She slipped on the coat which was a mile too big, but as stupid as it was it gave her a feeling of comfort. She picked up her phone and slipped it into the pocket of the coat, she wouldn't normally take her phone just to go to the shop but Sterling might call and she didn't want to miss him if he did.

  As she made her way through the woods into the town, she once again hoped she wouldn’t see the Carters she didn’t want to get into a confrontation with them. She knew she should apologise to them for Hennessey’s behaviour, but that felt somehow like betraying him. If he was sorry he could say so himself, it was not for her to apologise on his behalf. And she had nothing to be sorry for, she had done nothing wrong. Still, she felt awful and guilty about what had happened, they were nice people, decent people, and she liked them very much. She would do everything she could to make it up to them, maybe invite them out to dinner tomorrow, all of them, whirling dervishes and all. She smiled, but then the smiled slipped as she remembered that tomorrow he would be gone, gone from Eden, gone from Mississippi, gone from her life forever.

  She chastised herself; she knew this would happen, knew he would leave eventually, and even if he stayed she knew she would leave eventually.

  But what had happened to sensible Adela Anne Faraday, she seemed to have left her behind in the U.K.

  As she thought this she recalled how he had used her middle name, she had no recollection of telling him what it was, although she must have. She would ask him later.

  In the town she headed for the grocery shop which she knew remained open until late. As it was she didn’t see the Carters in fact there was hardly around at all, maybe because most of the shops were closed or because it was dinner time, not to mention it was raining. She walked along the pavement past the shops and as she passed Dean’s book shop she slowed her pace, the light was on and the door slightly open. She didn’t really want to linger but she didn’t want to pass by Dean’s shop and not say hello, she hadn’t seen him, not to speak to anyway, since the day she’d gone to his shop and he had warned her about Sterling. She hesitated by the door and was about to enter when she heard voices from the back of the shop, she went in. She was about to call out Dean’s name when she froze as a voice she knew very well came to her, ‘you don’t have to answer that, Maxwell, I already know the answer, you’re jealous.’

  ‘Jealous?’ Adela heard Dean say. ‘Of what exactly? You?’ He accompanied this question with a derisive laugh.

  ‘Yeah, me.’ Sterling Hennessey answered, ‘you were to chicken to go for it yourself, you hummed and hawed, and procrastinated. You probably had to look it up in one of your musty books, see what the old literary genius’s would have done. You’d probably have to look up in a book what to do with a woman in the first place.’

  She heard Dean say, ‘is that why you came in here, to insult me, to get some kind of perverse pleasure out of riling me?’

  Hennessey laughed, ‘well a guy has to get his fun somewhere don’t he.’

  ‘You’re a nasty bastard.’

  Hennessey guffawed, 'maybe, but a lucky bastard, luckier than you that’s for sure, I got her didn’t I?’ I saw how you looked at her, how you watched her walk along the street, your tongue was almost on the floor, and I bet you had to use one of those little paperbacks over there to cover your hard on.’

  Adela gasped then covered her mouth with her hand. She waited expecting a
ny moment to see them both come through the door and see her there but they didn’t.

  She stood there shocked and appalled at the way they were talking about her. She moved towards the back of the shop.

  There was a silence in which Adela was rooted to the spot her mind racing. What was Sterling doing here arguing with Dean and being so sarcastic and horrible? She knew they didn’t like one another so what was Sterling doing in the shop of a man he despised?

  Nothing good by the sounds of it. She walked slowly and cautiously forward hoping the floor boards didn’t creak. When she reached the back of the shop the two men had gone outside where she knew Dean had a little yard where he kept his bike and other things like tools etcetera, she had seen it that first day when she had looked around.

  She heard Dean’s voice although it was too low for her to catch what he was saying, but whatever it was his tone was cutting. She heard Hennessey reply and although she couldn’t make out the words she had heard that tone before, it was chilling and contained a warning. A warning Dean obviously decided to ignore because he said something else in an even more biting tone this time accompanied by a derisive little laugh. Then the amusement went from his tone and his next words, although unintelligible to Adela, sounded contemptuous and nasty. She jumped backwards as a loud crashing sound came to her from the direction of the yard. Without thinking she dashed through the back of the shop out the door and into the yard.

  What she saw made her pull up sharply; Sterling Hennessey was leaning over Dean Maxwell who was lying on top of his bike bleeding from his nose and mouth. He attempted to get up but Hennessey raised his hand and punched him again and again, two very quick punches to the nose and mouth.

  Adela leapt forward and grabbed Hennessey’s arm just as he was about to strike Dean again. Hennessey hardly seemed aware of her or the grip she had on his arm. He shrugged her off as a though she was nothing more than an irritating bug and bending down picked Dean up by his shirt collar and when he was upright hit him again and again. Dean fell back onto the bike again and Hennessey leaned over him and was about to hit him again when Adela once more grabbed his raised arm yelling, ‘Sterling, what are you doing? For God’s sake stop.’ He reacted instinctively he turned quickly and with his free hand pushed her very hard, she stumbled trying to stay upright but tripped and fell heavily onto the concrete.

  She lay on the ground supporting herself on her elbows as she looked up at him her eyes wide with shock and fear as he took a step towards her his fist clenched.

  He stared down at her and never, not even on the night he had attacked the three men, had she seen such cold rage in anyone’s eyes. Then suddenly he blinked and she could see the moment he realised who she was, followed a second later by what he’d done. He took a step towards her but she moved backwards on her elbows. When he spoke she hardly recognised his voice so empty and lifeless did it sound. ‘I didn’t realise it was you,’ he took another step, ‘let me help you up.’

  She moved back again, ‘don’t, don’t touch me.’

  His eyes became hard and cold again as he looked down at her. Just then Dean moaned, Hennessey didn’t even look round, and Adela noticed that even after he had just punched a man into unconsciousness he wasn’t even out of breath. She leapt to her feet but staggered slightly, he again put out a hand to help her but she smacked it away and pushing him aside went to Dean who had lost consciousness again. She knelt beside him and felt his pulse, it was there but weak.

  Running into the shop she pulled out her phone. Hennessey didn’t attempt to stop her as she called an ambulance and told them that someone had been injured; she gave them the address and switched off the phone.

  She turned and looked around trying to find something to put under Dean’s head and something to stem the bleeding from his nose and mouth. She couldn’t see anything in this room so ran into the little kitchen where Dean had made tea for her several times. She found several small towels and soaked them under the tap, she also found Dean’s jacket lying over the back of a chair and grabbed that too.

  She ran back outside completely ignoring Hennessey who still stood in the same place, he seemed to be unaware of her and of Dean too, not only unaware but also unconcerned.

  Adela knelt beside Dean and very gently placed the jacket under his head then began to dab his swollen mouth and broken nose with the damp towel. His eyes were swollen and bruised as were his cheek bones, and his face was very white. If she hadn’t been able to see the slight rise and fall of his chest she would have thought he was dead.

  Just then she heard a siren getting closer. She tuned to look at Hennessey who was now looking down at her with curiosity as if he wondered why she was doing what she was doing. His expression was closed and distant as if he had had no part in what had happened. But his head shot up sharply when he too heard the siren. Adela said, ‘you’d better have a good explanation for Sheriff Taylor.’

  He looked down at her then to her surprise and disgust he smirked, ‘oh I’m sure you’ll do all the explaining that’s required.’ The he turned and with one swift and agile movement leapt onto a box and vaulted over the wall. Adela called, ‘hey, where are you going, come back,’ of course he didn’t and she yelled, ‘Sterling Hennessey, you coward.’ But just silence came back to her she turned back to Dean and whispered, ‘oh Dean, Dean I’m sorry, so sorry, this is all my fault, I’m so sorry.’

  She was sitting on the wet ground cradling his head when the Sheriff and the paramedics arrived simultaneously. After that everything was just a blur to Adela, she couldn’t remember telling the sheriff what had happened, but she must have because he called his deputies and got them to go over to the Horse and Hind to bring in Sterling Hennessey for questioning. But there was no sign of him or his belongings, either at the hotel or anywhere else in town. The sheriff put out an APB for him, they knew what kind of car he was driving, they had a good description of him, and he couldn’t have gotten far in such a short space of time. He would be picked up very soon and when he was Sheriff Taylor swore he would pay for what he had done to his friend Dean Maxwell.

  Maxwell having been taken to hospital in Gulfport was still unconscious with serious head injuries plus a broken nose, two black eyes, a broken cheek bone and four missing teeth. He also had a back injury caused when he had landed heavily on the bicycle. Altogether he was in a pretty bad way.

  Adela having given her statement to Sheriff Taylor sat with Dean and held his hand unaware of the nurses and doctors coming and going and of Sheriff Taylor until he spoke behind her. ‘Miss. Faraday, there’s two detectives outside would like to talk to you.’

  She looked round at him then back at Dean saying, ‘can’t it wait?’

  ‘I don’t think so, Miss. Faraday, they want to know as much as possible about Sterling Hennessey, and since you knew him better than anyone else in town you can give them vital information about him. And the sooner they get that information the sooner they’ll apprehend him.’

  She turned to him and if she had not picked up on the accusation in his tone she would have seen it in his face. He blamed her, she didn’t condemn him for that, she blamed herself too.

  She nodded and stood up, ‘I’ll talk to them.’

  He stood aside and as she passed him she stopped, ‘Sheriff Taylor, I’m so sorry about Dean. I really like him, I would never have wanted anything to happen to him.’

  The sheriff looked at her, not as he had when they had first met when he had been so friendly, but as though she was a stranger, an unwelcome stranger at that. She knew that everyone in Eden would look at her with that same expression now.

  She looked away and walked out of the room. She looked down the hallway and saw two men, one tall and thin, too thin really, and balding. He was in his forties and looked as though he had the weight of the world on his stooped shoulders. The other was younger and had scruffy blonde hair and was quite handsome in a rugged kind of way. As they approached she saw that the older man’s eyes were blue
and the younger man’s a light shade of green and both pairs of eyes were tired looking but keen and intelligent.

  She saw them appraising her, taking in her dirty clothes and her hair all in disarray. She instinctively put her hand up to tidy it then stopped herself.

  The older man said, ‘Miss. Faraday?’ She nodded, ‘I’m Detective Patrick Sullivan and this is Detective Ellis Leyton. We’re from The Violent Crimes Unit.’

  She tried to swallow the gulp she felt coming on at the words “Violent Crimes.” She managed to say, ‘hello.’ The two detectives glanced at each other then looked back at her.

  Sullivan said, ‘we’d like to ask you some questions about what happened today if that’s all right.’

  Although his tone was polite she knew that it didn’t mater whether she minded or not, one way or the other she would answer their questions. She nodded and Sullivan said, ‘thank you, we can sit in here out of the way.’ He indicated a small room to their left and the younger man opened the door and stood waiting for her to enter. She looked over her shoulder towards Dean’s room and Sullivan said, ‘this won’t take long, then you can get back to Mr. Maxwell’s bedside.’ She couldn’t miss the note of sarcasm in his tone and looked sharply at him before preceding him into the room; after all she had very little choice. There was a small table and three chairs one on one side and two on the other, it had obviously been arranged to look like a police interview room.

  Sullivan indicated the solitary chair, ‘please sit down, Miss. Faraday.’

  She sat and he asked, ‘can I get you anything, coffee, a soda, anything.’

  She said, ‘no, but thank you anyway.’

  Sullivan’s smile was tight as though he wasn’t used to using his lips for smiling; only grimacing.