Pink Neon

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

  For starters, jail, death, dishonor. At a minimum, losing my job. But he wouldn’t share those dark thoughts with his lady. “Let’s hope we never need to figure it out, querida. You need to pack, casual clothes, jeans, t-shirts, nothing too flashy, comfortable shoes, anything you can’t live without except your phone. You need to leave it here in the house.”

  Her lips parted and he knew she’d protest so he held up one hand. “I’ll get you a pay as you go phone, harder to trace. If you want, I’ll go get one right now. And bring plenty of cash if you have it, your purse, your driver’s license, passport, all that kind of stuff.”

  “How long will we be gone?”

  “As long as it takes,” Daniel said. He wished he had an answer to give Cecily.

  “When are we leaving?”

  He’d like to head out now but it wasn’t practical. Both he and Cecily could use some rest before they made the grueling journey, one he estimated would take a minimum of eighteen hours and maybe as much as twenty, depending on how many stops they made and the weather. “Early,” he said. “Before daylight anyway so you’d better pack tonight. Leave out what you’re going to wear for in the morning.”

  Cecily frowned. “All right,” she said. “I better do it now. Are you ready to go?”

  “Always,” he answered.

  “Then I’ll go pack now.”

  Daniel watched her go but made no move to rise from the couch. He admired the way she held her back stiff and straight, a no-nonsense pose. She’s got guts and courage. She’ll need both to see this thing through. Thirty minutes later, Cecily returned rolling a suitcase and dragging a duffel bag. He’d figured she’d have more baggage and asked, “Is this all?”

  “Yeah, sugar,” she said. “I crammed them full.”

  He lifted the duffel and groaned. “Damn, you weren’t kidding. It’s heavy.”

  “Do I need to take stuff out?”

  “No, its fine,” he told her. “Keep your purse and I’ll pack everything in the truck. Then we’ll go to bed.”

  After stowing his gear and her stuff in the bed of the truck, making sure it rode secure and wouldn’t shift during the long trip, Daniel came inside. Cecily and her cousin huddled together on the couch, deep in conversation, a serious one judging by their expression. Although he moved with a quiet step, Cecily became aware and glanced up. “Sugar, what now?”

  “Let’s get some sleep,” he said. His jaw ached where he’d clenched it tight with tension and stress. Both, combined with fatigue, delivered a dull headache too.

  Nia, quiet for some time, spoke up. “So who sleeps where?”

  “Shit,” Daniel said in a low voice. He hadn’t thought about sleeping arrangements, certain he’d share the only bed with Cecily. But he didn’t want to assign Nia the sofa. “I guess I can take the couch.”

  Cecily rose. “Oh, no, sugar, I want you with me,” she said, eyes bright and intent. “If you sleep out here, so do I.”

  “Guess that leaves me the couch,” Nia said. She didn’t sound angry.

  “Are you sure?” Daniel asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” Nia said. “I’ll take over the bed after you two leave me in charge. I’m cool with that.”

  He laughed, more out of politeness than mirth. “Thanks, Nia.”

  “Don’t mention it,” she said. “Just get my cuz out of this mess.”

  “I’ll do my best,” he replied. “Cecily, you ready to try to get some rest?”

  Two steps and she stood at his side. “Sure, sugar. I’m ready when you are.”

  A yawn stretched his sore jaw and he slid an arm around her waist. “Let’s go, then. I’m tired.”

  Without waiting for Cecily Daniel headed into her bedroom, removed his shoes and sank down on the bed. His headache expanded and he rested his head in his hands for a single moment and massaged his temples. Preoccupied he failed to hear Cecily enter but he caught a whiff of her perfume and looked up. “Does your head hurt?” she asked in her dark sugar voice. “Here, let me.”

  Her fingers, cooler than his, moved with light motions over his skin. Her touch created delicate circles, soothing and steady. Cecily stood in front of him, her breasts at eye level, and concentrated on what she did. “Damn, it feels good,” he said.

  “Does it help?”

  “Yeah,” he said, surprised. Although his headache didn’t vanish, it diminished enough to make a difference. “Thanks.”

  Cecily laughed, soft and low. “I’ll do you better than this,” she said. “Take off your shirt and lay down on your belly. I’ll give you a real massage.”

  His flesh tingled with anticipation but Daniel said, “You don’t have to, chica. You must be tired too.”

  “I am,” she said. “But I want to do it for you. You’re tenser than I’ve ever seen you and you won’t sleep if you can’t relax.”

  She made a good case. “All right,” he said with a groan. He removed his shirt and sprawled face down on the bed. Daniel couldn’t recall the last time he’d been this vulnerable to anyone. “Do your magic.”

  “Is that what you think this is?” she asked as her hands worked and kneaded his flesh with skill. His granite hard shoulders resisted at first but as Cecily worked, Daniel felt the taut flesh begin to yield. She caressed from the nape of his neck to just above his ass, her hands skimming with light strokes. Sometimes she used the heel of her hand with force to work out a rough spot and often paused to focus her attentions on a particular area. Her thumbs gouged and poked, then stroked with a gentle touch. Five, maybe ten minutes into the massage a rich and encompassing somnolence crept over Daniel. His flesh melted and bones softened. Until she said something about it, he hadn’t realized he uttered small sounds of pleasure. “If you were a cat, I swear you’d purr,” Cecily said. “Feels good, huh?”

  “Yeah,” he said. No one had ever given him a massage before and he’d never thought he would like one. Maybe he wouldn’t from anyone else, he mused, but Cecily erased his tensions. I couldn’t get it up if my life depended on it, though so I hope she doesn’t want sex after this. I don’t think I can. Not sure if I can move, either and I sure as hell don’t want to.

  Something damp and cold oozed onto his back and he shivered. “Easy, sugar,” Cecily told him. “It’s just a little lotion, that’s all.”

  Daniel relaxed. He recognized the familiar scent of Jergen’s, the same brand his mother used. It evoked a powerful sense of home and affection. Cecily rubbed lotion into his skin, each stroke a caress. “You’re making me sleepy,” he said but it wasn’t a complaint. God, he liked this.

  “That’s the idea, sugar,” she told him. “Soon as you go to sleep, I’m going to take a long soak in the tub. It’ll do for me what this is for you, then I’ll catch some winks too.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said. His mind drifted, lazy and without destination. He hadn’t been this unwound in years without sex or tequila. After a moment’s consideration, he decided tequila couldn’t deliver this level of tranquility. Sex, with anyone except Cecily, missed the mark too. “I could get used to this, querida.”

  “Good,” she said. “Give me a chance and I’ll spoil you. You’ve earned it.”

  He snorted but said nothing. Speech required too much energy and he didn’t want to expend any. Drowsiness invaded his consciousness but he hadn’t yielded to sleep when Cecily quit. Daniel laid still and listened as she ran her bath, the sound of the water splashing into the tub pleasant in his laid back state. When she began to sing, her music filtered through his layers of relaxation and he heard the words, sharp and clear.

  “Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed,” Cecily sang, her voice powerful and true. “Some say love, it is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed.”

  Daniel recognized The Rose, sung in different versions by both Bette Midler and Conway Twitter, a diverse range by any standard. He preferred Midler’s version, poignant and packed with emotion. Damn she’s got good taste in music, she likes the ones sure to rip your
heart out but touch your soul, just like I do. Daniel wondered why Cecily sang it now and then listened as she finished the song.

  Her voice trailed off into silence and he knew, felt it down to the bottom of his being. She loves me. And sweet Christ I love her too. I’ve never felt like this for any woman, ever. I want to be with her. She lights my fires and burns them hot. I need her touch, I crave her sass and I’d keep her safe no matter what.

  Maybe he should get up and go say the words. But Daniel doubted enough he held back. Besides he didn’t want to leave the cocoon she’d woven around him. He needed sleep and so did she. They faced a long trip and probably more tribulation than anyone deserved. If he told her and she didn’t share his feelings, it’d get awkward with speed and they didn’t need complications. I’ll wait until I know for sure, until its right and we’re both free of this mess, home safe.

  By the time he heard her light footsteps enter the bedroom, he’d almost slid into a deep sleep. Cecily approached the bed and leaned down to stroke his hair. Then she folded her fingers against his cheek. “Sleep tight, sugar,” she whispered. “I think I love you.”

  The words penetrated his mental blanket but he didn’t rouse. Struck dumb with the reality, the unvarnished truth, Daniel folded the words into his heart and kept them. He snuggled up with them the way a child cuddles a favorite stuffed animal and he slept, long and deep. And, in time he dreamed with joy and light, not a nightmare but a pleasant interlude. When he woke, he couldn’t recall all the details of the dream but it included Cecily. Daniel savored the lingering sense of well-being and joy, the scant remembered images of the Rio Grande near El Paso. He recalled sunshine, her hand tucked into his, and the river stretching out as it had done for centuries.

  He opened his eyes and expected to see Cecily but she wasn’t in bed. Daniel sat up and ran his hand across the sheet to find it cool. She hadn’t been there for awhile and he wondered if she’d ever been. Uncertain of the time he peered at the digital clock. At two o’clock in the morning nothing but darkness showed beyond the curtains. He groped for his pants before he realized he still wore them. Daniel moved with stealth through the dark house, past Nia asleep on the couch in a huddle beneath a blanket, and into the kitchen but he didn’t find Cecily. He stepped out into the backyard and stood still until his eyes adjusted to the night. Once they did, he saw her, a quilt wrapped around her shoulders, staring upward at the night sky.

  Ten thousand stars or more sparkled like glitter tossed carelessly across the heavens. Daniel crossed the space between them and put his arm around Cecily. “What’re you doing out here?” he asked.

  Without taking her gaze off the spectacular sky, she said, “I’m talking to the dead.”

  A shiver crept down his back. He’d grown up with a lot of old superstitions and his Abuela said such things with everyday aplomb and so did Mama but he hadn’t expected this from Cecily. “So what are they saying?”

  Her thick, warm laugh banished anything creepy. “Not much and not the way you probably think,” she said. “I’m no psychic or medium or anything although I get feelings once in a great while. I don’t see dead people but I’m just thinking about my mama and other people who’ve passed on, maybe asking for their help if they can offer me any.”

  The way she said it made it seem plausible, maybe even possible. “Then maybe they will,” he told her. His lips nuzzled her bare shoulder as the quilt slipped to reveal skin. “Did you sleep?”

  She shrugged. “A little, not much,” Cecily told him. “I know you did and you needed it. You okay now?”

  “I’m good,” he said. “Want to hit the road?”

  Surprise shifted her attention from the stars to him. “Now? Are you serious?”

  “Yeah,” he replied. “We can get your pay as you go phone anyway down the highway but the sooner we put miles between us and Tillman’s agents, the better.”

  “And whoever else might be after my ass,” Cecily added.

  “That too, chica.”

  Soon, they needed to brainstorm to come up with ideas of who might have engineered the murder, names, places, and things. We’ve got a damn lot of work to do and all I want to do is make love to her again, to stare at the stars and watch everything she does. I’d like to run my tongue deep into her pussy again and let her run those hands over every inch of my body.

  “It seems awfully early,” Cecily told him. “Maybe we should go back to bed.”

  Damn, she felt the sizzling attraction between them and temptation almost pulled him toward saying ‘yes’. But they couldn’t spare the time so he shook his head, “I’d like to, querida, but we really need to make tracks. Everything’s packed so let’s get going. We can be almost to the Missouri state line by dawn if we hurry up and go.”

  Cecily drew a breath so deep it must’ve come up from her toes and then exhaled it in a long sigh. “Okay, sugar,” she said. “If we have to do it, let’s just do it. Let me tell Nia bye and grab my purse.”

  All Daniel required was a shirt, his wallet and keys, and this time, his shoulder holster and weapon. He hadn’t worn it since coming to Branson, figuring Cecily, even before he knew her, didn’t present much of a threat. But he wore it now because he didn’t know what dangers they might face and traveling could present unexpected complications unrelated to any of their other issues. Give him a minute or two to piss and he’d be ready to get behind the wheel but Cecily took a little longer.

  He waited with hard won patience as she dressed, did her make-up and hair, gathered her purse and other belongings woke Nia, and indulged in a long farewell. At three fifteen, they headed out the front door toward the truck but Cecily paused and looked back at the house. He didn’t think she’d lived there long enough to feel nostalgic about it but he said, “You aren’t going to miss the place, are you?”

  She offered him a watery smile. “Yeah, I guess I am. Its felt more like home since you’ve been around than the house on Canal Street ever did.”

  “We’ll be back,” he said, hoping he could deliver on the promise. Then Daniel realized he’d said “we” and decided he meant it. If not here, somewhere, he planned to be together with Cecily.

  A brighter smile pleased him. “I hope so, sugar,” she said. “Let’s go. I’m ready to get out of here.”

  So was Daniel but they had a few details to handle first. “I am too but we need to fuel the truck and get you a pay as you go phone. Plus, I need coffee.”

  “You should have said something, sugar,” Cecily said as she climbed into the passenger seat. “I would’ve made some.”

  And we’d been here till dawn because she’d have made breakfast too. “I know but we can grab some somewhere.”

  Or so he thought but it turned out places to buy a cup of coffee before three thirty in the morning were rare in Branson. Once Daniel figured it out, he decided to head onto Springfield. In the larger city, he found a 24 hour McDonald’s and bought a pair of large coffees, then headed for the closest Wal-Mart Super Center where he bought her a phone. “Anything else?” he asked her as they headed for the check-outs in the almost empty store.

  “I can’t think of anything,” Cecily said.

  “If you need to use the bathroom, go ahead,” he told her. “We’ll stop for breakfast in Joplin or somewhere.”

  Once back in the truck, he headed out Sunshine until it became Highway 60 then picked up the James River Freeway to head north to I-44. Daniel hit the interstate and brought the speed of the old truck up to the limit. The motor hummed along without a hitch and they headed west. He drank the remainder of his coffee and tossed the cup to the floorboard. Cecily nursed hers, he noticed, and yawned. “You can snatch some sleep if you want,” he told her.

  “I doubt I can,” she said as she drained her cup. “I’m tired, though.”

  Before they reached Mount Vernon, however, she’d scooted across the seat and put her head against his shoulder. Daniel resisted the urge to remove one hand from the wheel so he could put an arm a
round her but he liked her body against his. When she shut her eyes, he knew she’d be out in no time and within a few miles, her breathing shifted into a deeper, easy pattern. In the dim light of the dash he could just make out her features but he noticed how peaceful her expression became while she slept.

  He turned the radio on soft and low for company. With the original factory installed AM radio, he couldn’t tune in anything but country music but he fiddled with the buttons until he had a station playing traditional tunes. Although most of the songs weren’t ranked among his favorites most were tolerable. Somewhere along the way as the steel-belted radial tires sang over the pavement and he passed every eighteen wheeler in sight the voice of Elvis Presley poured from the speakers in a love song so old his grandmother counted it among the favorites from her youth, Love Me Tender.

  Although Daniel’d heard it many times, he listened to the lyrics and understood them now when he hadn’t before. He glanced down at the sleeping woman curled against him and a single stray tear slid down his cheek. Yeah, he loved her and he believed now she loved him too.

  If they could just find their way to the future, they might have something worth keeping. As he drove west, he’d never been more aware how the first rays of dawn lit the sky in the east behind him or that where he headed, there seemed nothing but darkness.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sandwiched into the booth Cecily sipped her second cup of lousy coffee and tried to focus. She’d awakened thick-headed and dry-mouthed when Daniel wheeled into a chain restaurant just off the interstate in Joplin. Sleep still fogged her senses but the enticing aromas of frying bacon and sausage roused her appetite. Her eyes locked with his over her mug and he smiled. “You look like you’re finally awake,” he said. “It’s about time.”

  “I’m trying,” she said. “I guess I slept hard. So this is Joplin?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I guess you’ve never been here before.”