“Mom. Stop singing for a sec. When’s Dad coming home?”
Elaine swiveled her head like a ventriloquist’s dummy. “What?”
“When’s Dad coming home?” Josie tried to keep her patience.
“Few days, that fucking bastard.”
“Wow. I’ve never heard you say anything like that before,” Josie said. She snuck a glance at her mom, who was looking straight forward with a sort of drunken determination. “I’ve always thought he was one,” Josie continued. “But, Mom, if you’ve always thought he’s a bastard, which he totally is, why have you stayed married to him?”
She glanced to her side again and saw her mother had passed out cold. Josie had to use a fireman’s carry to get her from the garage to the house, thankful it was on a back alley so the spectacle wasn’t on view to the neighbors. They were a gossipy bunch. She put her mother down gently and opened the side door. She had to drag Elaine up five stairs to the main level and onto a sofa in the living room. Then she went up and got a nightgown and slippers, as well as wet and dry towels. She somehow got the ruined suit off, wiped away most of the grunge, and pulled a nightgown on her. Bathing her naked mother seemed reasonable punishment for every last bad thing Josie had ever done. She was sweating by the time she was through, while her mom remained entirely oblivious. She got a beer from the fridge downstairs and settled into the La-Z-Boy next to her mother. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Twenty-two
Lauren left the office and ran into David Schofeld in the building’s plaza.
“Lauren,” he said, drawing up beside her. “Can I walk with you to the garage? There’s something I want to tell you.”
That couldn’t be good news. She sighed and looked up at David. He bent down so he could be close enough to converse quietly. He looked like a very tall Scrooge.
“What is it?” Lauren sighed.
“Earlier today when I said I’d seen Tim in the building, I didn’t tell you everything, mostly because Eva was in the room.”
“Oh, God. Please don’t tell me he abused any of those women.”
“No, no. Nothing like that. I suppose it was me he abused. But I’m not saying that as a complaint in any way. I thought you should know.”
Lauren kept her face very still. If Tim did anything to drive David away, she might not be able to keep it together any longer. “What did he do?”
“When I saw him in Marketing it looked like he was leading a group of women out the door, probably on their way to lunch. But then he saw me and motioned me over. The others went on without him. Tim led me to the corridor to the men’s room. I was worried what he was going to say; I didn’t expect anything pleasant. What I didn’t anticipate was him turning around and slamming his fist in my belly.”
“Jesus!” Lauren said. “Are you okay?”
“I was stunned, of course, but not hurt. He was incredibly fast. When I didn’t go down from the punch, he looked surprised, so I took advantage of that and got him in a headlock. I’m bigger than him, you know. I asked him why he attacked me and he wouldn’t say. He kept demanding to let him go or there’d be trouble for me.”
“Did you let him go then?” Lauren said, concerned and angry at the same time.
“Yes,” David said. “by then I was worried someone might see us, so I pushed him away from me. I don’t like being threatened. No one does.”
“Well, I’m not surprised you took the high road, though I wish you’d beaten the crap out of him. God knows he deserves it.” Lauren took hold of David’s arm. “I want you to know there is no way he has any authority to threaten your job with Wade-Fellowes.”
“I can’t figure out why he’d come after me,” David said. “I didn’t particularly like working for him, but I did what I was told. There’s no reason for him to be upset with me. It’s been months since he left the company,” David said.
“Since I fired him, you mean.”
Lauren decided not to get into the complicated psychology of her brother. Tim was pissed at David because he was a much better operations manager than he was. he didn’t like being shown up.
“Thanks for letting me know, David. I’ll make sure he doesn’t come to the office again. You could press charges, you know.”
“Nope. Too much hassle. And my job keeps me awfully busy.”
He smiled down at her and they parted at the garage. Lauren was furious, and incredibly frustrated to have no outlet for it. This latest news confirmed for her Tim was losing it. There had to be a way to get out from under his hold on her. She hadn’t been successful in any of her prior attempts. After breathing deeply for a few minutes and contemplating her limited options, she gave Cory a call from her car. There were the same bar noises in the background that were there every time Cory answered her phone. This would have given Lauren pause were she considering a relationship with Cory. But she was not. They had a “sex buddy” understanding. Having never had such a thing before, Lauren thought it an excellent arrangement. What it lacked in sincerity it more than made up for with incredibly good sex.
“Hey there!” Cory said, her voice unnecessarily loud, even with the bar noise in the background. So, she’d already had a few. Lauren wasn’t interested in having sex with a drunk. “Am I being summoned to come service you?”
“Nothing of the sort. It sounds like you need to get a cab home and climb into bed.”
“No way. I was about to get into a fight with someone for inpruning your honor,” Cory said proudly.
“Impugning,” Lauren said, automatically. She was an editor, after all.
“Right. Anyway, your call just saved this guy a broken nose.”
Lauren imagined it was Tim at Tillie’s, dressed in his “gay clothes,” trying to stir the pot.
“Tell me what’s going on.” she said.
“There’s a guy sitting at the bar telling everyone he has proof you really were the one that killed Kelly.” Cory sounded a little more indignant and a little less drunk.
“You don’t believe him, do you?” Lauren asked coolly.
“Hell no, I don’t believe him. I asked him what proof he supposedly has and he said, get this, he’s your brother and knows things the police couldn’t possibly have known. When he wouldn’t say what they were, people started ignoring him, but I was going to grab him by the collar and punch the daylights out of him. What kind of brother does that?”
Lauren smiled at the idea of Cory physically intimidating Tim. It would have been horrifying for him to be punched by a woman, and Lauren didn’t doubt Cory could do it. That woman was built. Humiliation, though, was a real trigger for Tim. It would end in some backlash against Cory, which she didn’t want.
“Thank you for being my hero, but it’s best if you leave it be. Why don’t you come over. I’ll make you some coffee. But take a cab, for God’s sake.”
“I’ll be there.” Cory laughed. “But I don’t promise to behave myself.”
By the time Cory arrived, Lauren had showered, slid between the sheets of her bed with her iPad, and made a few moves on Scrabble. It kept her mind quiet and focused for the few minutes a day she allowed herself to play. She’d swept her room for bugs and removed one camera in the bedside table. It was all so ridiculous. Tim put them up, she took them down. Their technologies canceled each other out. When the doorbell rang she slipped on a robe and let Cory in, locking the door behind her but knowing that Tim could get in if he wanted to. She didn’t care. If he crept in and saw her making love with Cory, it would irritate him more than her. He wanted her worried every second of every day. She was growing not only tired of it, but less terrified as well. Trying to keep the company thriving and her parents alive was too much.
Cory was a little tipsy, but not distractingly so. Enough for her to take firm control of the situation. She undid the tie of Lauren’s robe and slipped her arms inside. “Tonight, Ms. Boss Lady, you’re not going to tell me what to do to you. In fact, you’re not going to say a thing.” Cory put her fing
er on Lauren’s lips. “You’re going to be absolutely quiet until I tell you when you can make noise. Do you understand?”
Lauren nodded as a flash of desire rippled through her at the thought of submitting to this unexpected side of Cory. Submit was not a word usually in her vocabulary. Nor was failed, lost, conceded, humbled. At least not until recently. But her arousal grew as Cory pushed her on the bed, raised her knees in the air, and pulled her legs apart, exposing her in a way she’d never been before. She could feel how wet she already was, and Cory wasn’t in a teasing mood. She lowered her head to Lauren and used her tongue to make her come in what seemed like a second and a half. Cory flipped her over and arranged her on all fours, spreading her legs once again and entering her from behind, driving into her with two, then three fingers as her other hand snaked around the front and touched her. Lauren cried out in a series of orgasms that were anything but quiet. She slowly came to her senses and turned her head to look back at Cory, smiling wanly.
“I wouldn’t feel too smug, my plaything,” Cory said. “There’s some answering you need to do for not obeying me.”
“What?” Lauren looked perplexed.
“I told you to not make any noise until I said you could.” Cory stayed behind her.
“That was serious?” Lauren laughed. “You’d have to be dead to not scream during that. Weren’t we here in the same room?”
Cory raised her hand over Lauren’s ass. “Still, you must answer.”
Lauren smiled as she watched Cory’s serious face. “I’m afraid you’ve confused me with some other girlfriend.”
“Does that mean no?”
“It means spank me once and you’ll regret it,” Lauren said teasingly.
“Somehow that doesn’t worry me very much. But no is no.” Cory lay down and pulled Lauren to her, holding her tight as they fell asleep. Lauren still had a smile on her face.
*
Josie was bored to distraction. No amount of pacing, cleaning, organizing, or reading could keep her still. She was fairly certain at this point, four hours after being bailed out of jail, her mother wasn’t going to aspirate her own vomit and die. In fact, she was sprawled on the sofa in such a way her head hung over the side, face down, as if knowing a bucket was there waiting for her. Still, Josie didn’t dare leave the house.
Her father wasn’t due back from his fishing trip until Sunday night. The fishing trip, as she learned growing up, involved no bait, no boats, no fish. It was a retreat for some of the detectives her dad worked with. They rented a cabin in Wisconsin for a week, spent their days drinking beer, target shooting, bullshitting, generally acting like fifteen-year-old boys. They’d venture to the nearest roadhouse to drink in a more social setting and try to pick up women. Part of the joy of the trip for her dad was he simply would not answer his phone, so Josie didn’t even try to let him know his wife had just been arrested.
She’d been looking forward to her date with Lucy the next night and thought of calling her to see if they could move it up a day. Lucy could hang out with her and her drunken mother. That probably wouldn’t increase her chances of successfully seducing Lucy, but maybe her dating code allowed for sex on the third date and Josie wouldn’t have to cajole her. Lately she’d noticed her libido making a startling comeback. The meds she was on were libido killers. The fact she’d missed a dose here and there over the past several days was surely not enough for this sort of rebound. It must be Lucy. She picked up her phone and called her.
“Hey there,” Josie said.
“Hi!” Lucy sounded surprised to hear from her.
“I’m wondering if you can help me out.” She proceeded to tell Lucy what happened and that she could really use the company during her vigil over her mother.
“I’m on my way,” Lucy said.
She got there in forty-five minutes, looking freshly scrubbed. Her red hair was loose, the curls reaching up like growing flowers. Josie thought she was amazingly cute, but curiously her desire for her didn’t take a jump up upon seeing her. It simply stayed at attention. With the living room occupied by her mother and the basement reeking of her father, she led Lucy upstairs to her old room. “I’m sorry at how this looks,” she said. “There isn’t anywhere else to hang out except the kitchen.”
Lucy looked thoughtful, as if weighing the options. “No, this is good. I want to see the room you grew up in.” They went into the middle room in the hallway, still painted the same awful dusty rose color she’d grown up with. It looked like every kid’s room—the single bed along one side, the study desk on the other, a few shelves hung to display trophies or cherished objects, neither of which Josie seemed to have. A small bookshelf was stuffed with the kinds of novels you read in English lit in high school and college—from Silas Marner to Jude the Obscure.
“Were you a lit major in college?” Lucy asked.
“Criminal justice. But I liked the lit classes. I figured I’d read anyway, so why not major in something more practical?”
“Hmm,” Lucy said. “There’re many layers to Josie Harper, mad seducer of women and lover of Victorian literature.”
Josie shrugged.
Lucy went to sit on the twin bed and patted the space by her side for Josie to join her. “Why do you seem so nervous, Josie? Certainly having a woman in your bedroom can’t be a strange feeling to you.” The teasing was apparent in her voice.
“Well, I usually don’t have my mother passed out downstairs. She could wake up at any time.”
“Do you really think so?” Lucy said.
“No, I guess not. She was really hammered, more than I’ve ever seen. She’ll be out until morning.”
They sat on the narrow bed, slightly angled toward each other, the awkwardness hanging in the air like the fug of cigar smoke. Josie couldn’t look at Lucy.
“Josie, are you wondering if it’s okay to make love? Because I would really like to.”
“You would?” Josie knew she wanted to have sex, but she was unused to navigating these new rules of courtship. She didn’t want to come off as a cad, as the person she was before she got well. But in truth she felt a little like that earlier version of herself, only tamer. If Lucy weren’t so adamant about how she wanted to be courted, Josie would have her clothes off by now.
Lucy leaned over and very softly pressed her lips to Josie’s. They’d been down this path already and she let Lucy set the pace. And the pace was slow. She kissed Josie for what seemed an eternity before she pulled back and looked Josie in the eye.
“I love kissing you. You’re really good at it.” Josie thought that had been adequately demonstrated on their second date and moved to pull her T-shirt over her head. Lucy’s hand stopped her. “Let me undress you. Please?”
She seemed to be treating Josie like she was a virgin. She drew a deep breath and sought patience, never a strong suit of hers. Lucy stood and brought Josie up with her, and then proceeded to remove every piece of her clothing with what seemed excruciating slowness. By the time Lucy was removing Josie’s underwear, she wasn’t so much aroused as agitated. She made quick work of removing Lucy’s clothes and lowered her to the bed, ready to kiss her way down Lucy’s body, which was luscious, much curvier than Josie’s, exactly the way she liked it. She was feeling desire again as she trailed Lucy’s throat with her tongue, softly nipping at her neck. It felt natural and good and headed in the right direction. Josie made progress down Lucy’s neck and was going for her breast when Lucy’s hand cupped her chin and looked into her eyes. “Kiss me again, Josie. I want this to last.”
Josie thought the Battle of Gettysburg must have felt shorter than this lovemaking with Lucy. She dutifully kissed her, deeply and as soulfully as she could, moving her hand up to cup Lucy’s breast, tracing her nipple and moving over to the other. She heard a slight whimper, which was like the first notes from an orchestra pit. Time to get on with the show. But still Lucy would not let go of her lips until Josie feigned breathlessness and broke away.
“I need you
now, Lucy. No more teasing.” Lucy looked perplexed but lay back at the pleading look in Josie’s eyes. The whimpers came more frequently now, but never louder, as Josie did what she knew how to do so well—make a woman come with a shuddering orgasm. Lucy shuddered, but she was so damn quiet. Josie wondered if she’d attended a convent school or something, learning to masturbate as quietly as possible and never losing the habit of muteness. She put “make Lucy scream” on her list of things to do.
Lucy then turned the tables and made love to Josie, who had the same problem she always had when women made love to her. She felt disassociated, not present, and often not able to orgasm. But she made a hell of a lot more noise than Lucy when she finally came. Lucy looked very satisfied and curled up in Josie’s arms.
“That was amazing,” Lucy said.
“Yeah.” Josie could think of no words beyond that. She cared about Lucy. Wanted her. Why did making love with her feel so…boring? If this was what sex was like when she wasn’t manic, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go on living. Her mind wandered back to her investigation and the upcoming interview with Lauren Wade. Her work, at least, made her feel alive and energetic. She sighed as she pulled Lucy closer to her. She had no answers.
Chapter Twenty-three
Wednesday, September 11
When Josie entered Lauren’s outer office the following morning, she was greeted with a sour expression from Eva, the protective assistant.
“Are you the private investigator?” Eva said, having reluctantly looked up from her computer screen.
Josie was dressed in her best jeans and blazer, her button-down shirt fresh from the cleaners, her hair under control from the right amount of product. She felt nervous but confident, and not inclined to be treated poorly, especially after her late night. Lucy reluctantly left at one in the morning, Josie insisting it wasn’t worth the confusion it would cause Josie’s hungover mother if Lucy was there in the morning. Josie didn’t fall asleep for hours after, nervous about her interview with Lauren, her thoughts racing with different analyses of what was going on with Lucy, puzzling over the origins of the universe, coveting the new model Dodge she’d love to buy and thinking about what a dick her father was. Now she was operating on two hours of sleep, but felt as fresh as if she’d had a full night’s rest.
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