I pawed through my purse and found my keys in record time. The Magic School Bus was about 30 feet off to our right. Veronica was in heels. As much as I wanted to, we couldn’t leave her behind. She started to totter in the correct direction, but was slipping and sliding all over the gravel in her haste. She spoke sharply in Spanish, what I could only assume was a swear word, when James swept her up, tossed her over his shoulder, and began an arm-pumping race to the Suburban. Mika reached for my hand, pulled me in front of him, and we followed in hot pursuit. I saw bright lights out of the corners of my eyes as camera bulbs flashed, trying to attain a decent shot. About five feet from the car, I slipped. I’d just corrected myself, when my foot landed at an odd angle and I slipped again.
“Jesus, Moyer,” James called back to me, cracking a smile. “Don’t you do yoga? Isn’t that supposed to improve your balance?”
“It’s supposed to improve my flexibility, too, but I haven’t seen the fruits of that labor,” I snarled, as Mika wrapped an arm around my waist and gently propelled me forward.
“I beg to differ,” he whispered huskily in my ear. Momentarily flustered, I forgot how to work my own key. Mika took it from my shaking hands, pressed a button on the fob and, over the crunch of footsteps and questions being screamed in our direction, I heard the doors unlock. Mika opened the driver side door and hoisted me inside, where I scurried over to the passenger seat, swiftly buckling myself in. James had opened a rear passenger door and plopped Veronica into a seat, before racing around to the other side and letting himself in. Mika already had the engine revved to life as James began closing his door. The rusty Suburban coughed and choked before finally squealing away, leaving only a cloud of dust behind.
“You sure know how to make an exit,” Veronica commented, holding onto the back of a headrest for dear life as we wove our way down the street.
“I think yours takes first place, Princess,” James teased her with a smile.
When we’d gotten a safe distance from the studio, Mika reached out and put a hand on my knee. “Rory and Carly are headed to your place?”
I shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.” A yawn escaped my lips and I felt myself stretch, straining against my seatbelt.
“It’s been a rough day,” James admitted. “I think it’s time to get back to Marian’s either way and let these ladies get some rest.”
“No, no. I have to be on watch,” I protested.
“We’ll keep watch, Sugar,” Mika promised, squeezing my knee. “James and Rory and I can even take shifts.”
“What if I can’t sleep?”
Mika grinned and I felt my heart flutter. “Somehow, I don’t see that being an issue.”
Near my apartment, Mika slowed the Suburban to a crawl. The SUV really did need a new muffler and keeping quiet wasn’t exactly in its repertoire. While sneaking up on awaiting media would be impossible, we could at least stay a safe distance away. When the front door came into view, Mika slammed his foot on the brake, causing James, who hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt, to smack his head into the back of the headrest. “Son of a-” he started to say, lifting a hand to meet his forehead.
“Backup plan,” Mika cut him off, turning to look at me. “What’s the backup plan?”
I shrugged. “It’s through the front or up the fire escape. I left my windows unlocked so we should be able to get in.”
Mika looked perplexed. “You left your windows unlocked?”
“It was before I knew that I’d be housing the girlfriend of a mentally unstable killer,” I cried.
“Ex,” Veronica corrected from the back. “I’m his ex-girlfriend.”
“Either way, maybe Mika and I should go check the place out before you go in. Just to make sure it’s safe,” James supplied, rubbing his forehead.
Just then, my phone began to ring. I leaned forward and picked my purse up off the floor of the car and began to dig around. Finally locating the cell, I answered quickly, halfway through its final ring. I know the sixth ring is final, because that’s usually right about the time I manage to retrieve my phone from wherever I’ve left it. I’ve become very good at counting to six. “Hello?” I answered quickly, hoping I wasn’t too late.
“Are you guys coming?” It was Carly, sounding playfully irritated. “We’ve only been waiting forever.”
I furrowed my brow and looked at all the cars parked along the street and in the building lot. No Audi. “Where are you?” I asked confused.
“We’re inside your apartment.”
“What? How?”
“Magic.”
“No, really.”
“We parked about three blocks over and hoofed it up the fire escape. You left your windows unlocked, you know. You really shouldn’t-”
“I know,” I sighed.
“We’ve checked it over. No bad guys up here! See you in a few minutes. I’ll send Rory out.” She hung up.
With a heavy breath, I turned to Mika. “You should probably just let us out here. Carly is already upstairs and Rory is on his way down.” I turned and pointed to a mom-and-pop coffee shop that was situated on a corner of the block behind us. They seemed to still be open. “Go grab something to give you a little boost.” I flipped open the armrest and pulled out some cash. “On me. Get Rory something, too. Not tea. He hates tea from coffee shops.”
“He is British,” James said with a smile.
I chuckled. “I’ll tell him to meet you over there.”
As Mika pulled the Suburban over to the curb, Veronica and I both stepped out and waved them off as they zipped to the end of the block, turned right, and made their way to the backside of the coffee shop. Veronica took a few steps, paused, put a hand on my shoulder for balance, and tugged off her heels. “Better,” she moaned, stretching and cracking her toes with great flourish.
“You’re enjoying that a little too much,” I muttered, sliding past her and making my way towards the backside of my apartment building.
Veronica hurried to catch up. “What’s wrong with experiencing a little pleasure?”
I blushed. “Nothing! I just don’t think talking about it needs to happen in the middle of the darkening sidewalk.”
Veronica stopped and placed a hand on her hip. “You’re saying other people can’t appreciate when you…what’s the word? When you pleasure yourself?”
A middle-aged couple that were holding hands walked by just then. The woman’s face wrinkled in disdain while the husband seemed to grasp his wife’s hand a bit tighter and tug her along past us.
“Oh my God,” I hissed, watching them hurry away. “That’s NOT how you say it. Pleasuring yourself is when you-” I blushed harder and refused to say the word aloud.
Veronica looked around. “What?” she asked loudly.
“You know,” I said, making a hugely inappropriate gesture with my hand.
“Masturbate,” Veronica said proudly.
“Okay,” I said lowering my gaze and returning to my walk. “This really isn’t the right place to be talking about that. There are people out here. Plus, that’s not even where I imagined this conversation was going when I told you that you enjoyed cracking your toes too much. I didn’t even imagine this conversation at all! So.”
“You Midwestern women and your denial for anything pleasurable,” she chided, catching up to me quickly and bumping against my hip. “You can’t tell me that you know nothing of it. That Mika is sexy.”
“He is,” I agreed, continuing to walk and look ahead.
“And you’ve done things.”
I sucked in a breath. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“Lighten up, Marian, it’s just a conversation.”
“I don’t know you.”
“All the more reason to be totally crazy. We’ll probably never see each other again after this. Tell me. What do you want to say? What do you want me to know? What gives you pleasure?”
I decided it couldn’t hurt to indulge her a little bit. After all,
my personal life was pretty smoking these days. Besides, she was right — I’d probably never see her again. What was the harm in being honest? “Sex,” I said quietly.
“What was that?”
“Sex,” I answered with more conviction.
“That’s it, now just scream it!”
“I love sex!” I cried, raising my fists in the air like a boxing champion.
“Well,” Rory said, coming to a stop in front of us. I hadn’t even noticed that he was approaching. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his too-large glasses falling off his nose and slightly crooked, and his pants were tugged a bit too low on his waist, but still far too short for his legs. “I think that a lot of people do, but I don’t know that this is really the right place to be discussing it.”
Veronica giggled behind her hand and winked at me as she passed Rory. Looking both ways, she stepped into the street and began crossing to the other side. “I’ve gotta go,” I told Rory quickly, walking after her. “James and Mika are in the coffee shop on the corner. I told them to get you a drink on me.”
“As long as it’s not tea,” he called after me.
“I warned them,” I assured him, waving in the approaching night.
Veronica and I both managed to successfully navigate the fire escape without alerting any of the media that was waiting by the front entrance. Inside my apartment, Carly had made herself at home. Her legs were kicked up on the cheap ottoman I’d found at a thrift store, her blouse was fully unbuttoned, revealing a purple, ribbed tank, and she was throwing cheesy puffs into the air and catching them in her mouth. Occasionally, she’d wipe the cheesy residue from her fingers onto her navy pants, which were perfectly neat and creaseless otherwise. “Which one of you was yelling about sex?” she asked as I closed and locked the window behind us. The lock snapped with a satisfying click.
“You heard that?” I asked, turning around.
“I think half of Milwaukee heard it,” she joked, tossing another cheese puff into the air. Leaning far to the right, she managed to catch it before it fell to the floor. “What was that all about?”
“We were talking about pleasuring ourselves,” Veronica said proudly.
Carly’s eyes grew wide and she began to choke on her cheese puff. I sprang forward and began to pat her back. “That’s not what we were talking about,” I corrected Veronica. “You need to stop saying that. It doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
“What were you-” Carly began.
“We were talking about life’s pleasures,” I interrupted, as Carly reached for a large glass of water next to the sofa and took several grateful sips. “Veronica already had me thinking in terms of the dirtier side of life and I didn’t see anything wrong with admitting that sex with Mika is-”
“Mind-blowing?” Carly asked.
“So hot,” I agreed.
Veronica shook her head and said something in Spanish before turning away from us and walking towards the kitchen. “You got anything to drink in here?” she called.
Carly and I glanced at each other and shrugged. With that, Carly resumed throwing cheesy puffs into the air while I walked towards the kitchen and prepared to play hostess.
A few hours later, I’d fielded three calls from Mika, one from James, one from Corbin and one from my mother. Corbin had filled Addison in on everything he knew and she was eager for morning, when we could work on getting her sprung from jail. “She said to tell you that she’s on a hunger strike,” Corbin said just before we hung up.
“A what?” I asked. “That girl will eat anything.”
“Said she found mold in the applesauce.”
“Oh my God. We have to get her out.”
“We will. Get some rest, Moyer. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
My mother, of course, was wondering why Addie was still locked up. “She didn’t do it,” she kept insisting.
“I know she didn’t do it, Ma,” I insisted. “Trust me, we’ll get her out soon.”
There was a pause. “You going to tell me what you know? I know you know something that I don’t know.”
“You’re getting yourself worked up-”
“Marian,” she warned.
I sighed. “Can we talk about this tomorrow? It’s late and my brain isn’t really working.”
“I’m calling you first thing,” she insisted.
“I don’t doubt it,” I muttered as we hung up. “Doesn’t mean I’ll have more news for you, though.” I smiled as I dropped my phone to the couch cushion. I love that woman with my whole heart.
Carly, Veronica and I had successfully made our way through three chick flicks, four bottles of wine and a pile of cheese puffs and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Carly was now snoring away, her head resting in my lap, as Veronica watched a late night soap opera in Spanish, small tears clinging to the corners of her eyes. I sighed and checked the small clock that hung above Fred’s fish tank. It was well after two in the morning.
I gently lifted Carly’s head from my lap, carefully stood, and then laid her head back on the couch. Reaching for a soft, puffy blanket, I used it to cover her small frame, tucking her in around the knees and shoulders. She stirred but never opened her eyes. Veronica, who had been sitting on the floor, turned to look at me. “Where are you going?”
“Bed,” I answered with a yawn, as I picked up the bag of cheese puffs and an empty bottle of wine. I carried them into the kitchen and then turned to study Veronica, who was looking at me in an expectant manner. “What?” I asked.
“Do you expect me to just sleep on the floor?” she hissed, gesturing to the wooden boards. While not exceedingly dusty, it was obvious that I hadn’t bothered to clean the apartment in a while.
“I have a sleeping bag,” I insisted, starting to make my way towards the hall closet. Veronica gasped and clutched at her neck dramatically, her eyes wide with the fear of roughing it for a single night. “Or,” I sighed, stopping and letting my head roll forward so that my gaze scanned the floor, “you can just sleep in my bed.” Veronica started to say something, but I cut her off with a sharp, “alone.” She looked pleased and began to stand, but I held up a hand to stop her. “Just wait here,” I said, thinking of my last trysts in those sheets. It had only been a few days ago, but the memories I had of Mika and I were fresh in my memory. I shuddered in pleasure, a grin playing across my lips. “I need to go change the sheets.”
As I walked down the short hallway towards my bedroom, I paused at the linen closet. The only sheets that I had clean at the moment were an ugly set of lime green scratchy things I’d gotten on the cheap at the local department store. I sighed as I pulled them from their shelf. Veronica would probably complain but I really didn’t care. She had a bed.
Making my way into the bedroom, I dropped the clean sheets on top of my dresser. A thought occurred to me and I opened up the drawer that contained my socks. Pulling out a long, fuzzy pink one, I flipped it over and allowed my gun to spill out. Carly had loaded it earlier that evening, making it all the heavier. Mika had insisted she do so on one of our calls earlier. “We just want you to have it ready, should you need it tonight, Em,” she’d said as she clicked the barrel closed and aimed it at the wall, firing off a pretend shot.
I picked up the gun and turned it over in my hands. My finger ran over the safety, though I didn’t remove it. Eventually I sighed, dropped the gun back into the sock drawer, turned and went to strip the bed.
As I was placing the final touches on folding down the blankets just so, Veronica stepped through the door. “Aren’t you finished yet?” she whined.
“Just now,” I assured her, stepping away to survey my work. Veronica began to unzip herself, shimmying out of the work attire she’d been wrapped in since we first met face-to-face. “Do you want some pajamas?” I asked, hurrying to my dresser and trying to find something that would fit over her bountiful assets.
“I never wear clothes to bed,” she informed me.
I turned, just in ti
me to see her slide her naked, voluptuous, olive-toned body between the sheets. Those sheets would need to be burned tomorrow, because there was no way I’d ever sleep in them again.
Turning, I slid the middle dresser drawer containing pajamas closed. “Okay,” I muttered. I let my gaze fall upon the gun, still sitting exposed in my sock drawer situated at the top of the dresser. I allowed myself to debate bringing it along for a few moments before I finally grabbed it, slid the drawer shut and walked towards the door. “Goodnight, then,” I added, shutting off the overhead light. There was no response.
Back in the linen closet in the hallway, I was struggling to pull my sleeping bag from the top shelf with one hand. I’d turned off the overhead light in the hall as I exited the bedroom, leaving only the television and a small nightlight near the bathroom door aglow. Frustrated, I set my gun down on one of the shelves and tugged the sleeping bag with both hands. It slid free easily and I toppled backwards, slamming into the wall.
I heard a low chuckle coming from the living room. For a moment I thought that Carly had awoken or perhaps that Mika had snuck in to say goodnight. But as I turned to look, my eyes adjusting to the eerie glow of the television against the darkness, I saw a man I didn’t recognize sitting on the couch, gently stroking Carly’s hair back from her terrified face.
Carly’s mouth had been taped shut, her ankles and wrists hog-tied. It didn’t seem like Veronica and I had been away long enough to let this happen but, somehow, apparently we had. “Marian?” the man asked. His voice was lower than I’d expected and not entirely unkind, though it did have an edge to it. I shuddered.
Alllison Janda - Marian Moyer 03 - Scandal, Temptation & a Taste of Flan Page 17
