“Are you taking me home?”
“Um, no.”
I sensed immediately that this was a subject she had been deliberately avoiding. “I’ve been gone a long time, Lisa. I’ve got a million things to do.”
“Yes, but… not there.”
I laid my hand on her shoulder. “What gives? Tell me the truth.”
“The truth is…” I could tell this was agonizing for her, which didn’t make me any less insistent. “You don’t have a house anymore.”
“The goddamn bank.”
“Yeah. ’Fraid so.”
“I’m in the hospital for one lousy week and they take the house?”
“They told me you hadn’t made a payment for four months.”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind, as you well know.”
“They said they’ve called and written and left messages but never heard anything from you.”
“I don’t recall any messages.”
“And then when they found out you were in detox and no one knew when you might get out, that was it. They foreclosed.”
“Can they do that? So fast?”
“Evidently.”
“Greedy bastards. What do I have to do to get it back?”
The beautiful blond speed demon became a timid little girl. “I… I don’t think you do, Susan. It’s gone.”
“Goddamn it.” I slapped my hand down on the dash. “Goddamn it.”
“I boxed up all your stuff and put it-”
“I don’t care about that,” I snapped. “Where’s Rachel?”
Lisa’s respiration accelerated. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. All bad signs. “Oh, Susan, I’m so sorry.”
“Where is she?”
Her forehead creased. “They’ve put her in a foster home, sweetie.”
“Who did?”
“The state. NDHS. Human Services.”
“I’m sick for one week and they confiscate my niece?”
“Susan, think. You never formally adopted her. She was just living with you, and that was okay for a while. But after… you know… what happened…”
“They had no right. None.”
“They say you can visit. I mean, you can’t take her away or anything, but-”
“I’m her family! I’m the only family she has!”
“I know. I told them. I offered to let her stay with me till you were released. I tried everything I could think of-”
“Apparently you didn’t try hard enough.”
“Hey, don’t kill the messenger, okay?” For the first time, Lisa’s voice rose. “You’re not the only one who’s had a shitty week, you know? I’ve been under continuous fire, trying to straighten out your-”
She stopped just short, for which I will always love her.
“They had no right to take my niece away.”
Still driving, Lisa reached across and squeezed my hand. “Honey, you’re an alcoholic-”
“I am not.”
“-and there’s no way the state is going to let a fifteen-year-old girl stay with a noncustodial nonparent alcoholic with proven violent tendencies.”
“I’ve never hurt Rachel. I would never hurt her.”
“I know, Susan. But you practically killed that chump at the bar, and endangered everyone there, and that’s all they’re seeing.”
“Goddamn it!” I pounded the dash over and over again, which I’m sure Lisa did not appreciate, but she didn’t say anything. “Goddamn them all to hell.”
Showing her usual perspicacity, she let me stew for a while and didn’t speak again until it was necessary. “We’re almost to my place, Susan. Come in with me. I’ll start a fire. You can put on some woolly pajamas and I’ll brew some tea and you can just chill for a while, okay?”
“No. Take me to the office.”
“Susan-”
“It’s no good, Lisa. You know I can’t tolerate just sitting around, and I would hate being coddled even worse. The best thing for me to do is get back to my job and forget-”
She started to cry. This really bothered me because, for starters, Lisa is my friend, and furthermore, it seemed like if anyone should be crying it should be me-and I wasn’t, so what right did she have?
And I wondered what she could possibly be holding back that was worse than what she had already divulged.
“Susan… you don’t have a job anymore.”
No.
“Don’t blame Chief O’Bannon. It’s not his fault. IA was all over what happened, and that boy’s family is threatening to sue the department. O’Bannon had to do something.”
“So-so-” I was having trouble forming the words. “So-they suspended me?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“What? What?”
She pulled up to a light, then turned to face me. “They fired you, Susan.”
“No way. I’ll just talk to O’Bannon.”
“He didn’t want to do it. But he had no choice.”
“This can’t be right. It can’t be.”
“But there are lots of things a trained psychologist can do, Susan. It might be good for you to get away from police work, where there are so many… reminders. This could be a golden opportunity. Look on the bright side.”
Sure. Other than that, how did you like the parade, Mrs. Kennedy? “This isn’t right. It can’t be. I’m the best profiler O’Bannon has, and he knows it. I’m the one who solved the Wyndham killings. I’m the one who-”
“That was before,” Lisa said forcefully.
“Before this one stupid little incident?”
“Before you started drinking.” The word hit me like a brick. She continued to talk, but it rolled off me like water on a slick surface. There was a liquor store on the corner, and another on the corner after that. Liquor was everywhere. It was pervasive, and not just here in Sin City, either. I spotted an ad for some tarted-up booze, Chivas Regal or some other stuff I couldn’t afford. I remembered the smoky scent of a good scotch, the warm assurance as it glided down my throat.
“Lisa… could you stop the car?”
“You can’t drink, Susan. Not at all. Not even once.”
“I need… something. I can’t… everything… it’s all…”
“I’ll stay with you tonight.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I’m not asking-I’m telling. I’ll stay with you.”
“I’m not going to drink.”
“Then you won’t mind my being there.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I’ve heard the first night is the hardest. For people in your situation.”
So that’s what I’d become. A situation.
I closed my eyes and tried to conjure up the memory of David just as I’d seen him that morning, but it wouldn’t come. At best, I got a turbid glimmer, a toothy smile, a dimpled chin. Pieces of the whole.
It seemed I had nowhere to go and no one to see. Nothing to do. Nothing to live for.
The throbbing in my left wrist intensified. Beneath the bandage, it was sending me a message.
If ever there was a girl who deserved a drink, it was me.
He lifted his spade and began to dig. The soil was soft and loose, as he had known it would be. It was only about two feet deep, but that would be sufficient. It didn’t really need to be buried. It was the suggestion that was important. The re-creation of the sacred image.
Despite the simplicity of the task, he found himself tiring and perspiring. But this entire area was deserted and he knew it would remain so until six in the morning, so it didn’t matter how long he took. Just so the job was done right. According to plan.
He slowly lowered the long box off the dolly and into the freshly dug cavity. He lifted a spadeful of dirt and tossed it onto the box. The resultant clamor caught him by surprise.
Merciful Zeus. How could I be so forgetful? He leaned over the edge of the pit and lifted the half lid from the top section of the box.
Helen screamed.
He clamped his hand over her mouth. “My dear, I can’t allow you to make a commotion.”
She struggled to get free of his hand. She tried to bite him. She spit on him. Nothing worked.
“I’m going to release you in a moment. And when I do, I don’t want to hear any more screaming. You know, I could’ve deadened your entire body. And I still can, if need be. Do you comprehend what I’m saying?”
Slowly, he removed the hand from her mouth. She did not scream.
“Now that’s more like it.”
With the half lid open, she was visible from her bare shoulders up. “I couldn’t breathe in there, mister. I thought I was going to die.”
He made no comment.
“I could tell you were moving me, but I didn’t know where we were going. And then I heard that thumping on the lid and I didn’t know what was happening and I hate confined spaces and I panicked.”
“Of course you did. Entirely understandable.”
She craned her neck, trying to see something other than the walls of the box surrounding her, gazing straight up at the cobwebs and skeletons and white sheet ghosts. “What is this place?”
“A gallery. A tableau, if you will. To honor the prophet.”
“I don’t know what that means,” she said, choking. “I want to go home.”
“And you will, in a sense,” he said reassuringly. “To a far, far better home than any you have known before. Better than the one you kept sneaking away from.”
“How do you know that? Did Amber tell you?”
“You must pardon me, but I really don’t have time to continue this conversation.”
Her eyes were red and watery. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”
“Do you see a gun in my hand? Am I wielding a knife?”
“Answer me!”
“You have the potential to be reborn. To become something greater than you ever dreamed possible. To usher in a milestone in the evolution of mankind.”
“Please don’t kill me. I’m begging you! I’ll do anything. You want sex? I can give you sex. You want to put it in my mouth? I can do that. Hey, I’d like to do it. I’d enjoy it. Just give me a chance, mister.” She was babbling, rambling, desperate. “You’ve already hurt me so bad,” she cried, her voice breaking. “Please don’t kill me. Please let me go home.”
“I can’t,” he said gently. “I know this is difficult for you, but it is for your own good. I’m helping you.”
She stared at him, breathing in short, quick gasps. “Would you come closer, please? I’d like to whisper something to you. It’s a secret.”
He almost did it. But at the last moment, he stopped. “You were going to bite me.”
“I-I don’t know what you mean.”
“And you thought if I came close enough you could bite my nose, maybe even my eyeball?” He made a tsking sound. “I suppose anything is possible for a girl who would wear thong underwear.”
Her eyes closed. Her last hope was lost. There was nothing left now.
“This is a coffin, isn’t it?”
“ ‘I could no longer doubt that I reposed in a coffin at last.’ ” He caressed her smooth bald head. “Don’t focus on the here and now, my dear. The all-too-present present. Give your mind to the ineluctable truths of the cosmos. Cast your eyes to the stars!” He gestured heavenward, or ceilingward, like a master showman unveiling his main attraction. “There is so much more out there, so much more that we can become.”
A tiny light blazed one last time. “I think you’re a crazy man. I think you’re an impotent little-”
With a single smooth gesture, he flung the lid of the wooden coffin closed and locked it. “I daresay that’s enough of that,” he murmured quietly. “I detest vulgarity.”
He picked up the spade and continued shoveling dirt. It didn’t take long. As he worked, he could hear her. She could move a little now, but alas, there was nowhere to go. She beat against the lid and scratched and clawed and screamed, but to no avail. In just under an hour the air would be exhausted, but the screaming and clawing would end well before that. She would be at peace.
And so would he. “ ‘But out of Evil proceeded Good,’ ” he chanted softly to himself, “ ‘for their very excess wrought in my spirit an inevitable revulsion.’ ” Cheerfully, he continued the spadework until the pit was full and smooth with only the merest tip of the coffin exposed to bring about its eventual discovery. And this time, the tune returned to him, and he whistled while he worked.
3
I awoke bathed in sweat. My cammies clung to me like glue, my whole body was cold, and there was an empty aching in my chest that felt as if someone had ripped my heart out while I slept. My wrist was throbbing, talking to me. I tried to stand but found I couldn’t. Finally settled for rolling onto my back. I forced myself to inhale and exhale, hoping it would steady my nerves, which it never did.
I’d had some bad mornings before, but never anything like this. I felt as if I’d broken something, some part of my natural living apparatus. Am I dead? I wondered, and some part of me hoped I was.
After about two minutes that seemed like ten hours, Lisa came into the room. She cradled my head in her lap and squeezed my hand tightly, stroking the side of my face.
“You can do it, sweetie,” she said in soft, dulcet tones. I knew she was trying to be comforting, but I couldn’t stop thinking that she sounded like a cross between a kindergarten teacher and a hooker. “I’m here for you. They told me you might have mornings like this.”
“I-don’t know what’s happening,” I said, breathing deeply. “I slept okay in the hospital.”
“They were giving you drugs. Librium. It’s a benzodiazepine. Eases the withdrawal symptoms. This is your first morning off.”
“God.” My lips were dry and cracked. “Lisa, I think I’m going to need a little something, just so I can function. It’ll be the last-”
“No, Susan. No booze.”
“I don’t want the alcohol. I just need to kill this pain-”
“No booze.”
“It’s not like I want to get drunk. Once I get this anxiety under control, I won’t touch another-”
“That’s exactly what they told me you’d say, Susan. The answer is no. You’ve got to ride this out.”
“Fine.” I knew she was right, but at the same time I was cursing her under my breath, thinking what a stupid woman she was, how she didn’t understand at all. I began plotting how I could get rid of her so I could live my own life. It wasn’t as if one stupid drink was going to put me back on the skids and start me hallucinating. I could control it, and this time I would.
Took almost an hour to get to the point where I could walk. Showering made me feel a lot better. I cleaned up, put on some jeans and a clean shirt. Used some damn bubble-gum-flavored toothpaste I found in Lisa’s medicine cabinet. Considered myself lucky I didn’t have to use a Barbie toothbrush.
She’d already found me an apartment, not far from hers, and had my stuff moved into it. At the same time, she made it clear that I was welcome to stay with her as long as I wanted or needed. She hadn’t lived with anyone for over a year, so she had a second bedroom that did nothing but collect dust. It was a generous offer. But I couldn’t help noticing that she didn’t suggest that I move into the spare bedroom on a permanent basis. We’d tried being roommates once, when we were both in college. It was a disaster. The fact that we are still friends is a testament to the healing power of forgiveness, or perhaps the evanescence of human memory.
“I want to see Rachel,” I told Lisa as I finished dressing.
“I knew you would,” she replied. “You’ve got an appointment at noon.”
“So now I need an appointment to see my own niece?”
She didn’t say anything.
I peered into Lisa’s big lighted makeup mirror. At thirty-four years of age, I was still subject to pimples, and sure enough, there was a big one right at the top of the bridge of my nose. Makeup or straight pin? �
��Well, that’ll be okay. We can get some lunch.”
“You… aren’t permitted to take her away from her foster home.”
“What?”
“I’m sure they’ll change that in time, but for now, your visit will be restricted to the Shepherds’ home.”
“Who the hell are they to tell me when and how I can see Rachel?”
“They’re just trying-”
“I’m her only living relative.”
“They know that, and-”
“They’ve got no business giving me orders.”
I could sense that Lisa was getting irritated. “As far as NDHS is concerned, you’re the sozzled psycho who attacked a kid in a bar and then-” She paused. “They’re not going to let you take Rachel anywhere.”
“Have they been spreading these slanderous remarks all over town? I will fight this-”
“Susan.” I could tell she was checking herself, biting back words. “Give yourself a little time. You’re not going to put everything back together in a day. Your main focus should be on getting healthy. And staying healthy.”
“You’re right, of course,” I said, not meaning it at all. I finished brushing my hair and adjusted the lay of my bra. Nothing worse than poorly aligned mammaries. “So what have you planned to kill time till noon?”
“I thought we might go to the mall at the Venetian. Do a little window-shopping for purposeless trinkets we can never afford. Maybe bump into Michael Jackson. Get a coffee. Ride a gondola.”
I shook my head. “Thanks, Lisa, but I’d go nuts. Will you take me downtown?”
“You mean downtown as in police headquarters?”
I touched my nose. “Got it in one.”
“I told you already. You’re no longer employed there.”
“Then I need to clean out my office, don’t I?”
Lisa looked very dubious. “I suppose.”
“So let’s roll.”
“And you won’t cause any trouble?”
“Moi? Wouldn’t dream of it.” I tucked in my shirt, wishing I still had a holster to strap on. “I’m finished with that sort of thing. From now on, I’m going to be amiable and even-tempered at all times. Positively serene.”
Dark Eye Page 3
