by Geonn Cannon
"Don't worry about it."
Which means I did, Mallory thought. She wondered where, exactly, was the line she crossed. When she tried to think back over their frenzied, almost angry coupling, she found too many possibilities for comfort. She put her bra on and picked up her blouse. "I have to go," she said. "I can't let the trail get too cold."
"You flew to Texas from Washington just to get laid? Are you sure you can afford that?"
"I'm fine," Mallory said sharply. She softened her voice and added, "And I flew to Texas from Washington to get laid by you. That's different."
"I'm flattered. Let me thank you properly."
"I have to get back."
Toni sat up and crawled over the mattress. She embraced Mallory from behind and kissed her neck. Mallory leaned back against her, let her slender fingers slide over the swells of her breasts. "Toni," she whispered. "Toni..."
Toni undid the catch of Mallory's bra and pushed it out of the way. "Faye," she said. The word was carried on a soft, exhaled breath and it touched Mallory's throat like a caress. Mallory's nipples rose in response to Toni's touch, and her heart pounded when she felt Toni's breasts pillowing against her back. When Toni pushed her fingers between Mallory's legs, the spell was shattered.
"Toni, cut it the fuck out." She swept Toni's hands away and stood up. Toni was left perched on the bed, sheets wrapped around her waist like a toga. She pushed her dark red hair out of her face and watched Mallory storm across the room. "I have to go. I have to get out of here. I have to catch a flight."
"You have to keep chasing your white whale."
"Shut up about that. Who are you, Herman Fucking Melville? Broken damn record. Always the same story with you."
Toni got out of bed and pushed the blankets off. She stood unabashedly naked between Mallory and the door, watching as Mallory re-fastened her bra and pulled on her shirt. "I don't want you to leave."
"It's called a vibrator."
"I don't want you to leave because you're destroying yourself." She grabbed Mallory's wrist and held tight when she tried to pull away. "Look at yourself, Faye. You're a damn ghost. This one-woman witch hunt isn't doing anybody any good. And how much is it costing you? Your savings? How much longer are you going to be able to keep this up? You're heading for a burn out."
"I'm heading for an arrest."
Toni ignored that. "Who's going to be there when you finally run out of steam? Run out of cash? Run out of road? Huh? Do you expect me to sit here and watch you destroy yourself for some fool's errand?"
Mallory slapped Toni hard across the face. "She murdered my fucking sister! She should pay, goddamn it. No one else is looking for her. No one else cares. No one is fighting for her anymore." By the time she stopped talking, her face was wet with tears. She slugged Toni on the shoulder, but the fight had seeped out of her. She slid slowly to her knees and pressed her face against Toni's stomach. "I was supposed to protect her. It was my job to protect her."
Toni put a hand on top of Mallory's head. "I know, Faye."
A few minutes later, Mallory's tears dried and Toni dressed in a sloppily buttoned dress shirt, they sat shoulder to shoulder against the side of the bed. Mallory had a beer from the mini bar in her hand. "I was seven," she said, "when our parents died. We went to live with our aunt and uncle. They didn't care about us. We were little burdens dumped on their doorstep. They gave us a place to sleep, kept us clean and fed, but that was it. Elaine was so little. Four years old. She didn't even understand what happened. To her a car accident was when she didn't make it to the bathroom in time."
She smiled a little at that and looked down at her beer. "I made it my responsibility to look after her. My baby sister. Any time anyone gave her shit on the playground, any time she got her heart broken, I was there. To build her up and to keep her safe. I only got into one really bad fight, with the brother of a girl Elaine was dating. He walked in on their first kiss and went ballistic. He hit her. He hit her in the face and called her such ugly names. She came home weeping, with a black eye."
"What did you do to him?"
"I tried to flatten his tires. He caught me, though. I told him who I was, he shoved me, I kicked him in the balls. Ended up with a bloody nose and a broken finger, but I knocked two of his teeth out. Elaine was my responsibility. I took pride in that. And then one day I got a call. And I walked into a morgue. And they pulled my sister out of a drawer. How can I let Lance get away with doing that?"
"Maybe that's not the question you need to be asking," Toni said. She put her hand on top of Mallory's and brushed her knuckles with the pad of her thumb. "Maybe you should be asking how you could allow her to kill you both."
Mallory frowned.
"This is going to end with Lance's arrest or your death, Faye. It terrifies me that I might be right about that. Lance is not going to go down easily. And you, Faye, you're never going to give up. One of you has to give. It won't be Claire Lance."
Mallory's tears continued to fall and she made no move to wipe them away. "I choked a hooker."
Toni frowned. "What?"
"An escort. I requested a woman who looked like Lance and I choked her. While she was fucking me. My God."
Toni resisted the urge to pull her hand back, knowing what kind of damage that would cause. "Faye, that's—"
"Twisted. Insane. She had to use a safe word. I let her go. I paid her extra."
"That alone should convince you that you have a problem."
"What am I supposed to do?" Mallory asked, her voice a throaty rasp. "Stop dead in my tracks? Hang it up, throw in the towel? Let her go?"
"She can't run forever, Faye. One day, she'll have to stop. And on that day, you should be ready for her. If you continue on this path, when you finally do find her, you may not have the power to finish the job. She'll slip through your grasp."
Just like she did in Oklahoma City, Mallory thought.
"Step back. Breathe. Work mentally on the problem for a while. Maybe all you need is a little time to breathe."
"Yeah," Mallory whispered. "Maybe."
"Will you stay here with me?"
Mallory took a long time to answer, but she finally nodded. "Yeah. I'd like that."
Toni turned Mallory's head and they kissed softly in the dim light of the hotel room.
#
Chapter Eight
Sinjin's stood on a rise that looked out over the highway, a modern day castle surrounded by a moat of Astroturf in a sea of undeveloped dirt. Signs stood every few hundred feet declaring upcoming projects with art deco drawings of what the completed businesses would look like. Lance pulled into the parking lot and found a space among the hundreds of other cars. She took her coat out of the backseat and let it hang from her fingers as Jodie joined her at the back of the car. She watched the lights on the highway as they crossed to the front of the restaurant.
"Nice spot," she said. "Pulls in all the weary travelers."
"Yep," Jodie said. "Rebecca didn't pick this place because of visibility, though. She knew this whole area was being developed, so she put the restaurant on the fast-track. She wanted to get it up and running, make it a success, and then it would become the anchor for every other business that gets developed."
"That's one way to be king of the hill," Lance said. "Make sure you're standing where they're going to build the hill."
Jodie chuckled and they went into the building. Two padded benches formed a waiting area on either side of the door, but Jodie walked past everyone who was waiting to the hostess' podium. "Hi. Jodie Curran, table for two."
The girl didn't even check her reservation list. She gathered two menus and said, "Right this way, please."
As they crossed the crowded restaurant, Lance said, "I'm going to have you make all my reservations from now on."
"I didn't have a reservation," Jodie said. They took their seats and the hostess vanished with a promise their waiter would be along soon. "I kind of have a standing invitation. Minor local celebrity and
all that. Plus Rebecca treats me like I'm the heir to Richard Petty."
Lance opened her menu and scanned the offerings. She had just made her choice when a pair of hands closed on her shoulders and squeezed. It wasn't an aggressive squeeze, but it was tight enough that she couldn't escape. She leaned forward and craned her neck to look up at the person who was assaulting her. The blonde towered over Lance's seat, her black shirt open at the collar to reveal a small gold cross. Her eyes were blue, almost hidden by her bangs, her thin lips pulled back in an almost feral grin.
The woman turned her attention to Jodie. "Got a new one on the hook, eh, Calico?"
"Rebecca. I didn't see you come up. This is, ah, this is Carmen Landry."
"Nice to meet you. Rebecca St. John." She kept her hands right where they were.
"Yeah," Lance managed. Get your damn hands off of me.
Jodie cleared her throat. "Do you want to have a seat?" She gestured at the empty space to her right. "We were just about to order."
"No, I can't stay. Melanie told me you came in with a date. I heard you and Tania were on the outs."
Jodie said, "Tania's done, yeah."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Can I speak with you privately for a moment?"
Jodie kept her eyes steady on Rebecca. "I'm on a date."
"It won't take a minute. Carly won't mind."
"Carmen," Lance said, eyeing her salad fork and wondered if it would go through the woman's hand, into her own shoulder.
"Right. Sorry. It'll just take a moment, Calico, and then I'll bring you right back. Promise."
Jodie closed her menu and stood up. "Order me the salmon, if the waiter shows up."
"Yeah," Lance said, and Rebecca's hands thankfully disappeared from her shoulders. Lance turned and watched them walk away from the table. They stopped next to the kitchen door and Rebecca turned to face Jodie. She crossed her arms and spoke with her chin lowered, like a teacher berating her student. Jodie didn't hang her head, didn't fight back, just stared at Rebecca until she was done speaking. Rebecca looked at the table and caught her watching, but Lance didn't turn away. You invade my space, I'll invade your conversation.
Jodie nodded and started back toward the table. Rebecca stopped her by grabbing her elbow. They exchanged a few more words and Jodie continued walking. Her arm slipped out of Rebecca's grasp and Rebecca let it go. She crossed her arms again, gave Lance another hard look, and then pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen.
When Jodie returned to her seat, she said, "Sorry about that. Rebecca tends to be a little more hands-on than most people are comfortable with."
"It's all right," Lance said. She didn't want to focus what the connotations of her being grabbed from behind like that could mean. Capture, arrest, prison. The last time someone grabbed her, they tossed her into a dark room and her whole life went to pieces. "I just don't really like people sneaking up on me," she said.
"Well, that's Rebecca for you," Jodie said.
"It didn't seem like a particularly friendly relationship the two of you have."
"Friends one day, boss and employee the next. You know how it is. She's just concerned about the race I have coming up. She wants to be sure you don't distract me."
"She didn't seem too happy about your break-up with Tania," Lance said. As opposed to every other one of Jodie's friends she had met so far.
Jodie took a sip of her water and said, "Tania is her sister."
Lance blinked. "Oh." Sisters and cops. Lance was starting to think maybe she really did put out a beacon.
"I met Tania through Rebecca. She set us up. Tania and I had a long, drawn out conversation about our relationship over the phone last week, so I thought it was over. I didn't bring you here to put you in the middle of some drama."
"It's okay, I understand."
Their waiter arrived with their drinks, and they put aside conversation about Rebecca St. John for the time being.
#
At Jodie's door, Lance said, "Well, I guess this is where I get off."
"Actually that's inside, down the hall. If you're asking."
Lance laughed off the invitation. "Thanks. I should probably get going, though."
"All right. Thanks for dinner. Sorry Rebecca can be such a—"
"I didn't even think about her."
Jodie nodded. "I had a great time tonight. Lunch tomorrow? My treat, right?"
"My treat. You paid for dinner."
"If you say so," Jodie said. She smiled and Lance knew she was waiting for a good night kiss. They were holding hands, and Lance brushed her thumb over Jodie's knuckle. She stepped in and, at the last moment, chickened out and pressed her lips to Jodie's cheek. "Good night, Calico."
"Good night, Carmen."
Lance let their hands fall apart and stepped back. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yep."
"Sleep well."
Jodie grinned and opened her apartment door. Lance heard Danica wail from inside and smiled. "Tell your girlfriend I'm sorry I kept you out so late."
"Eh, who cares about her?" She winked and closed the door. Lance, alone in the hallway, stuck her hands in her pockets and went back to the elevator.
#
"Do you have time for lunch?"
"This is my lunch," Jodie said. She indicated the small round table with the torn-off crust of her egg sandwich. "And a lovely lunch it is."
They were stuck in the corner of a fast food restaurant, eating their breakfast with college students and harried single mothers. The sun slanted in through the windows, past the playground area to create cartoon character-shaped silhouettes on the walls. The garage was closed, and Jodie had to be at the track by noon, so Lance was forced to wake up early to spend any time with her.
She was surprised to discover how little she minded.
Lance plugged the top of her straw with her index finger and lifted it out of her shake. "Do you have time to do anything after this?" she asked, not sure what she planned to do if Jodie said yes. It was already nine, so whatever they did would have to be brief.
"I just planned to go home and veg." Lance was about to say that was all right with her when Jodie said, "You could hang out with me, if you want. We can play video games and pretend we're eighteen."
Lance grinned. "Eighteen was a pretty good age."
"Great." She gathered the detritus of their meal on the tray and carried it to the nearest trash can. She joined Lance at the door and, as they walked outside, Jodie slid her arm around Lance's and pulled her close. "Thanks for breaking fast with me."
"Breaking fast?" Lance said. She smiled. "It sounds weird when you say it like that. Intimate. Well, too intimate for egg sandwiches and a strawberry shake."
"Well, it is intimate, isn't it?" Jodie said as she got into the Mustang. "The first meal of the day, starting the day together, breaking bread. The meal is called break-fast."
"I guess it is, at that."
Lance drove to Jodie's apartment building and was forced to park on the opposite side of the street. They went upstairs and Jodie tossed her jacket onto the back of the couch. "Danica!" she called. The cat appeared from the kitchen, tail in the air and hips swishing, at the sound of her voice. Jodie knelt down and gathered the cat in her arms as she went around the couch.
Lance took a seat and Jodie indicated the video game system under the TV. "Pick a game."
"We're really going to play video games all morning?" Lance said with a smile.
"Unless you've got a better idea." Danica freed herself from Jodie's arms and leapt onto the back of the couch.
Lance leaned down and began sorting through the cases. "You seem to have a lot of racing games."
"Imagine that," Jodie said.
Lance settled on a football game. She loaded it into the player, untangled the wires of the controllers, and settled back against the couch cushions. While the game menu was loading, Danica crawled onto Lance's shoulder and bumped her head against Lance's chin. "This is going to interfere
with my game playing."
"Why do you think I trained her to do it? Get your pads on, wuss."
They attempted to play for about a half hour, before it became clear that Jodie was heading for a landslide victory. Lance realized she was focusing on Jodie more than the game, surprised when she discovered the laughter was coming from her. Losing the video game was fine by her as long as she got to lose with Jodie. It was easy sitting on the couch passing time with her, trading jibes about each other's video game skills. It was closer to the "real life" Lance saw in Montana than she'd experienced in a long time.
Jodie finally stopped the game, citing the mercy rule, and said, "You were actually not bad for a first time player."
"Yeah, yeah," Lance said. "I think I sacked one of my own players and scored a goal against myself."
Jodie laughed and shooed Danica away again. "Okay, so we still have an hour until I have to leave. You want to see if something's on TV?"
"We could listen to some music," Lance said.
Jodie pushed herself off the couch and went to the stereo. She sorted through her CDs and Lance took the opportunity to look her up and down. Blue jeans and an old Oxford shirt never looked so good. She lifted one bare foot and placed it on top of the other, standing like a balance beam artist as she looked for an appropriate album to start. "Oh." She laughed and said, "Yeah, okay." She opened the stereo, dropped the disc in and then kept her back to the couch.
"What did you pick?" Lance asked.
Jodie didn't answer. She rested her hands on the shelf and the music began to play. The song began with a discordant mess of drums and a squealing guitar that quickly evened out into a slow, steady drumbeat. Hawksley Workman began to sing "Tarantulove," and Jodie moved her hips in time with the rhythm. She moved her hands off the shelf and crossed her arms in front of herself.
Lance sat motionless on the sofa, not trusting herself to move or speak. Jodie's jeans fell to the floor and revealed a pair of black underwear. She stepped out of the denim as she turned around, her hands on the shelf again, her shoulders hunched and her head forward. Her hair hung in her face, obscuring her eyes as she moved in time with the music.
