It was possible, she supposed, that Sal was telling the truth. Maybe he had a sudden desire to get to know his cousin’s longtime girlfriend. But something wouldn’t allow Liza to believe that. Maybe she was becoming as paranoid as Puck, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Dirk and Sal knew more than they were telling her and, whatever it was, they were in on it together.
Her mind quickly flicked to Link and what he would say.
Of course they’re in on it together, Liza. They’re both guilty of murder and who knows what else?
Her frown deepened, not because she believed for a minute the mental accusation, but because she had such an uncanny knowledge of what Link would say. Dirk was right; she barely knew Link. She shouldn’t instinctively know what he would think and say, but somehow she did. Maybe it was because they were kindred spirits. In him she sensed someone else who had always been on the outside looking in. Why else would he date the beautiful elite women so far outside his league? Was his life so very different from hers? They both wanted something just out of reach. The only difference she could see was that he was a serial dater while she pined for one specific person.
Sal insisted on paying for their coffee. Liza was impatient for the ordeal to be over, but he and Marion seemed to be having a great time playing off each other. She would be eternally grateful to
Marion
for rescuing her from the awkwardness of this meeting. If she had to spend so much time alone with Sal, she wasn’t sure she would be able to maintain her polite façade. Above all, she didn’t want to make an enemy of Sal. For whatever reason he wasn’t throwing his weight around with Dirk, but if she made him angry he might tell his cousin to break up with her. What bothered her most was her certainty that Dirk would listen. He would never brook his cousin, not even for her. Especially not for her.
Would he do it for Scarlet?
That was always the tormenting question in the back of her mind. If Dirk had stayed with Scarlet and Sal didn’t approve, would Dirk buck his opinion and stay with Scarlet anyway? Somehow she knew the answer was yes, and suddenly she was fighting tears in the middle of the coffee shop.
“Excuse me,” she said, her words coming out in a throaty whisper.
Sal and
Marion
broke off mid-conversation to turn to her in concern. She made her escape before they could question her. Maybe they would think she simply had to use the bathroom. And maybe chickens might ride horses through the coffee shop.
She dashed to the bathroom and locked herself in a stall, not pausing to glance at herself in the mirror. She had no desire to see her pathetic, tear-filled eyes. She wanted to lean against the stall, but her fear of bathroom germs kept her standing upright, not touching anything. After a few, cleansing breaths she was ready to leave the tiny cubicle. This time she did pause to study her reflection in the mirror. To her chagrin, her face showed all her recent emotional turmoil. Her eyes were large and watery with dark purple shadows underneath. Her mouth gave an uncontrollable tremulous quiver.
“Is it really worth it?” she asked her reflection. True, there had been a lot of strange upheaval in her life lately. Not everyone woke up to discover that unknown men had been leaving messages in her underwear drawer, but deep inside Liza knew that wasn’t what this was about. It was about Dirk; it always was.
By now she had already been gone a few minutes, but she wasn’t yet ready to go back to the table. When she stepped out of the bathroom, she faced a choice. She could either turn right and go back to the table--risking another embarrassing meltdown--or she could go left and escape outside for some fresh air.
Her hand was on the outside door before she could finish the thought. She stepped through and breathed deeply, feeling like a diver coming up for air. Just a few breaths and she would be able to put a cap on her usually subdued emotions.
She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, and that’s when it happened.
“Where is it?” A croaky whisper sounded in her ear. The voice was the least of her worries, though. The knife now pressed to her throat was far more worrisome. “Keep your eyes closed,” he commanded. His tone was rough, as was his hand on her arm. He shook her once, hard.
“What?” she asked, her voice a faint whisper.
“Where is it?” he repeated with more urgency. “Who did you give it to?”
She couldn’t make her mind assimilate his meaning. “What?”
The knife pressed closer. He used the dull side so he didn’t cut her, but her airflow was starting to become impaired.
“This is your last chance. Tell me where it is, or we’re going to take a nice, long ride together.”
“I don’t know what you want. My purse is inside,” she said.
“I don’t want your purse. You know what I want. Who did you tell?”
At last the obvious reality began to sink in. He was either the man who had left the message, or the man who was supposed to receive it. “I…” she started, and her voice shook as much as her body.
There was a squeal of tires, and then the man was gone. Liza opened her eyes in time to see Link Stone emerge from his car, gun drawn, and then everything went black.
Chapter 17
When Liza opened her eyes again, she found that she was leaning against the stone exterior of the coffee shop. Since she was still standing, she figured she hadn’t actually lost consciousness. She must simply have felt faint and closed her eyes.
“Liza.” Link was beside her, touching her arm reassuringly. She watched while he holstered his gun, keeping one hand on her the whole time as if afraid she might fall over.
“Link.” Instinctively, she wrenched her arm out of his grasp. “What are you doing here?”
“Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” he asked. His face was puckered, but his expression looked more angry than concerned.
“I think I’m okay,” she said uncertainly.
“You did the right thing not telling him anything,” he said.
“I…” For an instant, she almost rehashed the entire event in order to relieve her stress, and then a new thought occurred to her. “How did you know I didn’t tell him anything.?”
“What?”
His ignorance sounded forced. Somehow she knew his confused expression was a façade. Though he had probably just saved her life, she found herself irrationally irritated with him. “Don’t play coy. How did you know I didn’t tell him anything?” Her arms crossed over her chest, daring him to lie to her.
He crossed his arms over his chest, too. “All right, so I bugged you, but it’s for your own safety.”
“You…you’ve been listening to me?”
He nodded, pressing his lips firmly together in defiance.
“Were you listening when I was with Dirk?”
He nodded again.
“You had no right…” she began, but he interrupted her.
“I had every right,” he burst out. He ran his hand through his hair, temporarily disheveling the short spikes. “Liza, I don’t know what you’re thinking, I really don’t. You seem to have no idea the amount of danger you’re in or what’s swirling around you. How can you continue to spend time with someone who could get you killed at any moment? I don’t get it.”
How could she rationalize her relationship with Dirk to him when she couldn’t understand it herself?
Her eyes filled with traitorous tears again.
Link blew out a breath and ran his hand through his hair again. “Ah, geez,” he said. He placed his hands on her shoulders and intentionally softened his tone. “I’m worried about you. Even for an innocent you’re innocent, almost naïve.”
She shook off his touch. “Don’t condescend.”
He put his hands on her shoulders again, but this time any pretense of gentle concern was gone. He shook her slightly. “Liza, I’m the good guy here. Why is it you buy all of your boyfriend’s malarkey, but you won’t believe me when I tell you the truth?”
She shrugged away from him again. “Stop it. I’ve already told you I won’t believe anything bad about Dirk. Granted, he’s not perfect, but he’s not a murderer or a liar. There is absolutely nothing you can say to convince me of that.”
There was one thing. “I need to talk to you, privately.”
Whatever she read in his eyes made her wary. “I can’t right now. I’m with friends.”
“Later, then.”
Suddenly she was desperate not to hear whatever it was he had to impart. She shook her head.
“Liza,” he pressed. “This is important. Life or death.”
“I have to get back,” she said.
He stood wavering, trying to decide if he was going to argue again. Finally, he gave in with a sigh and walked to his car. She watched until he drove out of the parking lot, numbing her mind to their previous conversation. Whatever he had to tell her, she was sure she didn’t want to hear it, but still she didn’t go back inside.
At last when she had been gone so long she was in danger of becoming a picture on a milk carton, she turned and went back inside. At the end of the corridor, she ran into Sal’s solid form. His chest was so hard she bounced back a step and would have fallen if he hadn’t put up his hands to catch her.
“Liza, are you okay?” he asked. “You’ve been gone a long time.” He searched her face and looked over her head at the door. Was it her imagination, or did he seem suspicious?
“I’m fine,” she lied.
He nodded, although he clearly didn’t believe her. “I need to get going for my date.” He paused. “I had fun with your friend, but I was really hoping to get to know you better. Maybe we could try this again sometime.”
“Uh,” she stammered. More than anything in life she never wanted to repeat this experience. “Maybe you can come for a meal with Dirk sometime. Everyone needs a home-cooked meal now and then.” Cooking for him in her home with Dirk there would put her at her ease, as much as she could be in his uncomfortable presence.
He smiled. “That sounds nice, but I was hoping to get to know you away from Dirk.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “You act different around him. I want to know the real you.”
She was flabbergasted by his seemingly innocent statement. “You don’t think I’m myself with Dirk?”
“Are you?” he asked. He searched her face once more, then smiled and shrugged. “Who am I to say? We’d better get back to
Marion
before she loses her keys again.” He clasped her hand, tugging her behind him.
She tripped behind him in a daze. Her thoughts had never felt so confused or muddled. In one day, both Link and Sal had given her insight into her relationship with Dirk, and it was almost more than she could bear. They were both strangers, and yet they had seen through her layers of insecurity to the heart of the matter. She didn’t really know Dirk. He had a life away from her that she knew nothing about. She had never really opened up to him, never let him know how much she adored him because she was too afraid of losing him.
Marion
was quiet as she followed Sal and Liza to the car. The ride back to the college was silent as well.
Marion
and Sal made some joke as they said goodbye to each other. Liza forced a vague smile but didn’t laugh along. She mumbled goodbye to Sal, remembering to thank him for the coffee she had left untouched back at the shop.
He turned to
Marion
. “Don’t leave her alone tonight,” he said, sounding like he was only half joking.
“I’ll take care of her,”
Marion
said. There was no humor in her voice. She put her arm around Liza and led her to her car.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” Liza surprised them both by asking.
Marion
’s guest bedroom had been appropriated by her pets. They slept on the bed, and it was covered with their fur. Since they lived in the same town, Liza had never needed to stay with
Marion
before, but she had shuddered at the thought of staying on the fur-covered bed anyway. Now she didn’t care. She simply wanted solace.
“Of course you can,”
Marion
said. She herded Liza to her car. “Can you drive? You could ride with me.”
Liza was tempted to ride with
Marion
except that she had already seen
Marion
’s car that day and knew she would spend ten minutes clearing the seat before she could sit down. She shook her head. “I’ll drive. Thanks, Mar.”
Marion
gave her shoulders a squeeze and dashed to her car. She so rarely ran her hurry must be an indication of how worried she was for Liza. But even in the midst of Liza’s upset, she took a moment to enjoy the sight of her pudgy little friend waddling to her car.
Marion
was one of those people who was funny even when she wasn’t trying to be. The brief burst of laughter helped clear up some of her emotions so that by the time they arrived at
Marion
’s house, Liza was feeling a little bit better. At least she wasn’t in a zombie-like emotional trance anymore.
Her phone rang. She ignored it, allowing it to go to voicemail. The caller ID showed her it was Link, and she had no desire to talk to him when he was the one person she was trying to avoid.
She opened her door and stepped out of the car, but before she could make it to
Marion
’s front door, her phone rang again. When the caller ID showed it was Dirk, she put her thumb on the phone to flip it open, and then paused. She didn’t want to talk to Dirk right now, either. She couldn’t. This day had been an emotional rollercoaster. Liza needed to regroup for awhile before she talked to him or she would explode in a torrent of tears the moment she heard his voice.
“Liza, are you coming in?”
Marion
called.
Liza followed the sound of her voice to the kitchen where she found
Marion
bustling around and filling a teapot with water. “I’m making you some tea,” she announced. She set the teapot on the stove and turned it on. “Now where do I keep my tea?” She spun, scanning the cupboards with a puzzled frown.
“
Marion
, it’s okay. I don’t want tea; it’s ninety degrees outside.”
“But in books people always drink tea when they’re in any sort of emotional distress.”
“This isn’t a book; this is real life, and water will be fine.” Liza stood and turned off the stove, removing an oven mitt that was touching the burner and beginning to smolder. “A glass of water will be fine, and I can get it myself. Do you want one?”
“Okay.”
Marion
sank into a chair at the kitchen table. “With ice,” she said. “Thank you,” she added when Liza set the glass of water before her. “So why are you in emotional distress?”
“You mean besides the fact that a murderer has been leaving coded messages in my pajamas?”
“Yes. Give me a legitimate reason, something believable.”
Liza smiled and sat primly in the chair across from her friend. She could always count on
Marion
to cheer her up. “I’m tired, Mar,” she said.
Marion
nodded. “I’m sure you probably haven’t been sleeping well.”
“I actually have been sleeping well, oddly enough. That’s not what I meant. I meant I’m tired of fighting so hard to keep someone who doesn’t want to be kept.”
Marion
sipped her water and studied Liza with a thoughtful look. “You know what your problem is, Liza? Your problem with Dirk, I mean.”
“Thanks for narrowing it down. No, what is my problem with Dirk?”
“You never talk to him.”
“What are you talking about? I talk to him every day.”
“You ask him about work. You talk about your job. You talk about me and interesting stories you heard on the news. Have you ever told him really personal stuff like how you have different underwear for different moods?”
Liza grimaced. “Why on earth would I tell him about my underwear categories?”
“Okay, that was a bad example, but it was the first thing that came to mind. Have you ever told him how much it hurts your feelings that Bryce and your parents are so standoffish? Have you ever told him about the time we had that screaming match in college that lasted all night? Have you ever told him about the time you fell down the stairs in gym class and then had to do ten pushups for being late?”
“Of course not,” Liza said, feeling keenly uncomfortable reliving all the memories. “Those things are all bad.”
“Exactly,”
Marion
said. “You try and paint this picture of yourself as some perfect girl who has no needs or hurts of your own.”
“I have to,” Liza said. “Dirk is perfect, and he wants a perfect woman.”
“Dirk is not perfect,”
Marion
said. “I could list ten of his faults without even thinking about it.”
Liza scowled. “I would rather you didn’t.”
Marion
rolled her eyes. “That’s the problem, Liza. You don’t want things to be real. You want to keep your house perfect, your body perfect, your life perfect. You want the perfect boyfriend and the perfect relationship. But none of that is real, none of it is deep.”
Liza sat back and bit her trembling lip, willing herself not to cry. She and Marion had decided long ago to be honest with each other at all costs, but that didn’t mean they had to agree on everything. “So maybe I do want things to be perfect, but there’s nothing wrong with that. And it’s worked for five years. Maybe your policy of being yourself isn’t so great either, Mar. I mean, do you really think it’s fair to the guys you date that they have to be subjected to the chaos of your life?” She swept her hand around the disorderly house.
Now it was
Marion
’s turn to pout. “Low blow, Liza.”
They sat in uncomfortable silence until Liza’s phone rang again. By the ringtone, she knew it was Dirk. “I’m going to take this,” she said. She set her water glass on the table, stepped out of the house, and opened the phone.
“Hey, Babe,” Dirk said.
In answer, Liza burst into tears.