Murder and Mayhem (45 page)

TWENTY-NINE

I was lying on the bed beside my
sister as she drifted between sleep and wakefulness. Unable to concentrate, my
mind kept drifting back to what happened at the hospital that afternoon,

The fog had rolled in from the
west covering everything like a thick blanket as we crossed the Golden Gate
Bridge and headed into the city.
I had to
swerve to miss a dog on Highway 101/Lombard Street, and stop for a homeless
vagrant pushing a trolley filled with all her worldly possessions up Van Ness.

When we entered the room, Chartreuse and Louanna were
huddled in the corner like a couple of N.F.L. linemen and we walked over to
them.

“How are you both doing today?” I asked.

“Hey, yo’self, Bee. Is you doin’ okay, Hon?”
Chartreuse asked.

“I am, Chartreuse, thank you for asking. What about
you, Louanna? Is everything all right?”

“Everything is just peachy, Hon,” she said, and nudged
Chartreuse in the side. “Go on Treuse, you tell ‘em.”

Chartreuse shook her head. “Uh-huh, Louanna, this is
your party, I think you should be the one to tell ‘em.”

“Tell us what?” Rosie asked.

I put two and two together with the party things and
smiled. “Is it your birthday, Louanna?”

“No,” Louanna said, frowning. “My birthday was last
May.”

“Can you give us a hint?” Rosie asked.

Chartreuse moved her hands over her belly, and
grinned.

“Are you pregnant too, Chartreuse?” I asked excitedly.

Chartreuse shook her head. “Uh-uh. No way. As soon as
I found out Louanna was pregnant I sent my Isaac to get his little willy
snipped ‘cause Louanna is goin’ to need all the hep she can get. I gotta be
there for my sister, not off having babies of my own–that would be right
selfish.”

“Your Isaac ‘haint got no little willy, Truese,”
Louanna said.

How would she know?

Chartreuse noticed the startled look on my face, and
laughed. “Hey, girl, don’ look so shocked. You know that ol’ saying,
try
before you buy?
Well
,
me and Louanna tried both brothers before we
got married to see which one suited us best. Haint no good you marry the wrong
brother, then whachoo gonna do? Go on Jerry Springer?”

Louanna ran her hand over her stomach and smiled. “We
want you and Bee to be god-mummies to my bubbies.”

“Oh, no, Louanna we couldn’t do that. What about
Chartreuse. Why don’t you ask her to be godmother?” Rosie said.

“Chartreuse is godmummy to my
other six.”

Chartreuse heaved a sigh. “I’m all godmothered out.”

“Have you discussed this with Shaylon? Maybe he has
someone in mind.” I would hate to offend anyone.

“Shaylon thought it was a great idea,” Louanna said.

“I feel very privileged,” Rosie said.

I nodded, lost for words. I could feel my eyes tearing
up. I reached over and gave Louanna a hug. “It would be an honor,” I said.

*****

As the SUV sped along I-83, Danny saw the white dome
of the Capitol Building in the distance and suggested a detour.

“I’ve never been to Harrisburg,” Nicola said as they
drove across the bridge above the Susquehanna River.

“I once visited a guy who lived in Rutherford Heights,
but he moved to Montana a couple of years back,” Danny said.

When they finished the tour, they had lunch in a deli
filled with people in suits, then wandered down Front Street and satin the park
beside the river. The warmth of the afternoon sun washed over their bodies as a
light breeze drifted off the river and sent leaves tumbling across the grass.

A harried mother rushed by with a small child in tow.
The blond moppet dressed in blue, with hair ribbons trailing, spied a couple of
pigeons feasting on a discarded sandwich and ran at them. The birds took to the
air in raucous indignation.

  The child’s mother stopped and looked behind to see
what the commotion was about. “Come along Sara, don’t dawdle,” she called in
the same exasperated tiredness of mothers the world over.

  Nicola saw Danny stiffen at the mention of the name.

“Tell me about Sara?” she said.

Danny closed his eyes and shook his head slowly.

“Please, Danny,” she insisted. “I need to understand
what happened.”

Danny stared off into the distance his hands clenching
the wooden rungs of the seat so tightly his knuckles turned white. When he
finally spoke she had to strain to hear the words. “No, Nic. You don’t.”

In the silence they could hear the rumble of cars on
the J. Harris Bridge, and the laughter of teenagers as they walked along the
path. In the distance a siren wailed. The bright blue fabric of Sara’s dress
swirled around her tiny body as she skipped down the path with the gentle voice
of her mother coaxing her onwards.

As Danny’s eyes followed her progress, he tried to
escape the dream that replayed in his head every night in that cold, gray
moment just before dawn.

He raked his fingers through his hair and looked
around. “We should go,” he said.

A man sitting on a bench just around the curve of the
garden removed his cap and ran his fingers through his thatch of blond hair, a
stark contrast to the dark stubble that peppered his jaw. He replaced the cap
and pulled it down snugly, adjusted his sunglasses and watched the
copper-haired woman and tall blond-headed man cross the road. With his head
slightly bent, he followed, the collar of his T-shirt pulled up to hide the
marks not completely hidden by the new growth of beard on his face. His hand
strayed to his pocket and found the object lying hidden beneath his wallet. His
fingers curled around the fine gold chain and he thought of the slender neck it
once had adorned.

*****

“Is he the same guy that killed that woman in
Vermont?” Rosie asked as I adjusted the pillow behind her back. “And, don’t go
giving me that, I don’t know what you mean, routine.”

“What would you have me say?”

“How about telling the truth for starters?”

“Hon, I always tell the truth.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Just because I don’t tell you what’s going on doesn’t
mean I’m not telling you the truth,” I reasoned.

“It’s called lying by omission,” Rosie said and
pressed her lips together in righteous indignation.

“If you say so,” I said and scrolled back through the
chapter.

She waited… and harrumphed.

I kept scrolling.

“Well? Are you going to tell me
or not?”

My eyes slid sideways. “Tell you what?”

“Is he the same guy that was with the woman in
Vermont?”

“What woman?”

“You know–the one in red.”

“The woman in red… Mmm..., now let me see?” I tapped
my forehead and tugged at my lip thoughtfully.

“Well?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Sorry. I don’t remember.”

“What do you mean you don’t remember?”

“It was a long time ago. I’ve
written thousands of word since there. How do you expect me to remember
everything I’ve written,” I said evasively.

Rosie gave me a hard look and then looked away, her
fingers tugging at an imagined loose thread on her sweater. It was a feat. An
act of pure perception. I ought to know. I’ve used it myself, many times.

Eventually she let out a long mournful sigh, and said,
“In other words you’re not going to tell me.”

I decided a change of subject
might be prudent. “I think I’ll go make myself a cup Milo and see what Ross
left in the fridge to eat. Can I get you anything?”

“Don’t know if I can trust you not to poison me. Where
is Ross anyway?”

“I sent him to the market for a couple of things and
to pick up the dry cleaning. And then he’s going to Petaluma to get a box of
Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

“Oh, good thinking, Bubbie. Damn shame the nearest
outlet is nearly an hour’s drive away.”

“It was either that or send him into the city and we
know peak hour on the bridge is not for sissies.”

“God, no! He wouldn’t be back in time to cook dinner,
and then where would we be?”

We shook our heads dourly, the consequences too
horrendous to contemplate.

When I emerged from my funk, I looked over at my
sister, and said, “What was the question you asked me a while ago?”

Rosie shrugged. “Damned if I can remember.”

*****

“Welcome back Mr. and Mrs. Richards.” The woman at the
front desk greeted them warmly when the computer flagged them as recent guests.

“Would you like the same room you had on your previous
visit?” she asked as she checked the screen.

“That would be fine, thank you, Georgina,” Danny said
reading the name tag on her uniform.

After the transaction had been processed and the key
card handed over, Danny picked up the bags and was about to head to the
elevator when he stopped, placed the bags on the floor and waited for Georgina
to finish on the phone.

“We’re on an 8:55flight in the morning. Would you book
us on the seven o’clock shuttle?”

“Certainly, Mr. Richards,” Georgina said making a note
in the log.

Danny reached for the bags, and then straightened. “I
have to return the rental car to Avis, so if I take it back to this evening
could the shuttle pick me up at the airport and bring me back here?”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Richards. After you return the
vehicle, the rental company bus will drop you back at the airport. Just pick up
the hotel phone in the arrival lounge and let them know you’re there and wait
for our driver in the designated area out front,” Georgina said.

Danny nodded his thanks, collected the bags and caught
the elevator to the fourth floor.

* * *

The room was quiet when Nicola stepped out of the
bathroom wrapped in a towel, combing her wet hair. After dinner, Danny had
dropped her back at the hotel before heading to Avis to return the SUV.

She picked up the remote and turned on the television.
The image of a newsreader morphed onto the screen, she turned the volume down
and started to organize her bag in preparation of the early flight.

As she sorted through her clothes her subconscious
picked up on something the newsreader said.

“…Early this morning, police divers recovered the body
of an as yet unidentified woman from the Swatara River, near Suedburg, off
Interstate Eighty-one north of Harrisburg.”

Nicola stopped what she was doing and looked at the
screen. She picked up the remote and increased the volume.

“Sources have confirmed that both hands had been
removed from the woman’s body. A police spokesman suggested this was possibly
to eliminate DNA evidence left by the killer during the ensuing struggle.  

“Harrisburg Police have issued a description of the
woman as mid- to-late-thirties, five-foot-seven inches in height, weighing
approximately one hundred and sixty pounds with long brown hair and green eyes.
They have requested anyone who may have seen this woman–or recognize her–to
contact the Harrisburg Police Department at the number on the bottom of the
screen.

“Meanwhile, in Oklahoma the tornado continues its
destructive path…”

 Nicola picked up the remote, changed channels and the
Dixie Chicks morphed onto the screen. She wandered into the bathroom singing,
and removed the hairdryer from the wall bracket. When she reached up to dry her
hair, the towel fell to the floor. Nicola ignored it and kept on singing even
though she couldn’t hear the Chicks above the sound of the dryer -and she
didn’t hear the door open. Nicola let out a startled cry as an image suddenly
appeared in the mirror.

“Babe…,” Danny whispered as he came up behind her and
ran his fingers lightly down her spine.

Nicola turned off the dryer and returned it to the wall
bracket.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said to his
reflection as she watched his eyes roam over her body, his hands following the
contours, not quite touching the skin. The sensation, electric.

“I was counting on it,” he whispered as he wrapped his
arms around her and pulled her gently back to him. He cupped her breasts with
his hands and started to massage them, lightly running his finger over the
nipples.