2 Maid in the Shade (33 page)

I
had the mike in my hand. I looked at it in wonder for a moment then spoke. “Obviously those people aren’t from around here, am I right? Turns out we need to cleanse the palate and remember why we came.” There was a silence. Had I miscalculated our ability to turn this around?

“Who are we here for
?” I shouted into the mike. I smiled and cupped my hand to my ear, extending the mike toward them. “Jackson!” they began to shout and clap. “That’s right! How about a few more songs Jackson?”

His
new fans continued to clap wildly.

J
ackson jumped up on the platform and I handed him the mike. He cleared his throat. “I was teasing Lucy and Mona ‘fore we came tonight about them having Redneck Woman as their anthem, but I want to do a song for Gretchen, I can’t think of a better one for this girl right now than “Shake it Off” so y’all want to hear that first? They yelled their approval and I moved to jump off the stage when he gripped my hand. “Oh no baby, you’re not going anywhere. I’m singing this to you and I’m singing this FOR you.” 

J
ackson held my hand throughout the song, looking into my eyes and then at the crowd. When he finished he released his grip on me and I turned only to run up against Lucy. Jackson tossed her the mike and she grabbed my hand and said, “I want to dedicate this song to a person who will kill me for dedicating a second song to her, she looked dramatically up into my eyes. So she will remain nameless.” She turned and winked at the crowd and they started to laugh. “You know I can’t really sing worth a damn so help us out. Anybody here know “Cheers?”

I
leapt lightly down from the stage and watched Lucy, Jackson and Mona sing and dance to “I’ll Drink to That,” which couldn’t be further from my particular mode of celebration, but shifted the mood of the room back to a festive one. I settled myself beside a man who looked to be in his forties with a big black beard and a sleeveless shirt, obviously to show off his intricate tattoos. He reached up and tousled my hair like you would a child’s and patted my shoulder awkwardly before turning to look back up at the stage while the trio performed “Brighter than the Sun.” Lucy and Mona stepped down beside me while Jackson covered “She Will Be Loved,” “Forget You” (Cee Lo’s cleaned up version) and a few others. He was so much better with us out of the way, I thought as I grinned and wiped my eyes once. The tattooed gentleman beside me shot me a look of concern and I grinned and shrugged. He nodded with something like approval and took another swig of beer.

T
hen as Jackson wrapped up his performance I saw Jared urging some men onto the stage which was a great strategy. It put focus seamlessly back on the bar and the good time everyone had come there for.

Tweet: “Is there a pill for hypochondria?”

Chapter 25

I
left the bar with Lucy after a decent interval and Jackson and Mona stayed on. It was getting pretty late when I saw the jeep pull in the driveway. Mona clambered out with what looked like a handmade duffle. It was hideous with a variety of patterns and shapes. That thing was long as my legs and stuffed to the gills. She refused to let Jackson help her with it so I didn’t bother to try.

“Uh Mona, we are going to be switching off nights,
” I said uneasily. “You sure brought a lot of stuff.”

“
Oh,” she said “don’t you worry, I always over pack and you never know, maybe Lucy won’t be able to come tomorrow or whatnot. Now,” she said, waddling slightly with the weight of the bag as she headed to the back bedroom, “I feel like I been rode hard and put up wet, so I’d appreciate one of them pain pills. Also, I do like a glass of warm milk with my medicines, and then I’ll be out like a light.” 

S
he turned toward me, “Well go on now, and don’t heat it in the microwave, do it in a sauce pan and take the skin off before you pour it you hear?”

I
nodded dumbly and headed to the refrigerator as she unpacked and dressed. When I brought the glass into the bedroom she looked like she was in for the winter. The bag had been dumped out but had still retained its shape and was lying beside her on the bed. The closet was open with a sweater and slacks folded neatly on the shelves. A pouch that matched the overnight bag was lying on the closet floor. Mona was wearing a nightgown and sheer periwinkle robe identical to my own. I hadn’t planned on wearing mine tonight, now I doubted I would ever wear it again.

I
smiled at her as I placed the milk and baby aspirin carefully on the bedside table. “What’s with all the other pills?” I asked.

S
he waved towards them dismissively, “things to help me sleep or for pain, vitamins and supplements and such.”

I
indicated the long noodle of a pillow she had beside her. “And that?”

S
he looked flustered, “It helps me sleep. Did you know that if you roll over on your back you’re more likely to snore?”

“Good to know,” I grinned.
“Want the window open?” I asked as I watched her take the pills and chase them down with the milk.

“Na
w, if some nasty man is going to try to come in through there he ought to make a proper job of it. I never did believe in enabling the morally handicapped.” She closed her eyes and I switched off the light, taking her empty glass to the kitchen. I stopped to scratch Mosey behind the ears. My poor boy was so out from exhaustion he just opened one eye, peered at me with some effort and fell back asleep. Obviously all of this extra activity was wearing him down. The revisit to his earlier trauma via the eye had probably put him in quite a PTSD tailspin. I laid my cheek against his jaw and patted him before heading upstairs.

W
ith just Mona here I needed to stay on my toes, I mused, I would have been better off alone. I paced around for a while, feeling as though I was guarding Mona, then I realized I was probably keeping her from sleeping when she hinted as much. “If you’re gonna stomp around all night would you at least take those boots off? Sounds like you’re riding a mule up there!” she hollered.

“Sorry Mona,” I yell
ed back.

“S
’alright,” she called back to me, “Nothing’s going to get you while I’m here. Now get in the bed! Don’t make me have to come up there!”

I
chuckled, hopping onto the bed quickly and the springs protested as I slid my boots off.

“Are you jumping on the bed
?” Mona yelled.

“Are you crazy
?” I shouted back in exasperation.

“Little bit sugar,” she chortled. “Little bit!”

I opened a drawer and got my old gym shorts and a tank tee shirt to wear to bed. I left my shoes close by the nightstand. I wasn’t expecting trouble, but with my elderly bodyguard, it wouldn’t hurt to be a little more prepared than usual.

I
slept restlessly and awoke with a start. I lay there listening for a moment, wondering if Mona had called to me or fallen out of bed or perhaps talked in her sleep. I lay there in the dark, eyes open to see if the sound would start again. It did. Footsteps were creaking on the floorboards of my front porch. Someone began to whistle a tune I recognized. I lay there, my muscles tensed and my veins beginning to ice over. I heard a click and my front door knob turn downstairs and the door made a yawning protest as it opened slowly. Had I really been that stupid and left the door unlocked? No; I remembered locking up. Besides, I was pretty sure I heard a click as the lock tumbled. Whoever was here had used a key, which was not hard to obtain given my carelessness with them and the fact I had several inside the house on a key holder.

I was certain it
was
a man; the man who had set the death scene in my tub. If he suspected I wasn’t here alone he would check the downstairs and find Mona. I heard the steps stop as the front door closed more softly. He stood in what passed for a foyer, a tiny area where you could choose right for the den or left for the bedrooms. He started whistling again, the Twisted Nerve tune.

M
ona could easily be asleep, with all those medications she took. I would have to do something about her.

Quietly
I slipped my shoes on and padded to peer over the half wall. I could barely make out his shadowy figure. I pulled back just as he began to raise his head to look up. Then I saw him turn back to the hall, which led to the bedrooms.

I
rose up quickly and turned on the light switch to divert his attention. The footsteps sounded slowly towards the loft stairs. I stood up. All the blood seemed to drain from me as I looked down and met his eyes. I realized some part of me had known it was Hugh for some time.

I
spoke up, “It's a little late to be popping in on an old colleague, and you've come empty handed to boot. One more vestige of etiquette gone,” I frowned, “where is the civility?”

H
e reached in his pocket and pulled out a knife flipping the blade up and out. “Not empty handed. I came over to do your eyes Gretchen. You know, like those surprise makeovers on the reality channel?”

“Both eyes is it now? My goodness, someone
isn’t very disciplined, you should stick to one routine. Wouldn't want your victim count to suffer and be attributed to someone else. You must be very proud of the number of women you've assaulted.”

“I keep track,” he said smiling up at me. “When I'm gone someday they
’ll find a list and the notoriety will follow. I can add you to my roster before midnight if you would just skip on down here.”

I grinned with a confidence I didn't feel.
“I
will
have to give you credit for one thing, you always did like to delegate. But you cannot actually conscript me into rushing into that knife.
I guess you're just going to have to come get me.”

“You aren't going to run
?” He looked disappointed.

I
tilted my head, looking him up and down before frowning apologetically. “No offense, Hugh, but you really don't look that fit. I can vanish before you hit the landing. I won’t be running as much as I will be outwitting and evading.”

H
e chuckled, “Then I really hope you hide, it's so much more satisfying when a woman is under a bed trying not to breathe too loudly when she hears me come into the room. Then the room goes dark and she shrieks and kicks as I pull her out by her ankles. It's exhilarating.

“
Every child has that nightmare at some point I believe. For you girls, I become the dream man; the nightmare in the flesh. Of course I get to leave the lights on for us. You’ll get to see me in action until the lights go out for good for you.”

“
You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

He rocked back and forth on his heels, his ha
nds behind his back as though he were speaking to a mildly interesting cocktail party guest. “Sometimes,” he said as though he was sharing a trade secret with me. “I like to stand in front of the bed, walk out and come back in just as she sighs with relief.”

“I
was different though.”

“
Yes,” he nodded seriously. “Up until that night I just used GHB. The urge wasn’t as frequent and I only gave into it when I traveled. “But with you?” He continued, “You were weakened, a little buzzed and I saw an opportunity. A whole new avenue opened up for me. I have a real taste for girls on the cusp of believing they have a glorious career ahead of them just before I derail their little fast track trains. And you were the worst; a little upstart bitch that needed to be put in her place.
But
I had counted on you to avoid the city after our little encounter. I didn’t like the idea of you continuing to turn up at the firm. You were making me uncomfortable.”

“Oh, well, we couldn’t have a degenerate criminal feeling uneasy could we?” I jibed.

He ignored that and went on. “To speed you on your way out the door I put a bottle of vodka and some pills in your office and left the drawer open one night. I asked a senior manager to go look for a file on your desk. I defended you when he reported what he discovered. That was a stroke of genius. You don’t mind me using the word stroke do you?” He gave an ugly laugh.

“I just mind you using the word genius,” I replied smoothly.
“And the eye thing?
Is it really just a classic warning to future victims not to look? Or is it some textbook psychology cliché, did Mommy turn a blind eye to your suffering?”

“I don't think you need to worry about that,” he hissed, “I didn't come here to be analyzed.”

“Maybe you came here to be circumcised, or even castrated. That would be nice for the men in prison, cut out the whole “top or bottom dilemma. I'm thinking I could get the knife from you and do a little surgery of my own. I dissected a frog before. It can't be that different, you’re a little slimier is all-”

He
interrupted me with a laugh, “Well, make it easier on us both, come on down!”

“
Query?” My tone was cool and courteous, “Why haven't you killed them all?”

“Gretchen, if it were up to me I wouldn't kill any of you, but if you can identify me, I have no choice
. It's actually pretty satisfying to think about them, all the women I leave alive. I think about how afraid they are walking down the streets alone, about the extra locks they buy, how they interact with lovers, and raise their daughters. I'm in their heads, for life. And the eye thing is just a nice touch for keeping the city on their toes. And you’re right; it also serves as a warning so I can leave them alive if they just obey.”

“
Gotcha,” I said, “but sorry, it doesn't always turn out that way. Sure, I had my fall from grace at Micheaux, but I'm actually tougher now. And my sex life?” I smiled dreamily then leaned over the loft wall to whisper conspiratorially, “It’s fantastic.”

He
shook his head, “Pretty good act, but explain why you dropped that cup in Dallas's office and turned white as a sheet when you heard me coming.”

“Oh,” I said nonchalantly “I really hadn't put it all together
yet; that was more of a visceral response. You must get this all the time: You're just so fucking creepy.”

He
laughed, “Language Gretchen, my word! I guess once you lost your job you no longer had to keep up any pretense of class. You know, every time you showed up or I heard you had been in the city I wanted to take another girl.”

“Yeah, must be awful to see
one of your victims defying you by getting back on her feet.”

“Don’t make me laugh, you’re a fucking maid.”

“Tsk, tsk, language Hugh!” I said mockingly, mirroring his rebuke. “I guess once you admit you’re a rapist you lose all pretense of class. But as long as we’re chatting, what was with the girl whose suicide you staged? Did you lock her in the closet? There were scuff marks and” I fought off a shudder, “other evidence.”

“As a matter of fact I d
id.” He wagged his finger at me in an incongruously light-heated gesture. “No one ever accused you of not being clever. But that was just a logistical error. She was a little harder to handle than I expected. I gagged her and tied her to the closet rod while I filled the tub. So much work,” he sighed, “but I try not to use the drugs on them close to home. Someone might tie them together and coupled with the lack of privacy nowadays when it comes to commercial travel, well…” he shrugged, “I thought she was out when I slit her wrists but the little bitch was playing possum and she tried to get away.”

I looked at him as though he was merely some tiresome guest overstaying his welcome
. For good measure, I drummed my fingers against the banister impatiently before speaking again. “Well, enough about them, let’s talk about me, since you had the poor judgement to stop in. It was pretty ballsy of you to come to my house though, and twice? What makes you think I don’t have a gun?”