Dark Eye (40 page)

“It did.”

“Started her alcoholism.”

He shrugged. “Certainly a contributing factor.”

“I know he was a detective. Worked with Granger.”

“Know anything about his death?”

He shrugged. “Police work is dangerous. I assumed he was killed in the line of duty.”

O’Bannon drew in his breath, then slowly released it. “The first part is right. The last part is wrong.”

“He didn’t-?”

“They’d been married eight years. Susan probably wasn’t the easiest person on earth to live with, but then David had a temper on him, too. They fought, but no one thought much about it. In a lot of ways, they were perfect for each other.”

“Chief, are you saying-”

“They had a big fight that day. Right here at headquarters. Everyone watching. He stormed out. And that was the last time we saw him.”

Patrick’s lips parted. “No.”

“Yeah.” He handed Patrick a thin file. “Put his weapon in his mouth and blew his brains out.” O’Bannon shook his head. “I guess he won that argument.”

I was sitting at a dinner table lit with candles. The soft, rosy glow cast a warm aura across the sumptuous spread. I felt all warm and snuggly.

“What happened?” I asked.

Rachel answered. “We found you, remember? In the desert. The police brought you back here.”

I turned my mind back, a mental process that produced physical pain. I remembered wandering around the desert, or trying. But my legs still didn’t work well and could only move a few feet at a time. Something had happened to my right leg, or maybe it was the lingering effect of the drugs. I couldn’t seem to remain conscious long enough to focus my thoughts. I was hungry. And thirsty. I had thought myself very noble when I poured the booze into the brink, but I later came to regret it. I needed to drink. I didn’t need a drink. There was a difference. I kept telling myself.

“I told you I was going to prepare a very special dinner,” Rachel said. “Don’t you remember any of this?”

“I-I-”

Another voice from down the table. “Surely you remember the kiss I gave you when you got home.”

It was Lisa. Lisa!

“I mean,” she continued, “I don’t normally go in for kissing chicks. But when my homegirl has been lost in the desert for damn near a week, that’s different. I kissed with wild abandon.”

“I hope this doesn’t mean you’re going to give me a nickname.”

“Well…”

“Or if you do, I want it to be Goddess.”

Lisa laughed. “Goddess it is.” She held up a platter. “I made my artichoke dip.”

I gasped. Lisa made awesome artichoke dip. Three different cheeses, mayonnaise, and oh yes I think there’s some artichoke in there somewhere. It is to die for. She hadn’t made it in months. I’d almost forgotten how good it was.

Rachel held out yet another platter. “Don’t forget the buffalo wings.”

I gazed down in ecstasy. Another favorite. With bleu cheese on the side, not ranch dressing like some lame-o joints served. “Did you make this?”

Rachel squirmed. “In a sense.”

“In what sense?”

“In the sense that I drove to Chili’s and picked it up.”

I laughed and pushed six of them onto my plate.

Lisa chirped up again. “Don’t forget the potato skins.”

“Potato skins? What kind of a meal is this, anyway?”

“All your favorite junk,” Rachel explained. “You deserve it.”

It was too good to be true. “What about the Shepherds? Will they be joining us?”

She shook her head. “They’ve given up the battle. NDHS, too. It’s sad that it took your being kidnapped for them to realize what a wonderful guardian-parent, really-you’ve been to me. They’ve all agreed that you should have custody.” She giggled. “I’m so glad, Susan. It’s what I’ve wanted all along. I’m coming home.”

“And… and the basketball? And that church group?”

“Oh, the Shepherds made me do that stuff. All I want is to be home with you.”

The flickering glow of the table filled me. I felt a warmth inside, a contentment. Something I couldn’t remember having felt for a long time.

Granger cleared his throat. “Susan, would this be a good time to tell you something I’ve wanted to say for a good long while?”

“Well, that depends…”

“I’m sorry. About the way I’ve behaved.”

“Oh, you haven’t-”

“Sure I have. I’ve been a regular bastard and I know it. I knew it when I was doing it. But I just-I just-”

“I know. David.”

“It’s not that. Not just that.” He sighed. “It’s because you’re such a good cop. And I know it. Hell of a lot better than I am. Smarter. I feel inferior around you.”

“You shouldn’t. Let it go.”

At the end of the table, one chair was empty. The place had been set. “Why isn’t someone there?” I asked.

“Because you haven’t decided,” Rachel said.

I gazed about the table. “Surely all this food isn’t for me.”

“Of course not.” Rachel laughed, then pointed.

David was sitting at the other end, facing me.

“You’re back,” I whispered.

“Surely you knew I couldn’t stay away for long.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

He seemed puzzled. “For what?”

“For helping me. Back in the desert. Helping me survive.”

“Oh. Well, there’s a problem with that.”

“Problem.” My heart raced. All of a sudden I couldn’t catch my breath. “What problem?”

“You see, Susan…” I knew he didn’t want to go on, but he did. He was always braver than I was. “You’re still in the desert.”

“I-I am?”

“Yes, honey.”

“But I can see you. And Rachel and Lisa. And all this food.”

“Because you’re starving.” He laid his hand gently on mine. “You’re dying, sweetheart.”

I opened my eyes. The sun blistered. I didn’t know where I was, found it painful to move. My naked skin was burned and scratched and bleeding. I had chills and sweated and shook.

I had never left the desert. I could hear the crashing of water, but it was more distant than it had been before. Why weren’t there any people around? Shouldn’t there be people? How long had I been wandering? Weak, exposed, lost. Broken.

Had David said I was dying? But I was already dead. Surely I was already dead.

She isn’t dead she isn’t dead she isn’t dead I don’t believe that she is dead Mom Mommy is dead and they wouldn’t tell me and everyone looked at me so sad and I didn’t know why and Uncle Braden smelled like rosewater but she couldn’t be dead because if she’s dead then it’s my fault and we won’t have babies and I won’t get to be a policeman and most of all I won’t get to see her and I like her I really really really like her she’s nice to me.

Why couldn’t I have read that message sooner?

DAM YOU IM ACELERATING YOUR EDUCATION YOURE NEXT SUSAN

Dad says I shouldn’t use words like that and I should forget I ever heard them and so I did forget and it took me longer for the letters to talk to me and the Bad Man took Susan. It’s my fault because I’m so stupid stupid stupid I’m a retard just like they say at Dad’s office I’m a stupid stupid retard.
Your mother can’t be with you anymore, Bambi.
This Bad Man is playing with us he likes to give us clues but we don’t know what they mean and he took Susan and we don’t know where and please let her still be alive please please please Mr. Strickland said that Jesus saves and Jesus protects so please take care of Susan and keep her alive.

DAM YOU IM ACELERATING YOUR EDUCATION YOURE NEXT SUSAN

Also if he spelled better it wouldn’t have taken so long and he made mistakes translating the words into code, too. He left out the apostrophes and he didn’t put a period at the end of the sentence and Mrs. Calloway in first grade said I should always put a period at the end of the sentence but I don’t think that way and she smelled moldy like she didn’t brush her teeth enough and he put in the wrong kind of
dam
I would’ve gotten it sooner if he checked his spelling.

Unless that’s the trick.

Dad! I need my dad or Patrick or someone I hate it when they make games with words I never get those stupid jokes because words just say what they say and he used the wrong one unless he meant to use the wrong one because he thought it was funny and maybe we can still help Susan maybe it’s not too late for Susan please don’t let it be too late for Susan please please please please please.

Why does everyone who’s nice to me have to go away?

“Paaaa-trick!” Before he could look up, a body fell across the desk, almost head-butting him in the process. It was Chief O’Bannon’s son, Darcy.

Madeline came running up behind him. “I’m sorry, sir. I told him you didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“It’s okay.” He helped the young man off his desk. “Haven’t seen you in days.”

For once, Darcy’s conversation was remarkably direct. “I know where she is.”

Patrick felt a deep sadness in his heart. He knew the boy had a crush on Susan. Even if he wasn’t physically demonstrative, his devotion couldn’t have been more evident. Given his preexisting emotional fragility, her disappearance must be tearing him up. “Did you have a dream about her?”

“I know where she is! I figured it out.”

“I’m sure you did.”

Darcy grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “Did you know that in World War II the Allies invented a code that could only be solved if you had a special machine because they used hidden cells and multiple substitutions and-and-” His voice began to break up, like it was tumbling into a funnel. “Did you know that these codes are impossible to solve and that must be why the Bad Man used it when he wanted to say something that we wouldn’t get until it was too late?”

Patrick didn’t know what to do. If this were a normal man, he’d think he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. With an autistic, he didn’t know what it meant. Except that he needed help. “I know you’re good with codes. You figured out what Edgar’s warning said-”

“But not what it meant!” Darcy flapped his hands, rocking back and forth. He broke away from Patrick and circled around the desk, again and again, with increasing speed. “My dad says I don’t get jokes.”

“Well, sometimes I’m not the quickest-”

“But I do! I do get jokes. Maybe I don’t think they’re funny, but I know when people are kidding, some of the time. I knew when the other kids were making fun of me.”

“Darcy-”

“But I hate puns. Why should one word have more than one meaning? It’s confusing and it doesn’t make any sense.”

His agitation was intensifying. Half the office was watching now. Out of the corner of his eye, Patrick saw Madeline go for Chief O’Bannon, probably thinking he was the only one who could get the boy under control. “Darcy, I think the best thing would be for you to go home now. Get some rest. If anything happens-”

“You thought he spelled it wrong!” Darcy shouted. “But he didn’t spell it wrong. He’s too smart for spelling wrong. It was a clue.”

“What?”

“About
dam.
‘Damn you.’ But he left off the
n.
Because he didn’t mean that kind of dam.”

“As I recall, he misspelled a couple of words.”

“To fool us. He’s smart and tricky. You said so in your paper. ‘The subject is possessed of extraordinary intelligence and imagination.’ So why would he misspell words?”

Despite Darcy’s convoluted, histrionic manner, Patrick was beginning to grasp his point. “Are you saying-?”

Darcy climbed up on the desk chair and began jumping up and down. “She’s at a dam! He took her to a dam!”

O’Bannon appeared at the top of the stairs. “Come on, Darcy. Let’s go home.”

“She’s at a dam! You have to go and find her!”

Somehow, O’Bannon managed to drag his son away, apologizing to everyone as they passed. Darcy kept on screaming. He looked back, his hands stretched toward Patrick.

“Go to the dam! Go to the dam!”

Patrick fell back into a desk chair. Was it possible?

Hoover was the closest and most famous dam, but hardly the only one. How could they know? It was probably nonsense. He couldn’t take tips from a hysterical autistic boy. Surely they weren’t that desperate. If there was any chance of finding her, it would only come from good solid detective work. Surely.

“You aren’t real,” I said as I ran my fingertips down David’s perfectly sculpted chest.

“Does it matter?” he replied. “I’m the only game in town.”

I laughed and pulled him closer. “Do that thing.”

“What thing?”

“You know. That thing you do.”

“With… what part of my body?”

“Your nose, silly.” I laughed. I loved it when he was like this, all tender and attentive. Happy. No moods, no complaints, just him and me. “The way you crinkle it.”

“I do not crinkle my nose. That’s a girl thing.”

“You do. Sometimes.”

“I do not.” He pressed against me, letting me feel the ripple of his rib cage, his strong thighs pressing between mine. Letting me remember how it was before…

And then he took me. All in a rush, the way I liked it best, the way that always gave me goose pimples. Orgasm was nothing compared to the creeping, dizzying head rush that hit when he came after me like that. It was all I could do to breathe, to prevent myself from perishing from a surfeit of pleasure.

“Susan?”

I blinked rapidly. That wasn’t David.

A shadow fell across my face. “I’m sorry it took us so long.”

“Patrick…” I grinned a little. “Could you wait a minute? My husband and I were having a thing…”

He put his hand on my forehead. “Why didn’t you stay where Edgar left you?”

“I wanted to stay. David told me I should go.”

“David?”

“That’s what Edgar wanted, you know. He wanted me to stay at that place and he wanted-well, he didn’t get it. I wouldn’t give it to him.”