Last Night (27 page)

He put his arm around her, unsure of what to say. He recalled how he
'
d screwed up. And the devastating results.

"
What do you mean?
"

He didn't want to resurrect his past. He wanted her to see him as someone to lean on. Aw, hell, he wasn't perfect. Pretending he was had gotten him in trouble last time, but he wasn
'
t going to make that mistake again. Dana meant too much to him.

"
I resigned from the police force because I was a coward.
"
He responded to her shocked expression with a curt nod. "That
'
s right. I
'
d been touted as a hero, but I was a coward. Honey, you were just a little girl. No one would call you a coward.
"

"
I don
'
t believe you
'
re a coward, not the way you went after those
mokes.
"

"When that prostitute accused me of rape I should have brought it out into the open and fought it, but I didn
'
t. I'd been the golden boy for so long that I thought things would work out. It
'
s taken me a long time to admit the truth. You
'
re the first person I've talked to about this. It hurts to have you
know I was a coward, but it
'
s done and nothing can change it.
"

"
You were in a difficult position. You—
"

"There are always excuses. I accept the truth and so should you.
"

Dana mulled over his words for a moment. "You want the truth
…
the whole truth?
"
Her tone re
flected her pain and her tremendous strength of will. "Hank had raped Vanessa and was forcing her down again, when I summoned my courage and grabbed the rabbit-skinning knife off the hook.
"
She looked Rob directly in the eye. "Hank didn
'
t fall on the knife. I stabbed him in the back.
"

24

D
ana stared out her bedroom window at the palms etched in deep shadows against the moonlit sky. The curtains fluttered in the breeze. Fragrant plumeria scented the darkness, mingling with the loamy, earthy smell of the tropics. Usually she loved nights like this when the full moon—a lovers
'
moon—cast its magic on Koko Head, but not tonight.

She missed Rob already. After she
'
d explained what really happened to Hank Rawlins, Rob had consoled her, insisting she
'
d had no choice. Then he
'
d left for the airport, determined to get to Gomper
'
s Bend and find Slade Carter, Vanessa
'
s old boyfriend.

Rawlins got what he deserved. You had no other choice.

Rob's words had been reassuring-—at the time. Now, though, alone in her bed, she had her doubts. How could she have killed another human being? She
'
d kept the memory of what she
'
d done locked a
way for years. She wondered how
she had stepped
up to the bench day after day and had the nerve to pass judgment on others.

How could she? No matter what her reasons, she had killed a man. She didn
'
t deserve to be a judge.

The scene she
'
d blocked out for so many years still had the power to ruin her life. As the long-dead memories emerged, Dana relived that terror-filled night when she'd been fourteen.

Huddling in the corner of the filthy shed, immobilized by fear, she watched Hank assault Vanessa.
Why did you scream?
she asked herself. After Hank had attacked her he
'
d kept her locked in the shed for hours while he drank whiskey. If only she
'
d kept her mouth shut, Vanessa wouldn
'
t have come to help her.

Vanessa
'
s whimpering cries filled the shed. Though her young mind was barely functioning, Dana realized Hank intended to kill them. He
'
d told her that no one was ever going to find out what he
'
d done. She couldn't let him kill them.

"Mommie-e-e, help me!" cried Vanessa.

Her sister
'
s plea echoed in Dana
'
s brain—an incantation to the dead. Since their parents
'
deaths Vanessa had been so brave, being both mother and sister to Dana.
But now Dana knew the truth. Va
nessa had been afraid too. Her sister was just a girl in a woman's body.

For the first time Dana truly realized they had no one but themselves. She scanned the room, searching for something—anything—to use as a weapon. Then she
'
d spotted the rabbit knife.

Looking back over the span of twenty years, Dana realized she would have done the same thing all over again—only sooner.
Justice.
Sometimes it was a four-letter word. She truly believed Hank had gotten what he deserved. But she—and Vanessa—were still paying for his crime.

Rob had been right when he
'
d said they didn
'
t trust men because they associated all men with Hank Rawlins. Dana closed her eyes, blocking out the moonlight, but not the wellspring of emotion she
'
d kept hidden for so many years. Yes, if it happened all over again she
'
d grab the knife—before Hank got to Vanessa, before her sister suffered his brutal assault the way she had.

The shrill sound of a siren startled Dana and she sat bolt upright in bed, memories of the past still swirling through her brain. Shouts came from the street, but she couldn
'
t tell what they were saying. Dana charged to the window and yanked back the curtain. An ambulance was next door.

"
Oh, my God! Something
'
s happened to Lillian.
"

It took her a few seconds to throw on a robe and dash outside. By that time the paramedics were bringing out a gu
rn
ey. Red then white, red then white, red then white flashed the strobe light of the ambulance as the body was brought out, draped in a white sheet. Two police cars were parked nearby, bursts of static and dispatch calls punctuating the stillness.

"No, no!
"
Dana cried. She pulled back the sheet.

Lillian
'
s face was an unnatural parchment color, yet
peaceful, her lips curved into a suggestion of a smile.

"Oh, Lillian, no.
"
Dana stared at the woman who
'
d loved her like a daughter. Something inside Dana broke, and a sob rose from her throat, a requiem of unparalleled sadness. She should have done more for Lillian, spent more time with her.

The EMT replaced the sheet and Dana said a silent farewell. A surge of guilt brought with it the weight of her loss, knowing she'd never see Lillian again. She
'
d never be able to share anything with her. How vividly she recalled the pride in the older woman
'
s eyes when Dana spoke about one of her cases. A mother's pride. Yes, that's all Lillian ever had wanted to be—a loving mother.

From the shadows Dana saw Lillian
'
s daughter, Fran, glaring at her. Normally she would have gone to console the woman, but Dana didn
'
t trust her temper. She turned to Dr. Winston, who was standing nearby. "How did it happen?
"

"Fran called to say her mother wasn
'
t feeling we
ll. I came right over. Just as I
got here Lillian had a severe stroke,
"
Dr. Winston replied. "No one could have saved Lillian. I found her pill case in the bathroom. It's been days since she
'
d taken her medication. Her blood pressure was in the stratosphere.
"

"Her daughter should have—
"

"
Lillian never told Fran that she needed those pills." Dr. Winston shrugged, his eyes on the ambulance as it pulled away. "I can
'
t image why Lillian didn't mention it.
"

"She wanted to die,
"
Dana whispered, more to herself than the doctor. "She wanted to pass away here, among the things she loved, in the home she and her husband had built—where she
'
d been happy. She was terrified of dying, lonely and forgotten, in some horrible nursing home.
"

And she didn't trust me to help her.
Her sense of guilt went beyond words, beyond tears. She
'
d failed dear Lillian, failed her miserably.

Long after the ambulance had driven off, Dana stood at the curb, her eyes fastened on the curve in the road where the taillights had disappeared. She hardly heard the police cars pull away or Dr. Winston say good-bye. All she could think about was Lillian.

A dear friend. Almost her mother.

She trudged up the steps to her home, her heart unbearably heavy. As she passed through the living room the flashing light on her answering machine caught her eye. Rob, she thought, then realized it was just after midnight. He
'
d promised to call when he changed planes in Los Angeles, but he wouldn
'
t be there until morning. She punched the buttons and heard Vanessa
'
s voice.

"Garth has arranged a meeting with the Coltranes and their attorney for tomorrow at four.
"
There was a strange upbeat quality to her sister's voice. "Garth wants to settle this before it gets to court. Can you be at his office about half an hour
early? There's something I have to explain to you before Garth and I fight the Coltranes.
"

Garth and I? Well, well, it sounded as if they were becoming very fri
endly. At least Vanessa was pre
pared to fight Big Daddy. After the
mokes
had stolen the tapes Dana hadn
'
t been certain Vanessa would risk it.

But what about me? Dana wondered. Where did she fit into her sister
'
s life? She
'
d been conscious of a growing rift that she seemed powerless to overcome. She
'
d thought that Vanessa
'
s leaving the Col
tranes would bring them closer. Now she wasn
'
t so sure. What had come between them?

"
My career came between us,
"
she said as she dropped into bed. A sigh that seemed to well up from the bottom of her soul filled the room. She
'
d made the same mistake with Lillian, she realized with growing alarm. She hadn
'
t spent enough time with the people who counted.

Tears soaked the pillow as she mourned for Lillian until she finally fell asleep, carried into the unconscious world of her dreams by sheer exhaustion. For two nights now she
'
d had almost no sleep. She only dozed, awakened by images of the past and haunted by the present.

A noise brought her out of yet another disturbing dream. She sat up in bed and listened. There it was again.
Thump-thump-thump-thump
. It sounded like —but it couldn't be—the night marchers. Now in the darkest hours just before dawn Lillian
'
s prophetic warning echoed in her ears.
The night marchers are coming for you next.

"You
'
re going
'
round the bend, Dana,
"
she whispered to herself. "Next you
'
ll be seeing ghosts.
"
She swung out of bed and silently padded down the hall toward the noise. In the yard shadows danced, made even deeper by the full moon. She squinted into the darkness and the noise stopped. Outside on her
l
anai a small shadow darted toward the kitchen door.
Thump-thump-thump.

Not the night marchers, but a cat. It wasn
'
t just any cat, she saw as a shaft of moonlight hit orange fur. Lillian's cat, Molly. She opened the lanai door and called, "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty."

Molly bounded over and rubbed her long fur against Dana
'
s legs. She meowed twice, a deep, throaty sound that brought unexpected tears to Dana
'
s eyes. She picked up the cat, thinking that Molly had never once come to her door until now.

The cat
'
s collar with a small bell to warn birds was missing. Lillian would never have taken it off. Fran must have removed the collar and its identifying tags. She wasn
'
t even going to take her mother
'
s cat to the Humane Society, Dana thought, disgusted. She
'
d turned Molly loose to fend for herself.

"
Would she do that to you?
"
she asked the kitty. "Let
'
s find out.
"

Guided by the moonlight, she left the house and walked the short distance across the backyard to Lillian
'
s door, the cat tucked in her arms. The house was dark except for the blue-white light of the television in the den. Dana bent low and tested the lower half of the door. The pet door was bolted shut.

"
Never mind,
"
she whispered to Molly.
"
Lillian wanted me to have you.
"

She tiptoed down the path that she
'
d so often taken between their homes, knowing that this would be her last trip. Her beloved friend was gone.

I
'
ll be with the
menehunes,
watching over you.
Lillian
'
s parting wor
ds were nothing more than a mur
mur in the rustling palms.

"
Lillian told you where to come, didn't she?
"
Dana stroked Molly
'
s soft fur. She smelled of jasmine from playing in the bushes. Deep in the cat
'
s throat a low rumble of a purr began, accelerating with each stroke of Dana
'
s hand. She knew she was being maudlin and even slightly irrational. Still, she couldn't seem to help herself.

The weight of the loss, knowing she
'
d never see Lillian again, swept through her. She
'
d never be able to share anything with her again. Pain reverberated through her, a keening cry from the depths of her soul. Death was terrifyingly final. There
'
d be no more star-filled tropic nights for Lillian, no more walks on the beach, no more working in the garden, no more petting
Molly's silky fur. No more any
thing.