Secret Sister (21 page)

The detectives left and I shut the door. I wanted to lock it. But Michael was still inside, and I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea.

I frowned at him. “What the hell? God, I don’t need you acting like a pit bull.”

“Pricks.” Michael grabbed Morales’ card from my hand, tore it in half, and stuck it in his jeans. “He’s looking for trouble, that asshole. And more.”

“Stop it, Michael. They were just doing their jobs.”

“Bullshit. They’re looking to get their names in the newspaper or something. And that Mexican was checking you out the whole time.”

“He wasn’t checking me out.” But of course he was. I sighed and walked to the dining table. “So you brought food? Thank you. Can we eat some of it now?”

“Sure, we could do that.” He walked toward me. “Or we could work up our appetites a little bit more. I told my brother I wouldn’t be back to work until after five, so we’ve got time for a three or four course meal, if you get my drift.” He pulled me against him.

I averted my face and reached around him for a carton of food. “Would you grab a couple of plates and forks from the kitchen?”

He let go of me. “Okay. I got your favorite at Jade Garden, egg foo young. You sure you want to eat now, or would you rather have a little ‘me lick you?’”

“Not funny.” I inhaled the fragrance of the food. Despite my frayed nerves, it smelled good.

“Ah, come on, you know that was funny.”

“Just get the plates, okay?” I tried to push away the new worries I had about the detectives enflaming Nick’s feelings about Roxanne, but they hovered.

I concentrated on the questions I wanted Michael to answer, the reason I’d invited him in the first place. I’d spent the better part of the last day and night going over what I wanted to learn from him before I could talk to Nick about what Betty had revealed. I envisioned sitting Michael down and having a serious discussion with him, mining some important information.

I hadn’t counted on him being as frisky and completely self-absorbed as he was. Jeez, what had Roxanne ever seen in him? I flashed on the image of having sex with him on the floor a few days ago.

Okay, he was great at that. But he was all technique and no feeling. You would never be
making love
with Michael. It would always be screwing.

I felt a rush of pity for Roxanne, replaced by anger so strong I felt my skin flush; suddenly furious at her for all her bad choices. Her secrets. The possibility she’d slept with my husband. But most of all, right then I was overwhelmed with missing her, and mournful I would never have her to talk to again.

I moaned softly and blinked back tears.
Stay in the present.
I couldn’t let my sorrow ruin this chance to talk to Michael.

He brought in plates, utensils, and a bottle of soda and sat down. “Talking about your piece of crap car reminds me.” He spooned a huge helping onto his plate. “What about a new ride? Are you ready to come pick one out? What are you going to get for the payoff on the Camry? About six thou?” He broke the chopsticks apart and rubbed them furiously together, then attacked the food on his plate.

“I’m not ready to pick out a car.” I put a spoonful of steamed rice on my plate, my stomach in a knot. I couldn’t remember when I last ate. “And the insurance company hasn’t settled everything yet.” A lie.

“Really?” Michael slurped in a mouthful of noodles and frowned. “Before the detectives showed up, I figured the accident claim was settled. I guess when someone dies, it complicates the paperwork.”

“That’s probably it.” I opened the soda. “How’s it going, Michael? I haven’t heard from you much since you dropped in a few days ago.”

“Hey, I called you a hundred times, babe. But I have been busy. How you feeling?” He reached out and caressed my arm. “You still look a little ragged.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh come on, Roxanne. Even with a hangover and your hair needing some work, you’re the best-looking chick in the state.” Despite this backhanded compliment, he looked guilty.

I wondered suddenly how many other women he was currently bedding. Michael Cimino wasn’t good at hiding the truth. Not too handy for a salesman. Or a cheating boyfriend. But it made for a good bet he’d reveal some hard facts.

“I appreciate you making time to come over today. I need to ask you some things.”

“Sure. Anything, babe.” He grabbed the dumplings and plopped them beside the noodles.

I stared at them. They looked like fetuses. “What happened with us late last year? Before Christmas? I know we broke up, but can you tell me why?”

He squinted at my face, and then at my plate. “How come you’re not eating?”

“I’m not hungry,” I said. “Are you stalling? Don’t you want to tell me what went on between us?”

He speared a dumpling. “Try some egg foo. That’ll get you into it.”

“Come on, Michael. Talk to me.”

“You’re as bad as those fucking cops.” He put down his fork. “Okay, you and I had a disagreement about where our relationship was headed, so we took a break. I started seeing Sheila Baker, that hot blonde in the Pasadena store.” He lifted his eyebrows to see if I remembered her, then shrugged. "Anyway, that was pretty much it. I didn’t hear from you until February. Around Valentine’s Day. You sent me a giant chocolate chip cookie that said ‘Eat Me’ and I came right over. And we worked things out. Five or six times.” He grinned.

I frowned. None of this sounded the least bit familiar. I remembered Rox telling me she and Michael were taking a break from one another. Then she got her apartment painted, and came to stay with Nick and me for a week. She said she and Michael were on the outs, but I didn’t remember anything else.

Valentine’s Day was a complete blank. “So you broke up in November?”

“What do you mean ‘you broke up?’” Michael asked. “
We
broke up. Yeah. Before Thanksgiving. I remember, because Sheila came to my mom’s for the holiday with me.” He shook his head. “Boy, they didn’t get along at all.”

“Sorry to hear that.” I rolled my eyes.

“No problem.” Michael picked up a spoon and shoveled more food onto his plate. “So you’re saying you don’t remember any of this? Even the cookie?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Humph. It was good. Soft and sweet, just like you.”

“Michael.” I touched his arm. “This is going to sound weird, but I need to ask you about something Betty said.”

“Who?” he interrupted.

“Betty. Betty Haverty. My mother.”

“Yeah, okay. Why are you calling her Betty?”

“I just am. Look, she said I implied that I was seeing someone else last year. After you and I broke up. Do you know if that’s true?”

Michael stopped eating. A shadow passed across his dark eyes. He licked the tips of his fingers. “What are you asking me, Rox? What the fuck exactly are you asking me?”

A tickle of fear skittered through my stomach. “I know it’s a weird question. But was I dating someone else last year?”

“Goddammit!” He slapped the box of dumplings with the back of his hand and the food flew off the table and smashed against the wall, leaving several greasy drips running toward the floor. He glowered at me.

I was stunned. I had no idea, ever, from Roxanne that Michael had a physical side to his temper.

“I don’t
believe
you.” He pushed away from the table. “Are you asking me if I knew you were fucking someone else? How the hell do you think that makes me feel?” He grabbed my arm. “I told you when we got back together that you were never, ever to bring up your little action on the side. I don’t need you rubbing my nose in the fact you sucked some other guy’s dick! So don’t be asking me questions, pretending not to remember. That’s bullshit.
You remember
. And you better remember I would have killed the cocksucker that knocked you up if I knew who it was.”

There it was. It was true. Roxanne
had been
pregnant.

My heart pounded so loud I could hardly hear my thoughts. “Let go of my arm.”

Michael’s eyes bulged and he squeezed tighter for a second, but let go of me.

He got up and stared at his plate and then pushed it off onto the floor. He pointed at me. “Pretty convenient to forget that shit. Just so you can see me get jealous again. You like to make me mad, don’t you?”

“No.”

“Bullshit. You saying you don’t remember your boyfriend? Or that you had an abortion, all without telling me anything about it for months?”

“I don’t remember that.” I wrapped my arms around myself protectively. “Any of it.”

“You don’t remember? Or you still don’t want to tell me who it was?” Michael’s head nodded up and down, faster with each move, like a teakettle getting up a head of steam. “Well, I tell you, babe, I think I know who it was. And believe me, if I ever find out for sure, that married son of a bitch is going to be sorry.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “The guy was
married
?”

“Yeah. And that’s not the only fucking thing you told me about him.” With his face pinched and angry, Michael no longer looked the least bit handsome. “You were a real cunt bragging about how big his cock was, and how his muscles turned you on, and that he left bruises on your sweet ass where he squeezed you when he fucked you.”

I stared at Michael, speechless with shock and this crude verbal battering. How could Roxanne have put up with this? How could she have shut me out of so much of her life? I was also stunned Roxanne had behaved so ruthlessly with Michael. But I had no doubt what he said was the truth.

He’d hurt her, and she’d given the same treatment right back to him.

“I’m not trying to piss you off, Michael. But just so I understand, you think it’s okay you had a fling with a girl in your office, but Roxanne couldn’t see anyone else?”

“Oh, you’re referring to yourself in the third person again? Yeah, it was wrong for ‘Roxanne’ to see anyone else because she always said she loved ‘Michael.’ But when ‘Roxanne’ decided to act like a slut, ‘Michael’ decided to give her a taste of her own medicine. So I went out with Sheila to show you I could. That bitch didn’t mean anything to me. You know you and I were meant to be together, Roxanne. We broke up a lot, but we always end up back together. It’s in the cards.” He reached out and poked me hard in the arm.

I flinched and Michael looked embarrassed. He picked the plate off the floor. “When I heard you were in the accident, I thought I would die. Did you know that? I told my brother I’d blow my brains out if you didn’t make it.”

I stared at him. Sitting here this close to a man I thought I had known for years, I realized I hadn’t known him at all.

The greater shock was that it appeared I hadn’t known Roxanne very well, either.

“Did you sleep with Cathy?” I blurted out.

Michael jerked like I’d slapped him. “What? When?”

“When? Ever! Like at the beach. A few months before the accident.”

He shook his head slowly. “Shit. Did she tell you that? I can’t believe she told you.”

“Did you?” I was afraid. More afraid than any time I could ever remember. Not of Michael. For all his bluster and badass attitude, he was not a threat to me. I was afraid of myself,
me
, Cathy. What had I been capable of? What had I done?

“Did you?” I repeated.

“Did I what? Fuck Miss Goody two shoes?” Michael yelled. “Maybe I did. But whatever, if I did it wouldn’t matter now any more to me than jerking off. You’re the one I want, Roxanne. Don’t you know that yet? Cathy Chance, and the rest of those girls, none of them could ever mean anything to me.”

I wanted to scream. “Get out. For good this time, Michael. I don’t ever want to see you here again.”

“Oh, Christ.” He rolled his eyes and then threw the dinner plate against the tile floor again, followed by mine. They banged and bounced and rolled off into separate corners of the kitchen, food splattering everywhere.

“Stop it!” I covered my ears with my hands. “Stop it and get out!”

“I’ll go, but you better get some more help, because you’re a fucking nut case. I’m through dealing with you. Call me if and when you can handle things like a real woman.”

With that endearment, he stalked out of the room. A few moments later the front door slammed. I ran to lock it and then stood hyperventilating, my face pressed against the cold surface. And suddenly, I remembered it all . . . the beach, the night, the sand grinding into my skin.

I felt Michael’s half-hard penis pushing against my naked inner thigh. “Stop,” I had said, pressing against his chest with my fists. “Don’t. We can’t do this. Stop it, Michael.”

“You’re nothing but a goddamned prick teaser, Cathy Chance,” he’d mumbled. “I should do you anyway just to show you what you’re missing.”

“Rape, Michael? Really? I’m saying no, and I mean it. I’ll call the police if you don’t get the hell off me now!”

“Bitch.” He rolled off me then, and I scrambled up and into my clothes.

“Take me home,” I had called out over my shoulder.

He followed me to the car. We rode without saying a word to one another, the smell of liquor and disappointment and fear all around us, punctuated by Rox snoring in the backseat. I didn’t understand at that moment why I had weakened and given in to my longtime lustful urge to see what Michael was all about sexually.

But now, all these months later, I did understand. Because as I stood leaning against the door for dear life, I remembered what had happened the same morning of that beach encounter.

Nick and I had a vicious fight, something unusual for us. He was packing to leave on business and had made a surprising remark. “I think it’s time we thought hard about having a baby.”

I’d replied, “I don’t. I think it’s time you quit your job at the insurance company and took a stab at the career you’ve always wanted.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Music. Being a DJ. Come on, Nick, you haven’t mentioned it in a while, but I thought we were on the same page, that you were going to give this a real try before it’s too late. You know how unhappy you are with your job.”

He looked away from me. “That’s out of the question. I’d make next to nothing, and if we’re going to have a baby, we need stuff like my insurance and benefits. And some discipline.”