Mixed Messages (A Malone Mystery) (27 page)

BOOK: Mixed Messages (A Malone Mystery)
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“Yeah. I can tell how much you love them. They’re wilted. You didn’t even care enough
to put them in water.”

“I didn’t have time
.
I was going to do that in a minute
.
I’m sorry.”

“Sorry
?
Sorry
?
You’re actually saying you’re sorry
?
That’s funny
because
it’s always me
.
My whole life it’s always been me
.
I always have to say I’m sorry, don’t I
?
Well, this time I’m not sorry
!
I’m done
!
I’m never saying ‘I’m sorry’ again!”

He
threw the rest of the roses down
kicking at
them
as he
stormed out the kitchen door
.
Ann heard his tires squeal as he backed out of the driveway and sped away
.
She put her hands over her face and cried.

“All I ever wanted was a happy family,” she sobbed aloud
.
“Why can’t we be a happy family?”

She
uncovered her eyes, wiped
away her tears and
stared
at the mess at her feet. After a
few minutes, s
he stooped down to pick up the twisted, broken roses, tossing them
piece by piece
into the garbage
can
.
There were petals, stems and leaves scattered everywhere
.
She pricked her finger on a thorn and blood oozed out
.
A horrible sense of impending doom came over
her
as s
he put her finger in her mouth and tasted blood, her own blood.

Chapter 2
6

 

DAVID LEFT THE HOUSE
and drove straight to the bar
.
He was so angry
.
He slammed his fist down on the dashboard.
The car swerved toward the curb. Quickly he straightened out the
steering
wheel.
How could Ann have
told Father Andrew
about
their problems, especially when his mother worked for the priest? How embarrassing
for his mother
! And
,
how could she have
talked about their personal business with a
therapist,
a
total stranger
?
And,
all
behind his back
!

S
ure
, they had
some
problems
.
Okay,
h
e
had
some
problems
.
He was willing to admit that but he didn’t want the whole world knowing about it
.
You don’t air your dirty laundry in public
.
His mother had taught him that
.
Well, I can’t work like this
.
I’ll just have one to calm down, he told himself, as he pulled into the nearly empty parking lot
of Whitey’s Tavern
.

As he yanked open the door and stepped inside
the bar
, he remembered coming here with his father when he was a little boy
.

“Gimme a Jack and Coke,” his father would bellow at the bartender,
plopping down on a stool and resting
his muscular arms on the bar
.
Then, he would
reach down,
pick
Davey
up and lift him onto
the
bar
stool
next to him
.
David remembered how his feet dangled from the stool
.
He wasn’t
nearly
tall enough yet to touch the floor
.

“Give the boy a soda pop,” his father always said, ruffling Dav
ey
’s blonde hair.

Dav
ey
sat there, not saying a word, for what seemed like a very long time, watching his father down one drink after the other and listening to the men talk about all kinds of things, grown up things, and taking it all in
.
His father had instilled in him early on that “children are to be seen and not heard
.”

“Got a good kid there,” the bartender said
,

q
uiet as a mouse.”

His father beamed down at him
.
“Yeah
,
Davey’s a good boy
.
Makes a father proud.”

Finally, he would
down the rest of his drink in a single gulp, set the glass on the counter and
announce, “Gotta go home now
.
Don’t want the old ball and chain getting all riled up
.
You know how women are
.”
He lifted Dav
ey
from the stool and set him down on the floor
.
“Now, remember,” he would say, patting his son’s head, “this is our little secret, Davey, my boy
.
It’s just between us guys
.
Your mother doesn’t need to know everything.”

David
went over
to an isolated corner booth, sat down and reached in his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter
.
His hands shook as he tried to light a cigarette
.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a man
,
wearing one of the bar’s logo tee-shirts,
approaching
his
booth.


How ya doin’ tonight, Dave?
What can I bring ya?” the man asked him.

“Jack and Coke,” David replied.

“Comin’ right up,” the man said as he turned and
headed
toward the bar.

Must be a new bartender,
David
thought
.
I don’t remembering seeing him before.
Then, how’d he know my name? he wondered.
He leaned back and took a deep drag of his cigarette
.
He
put
his cigarette in the ashtray and stared at his hands
.
They were shaking so badly
.
It was as if they were separate from his body; he had no control over them. This had been
happening more and more lately and it was starting to scare him.

The bartender brought
his
drink over and
began
to walk away
.
The second he set the glass down, David picked it up, using both hands
,
and guided it to his mouth
.
He gulped down the drink in seconds, cleared his throat loudly
to get the bartender’s attention
and, as the
man
turned back toward him,
he
raised his index finger to
indicate that he wanted to
order another drink.

He
sipped his second drink
.
He watched as a couple of the regulars came in and
headed
toward his booth
.
Damn, he thought, go away and, as if they could read his mind, the men turned around and headed for the bar.

I want to be left alone,
he
thought, but suddenly he wasn’t sure if he had just thought the words or if he’d actually said them aloud
.
The not knowing terrified him
.
What’s wrong with me? he wondered
.
Why am I even here
?
I’m supposed to be out
selling
.
And then, in a flash, he remembered the horrible scene with Ann
.
He saw the expression on her face and in her eyes
as he’d destroyed the roses he’d bought for her
.
She was afraid of me, he realized
.
My
own wife
was afraid of me
.
What kind of monster have I become
?

What’s happening to me? he silently asked himself
.
I feel like I’m falling apart
.
And my memory must be going too, he thought, recalling the conversation he’d had with his boss earlier in the day.

“How could you forget an appointment
?
You’re really screwing up lately.
One more like this, Kern, and you’re going to be looking for another job.”

He remembered how he’d stammered an apology
.
He was getting a headache, thinking about it
.
He’d felt like a fool
.
How
could
he forget an appointment
?
He never used to forget anything
.
And, what would happen if he lost his job? Ann and the kids depended on him to provide for them
.
I can’t let them down anymore than I already have, he thought
.
If only I had a lot of money
.
Money
.
It all boiled down to money
.
All of my problems would disappear if I just had plenty of money
.
But where was he going to get it
?
He leaned forward and put his face in his hands, massaging his throbbing temples
.

Two hours and several drinks later,
he
stood up and
staggered
to the bar
.
“Put ‘em on my tab,” he slurred
.
“David Kern
.”
He glanced up at the TV
,
which
hung from the ceiling behind the bar
. There, on the screen was the face of the Westwood Strangler’s
fourth
victim. The blonde-haired woman looked
so
familiar. Where do I know her from?
he
wondered.
He scratched his head; he couldn’t quite figure it out. “Oh well, doesn’t matter,” he mumbled, turning away.

As he headed for the door, he heard the bartender say, “Better go straight home
tonight
, buddy.”

David
had every intention of going
home but, when he got to his car and reached into his pocket to retrieve his keys, he pulled out a twenty
dollar bill with them
.
He stood there for several seconds, turning the bill over and over in his hands, trying to remember where he’d gotten the money
.
Finally, he shrugged his shoulders and whispered, “Well, I don’t know where you came from but I know where you’re goin’.”

After several attempts to insert his key into the lock,
he
managed to get the door open. He climbed in and started the car
, flipping on the headlights
.
I feel lucky tonight and, with all the money I’m gonna win, I’ll be able to quit that stupid job and take care of my family in style, he thought
,
as he backed out of the parking space and drove out of the lot, heading toward Indiana and the gambling boat.

Chapter 2
7

 

IT WAS AFTER TEN O’CLOCK
by the time Ann finished cleaning up the kitchen and got the kids to bed
.
Exhausted, she
lay
down on the living room sofa, picked up the remote control and turned on the TV
.
Not wanting to chance waking Danielle and Davey, she muted the volume as she flipped through the stations, looking for something to watch that would distract her from thinking about David’s outburst only a few hours earlier.

All evening, as she’d supervised the kids’ baths, read a bedtime story to Davey and finally tucked them both in and kissed them goodnight, she hadn’t been able to get it out of her mind
.
She shivered, remembering the look in David’s eyes
.
Pulling the collar of her flannel robe up to her chin, she closed her eyes but, when she did, all she could see was the pile of shredded red roses and her blood oozing out
.
What could I have done differently? she wondered
.
Why does everything I say and do provoke him?

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