Sunrise in a Garden of Love & Evil (23 page)

"What view?" Art protested, and then a waiter dressed in nothing but a loincloth came by to offer drinks. She stammered out, "Rum and Coke," and when the waiter and his pecs and his bare ass had lounged away, she blurted, "This is one of the
respectable
clubs?"

"No one underage, no one gets hurt," Constantine said. "Apart from that, there aren't a lot of rules."

"There's only one table left," Art said. "What if there's no room when they get here? And I still don't see how--"

The house lights dimmed, a row of spots at the back of the stage flicked on, and a tiger-striped couch was rolled onto the stage by two hulking, almost-naked men, one of whom was Darby Sims. A cheer rose. Darby and the other guy saluted the audience with a bump of their bare butts and strolled away into the wings.

Art made a tiny whimpering sound. She flicked her eyes to Ophelia, who shrugged and laughed. A few seconds later, Darby returned with leopard-skin chairs and stools. The music segued into a low bump and grind. In the rear, a female voice piped up. "Take it off, take it
all
off!"

Darby grinned, raised his beautifully-defined arms over his head, and languidly humped the room as a whole. Then he turned his magnificent rear to the audience and sauntered away.

"Oh, my Lord in Heaven," Art said reverently. "Dar has the world's most beautiful butt."

Their drinks appeared, and so did Darby and the other guy with more props. Again. And again. Ophelia drummed her fingers on the table and sipped her Cosmopolitan. Art dragged her eyes away from Darby's nether regions long enough to take a huge swallow of rum and Coke. She choked out a question. "Why's he working in the theater? Gideon said he got a job as a tattoo artist!"

"Not till next week, so he's temping as a stagehand for a night or two," Constantine said.

"I don't
believe
this," Art whispered. "How can he be so comfortable, almost naked, with all these people watching?" She chugged some more rum and Coke.

"He part-timed at a club in Atlanta as an exotic dancer," Constantine said. "That's where he met Johnny and Marissa Parkerson. My sources are more thorough than Vi's."

"How come I never knew?" She raised her mug again.

"Better nurse that drink, Art," Constantine said. "You too, Ophelia."

Ophelia cuddled her Cosmopolitan. "It relaxes me. I'm nervous as hell."

"This makes you nervous?" Art's eyes dimmed as Darby left the stage and the emcee came on. "I'm not sure
what
it makes me. I could watch Dar forever."

Ophelia said around the red straw in her drink, "Your boyfriend-to-be does have an excellent ass."

"Hey," Art said. "Keep your eyes to yourself! His ass belongs to
me
!" Even in the dim light, her blush was vivid. "I can't believe I said that." She glared at her empty glass as if it had done her wrong.

Ophelia hardly noticed the transvestite song-and-dance routine that opened the show. What should she say to Gideon when they next met? If he didn't really suspect her, if he didn't want to arrest her, she still had to explain herself to him, explain why she wasn't safe. Either that, or reject him for good. "Don't do either," Constantine had said on the ride to pick up Art. "Start a new life." But it wasn't that simple or that easy. Constantine should understand that, if anyone.

More drinks came. The trannies pranced off the stage, and Art gazed hopefully at the wings. No Darby. Another revue--this time an abundance of T and A--swung on in their wake.

"Ah." Constantine motioned his chin toward the doorway, where Reuben hovered with Marissa hanging adoringly on his arm. Reuben and Constantine had hardly locked eyes before Constantine's dropped to his drink. "Don't watch them. I don't want her to see me yet." Reuben steered his date toward the empty table.

Art groaned. "Constantine's going to terrify that poor woman by just looking at her."

So that was it.
I really do have no choice,
thought Ophelia.

"I hate this," Art said. "She's not even with Dar tonight. I wish I'd got up the nerve to ask Dar out myself."

"I'm not doing this because of you," Constantine said. "She was never Darby's girlfriend. She hired him to look for Johnny, because he was coming here anyway." He turned to Ophelia. "Look her way. Be sultry."

Ophelia fidgeted with the little red straw. "You are so brutal sometimes."

"Uh-huh," Constantine agreed. Damn him.

"Marissa needs to know whether her husband's dead or alive," Ophelia said. "Maybe she has insurance money coming. Maybe she wants to marry again."

"I can't tie up everybody's loose ends," Constantine said. "Throw out a bit of allure. Enough so she sees you, but don't start a riot." When Ophelia still hesitated he said, "This is for you as much as for me, babe. Do it."

Oh, hell. Ophelia obeyed, turning it up slowly, hating how heads turned her way. Just as the act ended, a startled cry sliced into the room.

"What's
she
doing here?" Marissa whimpered. "I don't like this place." She half-rose, but Reuben's solicitous arm went around her shoulders and pushed her gently into her seat. Every man in the room and half the women stared at Ophelia. A man at the next table forgot his date entirely and surged forward, but stumbled back in a hurry when Constantine spun his way. Art wrapped her arms around herself and looked miserable.

Ophelia said, "Good enough?" and returned grumpily to her Cosmopolitan. "Damn it, Constantine, I'm trying to think. I have a decision to make."

Constantine pried the drink from Ophelia's grip and signaled to the waiter. "What decision? You're head over heels for the dude." He glanced sideways at Marissa, leaning now into Reuben's protective embrace. "We'll let her stew for a while."

Art said, "I wish I could go home." She took another swallow of her drink. "I wish I could go home with Dar."

Ophelia retrieved her Cosmopolitan and guzzled some more. Constantine took it away again. "Cool it," he said quietly. "You've already decided in Gideon's favor and know it."

"You should marry him," Art said. "I need to marry Dar."

"Not
that
decision," Ophelia said. "I have to
tell
him."

"You haven't told him you love him?" Art bit her lip. "I need to tell Dar, but I'm so scared."

"For God's sake, why?" Constantine rolled his eyes. "Let it go and move on."

"Let him go?" Art said. "I haven't even got him yet." She drooped over her drink. "If he doesn't love me back, I
will
have to move on."

"What if I end up marrying him?" Ophelia said. "I won't be able to live with myself."

"You won't have to live with yourself," Art giggled. "You'll live with Gideon. Happily ever after."

Constantine blew out an incredulous breath. "Do what you have to. It's your funeral, babe."

"Hey," Art said, "I'm a modern woman. I won't die just because some gorgeous dumbass doesn't love me." Tears trickled slowly down her cheeks and into her rum and Coke.

"What if I'm wrong?" Ophelia whispered. "Even if he's not scum, what if he doesn't understand? What if I can't trust him? I'm still not sure he wasn't going to arrest me today."

"His funeral, if he does," Constantine said. "He's a good guy, and he's right for you. Why burden him with your baggage? Leave it be."

"Nobody with an ass like that could possibly be right for me," Art sobbed. "I worship Dar's beautiful black butt! Oh, my God, did I say that out loud?"

The waiter set coffee and walnut cake before them, and Constantine got rid of Ophelia's Cosmopolitan for good. Art's rum and Coke disappeared, too.

Constantine sat up straight. "Let's ramp it up a little before the next act. This time she gets to see me." He shook his long, wild hair out of its ponytail and turned to face Marissa.

As if on the end of an invisible string, the blonde's head jerked around. "There he is!" she gibbered. "Can't you see? He wants to kill me!"

Constantine let go of that invisible thread and fed Ophelia a forkful of cake. Reuben murmured soothingly to Marissa.

"You set her up," Art said. "She thought she had a date with a hot guy, but he's in cahoots with you. That's so cruel!"

"Look for trouble and trouble will find you." Constantine put a hand on Art's, and she jumped. "Calm down," he said, kind yet cold. "Marissa is not your concern. I'd do it whether or not you were here. Right, Ophelia?"

"Right," Ophelia said ungratefully.

Whatever song and dance was going on up there ended, the house lights came on, and finally the stage hands reappeared, goofing around as they cleared the stage. They set up an array of whips and floggers and finally humped their way to center stage behind two massive naked dolls.

"Hi!" Violet tripped across the room, followed by Donnie Donaldson. Art raised a vague hand, her eyes devouring Dar, and then Violet got in the way.

"Hey," Art shrieked, leaping out of her chair. "You're blocking my view!"

Dar's head whipped around.

"Go Dar!" Art hollered. "Don't wear yourself out. Save some for
me
!"

The crowd roared. Darby grinned and blew her a kiss, and with an extra bit of bump and grind, set back to work.

Violet and Constantine laughed. Art put her face in her hands and wept.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-ONE

Realization slammed into Ophelia. She shoved her face against Constantine's shoulder, dug her fingers into his chest, and bit down hard. Her fangs sliced through her lip. She grunted with pain and clung tight.

Constantine always caught on fast. "I know it's funny, but do you have to slobber all over my arm?"

Blood drizzled from Ophelia's mouth, staining his sleeve. She sucked her fangs out of her lip and willed the goddamned things back into place. No way. Not with Plato's murderer only a few yards away.

"Ophelia," Violet asked, "are you okay?"

"She's drunk," Constantine said. "So is Artemisia, hence the complete lack of inhibition."

"That's not like Ophelia," Violet said. "She must be horribly stressed, and no wonder, poor angel."

If I was drunk before, I sure am sober now.
Ophelia wiped her lip on Constantine's sleeve and licked the cut shut. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder, waiting for the fangs to give up the fight, wondering how she could get away with not looking at Vi and her...date. Rage boiled up like lava, hot and relentless, and with it, hurt and chagrin. He'd been a good neighbor, almost a friend. How could he? And why?

"Introduce me to your friend, Vi." Constantine sounded amused.

"This is Donnie, Ophelia's neighbor. He dropped by and wanted to come along."

"Not the vandal, I hope?" Constantine was quivering with suppressed laughter.

"Of course not," Vi said. "Donnie's harmless."

Ophelia hissed and almost sliced her lip again.

"Ophelia, you're not going to barf on me, are you?" Constantine asked dangerously. "I'll only put up with so much."

Artemisia stood shakily. "I'm
definitely
going to barf." She plunged toward the restroom.

"You too, Ophelia." Constantine slung her over his shoulder and followed more leisurely. Outside the ladies' room, he set her on her feet. "That's the killer?"

Ophelia manually forced the fangs into their slots, snarling. "He's with my sister!"

Constantine shook with laughter. "So he is. How did you figure it out?"

"You figured it out. You told me that shot was for Gideon, not for me."

"So?"

"Donnie sent Gideon to the river after me. He's the only one who knew Gideon would be there. He could have driven to the other side of the river and set up in one of the empty houses in minutes. Come to think of it, he built that secret compartment for the man who used to live in my trailer. And now he's got Vi! What are we going to do? Stop laughing, damn it!"

"Vi can take care of herself."

"What if she sleeps with him? I can't let her sleep with a murderer!"

"Oh, I don't know," Constantine said. "There's a certain cachet to it. Look at all the misguided women clamoring to sleep with me."

Ophelia stifled the urge to slug him. "What if she won't sleep with him and he gets pissed off? He's been gaga about her for ages, but she's never shown much interest."

Constantine chuckled. "I foresee an amusing evening. Don't worry, I'll make sure she's safe. You okay now? We can't let the dude know we're on to him."

"I have to talk to Gideon tonight," Ophelia said.
Oh God, yes. Oh God, no.

She found Art past the worst, but still hunched groaning over the toilet bowl.

"I am such an idiot," Art said, accepting wet paper towels and wiping her face. "He didn't look turned off, did he?"

"He looked thrilled." Ophelia hauled her from the stall to the sink. "Rinse and spit."

"I'll never get rid of this vile taste," Art said, spitting again and again. "What if he--? Maybe he was just putting on an act. I mean, he was up on stage. He couldn't very well yell, 'You disgusting slut.' "

"He wasn't disgusted, and now he knows you aren't turned off by his questionable past either. Everything's working out perfectly."
For you. And I'm happy for you.
"Coffee and cake is what you need. We both need."

"But what do I do now?" Art faltered when they reached the table again.

"You wait for Dar to come to you. I'll cozy up to Constantine, so it won't look like you're with him."
And I won't have to look at Donnie.

Her vile, worthless, murdering neighbor, thank God, was dividing his attention between Violet and the activity on stage. She motioned Constantine one chair over and plopped down between him and Art, giving him a smacking kiss on the cheek. "More cake and cappuccino! You're a darling." As she dug into the cake, she told herself,
Get sober, build your courage, and go.

"Um," Art said during a break in the show. "I have a problem."

"You've sobered up and you're thinking straight?"

Art plowed on. "I haven't had sex for a long time. And when I did, it was terrible. What if I go to bed with Dar and it doesn't work out?"

"Tell him you need to take it slowly," Ophelia said. "Be thankful you're not a vamp. Guys are incapable of taking it slowly with vamps. You at least have the option of easing into it."

"But what if he wants something different from what I want?"

"Negotiate a relationship," Ophelia said.
Negotiate your life.
"Find ways to compromise." Her brain scurried around looking for a compromise with Gideon, but couldn't find one.

"If you start talking about sex you'll end up in bed, so make your birth-control plans now," Violet spoke up.

"There's a condom machine in the restroom," Ophelia said.

"Don't buy the bubble-gum-flavored kind," Violet said.

"Don't buy any flavored kind," Ophelia replied. "You're not going to eat the goddamned thing."

"Not the condom, anyway," Art whispered, blushing again. "I'm such a slut." She took a big gulp of coffee and slunk down in her chair. "And I'm so frigging scared."

Me too,
sighed Ophelia to herself.

Later, Art dragged her to the restroom to check out the condom machine. She dithered for more than fifteen minutes before deciding on one ribbed, one lubricated, zero flavored, and one plain. Then she opened the restroom door and blundered right into Darby Sims, dressed now in an old T-shirt and jeans.

The condoms dropped to the floor. "Hey," Art gasped. Ophelia let the restroom door close all but a crack and hovered shamelessly inside.

"Hey," said Darby. "They don't need me anymore tonight." He picked up the condoms. "What, no chocolate?"

"You're the chocolate," Art blurted. "Oh, Dar, I'm so scared."

Darby stuffed the condoms into his pocket. "I'm mighty nervous myself." He smiled and took her hand. "How about we go someplace and talk?"

Back at the table Ophelia whispered, "Why doesn't Gideon call? What if he's already dead? If he is, I'll kill Donnie myself!"

"That's the spirit," Constantine said. "I'll be your accomplice. On the other hand, maybe he's just busy."

"Maybe he doesn't want to talk to me," Ophelia said.

"Maybe he can't afford the distraction." Constantine laughed.

Ophelia thought and thought and got nowhere, but a cappuccino and another slice of cake later, she knew she was safe to drive. If she was driving into catastrophe...so be it.

The music ended. Constantine said softly, "Time to wrap things up. Hold on to yourself, babe. This won't be pretty." He stood and closed his eyes.

Marissa shrieked and clawed out of her chair. "He's killing me!" Her head jerked back. She flailed and fought against Reuben's attempts to hold her, gasping and sobbing. Two bouncers appeared out of the shadows by the wall and lifted her off the floor.

"That should do it," Constantine said. The bouncers carted her through the exit with Reuben behind them.

"Poor darling," Violet said. "Such a lousy date. Tell him to come see me the
minute
he's free. I'll go take a nap and muster my strength. A taste of Reuben is just what I need." She pressed a warm kiss on Donnie's cheek. "Donnie, sweetie, let's do this again sometime soon." She drifted away, Donnie floating behind her.

"That's one true love and one shameless lust," Constantine said, counting on his fingers. "So, Ophelia, how about you?"

True love or death,
thought Ophelia, terrified at how much she was counting on. If not true love, at least not being dragged off to jail. Lust, for once, had abandoned her.

She drove Constantine's truck slowly through Bayou Gavotte and along the country road past her forlorn little house. She doused the lights and went up Gideon's driveway in the dark, parking beside the Mercedes. At least he was here. At least he was alive.
At least he can arrest me if he wants.
She stepped barefoot out of the car, expecting the dogs to raise a ruckus, but heard only insects strumming their nocturnal songs.

Since he was alive, that meant she had to talk to him. Or she could just leave again.

She sucked in a deep breath, hurried up the steps, and rapped on the door. Nothing. Low lights burned in the living room and kitchen, but no footsteps and no dogs.

She didn't have to do this. She could turn around and drive away. She could call him with her information, stay at Vi's till everything blew over, and then get on with her life.

What life? No way.

Ophelia skirted the house, but the deck was deserted. The tangled garden beckoned. On midnight walks down the river the previous summer, she'd caught the aromas of gardenia, night-blooming jasmine, and sweet olive. A refuge, Gideon had said. If she restored this garden, it would be a refuge for both of them, but it had better not be from each other.

She heard Gideon's voice and a splash down by the river. A couple more yards along the path, a cold nose nudged her hand.

"Oh, Gretchen," she whispered, "I'm so scared."

Gretchen grinned evilly and danced down the path ahead.

He didn't look busy, ankle-deep in the water, skipping stones while Daisy and Belle milled around him. Weary, maybe even dejected, judging by the set of his shoulders. He hadn't been able to solve the murder. He hadn't been able to arrest her or anyone else. How should she approach him? He'd say the theory about the sniper shooting at him was a lot of bull, and he wouldn't believe her about Donnie.

"Thank God you're alive," she blurted the instant he turned. "I was afraid Donnie had killed you."

Coolly, he asked, "How could he kill me when he's clubbing with Vi?" Which was definitely better than "Trying to pin it on your neighbor, bitch? You have the right to remain silent..."

"Before that. You didn't answer your phone, you didn't call when Constantine left a message..."

"To say what?" Gideon faced the water again. "I was busy. His message confirmed what I already believed, but unfortunately, I have to have proof." He crouched and fingered through the pebbles by the shore.

"You already knew?" Ophelia clenched her fists. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It didn't hit me till shortly after you left," Gideon said in a tone of patient fatigue. "I was on Plato's platform talking it through with my boss, and everything fell into place. That's why I wanted to have dinner with you earlier. Talking it through is what works for me." He stood and shrugged dismissively. "I spent the evening going after proof. I knew you were in good hands."

"Uh, well, great then. I guess I should go."

Gideon stood and zinged a pebble across the water. "Wait."

"What?" She cringed at the hostility in her voice.

"I need to tell you something." He wasn't looking her way, but she could hardly blame him; she didn't much want to meet his eyes, either. "I have a confession to make."

You?

"Since you're already pissed off at me, I may as well get it over with." Zing, skip, skip.

"It sounds like
you're
pissed off at
me
." Ophelia crossed her arms in front of her bustier.

"I'm pissed off in general," Gideon allowed. Zing, plop. "It doesn't matter. I searched your house..." After a silence, he added, "If you're going to go ballistic, could you get it over with?" The next stone zinged across the river and skipped once near the opposite bank.

Ophelia squelched the urge to stomp away. "Why would I care? I don't have anything to hide."
Not in my house, that is.

"Don't you want to know why?"

"That's obvious. Because you still suspect me."

"No, damn it, not because I suspect you!" Gideon slapped the last stone across the water and turned, his eyes burning through the darkness. "Why the hell would I suspect you? I know you didn't do it. I've always known you didn't. Now I know Donnie did, which gives me even less reason to suspect you than before."