The Devil's Wire (10 page)

21

When Lenise opens the door Jennifer is hit by the smell of oven-baked vanilla.

"That was unnecessary," says Lenise, looking at the bag of groceries.

"You didn't ask for any of this."

Lenise waves a hand. "Forget about it."

In the kitchen Jennifer finds McKenzie peeling carrots, face scrubbed clean, wearing a blue hoodie and sweat pants Jennifer doesn't recognize. Her hair isn't wet so that was a start.

"How you holding up, hon?"

"Lenise made us dinner."

Lenise blushes. "It's only simple fare."

"Would you mind if I clean up first?" says Jennifer.

*

When Jennifer's done with the shower, she goes downstairs and finds Lenise in the living room.

"Dinner won't be long," says Lenise.

Jennifer takes a seat on the couch and picks up the book on the coffee table.
Precious Stones
.

"I was going to be a gemologist back in South Africa," says Lenise. "Things didn't work out."

"You still could."

"What? At my age? And then there's the cost. Education isn't cheap."

Jennifer puts down the book.

"Sounds like you gave up too soon."

Lenise flashes with anger."What would you know?"

Jennifer shrugs. "Sometimes you've got to fight for what you want. The universe rewards action."

"Don't give me that new age bullshit."

McKenzie appears with a casserole pot.

"Dinner's ready," she says.

*

Jennifer picks her way through the meal, a beef stew of some kind, spiced with fennel seed and marjoram. It may have been good, Jennifer can't tell because she seems to have lost her ability to taste. McKenzie is bright and talkative and Jennifer wonders if she's experiencing some kind of post-traumatic stress thing. After they finish, McKenzie gets up to put the plates in the dishwasher but Lenise shoos her away.

"That thing leaks. Off you go, girl. Your mother and I will do them the old fashioned way."

"I don't mind," says McKenzie.

Lenise shakes her head. "I have a rule that whoever lends a hand with dinner doesn't do the dishes."

"But I like helping."

"It's okay, hon, Lenise and I need to talk," says Jennifer.

McKenzie looks like she's about to argue but finally leaves.

"She's has a forgiving heart," says Lenise, filling the sink and adding a squirt of dishwashing liquid. "Although that may not last forever." Lenise dunks a pot in the hot water and washes the inside in slow smooth circles. "Daughters are so much easier than sons. Oh, everyone says how easy boys are to raise – all they need is three meals a day and a bed. But that's a lie. Males are far more complex than that. You cannot take them at face value as they would have you believe. They have secrets. They're selfish. They drain you of emotion and give nothing in return. A girl, well, she takes the initiative. She'll do things for other people that she gets no personal benefit from. She will do things without being asked. A man you have to prod and cajole and nag. You have to make lists for them to follow. They can't think beyond themselves. But a girl, a girl is thoughtful."

Lenise looks at Jennifer.

"I think I've found someone who will assist," she says.

Jennifer stares at her. "I don't want to involve anyone else in this mess."

"You didn't think we could do this by ourselves, did you, Jenny? Your husband needs to know you're serious. Outside help will show him you mean business."

"What exactly are we talking about here, Lenise?"

"Use your imagination."

"Beating him up?"

"If that's what it takes."

"What if things go too far?"

"They won't, Ron's a professional."

"Ron? I don't like the sound of this. I'm not a violent person."

"That's what Ron's for."

"What if something goes wrong and we get caught, we'd be accessories. I'll end up in jail and where would that leave McKenzie?"

"You want him gone from your life, don't you?" says Lenise.

"Yes."

"This is your only real option."

Jennifer drops into the chair. "I didn't ask for any of this."

"You need to keep it together, Jenny, for the girl's sake."

Jennifer looks at Lenise. "Can we trust this guy? Ron?"

"He won't let us down."

Jennifer runs a hand over her face. "God, I can't believe I'm even contemplating this."

"Effectiveness, Jenny, remember that."

"So you keep saying."

"His fee is ten thousand dollars."

"What!"

Lenise shrugs. "He's taking a risk. He needs to be well compensated."

Jennifer looks at Lenise and lowers her voice.

"Hank has drained my accounts."

Lenise puts down the dish cloth. "Bastard. Without money this is going to be difficult. What about the business?"

Jennifer shakes her head. "I could be audited. I can't explain away a 10K withdrawal."

Lenise places the final plate in the dish rack and drains the sink.

"Think of something. I need it by tomorrow."

The drain gurgles and the sink runs dry.

"Okay," says Jennifer finally. "I'll find a way."

22

Lenise met Ron three years ago at a bar in Lebanon, Missouri. He was small but well-built, with the ropy biceps of a fulltime construction worker. And he liked to show them off. He was younger than her and when he first bought her a drink she was suspicious that it was some sort of set up, that perhaps he had friends hiding around a corner laughing their heads off as he bought some mature a drink on a dare.

But it wasn't a set up. He'd been alone and just passing through. He told her he moved around the country doing his thing, "freelancing" he called it. They had talked all night and then went back to his trailer and made love. Both of them knew it wouldn't last, but that was okay.

They met up every once in a while and he'd show off his latest bloody knuckles or bruised ribs and she would fuss over him and coo "poor baby" and they would polish off a bottle of Jack and end up between the sheets.

She hadn't spoken to him in over a year and was lucky he still had the same cell number.

"Hey Lenny, how you been keeping?" he says.

"Peachy."

He laughs. "Smartass as usual."

"I might have some business for you," she says.

"Yeah?"

"How does 10k sound?"

"Sounds mighty sweet to me."

She'd be a liar to say it hadn't occurred to her to pad out Ron's fee, take a commission. Lord knew she needed the money. But it wasn't right in the circumstances, given what that son of a bitch had done to the girl.

"It's for a friend of mine. Husband trouble."

"Better not on the phone, Lenny."

"Oh, yes. That was careless."

"Usual place?" he says.

"That would be good."

The usual was a diner on the outskirts of Madison. He is already there when Lenise arrives. She has taken extra special attention with her hair. She knows it's stupid, that this is purely a business transaction, but she can't help it. He smiles and gives her a hug. She feels his muscle contract beneath his plaid shirt. He had grown older, but in a good way, and Lenise wonders, not for the first time, why it was when men got older it was salt and pepper sexy but when a woman aged she was a washed out has been.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, Lenny."

"Liar."

"You get hitched yet?"

"Cut it out, Ron." But she loves the attention.

They order coffee and when they're alone, she pushes the envelope across the table.

"It's all there."

He takes a look, raises his eyebrows.

"The full amount?"

"I trust you."

They fall silent. Outside, over by the dumpster, a fat guy in a ketchup-stained chef's apron alternates between smoking and knocking back a diet coke.

"Any special requests?" says Ron.

"She wants him out of her life for good. You need to convince him of that."

He looks at her, curious. "Whatever's going on with your friend has had an effect on you too, Lenny."

"If it was up to me, I wouldn't just be scaring him."

"Fair enough."

The coffee arrives. Outside, the filthy cook stabs out his cigarette.

"You up for something stronger, Lenny? My motel's just around the corner."

She looks at him and aims for her best smile. "What took you so long to ask?"

*

When Lenise gets home the back door is open which is strange because Jennifer and McKenzie had returned to their house four nights ago. She calls out but there's no answer. She calls again and the kitchen door opens.

"Hey," says Cody.

"For God's sake, turn on some lights. I thought you were a rapist."

"Nice to see you too, Ma."

She pushes past him into the kitchen and he follows.

"What's all that?" he says, nodding at the scrabble board on the table.

"The girl from across the road comes over sometimes."

"The dog killer's kid?"

"What happened to Minnesota?"

"Didn't work out."

"And what's that got to do with me?"

He opens the fridge, whistles when he sees the home-made pizza and lemon-frosted chocolate cake.

"Having a party or something?"

He takes a long gulp from the pineapple Kool-Aid Lenise had made especially for McKenzie, then takes a slice of pizza, dropping crumbs all over the place.

"Watch what you're doing," she says, retrieving the dish cloth to clean up the mess.

"Hey, I bought you something," he says.

Cody digs around in his satchel and passes her a small box made of soap stone. An intricate Asiatic lily is carved into the lid.

"I got it from an old Indian guy – Eagle Feather, would you believe. He had a stall on the side of the highway with snake skins and other dream-catcher shit, but then I saw that. The dude said someone in his tribe made it. I thought you could use it for Baby."

Lenise traces a fingertip across a fluted petal.

"It's nice," she says.

"You're welcome."

She puts down the box. "Why are you here?"

"I told you – things didn't work out. I had to leave the place I was staying at."

He turns back to the fridge and drinks more Kool-Aid. She takes it from his hands and returns it.

"Bad luck," she says.

"Yeah."

She knows what's coming next.

"I thought I would move back here."

She doesn't say anything.

"Just for awhile," he says. "Until I build up a bit of cash."

Lenise walks into the lounge, straightens the afghan across the back of the couch.

"That's not convenient, right now, Cody."

He stares at her. "What do you mean?"

"Just that."

"What am I supposed to do?"

She shrugs.

"You're a smart boy, you'll work it out."

"But I've got nowhere else to go."

She looks at him. For a moment she feels bad enough to relent but she won't be his door mat. There was also the small matter of tonight's planned event.

"I've got somewhere I'm meant to be," she says, looking at her watch.

"You're really going to do this? Turn away your own son?"

"Call me when you get settled," she says.

She returns to the kitchen and seconds later the front door slams. On the bench, she picks up the soap stone box and admires the detail of the delicate lily. She softens. It was truly the nicest thing he'd ever given her. Perhaps she'd been too rash, not letting him stay, forcing him out on the street. She turns the box over for a closer look at the lacework running the length of the bottom, and blinks at the tiny white sticker. Made in Pakistan.

23

Jennifer is certain she has developed a permanent tic. This morning she awoke to the feel of a recurring pinch on her upper left eyelid and when she looked in the mirror, she couldn't see a thing, but it was there, hidden somewhere inside the lithe tunnel of a blood vessel, twitching like a mini heart beat.

Part of the plan was to move back into the house and pretend like everything was normal, which she had done. There'd been no sign of Hank since he drained the accounts and she'd taken to watching from the kitchen window, waiting to catch the glint of a steel barrel in a shard of moonlight or a white-eyed blink from the darkness. But there had been nothing except for the slow stir of leaves and the occasional throaty hoot from an owl.

Jennifer hopes that when she tries his cell it will be disconnected or he will answer and say he's moved to Texas or Albuquerque or Maine.

But she's just playing games with herself. He hasn't left town. He was waiting for the right time to strike. For all she knew, he could be spying on the house right now.

She looks at the cordless phone resting on top of the closed toilet seat and thinks about what she has to say. Just act natural, Lenise had said, it's as simple as that. Simple when you're not the one doing it.

That damn tic is working overtime and Jennifer tries to rub it out. Oh God, this was never going to work. He's going to pick up on the thread of uncertainty in her voice. She should call the whole thing off.

"We need to talk," she says out loud. Then again. "Hank, we need to talk.
Tonight
."

"What are you doing?" says McKenzie, appearing in the bathroom doorway.

"Nothing."

"Who were you talking to?"

"Myself."

"Oh."

"I think I'm going nuts, hon."

"Great. Two crazy parents," says McKenzie.

Next week, when all this was over, Jennifer would need to think about their future.

"I'll be down in a sec."

She waits until McKenzie leaves, picks up the phone and dials the number.

He answers on the fifth ring, breathless and eager.

"Jen?"

He sounds so normal. She can't believe this is the same man who tried to kill her a week ago.

"I've arranged for me and McKenzie to be somewhere else tonight. The papers are on the table, Hank.
Sign them
. I've bagged up some of your things too. I'll leave the backdoor unlocked."

He says something, but the phone drops out as if he is walking into wind.

"I can't hear you," she says.

"I'm sorry."

"Just sign the papers and leave us alone."

When she gets off the phone she nearly throws up. She dials Lenise.

"I don't think he bought it."

"He'll come."

"I'm not sure I can go through with this. I mean, actually pull it off, seeing him face-to-face."

"You're stronger than you think."

"What if he figures it out?"

"He won't."

"There's got be another way."

"We've been through this already, Jenny, there isn't. We need to trust Ron."

Jennifer stares at the flagstone tiles on the bathroom floor.

"Why are you doing this Lenise?"

There's a pause. "Your girl deserved better."

"Thank you."

"Just be ready."