Till the Break of Dawn (9 page)

Wondering what he could possibly have to ask I said, “Okay.”

“They’re saying that some kind of animal killed her. Do you think that was possible?”

I remembered how Mandy’s throat had been torn open and shuddered. “At first glance, I can understand how someone might think that. But I don’t see how that could be true.”

“Why not?”

“Because an animal couldn’t have gotten in and out of the house by itself. We were there when Bill unlocked the front door. The back door was locked too because Jamie had to unlock it to go outside. Plus all of the windows were closed because the police checked them.”

Earl put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me a step back from the people who were filing in from the parking lot.

“I didn’t want to scare you, but it’s not a conventional animal people are talking about.” He lowered his voice even more as he added, “They’re thinking maybe a werewolf killed her.”

I tried to control my reaction in front of the customers. No doubt they were already talking about the same thing and I didn’t want to add to anyone’s panic. As quietly and calmly as possible I described Mandy’s injuries to Earl.

“Now I’ve never seen a werewolf victim before, but I think it would be much worse than that,” I finished. Earl looked relieved. “You don’t actually think it was a werewolf, do you?”

He shook his head. “Of course not. I just don’t want people to get some crazy idea and start a witch hunt, um, I mean werewolf hunt. That’s just all we need around here, you know?”

“Well, they should definitely be looking for one sick bastard, but one of the same species I think.”

Earl patted my shoulder and headed toward the kitchen.

*****

Business wasn’t slow, but the atmosphere in the bar that night was subdued. Everyone was just as confused as me when it came to a motive. Mandy’s murder was the topic of conversation at almost every table. The conversations I overheard while walking among the crowd made me sad. Mandy hadn’t considered any of these people to really be her “friends” and yet she had no enemies. Everyone thought well of her, or at least that’s what they said. The crime was so senseless, but someone had put enough thought in it to wipe off all fingerprints from the room. My guess was that if the police checked the entire house, only my prints, Jamie’s, and Bill’s would be found, because whoever was responsible wiped the place clean after killing Mandy.

I went into the office and pulled a pack of small, thin cigars out of Jamie’s purse. They looked just like long cigarettes, only they were dark brown. I hadn’t smoked in a couple of years, but tonight I felt like a little nicotine might help my nerves. With the extra help we had hired, it was safe to take a break without the whole place going to hell.

When I stepped out the back the first thing I noticed was the storm clouds rolling in. The second thing was the sweet smell of tobacco. I looked to my right and found Jamie standing on the other end of the back porch. She exhaled and smoke hung heavy in the damp air. When she saw the cigar in my hand she smiled.

“I brought one out here for you too,” she said, pulling an extra cigar out of her pocket.

I smiled sheepishly, feeling stupid for not asking first. “I couldn’t find your lighter.”

I saw a flash of hot pink in her hand before it flew through the air toward me. I caught the lighter and fired up my cigar. Jamie’s cowboy hat lay on the small table between us and her dark hair was down for the first time in a while. I couldn’t help but think she must look better than I did at the moment. The humidity always made my hair curl even more. But ever since I’d let it grow to waist length my curls were easier to manage. Maybe I’d finally stretched them out enough.

Jamie and I continued to stand at opposite ends of the porch and blow smoke rings out into the darkness. Thunder rumbled, reminding me of the sound of a bowling ball crashing down an alley unchecked. Neither of us knew what to say. Finally I managed, “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Jamie exhaled like a dragon breathing smoke. “Me neither.”

“I don’t really know what to say, I’d just like it if you came home with me.”

A single tear slipped down her face as she replied thickly, “Okay.”

After finishing our cigars Jamie and I did something completely uncharacteristic: We left Terry and Earl in charge and went home early. It’s weird I suppose. We didn’t really want to talk or particularly want to spend time with someone else. But neither of us wanted to be in a house alone. It was like we both wanted someone close by in case we changed our minds and fell to pieces.

Jamie offered to drive (once again in my car) and her first stop was at the liquor store. Not that business was ever that slow here either, but the place was swarming. Does the murder of a local always have this effect?

“Why is everybody here?” I asked.

Jamie gave me a smile, but not one that looked particularly happy. “Why are you here?”

“Because you drove me.” She got out and I followed. “There hasn’t been a murder here in my lifetime. Do people usually react this way?”

She held the door open for me. “Why are you asking me?”

“Because you’ve lived in bigger towns. I thought maybe you’d seen something similar before.”

She shrugged and headed toward the back of the store. “When I lived in Orlando people were killed all the time. Not that it’s the crime capital of the world or anything. I never personally knew anyone who was murdered and I’m not sure if it’s any indication of how people react, but the liquor stores and bars were always wrapped up.”

Jamie handed me a case of beer while she went for something a little stronger.

“Yeah, but Orlando is a vacation spot too. Maybe they were just looking to party.”

“I’m sure some of them were. But more often than not the people who used to come in the club where I danced looked like they wanted to forget something.”

Jamie didn’t have to describe the look. As I scanned the crowd, I understood exactly what she meant. These people weren’t party animals, they were my friends and neighbors. And they wanted to get good and drunk. What can I say? It’s a small town and this is the way we deal with stress. People out here don’t believe in psychologists or group therapy. Their idea of group therapy is sitting around in a bar with people you may or may not speak to and drinking as much beer as it takes to get over what’s bothering you.

“You’re turning me into an alcoholic,” I teased.

Jamie pulled out her bank card and ran it through the scanner at the checkout counter. “Shut up, I’m buying.”

By the time we pulled up in front of my house it was raining. This storm wasn’t a harsh downpour like we’d had a few weeks ago, but a soft gentle pitter-patter of moisture. It was soothing.

Jamie sat in one of the wicker chairs on the front porch and made herself comfortable.

“I’m gonna just chill here for a while if that’s all right with you?”

“Fine. I don’t feel much like talking. I just didn’t want to be by myself.”

“I know what you mean,” she said, putting the case of beer beside her chair. “Will you take the rest in the house for me? These were already cold.”

“Are you sure you want to stay out here? What if whoever did this is still out there?”

Jamie cracked open a beer as she replied, “I’ll fuck his shit up.”

I laughed softly as I took the rest of the booze inside. “Don’t stay out here all night,” I called over my shoulder.

After putting everything else in the fridge I took out a bottle of wine. There was no telling how long it had been in the back of my refrigerator. I’d been saving the wine for no particular reason. Tonight seemed like as good a time as any to open it.

Chapter Ten

Once I was alone all I could seem to do was cry. I filled the bathtub till it nearly overflowed before pouring myself another glass of wine. The dark rich merlot took the sting out of everything, but it also gave me an odd sort of clarity. The more I drank the more alone I felt. Calling Jesse crossed my mind, but it wasn’t Jesse’s voice I needed to hear. He was a nice man and if I’d never known Marcus, maybe we would have had a chance.

By the time I’d finished half the bottle I knew what I had to do. Jamie had won the bet. Forgetting all about the tub, I picked up the bottle, threw open the French doors and went out onto the balcony. A small wrought iron table sat in the corner, its single chair reinforcing my solitude.

“Marcus.” I whispered his name to the wind, like a prayer, calling out to the storm as if it could bring him back to me.

Seven years. I’d wasted so much time, thinking that I could ever love someone else. And why the hell had it been so important that I try?

“I’m so sorry,” I cried.

Breaking the news to Jesse was the furthest from my mind. Instead, I spoke to the night and the rain as if they could hear me. “Come back to me, Marcus. I’m so sorry I asked you to go.”

There’s no telling how long I sat out there in the rain. The wine was long finished and though I knew I should go inside, I was no longer capable. Instead I put my head down on the small table and cried myself to sleep.

*****

I gasped as I lifted my head. Something was out there and I was too delirious to know what it was. Green eyes blazed in the darkness. Through the flashes of lightning I saw everything. Pale skin. No shirt. Wet hair clinging to his throat as he bent over me.

“I’ve never been far away,” he whispered.

The smell of breath mints confirmed what my mind was trying to tell me.

“Marcus.”

Strong arms lifted me, carrying me inside out of the rain. My grief and all the alcohol weighed heavily on my senses. The next thing I knew I was smelling coffee and Jamie’s perfume.

“Marcus,” I said, sitting up a little too fast.

I put a hand to my head to try and stop the spinning. However, when the bed sheet fell back I realized I was naked.

“Nice,” Jamie said, laughing. “That must have been some dream you were having.”

She sat a cup of steaming coffee on my nightstand and put her hand against my face. Something about the way she looked at me made me wonder if I was all right.

“Do you feel okay?” she asked.

“Um, sure. Why?”

“Because you woke up naked asking for Marcus, you haven’t touched your coffee and you haven’t bothered to cover up your tits.”

I snatched the covers up beneath my chin and took the coffee cup. Before I took a sip I leaned close to Jamie and sniffed.

“What the fuck?” She laughed.

“You haven’t been eating breath mints, have you?”

She looked pissed. “Okay, so I haven’t brushed my teeth yet. I made your sorry ass breakfast.”

I took a fast sip of coffee, burned my tongue, and sat it back down. “It wasn’t a dream, Jamie. I got drunk and passed out on the balcony last night. Marcus carried me inside.”

She stood up and crossed her arms, looking down at me. “The balcony doors are locked and the floor is not wet. Did he mop too?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm and I couldn’t say I blamed her. “You haven’t spoken to the man in seven years and you think he showed up last night to carry your drunk ass in out of the rain?”

She was right. I sounded like a nut, and yet I couldn’t seem to stop myself from trying to make her understand. “Jamie, I could smell his breath mints.”

She sighed, running a hand through her dark hair. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I stood up and pulled on a t-shirt that reached my knees before crossing to the bathroom. Jamie stood outside the door while I took care of the necessities.

“Don’t you think that all of the stress might have had a bad effect on you?” she called through the door.

When I opened the door she nearly fell. “He used to always eat breath mints. He was paranoid about his breath smelling like blood. They were really strong, spearmint. There’s no mistaking it.”

“Sweetheart, you had a bad shock. We just saw our first dead body yesterday and it happened to be a friend of ours.” Jamie put her hands on my shoulders and pulled me close. “If you want to call him, why don’t you just do it?” she asked softly. “But don’t let yourself be tormented by his ghost, not when the real thing is so easily accessible.”

I pulled back enough to look up at her. “Easily accessible? Is that what you think? I wouldn’t begin to know how to get in touch with him after all this time. What am I going to do, write to his fan club? And what about Jesse?”

Jesse, the gorgeous man whose ass I had been admiring for weeks now. He was more than just eye candy. Whatever else happened I wanted to believe we’d become friends. He didn’t deserve to be hurt.

She shrugged. “I like Jesse, I really do. But if you cared for him the way you need to if you’re going to continue your relationship, you wouldn’t wake up asking for someone else. As for getting in touch with Marcus, didn’t you ever look at the cards he sent you?”

Over the years I would get flowers from time to time. The cards read only, “Thinking of you.” He never signed them, but I’d always figured they came from Marcus. I hadn’t gotten any flowers for a few years now. I tried not to think about what that might mean.

“There was never a number on the cards. Besides, he might not have sent the flowers.”

Her look said I must be stupid if that’s what I thought. “He probably has the same cell phone number.”

“After seven years?”

“You told me once that Marcus doesn’t like change.”

She had a point. His number probably was the same. But what would that say about me if I called Marcus as soon as Jesse was out of town? After all, we were seeing each other. The least I could do is tell him something. He was off taking care of his sick father and here I was contemplating how to get back in touch with an old flame.

When Jamie spoke again her voice was soft and the concern I heard there made me want to cry. “I never meant to stir anything up with my stupid bet. Just hearing someone say his name looks like it’s killing you. Don’t feel guilty over Jesse. You’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks.”

I sighed. “Yeah, but that doesn’t make it right.”

“Are you fucking him?”

“No, but I wanted to.”