Inconstant Moon - Default Font Edition (31 page)

“You think he's innocent because he was upset? How do you know he wasn't upset because he'd attacked Natasha?”

“I don't buy that.” Elsie shakes her head. “He was too fragile.”

“That's crap Else and you know it.” Maggie says. “It could be anyone without a solid alibi. So maybe it is Boris. Or Eric. Or even Jake.”

Elsie says, “Then don't leave out Oscar. Or Nick either for that matter.”

Maggie nods slowly. “You're right we can't. How well does anyone know anyone? People see what they want to see. I mean look at Dexter.”

Kate snorts. “Maggie, Dexter is a fictional character. Look, you guys can think what you want but I know it's not Nick.”

“You know what they say,” Elsie says, “The wife's always the last to know.”

Kate glares at Elsie so Mouse leans in and says. “The police will investigate. Arguing will not solve anything.”

Kate says, “It could be anybody. Except Nick.”

Suddenly there's a strange man standing beside Elsie and they all startle, except Elsie.

Making eye contact with Elsie, he says, “Hey there, my name's Harry, and I was wondering if you'd maybe like to dance?”

Elsie smiles and slides off the stool. “Hi, Harry, I'm Elsie, and I would love to dance with you.”

The others silently watch Elsie follow Harry to select songs from the jukebox before heading onto the tiny dance floor.

Mouse says, “How does she do that?”

“She must transmit some kind of subliminal 'come hither' signal,” says Maggie.

Kate laughs. “That's it exactly. It's called pheromones.”

Mouse says, “Maybe that's the guy.”

“That'd be convenient.”

“Well, yeah. Then it wouldn't have to be somebody we know.”

“Don't say that, Maggie” insists Mouse. “I want to be able to sleep at night.”

Elsie's chosen an Allison Crowe torch song from the jukebox. It's a very slow dance. Naturally. Elsie slides into Harry's arms and they begin to dance.

Sighing heavily, Maggie says, “If he is the guy, after Elsie's through with him he won't be bothering anyone tonight.”

Elsie and Harry sway to the music, pressed as tightly together as is possible. Elsie's auburn mane undulates, drawing a veil across a good bit of the face to face contact.

Mouse frowns. “Rape isn't about sex, Maggie. It is about violent domination.”

Maggie says, “Yeah I know. I was trying to make a joke.”

Kate says, “Bad taste.”

Harry and Elsie steam up the dance floor, clearly enjoying themselves as they bump and grind. And grind.

The side door to the pub opens and Jose walks in, followed by Eric. On his way into the room Eric's attention is caught by the familiar torch song. He glances over at the dance floor and stops dead as his eyes light on Elsie. On the dance floor with some guy.

Coming in after, Amelia only just manages to not run into Eric. He just stands there, mesmerized, watching as Elsie running her hands down some guy's back and grabbing his butt. Elsie throws her head back and the guy nuzzles her neck, more groping than dancing.

Amelia grits her teeth at the sight of the Medusa screwing up some other poor schmuck. Eric certainly doesn't look like he's gotten over her. His rigid back tells her that Elsie is carving two notches for the price of one.

As Allison Crowe sings passionately about how she never loved a man, Amelia can't believe the fury she feels wash over her as she watches that bitch Elsie giving all women a bad name. Why do guys fall for women like that?

Every time.

Poor sap.

Elsie locks her eyes on Eric and smiles. She licks her lips and arches her back, doing some groping of her own, all the time keeping her eyes on Eric. Amelia is floored by the viciousness of it, just as Eric turns on his heel and stalks out.

Jose is ordering a drink at the bar before he realizes that he's lost Eric. He sees Mouse, Maggie and Kate sitting on the other side of the bar when Maggie smiles and waves. The three witches, Jose thinks, as Amelia joins him.

“What happened to Eric?” he asks.

“She did,” Amelia says, nodding gesturing back toward Elsie's display on the dance floor.

“Shit,” mutters Jose.

“Look Jose, You've been his friend longer than me, is he gonna be all right?”

Jose thinks, says, “Probably not. I better go find him, take him to some nice bar far far away from the red menace.”

“I didn't think she'd be here. She's never here.”

“S'alright. You OK to get home?”

“Oh yeah, don't worry about me.”

Jose takes a swig of his beer and starts to get out his wallet, but Amelia waves him away. “I'll get it, just go find him.”

Jose smiles ruefully at her, “Thanks,” then he heads out.

Amelia turns back to the bar and orders a fuzzy navel. One good thing, the guys didn't hear her order the sissy drink.

Liz kills the Tetris game she's been playing when she sees Detective Lewis leading Boris toward her. She stuffs the phone in her pocket.

Boris asks, “Where is she?”

Liz nods back at the office and says, “She's asleep. I just want to get her back to the hospital.”

“Can I have a minute with her?” Liz nods, and Boris heads into the office while Liz calls a cab.

Boris goes in and just stares at his sleeping friend a moment. A great lump is forming in his throat. He brushes at his eyes, but gets himself together. Crossing to where Natasha slumps awkwardly in the chair, he squats beside her.

From the doorway Lewis watches as the intensity of his gaze makes Natasha open her eyes. When Natasha sees Boris her relief is visible as she relaxes and gives him a wan smile.

“Oh Bo, you're OK.”

“Of course I'm okay, but you're not, idiot. What the hell are you doing out of the hospital? You look like shit. Your skin is gray.”

“I couldn't stand by and let 'em give you the third degree.”

“It's okay, they didn't even use rubber hoses. I'm fine.”

“But you were in trouble.”

“The best thing you can do for me is for you to get better. Liz is calling a cab and we're gonna take you back and you are going to stay in the hospital until the doctors say you can go home if I have to get them to tie you to the bed, you hear?”

Natasha smiles wanly at Boris. “If you visit me every day.”

Lewis thinks it's a touching scene.

Trouble is, she's seen too many instances of people hurting the ones they love.

Jose sees Eric disappear ahead of him on the forest path. It is cold. Pulling the zipper of his jacket all the way up to his neck still doesn't warm him up, so Jose jogs after, hoping the activity will help. But where did he go?

There he is.

“Hey Eric, wait up!” he calls into the night.

But Eric turns off the pavement and heads into the forest. “Jeeze,” mutters Jose, “I don't need this shit.”

Jose steps up his pace, catching up to where he thinks Eric might have gone off the path, but there is no obvious indication. Jose is no tracker, he is pure city boy.

“ERIC,” he bellows. “Where the hell are you, you asshole?” Jose strains to hear, briskly rubbing his arms, then stamping his feet, trying to stay warm. Fat chance. It is goddamn cold out here. He peers into the adjoining forest. Can't see nothin' for the goddamn trees.

“Damn it Eric it's cold out here.”

“Just leave me the fuck alone!”

Jose moves through the underbrush in the direction of the voice. “You got no call to sit out here and freeze to death over some no account bitch. You don't have to hang with me man, just come back to the Res. I'll even give you my forty pounder of Jack Daniels. You can drink all by your lonesome if you want.”

“It's only half a bottle and you know it, you prick.”

Jose steps into a small clearing. He's sure this is where the voice was coming from. But there is no sign. Where is Eric?

“Come on out, you goof. Where the hell are you?”

“None of your fucking business, man. Just go away.”

The voice is right there, but Jose can't see anything. He peers into the shadows. Then he looks up. Sure enough, Eric's legs dangle from a branch in an oak tree.

“She's not worth it man. Get your head outta your ass. You're gonna get thrown outta Christie you miss more classes.”

“Go 'way.”

“Hey man it's cold. It's winter. C'mon down.”

“You think this is winter you're in for a surprise.”

“You'll be surprised when I pound you into dog food.”

“I like it up here just fine. You go on without me.”

“You stay there you're gonna get hypothermia. She's still back at the bar. Look, you want her to know she's fucked you up?”

“No way, Jose.”

“Then get your ass down here.”

“Okay, okay. I'm coming.” Jose watches in horror as Eric just lets go and starts to topple off the branch.

“Wait, grab on!” yells Jose, startled, Eric grabs hold, and swings from the branch, feet dangling a few feet above the ground.

“Don't just fall out you shit, you break something I can't carry you back, just hang on, hang on.” Eric dangles patiently while Jose positions himself just out of range, ready to do his best to assist the landing. “Okay, come on down.”

Eric lets go and drops gracefully to the ground, allowing his legs to absorb the impact.

Jose plants his hands on his hips. “You've done that before.”

“No shit Sherlock. I'm a tree climbin' boy from way back. I like trees.”

“I'm turning blue here man, and you're being an asshole.”

“You play your cards right maybe I'll let you have some J.D. Maybe help you get warmed up.”

Jose shakes his head in disgust and starts through the trees.

Eric follows, biting his tongue, deciding he'd better not rag Jose about being a “city boy” again.

Barbie smiles her thanks at Billie the bartender as she pays for two more bottles of beer, then carries to the back booth. Tamara looks fairly wretched.

“Why does he hafta be such a jerk, y'know? Just go to school, do whatcha gotta do. How hard is that? There's more to life than playing allatime.”

Elsie and Harry are gone and Amelia sits in Elsie's seat between Maggie and Mouse. At the end of the bar Kate leans in and says, “No one was more surprised than I was when Elsie showed up with Mouse and Maggie. I think this is the first time I've seen her in here.”

“Maybe she's having a hard time finding guys?” says Amelia.

Kate laughs. “Elsie? I doubt it. All she has to do is flip that hair and every male for miles around jumps to attention.”

“I don't know, she's been pretty sexually active. I mean, if, uh, you know there's a Lotta concern about STDs out there.” Maggie glances at Amelia, “Oh, hey, I'm sorry, I . . .”

“Sorry?” Amelia frowns. “What?”

Maggie says, “Poor guy. You know what they say, everyone your partner and all their partners . . .”

“You think . . .” Amelia frowns. “Wait a minute. I haven't slept with Eric. We're just friends.”

Kate shrugs, “Well, Nick says Elsie's at the top of her class, so she's probably smart enough to use protection anyway.”

The door swings open and Oscar and Quentin come in, Maggie waves and they drift over to join the girls at the bar, rubbing their hands together.

“Good evening ladies. How is everyone?”

“Just lovely, Oz.” smiles Kate. “You guys look cold.”

“We escorted Krystal to her car, which was farther than I realized. I do believe I'll be digging out my woollens.”

“Still finding Canada a bit cold?”

“Yes,” says Oscar, “but this year I am prepared.”

Mouse leans in front of Oscar to ask Quentin, “Excuse me, Q, have you heard anything more about Natasha?”

“She'll survive, Mouse. She's busted up but there's no brain damage. They're keepin'her in the hospital another day for observation to make sure. She was beaten pretty badly.”

Mouse sighs. “She'll get better then, that's good.”

Oscar says, “I can't urge you ladies enough, stick together until they get the bastard. Don't go anywhere without a buddy.”

There's a general wave of nodding through the company and Quentin says, “I just want a quick draught and then I need to head home hopefully in time to catch a word with my wife.”

“Uh, Q . . .” Mouse stops him. “Tamara's here.”

Quentin raises his eyebrows. “Where?”

Mouse nods. “In the booth at the back.”

Quentin gets to his feet and heads toward the back booth.

Maggie leans in, “What was that all about?”

Mouse sighs. “Paradise Lost, I think.”

Barbie looks miserable sitting on the outer bench, Tamara sprawls at the back of the booth, slumped against the wall in the corner. The table is littered with empty glasses and beer bottles.

Tamara opens bleary eyes as Quentin slides in beside Barbie, and says, “Hey, doll.”

Barbie rolls her eyes and looks away. Tamara sits up at the sound of his voice, and she focuses on Quentin. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

He smiles at her. “Babe, I missed you.”

“Missed me.” Shaking her head, Tamara leans toward Barbie. “You hear that? Says he missed me.” Turning back to Quentin, she glowers. “If you missed me . . . if you . . . if you gave a shit you woulda . . . would a . . . aw shit . . . I am so mad at you.”

Quentin turns to Barbie asking, “She's mad because?”

“You stood her up again, you didn't even come home.”

“I'm sorry, Tam, I was gonna see you last night. I tried calling but you never answered. It went straight to voicemail.”

“You didn't leave a message, you din . . . din call back.”

“No I didn't. Stuff happened, I was busy . . .” he shakes his head. “Look, I'm really sorry. I was going to . . .”

“I'm sorry our marriage isn't 'portnat to you, goddammit.” Tamara slides along the bench and out of the booth.

“It is important, I was on my way home when Jake asked me . . .”

“Always time for a bud, eh, Q. Just never any for me.”

“. . . to help search for Natasha.”

Tamara doesn't make the connection as she sways drunkenly beside the booth, but Barbie does. “That's the girl who was attacked.”

“Yes. And when we found her we had to wait on cops and paramedics. And then we all went along to the hospital, and you know I couldn't even text you then, Tam.”