Murder and Mayhem (44 page)

* * *

The restaurant, decorated country-style with baskets
of dried wheat and hay decorating the walls, had a buffet bar down the center
of the room, surrounded by people piling unbelievable amounts of food onto
oversize plates.

When they were shown to a table they declined the,
‘really good, $7.50 all you can eat buffet dinner’ offered by the round-faced
waitress with dimples on her elbows and knees.

“Obviously not from around here,” she muttered as she
headed to the kitchen with their order.

“I notice you never drink spirits or hard liquor,”
Nicola said as their drinks were placed on coasters in front of them. “Aside
from the Margaritas we had in Portsmouth.”

“Me? No. Beer and wine are my only drugs of choice.
What about you?”

“I prefer wine. Occasionally I’ll have something else,
but not often.”

“At home I’ll have a stubby of beer at night, but
that’s all. There’s no point in opening a bottle of wine when you’re on your
own because you’ll just keep on drinking until the bottle is empty. I nearly
fell into that trap once.”

“You! I don’t believe that! You always seem to be in
control.”

Danny looked around the restaurant at nothing in
particular, and said, “You don’t know the half of it, Nic.”

“I’d like to, Danny,” Nicola said as she reached
across the table and placed her hand on his.

“Someday,” he offered as he tried to hide the fear
that hovered around his heart like a noxious vapor–and changed the subject.
“When I get home I’ll cut back on my coffee intake. I usually only drink a
couple of cups a day, not like here when I need the caffeine fix to keep me
going. What with your antics keeping me up all night, and driving all day, I
need a minimum ten cups or I’d collapse in a heap.”

Nicola laughed as the waitress placed their meal on
the table, topped up their water and brought them fresh drinks.

A waitress rushed past, her arms laden with a juggling
act of perfectly balanced dishes that she dealt like a pack of cards to the
family of seven as a man wearing a cap pulled low on his head sat at the
counter, and ordered pie and coffee.

*****

The day had started out like any other. As the sun
rose in the east, the birds outside my window heralded in the morning. I’m sure
there must be some sort of law against noise at that ungodly hour. But in
Marin, I think they do things differently.

I breakfasted on Corn Flakes, my sister–Vegemite toast
with the crust removed and cut into little soldiers she dunked in her tea. Out
the kitchen window a slight breeze riffled through the leaves of a maple that
was already changing to gold, and red, and russet. Winter would be on us in no
time at all.

As I sipped my tea, it dawned on me that Ross and I
had been here five months–almost half a year.

I looked at Rosie. Her skin was pale and sallow; dark
shadows ringed her eyes, lines had formed on her brow and at the corners of her
eyes; her cheeks, slightly sunken, the bloom of youth long gone. Like the
season, we were both in the autumn of our years–with the dogs of winter
snapping at our heels.

Rosie looked up and saw me watching her. “What’s the
matter, Bubbie? You look so sad.”

I smiled. “Pensive is all.”

“What about?”

“The changing season,” I said, and then smiled.

“Now what are you thinking about?”

“The Macy’s shoe sale,” I said tapping the
advertisement in this morning’s newspaper. What I didn’t tell her was that it
reminded me of last night…

Ross had wandered into the guestroom where I was
hunched over my laptop, reading aloud to myself as I typed. He dropped his
Pillsbury body onto the bed, and listened for a while, then said, “We’ve been
to a few places like that, haven’t we, Bee? It’s called the American
heartland.”

I nodded.

“Great news about your friend, Louanna, they sound
like good people,” he added.

I looked at him leaning against the headboard, his
legs splayed out across the bed, a familiar smile on his lips as he watched me
working.

“They are,” I said.

“How is Rosie doing these days?”

“She’s doing okay. She puts on a good front, but I
know it’s wearing her down. I just wish there was something more I could do. I
feel so helpless.”

“I think you being here is the best medicine you can
give her.”

I sighed and closed the
laptop.  

How’s the book coming along?”

“All fun and games.”

He laughed. “Speaking of fun,
how about we have a little fun of our own?”

“Why, Sir, whatever do you mean?” I said coyly,
batting my eyelids.

Ross reached into the closet, removed the purple
stilettos and knelt on the floor. “How about I put these on you for
starters–and then work my way up from there?”

“Ohhhh… Ross!”

*****

It was nearly one in the morning when he arrived back
at the hotel and was not surprised to see no one at the front desk. Everything
was quiet except for the muzak that played in the lift. He opened the door
cautiously, trying not to make any noise as he slipped into the bathroom. He closed
the door and turned on the light.

Danny stood in front of the mirror and inspected his
face, then he stripped off his clothes and stepped under the shower. When the
water jets hit their mark he winced. He soaped up his body and scrubbed
vigorously wanting to remove all telltale signs of the night. 

When he stepped out of the shower, he dried himself
off, taking extra care to avoid the raw open wounds. When he wiped the
condensation of the mirror and peered at his reflection Danny was shocked to
see the jagged lines of raised welts running down both cheeks. Short of
covering them with make-up or large dressing, there was nothing he could do to
disguise them. He decided to forgo shaving for a couple of days to give the
wounds a chance to heal.

He picked up his clothes, turned off the light, opened
the door and tiptoed across the room. He placed the blood stained garments into
a black plastic bag and buried them at the bottom of his bag.

When he climbed into bed, Nicola’s voice was groggy
with sleep. “Did you get what you wanted?” she asked.

“Yes. Go back to sleep,” Danny whispered as he rolled
onto his side and turned his back to her.

Half asleep, Nicola shuffled into the warmth of his
body, nuzzled her cheek into his back, reached over and caressed the side of
his face. The tips of her fingers touched the rough surface, hesitated,
explored further and found the jagged edges of the deep welts that ridged his
cheek like freshly ploughed furrows. Danny winced and drew back. Nicola touched
the area again, as if to confirm what she had felt. She sat up and switched on
the lamp.

“What happened to your face?” She gasped.

When Danny touched his face, Nicola noticed similar
marks on the backs of his hands.

“My God, Danny what happened?” The skin along the
angry red welts stood proud and inflamed as speckles of blood oozed and
gathered in the furrows from tiny pin-prick holes.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said trying to make
light of the injuries. “Sledge had a Siamese cat that took a distinct dislike
to me when I tried to pat it.”

Nicola jumped out of bed. “I’ve got some disinfectant
in here somewhere.”

She rummaged through her bag searching for the tube
she knew was in there somewhere. When she found the red and white tube she told
him to lie down, then she unscrewed the cap and squeezed the salve across the
tips of her fingers. Danny flinched when she touched the raw wounds.

“Ouch! That hurts.”

“Don’t be such a baby.”

“Boy. That stings.”

“You’ve only got yourself to blame. I hope you’ve
learnt your lesson. This is what happens when you go messing around with
strange felines. In future confine your fondling of females to me.”

When Nicola finished applying the salve, Danny
inspected his face in the mirror. “Do you think it’ll leave a scar?”

“Probably for a couple of weeks, but they should
gradually fade. Lucky for you they’re only surface scratches.”

Danny turned his head this way and that, looking at
his face from different angles. “Hmm... A couple of scars might make me look
kind of…err… sexy. What do you think?”

Nicola laughed. “In your dreams, lover boy.”

Danny pulled her down onto the bed and kissed her,
playfully. Then he reached down and began to stroke her. Nicola moaned.

“Soft, so soft,” he breathed.

Suddenly, without warning, he turned her onto her stomach,
put his hand on her back and entered her savagely from behind.

They made love with such intensity it was a brutal
act, completely devoid of love, driven solely by a need so strong it consumed
them both.  As Danny held her down, he realized that her desire for this brutal
act was just as intense as his need to inflict it on her.
As he savagely thrust inside her, she cried out
as the pleasurable pain surged through her body like nothing she experienced
before. Nicola pushed her body against his, wanting more, until neither could
hold back as every nerve in their body cried out for release. Then the fires
consumed them.

Their naked passion had been such an intensely violent
act; it shocked Nicola like nothing before. As Danny slept peacefully beside
her, she lay awake until well into the night trying to understand what had
taken place between them. Finally, she drifted into a troubled sleep, haunted
by demons that rose up from the past.

* * *

 They slept late and breakfasted in the hotel dining
area saying nothing about what had occurred last night. When they finished,
they hurried upstairs and packed. While Nicola put the finishing touches to her
make-up, Danny carried the luggage to the car.

He opened the door of the SUV and slid the bags across
the back seat, unzipped his tote and removed the black plastic bag hidden at
the bottom. He carried it to the dumpster at the back of the hotel and tossed
it inside. He picked up some flattened cardboard boxes lying propped up against
the back of the dumpster and tossed them on top. He hurried through the back
door and up the fire escape stairs. When he walked in the room he could hear
Nicola in the bathroom singing.

“How are you doing, Nic? Nearly ready?” he called
through the door. His eyes skimmed the room and noticed the pillow he slept on
had dark red smudges where his face had lain. He flipped it over and tossed
another on top, in casual disarray.

“Just checking to make sure we haven’t forgotten
anything,” Nicola said as she wandered into the room and looked around. “Have
you seen my purse?”

“I saw it somewhere over there near the television
earlier.”

Nicola found per purse under a discarded towel. She
picked it up and hurried out the door. Danny took one last look around the
room, and closed the door.

When the elevator reached the lobby, Danny handed the
keys of the SUV to Nicola and said, “You go ahead and warm up the engine while
I settle the bill.”

“Checking out?” the woman behind the reception desk
smiled politely as she put the finishing strokes to the computer keyboard. The
expression on her face barely changed when she glanced up at the face of the
tall blond-haired man with deep red welts running down both cheeks.

Acutely aware that the marks on his face were not
hidden by the barely discernible day-old growth of blond beard, Danny gave her
a hesitant smile that turned to a wince, as he handed her the room key card.
“Yes, room 301. Thanks.”

When the woman took the card her eyes held a question
mark he chose to ignore.

“I hope you enjoyed your stay with us, Mr. Richards.”

Danny nodded. “Yes, we did, Thank you.”

The woman entered the data into the computer, and
asked, “Shall I put this on your American Express card?”

Danny nodded again, and answered, “Yes,” then watched
as she printed up the receipt and handed it to him.

“Thank you, Mr. Richards. Have a nice day.”

As he walked through the lobby and out the front door
he sensed the woman’s eyes following him.

The phone in the office rang and the receptionist
pulled her eyes away from the retreating figure, shook her head and shrugged.
“None of my business,” she said to no one in particular as she stepped into the
office and picked up the phone.