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Authors: J. C. Gatlin

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This
didn't escape Mallory's attention either.

“You’re
the best, Lover Boy,” she yelled to
him,
and in a
movement so small but so big he turned, smiled, and nodded to her, in front of
the entire crowd. His gesture was caught on the jumbo-
tron
for everyone to see.

Unfortunately,
this time he struck out.

As the
team ran back to the dugout, Kim and Mallory got up out of their seats, left
the Doctor alone and headed to the ladies room.

“This is
the worst set-up ever,” Kim said. Near the concession stand underneath
bleachers, they waited in line. “I'm never letting you live this one down.”

“He's
just trying to look hip and young.”

Kim noted
both derision and sympathy mingled in Mallory's glance. She started to protest,
but was interrupted when a man called out to them. Turning, she saw him push
his way through the crowd.

The man
waved and yelled Mallory's name.

“Addison?”
Mallory stuttered, surprised. He was wearing a suit and tie with a baseball
cap. She almost didn’t recognize him. “Addison, what are you doing here?”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

11

Final Inning

 

“I’ve
been looking for you,” Addison said, out of breath. He looked oddly out of
place, wearing a suit and tie with a baseball cap on his head. “I've been
looking for you everywhere.”

He
glanced at Kim,
then
studied Mallory. They were
standing in line for the ladies restroom and he stepped in line with them.
“Doctor Whitman said he was escorting the two of you to this exhibition charity
baseball game.”

“You came
all the way out to Tampa?” Mallory touched his arm. “Is everything alright?”

He
shrugged, as if questioning whether or not he heard her correctly. Reaching
out, he took hold of her hand. “I have some news to tell you. Bad news
,
 
I’m
afraid.”


Pudd’n
Toes… No!” A glazed look of despair spread over her
face. “What is it?”

“I'm
afraid I will have to go out of town for a few days.” He gripped her hand.
“On business.”

Mallory’s
face scrunched as if she was concentrating to understand.

“You
drove all the way out here to tell me you were leaving town for a few days?”
she asked.
 

Pudd’n
Toes, please. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a stalker.”

“I’m
headed to the airport right now and I’m in a fantastic hurry,” he said. “And I
didn’t want you to worry that I was missing.”

Mallory
laughed, as if suddenly understanding. She glanced at Kim then turned back to
him. “Because of Ross,” she said with unwelcome frankness. “You didn’t want me
to think you’d disappeared on me like Ross did to Kim.”

Kim
sighed as the line moved forward. It was their turn next.  Addison
continued. “But I can cancel my plans if you’d rather I stay close by... in
case something happens.”

Kim
looked up as Mallory laughed.

“Get out
of here.” Mallory laughed and gently pushed him. It was their turn to walk into
the ladies restroom and they were now holding up the line. They stepped forward
as she continued talking. “We can manage on our own.”

“I just
don’t want to leave you girls alone.” He grabbed her hand, holding her back.
Sudden anger lit his eyes. “And you are alone, right?”

Mallory
laughed again and pulled her hand from his grip. “I swear you say the oddest
things some times.”

An
awkward pause grew tight with tension until Mallory finally wrapped her arms
around him.

“Everything
will be fine. We’ll see you when you get back.” She brushed his beard with her
fingers, her breath hot in his ear. “My credit card payment is past due…”

“I’ll
mail them a check.” He smiled and winked.

With
that, Kim and Mallory disappeared into the restroom. Addison stood watching
them a moment, when his cellular phone buzzed inside his breast pocket. He
removed it from his jacket and flipped it open.

“Hello,”
he answered, then turned back toward the entrance. Carrying on a conversation,
he tossed his ticket into a metal garbage can and left the stadium.

 

 

The
bottom of the ninth ushered in and Kim, distracted, didn’t even realize it
until she asked, “Wait, is this the last inning?”

“They’re
quarters,” Mallory corrected her, shaking her head in mock embarrassment.

They were
back in their seats again, and this time Mallory was sitting in the middle
between Kim and Dr. Whitman. In response to Kim’s question, he said, more
sighed, “Not if they don’t score. They’re tied.” Then he motioned to Mallory. “
Gunz
is up this inning.”

Mallory
leaned forward and looked out onto the field. The game was tied. The bases were
loaded. This was actually kind of exciting.

Gunz
stepped up to home
plate, beginning a ritual that all fans knew well. Feet spread, he leaned back
on his hips, rotated to his left a couple of times, then to his right.
Loosened his shoulders.
He tapped his bat on the edge of the
plate, settled in, and Mallory rose. The stadium was silent.

A young,
unknown closer for Tampa stared him down, wound up,
threw
.

It was a
good pitch.
Gunz
leaned back.
Swung.
CRACK! Every head in the stadium
raised
, following the
ball as it shot out of the park.

Cheers
erupted in the stadium. It brought every player off the bench and they swarmed
the field. Children from the cancer center rushed out, and they jumped, hugged
and high-fived one another at the mound with the athletes.

The
Doctor thanked the girls for a wonderful afternoon and invited them to get
drinks with him. His hair dye was now running down in orange streaks along his
forehead and neck. The girls couldn't take their eyes off it. Mallory declined
his offer, as she and Kim were escorted into the club house as special guests
of
Gunz
Gonzales. 

 

In the
clubhouse, surrounded by a celebrating team, Kim and Mallory found
Gunz
. He greeted the girls and his jersey was unbuttoned
and open, showing off his pectoral muscles.

“I told
you I should’ve worn the chiffon,” Mallory said to Kim. After thirty minutes,
she tossed Kim the keys to her Miata.


Gunz
is taking me into downtown Tampa tonight,” she said
with a wink.

 

Kim drove Mallory’s little Mazda Miata home in the early
setting darkness of winter.
As
expected, she could see Zeus in the front bay window, staring intently out the
glass, waiting for her to return. He barked as she entered the townhome. Zeus
was excited to see her, and Kim fed him and took him outside.

Mrs.
Roundtree
was walking Little Rosie, her Pekingese, at the
same time, and Zeus lit up in a terror, threatening to eat the little dog.
        
Rosie yelped back, tugging on her
leash. Mrs.
Roundtree
had to pick the little fur ball
up in her arms as Kim struggled to hold back Zeus.

“That dog
needs tranquilizers,” she said to Kim, wagging a finger on her free hand.
“Because of that militarized attack dog, the landlord is thinking about adding
a no
pets
clause to all our leases.”

“I heard,”
Kim said as she yanked Zeus back with all her might. She was tugging him across
the lawn back toward her townhome just as the phone was ringing.

Kim could
hear the urgent
brrrrrng-brrrrrng-brrrrrng
from the parking lot, and rushed inside to answer it. Curious and excited now,
Zeus followed. Collapsing into the old recliner in the living room, she reached
for the receiver. “Hello?”

There was
no answer.
Only breathing.

“Is
someone there?”

A quiet,
masculine voice murmured another Pablo Neruda poem across the line. He read it
with a blistering fervor. His voice swelled with an urgent passion that left
Kim breathless. Static crackled again,
then
the line
went silent.

“Ross…
Are you still there?”

He didn’t
answer, but she could hear him breathing.

Rising
out of the recliner, she carried the phone to the front door, its black cord
stretching across the living room. Listening to the breathing on the other end,
Kim shut and locked the door.

She then
moved to the front bay window
and
 
peeked
outside. The moon had long
since vanished and the night sky was uncharacteristically black and forbidding;
an angry wind howled and rattled the glass. She paid no attention to it as she
stared out into the dark parking lot. There, she noticed it.

A red BMW.

There
were no lights. The car was not running. But someone was sitting in the
driver’s seat, watching her.

Addison
Gaynor
, she thought.

“Are you
still there?” Her voice drifted into a hushed whisper.

For a
second, she considered stepping out-side. 
What was he doing out there?
Didn't he have a plane to catch? Or was he waiting for Mallory? Or was he
watching her?
 Kim focused her eyes, trying to see through the night.
The figure was merely a silhouette inside the car. It may not even have been
human. Possibly a coat or the head rest. Or maybe it wasn’t even Addison’s car
at all.

She could
still hear him breathing into the phone.

“Hello?”
When she tried to speak, her voice wavered. “Addison?”

The line
clicked and a dial tone blared.

Startled,
Kim pulled the blinds shut. As the dial tone shrieked from the receiver in her
hand, she returned it to the base on the end table.

She
caught herself glancing uneasily over her shoulder.

I’m just
spooking myself
, she thought and laughed at her uneasy
nature. When she opened the blinds again, the car was gone. A moment later, a
silver Porsche pulled up and parked. Mallory stepped out with
Gunz
Gonzales. Taking hold of his hand, she led him inside
her townhome.

She’d
better be more careful
, Kim thought. She
wondered if Addison was trying to catch her in the act.

Curling
up in her old recliner, Kim sat with every light on in the townhome. She heard
every creak as the old building settled and jumped each time the wind rapped on
the windows. She saw faces from the corners of her eyes, but when she turned
her head, there was no one there. 
Ghosts
, she thought.

When the
sun finally rose the next morning, Kim had been awake for hours waiting. It
didn’t matter. Later today, she would be reunited with Ross.

He was
waiting for her.

 
 

* * * * *
* *

 

Deep in
the wooded areas and cow pastures behind the Flying J Truck Stop, police found
the blue
Camero
and towed it away. Afterwards, four
patrol men combed the lake.

The blood
trail was the first indication that foul play had occurred. And searching the
dark waters and swampy marshlands, two officers found the body lying face down
in the brush. When they turned it over, they found Ross McGuire's corpse, stiff
with rigor mortis and writhing with insects.

From his
right eye socket protruded a wooden awl handle.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

12

Dark Places

 
 

Friday,
January 14, 2000

6:30 PM

 

“Oh,
Ross...”

Kim sat
in her bedroom and stared critically at the image reflected in the vanity
mirror, wondering if she could ever look like Julia Roberts in 
The
Runaway Bride
. Or even 
Pretty Woman
. She styled her hair for an
hour before deciding to wear it down. Five minutes later, she debated whether
to pin it back up again.

As her
mind raced with everything she wanted to say when she saw him, her hands,
hidden from sight, twisted nervously in her lap.
Where have you been? Why
have you been so elusive? Will things be different now?
Then Mallory's
voice echoed somewhere deep inside, saying,
“Are you sure it's Ross who set
this up?”

Shaking
her head, she abolished all the dread from her thoughts. She focused on Ross.

Zeus lay
at her feet and watched her intently. She glanced down at him,
then
gave him a quick pat between the ears.

Moving
back to the other side of the loft, she flipped through the assortment of tan
and navy clothes crammed into the impossibly small four-by-two closet. She
literally had nothing to wear. Sighing, she wanted to cry.

Tonight
was the night
, she told herself. After five weeks,
four days and fifteen and a
half  hours
, she was
about to see him again. She had so much to say.
So many
questions to ask.
But beyond that, she really just wanted him to hold
her again.
To make love to her.
To sit up into the wee
hours of the night talking about all the little things that had occurred during
the day and all the little things lovers tell to each other in the night.

That’s
when it occurred to her. The little white chiffon slip of a dress hung limp in
the closet.
She couldn’t wear that, could she? Could she even wear a
bra in
that dress?
Kim smiled, and slipped the dress
off the hanger.

It was
perfect.
Ross would die when he saw her walking into the dimly lit Italian
restaurant wearing this dress. Fall out of his chair, hit the floor, and die.

Zeus
cocked his head, still watching her from his position on the floor next to the
vanity. Kim held up the dress for him to see.

“He'll
hit the floor when he sees me in this,” she told him. He let out a short
whimper then yawned.

Ignoring
him, Kim slipped into the dress and adjusted the sequined straps over her
shoulders. She studied her reflection in the mirror, and nodded.
Sexy.
Daring.
 
So unlike anything the Old Kim would wear. It
was perfect.

She shook
her head again, banishing all the doubt into the darkest recess of her mind. An
expression of satisfaction shined in her eyes. It
was
Ross who gave her
the poetry book. It
was
Ross who was calling her. And it
would be
Ross waiting for her at the restaurant. And once he saw her in this dress, he’d
be waiting for her to forgive him and take him back.
Waiting
to rekindle their love.

Just like she had done time and again.

Kim
stepped out of the bedroom loft and made her way down the spiral staircase.
Zeus immediately jumped up and followed her. A knock at the door startled them
both as Zeus rushed past her down the steps and headed to the door. She
cautiously walked over and looked through the peep hole.

The
psychiatrist was standing on the porch. He knocked again. Hesitating, Kim
sighed, glanced at Zeus then opened the door.

Dr.
Whitman grinned.

“Sorry to
disturb you,” he said. He was now wearing khakis and a navy sports jacket. His
gray hair looked natural and complimented him better than the odd colored dye. “I
felt like we got off to an awkward start at the ball park.”

“You
don't need to apologize.” She hesitated at the door. “You look better.
Normal.”

Dr.
Whitman chuckled and ran a hand through his gray hair. He then held it up to
her, revealing his palm. “No more Indian Summer,” he said.

Kim
smiled at him and opened the door further.

“I would
offer you something to drink, but I'm actually on my way out.”

“I come
bearing a gift.” He held up a wrapped package with a bow. She looked at it and
then up at his persuasive grin. Hesitantly, she let him inside. Zeus growled
and Kim pushed him away.

Dr.
Whitman's mouth twitched with
amusement
 
as
she tried to restrain the dog. With
her other hand, she took the package. Looking at it while she struggled to hold
Zeus, it was her turn to apologize. “My hands are kind of full.”

He nodded
and took the package from her, then ripped away the brightly colored paper.
Inside a white box was a simple pink dress with hand-stitched golden glass
beads. “It's for standing you up on New Year's Eve. Mallory told me that you
ruined a dress that night.”

“Actually
the garbage disposal did.” She took the dress and examined it. “But thank you.
You don't know how much I appreciate that.”

“Well,
it's not as nice as the one you've got on.” He laughed a little,
then
shot her a fleeting look. “You look simply stunning.”

Zeus
growled, threatening him.

“I have a
date,” she said and glanced at her watch.

“I guess
you
gotta
be fashionable for war.”

Kim
glared at him. “Excuse me?”

“That was
just a thinly veiled reference to our upcoming date,” he said, holding up his
free hand. “I'm just looking forward to our weekend warrior trip.”

Zeus
barked and lunged; Kim held him back.

“That
does it!” She took the Doberman by the collar and dragged him across the living
room floor.

Pulling
him up the spiral staircase by his collar, he huffed and fought her all the way
upstairs. Finally, she shoved him into the bathroom and shut the door. Zeus was
howling as she turned around.

Dr.
Whitman stood directly behind her.

Kim
jumped, bumping into him.

“What are
you...” she stuttered.

This is my bedroom.”

He
stepped toward her, crowding her personal space. She could hear Zeus barking
and growling in the bathroom.

“It's
alright,” he said to her, his breath hot on her face. “Animals never seem to
like me.”

She
gently pushed him back, away from her. He took a step backwards, giving her
some space.

“I’m
sorry.” His voice lowered. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” He handed her the
box with the dress in it. She gripped the soft fabric of the dress, letting the
box fall to the floor between them. She held the pink dress to her chest,
almost as if it was a shield. She suddenly felt very exposed in the thin
chiffon.

“You’re
in my bedroom,” she said again.

“Kimberly,
I just want to be straight with you.” He spoke in an odd, yet gentle tone.
“You’re a very attractive woman.”

Kim
didn’t want to hear this. She threw the dress down. It landed softly at her
feet. Moving past him, she made her way out the loft and down the spiral steps.
He came down after her. At the base in the living room, he started to reach for
her,
then
shrank back.

“I don’t
mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” he said. “I’ve just been terribly alone
lately. And Addison said that you too were recently… lonely.”

“I’m not
lonely,” she answered in a rush of words. “I’m meeting my boyfriend tonight.
He’s waiting for me.”

“I
apologize.” The doctor shook his head. Now he too looked down at his feet and
mumbled, “I misunderstood when Addison said….well, it doesn’t really matter.”

Flashing
a quick smile, he made his way toward the door. “I’ll just let myself out. I
certainly never meant any…”

“Wait.”
Kim interrupted him. She suddenly realized something. Something she missed
earlier.
Something that superseded the awkward moment.
“When did you last speak to Addison Gaynor?”

“I don’t
know.” He hesitated at the door, as if thinking about the question. “Before the
baseball game, I think. We found his wallet.”

“Is he
really out of town?”
   

“Mr.
Gaynor?” he asked. “I don't know. I suppose. Do you need him? Is something
wrong?”

“No.” Kim
wasn't sure what to say. “He said he was going out of town, but I'm not sure if
he really left.”

“That's
odd. Why would he lie about that?”

“To keep
tabs on Mallory,” she said bluntly.
“To spy on her.”

“Is he
harassing her? Or you?”

“I
wouldn't take it that far.”

“Think
about it Kimberly,” he said. “This could be serious. Has he ever mentioned
having a family out of town?”

“No, not to me at least.
Why?”

“He had
some problems with a girlfriend, maybe she was his fiancée by that time, I
don't know.”

“What do
you mean?”

“I mean a
few years ago he got in trouble with her when she apparently broke off the
relationship. She moved out and got her own place, but Addison wouldn't leave
her alone. He continuously called her and spied on her and genuinely made her
life a living hell.”

“Does
Mallory know about this?”

“I don't
know.”

“We need
to tell her...” Kim glanced at her watch again.
“Tomorrow.
Like I said, I don't want to be late.”

She
grabbed her coat and slipped her arms into it as she led the doctor out of her
townhome. After locking the door, she faced him once again. He uncomfortably
cleared his throat, as if stalling for time.

“I'm
looking forward to this weekend,” he said quietly. “Mallory has told me a lot
about you.”

“Look,
I'm involved with someone.” Her coolness was evidence that she was done with
this conversation and he winced at her words.

“I guess
that would be Ross?” he asked.

“Mallory
didn't mean to lead you on. Ross and I went through a rough patch, but we're
reconciling. I'm meeting him tonight.”

“I didn't
know.”

She let
out a low sigh. “I think it'd be best if you left and didn't call me again. I
don’t mean to be rude.
Just honest.”

With
that, Kim turned and took a step off the porch. Dr. Whitman reached out and
grasped her arm.

“Wait,
Kim,” he said. She hesitated and turned to him. He took a breath. “Addison has
keys to Mallory's home next door.”

Kim bit
her lower lip, waiting. “Yes?”

“Does he
have keys to your home too?”

“No,” she
said defensively.
“Of course not.”

He held
her arm, just below the elbow. His grip tightened. She looked down at this
hand, then back up to meet his gaze.

“Of
course he doesn't,” she said again.

He
released his grip and Kim backed away. Turning again, she was in the parking
lot headed toward the black iron security gates.

She
didn't look back, though she knew the shrink was watching her. She walked
faster, rushing.

Tonight,
she would take the short, direct route to downtown. She wouldn’t walk along
Morris
Munger
Road or take the time to pause at the
bend, to sift through the weeds and discarded trash for the lost engagement
ring. Tonight there wasn’t time.

Ross
McGuire was waiting.

 
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