Cage Of Night Part 14

"Except Myles."

She wore an emerald green sweater and jeans today. Her s.h.i.+ning dark hair was pulled back into a playful little ponytail with an emerald green ribbon.

"You don't understand about Myles," she said.

"No, I guess I don't."

"I don't love Myles."

"Really?"

"I don't even want to see Myles."

"Then why do you see him?"

"That's the part I can't tell you."

"Oh."

"Maybe someday I will."

I thought of Josh again. Making a fool of yourself over women and all. And how they like it.

"I'll wait for you, Cindy."

I ached all over. It was like having the love flu. Every ounce of flesh, every piece of bone ached to possess Cindy Marie Brasher.

"That's sweet of you, Spence."

"I mean it."

"I know you mean it. And that's why it's so sweet. But for right nowa"I don't know what to do, Spence. You can't help mea"n.o.body can."

Then she looked at her watch. "I really have to get back with the girls, Spence."

"I know."

"I just want you to know that I'm sorry for how I've acted the past week or so. I really am. I was a real b.i.t.c.h to you."

"Don't say that about yourself, Cindy."

"It's true, Spence. A real b.i.t.c.h." She looked about to cry suddenly. "Maybe that'll all change someday, Spence. Maybe we can go back to how things were between us."

"G.o.d, Cindy, I sure hope so."

And then she was gone.

Again.

Maybe forever.

I just sat there in a kind of stupor.

And now when I looked at the farmers, I didn't feel superior at all.

Oh, no, when you looked at all their smiles and happiness, you knew that these people knew the secrets to a successful life. Their haircuts might be funny, and their clothes might be four or five seasons out of date, and their conversations might sound kind of dorky, but they looked happy and content.

I got up and left, even though I had absolutely no place to go.

Richard Mitch.e.l.l, KNAX-TV: "Earlier in the day, there was some hope among the lawyers that their client would be granted a stay of execution. But Justice Stoddard of the Supreme Court has turned down the last minute plea. Now the only person who can save the prisoner is the Governor. And that's unlikely. This is a Governor who was elected on the promise of bringing back capital punishment to this state."

Tape 22-D, October 15. Interview between Risa Wiggins and her client in the Clark County Jail.

A: You said it was like being paralyzed?

C: Yeah. Right after I looked down the well, I had this kind of seizure. I mean, I was afraid my arms and legs were going to break, I was throwing myself around so hard.

A: What do you think it was?

C: (Angry) What do I think it was? Are you kidding? It was the f.u.c.king alien down in the well.

From a Police Report-September 2, 1903 One of the regular drunks from Carney's Tap found her down by the river. He claimed that he was there relieving himself on his way home. He said he screamed when he saw what had been done to her. Several people in the neighborhood testified that they heard his scream.

This one was even worse than the one who got her head cut off. I know we're not supposed to put personal opinions in these reports but I need to, Chief. There's no other way I can tell you how awful it was.

He's torn all her clothes off and then cut off her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and fingers, and then dug out her eyes, same as the first one.

I saw this racc.o.o.n crouched under this bush watching me. He had one of her b.l.o.o.d.y fingers in his mouth.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

Just about seven hours later, that same Sat.u.r.day night, the murders happened, and my life would never be the same again.

After the mall, I went home and laid on my bed and read some old Theodore Sturgeon stories. People don't read him a lot these days but they should because he's not only one of the best science fiction writers of all time, he's one of the best writers period. I look on him as the patron saint of f.u.c.k-ups. He was sort of a f.u.c.k-up himself, from what I've been able to read about him. Takes one to know one.

"You do what I tell you to, Romeo?" Josh said when he came into my room after taking his Sat.u.r.day night date shower. He had on a starched white b.u.t.ton down s.h.i.+rt, jeans, and a pair of cordovan penny loafers without pennies and without socks. He was also wearing about a quart-and-a-half of Brut.

"Pretty much," I said.

I told him about meeting her at the mall.

"Sounds promising."

"It does?" I said.

"Sure. Sounds like he's got some kind of hold on her and she's trying to break away."

"What kind of hold could he have on her?"

"Who knows? She had those mental problems, you know."

"Yeah. But so what?"

"Maybe she did some real crazy s.h.i.+t and he knows about it and says he'll tell everybody about it if she doesn't keep going out with him. I mean, face it, she's a little bit psycho."

I got mad. I couldn't help it. I didn't like to hear her talked about that way.

"She isn't a psycho. She just had a breakdown."

"Only psychos have breakdowns, Romeo." He grinned at me and I couldn't be mad at him any more. "When you get to be a little older, you'll understand stuff like that."

"I will, huh?"

"Yeah." He grinned again. "So what's up for tonight?"

"Probably go out and drive around."

"Alone?"

"Yeah."

"Boy, you really know how to live. Excitement piled on excitement."

"Better than standing around watching a bunch of high schoolers have puking contests."

The grin again. "I guess I couldn't argue with that one."

He gave me a jaunty salute and left.

When I was younger, I used to go uptown on Sat.u.r.day night just to watch the arrests for drunk and disorderly. Small town like this, that can be a major source of excitement.

I did pretty much the same thing this Sat.u.r.day night, except I drove around doing it.

I drove past "Harley & Co." which is the biker bar; and "Blood Sweat & Tears," which is where the construction gangs hang out; and then I drove real slow past "Bronco Billy's," which is where the country western folks congregate.

The problem was, by nine o'clock, I'd driven past them eight, nine times each and I still hadn't seen anybody come catapulting out the door and land on his head on the pavement and then get up and start punching it out with the bouncer who'd kicked him out, to be followed by sirens and gendarmes.

I was on one of my last pa.s.ses, losing all hope, when I saw the flasher on top of a cop car go on behind me. So did his siren.

He pulled me over.

"You can get the chair for this," Garrett smiled when he walked up to my window.

"I really do something wrong?"

"Light's out on your back plate."

"Oh."

"But I'm not going to give you a ticket."

"I appreciate that."

I noticed that, as always, he had his hand on the b.u.t.t of his weapon.

"How're things going?" he said.

"Oh, you know."

"She's still seeing f.u.c.k-face, isn't she?"

"Myles?"

"Uh-huh."

"For the time being, anyway."

'"For the time being,'" he said. "That sounds like something she probably told you."

"Matter of fact it is."

He shook his head. "About 95% of what women tell you is bulls.h.i.+t. You got to get a lot smarter about p.u.s.s.y, Spence. You really do. For your sake."

Not only had Garrett become a swaggering cop, no longer recognizable as the kid I'd known, now he was an expert on women in general and Cindy in particular. Like Josh.

"We got to get her away from that sonofab.i.t.c.h," he said.

At first, I was kind of touched by what he said. He liked me enough that he wanted to help me get Cindy.

"She deserves a lot better."

And I knew suddenly that he wasn't talking about me.

He was talking about himself.

"A lot better," he said again.

Then he patted my car door with his hand and said, "Well, see you around, Spence."

"Yeah."