Double Dose, page 3
He gave her a surprised look but never hesitated.
“This isn’t a PDA?” he said as he wrapped her hand in his.
She nodded at the empty desert road stretching before them. “I don’t call this public.”
(“Okay, going in.”)
Rhys gave her hand a squeeze. “This is nice. So simple but…nice.”
Daley only smiled and waited for Pard. She didn’t have to wait long.
(“All done.”)
That was quick.
(“Well, his emotions are all up front.”)
And…?
(“He is suffused with happiness being with you and holding your hand.”)
Aww…really?
(“Really.”)
Daley felt bad now for doubting him.
(“You have nothing to fear from this man, Daley.”)
She returned Rhys’s hand squeeze. “Yeah, this is nice.”
Nicer than you’ll ever know.
5
Elis waited until after sundown before driving down to the trailer park, cursing himself for his compulsiveness. But he had to know.
He would have preferred full dark because he knew his Land Rover would stick out among all the residents’ economy cars. But he’d never been to Kendrick’s home, and he’d need some ambient light to find it.
The so-called streets in the park were little more than narrow sandy lanes, and poorly marked, but eventually he found 46 Iguana Lane—a double-wide mobile home with no signs of life. He stopped in front of it, got out, and knocked on the door.
“He ain’t home,” said a male voice behind him.
Elis turned to see a portly, bald, elderly fellow standing by the rear of the Land Rover.
Damn. He’d hope to bring this off without being noticed. Well, he couldn’t very well ignore the man, so…
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Truck’s been gone all day. Reason I know is we share a parking area that he usually hogs.”
This was more information than Elis needed or cared to know.
“Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“He don’t clear his schedule with me, mister. What you want with him? Gonna send him back to jail?”
From the man’s tone Elis gathered that news like that would make his day.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because he’s a mean sonovabitch and it’s only a matter of time before he fucks up again.”
“Well, I assure you, I have no such authority and none of that is any of my concern.” Elis climbed back behind the wheel. “Good evening to you, sir.”
As he drove away he checked the rearview and saw the man staring after him, shaking his head. No surprise that Jeffrey “Karma” Kendrick was not a good neighbor, but where had he been all day? He certainly hadn’t spent it disposing of the Duad’s remains. And where was he now?
The possibilities seemed endless. Elis had given him five thousand as a down payment. Had that much cash in hand proved too much of a temptation? Had he driven to Vegas or the like for a bender of gambling and whoring?
Elis almost hoped that was the explanation, because he found the current situation more than a little unsettling: He’d sent out a killer to make the Duad disappear and the killer had disappeared instead.
Who was this woman? Really…who was she?
6
The full moon was high as Rhys drove them back into Nespodee Springs. Dinner had been sumptuous. Great flavor and great big portions of meatballs, hot and sweet sausage, spaghetti, and Sunday gravy. Mama’s Meatball in Brawley…Daley made a point to remember that place.
“Oh, I meant to tell, you,” he said. “Remember that teenager who collapsed outside the café on Friday?”
“Hard to forget.” Yeah…Wynny. She especially remembered how her friend had screamed at Daley not to touch her—Get your hands off her now! “Is she all right?”
“She seems to be fine, but the weird thing is…you know that scaly patch on my back?”
“You called it ‘the Pendry Patch.’”
“Right!” He grinned. “You remember. Well, anyway, she came home from the hospital yesterday and noticed hers is gone.”
Why was he telling her this?
“You’re probably wondering why I’m telling you this—”
She laughed. “You just read my mind.”
“Well, she’s blaming you.”
Daley hadn’t seen that coming. “Me?”
“Yes, you. She says while you were pretending to help her you were really putting a spell on her.”
“I’d think she’d be thanking me.”
“Well, no. Not in our family. If you don’t have the Pendry Patch, you’re not a real Pendry. So she’s starting to get shunned by the other kids.”
Daley shook her head in dismay. “Teenage girls can be brutal.”
She remember the minor hells she passed through as the new kid with the funny first name—she quickly became “Skanka Daley”—who didn’t belong to everyone’s online hang at the time, Myspace.
“I just thought you should know that you’re now officially a witch,” he said as he pulled around to the rear of Daley’s building.
She remembered how Pard had gone into Wynny to try to help.
Pard? Did you do anything while you were in her?
(“I started dissolving that clot in her lung.”)
Anything else?
(“Well, I noticed this little anomaly that was impacting her skin so I corrected it.”)
Can’t resist, can you?
(“I’m still determining my abilities and limits.”)
So now I’m a witch.
(“You’ve been called worse.”)
Yeah, she had.
“Great dinner,” she said as she kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks.”
“How about I walk you to your door.”
“That’s okay,” she said.
“Sure?”
She sensed his desire. She’d taken him to her bed just three nights ago and it had been good until the earthquake had interrupted. She hated to disappoint him, but it simply wasn’t in her tonight. She couldn’t tell him the real reason, so she made up a lame one.
“Just too tired tonight. Call me in the morning.”
She hurried up the steps, waved from the door, then went inside. She watched from the kitchen window as he waited a few heartbeats, then drove off.
“Think he’ll call?” she said.
(“Only death or dismemberment will stop him.”)
She sighed. “Okay, then. Let’s find something mindless on TV.”
She needed to shut down her brain and just veg before trying to find sleep in the bed where she’d been attacked.
7
“Checkmate,” Rhys said.
He’d been looking forward to another bout of fantastic lovemaking with Daley tonight, and had been crushed when she’d shot him down. He should have seen that coming because she’d been…what? How to describe her tonight? Not cool, not aloof…distracted. That was it. She’d said she’d had a stressful day, and maybe she had, but tonight she’d been like not all there, like a part of her had been somewhere else.
God, he was drawn to her, like the proverbial moth to a flame. So many little things about her turned him on. Her knowing eyes, that enigmatic Mona Lisa smile, and, like tonight, the way she dunked her biscotti into her cappuccino and bit off the foamy end, and dipped again…he’d wanted her so bad. But, alas…
So he’d come home with the intent of indulging in a little tequila. Okay, maybe a lot of tequila. But as he was ferrying the bottle of Patrón Silver toward his room he passed Cadoc’s door and realized they’d missed their regular Saturday night chess game. Well, why not? He’d knocked and they’d started playing.
As usual for their games, the light in Cadoc’s heavily curtained suite was limited to one small gooseneck lamp with a high-intensity bulb sharply focused on the board.
“Ungh?” Cadoc said. His flaking, papery, gray-skinned hand floated out of the shadows, hovered over the board, then tipped his king onto its side. “Ungh!”
Rhys didn’t beat Cadoc very often. He’d seemed distracted tonight, just like Daley. Was it catching?
“You didn’t play to your usual level, dear brother,” Rhys said as he began to set up for a second game. “And I’m the one who’s drinking. Anything wrong?”
A note dropped onto the board.
Things on my mind
“Oh? Anything I can help with?”
No worries.
How was your date?
“Oh, you know about that?” Rhys wasn’t surprised. Cadoc knew more than he should about many things. “It was fine, although her mind seemed somewhere else. Much like yours tonight, and Dad’s all day. What’s the matter with everybody?”
Papa?
“Yeah. He was fine all the way back from San Diego but fell into a black mood as soon as we got back here. When Elder Baughan showed up with a problem he wanted to discuss, Dad wouldn’t even see him. I wound up listening to him.”
Problem?
“Yeah, his granddaughter Wynny—you know, the one who wound up in the hospital with that clot on her lung? Well, when she got home from the hospital yesterday she discovered that her Pendry Patch was gone. The Elder is all upset because her sibs and her friends are shunning her, and he wants Dad to do something about it. I made nice-nice and promised Dad would be in touch, but really—what can anyone do about that?”
Her patch is gone?
“Yeah, completely, according to her grandfather.”
Did the hospital do
something to her?
Rhys shrugged. “Who knows? She blames Daley.”
No note this time, just a higher pitched “Ungh?”
“Apparently Daley was trying to help her after the clot hit and she couldn’t breathe, and she says Daley put a spell on her.”
Daley touched her?
“I guess so. I wasn’t there so I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
No reason
Another note immediately followed.
I’m not up for another game
Let’s call it a night
“You sure?”
“Ungh.”
As Cadoc began to sweep the pieces off the board into their storage box, Rhys gathered up the notes and handed them across. Then he grabbed his bottle of Patrón.
“Our usual Saturday night game still on?”
Unless I get a better offer
A crummy end to a crummy weekend, Rhys thought as he closed Cadoc’s door behind him. A wasted trip to San Diego, then Daley leaves me high and dry, and now my brother craps out on me.
He cradled the Patrón in his arms. Just you and me, baby. Just you and me.
8
(“Someone’s at the door.”)
Pard’s voice jarred her from her snooze in front of the TV. She’d come across Galaxy Quest while channel surfing and stopped to watch. Though she’d seen it at least thirty times, she never could pass up Galaxy Quest. With adventure, laughs, visuals, and tons of heart, it had relaxed her so much she’d dozed off half way through.
She shook herself awake in time to hear a knock-knock-knock from the kitchen. A sudden fear seized her.
You don’t think it’s Karma, do you?
(“I told you, he’s gone. It’s our guide from Saturday morning.”)
You’re sure?
(“Well, I’m reasonably certain, but I can’t be sure until we walk into the kitchen and see a note on the floor inside the door.”)
She glanced at her phone—almost midnight—then noticed what Pard was wearing: striped flannel pajamas and a matching night cap.
What’s with the weird getup?
(“Well, you’d fallen asleep so I prepared for bed.”) He morphed into Jason Statham. (“But if you feel you need protection—”)
How about just your usual self?
(“You’re no fun.”)
He reverted to his customary sandy-haired, jean-clad self.
Can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I.
(“Well, I had no one to talk to so—”)
She started for the kitchen, praying Pard was right about who was knocking, and sighed with relief when she saw a now-familiar sheet of note paper just inside the door.
Can we talk?
“Hello, there,” she said. “I expected you to come by last night.”
She wished he had. If he’d been around, Karma would have had to make other plans.
I was indisposed
That could mean anything, but she didn’t pursue it.
“Yeah, so was I. But now that you’re here, I have so many questions after seeing that video.”
Of course.
For instance?
“Like what are the Visitors? Aliens?”
“Others”
Well, that had been obvious, but she took it to mean that he didn’t know. Maybe no one knew.
“And why were they so blurry? No one knows what they look like?”
Our eyes can’t see their color
Another note quickly followed…
Or their shape
Different geometry
What’s that mean?
(“I think he means their colors are ones our retinas can’t perceive and our brains can’t reconcile their shapes with anything we know.”)
So the filmmakers took a shortcut and just blurred the images?
(“So I would assume. Ask him when we can see disk two.”)
“What about the rest of the film?”
Sorry
not possible
“Why not? Can’t we just sneak back like we did Saturday morning?”
films taken away
What did that mean? Had their little excursion been discovered?
“Who took them away?”
Wynny Baughan
says you’re a witch
“Don’t change the subject. Are you telling me I won’t see disk two?”
Working on it
Patience
Not one of my strong points.
(“I know, but let’s give him time.”)
As if we have a choice.
Another note slipped through.
Wynny?
“Okay, okay. Yes, I heard. She says I cleared her Pendry Patch.”
You know about
Pendry Patch?
“Obviously I do.”
She didn’t feel a need to explain that she’d seen one on Rhys’s back when they’d been in bed.
Did you clear it?
What do I say?
(“Feel free to lie if you want.”)
I’d rather not. He’s been pretty straight with us.
(“Except about who he is.”)
“Do you believe that’s possible?” she said.
Not an answer
I know you can heal
Oh, crap.
“Why do you think that?”
Told you
I watch
I listen
(“Yes, he did tell us that.”)
“And just what have you heard?”
A healed ulcer
Another note:
Deputy thinks you
cured daughter’s tumor
(“He’s got good ears.”)
So what do I tell him?
(“The truth, I guess.”)
The truth is overrated.
(“This is the new you, remember?”)
Ah, well. Okay…here goes…
“I can, in a way, under certain conditions, heal certain things.”
She’d never uttered those words before.
You healed Wynny’s Patch?
“In the course of starting to dissolve her lung clot, yeah. It sort of happened.”
(“‘Sort of’?”)
A long pause followed…to the point where Daley wondered if Note Man was still out there. She was about to call out to him when…
I have Pendry Patch all over
Severe
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
(“Now we know why he hides.”)
Ruined voice too
I have a feeling I know what’s coming next.
And sure enough…
Could you heal me?
Well, Pard…can you?
(“Total body…that’s a big order. I can make the attempt. But he’ll have to show himself and face you. I can’t get in without physical contact.”)
“We can give it a try,” she said. “But there has to be contact between us. I have to touch your skin to make this work.”
You would not like.
Repulsive
“Let me be the judge of that. Anyway, it’s my worry, not yours. Tell me when.”
Tonight?
Doesn’t want to waste any time, does he?
(“I gather he’s been afflicted all his life. I’m sure he’s had enough. More than enough.”)
“Sure. I guess.”
Please turn out lights
“How will we see?”
Moonlight
“Okay.”
She turned off the lamp in the front room, then doused the kitchen overhead. Her hand rested on the doorknob but didn’t turn it. Not yet. Standing in darkness, letting a stranger into her house near the midnight hour. It seemed reckless. But in this instance it seemed right. She pulled open the door…
A tall, hoodied, rail-slim figure stood on her landing. As was his habit, he’d loosened the bulb over the doorframe, but the high, bright moon outlined him in pale light. He held a pen in one hand and a note pad in the other. His face was invisible within the shadow of the hoodie, just as it had been on Saturday morning.
The moonlight coming through the door and the window over the sink, augmented by the glow seeping in from the big front window, rendered the kitchen table easily visible. She gestured to it.
“Come in. Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?”
My God! she thought. I sound totally inane.
He grunted “Ungh-ungh.”
Pard had taken a position by the kitchen sink. (“That sounds like an ‘Uh-uh.’”)
Pocketing the pad and pen, the figure stepped in and dropped onto one of the chairs along the long side of the oblong table. He kept his hands out of sight on his lap. His face remained in the deep shadow within his hoodie. Daley left the door open and sat opposite him. She realized if she was holding his hands while Pard went in, he wouldn’t be able to write on his pad. Well, they’d just have to wing it.
Here we go. Ready?
(“Ready.”)
