Hallowed Ground (23 page)

Right, I’d been thinking about the fly-covered bodies rotting in an abandoned shack. Could my life get any more screwed up? Why had I assumed any man would willingly want to be part of it?

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know I should’ve ...” What? Done more to try and make him happy so he’d stay? Change my whole life for him so I didn’t have to be alone?

Kell reached for my hand. “Hey.”

“Don’t be nice to me, Kell. Not now.”

“I can’t help it. You think this is easy for me?”

My eyes finally met his and wished they hadn’t.

“I liked being with you, Julie. But the price of being with you is just too high a price to pay.”

Excellent parting shot.

“Good luck with the band thing,” I said lamely.

Snagging the bottle of tequila, I sought the sanctity of my room.

Curled up in my bed, I heard T-Rex’s monstrous rig pull up, the low murmur of masculine voices in the living room, then quiet.

With the mug forgotten on the coffee table, I swigged directly from the bottle. I had better than a buzz on. If I kept it up, I’d pass out.

Who’d care if I fell face first in my flannel sheets?

I thought about calling Kim. Weren’t girlfriends supposed to share break-up stories?

I debated on calling Kevin. But he’d always been less than impressed with the men I chose, and consequently, less than sympathetic when the relationship ended. He might even think I’d finally gotten my comeuppance, since I was usually the dumper, not the dumpee.

I swallowed another mouthful, but the liquid burning down my throat didn’t wash away the self-reproach.

Who was I to feel sorry for myself, anyway? Rondelle was dead. Harvey would be devastated.

Chloe’s life would be forever changed. Losing a lover because of my own bad choices paled in comparison.

Dizzy, I let my head thunk back into the headboard. My eyes closed. I’d sleep. Forget about everything. Just a little while.

Peaceful sleep was elusive.

I dreamed. Not about Rondelle, or Chloe, or Kell, but Lilly.

I swept back the beaded curtain leading to her domain, and cool, dewy grass tickled my bare feet.

The nauseating scent of Easter lily was in the air, and I couldn’t breathe.

Lilly sat in the center of a pillow-covered bed, holding court, her white gossamer gown cascading into a bridal train. Muted sunlight backlit her into an angel.

I shuddered and told myself it was an illusion.

She beckoned me to a marshmallow chair beside her.

“We need to talk about Kevin.”

Callous Lilly and I never talked. We sniped, argued, and glared. Chatting like old chums was as far out of our realm as this dream. I willed myself to wake up.

Why had my subconscious created a deathbed scene, reminiscent of the one in
Gone With the
Wind
where Melanie begs Scarlett to look after Ashley when she’s gone?

Lilly stared across the field, the yellow sunflowers turned toward her, anxious to bask in her golden glow. “I know you don’t like me.”

I said nothing. Lying to a dying woman served no purpose.

“I don’t like you either.” Her limpid brown eyes met mine. “That’s why I’m taking Kevin with me when I go.”

“No!”

I reached for her; she disintegrated before my eyes. An ear plopped on her lap. Parts of her body began to drop away like chicken from the bone, until nothing remained but a pile of shriveled black chunks.

Then Kevin shuffled into the room, catatonic, wearing shackles and a navy Brooks Brothers straitjacket, his gaze stuck on his blue paper shoes.

I tried to get up. To help him. To save him. My chair distorted. Iron clamps snapped across my arms, around my ankles. A crowd gathered, my dad, a priest, my ex-husband, Ray, Harvey. They eyed me through bulletproof glass.

A metal cap covered my head.

Bud Linderman entered the room, tipped his cowboy hat at me, grinned, and flipped the death switch.

In the next second I was standing at the door of the deserted shack. I had a gun in my hand and blood on my clothes.

Dark shapes littered the space like piles of dirty laundry.

Kell was on the floor, dead. Ben was on the floor, dead. Martinez was on the floor, dead. Flies buzzed everywhere.

“See? I told you she’d do it.”

I whirled to face Lilly.

All that remained was her voice.

I stared in horror at the carnage before me.

“You’ve killed them all,” Lilly said.

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Wrong. If they’re with you, they are as good as dead.”

The bloody heaps had multiplied.

Kevin appeared, dazed.

His white tuxedo pants absorbed the pools of blood, red raced from the hem, faded into watery pink when it reached the waistband.

“Make him pay the high price. Shoot him,” Lilly urged sweetly. “Pull the trigger.”

“No!”

But my arm lifted anyway.

I cried as my thumb released the safety. Screamed as I cocked the slide. Felt the devil snatch my soul as I sited my target.

Kevin came out of his stupor. His eyes went wide with terror.

“Julie, don’t—” he yelled as I squeezed the trigger and killed him.

AFTER THE HORRIFIC DREAM, I STARED AT THE POPCORN-TEXTURE of my ceiling trying to make sense of it. When the phone rang, I shot straight up like a firecracker had exploded beneath my bed.

I squinted at the clock.

Nothing good comes from a 2:49 a.m. wake up call.

“Hello?”

No answer.

A hang-up? I was about to slam the phone back down when I heard soft breathing, followed by the chink of a bottle against the receiver on the other end.

“Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Jules.”

My strained muscles relaxed. “You scared the crap out of me, Kevin.” I shoved pillows aside until my spine connected with the headboard. “Where are you?”

“Home.”

“You okay?”

“No, not really. Lilly ...” He cleared the hoarseness from his throat. “She’s gone.”

I closed my eyes at the sharp pain in his voice. “When?”

“This afternoon. I came home after. Nodded off. When I woke up, I wondered if maybe it’d all been a bad dream.” His labored breathing hummed in the earpiece. The bottle of whatever he was drinking clunked against his phone again. “Has it all been a bad dream? The last few months?”

The bedcovers flew as I hopped up and frantically searched in the darkness for my clothes. “Shit.

Hang on, I’ll be right there.”

“No. Not necessary. I don’t need you.”

The room spun. My toes dug for purchase in the carpet after my heart dropped to my feet.

“What?”

“What I meant was, I don’t need you right now. I didn’t call you so you could rush over here and hold my hand, Julie.”

“What if I want to come over and hold your hand?”

He sighed.

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I asked softly, “Then why did you call me?”

When Kevin didn’t answer, my mind supplied wild reasons, all of them selfishly about me, none probably even close to the truth.

“I just wanted to let you know about Lilly.”

Was I supposed to say thanks? I bit my tongue.

“It’ll be at least another week before I’m back in the office full-time,” he continued. “Her parents have asked me to help tie up loose ends and I ...”

Couldn’t refuse.
Kevin wasn’t a doormat; he was pragmatic. He’d also need to tie up loose ends

before he could move on with his own life. I hoped Lilly’s parents were the type to
let
him move on.

“Is there anything I can do?” I was so used to being on the other end of dealing with grief that my consoling skills weren’t rusty; they were completely corroded.

“Would you call Jimmer in the morning? I’ve hit my limit in being the bearer of bad news.”

“Sure.”

Sounded like he took another swig. “Death messes you up, doesn’t it?”

Kevin’s news added another nasty layer to the gruesome deaths I’d seen today. I shuddered.

“Yeah, it does. Are you sure you don’t want me to come over?”

“No. I’m not sure of anything except I’m relieved it’s done.”

From twenty miles away I actually felt him wince through the phone lines.

“Shit, I’m such a bastard for even thinking it, let alone saying it. But, God, she was in such pain.

And I couldn’t help her.” His sure, strong voice wobbled. “Maybe it’s clichéd, but at least she’s not suffering any more.”

“You’ve done more than anyone could have expected.”

“It wasn’t enough though, was it?”

“Don’t—”

“Sorry. Look. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Kev—”

Too late. He’d hung up.

Half an hour later I sat in my car at Kevin’s condo, smoking the tail end of my Marlboro Light.

The lights were off. Chances were slim he’d fallen asleep.

I’d almost bought his bullshit story about not needing me. Almost. But if it’d been me making the muddled late night phone call, Kevin wouldn’t have asked, he just would’ve shown up on my doorstep.

So here I was. I made space in the overflowing ashtray to stub out my cigarette and shouldered my purse.

As I crept up the redwood steps, I separated his shiny key from the others on my key ring. I shoved it in the lock and quietly swung the door open. Inside, I punched in the code, and waited for the amber light.

I could’ve knocked, but it would’ve been too easy for him to ignore me. I reset the alarm and reluctantly hauled myself up another flight of stairs.

The house was absolutely quiet. Completely void of any light, normal household noises, or the lingering scent of food. Totally creeped me out.

Where was Kevin?

I headed down the narrow, dark hallway toward his bedroom, my fingers trailing along the pebbled texture of the wall as a guide.

Behind me I heard a gun slide snapping back as the cocking mechanism clicked in place.

“Don’t move,” Kevin said, “or I’ll blow your fucking head off.”

I froze. My mouth didn’t.

“Goddammit, Kevin, that isn’t even funny.”

“Julie?”

I heard the surprise in his voice, but didn’t see him, which sent chills up my spine. It was like talking to a ghost. I spun around and glared at nothing.

“Who the fuck were you expecting? The Easter Bunny?”

He revealed his hiding place to be the bathroom, but I still couldn’t see his face. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“No shit.”

“Sorry.”

Nerves made me babble, “How many people have the security access code to your house, anyway?”

“Just you and Lilly.” He dropped the gun by his thigh. “With all the other things on my mind tonight I wasn’t sure I’d reset the alarm.”

“Well, you did.”

“I thought you were . . . hell, I don’t know what I thought.”

“I think you almost shot me. No wonder. This place is like a goddamn cave.”

Kevin walked to the kitchen. Flipped on the under counter lights and set his gun next to the coffee maker. The yellow glow highlighted the deflated set of his shoulders. He didn’t turn around.

“I can’t believe you came,” he said.

“Yeah? I can’t believe you thought I’d stay away.”

Silence.

Berating him didn’t qualify as comfort.

Oh God. My heart hurt just looking at him.

I slipped behind him and wrapped my arms tightly around his waist, burying my face in the warm cotton shirt covering his back.

His hands rested on my forearms. He leaned into me. I leaned into him. I didn’t cry. He didn’t cry. Neither of us said a word.

We stayed locked together in silence for a long, long time.

Finally Kevin squeezed my elbows and untangled my arms from his stomach. “Coffee?”

“No. But I will have whatever you were drinking when you called me.”

“Peach brandy.”

I made a face. “Didn’t know you were a peach brandy fan.”

“I hate the stuff,” he said. “Lilly loved it. Since she won’t be around to drink it ...”

“Peach brandy is fine.”

He turned slowly and pressed his backside into the marble countertop.

No wonder he hadn’t wanted me to come over; his zombie impression was stellar. Bloodshot eyes, two days worth of stubble, deep lines accentuating his lean face. A ratty baby-blue oxford shirt flapped open, leaving his broad chest bare. A pair of faded Hawaiian surfer shorts hung dangerously low on his hips.