The Vigilante (16 page)

Once inside, Martha gestured to the couch. “Have a seat. I’ll just be a minute.” She went to her bedroom, tossed her purse on the bed, and returned to the living room where Lizzie sat, with an expectant look on her upturned face.

“Well, what’s going on?” Lizzie asked. “You wouldn’t tell me anything the last time we talked, but you’re not getting off so easily this time.”

Martha put the kettle on and brought out a few bite-sized cookies. “I don’t know where to begin. Have you ever had a dream where huge, bulky, soft things are tumbling and rolling at you and you can’t get out of the way?”

“I think we’ve all had that dream at one time or another. Things building up on you—is that it?”

Martha sipped her coffee, tasting nothing. “Like you’d never believe. I can tell you some of it, but I don’t know it all, not yet.”

“You’re kidding! Can I help? What can I do?”

“Liz, I’m seeing a doctor.” Martha hesitated. “A psychiatrist, he’s trying to sort out what’s been bothering me these past few months. He says I had a very bad experience when I was small, and now, it’s causing memory lapses. When I know more, I’ll tell you.” Martha squared her shoulders and added, “It’s wonderful to see you. I don’t want to waste a bit of time on dark things. What have you been up to?”

They drank tea, chatted, and watched another
Jane Austen
movie. Enjoying a movie about another time, where only income and status were of major importance, created several relaxed, enchanted hours for them both.

Martha enjoyed this friend like no other. Basking in the glow of their camaraderie, she finally confided, “Now about this male nurse, Bob Chance.” She nearly giggled. “I’ve been seeing him and it could become serious between us, maybe it already has.”

“You mentioned him the last time we met. So things heating up, eh?” Lizzie’s curiosity roared into full gear, her probing eyes demanding more details. “So?”

“I have unbelievably intense feelings for him, but with all my worries, I’m afraid to let things go any farther. I just can’t! I never thought anything like this could happen to me. It’s not fairy tales, Lizzie, it’s real. I know that now. He’s wonderful, he really is!” Martha let out a smothered squeal, like a high school girl. It felt so good to speak of Bob this way!

“You go, girl. I know you had a hard time of it when you lost Chet. If a good man comes along, go for it!” Lizzie lingered a bit longer, then took her leave, waving goodbye with a knowing twinkle in her eyes.

Martha heaved a sigh and headed for the bedroom. “Hope I can catch a few zzz’s. I sure must have been busy last night. God, I’m so tired!”

CHAPTER
17

Serena rose from the bed and stretched herself, much like a large, tawny cat. “I have business tonight, someone to find, and a great idea where to start looking.
The
Paradisio
is a fun place. Fred hangs out there along with his best bud, Denny, our latest resident child predator. From there, I’ll suss out where this wart on the ass of humanity lives. I have business with that dude.

“Denny boy will soon be out offering toys or cookies again, maybe saying he needs help finding his lost puppy, as he hunts his next victim. That man is in need of a a real permanent lesson!”

She felt especially strong tonight as she entered the garage and reached behind the plywood. Satisfied all her supplies were there, she pulled out the box of disguises and applied the heavy make-up of a hooker to her face until she was satisfied she looked like one. “Tight leather pants, boots up to my ass, and not a helluva lot on top—something glitzy and see-through.”

Appraising the heavy make-up, she laughed, ready for a night at her favorite sleazy bar. “I’ll find the rat’s hole, if he’s there with Freddie boy,” she said, her voice nearly a growl of hatred. “I heard his remark about hoisting a few at
The
Paradisio
. I’ve seen them there before. They love that disgusting place—they fit right in.

“I go there for kicks, though it’s really closer to
their
speed, not a place for a good girl like me.” She snickered. “Martha would hate this make-up and she’d have a coronary if she saw herself in this outfit! But a girl’s gotta have a bit of fun now and then, don’t she?”

Her outfit complete, her make-up applied, Serena stepped into the car and pulled out onto the street. “If he shows up with Freddie boy again tonight, I’ll follow the rat and see where he holes up.” Her jaw tight and firm with resolve, she smiled. “If I can take care of one, I can fix another one, too.

Arriving at the sleazy nightclub
,
Serena edged furtively into the smoke-clouded room. Odors of heavily-scented perfume, sweat, and booze lay thick over the crowded throng. Serena wound her way sinuously through the fuggy atmosphere in those high-legged boots and, reaching the back, slipped into a booth, edging far enough back to provide cover as well as a wide view of the patrons.

The bar was filled with mostly men. There were a few females hanging about, though gender confusion reigned supreme in the majority of this crowd. Some females took more interest in each other than in the males present. “What a place,” she murmured. It’s gender-bender around here all the way, with both sexes playing their parts. A good, anything goes, sort of spot for a sick bastard like Fred, and his friend Denny, too. No wonder they come here. They feel right at home.”

She didn’t see Fred or Denny, but ordered from the leather and chain-garbed waitress, or was she a he? Serena wasn’t sure about the waiter-waitress’s sex, nor did she care. Sipping her favorite drink, a stinger, she fended off offers from females and the occasional male wanting to take a turn about the psycho-frenetic dance floor.

The colored lights flashing under the floor gave the dancers a surreal look that made for entertaining surveillance. Women kissing and groping each other, males doing the same with other men were a turn off for Serena, but nothing unusual for this place.
She had no plans to dance tonight, in any case.

It was after midnight before she saw Denny, quietly slinking in, Fred in tow behind him. She had a great view of their booth and giggled to herself at the sight of Fred wincing as he gingerly edged into his seat.

Ass still hurts a little, does it, eh, Freddie boy
?

Denny ordered drinks as the two huddled together taking in the crowd.

Well-known and accepted in the place, the two men still created a bit of a stir. Serena heard laughing, and a man asked in a friendly voice, “How you doin’ there, Fred?”

“Shit, man, what do you think?” he answered.

Another piped up, “How’re they hangin’, Fred? Loose—a little limp?”

Fred’s face grew red. “You son-of-bitch, mind your own business!”

Serena chuckled to herself. Poor Fred had heard it all before, but couldn’t stop his flush at the howl of laughter the remark evoked. She heard him whine to Denny, and she stifled a giggle because his voice had reached an even higher than usual pitch. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” Fred tried to get up from the booth.

Denny wiped the smile off his face. “Aw, let it go, Fred, it’ll die down in time. Everybody knows about it. Forget it.” The evening had definitely lost its glow for Fred, but they hung on. Several tried to express sympathy for him, but he obviously didn’t care anymore. His spirit lay in ruins, as crushed as his gonads had been after she’d stomped them into the ground.

Serena watched them with glee. That the man suffered and bore the brunt of his shame in a public place had no effect on her. “Denny, my boy, wait your turn. It’s coming,” she growled quietly into her glass of booze.

One of the guys from the hospital glanced her way frequently, and she recognized that nosey aide Jake. It made her nervous, but she made no move to leave.
This place is
too much even for the likes of him. Wonder why he comes here.

As Martha, she knew him to be a dreadful busybody. His presence made her feel increasingly uncomfortable. She worried at the possibility of him recognizing her, though she felt certain her costume was good enough to put him off. But, seeing no chance for action this night, she decided to slip quietly away. “As Scarlet O’Hara would say,
‘
Tomorrow is another day.
’
”

Chuckling to herself, she drove home and pulled into the garage. She carefully removed her sexy costume, folded the stuff, and placed it behind the plywood. Entering the house, she casually tossed the boots into the closet, laughing. “She freaks every time she spots these!”

She showered thoroughly, scrubbing the heavy make-up off her face and washing the smoke fumes from her hair as best she could before the familiar fuzziness came over her again. It was not all fatigue as she slipped into the bed and fell into a deep, exhausted, sleep.

***

Martha awakened feeling tired. “I feel all dragged out again this morning, and I think I slept well. Or did I?” Finding it difficult to pull her body out of bed, she lay there, considering her day.

She had another appointment with the psychiatrist, but couldn’t bear to think about it. It frightened her more each visit, while she tried not to imagine the hideous trash from a screwed up childhood of which she had no memory.

In the bathroom, seeing the remnants of heavy make-up, she knew her other self had been busy in the night. On edge and upset, she scrubbed at her face. Unable to face the day on her own, she called her friend. “Liz, could you come over for a minute?”

“Sure. I’ll be right there.”

“Thanks. I’ll put the pot on.”

Lizzie appeared in a just a few minutes. “What’s wrong, Martha, you look like hell!”

“Feel like it too, Liz.”

“What’s that stuff on your face?”

“Thought I got it off.” She frowned, “I just can’t be alone right now. I think something happened last night, but I don’t know what.”

“Like what, then?” Lizzie asked.

“I woke up this morning with this god-awful, sticky make-up on my face. I took a course in theatrical make-up several months ago. I don’t know why, but look what I’m doing!”

“Just what
are
you doing?”

“That’s the thing, I really don’t know. I’ve seen a psychiatrist because of lost periods of time. I can’t remember events. I buy things, but don’t know when or where.” She pointed. “See that purse? It just appeared one day. I have no idea where I bought it.” Martha flung out her hands in helplessness. “That’s what I mean, Liz. I think I’m losing my mind.”

“So what does your doctor say?”

“He says I’ll be fine when we get it all out in the open.”

“Well, he’s the professional now isn’t he? Let’s get the coffee.” Lizzie laughed. “You worry too much, girl.”

“Now you know why I called you, Liz. What a voice of sanity you are!” Martha got the coffee and they both relaxed. Martha giggled like a school girl, basking in the warmth of her friend’s acceptance. “Think I’m nuts, huh, don’t ya?”

Liz giggled a bit, too, but her eyes were somber. “You’ll be rabidly out of your mind if you don’t pay more attention to this Bob Chance.”

“I’ll get serious if I ever get out from under this evil cloud. I can’t put this on him, even as much as he wants to help.” Martha shrugged. “I must wait until the doctors bring me together with this Serena, who inhabits my body. I don’t know her—but she knows me.” She gasped. “Oh God! Now I’ve said too much!” Her cheeks felt like ice and her palms were sweaty as she searched Lizzie’s face for signs of shock.

“Martha, you astound me! That thing you just said—is this what’s going on with you?” Liz moved closer. “Please I’ll never tell anyone about this. You know I won’t, but it might be good for you to let things out. I can take it. We’ve been friends for a long time.”

“Actually, what I’ve already said is all I really know. I wake up some mornings smelling like booze and cigarettes. The doctors tell me they believe my alter has been a very busy girl. The thing is—at what? She hasn’t told them.”

“Oh wow! This is better than a movie!”

Martha relaxed. “Well, that’s it Liz. You know it all now, or as much as I do. She helped herself to a cookie and urged one on Liz. They spent the rest of the time discussing clothes and men while Martha hid her deep foreboding under a cloak of casual chatter and gossip.

***

Martha kept her afternoon appointment with the psychiatrist. The session left her feeling drained and she’d learned nothing new.
They
had, she could see it on their faces, but they didn’t tell her what they knew and it made her feel increasingly uneasy.

CHAPTER 18

Three weeks later, as the first flush of dawn lightened the sky, Serena waited quietly in the darkened alley behind Denny’s home. She wore thick, figure-disguising garments, heavy men’s boots, a pasted on scraggly beard, a pulled-down, woven cap, and plastic gloves—prepared and ready in case he decided to empty his garbage once again in the early morning air. She’d waited many mornings in this dismal alley to learn Denny’s habits. He’d proven to be a well-scheduled type, a creature of habit like most humans. And today—was garbage day.

Waiting and watching, she struggled to calm herself. If not today, then another day, but she’d rid the world of one more sadistic pedophile. Knowing this one preyed on helpless little girls, her hatred crept close to the danger mark. “Cool it girl, rage won’t help you in this important work.”

In the trees, birds stirred and began their songs. A lizard scurried about leaving faint trails in the sandy soil. But nothing much moved in the slowly lightening alley. “Not even a stray cat out. Nice and quiet. Good for my work—come on out, Denny darlin’. I’m here for you,” she crooned softly under her breath as she hid behind a large dumpster.