The Vigilante (26 page)

“You won’t need to, Bob. He’s suffering now, maybe that’s part of God’s way. I don’t know. But there’s more to tell you, and it’s not good. It’s not even legal, but the way things are between us, I must tell you. But I wished to God I never had to. I don’t want to speak of those terrible things.”

“What is it, girl? You’ve done something as Serena?”

“’
Fraid so. It began after the terrible rape and sodomy of little Will. Because that man got off on a silly technicality, Serena re-appeared after all these years due to my frustration at the injustice to our child. I didn’t know it of course, but from then on, weird things began happening.” Martha looked in his eyes, searching for signs of disgust or shock.

Seeing none, she continued. “I had memory lapses, found things I couldn’t remember buying. I’d wake up some mornings smelling of smoke. I found horrid, slutty boots in my closet. All these things had me so worried that I sought medical attention.

“Unbeknownst to me, Serena stalked Callahan until she caught him that morning on the jogging track. You know the rest of that story.”

“Oh my God, Martha!” The look of shock over Bob’s ashen features filled her with dread. Her chance for happiness with him was slipping rapidly from her grasp. She saw it on his face. “I find it impossible to believe you could have done that, Martha—or are you even Martha?”

“A good part of me is. There’s more to the story. There’s Denny Garver, too.” She squared her shoulders. “That’s about it. Oh yes, and I went to
The
Paradisio
several times. What a dive that is!” Martha was certain she sounded like Serena when she said that. She almost laughed at her own distress as she sat there losing the best man she’d ever met, and that included Chet.

His stunned silence spoke volumes and her heart sank into the blackest of depths, as she helplessly faced his shock and disgust at what she’d done. Facing the loss of Bob’s solid support from now on, she muttered, “Well, it seems my nasty little chickens have just come home to roost, haven’t they?”

She got up to leave. “Take me back to my car, would you, please?” she asked, nearly begging. She wanted away from his stony silence. She wanted to die.

He sat in a state of shock, disbelief in his eyes, but conviction was there, too. “I have to think about this. I have to think it through. I hardly know what to say. I know about these things, but I’ve never seen dissociative disorder or knew anyone who had it. My God, you’ve committed
crimes
, Martha.” He shook his head. “And now you believe the police are after you? Could they possibly implicate you?”

“I’m sure they suspect me. I don’t know what they know, but they see me as a person of interest, I know that much.” She gave thought to several things in the recent past. “Do you remember when I came to work with those purple spots on my arms?” She looked at him intently, no longer seeing in him a man who loved her but, hopefully, still a friend. “My father used that solution, Gentian Violet, on our young bull calves, male pigs, and lambs, when he docked them. I suppose that’s where I got the idea to use it on those men. I guess I didn’t want to infect them. Now it comes back to incriminate me.”

Jake had seen them, too.
Wouldn’t he be blabbing that to the police
?
He loves to impart information to expand his sense of self importance. Was that
why Jarvis was there at the hospital, this evening
?
Martha stayed lost in her thoughts until Bob spoke.

“What will you do, now?” he asked. His eyes no longer held the gentleness and comforting look she loved so much. The warmth once found there had turned cold as an ice floe, the frost in his eyes invading her heart.

“I don’t know. I want to run away maybe, but I can’t really regret what I did, when I think of it. Those men have doubtless ruined more lives than the two children we know of. They never stop, Bob. As Martha, I might think of doing something like that, but I would never do it. Alters usually have no conscious thoughts about the laws of the land. That’s what I’ve read, and I believe it’s true.”

Bob sighed. “What a dilemma. You know I’ll never divulge what you’ve told me, Martha.”

She believed him. Even if she found no warmth or caring in his eyes, there was still sincerity.

“Take me to my car, please, Bob. I just want to go home now. I’m so tired I want to sleep for a week. I’m glad I’ve told you everything and, for whatever it’s worth to you, I’ve loved our time together. I can’t blame you for any adverse feelings you have toward me. How could I?” She couldn’t stop the tears from forming. “I’ll always appreciate your kindness. You’ve saved my life several times over.” Barely able to speak, she turned away from him and headed toward the door. “Thank you.”

He helped her into his truck. Even the touch of his hand no longer felt warm. Seemingly lost in thought, he said nothing as they drove through the streets. Martha sat beside him, alone and numb with the new things she’d learned tonight, plus knowing she’d lost the love of a good man, a wonderful, caring man. Unable to feel anything at the moment, she sat beside his big warm body and forced all thought from her mind.

CHAPTER 27

“I’ll be calling you, Martha,” Bob told her as he helped her down from the height of his big truck. She bumped against him. But his touch wasn’t the same now and never would be again.

His voice had sounded deep and sincere but she couldn’t place hope in that, anymore. “Yes, but I won’t be holding my breath until you do.” She couldn’t keep the painful sarcasm from her voice.

Her heart pained her to the point she feared it might tear and break apart within her chest as she left him without further comment. She heard only a soft mumbled goodbye from Bob, but no lingering kiss or words of solace. Her mind in a sick turmoil, she noticed little of the sights on the streets. But driving home, she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of an old maroon vehicle keeping a steady, but discreet distance, behind her.

When she got home, she undressed and sought her bed. “Serena, or whoever you are, no tricks tonight. I’ve had enough for this day, and enough of you, too!” Amidst her despair, Martha felt incredibly angry. She punched her pillow in helpless frustration and collapsed in tears. “What am I to do? Just sit here like a fool and accept this kind of treatment from someone I thought loved me? He can go to hell in a damned hand basket for all I care.”

***

“Well, how’d it go at the hospital, last night?” Ryan asked Jarvis.

“Martha Lavery was there, but nothing out of the ordinary. The aide, Jake Collins did a lot of talking, but he talked all around anything I could use. She saw me, and I got the feeling she knew I was watching her.”

He chuckled softly. “She avoided any contact with me. I hope she thought I was there to visit Jake.” He laid his report on the desk. “She hasn’t a very high opinion of any of us and I can’t blame her. Funny thing, though, she looked damned pale near the last of the shift, in fact, she looked haunted or something. She left with a big, older guy, a male nurse named Bob Chance. The tail said she went with him to his house and then after a couple of hours, he drove her back to her own car, and she went on home. Maybe there’s trouble in paradise. I couldn’t tell. That’s it as far as last night goes.”

“Not much there. Looked pale, you say? Concerning what?” Ryan wondered aloud. “See anything to cause that?”

“No, not really—say, you hungry? I haven’t had breakfast yet. How about you?” Art was always ready to fill his generous gut.

“Oh hell, let’s get a bite. This case is driving me loco. If she’s guilty, she’s a damned heroine anyway. She sure as hell is to me.” Ryan laughed. “Maybe she’ll start a trend.”

***

Jake had the night off and decided to check out
The
Paradisio
again. “Maybe that hot older chick will show up. Sure added a nice flip to that last visit I made. Wonder if Imperato has gotten hold of her yet? Wouldn’t want to be in her shoes when he does.” He checked his look in the mirror and laughed. “Don’t pay to look too hot in that place, never know who might take an interest!”

Arriving late, Jake sidled up to the bar where his friend Joey sat alone, head drooping low, nearly in his beer. “Hey, Joey, how they hangin’? Any action tonight?”

“Naw, too late for any action now, unless that guy, Callahan comes in. You remember the one I mean. He does some nights, but his friend, Denny’s in the slammer now. You know, he’s the
last
one that got cut. Hear the police got him dead to rights for molesting that little girl—DNA, the whole shootin’ match.”

Jake straightened up. “Cops finally got one, handed to ’em on a silver platter, you might say.” He lowered his voice. “See anything of that big guy that got the knee in here the other night?”

“I’ve been wondering about that. Hate to be that poor woman when he nabs her. They say he’s a bad hombre, and what she did to him, set him off big time. He left here lookin’ about to erupt or somethin’. If he comes in, I plan to sip my beer and keep my head down.”

Jake grinned in anticipation. “Wouldn’t that be a sight? She just might get him again. That dame looked pretty damned tough herself.”

A bit later, Fred Callahan came sideling in, alone, long-faced, and appearing at loose ends. Head drooping, he kept himself aloof and said little. He endured a few cutting barbs of other patrons in silence. There were those who had no sympathy for his devastated condition. But for the most part, even that much attention went missing. He stayed a short while then faded away.

Joey shook his head. “Damn, I almost feel sorry for that Fred. I said
almost
, when I remember his idea of a fun night out. Little boys—sick son of a bitch!”

Jake nodded his agreement with Joey’s assessment. “Got what he deserved, I say.” He wondered if Joey’d heard anything new. “Any news on that vigilante?”

“Seems to have gone underground or maybe he’s waiting for the next predator to raise his filthy head. Lots of people want to thank that guy, so I’ve heard. Regular hero around here, he is,” Joey replied, sipping deeply on his dark, amber draft. “Hey, barkeep, how’s about another, here?” He held out his empty glass to the leather-and-chain garbed barkeep.

No one appeared to miss Fred after he’d gone. The music pounded on and on, the drinks flowed, and the low murmur of conversation hung constantly in the smoke-filled atmosphere.

“Whoa-a-a, here comes Mr. Big. I’ll bet he’s still looking for that fool woman. Sure as hell he is!” Jake kept his voice low. His heart rate had increased considerably with this added excitement. “Look at ‘im, looking around. She ain’t here mister, hasn’t been back since she fixed your wagon,” he murmured then snickered very softly, while looking down into his beer.

After an hour of no action, Charles Imperato left. His face bore the same wild, dark and stormy, hostile glare. Jake shuddered inside. The man held a mighty rage in check as he hunted for the flashy female who dared to ram him in the crotch with her neatly leather-clad knee.

“Whew! I wouldn’t be a stand-in for that lady for all the money on Wall Street!” Jake declared. “She won’t live another day if he finds her. Wonder if she even knows who she slammed in the gonads that night.” He blew out his breath, realizing he’d been holding it. “I wonder who in the hell she is? Looked damned familiar to me, I’ve seen her somewhere but I can’t place her.”

The excitement over, Jake took his leave, deep in thought. He’d seen that over-dressed chick with the high topped leather boots before, but where?

***

Martha awakened. She’d slept fitfully and felt like the cold ashes in her fireplace this morning. She needed the solace of a friend and grabbed her cell. “Hi Lizzie, if you’re not busy, why not come over for breakfast?”

“Sure. Why not? I’d like that.”

“Oh, good, see ya in a few.” Martha hung up and ducked into the shower. The hot water cascading over her body brought her back to some semblance of life. Toweling off, she dressed quickly in jeans, a bright blue sweatshirt, and managed a bit of make up before the doorbell rang.

“Hi Lizzie, I needed to see you.” Martha nearly pulled her in off the front porch. “Come on in here.”

“I knew by your tone that something was up. So spill, lady, you’ve got something biting you in the ass this morning. Things coming unglued are they?”

Lizzie stood ready to help if there was any way she could. Trouble excited her, and a few enticing details from Martha’s mad life made her dull, high-society world go round.

“I have so much to tell you, I don’t know where to start. Everything isn’t coming unglued—it’s already unglued. I don’t want to dump all these terrible things on my daughter, so how about you? Strong enough this morning?”

“You bet I am.” Lizzie’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Go make some strong coffee and let’s get this business out on the table.” The eagerness in her voice reminded Martha that Lizzie was no turncoat coward. But could she handle the truth about what she’d done as Serena?
I’m about to find
that one out.
I’m not sure I could stand to lose this friend, too.

“Okay, you gave me the go ahead, so here goes, Liz. It’s not a pretty story I have to tell.” Martha set the coffee on to perk, and got out some biscotti’s. Her stomach felt like a fire had been set in it, but she paid it no mind.

Ulcers be damned,
she thought as she sat across from her friend and began. “I’ve had a big break through and I am beginning to merge with my alternate personality now. I know almost everything, but it sickens me to tell it, and I fear it will sicken you, too.” She hesitated. “Lizzie, I’ve told you I had to see a psychiatrist. I have been for some time now. Remember what I said about something that happened in my childhood, causing problems for me now? Well, it seems something so severe happened to me during my first grade year that my mind created an alter personality, one that could withstand the horrible things that were happening.”