Sunset Beach(96)

“How else would I know to show up to this dump on a Thursday night? He sent me.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said. “Why would he do something like that?”

“Because you and Brice are through, Donna. The two of you had some laughs, but that’s all it was. He’s not leaving his wife for you. And he’s not giving up his job and his future to run away with you.”

Colleen walked over to the desk on the opposite side of the room and picked up the phone. “We’ll see about that.”

“What? You’re gonna call the house again and hang up when his wife answers? Put the phone down, Donna.”

Zee’s tone was calm. “Like I said, you’ve got what you need. A new set of ID papers. You can go anyplace you want, be Donna Woods. But you’re done threatening Brice Campbell. And you’re done driving past his house and harassing his wife.”

“I never…”

“Shut up,” Zee said. “You’re done. End of story.”

He took a stick of gum and popped it in his mouth, dropping the foil wrapper to the floor.

“And what if that’s not what I want?”

“Tough shit. Do you want your husband to find out about your Thursday night action at the Dreamland motel? The same joint where you were screwing his brains out last December? Because I can make that happen. And then what, after he finds out you’ve been screwing around on him?”

“Allen would kill me,” Colleen said, lifting her chin defiantly. “Brice knows that. He wouldn’t let you…”

“That’s why I’m here tonight,” Zee said. “Looks to me like you’ve got two choices. Stay here, let that asshole keep beating on you until he kills or cripples you, or leave. Hit the road and don’t come back. Which is it?”

Colleen stared blankly down at the driver’s license. “This doesn’t seem real,” she said, in a very small voice. “I know we talked about it, my just walking away. But I’d be leaving everything behind. My job, my friends, my family…”

“Your homicidal husband,” Zee added. “Spare me the pity party, okay? You chose the guy. How long were you together before he started hitting you?”

Her hair fell across her face. “He twisted my wrist so hard I got a spiral fraction. The third night of our honeymoon.”

“And you stayed,” Zee said. “So now, what’s your plan?”

Colleen sank down onto the edge of the bed. She closed her eyes as she reviewed the loose plan that had begun forming in her brain.

“Allen and his dad go fishing in the Keys every year. They leave next Thursday afternoon. If I time it right, I can go to work, pick up my last paycheck, get the money out of our savings account and leave that day, after work.”

“Leave, how?”

“Just … drive away.”

“No good,” Zee said. “As soon as he gets back and finds you gone he’ll call the cops and report you missing. They’ll put out an APB. It won’t be hard to spot that flashy orange car of yours.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Hop a dog,” Zee replied. “Go Greyhound and leave the driving to us.”

Her upper lip curled in distaste. “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious,” Zee said. “Leave the car at work or someplace like that. Then you buy a bus ticket with cash. Get where you’re going and then get yourself a new car and a new life. But a quiet one, you know? Change your hair color. Tone down the way you dress.”

Colleen got a faraway look in her eye. “Atlanta. That’s what I’m thinking. One of my FSU sorority sisters is from there, and it’s a great place. There’s always something going on there. Not like this place. God’s waiting room. I’ll have to figure out a new kind of job, but that’s cool. I’m sick and tired of scraping crap off people’s teeth anyway.”

“Good for you.” Zee stood up. “Sounds like you’ve got yourself a plan, so I’m gonna shove off.”

He glanced meaningfully back at the bed. “Unless you wanna…”

“Dream on,” Colleen snapped. “And you can tell Brice Campbell for me that I hope he rots in hell. He could have at least had the decency to show up here tonight in person.”

Zee stood very close to her. So close she could smell the cinnamon gum he was chewing.

“Decency? You’ve been shacking up with a married man at a fleabag hot sheet motel for months. I don’t think you get to decide what’s decent or not. Donna.”

She slapped him as hard as she could across the face. He was so startled, he just stood there, stunned, as she swept from the room. Moments later, he heard the screech of tires on the wet pavement, and the Camaro’s headlights flashed past the flimsy sheer curtains.

He lit another cigarette. “Bye, Donna,” he said.





45


Drue almost felt guilty, sneaking in to her cube two hours late after her Friday morning meeting with Vera Rennick. Almost. For once, she thought, Wendy would be none the wiser. But when she turned on her computer she saw a lengthy email from her stepmother, outlining everything she expected Drue to accomplish that day. She would have to skip lunch to catch up.