The Sound of Broken Ribs(44)
“Harry didn’t say a word when I told Deputy Robert that I had no idea why Wales had gone to see Marchesini. He didn’t question me after the deputy left, either. He just looked at me for a while. Then I saw in his eyes that he’d figured it out. He knew why I hadn’t told the deputy without me having to say a word.”
“You want to find her yourself,” Donald said. It wasn’t a question.
“You don’t know the pain I went through.”
Donald glanced at the pictures of Sunne on the mantle then back to Lei. “No. I don’t. Can’t say that I blame you for thinking about doing something, either.”
“Really?”
“I never stopped thinking about the night she was taken from me.” Donald hadn’t touched his drink yet, but he downed it now, in one long swallow. “I’m better these days, but I’ll never be over it. They raped her and cut her throat. Right in front of me. I know you know. I never told you, but I’m sure you looked into it. We creatives are inquisitive to a fault.”
Lei nodded. She wouldn’t deny the truth. She’d done exactly what he figured she’d done.
“What I wouldn’t give to have five minutes alone with the men who attacked us and murdered her. I would love to dine on their insides while they watched, just to see the horror of watching themselves consumed in their eyes. I’d not do that, actually, but the thought of it brings me great pleasure.”
“Why wouldn’t you do it?”
“Honestly? Because I haven’t the stature or strength it would take to do so. Wrestling a man into submission takes a larger body than I’ve been allowed by the powers that be. And intestines are notoriously hard to bite through. Ask any southerner with a taste for chitterlings.” He smiled but there was no humor in it. “But, given the chance and wherewithal, I would do terrible things to the men who harmed my Sunne. I would do those terrible things without compunction. If I were able, I would rend the flesh from their bones and feed them their own bodies a piece at a time.” His gaze was volcanic. “Moreover, I would not think less of someone who was able to find solace in an act of vengeance, if there is any solace whatsoever to be found in retribution.
“What happened to you is unforgivable, Lei. My heart weeps for the pain you must have suffered and the pain you still soldier through. My heart is heavy even now with what you intend to do. I know you came here for my advice. I can see it in your eyes. I can also see that you expected me to try to talk you out of what you are planning. You will receive no such platitudes from me. Do what you feel shall defeat your demons. I will not judge. The past is the past, but memory, should you ignore it, is a wound that festers.”
Lei nodded and tossed back her drink.
*
Belinda was sitting on the corner of her bed watching Matlock on TV Land when the lock on the door clicked, flashed red to green, and swung inward to reveal a haggard looking Carl. His forehead was dotted with perspiration; his skin resembled a refrigerated candy bar set out in the sun. His pink performance bag was slung over his shoulder. Although he was dressed in a blue chambray button down and jeans one or two sizes too small for his thick thighs, she knew the bag contained dresses and makeup. He threw the duffel onto one of the two full-size mattresses provided by the hotel and headed straight for the bathroom. The shower spritz on a few seconds later. Nights like this, when Carl came in without a word spoken and a hurried desire to be clean, Belinda didn’t have to ask where he’d been or who he’d been doing.
She listened to the soft sounds of the big man crying through the hiss of the falling water.
This too was par for the course.
Belinda hoped he’d gotten enough money so they could enjoy an actual dinner somewhere instead of dollar menu items. Something—anything—to make tonight worth his tears.
Although his shower only lasted fifteen minutes or so, Carl stayed in the bathroom for a total of an hour. Matlock had just begun when he’d arrived, and the credits were rolling when he stepped out. What he’d done in there after showering, Belinda didn’t have a clue, nor was she going to ask. That was Carl’s business and his alone.
“Wanna go out?” he asked with a smile that looked horribly forced. His eyes were still red from his crying jag.
“Sure. Where?”
“Miguel’s on the Border?”
“The border’s four hours away.”
“It’s not on the border. That’s just the name. Don’t ask me why.”
“Mexican food?”
“Yep.”
“You up for a good crop dusting tonight?”
Carl laughed. “Girl, you won’t be the only one with bubble guts.” Being away from his small hometown had brought the queen in him even closer to the surface, changing the quiet giant’s inner candle from flickering wick to bright flame. “Besides, I’ve had so much of it pushed in, I could use a good pipe cleaning.”
Belinda grimaced. “Ew.”
“Sorry. Anyway, I got enough for the next two month’s rent and some groceries, as well as enough cash for us to have a few drinks at dinner tonight.”
“Jesus. Do I want to know?”
“No. Suffice to say, groups pay much more than singles.” There was that smile again—the one that never quite reached the eyes. “I figure you can save up your money from the grocery store for a while. Get us back on track and off this paycheck-to-paycheck nonsense.”