I let my mouth drop open.
“What do you know,” I murmured. As I’d already said, once Mary made her mind up about something, that was it. As crazy as it was, I had no choice but to go along with her. It’s funny, though. This probably would be the kind of stunt Bry would pull if given the opportunity. Quietly, I swore to myself I’d keep my promise about his neck, first chance I got.
“So he was just lying to me,” I said, as if I was in a daze.
“Yes!” Mary practically shouted at me, her eyes shining like diamonds. “He’s sick. He probably figured he’d get me alone, and that I’d have confused feelings about him, and he’d be able to take advantage-”
Anger flashed through her, choking her words. Since there was nothing else for me to do but agree with her, that’s what I did. “That’d be a hell of a thing to do,” I said, nodding. “But it would explain things.”
“Don’t you see what it means?” she asked. “The only reason you were sure that woman was my mother was because of what he’d told you. But if he was lying, then you still haven’t found her. She might still be alive.”
I could’ve kicked myself for not giving her a better story. “Yeah,” I nodded. “It’s possible. He might have been telling the truth, though.”
“No, my real mother’s alive. I can feel it. Trust me, Johnny.”
Well, what could I say? I told her I trusted her. “Mary,” I asked, “have you thought about filing attempted rape charges against him?”
“I thought about it, but I’m not going to.”
I shook my head. “Maybe you should. I can take you down to the police station.”
“No!” she insisted. “I just want to forget about him. Besides, I don’t want my parents finding out about it.”
Of course I didn’t want her filing charges, either-I couldn’t afford to let her-but I needed to know what she was planning.
“Yeah, well, if that’s the way you feel. Probably best just to forget about it,” I agreed. “So you haven’t told your parents about this?”
“No, I’ve already hurt them enough with this.”
“Did you tell anyone else about Jerry Bry?” I asked.
“No.” She gave me an odd look, like the other time in my office. “Why?”
It was a damn good question, one which I didn’t want to admit the answer to. “I feel a little ashamed about making such a dumb-assed mistake. I’m awful sorry about it.”
“I guess it’s understandable.” She lowered her eyes, hesitating. “Johnny, I think I should find another detective.”
The waitress came back with my coffee and kind of dumped it down with disgust. I took a sip, burning my mouth. “I sure wish you wouldn’t do that,” I said, trying my damndest to keep from smashing the coffee cup against the wall.
“It’s best that I do. We haven’t had much luck together.”
“I’d feel lousy about it,” I said. “I’d hate to think I let you down.”
She gave me a sad smile. “Don’t. I know you’ve done everything you could.”
“Mary,” I said, “I’ll work on it for free. If I don’t find your birth parents for you in two weeks I’ll give you back everything you’ve already paid me. Then you can hire yourself another detective if you need to.”
“I don’t know.” Doubt creased her brow, making her at that instant more beautiful than ever. I wanted to reach over and kiss her, but I didn’t think she’d understand the reason for it.
“It will all be over in two weeks. I promise.”
“I think it would be better if-” Indecision slowed her. Almost involuntarily, she nodded. “Okay.”
It was said so softly I almost didn’t hear it. She tried working a weak smile onto her face, but it just wouldn’t stick. “Johnny,” she said, “I’m sorry if I-”
I held up my hand to stop her. “You’ve got every right to be angry with me. There’s just no excuse for the mistake I made. But, darling, I promise it won’t happen again.”
The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. “I believe you.” She fumbled a little with her pocketbook. “I’ve got to go to class. I’m late as it is.”
Keeping her eyes glued to the ground, she headed towards the door. When she got there, she glanced over at me. For a second I thought she was going to say something, and I think she did too, but she left without saying a word.
At first I couldn’t think of anything, and then all of a sudden I started daydreaming about fishing. It’s funny. Fishing is something I’ve never done but always wanted to. I wondered how it would feel to do nothing more than float on a crystal clear lake, the only struggle being the one with your fishing pole. No worries trying to pull your nerves apart. I wondered if the last was possible.
Even though I tried to keep my thoughts on fishing, they drifted back to my childhood. To my momma, and poppa. And then to people I met later in my life. Walt Murphy. Rose.
The waitress planted herself in front of me, hands on hips, and snarled, “Hey, look. You bought some coffee, not the table. You gonna stay here all day?”
I looked up at her. I tried to smile, I really did, but the way she jumped back, I doubt if it came out that way. She mumbled something, but her words died before they got to me. She looked as if she’d fall over if I so much as snapped my fingers. For the hell of it I snapped them, but all she did was stumble as she walked away.
It didn’t look as if I had any choice but to talk with Rose, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. Last time I met with her she promised to give me a shotgun enema if she ever saw me again. Maybe those weren’t her exact words, but that was the gist of it.
And I had no reason to doubt she meant it.
Chapter 17
I took the first plane I could to Oklahoma City. It was almost twenty years since I’d last talked with Rose, and I tried to play that occasion back in my mind.
It all seemed pretty distant at first, but slowly I began to remember how it was that time when Rose came to see me. It was about a month after her husband died. I had tried explaining how things stood but she wouldn’t listen.
“Rosie, you know we can’t keep seeing each other. Don’t you think it would look damn funny after what happened? How long do you think it would take them to put a rope around my neck?”
“Why can’t we just pack up and leave Denver? We can start over someplace else, Johnny, someplace no one knows us. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
I had tried telling her over the phone how things had changed. I had talked myself blue in the face telling her what the situation was. She should have been able to see how it had to be. She should have thanked her maker I didn’t crack her thick skull open that day. How difficult was it to understand? The press had eaten up the whole crazy business and I was a hero, and people want to hire heroes.
I had shown Rose the offers I had gotten, a stack thick enough to choke a bull. If you’d taken all my offers from the previous year it wouldn’t have been enough to paper a birdcage. It was just plain selfish of her to think I would give up what the good Lord had just delivered to me. And for what, to start over again as a nickel and dime dick so I could get my brains beaten out every day? Now that I was finally rolling sevens she wanted me to crap out. Hell, if the woman really loved me she’d have understood and wanted to give me that chance. But I guess it was just a lot of steam.
I tried explaining it to her backwards and sideways and upside down. And a hell of a lot of good it did me. After a while she stopped her complaining and got quiet. Then she got mean.
“Why did you have to say I was cheating on him? Everywhere I go people whisper things. I’ve started getting obscene phone calls.”
