The Lake

His lips curved. His eyes glittered, black, sloelike.

Leigh got it, all right. No problem. The truth came at her thick and fast. She raised her head. Saw the smear of sweat gathering on Mace’s upper lip.

“He’s getting off on this,” she told herself. “He’s enjoying every minute of it.”

She knew it now. Jess was Mace.

Charlie’s brother. Deana’s uncle.

Oh my God, I don’t believe this. Please let it be some terrible mistake…

She thought about the insanity in the Payne family. Edith Payne, screaming at her, eyes dark and wild. Seems like Charlie’s pa was mad, too. Liquored up, and on another planet. A killer. Of a tiny baby. A baby hacked in such a horrible way. And Mace. Hard. Cruel. Raging when she’d uncovered him last night. Seen his black body hair.

Must’ve bleached the hair on his head to appear blond to the outside world. Trying to hide, eradicate, all trace of the familial black growth.

And Deana.

Oh my God, my darling daughter. Her thick black hair. The body hair she was always complaining about. From her father’s side. From the Payne side.

She pictured Deana, her own dark-haired daughter—the vision merging with Edith Payne’s Tania. But, she told herself gratefully, Deana had no manic streaks, no strange ways; nothing to say she’d inherited the “bad” Payne blood.

Thank God, Deana had West genes, too.

I was a bit of a rebel though, she reminded herself, recalling the hippie days, the demos, her anti-everything buttons pinned all over her clothes… A teenage rebel she’d definitely been.

But Deana hadn’t caused her that much trouble. Had she?

“Coffee. Black. And plenty of it!” Mattie brought in three steaming mugs on a tray.

“Gee, thanks, Mats.” Mace grinned. “Just what we need. A shot of good ol’ caffeine to get us all spiced up and rarin’ to go. What say you, Leigh darlin’?”

“Coffee. Sure,” Leigh said uncertainly. What a nightmare. Looks like he’s not going to let us go. So how do we get out of here in one piece…?

“Y’always did make great coffee,” Mace went on. “Am I right, Mattie?”

“Okay, Mace. Quit the bullshit. Whatever it is you and Leigh have got going here, I’m outta this place. You comin’, Leigh?”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Mattie. You an’ Leigh ain’t goin’ anywhere.” Mace reached behind. Fingering his holster.

“Mace. You’re making one big mistake.”

“Come now, Mattie. You know better than to go against ol’ Mace. You know who’s boss around here.”

“Quit playin’ around, Mace, I put one call through and the cops’ll be buzzin’ around here like flies, an’ you know it.”

“Think so, Mats?”

“Know so, Mace. Just stay cool and let us pass.”

“You were breakin’ and enterin’, Mattie. And you, Leigh. Wouldn’t have thought it of you. So ladylike an’ all.”

“Mattie. Meet Mace, Deana’s uncle. Surprised, huh?” Leigh gave a mirthless laugh. She was playing for time. Trying to catch him off guard. What then? She’d no idea.

Go with the flow. Take our chances, I guess…

“Thought there was something more to our friend than he made out,” Mattie put in, looking at Leigh. She turned to Mace. “Let us pass, Mace. You want to continue your illustrious career at the department? Let us by and we won’t say a word.”

“Mmmm. Not bad, Mattie. Not bad at all. Taught you well, didn’t I? Tricky situation, and you turn the tables with a slick remark. Won’t work this time, Mattie baby. You’re talking to the master. I got me two perps here. On a breakin’-and-enterin’ charge. I got me a result.”

Leigh’s mind worked overtime. She was sure Mace planned to finish what Charlie Senior had been unable to do.

She remembered Mace’s theory about Nelson. “He might come back. Finish where he left off,” he’d said.

Charlie Payne Sr. didn’t get to kill his black-haired baby girl. So now Mace wants to do it for him. No Tania around? So what about Deana, Charlie’s black-haired daughter?

Oh my God. Deana.

I gotta get on home. Protect her. Send her away. Like Ma Payne sent Tania away.

Well, not quite the same.

Talk to Mace, she decided. Persuade him to let us go. But don’t let him know I’m onto his little game.

She turned to Mattie.

“Mattie, why don’t you clear away the coffee things? Mace and I need to talk.”

A brief glance at Leigh and Mattie took the hint.

Right. I go out into the kitchen. Deposit the mugs. Leigh keeps Mace talking. His back’s turned to the door and I come out, guns blazing…

“Well, now, Leigh. Thought we’d finished talking for good last night. Nothing much left to say.” He tilted his head, watching her, his eyes half closed, skimming her body, undressing her as she stood before him. Like he’d done so many times before. How she’d enjoyed him doing that.

She blushed slightly, annoyed with herself for the predictable reaction. “Mace,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry for the way I behaved last night…” She took a step forward. Playing for time. Looking guileless, innocent.

She smiled at him. That special, intimate smile she often gave him.

Except it wasn’t working today.

He was tense, alert. Listening. But not to Leigh.

He whirled around. Grabbed Mattie’s hand, the one holding the gun. He twisted it up. The gun pointed skyward.

“Yo! Gotcha, Mattie baby. Can’t cheat ol’ Mace. Should know that by now!”

“Oh no?” Mattie’s left leg shot out in a karate kick to the groin. He dropped her arm, danced back, and came up with a sideways chop to her neck. Mattie gasped, whirled away, but dropped her gun. Leigh sprang forward, snatched it up, and jabbed it against Mace’s head.

Mattie dove into her back pocket, opened a pair of cuffs, and snapped them around his wrists. Grabbing the gun from Leigh, she swiped the handle end across Mace’s head.

A short “Uhhhh” burst from his lips as he folded to the floor. He collapsed in a heap.

Mattie grabbed Leigh’s arm and they both made for the door. They heard Mace groan, turned, and saw him shake his head. They didn’t wait; they bolted, disappeared down the hallway, and raced out into the street.

Driving back to Del Mar, Mattie said, “So what is it with you and Mace? Care to tell me?”

Leigh hesitated, then said, “It’s a long story, Mattie.”

God, my life’s one procession of “long stories.”

She took a deep breath. “Here goes. When I was eighteen, I went to visit an aunt and uncle in Milwaukee. Out in Lake Country…” She told her tale, briefly and to the point, ending with Charlie’s death and how she’d found herself pregnant.

There was a long silence.

Then:

“Wow,” Mattie said with a low whistle. “That’s one helluva story…” She paused. “So now Mace has this thing about dark-haired girls…”

Looking at each other, the same thought occurred to them both.

“But all the time,” Mattie went on, “Mace is really searching for Tania. Meanwhile, he can’t find her, so any dark-haired girl will do.”