“Unfortunately, I’m having kind of an uninspired day. You ever experience those?”
“It’s been known to happen. When it does, I find by far the best thing is to curl up on the floor and cry.”
“Thanks,” Cardinal said, stepping out into the cold. “I’ll have to try that.”
18
Sam had no doubt Randall would be missing her by now. Two people could not touch the way they had, love the way they had, know such passion, feel such joy, and simply abandon it as if it had never happened. Okay, maybe she was addicted to those orgasms he seemed to engineer so effortlessly, but it wasn’t just sex. It was his eyes, the way he seemed to liquefy at the sight of her tawny skin, the way just seeing her seemed to take him over some threshold. No one could be that loony about just sex. He had to be missing her.
But there were lots of good reasons for him not to call. Which was why Sam was shivering in a phone booth across the street from Carnwright Real Estate, actually quaking with cold. Even with its fleecy hood, her denim coat was no match for the cold winds that blew uptown off the lake, and she couldn’t ask her mother to fix the bloodied parka.
Sam had bailed out of drawing class early to get here before five. Now it was a quarter after and it was dark and the cars were crawling up Algonquin with their headlights on and no doubt their heaters going full blast while she stood huddled in a phone booth waiting for the love of her life to appear. At least the phone booth cut the wind a little.
An old guy in a long grey coat came out and got into a flashy car parked in the small lot beside the house. Mr. Carnwright maybe? A few minutes later a woman in a black down coat that made her look like a carbonized waffle emerged, cellphone pressed to one ear. Phyllis. Randall had mentioned Phyllis a couple of times, not exactly in what you’d call positive terms.
The windows of the real estate office went dark and the porch light went on and Randall came out at last. He turned around to check that the door was locked. The traffic was moving again, and Sam had to dodge through it, causing people to honk.
She caught up to him in the parking lot.
“Sam.” He looked over her shoulder and around the lot. “Jesus Christ, Sam.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I had to. I miss you.”
“Jesus Christ.” Randall pointed his key at the car and the locks chirped open. “Get in before anyone sees you.”
Sam got in and he hit the ignition. “Heat, heat,” she said. “I’m freezing. God, I’m so happy to see you.”
She touched his arm and he shook his head. “Not good, Sam.”
“Come on-just a few minutes? I have to be at work soon. Maybe we could just drive around?”
“Uh-huh. Someone sees us and I explain it how?”
“You were showing me a house. Come on, show me a house. I’ll tell people I just won the lottery and I’m buying it for my mother. No, I’ll tell them I sold Loreena Moon for a million bucks. Take me anywhere. I just want to be with you.”
Randall waited for a gap in the traffic and pulled out onto Algonquin. He took the first right onto a quieter street. A darker street. After two blocks he pulled over in front of a building that at one time had been a bakery. Shuttered now. Weeds in the parking lot and graffiti all over the brick.
“You told the police about me, didn’t you.”
“No! I didn’t say a word, I swear.”
“They know about me, Sam. How could they know about me if you didn’t tell them?”
“They’re police. They’re not retarded-they find stuff out. I love you, Randall-why would I do anything to hurt you?”
He looked her up and down the way you might look at a defective purchase. “Maybe to stir things up with Laura. She leaves me, and then you have me all to yourself.”
“I do want you all to myself.” Sam placed a hand on the sleeve of his coat. She traced a pattern in the fabric with her index finger. “But only if you want me.”
“So why did you go to the police, Sam?”
“I didn’t. I called them.”
“I knew it. I fucking knew it.” Randall pounded the steering wheel.
“It was totally anonymous. I called at night, from a pay phone-I’ve never been in so many pay phones in my life-and I left a message on someone’s voice mail. A woman detective. I didn’t say anything about you. I just said I was in the house-actually, I said I was there to rob the place.”
“Not smart, Sam.”
“Well, how else am I going to explain what I’m doing there? I told them I heard the guy’s voice and he wasn’t Russian like the victims. They need to know or they’ll be looking in the wrong places. They have to catch him-he has my cellphone, Randall. Somebody’s been calling our house.”
“From your cell?”
“The number was blocked. But I pick up, or my mom picks up, and there’s someone there-you can tell there’s someone there-but he doesn’t say anything. He’s going to figure out where I live, Randall. He probably already knows.”
“If it wasn’t from your cell, I don’t see any reason to worry. It could be anyone. It could be a malfunction on the line, for all you know.”
“It’s him. The police have to catch him.”
“Well, this is great great, Sam. All you’ve succeeded in doing is putting them on to me. Laura is running for office. They haven’t made the announcement yet, but she’s going to be a candidate for MP. If this gets out, all that’ll be over.”
“If what gets out? That you visited a house you’re trying to sell?”
Randall grabbed her shoulder and shook her. “On the same day as a double fucking murder, Sam. With a hot little chick from the Indian reserve? How do you think that’ll play in a political campaign? How do you think that’ll play with my pillar-of-the-community father-in-law? Don’t you ever think of anyone other than yourself? Jesus Christ, Sam. How selfish can you be?”
He let go and Sam rubbed her shoulder. It was the first time Randall had ever touched her with anything other than affection.
“I thought you loved me,” he said. He was staring out the windshield at the snow that was beginning to sift down through the street light. “I really thought you did. But frankly, now I have to wonder.”
“I do, Randall. I do love you. You really don’t believe me?”
He gave a snort. “You’ve got some way of showing it.”
“Do you really hate it that I’m First Nations? I’m just asking-I won’t be mad, if it’s true. I just-does it bug you that much?”
“Oh, Sam…” He turned to her again, his expression softer. He took her hand and rubbed the woollen mitten with his thumb. “I actually love that about you. It makes you interesting-exotic, kind of. Sexy. Unfortunately, a lot of other people don’t think that way. They just think-well, you know how they think. And that makes me very sad.”
Sam buried her face in his shoulder. “Let’s go to a house. You must have another empty house somewhere. Please. I want you so bad.”
“I told Laura I was on my way home.”
“So you’ll be late. And I’ll be late for work.”
“Sam, we can’t do this anymore.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Sam, we can’t.”
“Ever?”
“Not until this is over, that’s for sure. I’m not going to ruin Laura’s career. I may not be the world’s best husband, but I’m not going to do that to her.”
