Dagger Key and Other Stories

“I spoke to management,” she said. “They’re not going to kick us out, but you’re banned from the pool area.”

“Damn!” said Pellerin. “And here I was dying for a swim.”

Jocundra started to speak, likely to reprimand him, but thought better of it. An edgy quiet closed in around us.

“You know they got a couple of live gators in that pond in the courtyard? That’s why there’s a fence around it.” Pellerin shook his head in mock amazement. “They don’t never show themselves. Can’t say as I blame them.”

Another stretch of quiet.

“I’m going over to Ruddle’s house later to see what I can see,” I said. “It’s right on the water. That might be good for us. It’s a potential avenue of escape if things go south.”

There would probably have been another interval of silence, if not for Tammy who, wearing a towel turbaned around her hair and nothing else, entered the room, said, “Oops!”, and tippy-toed to the bed, slipping in under the covers next to Thomasina. She sat up, shook out her hair, and said to me, “Is this your friend? She’s so pretty!”

“Hey, babe!” Pellerin said. “I thought you went home.”

“I was making myself sweet for you,” said Tammy in a little-girl voice.

“I’ll be in my room,” said Jocundra.

“Why you acting this way?” Pellerin caught her wrist. “Like you been wronged or something. If anyone’s been wronged, it’s me. Sit down and be polite. There’s no reason we can’t act like friends.”

Tammy, baffled, gestured at me and said to Pellerin, “I thought she was his friend.”

Jocundra twisted free and walked out. I caught up to her in the living room. “Hey, slow down,” I said, blocking the door to the suite.

She folded her arms and lowered her head, shielding her eyes with one hand, as if close to tears. “Let me by!”

“All right.” I moved aside, inviting her to leave. “You’re not helping him by behaving like this. You’re not helping me, you’re not helping yourself. But go ahead. Take a break. I’ll handle things. Just try and pull yourself together by Saturday night.”

She stood a moment, then walked over to a sofa, stood another moment and sat down.

“Why’re you getting so bent out of shape?” I dropped into a chair. “I thought you didn’t have a strong connection with this guy.”

“I don’t!”

“Then why…”

“Because I couldn’t make a connection with him. It’s my fault he’s alone.”

“He’s not exactly alone,” I reminded her.

“You know it’s not the same. He needs someone with him who understands what he’s going through.”

With two people breathing in it, the room seemed almost airless, like a room in a Motel 6 with bolted-shut plastic windows. I thought about yanking back the drapes and opening the glass door onto the balcony, but I couldn’t muster the energy.

“He’s not exercising,” Jocundra said. “He’s not taking his meds.”

“Maybe you should have slept with him.”

“I tried once, but…I couldn’t. And that’s your fault.”

I was about to ask her why it was my fault—I knew why, but I wanted to hear her say it—when Pellerin limped into the room.

“I’ve been taking my meds. And I’m not a fool.” He lowered himself into a chair, smirking at us. “You crazy kids! Why don’t you run away and get hitched?”

Jo’s startled expression waned; she folded her hands in her lap and bowed her head, like Anne Boleyn awaiting the inevitable.

“It’s no big thing,” said Pellerin. “Really. So how about we ditch the soap opera and move on?”

“I’m worried about you,” Jo said.

“Fine. Worry about me,” said Pellerin. “But don’t get all fucked up behind it.”

The doorbell bonged and a man’s voice called out, “Room service.”

“I’ll get it,” I said.

I prevented the room service guy from entering, but he peered over my shoulder as I signed for the coffee and rolls. After I had poured coffee for me and Jo, Pellerin asked if I’d see whether the girls wanted anything, so I walked back to the bedroom to check and found Tammy and Thomasina engaged in activity that would have made the White Goddess blush. I returned to the living room and, in response to Pellerin’s inquiring look, said, “They’re good.”

“We were thinking,” Jo said, “that we should have a Plan B.”

I joined her on the sofa, tore open a package of Sweet ’n Low and dumped the contents into my coffee. “I didn’t realize we had a Plan A.”

“Confessing to Ruddle,” said Pellerin.

“That’s our plan? Okay.” I stirred the coffee. “Maybe we could create a disturbance. Get away in the confusion. I don’t know.”

Pellerin said, “You’re not exactly an expert criminal, are you?”

“I’m not a criminal at all. I arrange things, I put people together. It’s a gray area.”

“He’s an entrepreneur.” Jo smiled at me as if to cut the sting of what she’d said.

A shift in alignment seemed to have occurred—judging by that remark, she had repositioned herself closer to Pellerin than to me. I wondered if she were aware of this. A cruel comment came to mind, but I chose not to make it.

“We could cause a major earthquake, and I doubt it would help,” I said. “Josey can walk pretty good, but I expect running’s going to be called for and he’s not up to that.”