The Lake

Then, with a meaningful look at Leigh, she said, “Know what I’m sayin’? On the other hand, Leigh, maybe you wouldn’t wanna know what I’m sayin’. Even if you did, I’m not about to tell ya what that guy got up to.

“This I will say. What happened back in that small hick town made me want to get out there, smoke out all the pervs, the rapists—the psychos lurking in every goddamn corner of this big, beautiful country of ours…and give ’em hell. Or at least what the fuck they deserved—as far as the law allowed, that is.

“I joined Mill Valley Police Department. Became a crack shot, did martial arts. One of the guys, they called me.

“Met Mace. Worked with him. He ’peared to be an okay guy, all right. Looked after me. Gave me back my confidence in human nature, I guess. Rounded me off.” Her mouth curved in a mirthless grin. “I was a pretty messed-up gal in those days…”

Leigh frowned. “Mattie. I’m sorry. Really sorry. You must have been badly hurt…But what has this…”

“Got to do with Mace?”

“Right.”

“Well, I’ll tell ya, Leigh. I got to know Mace pretty well, bein’ his partner an’ all. He was my alter ego. My shadow. Christ. We didn’t even have to speak to know what we were both thinking.” Suddenly concerned, Mattie glanced across at Leigh, hoping she hadn’t come off too strong. Dropping her voice, she looked away. “Yeah. We were that close.”

Leigh sipped her coffee without even tasting it.

What had Mattie come to say?

Something about Mace?

If it was, she had a sinking feeling she didn’t want to hear it.

“I know you’re seeing a lot of Mace. And I don’t blame you. Or him. You’re a wonderful lady, Leigh. Money. Nice home. Great restaurant. A daughter who’s a credit to you…”

“And?”

“You don’t know Mace like I do, Leigh.”

“Cut the bullshit, Mattie. Let’s just get to where you’re at.”

“I mean, Leigh, the guy back there in Yellow Bend ain’t the only one who likes to hear a gal scream.”

Mattie finished her coffee. She left soon after delivering her parting shot, leaving Leigh to interpret the conversation as best she could.

Mattie’d spilled the beans, all right, Leigh thought. Leaving me with plenty to think about. Jesus. Most of what she’d said was beginning to make a lot of sense.

Carefully, Leigh picked through Mattie’s words, going over her sketchy innuendos. And, she didn’t mind admitting, it hurt like hell. For chrissake, Mattie couldn’t mean Mace was a psycho? Could she?

Shuddering, Leigh dismissed the thought.

Sure. Mace had a macho streak.

Most men have, she told herself.

But he isn’t a sadist, as Mattie implied. Mace was kind, civilized, and…normal.

Wasn’t he?

Sure he was. Look how he brought me flowers, champagne. Was always around to protect us from Nelson.

But, she told herself, I was the one who encouraged him.

He didn’t jump me.

I was the seducer; he, the seduced…

Leigh hesitated. She held her breath, last night’s little drama fixed firmly in her mind.

Some head, first, honey. Just to get things moving…

A cold shudder ran through her body.

A lot of guys like their head, she reasoned.

It’s all part of the foreplay.

But she’d reacted in such a goddamn crazy way. Like a dumb kid crying “rape.”

On the other hand, if what Mattie implied was true, that whole darn episode could be a taste of things to come…

THIRTY-SIX

“Hi, Mom. Thought I heard voices.”

“That’s right, honey. Mattie dropped by. To see how we’re doin’. Just checking.” She gave Deana a bright smile. “Want some coffee? It’s still hot. Or will be, once I’ve perked it up a little.”

Leigh switched on the percolator. Still thinking about Mattie. What was it with her? She fancy Mace herself, or something?

Way she went on, she all but hated him.

I’ve heard there’s a fine line between love and hate.

Could be she’s just plain jealous…

“Hey, Mom. The coffee’s perked. Pour mine while I get dressed, will you?”

“What did your last one die of, young lady?”

“The usual. Lack of breath, I guess.” Deana left the room, smiling. Mom was the best. Always so cool and nice about everything.

She felt a stab of guilt.

She didn’t like having secrets from Mom. It felt like betraying a friend.

Slipping into blue jeans and a yellow T-shirt, Deana decided the time was ripe to introduce Mom to Warren.

She’d like him. He was so sensible and grown up.

And he had his own business.

That ought to impress her.

Deana returned to the kitchen, her ponytail swinging jauntily. Mom was at the sink, rinsing out the two used coffee mugs. Deana picked up hers from the table.

Wisps of aromatic steam met her nostrils.

She felt better already.

I gotta tell Mom about Warren.

How shall I play it?

Dummy. Why not tell it like it is?

Just go for it, Deana.

“Mom.”

“Yes, dear?”

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Guy called Warren Hastings. Lives on Del Mar with his sister. And his dog, Sabre.”

Leighed perked up. She turned to face Deana.