Randy White - Black Widow

Beneath the table, a foot brushed my leg. I turned and gave Eddie a look of distaste. Hey.

Eddie, now stirring the mango paste into his beer, stared back and said, “What’s your fuckin’ problem, Ace? Never seen someone make a beer Slurpee before?”

The foot touched my leg again. I looked across the table. It was Beryl, signaling me with her blue-jean eyes.

Let’s get out of here.

A little after midnight, Shay called from the hospital, chatty in a way that told me she wanted information without revealing that she wanted it. I’d been at the computer doing research. I didn’t have to get up to answer the phone.

Shay said, “They wake my butt up every twenty minutes to make sure my brain’s still functioning, so I figured I’d check in. Ask you how the party went.”

I thought: She’s calling because she knows Michael and his mother came to the marina. Or because of Beryl.

I replied, “Party went fine. Good band, some great mangoes. Jeth and Janet brought their baby boy. He’s a cutie.” I played dense-stubborn after several beers, but also reacting to Shay’s gambit.

I listened to an update on Corey-she’d had a setback, but nothing serious. Something about electrolytes. Police had taken Vance in for questioning, then released him. Corey wouldn’t admit that Vance had hit her, but community services had stepped in, anyway. Her parents, too. Thumb bruises on a woman’s biceps tell a story. Corey’s family was getting a restraining order.

I said, “That’s good news,” looking at Vance’s phone on the microscope table. He’d gotten so many calls, I’d switched it off. Later, when I had time, I would copy the numbers. The phone was with my boat keys-next to Beryl’s purse.

As Shay continued talking, I stood, put Vance’s phone in a drawer, and closed it.

Shay told me, “A restraining order isn’t all I’d do if Michael hit me. But I don’t have to worry about that, thank God. He’s a good man, Doc-that’s why I’m worried. I’m scared I’m going to lose him over.. . over, you know, what I did. After the wedding-if there is a wedding-I hope you and Michael get a chance to spend time together.”

Was she fishing to get a response? Maybe. But she was also afraid-no finessing that. It was time to stop playing dense and reassure the girl. I told her Michael and I had talked. Nothing confidential, so he could fill in the details. I didn’t mention Michael’s offer, but said, “The man’s determined to marry you. He made that clear.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“You swear?”

“Yes.”

“But what about Saint Arc? He knows that I did something shitty when I was there. But how much does he know?”

I said, “Calm down, take a slow breath. You’re hyperventilating. I mean it-a slow breath.” I covered the phone and turned an ear to the lab’s north window. Through the screen, I could hear the shower running and a woman’s muffled singing.

I uncovered the phone and asked Shay, "Are you okay?”

She was crying again-only the second or third time since I’d known her. “No. I feel so goddamn helpless! Ida is doing everything she can to screw it up, that bitch! She’s always hated me.”

I said, “Michael’s mother.”

“Yes. Ida hires detectives when she wants information. She’s determined to dig up more dirt-not the first time, either. That’s why you have to tell me, Doc. How much does Michael know about the video?”

I said, “What video?” with the familiar emphasis, then added, “He asked about a video. I told him it was a story Vance invented. You know, to give him an excuse for hitting his wife.”

“Did he believe you?”

“Why wouldn’t he? Vance is a pathological liar. Your friends know it.”

Shay made a helpless, groaning sound. “Some nice circle of friends, huh? A wife beater. Two of us in the hospital after we fucked around like sorority girls, then flipped out. And Ida, the Grand Dame of Blame, stirring the pot.”

I said gently, “Take it easy, Shay. The blame’s not all yours. I’ll print out some stuff I researched and bring it to the hospital in the morning. I was right when I said you were targeted by pros.”

“That’s what I think. Those lowlifes!”

I had returned to the computer. On the screen was an article about a party drug known as “Icebreaker.”

Now was not the time to tell Shay.

I listened to her say, “Know what those pretty boys deserve? What Dexter Money would’ve done. Daddy would’ve tracked them down and shot the sons of bitches dead. You know who feels the same way? Beryl. We talked about it-we’re going into attack mode. She’s so pissed off about what Vance did, she’s been trying to get him on the phone to unload. He won’t answer, of course. She didn’t tell you tonight?”

Through the window, I heard the shower stop, along with a woman’s muted humming. I said, “No. Beryl didn’t mention it.”

“Beryl was at the party, wasn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“I bet she was all over Eddie now that her engagement’s off. I told her I liked him a lot, so it’s practically guaranteed she’ll hit on him.”

An interesting friendship, these two women had.

I said, “Maybe they talked, I’m not sure. Eddie said to give you a hug.” He’d also said some things I wasn’t going to repeat to an engaged woman-Eddie had a thing for Shay, too.

“I don’t blame Beryl, it’s just the way she is. Probably because of what happened.”

“What’s that mean?”

There was a silence-Shay getting calmer as her brain began to put things together. “I… I got the impression she was going to take you aside and have an honest talk. I told her it was the best way-you’re big on honesty.”

Cupping the phone, I said, “Beryl mentioned it. Thanks.”

“But she didn’t tell you anything… personal? She said she would. I told her you should know where she stands. Beryl and I feel the same when it comes to the three pretty boys. All bullies, period, and guys who victimize women. If the cops don’t do their jobs, hey, what’s the alternative?”

“Beneath those beautiful faces, you both have hearts of steel.”

“Don’t make jokes. It’s the way a woman has to be. With me, you understand because you met Daddy. With Beryl, though, it’s because of something that happened when she was thirteen. It took her a long time to recover-that’s the reason she started college late. But if she didn’t tell you what happened-”

I interrupted, “Actually, she brought it up. She said you’d tell me if I asked.”

“I’d tell you?”

“Yes, that maybe you’d give me her background. So I’m asking.”

I listened carefully-also hearing a woman’s bare feet on the deck outside-as Shay said, “Well, it was on the national news, so it’s not like some deep, dark secret. Think back-it was a long time ago. Fifteen, sixteen years-you might remember. Beryl was abducted from her bedroom. Some man, they never caught him-this was in Colorado. He kept her for three days. A couple of Boy Scouts found her wandering in a state park near Boulder. That’s why her family moved to Florida.”

I was thinking, Woodward… Colorado… schoolgirl missing, picturing the headlines, but possibly confusing her abduction with others. One missing child is a tragedy. Hundreds of missing children, year after year, is a statistic.

I said, “No wonder she left it up to you to tell me,” turning to get a glimpse of the woman through the east window, wearing a towel like a sarong, using another to dry her hair.

“Thing is, she doesn’t mind talking about it. She doesn’t get into the details, of course. But generally, how the legal system should deal with men who do that kind of sick crap. That’s why Beryl’s the way she is.”