Кей Хупер - Hiding in the Shadows

Bishop hesitated, reluctant to interfere but unable not to. "You can say it's none of my business, but I would have to be blind and stupid not to notice how things are between you and Faith. And I'm neither."

"I don't know what you mean." Kane heard the echo of his earlier denial to Faith, and wondered if everything he felt was branded on his forehead like neon. "And you're right. It's none of your business."

Bishop was no more warned off than Faith had been. "She got under your skin — and you're angry at her for making you betray Dinah."

"You're full of shit."

Bishop smiled. "Am I? Maybe about some things, but not this. All I'm saying is that you can't beat up yourself or Faith because of what you feel, especially now. I can't believe Dinah would consider it a betrayal that the friend she tried so hard to help might find a place for herself in your life."

"There's no question of that."

"No?"

"No. I don't feel anything for her. Not anything like that. She's just ... a tool I can use to help me find out who killed Dinah. Nothing more."

Deliberately, Bishop said, "It's hell having a guilty conscience, isn't it?"

"You don't know what you're talking about, Noah."

"I'm sure you'd like to think so."

"Leave it alone, all right? Just leave it alone."

Kane didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to think about it. And most of all, he didn't want to have Noah's probing spider sense focused on him.

"I can't do that, Kane. It goes against the grain with me to walk away and let a friend tear himself to pieces just because he's human. And that's all it is I you know. You're human. Dinah's gone. She's been gone for weeks, and if you're honest with yourself you'll have to admit that deep down inside you knew she wasn't coming back."

"Just shut up, all right?"

"It's the truth and you know it. You gave up on Dinah, Kane, even though you kept going through the motions, kept telling yourself it wasn't true. But it is true. She's gone, and even while you were searching for her, another woman got under your skin."

Kane allowed some of the rage inside him to boll over. He was on his feet before he realized he had moved, hands clenched into fists, so desperate to strike out it was a sick pain in his gut.

"What the hell's wrong with you? Christ, Noah, Dinah's barely cold. She's lying on a slab in the morgue, hurt in so many god-awful ways I could hardly recognize her as the woman I loved. Her final days were spent in a hell of agony I can't even imagine, and when those bastards were finished with her they shut her away her worst nightmare, leaving her to die alone and terrified, to bleed to death or smother in the dark grave of that tiny room beneath the ground."

"We don't know for sure she died in that room. Maybe she never suffered that final terror," Bishop said quietly.

Kane barely heard him. His voice rose, anguished, as he asked the contemptuous questions that had been whispering in the back of his mind for days now.

"What kind of man do you think I am? Do you think it's so easy for me to forget her, to just push her aside because a fresh new piece walks in the door? Do you think any other woman could take Dinah's place? That I could ever feel for anyone else a tenth of what I felt for her?"

"Kane..."

"I loved her. Do you understand that? I loved her."

"I know."

"I wake up every god damned night aching inside because she's not here. Because she hasn't been here in so long. I hate myself because I gave up on her even before they found her body, even before I knew she was gone. I'm furious at her because she kept so much of herself out of my reach, furious at myself because I wasn't able to reach her. And now... now I'll never be able to. She's gone. She's gone."

"And Faith?"

"Faith?" A hard laugh escaped his lips. "I thought she was a connection to Dinah. That's all. For a while, I even thought — even believed — that some part of Dinah was alive in her, had rubbed off on her somehow. I'd see her find Dinah's nail polish without really looking for it, as if she knew just where Dinah kept it, see her eat the same things Dinah did in just the same way. I'd smell Dinah's perfume on her, hear her use the same phrases, the same tone of voice, turn her head the same way ... and I let myself believe Dinah wasn't really gone."

"Are you so sure that's what it was? All it was?"

"Of course I'm sure. Do you really think I could feel anything else? For her?"

"It's all right to feel, Kane."

"No, it's not all right! God damn you, it's never going to be all right!"

In the hallway, unseen by the two men, Faith crept away, into the bathroom where she had been about to shower. She closed the door and turned on the water to shut out even the distant rumble of Kane's raised voice, and stared at her pale face in the mirror.

Odd. She'd never before realized that pain could be a visible, suffering thing in someone's eyes.

She looked away, then focused on her hands lying tense on the vanity top. Dinah's red nail polish coated her neat oval nails. Nearby was a bottle of Dinah's perfume, which she had so unthinkingly used.

The terrible anger in his voice.

She looked at the blouse and slacks on the hamper, the clean clothing she'd found unharmed in the closet and had meant to wear after her shower, and realized she had no idea whether it was her clothing or Dinah's.

"I'll know if it doesn't fit," she murmured to herself. "Her clothing doesn't fit me. At least there's that."

The horrible revulsion in his voice .

She picked up the bottle of perfume and shut it away in the cabinet of the vanity. Then she began to remove her nail polish. She swiped the cotton ball roughly back and forth against her nails, frantic to get the red color off.

There was a queasiness in the pit of her stomach, and she felt light-headed, dizzy.

"I didn't do it deliberately," she murmured, avoiding the reflection of that stricken woman in the mirror. "I didn't even realize I had..."

Kane sat on the couch with his head in his hands for a long time before he was finally able to look at his friend. "Jesus. I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be. You needed to let it out."

"Maybe." Kane felt exhausted. "But I didn't need to act like it was all your fault."

"It's nobody's fault."

"I'd really like to blame somebody, Noah." Kane knew his smile was twisted.

"Because you've been lucky enough to find two women you could feel so much for? I'd say fate was smiling on you for that, pal."

Kane linked his fingers together and stared at them. He didn't want to say it, but the words seemed forced up from some wellspring of emotion he had finally tapped. "I can't be in love with her, Noah. I can't. I still love Dinah."

"You'll always love Dinah," Bishop said quietly. "It isn't a betrayal of her memory to also love someone else."

"Then why do I hate myself for it?"

After a moment, Bishop said, "Guilt is easier to feel than acceptance."

"Bastard," Kane said.

"It's true. Dinah's gone. You're still here. And life goes on." He smiled. "Clichés, but also truth. You have to go on with your life. Plan her memorial service, Kane. Try to discover who killed her and see to it they're punished for what they did. Then let her go. Say goodbye."

"I don't know if I can do that."

"You've been letting go of her for weeks now." He watched that truth settle over Kane, saw the slight nod of reluctant agreement, and was satisfied.

The intercom buzzed then, announcing that Bishop's cab had arrived, and Kane got up to see his friend to the door.

"Keep in touch," he said. "Oh, I will. And you do me a favor, okay?"

"I can."

"Take care of yourself. And take care of Faith."

"I'll do my best."

When Bishop had gone, Kane went to the end of the hallway to the bedrooms and listened. He heard the shower and felt a twinge of relief that Faith had been occupied and had missed his tirade.