Brian Freeman - Immoral

Sally said nothing. She didn't know what to do.

Rachel sidled closer to her. She stroked Sally's hair, and Sally tried to pull away. Rachel held her. "Do you understand me, Salty?"

"I don't understand any of this.

"Then just tell me you believe me. You believe me, don't you? You know I'd take Kevvy away from you in a second."

Sally nodded.

"Good," Rachel said. She grinned. With her other hand, she let a finger run along Sally's cheek. Then she leaned closer and, with sweet breath, kissed Sally softly on the lips. The kiss lingered, and Sally felt sick.

"Don't forget," Rachel told her. "Not a word."

Stride listened to Sally's story with growing horror. He shook his head slowly.

"Do you realize the hell you could have saved everyone if you'd told us what happened?" he asked her.

Sally shrugged, completely unrepentant "You didn't know Rachel, Mr. Stride. She meant what she said. If I had told anyone about seeing her, she would have made it her life's mission to take Kevin away from me. I knew what she was capable of. Back then, it seemed like I was the only one who did."

"You were willing to let Graeme Stoner go to prison? When you knew he was innocent?"

Sally's eyes flashed with anger. "Innocent? Like hell. I told the truth about him hijacking me in his car. If he hadn't been scared off at the barn, he would have raped me. And I'll bet I wasn't the only one. You already knew he was fucking Rachel."

"But why lie on the stand?" Stride asked.

"I had to think fast," Sally said. "I figured I was sending Rachel a message, wherever she was: I'm keeping my end of the bargain. You keep yours."

Serena stared into Sally's determined eyes. "You wouldn't have liked it if Rachel came back, would you?"

Sally didn't blink. "No, I wouldn't have liked that at all. She was dead. I wanted her to stay that way. But if you're still thinking we went to Vegas and I finished the job, you're wrong. Rachel kept her end of the bargain. She never came back."

"You never heard from her?"

"Never. I think you're looking in the wrong place. You should be in Vegas, seeing whose lives she was destroying there. A bitch like that never changes. You can bet she was up to the same old tricks."

"Do you know what was in the plastic bag she was carrying?" Stride asked.

Sally shook her head. "I couldn't see."

"And she didn't have anything else with her?"

"Nothing. Just the clothes on her back. Same clothes she was wearing down in Canal Park that night."

"The white turtleneck?" Stride asked.

"Yes."

"Was it ripped in any way?"

"I didn't notice," Sally said.

"How about the bracelet?" Stride asked. "Was she still wearing it?"

Sally closed her eyes and reflected. "I think so. Yeah, I'm sure she was. I can still see it dangling on her wrist."

Stride nodded, his mind working through the possibilities. "Did she say how she was getting out of town? Was she meeting someone?"

Sally shook her head. "I don't know. I really don't. She didn't say anything about going away."

But she had to be leaving town, Stride thought. Did something else happen that changed her plans-something at the barn? Because she was at the barn that night. The bracelet put her there. Sally saw her outside her home, and somehow, later that night, she ended up at the barn, leaving behind evidence that pointed the finger at Graeme Stoner. Then she was gone.

"You must have thought about it later," Stride said. "What did you think?"

"I was as puzzled as everyone else. I figured she either hitched a ride with a guy and seduced him to keep him quiet, or she conned one of the guys at school to drive her to the Cities."

"But you didn't help her? You don't know anything more?"

"No, I don't And I'd like to get back to Kevin now."

Stride nodded. "All right, Sally."

The girl pushed herself off the sofa and brushed past him, leaving Stride and Serena alone in the laundry room.

"What do you mink, Jonny?" Serena asked.

Stride stared at the washing machines and wondered how much Guppo was going to love getting out of bed in the middle of the night to pack up a giant bag of wet dirty laundry.

"I think Rachel's dead, and she's still playing games with us."

"You're starting to bore me, baby," Lavender said peevishly. "I didn't think we were going to spend the whole evening talking. I figured a nice dinner and then a long slow ride, you know?"

Cordy took her face in his hands and kissed her. He dropped one hand to her right breast and caressed it softly, slipping his thumb inside one of the open patches. "Me too, mama. But I need to know, okay?"

She put her hand over his and tightened it on her breast. "Just so you know what you're missing," she said.

Cordy groaned. "Just a few more questions."

Lavender sighed and let go.

They sat in his car in the Bellagio parking lot Cordy drove the black PT Cruiser he had won on the slots of Sam's Town two years earlier-the biggest jackpot he had ever scored. He pampered the car like a baby and always parked it in a far corner, safe from dings and dents. The leather interior smelled of salsa and cigars, his two biggest weaknesses after sex and gambling.

He tried to concentrate, which wasn't easy, staring at the tight fabric on Lavender's chest.

"Tell me again about the boyfriend," he murmured.

"I only saw him once, Cordy," Lavender said. "I've told you that three times."

"And each time you remember a little more, mama. That's the way it works."

Lavender rolled her eyes. "It was a really hot night, just like this one. We were at the club. Christi and I both danced there, same shift. She was good, you know? She didn't like it, not like I do, but she was real good. Anyway, that night, about a year ago, this guy came backstage at the club after she was done with her act and hung out with us for a while. No name or anything like that. But I remember Christi calling him an old boyfriend. That was funny."

"Why?"

Lavender giggled. "'Cause he was so old. You know, old boyfriend. Get it?"

"How old?" Cordy asked.

"I don't know. Forty. Fifty. You know, old."

"What did he look like?"

"Oh, I don't remember. Average."

"Dark or light hair?"

"Uh, dark, I think. Graying, maybe. I don't know."

"Height?"

"Kinda tall," Lavender said.

Cordy realized he was getting nowhere. "And you had never seen him before? Christi never mentioned him?"

Lavender shook her head. "Nope."

"What about after? Did you see him after that?"

"Nope," she said again.

Cordy took a new tack. "You called him creepy before. What was creepy about him?"

Lavender frowned. "He didn't talk much. Christi was kind of ignoring him, and he didn't like it. It looked like he really wanted to get her alone, and she obviously didn't want that Looked like two people in the middle of a fight you know? Plus, he had this look in his eyes. Real intense. You know-creepy. If he wasn't a boyfriend, I would have figured him for a stalker. We get a lot of that kind. But he had it bad for her."

"How do you know?"

"Well, hey, this was the dressing room, you know? Half the girls were naked. Beautiful girls. Hell, I was naked, right in front of this guy. He didn't react at all. Didn't even see us. He didn't see anyone but Christi."

Cordy tried to imagine anyone not noticing Lavender naked. It was impossible.

"Do you remember what they talked about?"

"No. He sat off by himself, and every now and then, he would whisper something to her. But she mostly talked to the rest of us girls, not him. She was teasing him a little, I think. Trying to piss him off by ignoring him."

"Did Christi ever have other boyfriends meet her at the club?"

"Never. That was the only time. I don't think I would have remembered otherwise. Christi was a loner, a real cold fish."