Shiloh Walker: Telling Tales

Just for a while, though. Darci had started watching things, listening to people talk…to the stories Carrie told, comparing her stories to the people she was supposedly so worried about.

Just lies. Almost everything that came out of her mouth was lies.

The problem was that this last one could damage somebody’s career, either Darci’s or Joe’s. Worse…it could wreck a marriage.

Generally, Darci didn’t give a damn what anybody else thought. It wouldn’t matter…if it weren’t for Joe, and for her job.

She taught art at an elementary school …in the Bible Belt of America. The parents wouldn’t tolerate the teacher of their kids being a tramp.

And Joe…he was a married man, a new daddy. They didn’t need this.

All Darci wanted to do was to take her pictures and be left alone.

All some other people wanted to do was cause trouble.

And damn it, some people believed what they said.

Della believed it. Della actually believed Darci was going around fucking every man she could get her hands on, including Della’s current man-one she was moon-eyed in love with. Max was the first man to come along in a long time who made Della want more than just a quick fuck.

Never mind the fact that Darci and Max didn’t generally even like each other.

Hell, she believed the bullshit that Darci was at a hotel in the middle of the afternoon fucking somebody else’s husband, believed she had fucked everybody she could…from the head of the city council to the boy who was delivering pizzas.

Darci knew, because Della had just finished shouting that garbage in her ear.

So far, Carrie hadn’t even noticed that Darci was in the room.

Darci, smiling an evil smile, lifted her heavy purse high over her head and let it fall to the glass table. The purse clattered loudly, keys jangling, digital camera falling out, coins rolling and jingling merrily. Darci smiled angelically as Carrie jumped and shrieked, whirling around in her chair, her chubby face white and pasty with shock, her eyes wide behind her glasses.

“A little jumpy?” Darci asked in dulcet tones.

Carrie had one hand pressed to her chest, and she swallowed, glaring at Darci. For one second, malevolence flashed in her muddy brown eyes before she pasted a smile of false sympathy on her face and said, “My, you gave me such a start. You need to be more careful, tossing your things down. You know how easily startled I am. How are you doing, love?”

“Don’t call me ‘love,’ Carrie. And you know damned good and well how I’m doing with the bullshit you started,” Darci said coldly, flicking her short, spiked hair away from her face. “I’m surprised Kim didn’t buzz you and tell you I was on my way up. Give you warning and all.”

“I asked not to be disturbed,” Carrie said, smiling her patented mother-earth smile. “I’ve been trying to…well. I’m trying to understand what is going on, why you would do what you’ve done.”

“Cut the bullshit, Carrie. You and I know who started this, and why I was called into my boss’s office today, and why I received a very nasty, angry phone call from Della Bennett,” Darci said quietly, sitting down on the suede couch, crossing one leg over the other. “Why Joe is having to defend himself against a bunch of slanderous rumors that he was seen at a hotel…with me. Why Della thinks I spent the weekend fucking her man.”

Darci saw the flicker in Carrie’s eyes, watched the tiny smile on her face. But Carrie only arched her brows and shook her head, heaving that patented martyred sigh. “What are you doing, Darci? Why are you lying to yourself, to everybody, like this?” she asked mournfully. “Don’t you understand how destructive this behavior is?”

But Darci could sense the crafty glee in her voice. Hear it there. And she knew. Any doubt she might have had that somebody else was behind this was gone. Gently, Darci said, “Maybe you don’t understand how destructive this behavior is, Carrie. I don’t take shit lying down. Never have, never will.”

Darci stood up, running a hand through her short, spiked cap of black hair before focusing her green eyes on Carrie’s face once more. A small, cold smile danced on her lips as she moved closer to the older woman.

“It’s one thing when you try to make my life miserable, Carrie,” she said, circling to lean her hip on Carrie’s table, studying the work in progress there.

Carrie just sat there, glaring at Darci, her small mouth puckering in an ugly scowl.

“But it’s another when you start messing with my job, when you start dragging my friends into it.”

Carrie opened her mouth, sputtering, but Darci just slashed at the air with her hand and snapped, “Shut the fuck up. Got it? You totally fucked up this time. You fucked with my job. Bad enough you have to try to smear my name, but you had to go and smear the name of a good man and try to ruin his marriage. You’ve probably ruined friendships, but they can go to hell, because if they believe a word that comes out of your mouth, then they’ve got rocks for brains. But you hurt people this time. And not just me. That totally, totally pisses me off, and me pissed off is a very, very bad thing.”

Carrie’s face was florid now and her mouth opened and closed. Something not quite lucid passed through her dark, muddy eyes as her hand closed around a cutting tool and Darci narrowed her eyes. “Try it, babe. Just try it. I dare you.”

Carrie’s hand fell away, fisting in her lap as she stared at Darci, hatred lurking in her eyes.

“Why did you have to drag Joe into it?” Darci asked quietly. “Why him?”

Bitingly, Carrie said, “I didn’t drag him into it. He did it himself. Maybe he should have thought of the consequences before he broke his wedding vows.” She folded her hands primly in her lap and forced her mouth into that proper, mothering smile.

Darci rolled her eyes and muttered, “You’ll be like that at St. Peter’s gates, won’t you? But Peter will know the truth. And so do I. So don’t waste my time.” Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “Is it a hobby? Do you enjoy ruining people’s lives? Is yours so pathetic that this is what you have to do for kicks?”

“She’s been doing it a long time, I’d say the answer is yes,” a deep voice, full of anger, said.

Darci looked up just as Joe walked in, his eyes on her and Carrie, his face cold with disgust. “Tell me something, Carrie, do you really think you can keep this up and get away with it?” he asked.

“Joe, I really don’t know what you are talking about. But maybe you should be at home, trying to repair your marriage, instead of here, trying to blame me,” Carrie said, her voice waspish. But her eyes darted away from him, her hands quivering just slightly.

“Now Darci here, Darci is, naturally, very upset. Bad enough she can’t seem to keep her indiscretions quiet, and with single men. But she’s tried to interfere with a man and his marriage. Of course, if she had learned to think before acting…well, she wouldn’t be in the hot water she is in,” Carrie said, her eyes taking on a kindly glow as she moved to pat Darci’s hand. “I understand that she could lose her job-”

Darci caught the older woman’s hand before Carrie could touch her and, pressing her thumb on the nerves in Carrie’s wrist, watched as Carrie’s face paled and her eyes darkened with pain. “Haven’t I told you about touching me?” she warned. “Haven’t I warned you before to stay away from me? Very, very far away from me?”

Carrie gasped and Darci threw her hand down and stepped back. She cut her gaze to Joe, arching a black brow at him. “I imagine you’ve been hearing the same tripe that I have?” Darci drawled.