“… I wish I could have stayed around to watch. Was it impre-pre-pressive, Kay? Wasn’t it something? I don’t like it when you have other me-me-men in your house. Now you know. Now you know.”
The answering machine stopped and the message light began to blink. Shutting my eyes, I took slow, deep breaths as my heart raced, shadows from the candle flame wavering silently on the walls. How could this be happening to me?
I knew what I had to do. It was the same thing Beryl Madison had done. I wondered if I was experiencing the same fear she had felt when fleeing the car wash, the ragged heart scratched on her car door. My hands trembled violently as I opened the drawer in the bedside table and pulled out the Yellow Pages. After I made the reservations, I called Benton Wesley.
“I don’t advise that, Kay,” he said, instantly wide awake. “No. Under no circumstances. Listen to me, Kay–”
“I have no choice, Benton. I just wanted someone to know. You can inform Marino, if you wish. But don’t interfere. Please. The manuscript–”
“Kay–”
“I’ve got to find it. I think that’s where it is.”
“Kay! You’re not thinking right!”
“Look.” My voice rose. “What am I supposed to do? Wait here until the bastard decides to kick in my door or blow up my car? I stay here, I’m dead. Haven’t you figured that out yet, Benton?”
“You’ve got an alarm system. You’ve got a gun. He can’t blow up your car with you in it. Uh, Marino called. He told me what happened. They’re pretty sure someone doused a rag with gasoline, stuffed it into the gas tank. They found pry marks. He pried open the–”
“Jesus, Benton. You’re not even listening to me.”
“Listen. You listen. Please listen to me, Kay. I’ll get cover for you, get someone to move in with you, all right? One of our female agents–”
“Good night, Benton.”
“Kay!”
I hung up and didn’t answer when he immediately called back. I listened numbly to his protests on the machine, blood pounding in my neck as the images rushed back at me, images of Marino’s car hissing as flames snarled at arching blasts of water from tumescent fire hoses snaking over my street. When I had discovered the charred little corpse at the end of my driveway, something inside me snapped. The gas tank in Marino’s car must have exploded at the very instant Sammy Squirrel was frantically hopping along the power line. Crazily, he leapt for safety. For a split second, his paws simultaneously made contact with the grounded transformer and primary line. Twenty thousand volts of electricity surged through his tiny body, burning him to a crisp and blowing the fuse.
I had scooped him into a shoe box and buried him in my rose garden, the idea of seeing his blackened shape in the light of morning more than I could bear.
The electricity was still out when I finished packing. I went downstairs and nursed brandy and smoked until I stopped shaking, my Ruger on top of the bar glinting in the light of hurricane lanterns. I did not go to bed. I did not look at the wreckage of my yard when I bolted out my door, my suitcase thumping against my leg and filthy water splashing my ankles as I ran to my car. I did not see a single patrol unit as I drove swiftly along my silent street. When I got to the airport shortly after five A.M., I headed straight for the ladies’ room and took my handgun out of my pocketbook. Unloading it, I packed it inside my suitcase.
5
Passing through the boarding bridge, I deplaned at noon into the sun-drenched concourse of Miami International Airport.
I stopped to buy the Miami Herald and a cup of coffee. Finding a small table halfway hidden by a potted palm, I took off my winter blazer and pushed up my sleeves. I was soaking wet, perspiration trickling down my sides and back. My eyes burned from lack of sleep, my head ached, and what I discovered when I spread open the paper did nothing to improve my condition. In the lower left-hand comer of the front page was a spectacular photograph of firefighters hosing down Marino’s flaming car. Accompanying the dramatic tableau of arching water, billowing smoke, and trees igniting at the edge of my yard was the following caption: