“Of course you do. He’ll have to leave early in the morning and by then we’ll know just how big the trust is. If there’s enough to help Mickey, we can hang in there. But if it’s too small, I’ll dump him and you and I can finally catch up on all the time we’ve lost.”
“Don’t matter no more.”
They pulled into the motel’s parking lot. “I’d come in with you for a few minutes,” she said, “but I’m already late.”
“No problem,” he said in a calmer voice. He opened the door and turned his head. “But I’ve changed my mind. When this is all over, I still want us to kill both of them.” He closed the door and walked toward his room.
Regardless of whether Don really meant what he said Miranda didn’t have time to argue. As far as killing people was concerned, she couldn’t do that, especially not Mac, now that she owed him so much and had all these new feelings for him. And certainly not Don. She owed him even more. If she had to choose—stop that! She couldn’t eliminate either one. She’d changed Don’s mind about killing Rachel and Mac before. She’d just have to do it again.
She turned the final corner and headed home. Mac was parked in her driveway and appeared to be talking to his bike. As she pulled in, he smiled, then opened her car door. It was another small example of what she appreciated about him.
Once she was on her feet, he drew her to him. “I’m glad to see you,” he whispered.
The feeling was mutual. “Me too, Sweets. Let’s go inside.”
“I’ll get your bags.”
Bags? Oh, crap. “Uh-oh. I can’t believe what I did.” She twirled a finger near her temple. “I was so excited about seeing you, I forgot to put them in my car.”
He grinned. “Glad to hear I have that effect on you. We can go back and get them.”
“Nah. Somebody probably got them by now. Besides, I’d rather be alone with you. Let’s just go inside.”
Mac draped his arm across her shoulder. “Fine with me. You smell wonderful.”
He was always noticing the small things, but Don rarely made comments like that. Safely inside and hidden from nosy neighbors, Mac immediately turned Miranda toward him. He gazed into her eyes and whispered, “God, you’re beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she murmured faintly.
He gently took her head in his steady hands and drew her closer. She welcomed the slower pace and the tenderness when their lips met. Her eyes drifted upwards while her eyelids came sinking down. Her legs were numb. She quietly lowered her purse to the floor. For the time being she only had one thing in mind and it wasn’t the trust.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Five a.m.
Mac had gone home to Rachel, and the moonless sky had laid a shadowy blanket over the streets as if to tuck the city in one last time before sun-up. Meanwhile, Miranda had grabbed a shower and now she was just about the only one on the road.
“I had to do it,” she said out loud. “It’s just part of the plan, Don’s plan,” she scoffed. Truth was, no matter how many times she tried to convince herself otherwise, she enjoyed Mac’s company too much and couldn’t snuff out the guilt pangs that accompanied those feelings.
Off in the distance, the flickering neon sign of Don’s motel came into view. If she were lucky, he’d be asleep or at least more concerned about Rachel’s trust than the fact that she had just spent the night with his brother. She pulled in and quickly scanned the shadowy areas. Nobody was lurking.
A long cement catwalk that reminded her of her conjugal visits led her to unit 118. Don immediately let her in, revealing a room dark enough for bats. The TV was off. No radio. No bathroom light. Don turned away, said nothing. Somehow, she knew he’d not gotten any sleep. “Hi, Donnie. Mind if I turn on the light?”
“Don’t care.”
The flicked switch revealed a partly crumpled paper sack at the side of the only chair. On the counter, a line of empty beer cans stood side-by-side like lazy tin soldiers. “You okay?”
Don didn’t speak, or nod, or ask about the trust. She sat on the corner of the bed closest to him. “You got an extra beer?” she asked, looking for any way to melt the veil of ice between them.
A single warm one remained. She popped the tab and glanced around the room. “I’m sorry you have to spend so much time in here.”
“Seen worse.”
“Yeah, I know. Three years behind bars for protecting me.” She dragged her foot across the matted carpet. “And this is how you get repaid.”
“Not your fault.”
She reached out, lifted his chin. “Well, I’ll never forget what you did for me.”
Don gently pushed her hand away. “Enjoy yourself?”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s true. You’re the one I love.”
“Then why’d it take you so long to get back here?”
“I couldn’t tell Mac that his brother was waiting for me, could I?”
“You coulda made up a good lie if you wanted to.”
“Would it help if I said I had some good news?”
He raised his head.
“You were right. Rachel didn’t know anything about the trust. But you were wrong about something else. And you’re gonna be very glad you were.”
He raised his chin. “Oh, yeah. Just how glad am I going to be?”
She took another slow but teasing sip of her beer. “There’s going to be enough for Mickey, and a little more if you still want it.”
“After what we’ve been through, damn right I want it. How much?”
She rose and set her beer can in line with the others, then she slowly twisted them so they all faced the same direction. “What do donuts, astrological signs and months of the year all have in common?”
Don’s eyes popped. “They all come in twelves.” He sprung to his feet. “Twelve million?”
She let her happy eyes answer his question.
“Twelve effing million? No shit?” his voice was much louder now and a smile replaced the previous frown.
Miranda put her finger to her lips, “Shhhh.”
“I knew it. I knew it. I knew it,” he shouted as he jumped into the air.
“Donnie, be quiet,” She scolded. “You’ll wake the neighbors.”
“Screw ‘em,” he screamed out. “I knew it. I knew it!” He grabbed Miranda and threw her on the bed. It cracked and one side fell to the floor, causing them to roll downhill into a pile, with Miranda more or less on top. Don broke out in hysterical laughter. Miranda tried to shush him again, but his out-of-control enthusiasm was both welcomed and contagious. She giggled too.
Don rolled over on top of her and their eyes met. He gently collapsed upon her and their lips found each other—just as somebody banged on the wall.
Miranda pushed him back slightly, smiled, whispered. “See. I told you.”
“I’m the one who told you,” he boasted, as he banged on the wall too. “Let’s get outta here. Go get some breakfast or something.”
Relieved, Miranda squeezed his hand and looked him up and down seductively. “Don’t you want to finish what we started?”
He shook his head. “Too stoked. We can do that later.”
* * *
Nearly a full hour had elapsed since daylight had erased the night. Mercifully, Don was so excited he hadn’t mentioned Mac again.
Miranda wiped some toast crumbs from their table, peeking at her watch. “Ten after seven. I’m going to need some sleep pretty soon.”
“Yeah, me too, but I’m still a little pumped up.” Don threw a few bucks on the table for a tip and grabbed the check. “Let’s get outta here.”
“I’m going to the restroom while you pay the bill.” A minute later, alone and settled into the stall, Miranda reflected on the chain of events since the twin convention. How had everything gotten so damn complicated? At the moment she was particularly concerned about Don’s living arrangements. It was almost as if he wer
e still in prison. If there were only some way she could spice things up for him so that he didn’t spend so much time fretting over the time she had to spend with Mac.
When she re-entered the hallway, she could see Don up ahead in the lobby. Just a few minutes earlier he’d implied he wasn’t quite ready to go to the motel. Couldn’t blame him for that. Too much like the shithole.
“I know what we can do,” she said as they pushed the doors open. “You’ve never seen Vivian’s office. Why don’t I show you how it came out?”
“Why would I care about that place?”
“We had to pay for the full three months, so you might as well see it.” She tugged his hand. “C’mon. It’ll help us wind down.”
“All right.” He stuffed the breakfast receipt in his jeans.
They slowly walked to Miranda’s SUV. “You drive,” Miranda said. After she buckled up, she placed her palms on her eyelids and gently massaged away the scratchiness.
“I meant what I said, you know,” Don said in a firm voice, “about killing that woman—and my brother too.”
He might as well have jolted her with a stun gun. “No. No. No, Donnie,” she said shaking her head wildly. “We already settled this.”
“Things have changed. That big chick is smart and she can afford to hire a slew of investigators.”
“But we’re clean, Donnie. I made sure Mac never left any clues.”
“I don’t trust him. He’s been living with that cow for several months. He could easily decide he’d rather stick with her and her pot of gold than share it with you.”
Miranda dug her fingernails into her palms. Taking Rachel’s money was one thing, but taking lives was altogether different.
“We gotta off her first and we gotta do it pretty soon, before she has another period and screws everything up.”
“But I can’t do that, Donnie. I don’t think Mac could either.”
“Fuck him. He’s a pussy. I don’t give a shit about him. That’s why he’s gotta go, too.”
Don turned the SUV into the driveway of the midwife’s building. A few cars sprinkled the lot. “I wouldn’t mind offing both of them today, right now,” he said.
Now he was just being insane. Miranda placed her hand on his arm. “You know I’m on your side, but I think we ought to wait to make plans until we’re sure Mac has access to the trust. They’re seeing an attorney in a few days. We should know more after that.”
Don parked. “Good. Then we agree.”
She ignored the comment for the time being and nothing more was said until a few minutes later when they arrived at suite 303.
Chapter Forty-Eight
There it was again. That God-awful piercing scream. Mac begged it to go away, but it refused. Motionless, and unable to concentrate, he felt something on his arm. “C’mon husband. Get up. Time to go to work.”
Easy for Rachel to say. Thanks to a sleeping pill, she had gotten a good night’s sleep, but he’d spent the bulk of the night with Miranda and a couple hours of real sleep wasn’t enough. “Hit the snooze,” he muttered as he packed his pillow around his ears.
Rachel lifted the corner and said, “I’ve put on some coffee.”
Mac hated this part of his life. The make-believe. Getting up before he was ready. Nevertheless, he had to maintain his image: that of an electrician at NASA. Mickey and Miranda were counting on him and for once in his life he was determined to complete a significant good deed.
His feet found the floor, his elbows found his knees and his head found refuge in his palms. A little later, his coffee and oatmeal were followed by a ritual shit, shower and shave, during which he scowled at a red-eyed idiot in the mirror.
Routine completed, he and Rachel made their way to the garage, where he jiggled Annie off the kickstand. This was when he usually went to see Miranda, but she said she wouldn’t be available before noon. This sucked. Maybe he should circle around the block and come back to snag some more Z’s. Nah. Nosy neighbors might see him and blow his cover. He kicked Annie into low gear and hit the remote. Might as well get gas.
“You look like crap,” he imagined Annie saying.
“No shit. I’m fed up with alarm clocks and stupid clothes. Always trying to stay in character. Four months of that’ll just about kill a guy.”
“Can’t you just go sleep at Miranda’s?”
Mac snickered. “Sometimes that chick’s really weird, too. Everything comes with strings, especially lately. She used to see me pretty much any time I wanted. Except on Thursday mornings, of course. But, for some reason, that’s no longer important to her. Instead, she only wants to see me when Rachel’s at work or I set an appointment, like she’s some damn attorney or something.”
They stopped at a light, across from the midwife’s office building. He smiled. Miranda’s creativity when they had “played doctor” trumped all of her little quirks.
The light turned green. When he got up a little further he glanced toward the midwife’s parking lot. “Hey. That looks like Miranda’s SUV.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Don was halfway to the elevator when Miranda locked the door. She hurried to catch up but wasn’t sure what to say. The bell pinged and the doors opened.
Miranda had hoped that some adult recreation would distract Don from all his murderous ideas. She even pointed at the same padded table with the stirrups and asked him essentially the same question she’d asked of Mac about “playing doctor,” only this time, it sounded stupid. Based on what didn’t happen, Don must have thought so, too.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said as she pushed the button. “It happens to all men.”
“First time for me.”
“You’ll be fine after we get some sleep.”
Don turned and faced her. “I bet you did my brother in that office?”
No use denying it. She’d already admitted she liked having sex with Mac. She simply turned her head away.
Nothing else was said until they reached the lobby where Miranda heard a not-so-distant rumble of a motorcycle. She clutched Don’s elbow. “I hope that’s not who I think it is. Wait here.”
“That asshole.”
She quickly eased to the building’s front entrance and peeked out the glass doors. “Crap. It’s him alright.”
“Did he see you?”
“Don’t think so,” she whispered. “He was looking inside my car.”
She bent down slightly and peeked again. “Damn it. He’s parking.” She turned to Don. “You have to get out of here.”
“Get rid of him,” he said, backing up. “I’ll meet you back here in a half-hour.” He hurried off toward the back of the building.
Miranda fluffed her hair, waited until she saw Mac’s shadow approaching and stepped outside. She raised her eyebrows and stopped abruptly. “Sweets,” she said trying to sound innocent as possible. “What are you doing here?”
Mac stopped abruptly. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“Me?” She tapped her bag. “I was looking for this.”
“Your purse?”
“Last night, after you left, I couldn’t find it,” she said. “Then I realized it was probably over here.”
Mac looked down the hallway toward the elevators. “Why would it be here?”
Miranda rolled her eyes. “It’s so embarrassing. When I was coming home from the store last night I had to use the bathroom real bad, but I don’t like that store. Since I had to drive right past here on my way home anyway. . .”
“You came here, forgot your purse and realized it this morning?”
She shrugged, “It’s dumb, but it made me nervous so I had to come get it.”
He wrinkled his brow. “But that was hours ago. You should have been back home by now.”
She sighed. “I know but there was an article in one of the magazines that I’d been wanting to read. I got into it, then I needed to rest my eyes for just a minute. You know what happened after that.”
/>
He smiled. “You fell to sleep on that leather couch?”
“Yeah,” She rubbed her neck. “If you want to call it sleep.”
Mac grunted. “I know what you mean. I only got a couple hours myself. Why don’t we go back to your place and get caught up?”
She shook her head. “We’d just get distracted and I’m too tired.”
“Just to sleep.” He held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“No. I told you I have other things I need to do.”
Mac gently grabbed her shoulders. “What’s going on? You’ve never been like this.”
She glanced away. “I don’t have to explain anything to you.”
“I know that, but we both need some sleep and your place is close by. Let’s go there for a few hours.”
“I said no.”
“How about tonight, after Rachel goes to sleep? I can slip her a pill and sneak over around midnight for a few hours.”
She exhaled. “You’re not listening to me. I said no and I meant it. I need a break and I don’t want to see you again until tomorrow morning.”
Mac’s shoulders slumped and he stepped backwards. “Okay. I get it. You don’t want me around.” He threw his hands up. “If that’s what you want, that’s the way it’ll be.” He turned and walked off.
“Things will be better in the morning,” she insisted to his back. “I’ll make it worth your while.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I love you. Please don’t be mad.”
Tears tracked down her cheeks as Mac drove off. A swishing sound came from behind her as the doors opened and Don rejoined her. “How’d it go?”
Startled, Miranda sniffled and turned away. “Oh, hi. I chased him off.”
Don turned her to the side. “You’re crying.”
“Me? No. I’m just real tired. That’s all.”
“Bullshit. It’s obvious that you love him. That’s why we have to rip his heart out. Let him see how it feels.”
She covered her ears and ran toward her SUV.
Chapter Fifty
Stump and Richard started out lifting weights in between shots of vodka, with Stump choking down the first shot and an extra two as they finished off the bottle. They ended up with Stump puking all over the bathroom.
The next morning both of Richard’s parents went to work and Richard was able to get to school, leaving Stump alone to recover and clean up his mess. The smell of day-old vodka puke made him do it again. After that he buried his pulsating head in a pillow until noon when he went down by the riverbed and nursed and cursed both the hurricane in his gut and the earthquake between his ears.