Page 35 of Sharp Force
“I don’t mind hanging out for a little bit.” Marino doesn’t want to go home.
He’s afraid to deal with my sister. When she takes umbrage at some perceived infraction, she doesn’t get over it easily or without penalty. Especially when she’s drinking. And considering the season, Dorothy will be spoiling for a fight. When she gets the vapors, as she describes it, nothing clears them out like a knockdown drag-out.
“Nice of you but not necessary,” I tell Marino. “I hope Dorothy’s doing all right,” I add pointedly, because that’s who he should be most concerned about.
“I’ve not heard from her for a while. She’s not answering. Probably busy talking to Janet,” he adds with resentment. “I already knowwhat to expect when I get home. Dorothy will be throwing back wine in front of the TV, griping to Janet about me. Implying something bogus and unfair about my relationship with you.”
“Staying here with me until Benton comes home won’t make things any better, Marino.”
“No kidding,” he says, chewing gum, his face unhappy. “I’m sorry about the spa package, Doc.”
We’ve reached the guest cottage where Lucy lives, indistinct in deep shadows. Blackout shades block any light inside, and I can’t tell when she’s home. But she isn’t now and won’t be tonight. I can’t believe we’re not spending Christmas Eve together.
“I didn’t mean to cause a stink. Especially when you’re about to skip town,” Marino adds as I notice animal tracks just ahead.
Then there are more of them pockmarking the snow in a decided direction that trails off into dense trees swallowed by darkness. Possibly a fox. Maybe a coyote. Our fence doesn’t keep out all animals. I’ve seen a fox climb it more than once, and I know that bears can. Raccoons dig under it.
“I was thinking about you flying across the pond and having jet lag, and that the spa might be just the ticket,” Marino goes on. “I thought you should be pampered.”
“Best you don’t put it like that to my sister.” I’m blunt about it. “In her mind, the only person you should be pampering is her.”
Around a bend in the driveway, floodlights shine on the white brick carriage house that’s now a garage. The double wooden doors open manually the same way they did more than a century ago. As we drive past, I notice eyes reflecting yellow in our headlights up ahead.
“What the hell?” Marino slows down.
A raccoon quickly waddles off the driveway, something notquite right with one of his legs. Before I can get a better look, he’s gone in the fog.
“Let’s hope he’s not rabid.” Marino drives on.
“He didn’t look rabid. He looked injured.” My heart sinks as I think about the likelihood of getting Mount Vernon Animal Rescue or anyone else out here during Christmas.
“And what does rabid look like?” Marino asks. “We can’t tell at a glance if he’s rabid.”
“Whatever he is, I hope Merlin is inside Lucy’s cottage or the main house.” I’m keeping my eye out for him. “I hate that he wanders about, especially after dark.”
Merlin was feral when Lucy rescued him as a kitten. Accustomed to living in the wild, he goes ballistic if kept inside against his will. She installed small doors that allow him to come and go as he pleases. It’s not safe on a property teeming with wildlife, some of it nocturnal.
We stop in front of the house, two-story white brick with dusky blue shutters, the slate roof piled in snow. Candles in the windows and other lights on timers glow warmly, a fresh holly wreath on the front door like a greeting card.
“Thank you for going with me to the O’Learys’. And for driving.” I unbuckle my shoulder harness.
“You sure you don’t want me to come in for a while, Doc? I really don’t mind.” Fishing the gum out of his mouth, he flicks it into the trash bag.
“As soon as I’m inside, I’ll set the alarm. No need to worry,” I reply. “If my sister is still awake, alert and in the mood, tell her to call. I’m sorry the two of you can’t be with us tonight.”
“Yeah, me too, Doc.” He sounds frustrated. “But now that you know what’s going on with Dorothy, it might be for the best.”
“Benton and I will stop by to see you on our way to the airport tomorrow afternoon. We have a little something for you two that we think you’ll like.”
“I’m sure you’re looking forward to getting the hell out of here for a while.” Marino can’t disguise how he feels about it.
He hasn’t said as much but I know he doesn’t want me leaving the country for two weeks. He doesn’t like me going anywhere at all. I sense him watching as I push open my door, stepping down into snow that buries my suede ankle boots, cold seeping inside them.
“Merry Christmas, Marino.” I shut the door, and his window lowers.
“You too, Doc.” His face looks reluctant. “I really don’t like leaving you here alone,” he again says, and I think of the irony.
He doesn’t mind leaving Dorothy alone. Janet’s comments about his feelings toward me aren’t baseless, and my sister knows it.
