He seemed to calm down, but clearly he was still seething. "There damn well better not be."
"There isn't. I know you love me, and that's why you're angry. I'm very flattered." She knew she should quit while she was ahead, but she hated him so much, she couldn't resist lighting his short fuse again. She said, "I don't want you thinking about what Keith and I did for six years."
He looked at her but said nothing.
She added, "We were just young high school and college kids, and we just did what everyone was doing then. You should be happy I only did it with him and not..."
"Shut up!"
"Sorry."
"Shut up."
She hung her head and stared at her plate trying to suppress a smile.
A minute went by, then Cliff said, "I don't want you talking to him or about him."
"I won't."
"Has he called you?"
She shook her head. "Why would he?.."
"You tried to call him?"
"Not in a million years."
"Yeah? So you two ain't spoken since he's been back?"
Again, she made a decision, got up, and stood behind his chair. She said, "Cliff, I can't lie to you... I ran into him on the street."
He didn't say anything.
She continued, "I was with Charlene Helms, old Mrs. Whitney, and Pastor Schenk's wife, Marge. I just left the post office and ran into him. I didn't even recognize him, and when he started talking, I didn't even know who it was. You know, when people think you know who they are, and they start jabbering. It happens to you all the time. Then I realized who it was, and I just said, 'You have a nice day, Mr. Landry.' Then I walked off with the girls."
She kept her hands on his shoulders and, though she couldn't see his face, she could feel his muscles tense up. She added, "It really slipped my mind, Cliff, and when I remembered to mention it to you, you weren't around. I knew you might get angry, but I thought you should know I ran into him. But I guess I was a little scared to mention it, so maybe I buried it in my mind. I figured he was just visiting, and that was the end of it." She said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'll never speak to him again. I swear."
He sat motionless for a full minute, then said, "You won't be able to."
She felt her heart skip a beat and couldn't speak. Finally, she knew she had to say something, but she couldn't ask the obvious question. She said, "I won't."
"You can't, you won't. I ran the son-of-a-bitch out of town."
"Oh..."
He stood and faced her, and he smiled. "I stopped by his place this morning. That surprise you?"
"No."
"I told him to get the fuck out of town. He said he'd be gone in a week."
"A week?.."
"Yeah. He's a fucking pussy, if you care to know."
"I don't care."
"He fucking begged me to let him stay a few more days. I gave him six days. I also gave him a shot in the gut, and he folded like a leaf. You shoulda seen that. He just went down like a log and laid there while I poured shit all over him. He wouldn't even defend himself. Hell, I offered to take off my gun and badge if he wanted to duke it out, but he was so scared he nearly pissed his pants. I can't believe you went out with this pussy."
Annie bit her lip to keep it from trembling, but a tear ran down her cheek.
"Hey, you crying?"
"No..." She wiped her face. "I'm just upset... that you had to do that."
"Upset? What the fuck is upset? You pissed at me?"
"No."
"Jesus Christ, I don't get you. You cryin' because I decked him?"
"No. Women get upset when their husbands do something dangerous."
"Dangerous? That fucking guy is not dangerous... well, I suppose he could have been. I didn't know when I went out there what to expect. But I knew I had to settle this thing, man-to-man."
"Please promise me you won't go out there again."
"I'm goin' out there to make sure he listened."
"Don't. Send someone else."
He pinched her cheek. "Don't worry about it. The guy must've lost his balls in 'Nam. Lucky you didn't marry him."
"He never asked."
"What the fuck do I care?"
She reached out and took a plate from the table. "I'll clean up here."
"Later. You go on upstairs." He added, "I'll be right up. You be ready."
"Cliff."
"Yeah?"
She wanted to say to him, "I fucked Keith last night, and I don't want you near me." She wanted to say that more than she wanted to plunge the carving knife in his heart. "Cliff... I..."
"Yeah? Got a headache? Upset? Havin' your period? What's your problem?"
"Nothing."
She walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway. She wanted to run out the front door, but she wouldn't get far. She wanted to scream, to go upstairs and cut her wrists, to drop a lamp on his head when he came up, to set the house on fire, to do anything except have sex with Cliff Baxter.
She steadied herself on the banister and tried to think clearly. The only thing she could do was to pretend that everything was all right. She did that easily enough when she spoke to him, but in bed she could never pretend. He didn't seem to care or notice as long as she submitted. But this time she couldn't do even that. She came back into the kitchen.
He was at the table, finishing his beer and looking at the newspaper. He glanced up at her. "Yeah?"
"I'd like a drink."
He laughed. "Yeah? Why? You can't fuck me sober?"
"Sometimes a drink helps get me in the mood."
"Then have a bunch of drinks. God knows you ain't been in the mood for some time now."
She went to the cupboard, took down a bottle of peach brandy, got a glass, and walked toward the hallway.
Cliff glanced at her over his newspaper and said, "Get yourself in the mood for some things you ain't done in a while, darlin'."
She went into the hallway, up the stairs, and into their bedroom. She poured a tumbler full of brandy, closed her eyes, and drank it. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She poured another, drank half of it, and sat on the bed and cried.
She barely remembered taking off her clothes, but remembered when he came into the room. After that, she remembered nothing.
Chapter Twenty
The phone rang at the Landry farm at twenty minutes past eight on Saturday morning. Keith was in the kitchen making coffee, and he answered it. "Hello."
"Keith, I have to speak to you."
He shut off the coffeepot. "Are you all right?"
"Yes. I'm at a pay phone in town. Can you meet me someplace?"
"Of course. Where?"
"I thought maybe the fairgrounds. There'll be no one there today."
"Then we don't belong there. Listen, you remember Reeves Pond, south of my place?"
"Where we used to skate."
"Yes. Get some bread or something and go feed the ducks. I'll be there in twenty minutes. Is everything okay?"
"Yes. No." She said, "You have a rifle. I saw it..."
"Yes, okay. Are you safe now?"
"Yes, I'm all right. I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you. He's suspicious..."
"Twenty minutes." He added, "If you've been followed, go feed the ducks anyway, but leave your car door open as a signal. Understand?"
"Yes."
"Take it easy." He hung up, went upstairs, and opened the wardrobe. He found his binoculars, then took two full magazines and put one in his pocket. The other he slammed into his M-16 rifle, pulled back on the charging handle, and chambered a round.
He slung the rifle and the binoculars, went downstairs and out the front door. He crossed the road and ran to the Jenkins barn.
Within five minutes, he'd saddled and mounted the mare, gave her a slap, and rode her out through the open paddock gate, across the road, and into the woods.
He ducked as the mare picked her way through the trees and down the slope toward the shallow streambed. He reined her around, and they headed south downstream, toward the pond.