“When did we become these people?” I asked.
She gazed at me with what could only be devotion, stroked the dark hair in the center of my chest and whispered, “Go to sleep, my love.”
And when I did, Bernard was waiting for me.
CHAPTER 4
The shrieking whistle from the morning train slithering through the back of town awakened me with a start, as it did most Sundays. Only a few dozen yards from our apartment, the tracks squealed as the first train of the week transporting garbage from Cape Cod made its usual pass between seven and eight o’clock, giving the whistle a precautionary blow as it moved parallel to the street. It rumbled by, throttling the entire apartment in the process. Glassware and place settings rattled behind cupboard doors, and as I rolled from bed and planted my feet against the floor, I found it impossible to hide my amusement. The fact that most of the trains along this particular route only transported trash seemed darkly apropos. Even things generally associated with romance and intrigue were reduced to inelegant terms when crossing my path, as if indicative of the dismal nightmares haunting me.
The pizza place downstairs didn’t open for another couple hours, so none of the smells that normally invaded the apartment (no matter what we did to try and cover them) had seeped up through the floor yet. I sat there groggily for a moment, noticed it was still overcast and cloudy but the rain had stopped and the apartment was quiet. I looked back over my shoulder, the bed was empty, Toni’s spot a clump of wrinkled sheets.
Apparently, I’d slept through the night without incident, but I still felt worn out, as if perhaps I’d spent the night doing something else. Like lugging cement blocks. Or digging ditches.
The phone rang just as I made my way out of the bathroom, and Toni arrived holding the cordless a moment later. “It’s Nino,” she said, rolling her eyes.
I took the handset and sat on the bed. “Nino, what’s up?”
“Al,” my supervisor’s harried voice answered, “listen, man, I got a scheduling problem, need some help.”
In all the years I’d worked for Battalia Security, Nino Battalia, the owner’s brother and my direct supervisor, never called me at home for any other reason. “OK.” I sighed, glanced at Toni, who stood at the foot of the bed, hands on hips and head cocked. “I’m listening.”
“Craig called in sick, he won’t be in tonight.”
“The new kid?”
“Yeah, you know how these newbies can be. Says he’s sick—got a flu or some shit—I don’t give a rat’s ass what he got, you see what I’m saying? But the thing is, he’s covering Bantam Motors. I can’t piss them off, Al, that’s a nice account.”
I recognized the name as a car dealership in the south end of New Bedford, only blocks from where Bernard had killed himself. “First of all, that’s not the greatest neighborhood,” I said. “Second, that’s a nightshift gig.”
“Yes to both, but—”
“Come on, Nino. Jesus, I don’t do nights anymore, and I don’t do shit details. I’m senior guy. Besides, I just woke up. I would’ve stayed up and slept this afternoon if I knew you needed me tonight. I spend Sundays with my wife, dump it on somebody else.”
I could hear a big glass of Alka-Seltzer fizzing; Nino drank it like most people drank Pepsi. “Al, you think I called you first? I hit everybody on the roster, man, can’t nobody fill the shift. You’re the only one I ever been able to count on. You know that. Just cover this shift for me and you can take Monday off. I’ll toss a couple bucks extra in your check this week too, OK?”
“How much?”
“How’s twenty sound?”
“Like it’s not enough. Fifty, and I want cash.”
“Forty.”
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll do it. Is this armed?”
“Nope, leave the piece home. Strictly stick on this one.”
“Good. You on tonight?”
“Yeah I’m working dispatch. I won’t be around on supervisor rounds though, so youse can all relax.” Nino gave a hearty laugh, which was interrupted by gulping sounds as he downed the Alka-Seltzer. “You need directions?”
“Nah, I know where it is. Report time?”
“In at eleven, out by seven.”
“Am I sitting in my car all night or what?”
“Nope, inside. They got a nice desk for you and everything.”
Toni crouched before me and rubbed my thigh. With the heat in my groin rising, I said, “OK. I’ll radio in tonight when I get settled.”
Her hand slipped beneath my underwear, and her fingers curled around my scrotum.
Nino was still babbling, thanking me when I hung up and tossed the phone aside. Toni already had my briefs down around my ankles. I watched her pull them off entirely, and spread my legs wider as my erection grew, reaching for her. One hand moved from the back of my calf to the inside of my thigh, the other gripped and slid me into her mouth. I moaned and held her head as I pumped slowly, timing my subtle thrusts with her motion.
I stroked her hair and leaned forward, draping myself over her and pumping harder as she increased the pressure and tightened her lips. “Jesus,” I gasped, but the words caught in my throat as she released me, still kneeling and just visible over the edge of the bed.
She laughed in a way that struck me as nearly dutiful, then flopped next to me on the bed, the mattress bouncing. My heart racing, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her over on top of me, but she pushed away and stood up.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said, straightening her pajamas.
I reached for my underwear and pulled them on over my dying erection. “This is fucking ridiculous, what is the problem?”
Toni shook her head. “It’s never enough for you, is it.”
“Never enough? Are you serious? When was the last time we made love?”
“That was your dick in my mouth just now, wasn’t it?”
We stood staring at each other for what seemed a long time. “You know what I mean.”
She arched an eyebrow, folded her arms across her chest. “Do I?”
“Well if you don’t then we really are in a world of shit, Toni.”
“Is this where I’m supposed to pretend to have some clue as to what the hell you’re talking about?”
“We don’t make love anymore,” I said, glaring at her now. “You take care of me, service me the way a hooker services a john, for Christ’s sake. No passion, nothing real or heartfelt, just efficient, emotionless and robotic sexual acts.”
“A hooker—that’s a nice thing to say to me.” Her lips trembled. “Asshole.”
“Look, I’m sorry.” I reached out and put my hands around her waist. She felt so small, so easily breakable. “It’s just—I don’t understand what’s happening to us.”
“Neither do I.”
“It’s like everything’s broken, all confused and doesn’t make sense anymore.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic.”
The heat that had risen within me was gone, leaving behind a void, a feeling of nothingness. “You act like it doesn’t matter,” I said.
She looked away and mumbled something, but the phone rang, interrupting us again.
I snatched it from the bed angrily. “What?”
“Hey man, it’s me, Rick.”
“Let me call you back.”
“We need to talk. There’s some weird shit going on.”
“Fucking now what?”
“We were wrong about Bernard,” he said, his tone nervous. “He did leave a note.”