Part Four - Any given force is but one aspect of a mutual interaction between two bodies.
Grace took the Merrit Parkway straight
to I-95 and ended up in Milford around two A.M.. The two hour trip allowed
her excitement to build and her mind wandered to what Dana might be wlling
to try, but for Dana, the time built a dread from insecurities so deep that
by the time they hit New Haven, she was ready to toss her cookies.
"Maybe you should drop me at the marina," Dana suggested as they
neared exit 60.
"I'm not dropping you anywhere. You said we could talk, and that's
what we are going to do."
Dana was silent.
Grace thought about her words and decided she was being selfish. She was
used to being forceful in her work and most other aspects of her life, you
don't get to be a doctor any other way. "If you want to be alone, I
can respect that, but you should get your things and your dog."
"She's not my dog. I don't own her."
"Fine, we will go to my place, you can grab your belongings and the
dog that you travel with, and I will bring you back to the marina."
Dana knew she had dissappointed her friend, but she was so consumed with
fear, she did not care.
They pulled into the gravel driveway, the crescent moon was in mid sky and
ocean waves pounded the sand behind the house. Grace removed her glasses
and slid them into the visor above her head. She turned to face Dana and
grinned. "Let's go get your stuff," she said lightly and touched
the taut thigh. She had seen the distant look in her friend's eyes, the
meaning of the deep long silence had hit her about halfway home. This woman
was not ready for anything, and she really should take a breather herself,
Beth was only one day in her past. She should never have kissed Rachel,
but she was feeling so good, so relieved, and Rachel was funny and cute
and forward.
Grace sauntered towards the front door, putting her car keys into her coat
pocket as she proceeded up the flagstone walkway. She heard the pounding
of feet on grass, an umph, and then stirring of gravel. What she saw was
Beth, in black jeans and a dark sweatshirt kneeling on Dana's back. Beth
pulled the long arms behind her prisoner, forcing Dana's face into the cutting
gravel. Grace ran over to the two women .
"Grace, get in the house," Dana screamed into the gravel. Her
head was pounding from a blow, and the right side of her face was aching
from the hard pressure of the rocks. She felt like her eye was going to
implode as a stone tried to leave its impression.
Beth yanked hard and Dana felt her right shoulder leave its socket.
"I want to know who the fuck you are?" Beth hissed. She smelled
of whiskey, a cheap well brand.
"I'm Bat Girl," Dana mumbled into the rocks.
Beth twisted Dana's wrist to look at the tattoo on the hand. "You're
a piece of shit, is what you are. Judging from your id number and your age
I would say you've been a shithead your whole life. You're a nobody, you're
scum, and you shouldn't be walking around breathing my air or messing with
my girlfriend."
"Ex- girlfriend," Doc managed with a strain. Another yank and
out popped the other shoulder. She heard herself scream as the muscles spasmed
and refused to release. My god, if childbirth felt like this, I am never
having kids, Doc thought.
"Beth, stop it!" Grace screamed as she charged the larger woman,
and using her powerful legs threw her whole body into Beth knocking her
sideways and off the downed woman. Beth had not removed her hold and the
jolt tore at Danas arms. The nausea that was building in the pit of her
stomach let loose and beer burned its way up her throat into her mouth.
She spat the hot liquid into the rocks.
Grace and Beth were on their feet now, exchanging kicks and punches. Grace's
eyes burned with tears of hot anger which Beth took advantage of, and when
she was wiping her eyes, she lunged forward and knocked her to the ground.
She stradled Grace with her hips and pinned her hands beside her head.
"You like bad girls now, Grace?" She squeezed her wrists hard.
Grace struggled and cried against the pain.
"Beth, stop it!" she begged.
Dana watched Grace fighting as she struggled against her own pain. Even
breathing sent her muscles into tighter spasms and new waves of heat and
nausea. When she heard Grace cry out in pain, and she could not do anything,
she wanted to die. One last time she tried to roll to her feet, but darkness
enveloped her as she passed out from the torture.
Rip had been waiting for this moment all day as she sat crouched beneath
a Yew, hidden from her prey. The wild turkey she had been stalking all day
was finally settling down for sleep in a small stand of trees. She crept
within pouncing distance and waited. Then when they bird's eyes finally
closed, she leaped, paws first, landing on the bird's back, the weight of
her powerful shoulders applying the crushing force that broke the bird's
neck and caused the bird's last gobble to be a scream of agony.
She grabbed the limp prize delicately with her mouth, rearranged the feathers
that tickled the roof of her mouth once, and began her trek down the road.
Her tail was at full attention and curled to her back like a soldier's dress
plume. She proudly displayed the turkey against her chest. As she bounded
the corner at an easy ceremonial trot she heard the scream of her travel
mate and her travel mate's new friend in the distance. The bird fell from
her mouth, forgotten as she charged into battle.
Her dog tags pounded against the powerful chest as her equally powerful
legs swiftly carried her to the battlefield. Beth looked up just in time
to see the white bared fangs flying at her and connect with her shoulder.
The teeth tore deeply into her flesh and held as Beth reeled out of the
way screaming. The dog tried to shake the large woman like a rat, tearing
the punctures.
Meanwhile, Grace scrambled to her feet, and watched as Beth curled her head
into her body to protect her face and ears from the attack. The dog was
grunting and growling as she attacked. No mercy, she thought, no mercy,
and another bite, this time closer to the neck. Protect, Protect.
Grace reached in and grasped the dog's harness to pull her away from a bloodied
Beth. "Easy girl easy," she soothed as the dog lunged and barked
at her ex-girlfriend. Given the opening, Beth scrambled away holding her
shoulder.
"Get the fuck out of here Beth," Grace yelled angrily. "Or
I swear, I'll let her eat you alive." The dog growled menacingly on
cue.
"You're such a bitch," Beth cried and then walked determinedly
back to the main road where she had left her car before staking out the
cottage.
Grace led the dog by the harness into the house and closed her inside. Rip
watched from the window, her dirty feet planted on the couch cushions, viewing
the blond woman as she returned to her shipmate.
Dana was lying face down in the rocks, both of her arms at odd angles behind
her shoulders, but her face was relaxed and emotionless. Grace used her
hands to feel the dislocation of one shoulder, and using her knees on the
woman's back yanked the arm side ways and slid the joint back into place.
When she heard the solid pop she moved to the other arm and repeated the
process. These muscles were tighter and it took three efforts before the
bones fit again snugly. She rolled the woman onto her back and saw the deep
jagged tear on her forehead and cheek and a deep purpling bruise already
forming on her cheek. She gently stroked the face of her friend and spoke
to her trying to bring her to consciousness.
Dana moved towards the warmth and soothing sounds as she slowly came to.
Her body ached and burned, and she was afraid to stir for fear of the sickening
pain.
"We need to get into the house," she heard Grace say. Grace watched
the eyes flicker open, then pale blue eyes, the color of Alaskan glaciers
staring back at her.
"I feel like shit," Dana mumbled through her dry mouth. She bolted
upright when she remembered how she had come to be in such bad shape. She
cringed form the pain, but realized it was bearable. "Beth?"
"She's gone."
"And you?" She reached to touch the blond woman's cheek
"Fine, I'm okay, really."
Dana removed her hand self-consciously as if it had gone there on its own
accord. "Boy, you were one bad ass. Where'd you learn that?"
"Kick Boxing 101, my freshman year."
"Three cheers for the Liberal Education System," Dana said trying
to get to her feet.
Grace smiled as she helped her to a standing position by wrapping her arms
around the larger woman's waist and lifting.
All the cushions had been dragged off the couch by the time they made it
to the house. As soon as they opened the door, Rip was out and in pursuit
of the bleeding cop.
"Oh no," Grace exclaimed, reaching for, but missing the dog's
harness.
Doc looked around the front room and nervously bit her lip.
"Holy crap! Look what that dog did to my furniture."
Dana began to pick up the cushions with her aching arms and set them straight.
Grace joined her . "There's slobber on everything. And blood too,"
Grace observed aloud.
"Well fuck, I'm really pissed now. Next time I see Beth I am gonna,
gonna."
"Let it go."
"What if she comes back?"
"I won't be here, and she wanted me." She placed the last cushion
on the couch.
Grace covered her face and sat down. "I have had some messy breakups,
but this one takes the cake."
Dana was bending over picking up shredded newspapers from the floor. "That's
what you get for liking bad girls." Doc said as she placed a hand in
passing on her shoulder.
"Where are you going?"
"To take a hot shower." She twisted her neck until she heard a
solid pop. "My back is killing me."
"Can I help?"
"Grace I . . ."
"Actually, I meant with a back rub that kind of thing, not the shower.
Geez, you must think I'm a total floozy."
"You are a flirt, but too smart to be a floozy," Dana stated.
"And you're playing hard to get."
"I'm not playing," Doc said seriously.
"Maybe you should play."
Dana's retort was shut down by the sudden tightness in her throat as she
looked the woman's body over from toes to nose. She had been thinking about
her for the past month, dreaming of that body, and wondering what it would
be like to become familiar with it.
Grace began to laugh, "Go take your shower," she said gently nudging
her in the right direction.
The doctor poured herself a straight vodka with a twist of lime and sipped
it as she listened to WHCN the Classic Rock Station. Bob Seger was singing
about his gawky teenage years for the hundredth billionth time. Grace thought
about those years. Hers weren't so gawky, they were pretty exciting, and
she, wow, was she sexual.
Doc eased herself down in the chair next to Grace, her hair damp and combed
back from her face, a white sleeveless T-shirt and blue cotton shorts covering
her. She had found the Band-Aids and had applied a few to the cuts on her
face.
"You should put ice on that," Grace said pointing to her cheek
and then getting up for the freezer.
Dana caught her arm, wincing at the pain the movement caused. "You
go take a shower. I'll take care of the ice."
While Grace was bathing, Doc was medicating herself with three Ibuprofen
and a couple of Tylenol. Using the sink sponge and some liquid laundry soap,
she scrubbed the couch cushions to remove the dirt, blood, and slobber.
She could not do much with the puncture marks and flipped the cushions over
to hide the worst tares. She had scrubbed them, and removed most of the
stains when she heard the familiar bark of her friend approaching.
Grace was finally re-emerging from her bath, dressed in a short blue terry
robe.
"Guess who's home?" Doc said as she opened the door. In walked
the regal beast with a dead turkey. With what seemed like a flourish to
Grace, the dog dropped the dead bird at Dana's feet. A stray feather floated
up and then drifted down to the carpet in the middle of the room.
"Don't give it to me, you silly mutt, you didn't rip up my couch cushions."
"There's a dead bird on my three thousand dollar rug."
"Yes, I do believe it is dead, " Doc said as she picked up the
carcass. She handed it to the doctor by the feet. "Want to give it
mouth to mouth?"
"Yuk, get that thing away from me," she squawked, waving her hands.
"You should have it for dinner tomorrow," Dana said. "Good
dog," she patted the hound on the head.
"Dana!"
"What?" She took the bird to the kitchen and began to pluck out
the feathers, dropping them in a paper sack. "I thought you were a
country girl."
"You don't know how long it has been dead."
Dana sniffed the carcass. "Two hours at the most. Think of it as like
eating an albatross. It tastes good with a little basil and red pepper."
"Albatross? Who the hell eats albatross?"
"Rip and I, when we run out of food and the fish aren't biting. It
beats eating out of garbage cans, doesn't it girl," she said to the
dog who was licking her chops watching the preparation. "Do you mind
feeding her?" Dana asked.
Grace dumped food into the dog's dish and poured water into the other bowl.
Dana could not help but notice how her robe fell open and revealed her breast,
or how the bottom rose up for a peak of her upper thighs.
It took her five minutes to pluck the bird, clean out the guts, and chop
up the parts most people do not know their food once had. She put the dead
bird in a bowl in the refrigerator and washed up the knife and cutting board.
"Do you have to work today?" she asked as she washed the counter
down.
"Work? What day is today?"
Doc looked at her watch, "3:45 a.m. Monday. We should get some sleep.
I'll take the couch again."
"No, the couch is wet. You come sleep in the bed."
"I . . . I," Dana stuttered.
"I think I can, I think I can," Grace teased. "Come on, be
brave," she said taking the strong calloused hand in her smaller softer
one.
As soon as they entered the room Grace removed her robe and slipped into
her pajamas. Dana had turned away, her face burning and heart pounding.
"Dana," she said seriously.
"Yeah," she answered into the wall.
"We are only going to sleep."
"Uh huh," she said without turning around.
"So come lie down."
"Do you have clothes on?"
"Yes, Dear," she replied slipping under the covers.
Dana breathed a sigh of relief and disappointment. She approached and then
climbed onto the bed on top of the covers.
"I hate that," Grace grumbled, yanking the quilt over herself.
"I can't move when you do that. Now get underneath."
Doc pulled her knees up and slipped her legs under the sheets. She was lying
on her back, it hurt to much to sleep on her side, comtemplating whether
or not Grace expected her to kiss her. Grace rolled over to look at her
and immediately noticed the fact that Dana was barely breathing.
"You aren't just nervous, you're really scared," she observed
quietly.
"I cannot remember ever being in the same bed with another person."
"Not even as a kid, when you had a bad dream or thought you heard something
go bump in the night?"
"Nope."
That made Grace kind of sad, and she did not know what to say, so she laid
on her back and stared at the ceiling too. "What did you do when you
were scared, I mean as a kid?"
"Nothing."
Silence. "What would you have liked to do?"
Silence. Dana could not answer, but turned her head to look at the green
eyes staring back at her. Grace gently touched her arm causing Dana to jump,
but Grace did not pull her hand away. She felt the trembling in the other
body, much like the first evening when they met, and watched the ice blue
eyes watch her with alarm. "Go to sleep," she whispered to her
friend as she let the exhaustion pull her into her own deep sleep.
It took Dana a little longer before she could relax and drift off, and for
a few hours it was fitful. When Grace stumbled out of bed to get ready for
work, Dana finally fell into a deep sleep. She would have tried to get up
with Grace and have her drop her at the marina, but she was too sore to
move.
It was almost noontime, Grace was eating
lunch in the cafeteria of the Yale-New Haven Medical Center, when Beth approached
her. She had her arm in a sling and dark circles around her eyes. Grace
put her forkful of pasta salad down unable to believe that the Milford cop
had the nerve to approach her. Beth held her good hand out offering peace.
"I only want to talk to you, I swear."
"I have nothing to say to you."
"I'm sorry about what happened last night." She was on the verge
of tears. She went down on her knees next to the peeved doctor. "I've
never done anything like that before, Gracie." The tears started to
flow.
All she needed was a scene like this in front of her coworkers and patients.
"Let's go for a walk." Grace said to remove them from the eyes
that were beginning to pry. They sat on a park bench outside in the grassy
municipal area across from the Emergency Room entrance of the hospital.
Beth had used the time walking together to recomposed herself.
"How is your shoulder?" Grace asked.
"I'm out of work for a few days."
"Pity."
"You're right. I deserved it." She shifted to look at Grace. "It
will give me time to get control of myself."
"That's a good idea, because you were acting crazy last night. You
really scared me."
"I would never hurt you, Gracie," she said fidgeting with her
hands. "I was worried about you, hanging out with someone like that,
and when you didn't come home, I thought maybe something terrible had happened.
I mean, that woman is a murderer. I thought maybe she was the one . . .
being around at the same time as the woman was killed and all."
"She's not the killer."
"How do you know that, Gracie?"
"Because I was with her the night of the murder."
Oooh, that stung. Beth reigned in her hurt and angry jealousy. "All
night?" she managed to get out.
"Pretty much."
"Well, still, I did some research on your friend today," she pulled
out a disk and handed it to her, "based on her id number. She is a
real piece of work, and she's sick Grace." SHe let her words sink in.
"I'm begging you, stay away from her."
"Beth, if this is some kind of ploy."
Beth brought out her trump card from her brown leather coat pocket. It was
a small computer CD-ROM in a plastic case. She held it out towards Grace
between her index and middle finger "Look at this disk, you should
know who you have been sleeping with."
Grace refused to take it even though she was intrigued. Dana was such a
mystery, but she hoped to unravel those secrets through Dana, not some impersonal
data file.
"We are not sleeping together," Grace said knowing that it hurt
Beth to think she was with anyone else. It was not Beth's fault that she
did not love her or that the relationship had not worked, and hurting anyone
outright was not Grace's goal. "What about the bloody clothes, did
you get a hit on that yet? Maybe that can rule out your fear that I am hanging
around with a killer."
"I wish I could rule that out, but we have not received the results.
They do know that the DNA frm the trash bag is an exact match to some skin
they recovered from under the dead woman's fingernails. We are hoping for
the Feds to get lucky and match it to one of their records. If there is
one we should know any day now." Grace did not hear the last part of
her statement.
"And if it is your new friend, we will know for sure. As long as she
has been in the system, they must have her in the FBI Genetic Index."
"Are you saying the blood matched some skin found on the woman's body?"
Beth absorbed Grace's body language as well as her words. The strawberry
blond was shocked by that for some reason.
"That's exactly what I'm saying, why?"
"No reason," Grace tried to recover. "What time did the girl
die?"
Beth saw the doubt, and smiled inwardly. "The radiation and base forensic
analysis point to an attack and quick death around eleven-thirty, give or
take a half an hour.
"Eleven-thirty," Grace repeated as she thought aloud. She was
becoming confused about that night. What time had she left the bar?
Beth began slowly, scooting a little closer to the bewildered doctor. "Gracie,
if you think there is any chance that she could be the killer, tell me.
I will protect you."
"I have to get back to work," Grace suddenly stood and walked
away.
Beth jogged after her. "Please take this, Grace," she held out
the disc. Grace took the case and shoved it into her white lab coat. "Is
she still at your place?" Beth asked as they approached the street
to cross.
"Yes, " Grace replied absently as she wove between the few cars,
more on her mind than avoiding being struck by a Beamer.
Beth smiled as she watched the petite figure move across the asphalt and
disappear into the hospital.
Grace had to wait until late afternoon to visit the desktop unit in the
doctor's lounge. A bus carrying a group of Senior Citizen's had been hit
by a station wagon full of high school kids. It was the worst thing she
could have had to deal with medically.
The disc that Beth had given her contained Dana Papadopolis' life from the
abandonment by her mother, the suicide of her father, and the official report
by the Connecticut Child Care Agency of Ruth Cannata's refusal to take her
daughter in after Dimitri Papadopolis' death. The murder one conviction
and all the killings in York penitentiary were described in detail. It also
included the reports from the sporadic sessions with the prison psychologist
who labeled Dana as a manic depressive psychotic after a single meeting.
It was noted on several occasions she had become violent when administered
medication for said mental infliction. Each murder was accompanied by a
scene of the body, the method of murder, and the subsequent psychiatric
evaluations and punishments. Then she saw something that shocked her, the
name Ruel Gundy jumped out at her, in a bloody description of a triple murder,
one of the victim a prison guard. She barely noted the brief description
of Dana's own injuries and brief stay at Yale. In 2016 Dana was paroled
under the seldom used Kennedy Bill, and that was the end of the record.
Grace was shaking by the time she finished with the records. Dana had not
told her of all the other killings, and Gundy was the person Rachel mentioned.
For Grace to say she did not have her doubts about Dana would be lying to
herself. But Rachel had a certain affinity for the convict, and she seemed
a good judge of character, right? Shit, she was thinking a convicted drug
dealer was a good judge of character. And that manic depressive psychotic
thing? Dana did not seem to be that, and she would have known if she was
medicating to control it. Dana was reserved, quiet, maybe had a tendency
to resort to violence when pushed, although she had not struck anyone, not
even Beth once.
And Beth was, of course, always capable of a good mind fuck, she had done
it before. Maybe that was what was going on here.
Grace entered the house silently, her heart pounding against her chest.
Doc was sitting at the table answering her e-mail when she opened the door.
The smell of tomatoes and basil filled the house.
"Hi," Doc said with a half smile as the tired stressed out woman
approached. "You didn't call, so I figured it would be okay if I made
spaghetti for dinner. I did not think you wanted the turkey so Rip and I
had it for lunch."
Grace went into her room without saying a word and put her black doctor's
bag away in the closet. Then she walked over to the dining table and tossed
the disc case at the dark haired woman.
"What's this?" she asked wincing as she reached to pick up the
disc.
"It's you life story," she said coldly.
The warm fuzzy feeling that Doc had experienced immediately when the little
blond walked through the door vanished. "Where did you get it?"
Grace stood in the middle of the room her arms crossed woven across her
chest. "Does that matter?"
"Sweet Beth, I bet. Well, well, well. Now you know all about me. Isn't
that quaint." She opened the box and inserted the disc into her drive.
"I have never read it myself, it would be nice to know what everyone
else does." She feigned a coolness she did not feel. As she flipped
from one document to the next she felt her life click by, the life she had
tried to deny, or better put, lock away from her consciousness. This was
the way the world viewed her, now how Grace viewed her. There were no mentions
of the rapes by the guards her first year. No mentions of the rapes by the
inmates either because Dana would not go to the doctor unless she was sent
unconscious. Her eyes were dark when she looked up at Grace. The honeymoon
was over. She ejected the disc and tossed it back to the doctor.
"You want me to leave, right?" she stated more than asked, and
began shut down on her computer, then placed it in a bag.
"Beth told me the strangest thing today. Would you like to hear it?"
"No."
"The blood found on the shirt in the garbage can, your blood, is an
identical match to trace tissue found on the dead woman's body."
"W. . .What?" Doc stammered.
"So now they're running the mapping of both DNA samples through the
FBI database. Beth told me that if you were the one, they would know for
sure sometime today, isn't that ironic. You're a suspect, they have your
DNA, but the map won't match your DNA now, will it?"
Doc looked up at her, "I didn't kill that lady."
Angry tears were running silently down Grace's cheeks. "You tell me
how your DNA ended up under that woman's nails."
"I don't know!" Doc yelled as the walls of the cottage began to
close in on her. She knew exactly where this was leading, and it was a place
she dreaded going. She looked back down at her computer case and zipped
it. "If you want to ask me something, Grace just ask," she said
sarcastically feeling foolish for trusting, for forgetting that who she
was mattered to people.
Grace felt just as foolish and scared. "Where did you go before I picked
you up that night?"
Doc looked up with pale sad eyes. She stood without answering, Grace instinctively
backed away from her, and that made Doc feel like the most hideous creature
alive. She gathered her belongings in silence.
"If it was you, you can tell me. You can get help."
"If?" Doc whispered the word again. The hurt was so close to the
surface she wanted to scream and release it. "I did not kill that woman,"
she said quietly, more to herself than to Grace.
"I'm suppose to believe that, after reading about all of your blood
matches. God, Dana, you killed fourteen people. You never told me about
them."
"Come on, Grace, do you think it's something I'm proud of?" She
grabbed her clothes duffel and shoved a few stray garments into it.
"The doctors say you don't even feel remorse."
"That's because I don't," Dana growled. "I hated every one
of those fucking people."
She opened the front door and whistled for her shipmate. But by the time
her eyes left Grace and took in her surroundings it was too late. Rip was
locked away in a police cruiser, three white and blue cars lining the dirt
road. She took a quick glance back at Grace when she realized what Grace
had done. A second later she was thrown face down on the flagstone walkway,
her shoulders once more yanked and bound behind her back. Grace had seen
the look of utter desolation on the woman's face as she turned to her, and
knew then that she had made a mistake, no matter what the DNA said. She
ran to the doorway but was held back by Beth. "Dana!" she yelled
in panic.
Dana was yanked to her feet by her arms, her back and shoulders screaming
in pain. Doc looked into the steel gray eyes of Charlie, Beth's partner
and resisted the urge to spit. The last thing she saw was Grace staring
at her as she was dragged away like a rabid animal.
The day only grew worse because for the first time in three years, Doc found
herself back in a jail cell the, last place she ever wanted to be. And then
the old familiar feeling of despair sat beside her and wrapped its strong
arms tightly around her, so much stronger this time because she had had
the taste of freedom. Now she had nothing.
It was not until mid morning, Tuesday, before she was recuffed and dragged
from her cell to an interrogation room. She stared at the floor trying to
hide her fears somewhere deep in her mind.
Beth was standing in the corner of the room,in uniform, watching the interrogation
play out, as two detectives, her friends most likely, set to work on their
prisoner.
They grilled her about her activities before and after that Saturday night
that she met Grace and the woman lost her life. Dana refused to answer or
look at them. They wanted to know where she lived,and who her parol officer
was.
She could not understand why they did not
read her the Miranda, or charge her, or take a sample of her skin or blood.
Surely they would think to do that when Grace told them what she had done
to her DNA records. Surely they would . . . unless Grace believed her and
had not told them about the trip to New Jersey.
"Where is the dog?" Doc spoke for the first time, looking defiantly
at Beth.
"She's dead," Beth said cruelly.
Doc looked at the floor quickly, to hide her reaction. Never let the enemy
see your vulnerability. "I want to be charged, or set free."
The detectives shifted uncomfortably. The DNA match had turned up Dana Papadopolis
as having only a seventy five percent possibility of being the perpetrator.
"And if you are charging me, I want a lawyer here before you try ask
me another fucking question." She had learned a few things from the
fellow inmates about making mistakes with the cops.
One of the detectives looked over at Beth. Doc did not miss the subtle exchange.
The two men left the room leaving Doc and her new nemesis. Beth slithered
behind the hand cuffed woman and shoved the chair hard forcing Doc to give
her her attention. "I want you to be aware you are a suspect Papadopolis,
and I want you to remember that." Her face was inches away and her
breath stunk like cigarettes. "And I am watching you closely."
Doc barked at her making her jerk her head backwards. Doc half smiled. "Bite
me, Miss Piggy."
For that, Beth punched her in the mouth, and then laughed as Dana spat out
blood from her torn gums. She yanked Doc to her feet and out the room to
the desk sergeant. Both women were surprised to see Grace standing in the
lobby arguing about due process, about freedom of information, and all the
other legal half truths. Beth dragged Dana over to an unoccupied sergeant
and mumbled instructions about releasing Dana. The sergeant slid her an
envelope with her watch and cash, and her boat key, still on its hand woven
tether. Beth unlocked the cuffs and gave her a shove towards the outer sanctum.
"Anytime you want to confess, I will be here waiting."
Doc refused to look back at her and concentrated on Grace who had a look
of relief and trepidation. When she reached her, she stopped, breathed deeply
a few times, and looked back at Beth. She was so full of disbelief that
Grace might possibly still believe in her, that she did not care about what
had happened before. She was utterly speechless, afraid to ask if it was
true, if she did believe she was innocent. Acting on the urge to flee she
impetuously grabbed the smaller woman's hand and led her out of the brown
stone building as fast as she could walk.
"Where's your car?" she asked urgently.
"Over here," Grace pulled her in the opposite direction.
"They killed Rip," Dana said angrily as she spotted the Jeep and
pulled her to the car.
"No, Dana, I picked her up from the pound this morning. She's in the
Jeep." Surely enough, Dana could see the black figure sleeping in the
back as she approached. When she turned to Grace, Grace saw her eyes filling
with tears.
She wrapped her arms around Dana and pulled her closer. "Dana, I'm
so sorry. Please forgive me. I was so confused and scared, and when Beth
told me about the DNA match, I freaked out. But when I worked out when we
were together, I knew there was no way . . . and I know you could not do
that. The others were different, right, there was a reason you hated them?"
She was crying. "I'm so sorry."
Dana placed an awkward hand to the soft cheek to wipe away the falling tears.
A sympathetic smile took hold of her face as she tried to comfort and understand.
"If I had read something like that about you, I would have been freaked
out too. But that's not everything, Grace, and that's not my DNA on that
woman. I promise you."
Grace nodded.
Doc breathed in deeply and sighed heavily. "But I did kill those people
in York."
Grace nodded knowingly.
"I have done other things too, Grace, that I am ashamed of, that are
not in that report."
Grace swallowed and nodded again.
"It means everything in the world to me that you believe me."
Grace sniffled as she smiled. She squeezed hugged her hard, and then released
the ex-con. Then she sighed, missing the warmth and wrapped her arms around
herself as the wind whipped at them. Reaching up she wiped away the blood
from Dana's lips. "You're always getting beat up."
Dana's body ached as if it were one big sprain. "Did you bring my things?"
"No, they're at my place. I didn't know if I would even get to see
you." She unlocked the door for Dana. Dana climbed in gingerly.
"Grace, I think it would be best for you if I left." Dana spoke
calmly once Grace had climbed into the vehicle and closed the door.
Grace ignored Dana's remark. "Don't let Beth scare you into running
away from me. It's what she wants."
Dana sat back into the bucket seat. "I want to know how somebody as
nice as you ever hooked up with her."
"She pulled me over for speeding. I went to court to contest it, and
she was there to defend it." She started the engine. "They never
show for that either. God, I was so pissed, and she looked so smug as the
judge gave me a three hundred and fifty dollar ticket. Why I agreed to have
a drink with her, I will never know."
"Must have been the uniform, chicks like you like that."
Grace smiled and pulled out of the parking lot. "Shut up."
"How do you work with all those nurses with a fetish like that, Doctor?"
Grace blushed. "A fetish." She
chuckled. "You don't have a uniform."
It was Dana's chance to blush. "No, now you're into women with tattoos."
"Is that an offer?"
Silence. Dana should have learned by now, do not to flirt with this woman,
especially if she was not ready to pay the consequences. She turned to the
sleeping dog and patted her head. "Did they give her something."
"A tranquilizer to calm her down after she saw them taking you in,
she went ballistic. She tore up the back seat of the squad car. I guess
we are lucky they did no shoot her, but with animal rights laws now, we
lucked out. But don't worry, I called my sister, Joy, and she says she should
be up and about in a day or two. "
"You're sister?" She turned to Grace. "Oh right, the Dr.
Wilson the veterinarian. Thanks for taking care of her."
"After what she did to Beth the other night to save me, I would give
her my life. She's a great dog."
"You did well the other night too."
"Yeah, right ," she turned away from the road for a second to
look at her. "You look like you haven't slept in weeks."
"I had a little trouble with the cell last night."
"Missed being next to me?"
"I didn't sleep much that night either, I'm afraid."
"Oh," she said dejectedly. She had slept like a rock.
"You snore really loud."
"Is that why you couldn't sleep?" she asked hopefully.
"Yeah." It was partly true.
"Do you want to try it again, if I
sleep on my side?" Dana looked at her nervously. "We will take
this really slow, I promise," she added reassuringly.
"I can't stay at the house right now."
"Oh."
"I think we should both . . ."
"No we are in this together."
"This could ruin you, Grace."
"Just shut up and let me help. God, you always have to go it alone.
You're really starting to piss me off. I have already put in for two weeks
personal leave until we can get this mess straightened out. Okay?"
Dana's mouth hung open from shock. "I need to get away before your
psycho girlfriend makes me a parapalege."
"So, if you don't wan to stay at the house, were are we going to go?"
"I thought we could go sailing."
Grace knew this was a possibility, had hoped otherwise, but had entertained
the idea. She was of a generation where many were taught to fear the ocean,
witnesses to its awesome destructive powers. "Sailing it is,"
she said confidently. I have never been sailing, or on the ocean for that
matter, she thought nervously.
They were pulling onto her dirt road. Dana checked on Rip who was still breathing soundly. "Let's get you packed."
"What should I bring?" she asked as she tried her keypad to unlock
the door. She failed, as usual. Dana looked around the yard despite the
fact it was daylight.
Grace tried the door again but got a flashing error.
Dana rolled her eyes and punched in a series of numbers that clicked the
door open.
"Hey, thats not my code."
Dana opened the door and held it for her with a slight arm flourish and
a cocky grin. "I know."
"But how, don't tell me, something you learned in prison."
"Rachel."
"Rachel?"
"Yeah, Rachel wrote the program that all the nano chips in these devices
use. It's a back door she put into the language."
"Shit, I feel safe."
"You should never rely on a thing like this to feel safe," Doc
said seriously as she closed the door behind them.
"What makes you feel safe?"
"Nothing." Dana hunted up her computer and duffel.
"So what should I bring?"
"Clothes, a toothbrush, we'll stop and get some groceries."
"A bathing suit?"
"Unless you swim nude."
"Do you?" Grace wiggled her eyebrows.
"Just get your stuff, so we can hit the waves."
"Will it be hot or cold?" she yelled from her room as she went
through her drawers.
"We're going south."
"I guess that means hot," she mumbled to herself. Not a really
good communicator. "Anything dressy?" she asked hopefully.
Dana was standing in the doorway watching her bustle about. "You can
bring a dress, but I don't guarantee anything."
Grace went to her closet and picked out the perfect tropical dress, and
zipped it into a suit bag, then pumps and nylons and a black garter. "Almost
there," she said as she disappeared into the bathroom and filled her
travel case.
Dana moved over to the liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of Captain Morgan
and a bottle of Sauza tequila.
"Here I am," Grace said holding her luggage a huge smile beaming. "Food, we need food."
Dana closed the door behind them. "You can drop me at the dinghy, go shopping while I bring the boat around to the main dock. I'll gas up and fill the water tank."
Grace's face scrunched up into a childlike joy. Then a thought. "You
do have life vests?"
"Of course." She placed he last of their bags in the tight space
of the little Jeep. "I know I've asked you this before, but you can
swim right?"
Hesitation, how to answer. She'll think I'm I duffus if I say "no".
"Grace?" the raven headed con looked to her friend when did not receive an answer. She poked her head from behind the car to look at see that she was still there. "You can't swim?"
"No," she said embarrassed. "Is that going to be problem?"
Dana walked up to her her face serious. "Only if you fall in. The question
is, will you feel comfortable."
A nod yes. "And maybe you can teach me how."
