Silent Prey

CHAPTER
24

Lily listened as Lucas called Fell, watched his face, watched him smiling, turning away, setting up a date. Lucas left, hurrying, and she stood at the window with her purse, watching him. He flagged a cab, and just before he got in, looked up and saw, pointed at her purse, waved.

Then he was gone.

She walked through the apartment, touching things, with the sense of something ending, with a sense of dread.

Kennett? No. But O'Dell was unthinkable too. Could O'Dell have coldly executed his own man…

Finally, she picked up the phone and punched in the number for Kennett's boat. He picked it up and said, "Lily."

Pleased, she said, "How'd you know it was me?"

"I think it might be love," he said. "Are you feeling lonely?"

"You're reading my mind."

"The river's beautiful tonight…"

The river was quiet, smelling of mud and oil and salt. Halyard hardware tinkled against the aluminum masts. A late-night squall was rolling off the coast far to the northeast, and they could see the lightning in the sky far beyond the lights of Manhattan.

As Lily and Kennett made love, she had a moment of absolute clarity, could hear the Crash Test Dummies' song "Superman" roll mournfully out of a nearby boat, muted by the ten thousand unidentifiable cheeps and knocks of the marina.

Later, in the cockpit…

"Jesus, I'm sitting here bullshitting and you're sitting there crying," Kennett said quietly. He reached across and thumbed a tear off her cheek. "What's all this about?"

"I was just looking across the river, thinking how pretty it was, how good it feels. Then I thought about Walt, about how he'd never see it again."

"Petty?"

"Yeah. God damn it."

"The guy has a strange hold on you, m'dear," Kennett said, trying to keep his voice light: an invitation to talk.

"You know why?" she asked, taking up the invitation.

"Why?"

"Because we were so goddamn mean to him, that's why. Us girls, in school. Lucas got me thinking about it…"

"It's hard to see you as mean," Kennett said.

"I didn't think about it at the time. The thing about Walt was, he'd do anything for you. He was always so eager. And when we were in school-and even after that, on the force-we paid him back by laughing about the way he dressed, and the way he acted, and all those pens he used to carry around. We made him be a clown and he wasn't a clown; but whenever he tried to be serious, we wouldn't let him. We hurt him. That's what I was thinking about, the times I know we hurt him-girls, in high school-that hurt look on his face when he'd try to do something, try an approach and we'd laugh in his face. He never really understood… Oh, God."

Suddenly, she was sobbing and Kennett patted her on the back, helplessly. "Jesus, Lily…"

A moment later she said, her voice clearing, "You're a Catholic. Do you believe in visions? You know, like the Virgin Mary and all of that, talking to shepherds?"

"I'd want to see it myself," Kennett said wryly.

"The thing is, I keep seeing Petty…" She laughed, a short, sad laugh, and poked him. "No, no, no, I don't see him floating around my room, I see him in my mind…"

"Whew."

"But the thing is, it's so clear. Walt running down the street, and his hair plastered down and his ears sticking out… Jesus Christ. Walt was the only guy who ever loved me and didn't want anything from me. No sex, no kids, no favors, just me being there and he was happy."

Kennett found nothing to say, and they sat there, their feet up, watching the dark river. After a while, Lily began to cry again.