The Tattered Thread

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  When Vic stumbled out of the library after talking to the detectives, it looked as if his stomach was more unsettled than before he went in. Tasia met him at the door, taking him by the arm. She looked sick to her stomach as well, but for different reasons. It was starting to become a contest between the two of them as to who was sweating and shaking the most.

  “I’m so sorry they put you through all of that,” she said.

  “No one is spared, I’m afraid. Least of all me. While Carlyle was busy making deals, breaking spirits, and cornering markets, his whole world was tumbling down right on top of him.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t even aware of it.”

  Vic staggered, so Tasia held him tighter and sat him down on a wicker settee in the hallway. After sitting down beside him, she froze as Detective Slye stuck his head out from the library door. It seemed unfair that the hair in his mustache should be thick while the hair on his head was so thin, that every detail of his scalp could be seen. But judging by the size of his girth and by his persistent, respiratory wheeze, that must’ve been the least of his worries.

  “Mr. McGhee, we’d like to talk to you now,” he said, his mustache twitching in anticipation. Marlon forced himself away from a game of solitaire and trudged solemnly into the room, giving Tasia a dirty look before closing the door behind him.

  When Tasia looked at Vic again, she found him staring down at her left hand, which was curled against his sleeve as if it were paralyzed. She couldn’t hide it fast enough.

  “That’s quite a gouge you’ve got there on your arm, girl,” he said, outlining her right wrist with his index finger. “Short sleeves don’t suit you anymore.”

  “I know.”

  “Maybe you could wear bracelets to hide it.”

  “I don’t wear bracelets often,” she said. “Too clunky.”

  “Well, you should,” he said, heaving a sigh. Noting how distressed she seemed about it, he had the wherewithal to put his arm around her and say, “You’re still a beautiful woman,” and that made her smile. “Hey, I could use that drink now.”

  She got up long enough to fetch the glass of vodka he’d left in the parlor. As he finished the drink, he coughed and sputtered from consuming it much too quickly.

  Jittery the whole time Vic had been interrogated, Tasia had taken it upon herself to walk from one end of the house to the other, stopping only to watch the library door each time she’d passed. It was obvious that she safeguarded her friends with more zeal than she ever would provide for herself. Pulling her hair back into a spur-of-the-moment ponytail, the hairstyle enhanced the roundness of her cheeks and chin, making her look even younger. Too bad her cute face still bore the scars of a hard life. Self-mutilation wasn’t the only sign of her inner struggles.

  Pausing only after his glass was empty, Vic closed his bloodshot eyes as the liquor burned his throat. Sucking in a breath to cool his mouth, he then looked at Tasia again. “I take it Silas wasn’t at home when the meeting was going on yesterday,” he said.

  “Yes, he was. He’s sick, Vic. Haven’t you noticed?”

  “No, I haven’t.” Studying his hands as if he didn’t have the courage to look at her and admit he’d been stoned out of his mind for the past few days, he shook his matted head again.

  “It’s all right,” she said. “I understand.”

  “It’s easy to understand me, isn’t it? I only care about a bottle of booze.”

  “That’s not true. Besides, I know what made him ill. Carl insisted that he go to a lecture at a local university the day before. It lasted eight hours. I think it was called Finance and the Youth of America, or some such shit as that.” She shook her head. “It made me wanna throw up just hearing about it.”

  Vic laughed. “Carl really tried to shove business down the poor boy’s throat, didn’t he?”

  “That’s putting it mildly. Silas hasn’t had a normal day of childhood in seven years. The only time he’s ever treated as a child is whenever he’s sick. Poor health is a godsend for him.”

  “That’s true enough.” Hesitating to stare at her fondly, Vic said, “But Silas wasn’t the only one who didn’t have a normal childhood, was he?” It wasn’t surprising that she didn’t answer his question.

  “Silas and I used to do lots of fun stuff together,” he continued, “until his pappy told him that I couldn’t hang out with him anymore. I guess I really couldn’t blame Carl, what with how I carry on at times. The best thing I can do is drink, but there isn’t much of a future in that, is there?”

  “No, there isn’t.”

  Fond memories seemed to be occupying his thoughts, and he looked quite pleased about something. “We used to do lots of things together, too,” he told her. “Just you and me. But not so much anymore.”

  Shrugging, she tried not to look disappointed. “You’ve been busy.”

  “Busy drinking.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

  “True, but drinking was the only way I could survive in this place. It’s important you understand that.”

  “You did what you had to do, Vic,” she said. “All of us did.” Standing up as if afraid to let him see her emotions skidding out of control, she wiped tears away from both cheeks with her fingertips. “I’m going out for awhile.”

  “Are you going into town?”

  “No, no. I want to ride one of the horses. It relaxes me, and I need to clear my head.”

  “That sounds like a good idea. You have fun now.”

  “I will.”

  Before heading off to her room to change, she stopped and stared at Elaine for a moment. She almost seemed surprised to find her standing there. Elaine smiled, but Tasia didn’t smile back. The long incision across her neck was almost an undetectable scratch, and despite the scars, her right wrist was as good as new. But her left hand was almost useless, capable of forming a loose fist at best. And yet there she was, announcing an outing on a horse with no one responsible enough to tell her not to do it.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t go riding today, Tasia,” Elaine said. “I can see you’re much too upset for that.”

  “I can handle a horse. What I can’t stand is being in this house any longer than necessary. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab my riding gear.” Tasia walked off and made a point of it not to look back.