He came inside the room carrying a folding chair. He winked at her.
Simone glared at him. “What the hell is going on up there? Why was my daughter screaming?”
Leon placed the chair on the floor near the battery-powered lamp, and eased into it. He fired up a cigarette, took a slow pull.
“Everything’s cool with the munchkin,” he said. “Billy gave her a little fright, but she’s all right, ain’t nothing but a thing in the spring.”
“You promised me that sick bastard wouldn’t touch her.”
“He didn’t touch her. He only sniffed her.” Leon snickered. “Technically, he didn’t disobey my orders, he knows I’m the Alpha dog, the Omega, there’s none greater.”
Her mind reeled. That pervert had sniffed her baby? He’d gotten close enough to Jada to do that?
She felt cold.
“Leon, I want my daughter in here with me,” she said firmly. “You can’t control your partner. Clearly, he’s testing the boundaries. God only knows what he’ll do next.”
“No can do.” Leon tapped ashes into a paper tray. “I want to spend quality time with you, just you and me, I love having your undivided attention, Clair Huxtable, wanna build an effigy to you when we’re all through, yeah, uh-huh, all right.”
Since Leon had called Corey and named his new, ludicrous ransom, the depressive phase of his possible bipolar disorder had proven short-lived. He’d cycled back to a manic state, talking rapidly again, using convoluted sentences, gesturing frantically and chain-smoking cigarettes. Whatever bond she had forged with him a few hours ago had crumbled.
She could only pray that Corey understood the clue she had given him about their location. She estimated that it had been a few hours since they had spoken-it was maybe ten o’clock by now, maybe a bit later-and she wanted to believe that Corey was busy plotting a rescue. Although she reminded herself that she could not place all her hopes in Corey coming through for them, that she had to stay alert for an opportunity to take advantage of Leon.
But when Leon was manic like this, he was thoroughly unpredictable, as difficult to pin down as a greased snake. And about as dangerous.
She sat on the mattress. Leon abruptly rose off the chair and dropped beside her, smelling strongly of sour sweat and nicotine. He touched her leg.
“No,” she said. She jerked away, and stood.
He scowled. “Aw, why you wanna treat a brother so bad? We’ve been in here conversating for hours, getting to know each other well, I’m feeling our connection clicking, our rapport rising, you’re becoming the yin to my yang, the hot to my cold, the white to my black, the east to my west, and that means everything to me.” He pounded his chest with his fist. “All the confused little boy in me needs is some genuine love, Clair Huxtable.”
She stared at him, barely able to disguise her disgust. “What is love to you, Leon?”
“Love is patient and kind, it doesn’t boast, it isn’t proud, it isn’t easily pissed off, it always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always keeps on doing the damn thing, love never lets you down.” He sucked on the cigarette, flashed a proud grin.
He had just paraphrased the famous passage from the Bible book of Corinthians. She didn’t know why she had expected a more believable answer. In truth, like most psychopaths, he likely had no idea whatsoever of love. All he could do was recite phrases and platitudes he’d read somewhere and try to pass them off as his own original thoughts.
“You feel a love that deep for C-Note?” he asked.
“Corey and I share a special bond of love, yes,” she said, eager to deflect the questioning from herself. “When you say love is patient and kind, does someone in your own life come to mind?”
He sneered. “All right, there you go now with your dime store psychobabble bullshit, trying to put me under an electron microscope.” He blew smoke at her. “Fuck that. Fuck you. That’s why your hubby’s a stone-cold killer.”
She leaned against the wall, sighed wearily. She knew she shouldn’t let herself get drawn in to this, knew that every word that came out of this man’s mouth was highly suspect, but the bait was too tempting.
“What’re you talking about?” she asked. “He’s no killer.”
“No? I’ve been doing the electric slide around the issue and I’m not going to hold back any more, Corey and I used to rock ’n’ roll like Jimmy Hendrix back in the day, breaking and entering into domiciles all over Motown. That’s right, yeah, you heard me right, Mr. Security Company used to be a B amp;E man, deliciously ironic, huh?”
From the phone conversations she’d overheard between Corey and Leon, she had suspected as much. She didn’t know what to think about it, mostly because she had more pressing issues to deal with, and partly because she would accept only Corey’s own admission of his past acts, not Leon’s spotty stories.
“But you said he was a killer,” she said.
“Patience, mademoiselle, I was getting to that, I wanted to paint the tableau. Anyway, so this one break-in we did on the east side, Conant Gardens. Picture a sunny spring afternoon in April. We busted into a brick bungalow on a quiet street, we were loading up on jewelry and cash, and the homeowner interrupted us before we finished. Corey was carrying the gun. He told me he wasn’t going to go down. He popped the man twice, one in the chest, one in the head.”
Her stomach turned slow flips. “You’re lying.”
Leon stared at her, half his face blacked out with shadow. “You want to know why he did it? The guy recognized Corey, he was one of his old high school English teachers. The dude said he’d let us walk if we didn’t hurt him, but Corey was worried that the guy would call the cops and ID him, so-bang, Corey smoked him like the Terminator, no pause, no hesitation. I couldn’t believe it, baby girl. . shit, I still can’t, first time I’d ever seen anyone murdered. . it’s stayed with me.” Eyes watery, he sniffed, looked away.
“You’re lying,” Simone said again. “Corey. . couldn’t. . wouldn’t. . do. . that. .”
“Wouldn’t he?” Leon’s gaze snapped back to her. “Why do you think he’s never told you about me? Huh? I remind him of a chapter of his life that he’d rather forget, sweep under the rug, but homicide doesn’t ever go away, there’s no statute of limitations on murder. Why do you think Corey hasn’t called the cops and told them you and the munchkin are here? Huh? Because he knows I can snitch on him, he knows he’d lose it all if I talk, and that’s my leverage, the only leverage I’ve got on him, ’cause if I tell the truth he loses everything, his business, you, the kid, all of it, flushed down the drain, and joins the sewage system and he’s serving a life sentence in a Michigan state pen. Rome has fallen.”
“No.” She shook her head adamantly. “I don’t believe you.”
“Face it, you married an ice-cold killer, and he’s been lying to you ever since you’ve known him.”
“Stop talking to me.”
“Corey gunned down his old teacher like a dog in the street-”
“Stop it.”
“Made me swear I’d never snitch-”
“No-”
“His whole life ever since has been a lie, and yours, too-”
“Stop it, goddamnit! Stop it! Stop it!”
Silent, Leon watched her through a shifting screen of smoke.
“Just. . just leave me alone,” she said, breathing shakily. “Please. Go away.”
Shrugging, he stubbed out his cigarette, grabbed the chair, and walked to the door. Before leaving, he turned.
“Ask yourself what kind of man would lie to you like he has?” He tapped his temple. “Counselor, counsel thyself.”
He left her alone in the room, the thunk of the closing door echoing in her heart.
54
As rain poured from the night sky, Corey sped away from the warehouse in Otis’s pickup, the heater blasting out hot air at the maximum setting, drying his clothes and cooking the last traces of coldness out of his body.