‘I don’t think that it will be less than six months.’
As if on cue, Mary’s cellphone rang inside her handbag.
‘Talking about the devil.’ She winked at Denise before taking Quaddra’s call, and just like that, her voice went soft and seductive.
‘Honeyyyyy… I was wondering why you hadn’t called me yet.’ Even though he couldn’t see it, Mary made a sad puppy face. ‘I miss you.’
‘This bitch,’ Denise whispered to herself, while shaking her head at Mary.
Sixty-Six
On the phone that afternoon, Quaddra had told Mary that unfortunately, he would have to stay in LA for at least another day. He’d explained that the meetings were going well, but he expected it all to take another day or so before a deal was finalized. But none of that was actually true. There had been no business meetings… no deal to finalize… no new company to acquire. That was not the reason why Quaddra had flown to Los Angeles.
Days ago, when he’d asked Mary if she would like to come on this trip with him, he knew that she would say no. The truth was, he hadn’t forgotten about the exhibitions that Mary had worked so hard to organize, like he’d pretended he had, but inviting her and having Mary say that she couldn’t come made the whole trip seem a lot more legit.
Quaddrawasdue to meet someone that evening, but this was no business meeting. On the contrary, tonight, it was all about pleasure… at least for him.
In his room, he checked the contents of his briefcase, yet again. He had everything he needed, including the brand-new Polaroid camera, bought and paid in cash that afternoon at a small pawnshop in South LA.
Quaddra didn’t really like to use digital images. They were way too easy to alter – filters, retouching apps, deep fake programs – the market was completely saturated with them. Polaroids, onthe other hand, were old school. One click and boom, seconds later he had a hard copy of a photo right in his hands – no filters, no alterations, no photoshopping and no second copies. Every photo was real and unique – developed and printed right there and then, giving him a tangible and very personal piece of history – a moment frozen in time. But better still, Polaroids left no trail behind… no digital signature of any kind. The images didn’t get stored on a hard drive where others could find them, or sat on the cloud where they could be accessed over the Internet. You either physically had them, or you didn’t. To Quaddra, that was their biggest appeal.
He locked his briefcase before retrieving his cellphone from his coat pocket and placing it on the table. Rule number one was if you were planning on doing something in secrecy – leave your phone behind. Quaddra had always said that, in reality, a cellphone wasn’t actually a phone – it was a tracking and listening device, with a phone capability. He knew that only too well because one of his companies was amongst the market leaders in GPS and satellite tracking systems.
In the bathroom, Quaddra checked his reflection in the mirror one last time. The fake beard, the long hair and the light color contact lenses didn’t actually look too bad and, right then, he wondered what Mary would think of that look.
‘She would probably like it,’ he decided, glancing at his watch. It was time to get going.
‘Everyone has a past… a history’. He remembered saying those words to Mary at the restaurant, on their first-ever night out. What he didn’t say, but it was just as true, was that ‘Everyone also has secrets, and for some, those secrets are as dark as they come’. Quaddra was sure that Mary had hers; whatever they might be… and he no doubt had his own.
Sixty-Seven
Mary hugged herself, as her gaze settled on a neutral spot on the white rug under her feet. They were coming to the end of their session, and, to Dr. Lillian Fox, the psychologist that Mary had been seeing for a little over ten months now, Mary’s facial expression seemed intriguing.
‘Is everything OK?’ Dr. Fox asked, her voice calm and composed, as always. She was sitting in her usual wingback Chesterfield armchair, just across the room from Mary. Her right leg was crossed over her left one in a relaxed position. She held a pen in her right hand, with a notepad resting on her lap. Yes, the session was being recorded, that was standard common practice, but Dr. Fox liked to take notes of visible details… things that the digital voice recorder could never capture.
Mary nodded shyly, but voiced no reply.
‘Anything bothering you?’ Dr. Fox asked. ‘Anything at all?’ She found Mary’s posture to be a little tense, with her facial expression showing an odd combination of happiness and concern.
Dr. Fox was maybe a couple of inches taller than Mary and several pounds heavier, with intelligent dark eyes that sat behind round spectacles. Her hair, which was a shade darker than her eyes, was long and shiny, and she always had it either up in a ballet bun or loose, slung behind her head from her right shoulder to her left one, mermaid style. That afternoon, Dr. Fox had chosen theballerina look. The sleeves of her pleated satin top were rolled up to her elbows, half exposing her arms.
‘I love that tattoo, you know?’ Mary said, nodding at Dr. Fox’s right forearm.
Dr. Fox did know that. Mary had told her so on their very first session and several times during their subsequent ones. The tattoo covered most of the outside of Dr. Fox’s right forearm and it showed the two main characters from the classic Christmas animation movie,The Nightmare Before Christmas– Jack Skellington and his girlfriend, Sally. In the tattoo, Jack and Sally were facing each other. In their hands, they held each other’s bleeding hearts.
‘I hate Christmas,’ Mary told Dr. Fox… again. ‘But I love that film. It’s a great love story.’
Dr. Fox said nothing back. She knew that mentioning the tattoo was one of Mary’s most used evading tactics. It had happened several times before.
The doctor waited in silence.
Mary pressed her lips together, before allowing them to stretch into a half smile, but her eyes didn’t seem to smile with them.
Dr. Fox pushed. ‘Is there anything that you’d like to talk about, Mary?’
Mary’s acting was so on point that if this were an audition for the main role in some major Hollywood production film, she’d get it, hands down.
‘You seem just a little… on edge today,’ Dr. Fox said, her eyes carefully studying Mary.
