Grizz
2001, Fort Lauderdale
Grizz headed back for his house in Laurel Falls. His mind was still spinning from the conversation he’d had with Mimi. She was sharp, and he felt like he’d been put through an official interrogation. If Mimi was this inquisitive, he could only imagine what his conversation with Ginny would be like. If he ever got to have one with her.
He answered all of Mimi’s questions honestly except for one—how he’d faked his death. He did, however, plant some truth in her mind: that anyone with enough power and the right amount of money can do anything they wanted.
“I know you are—or were—wealthy,” she’d said, brow arched. Good. He was glad when she didn’t pursue the subject further.
His daughter was smart and a bit sassy. She’d continued with other questions after that. He was a little taken aback when he thought he saw her lip quiver as she said in a low voice, “So I guess you never wanted me. You wanted Mom, but not me. You told her to make sure I never knew you. I guess that’s because you didn’t want to know me.”
He could’ve explained to her then that it had never been his intention to stay away. He could’ve gone into a lengthy discussion about never believing his fake execution would take so many years.
Instead, he hefted his hip off the car seat and reached for his wallet. He dug deep and pulled out three pictures that were worn and had been cropped to fit inside. He handed them to her.
Her hands shook as she looked at the pictures. They were of her when she was just a little girl.
“Mom sent these to you?” Something that may have resembled hope was in her voice.
“No,” he said evenly. “She honored my request to keep you away. I had surveillance on you those first few years. I didn’t want to miss anything. When it was obvious things were taking longer than I’d expected, I stopped the surveillance. It was too much for me and not fair to your parents. Or you.”
She didn’t say anything, and he thought her lip started to tremble harder.
“I’d like those back,” he said, his deep voice bringing her back. “They’re the only ones I still have.”
She’d regained her composure and handed them back to him.
Now, his groceries put away, he’d made himself something to eat and was sitting on the couch staring at the blank TV screen.
“I won’t bother you again, Ginny. I’ll stay away. You have my word on that.”
His own words, spoken only hours ago, taunted him. Who was he kidding? There was a bit of sincerity in what he’d said, but he was really trying to call her bluff. He was certain he caught a moment of weakness in her glance when Jason introduced himself.
Had he read her right? Did she still have feelings for him? And if she did, to what end? Would she lead two lives? One of devoted and widowed mother of two children and another as mistress to a dead man? He knew how he would like to see things play out, but it would be a long shot, and he had no choice but to wait out the standoff he’d initiated.
Ginny was one of the most strong-willed and stubborn women he’d ever known, even when she was younger. She would only be stronger now.
He went to a second bedroom which he’d set up as an exercise room and lifted weights. When his muscles tired, he took a hot shower and did a load of laundry. He packed his lunch for the next day and headed back to the living room. He flipped through the TV channels and, not finding anything that interested him, tossed the remote aside.
Where had he put Moe’s journal when he’d moved over here from the efficiency? He went into the bedroom and rummaged through his few belongings. There it was, stuffed back in the bag he’d shoved into one of the nightstand drawers.
He hadn’t read too much the one and only time he’d picked it up. He was getting tired, and Monday morning would be here soon. Maybe he’d read just a little more.
**********
Moe’s Diary, 1975
Dear Elizabeth,
I can’t believe he’s still acting as if nothing happened between us. I know he told me that same night that it probably shouldn’t have happened, that I shouldn’t read anything into it, but I know it was more. I’ve never had a man make love to me. Men screw me. Even Fess tries to act like it’s more special than just a lay, but I know what I am. I like Fess and care about him. But I don’t love him.
It was different with Grunt. I know he was upset when he got back from the beach with Sarah Jo and figured out what Kit and Grizz were doing in Number Four. I saw him walk back to his room with his head down. I’d thought maybe I would show him some of my latest sketches. He seems to like them, and I like hearing I have talent. I took some of my drawings to his unit, and he acted nice, but I could tell his mind was on other things. He was thinking about her. I decided to leave and thought maybe I would just give him a hug. He held me longer than he ever had before, and when I looked up to see if he was okay, he kissed my forehead. Then he kissed my temple. Before I knew what was happening, he was kissing my neck. I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy it. He made his way down my body, and next thing I knew, we were undressed and in his bed.
If he didn’t care and was just trying to get off, it would’ve been quick. But it wasn’t. He really took his time with me, and it was so beautiful I almost cried a few times. I’d never had that feeling before. I know when a man gets his rocks off, but I never knew a woman could do that, too. Grunt made me feel things I never felt. Things I want to keep feeling, but he told me he was sorry that it happened and couldn’t happen again. That he didn’t want it to ruin our friendship, and that my friendship was very important to him.
I know he has feelings for her, but she doesn’t love him. She doesn’t care about him the way I do. It’s not fair. It’s just not fair.
**********
So Moe had feelings for Tommy. Grizz wasn’t surprised by this. Other than Fess and Ginny, Tommy was the only person who’d ever shown any kindness to Moe. And now knowing they’d had a night of passion only confirmed what he’d already learned in the back of that pool supply store in Tallahassee. Moe was the insider at the motel. Between her love for Tommy and her hatred of him, having Ginny gone would’ve served two purposes.
His jaw tightened as he finally came to the part where Moe had unwittingly helped set up Ginny’s rape and almost murder. He believed what he was reading. That Moe hadn’t intended for it to go that far, but that fucking bitch, Willow, posing as someone named Wendy, had tricked her. And Ginny had paid the price. Well, he’d made sure Willow and her brainless boyfriend paid the ultimate price. He may have had some regrets about his criminal past, but he never had any regrets for something he’d done in retaliation for anything directed at Ginny. Willow’s last words to Moe mocked him and clawed at his subconscious as he fell into a restless sleep that night. “It’ll be tit for tat…it’ll be tit for tat.”
He had angry and violent dreams that night. Dreams of being helpless. Even though he hadn’t witnessed it, he relived Ginny’s torture and rape by a man in a black ski mask. He dreamed he was strapped to the gurney in the execution room, and he could see Ginny through the glass window. Except he wasn’t seeing her calmly sitting with the rest of the spectators. He was seeing their bedroom in the motel. The man with the black ski mask had just finished raping and beating Ginny and she laid there, her face bloated and swollen. A trickle of blood flowed from her left nostril and ear. The man placed his ear to Ginny’s chest to see if she had a heartbeat and, satisfied that he’d killed her, he slowly climbed off the bed.
Grizz watched in a helpless dream-state as the man stood and looked around the motel room, searching for something to steal. He noticed Gwinny jump up on the bed and gently approach Ginny. She started licking Ginny’s face. Grizz watched the man grab Gwinny and kill her. He then tucked the black cat beneath the covers next to Ginny. It was intended as a sadistic surprise for the person who’d eventually find Ginny’s body.
Then he watched the man take off his ski mask. Even in the depths of so dark a dream, Grizz felt his heartbeat quicken. He wasn’t looking at Ginny’s rapist.
He was looking at her then-best friend. He was looking at Sarah Jo.