Bonne Femme

Chapter 11

Intimidation

June 12

       The next morning she had Richard drop her at a clothing store while he took the Cougar for an oil change.  As soon as he drove away, she went next door to make a credit card purchase she could little afford and then hurried back to the clothing store to wait for him.  She was picking through a sale rack of sweaters when she saw Mic standing near the entrance.  Clinging to him was a girl whose wavy brown hair fell to the small of her back.  Her abbreviated tank top lacked several inches reaching the pants riding low on her hips.  Jill judged her at no more than eighteen.

        Retreating further into the store so that he wouldn't see her, she put a rack of pantsuits between them and herself.  The girl was examining a tray of scarves when Mic slid his hand to her bare midriff.  She covered it with her own and arched back into him, closing her eyes at his touch.  When he slid his hand higher, she twisted away, finally becoming embarrassed. 

It is about time, thought Jill.

        Mic was having none of it.  He spun her back around and drew her to him.  When he kissed her she melted into his embrace.  Then he slid his hands down her narrow waist and over the flare of her hips.  He cupped her buttocks, pulled her against him, and then looked directly into Jill's eyes and winked.

        The girl shook her head and put her hands to his chest, trying to extricate herself, but he took her by the nape of her neck and kissed her playfully on the tip of her nose, then on her cheek, then at the corner of her mouth.  She tilted back, offering him her parted lips.  Instead of kissing her, he leaned back to watch her face as his hand moved up under her blouse.

 

207.

"Don't!" she whispered harshly, trying to twist away.

"You don't want me to quit," he said, grasping her wrists and pinning them behind her.

"Please Mic!"

        He pulled her roughly to him.  This time when she struggled he released her abruptly and she stumbled backward, nearly upsetting a rack of skirts.  Mic took no notice as she left the store.  Instead he walked slowly toward Jill.

        Her eyes frantically swept the store.  No one seemed to have noticed, and no one was near.  She tried to stem the rising panic by telling herself that he couldn't do anything to her in such a public place.  He advanced on her with a smug smile, pleased with himself and enjoying the moment.

"She'll be back, Jill," he said softly, almost whispering.  "Know why?"

        He had obviously staged the scene because of her, but she was determined not to play his sick game.

        "I'll tell you why," he continued.  "You women like that little unpredictable thing I have.  You don't know exactly what I might do to you, and that's a real rush.  You really get off on it, don't you?"

        She had been unconsciously retreating.  Now her back was against the wall and racks of clothes hemmed her in.

        "I know a secret," he said in a conspiratorial tone.  "When I was feeling up Denise, you felt my hands on you, didn't you?"

Jill forced herself to breath evenly. 

"If you touch me, I will scream," she said as calmly as she could manage.

He laughed.

"Moan maybe," he said softly. 

Jill flinched away as he reached to brush her cheek.

"You want it," he said, drifting his gaze to her breasts.  "Admit it."

Jill tried to keep from breathing too deeply.

        "They all come back to me, Jill," he said, his smile fading to a stare.  "And they all end up doing what I want."

 

208.

"Leave us alone, Mic," she said, trying to sound unintimidated.

"Us?  Oh yeah, I noticed the ring."

        He hooked a finger into the top of her blouse before she realized what was happening.  He tugged it gently as if he were about to pull it down or rip it open.  The insolent vulgarity paralyzed her.  Before she could recover enough to knock his hand away, he let the fabric slip from his fingertip and stepped back.

        "I'd like to attend your wedding, but things are a little tense between me and Ricky.  You might be able to soothe things, if you know what I mean."

Her mind wouldn't work well enough for her to think of an appropriate reply.

"Tell you what," he said.  "You just give me a call if I can do anything for you."

Without waiting for her to reply, he turned and strolled from the store.

Jill took a deep breath and closed her eyes in relief.

I should have spit in his face, she thought angrily.

 

        She sat chewing her lip on the way back to the apartment, trying to understand why Mic had abandoned his pretense of friendship.

"What's wrong?" asked Richard.

"I was just thinking."

"Yeah.  Something's really bothering you.  Want to talk about it?"

        "If I tell you, then you must promise that you will do nothing until we agree that it is the right thing to do."

"He did something, didn't he?" he asked in alarm.

"Promise."

"Okay," he said quickly.

 

209.

"No," she replied.  "You must promise first."

"I said Okay."

"And I know what this Okay means."

"All right.  I promise.  Now tell me."

        Studying his reactions carefully, she gave him a greatly expurgated account of what had happened.

"Did he touch you or threaten you?"

"No," she said, which was a blatant lie except in the most literal sense.

        Richard drove in silence clenching and unclenching his jaw, knuckles white on the wheel, as he wondered what was coming next from Mic.  When he pulled to the curb in front of the house he finally spoke.

"Go in and call Marta," he said calmly.  "If she's home tell her we're coming over."

Jill made no move to comply.

"Give me the car keys first," she said.

        "You're trying to protect me from myself," he said, turning off the ignition and handing over the keys.  "You go call her.  I just need to sit here and think.  Honestly, I wasn't going to go anywhere."

        "If you do anything without consulting with me then there is no reason for me to stay," she said as she got out of the car.  "You understand this, do you not?"

"I understand."

 

        He needed time to think and he needed advice, but his first priority was Jill's safety.  By the time she got back to the car, Richard had decided what he wanted to do.

"She was at home, and she said we should come over."

        "Do you think you could convince her to go with us if we took a long weekend out of town?" he asked as soon as they were on the road.

 

210.

"Why?"

        "I don't want him bothering her to find out where we are.  He did that when we were on Bonne Femme."

        Involving Marta might be a mistake, but Mic's escalating and unpredictable behavior made Richard suspect that she was already in danger.  Taking her along was the only way he knew to insure her safety.

        Besides, he reasoned, just because he can't find any of us doesn't mean he'll know we're together.

"Where would we go?" asked Jill.

She was relieved that Richard hadn't insisted on confronting Mic immediately.

"To visit Kevin."

"The friend you wrote of in the note?"

        "Yes, and there's a lady in South Bend I'd like to talk too---if she'll see me.  Doctor Laurel Senter.  She's a psychologist."

"Your psychologist?"

        "I don't have a psychologist.  She did a workshop when I was with the sheriff's department.  Great lecturer."

"What was her topic?" asked Jill apprehensively.

"The Pathology of Stranger Homicide, an exposition of a monograph of the same title."

"Stranger homicide?"

"An old term for serial killings."

        It sounded unreal to her, verging on the ridiculous.  People didn't encounter serial killers in real life.  Then again people didn't get abducted in real life either, and if they did, they certainly didn't move in with their abductors or go on vacations with them.

"Mic is just a bully," she said without conviction.

        "He's a sociopath," he said.  "He's all about him---all about his own gratification regardless of what it does to others."

"It is difficult to believe," she said.  "I can believe some of it I think, but killing?"

 

211.

"Rose Ford is gone, Jill.  I know he's at the bottom of that."

They drove in silence for a moment.

        "Jill, I'll admit that we don't know what he is if anything.  But what we do know is disturbing:  his love of violence, his fascination with death, his attitude toward women."

        "I do not know about this fascination with death, but I saw how much he enjoyed beating that young man."

        She examined her experiences with Mic, remembering things she should have taken note of long before she did. 

        "He does not like women, but he understands how to manipulate them," she said.  "I was a fool to stay with him as long as I did."

Richard was reluctant to say anything.

"I hate him," she said softly.

        He took his eyes from the road for a moment to look at her.  In profile her small jaw was set, as she looked straight ahead.

        "I want the pistol," she said.  "I need it when I am alone.  I will shoot him if I must defend myself."

        Richard knew the pistol would provide nothing but reassurance.  Mic would never be afraid of Jill even if she were armed and determined because he would not believe that any woman could get the best of him.  He would probably be right.  Jill would probably hesitate too long because that's what people do who aren't psychopaths.

"Maybe Doctor Senter can help me anticipate his actions."

        "It is we who need to anticipate him, not only you," she said.  "Why are we going to see your friend, Kevin?"

        "To keep the two of you out of harm's way, until I can . . . until we can think of what to do next.  Besides, I'd like you to meet Kevin, and I'd like to thank him for helping me."

It took a moment for the last part of his explanation to sink in.

"He mailed the card for you," she said softly.  "He helped you kidnap me!"

        "No.  It's not like that.  He mailed the postcard," he said.  "But he didn't know anything about you or what I was doing."

 

212.

"How could he not know that you were doing something wrong."

"He trusted me."

"Then he is a fool."

        "No.  He told me right off that if I committed a crime he'd go straight to the police and tell them what I asked him to do.  He made a joke about me having him set up an alibi.  I assured him that I just didn't want Mic to know where I was going."

"Would he have really gone to the police?"

"He'd turn me in."

        "You made him an accomplice.  What would have happened if you were arrested and they found out that he had helped you?"

        "I would never have let it come to that.  If you turned me in, I would have confessed everything.  No way would I have let Kevin take any of the blame."

"How could he trust you enough to do such a thing?"

"He knows me."

        Jill wondered what sort of man would trust Richard enough to jeopardize his own freedom.  She too trusted Richard, but only his intentions, not necessarily his judgment.

"And the psychiatrist in---where is it?"

"South Bend, and she's a behavioral psychologist."

"And you think she will help you understand the way Mic thinks?"

"If she doesn't just think I'm imagining things."

Until today Jill had thought so too.

"He enjoyed terrifying me," she said.  "Why would he do that?  I did nothing to him."

"I think he did it because I told JR about him and Rose Ford."

 

213.

Jill saw again the glint in Mic's eyes when he had her trapped at the back of the store.

        "When I was feeling up Denise, you felt my hands on you, didn't you?" she heard him say. 

"No, Richard.  This was about me today."

She fingered her ring nervously as she thought about it.

"What's that?" he asked, as he noticed the small diamond.

        "Camouflage," she said, raising her chin.  "It is to deceive Marta.  I explained moving in with you by telling her that we are engaged.  I bought it today.  We will talk of it no more."

"You could just tell her the truth."

        "No, Richard.  I cannot.  All this is incomprehensible.  Even now I am not certain that I know what is happening."

"But---"

        "All I know is that I am afraid of him, and I am not afraid of you.  That I am . . . cooperating with you should be enough for you."

"It is."

 

214.

"It is a charade, Richard.  Nothing more.  More is impossible."

 June 13

        Richard drove on through the long night, fighting intermittent rain showers, slogging through two intense thunderstorms and making terrible time.  Jill promised to keep him company, but fell asleep around three.  He glimpsed Marta in the rearview sleeping in the corner of the backseat.  He regretted widening the circle, but Marta was probably already in it, and Kevin could take care of himself once alerted.  He was removing Marta from Mic's reach while they were out of town because he suspected that she would become a target when his designs on Jill were frustrated.  But he was only guessing, which was why he needed to talk to Doctor Senter.

        Flashes of lightening still lit the sky and deep, muted thunder rolled in waves covering the road noise, evoking memory of another rainstorm in a place not far enough away.

        Not tonight.  I've got enough to worry about, he tried to tell his subconscious.  Why speculate on the condition of man's collective soul, if there is such a thing?

        Richard set his jaw and drove through the night dodging gloomy thoughts and morose regrets.  Finally, he settled on daydreaming his way through the interview with Laurel Senter, and trying to decide what to tell Kevin.