Blood and Oranges by James Goldsborough (top 50 books to read .TXT) 📕

“When the sperm comes, you mean?”

The two officers looked at each other, expressionless, professional, keeping it in. “Yes, Maggie,” said the older one, “when the sperm comes. Did you see it?”

She wondered if they could hear outside. “I did not.”

“Did he molest you?”

“He did not.”

“Did you have intercourse with him?”

“I did not!”

“Is that why you were speeding? Because you were mad at him for what he did to you—or tried to do?” The voices were louder now.

“He didn’t do anything to me—and who said I was speeding?”

“Why did you lose control of the car?”

Of course, she was speeding, going at least sixty coming out of the Culver ESS but they didn’t need to know that. But lose control? Even at fourteen, she was a good driver. She was ready to race that car. She had no idea why it happened. Had Billy done something as they drove? She couldn’t remember. And her pretty red Ford: she knew it was a total wreck.

Her head dropped: “I don’t know. A tire maybe?”

“No,” said the younger man. “It wasn’t a tire.”

The older man nodded. “That’s all for now, Maggie. Thank you for your cooperation.” They walked to the screen to join Dr. Lambert but did not leave the room.

Why did they have to let the Todds come? Nelly came over and took her hand, followed by Lizzie, who then moved to the window and took out her notebook. Eddie hung back, but Mrs. Todd, who looked a wreck, came right up to her and blurted, “what were you doing driving a car? You are a child.” Mrs. Todd knew about the deal because she and Nelly had discussed it. Mr. Todd stood nearby, haggard and quiet, but Mrs. Todd seemed close to hysterics.

“Just tell us what happened, Maggie,” said Mr. Todd. “As best you remember. It is important to us.”

She couldn’t do that, could she? She couldn’t tell them that they went up into the hills so Billy could feel her breasts and that the last time he’d brought out his penis and she’d seen it spurting. At least they hadn’t overheard the detectives. “I can’t remember,” she said. “He tried to kiss me and I pushed him away. That’s all I remember.”

“YOU ARE LYING!” shouted Mrs. Todd, so loudly that Dr. Lambert took a step forward.

Through all this Maggie was aware that her father stood off away from the others, sometimes watching her, sometimes looking around the room. She could tell he wanted to check his watch but didn’t want to be seen doing it. For some reason she found that funny. Did he even care what had happened? She could not read him. She could read her mother, in control as always, letting others take charge in every situation because she hated dramas, but her father, finally peeking at his watch, showed nothing. How he wanted out of there! Where was Cal, she wondered. Why wasn’t he here? They hadn’t told him, that’s why. She could have used a hug and a kiss at that moment, from anyone, even on the stitches, but everyone hung back. Cal wouldn’t have.

“Kitty, Kitty, please,” Nelly, finally said, stepping forward to put an arm around Mrs. Todd and having it shoved away.

“This is your fault!” she shouted at Nelly. “You arranged this because you were too lazy to drive her yourself—so you could play bridge!”

Kitty was not in Nelly’s bridge group.

At that, the police slipped out. Good, Maggie thought. She wanted to get up, but not with a crowd around and the loose strings on the smock and hysterical Mrs. Todd standing over her. She needed to say something and felt she should probably be crying, but her eyes were too sore to produce tears.

“Mrs. Todd, I’ve told you all I can,” she said, without lying. “What Billy did upset me and I was driving home and lost control of the car. It could have been me instead of him, and I’m sure you wish it was . . .”

“What Billy did . . ?”

“Come, Kitty,” said Mr. Todd. “You know we have things to do.” He turned to Eddie. “Terrible for all of us.” His voice trailed off. “Our only son, you know. He would have come into practice with me.”

Eddie nodded, the two men shook hands and Mr. Todd left with his arm around his wife.

During all this Lizzie sat on the windowsill, quietly writing.

“So what happened, Mag?” said Eddie. “What did he try to do to you?”

“Just get me out of here, will you, Dad? Mother, find where they put my clothes.”

“Those clothes are gone dear, the blouse was ripped, you know. We’ve brought you some fresh ones.”

Chapter 10

Eddie was in a hurry to leave because he had important things to do. Maggie was beat up, but he knew his kid; she’d be on her feet before the day was out. Too bad about the other kid, but he had his own problems. He left the hospital in his black Buick and headed down Colorado Avenue past Mull Enterprises to the Santa Monica pier. He walked halfway out the pier to a large heavy-lettered sign: PROVIDENCE WATER TAXIS. He showed his pass and descended the gangway to a canvas-covered launch belonging to a fleet making half-hourly runs to the ship Providence, anchored three miles out in Santa Monica Bay.

The Providence never closed, and the launch, a forty-footer seating fifty, was already near full at 11 a.m. The boat swayed gently in a calm sea. Eddie nodded to the boatman who shoved off. He had the night’s proceeds to collect, deposit at the Santa Monica branch of Security Trust and Savings and arrive for an appointment with his brother at Mull Enterprises at noon.

The end of Prohibition had been painful. For a few golden years, Eddie Mull had done as well as anyone in Los Angeles, maybe not grossing as much as he once did, but still flush with cash. His core businesses, oil and real estate,