Dark Rivers of the Heart

mercy.
        Except for her single perfect feature, she was an evil woman.
        But after Roy had fulfilled his duty, he would take her eyes. He deserved them. For too brief a time, those enchanting eyes would bring him desperately needed solace in a world that was sometimes too cruel and cold to bear, even for someone with an attitude as positive as that which he cultivated.
        By the time Spencer was able to make it to the front door of the apartment with Rocky in his arms (the dog might not have left under his own power), Theda filled a plastic bag with the remaining ten chocolate-chip cookies from the plate beside the armchair, and she insisted that he take them. She also toddled into the kitchen and returned with a homemade blueberry muffin in a small brown paper bag-and then made another trip to bring him two slices of lemon-coconut cake in a Tupperware container.
        Spencer protested only the cake, because he wouldn't be able to return the container to her.
        "Nonsense," she said. "You don't need to return it. I've got enough Tupperware to last two lifetimes. For years I collected and collected it, because you can keep just anything in Tupperware, it has so many uses, but enough is enough, and I have more than enough, so just enjoy the cake and throw the container away. Enjoy!"
        In addition to all the edible treats, Spencer had acquired two pieces of information about Hannah-Valerie. The first was Theda's story about the portrait of the cockroach on the wall of Hannah's bedroom, but he still didn't know what to make of that. The second concerned something that Theda remembered Hannah saying during idle dinner conversation one evening shortly before packing up her things and dusting Vegas off her heels. They had been discussing places in which they had always dreamed of living, and although Theda couldn't make up her mind between Hawaii and England, Hannah had been adamant that only the small coastal town of Carmel, California, had all the peace and beauty that anyone could ever desire.
        Spencer supposed that Carmel was a long shot, but at the moment it was the best lead he had. On one hand, she hadn't gone straight there from Las Vegas; she had stopped in the Los Angeles metropolitan area and tried to make a life as Valerie Keene. On the other hand, perhaps now, after her mysterious enemies had found her twice in large cities, she would decide to see if they could locate her as easily in a far smaller community.
        Theda had not informed the band of loud, rude, window-shattering nitwits about Hannah's mention of Carmel. Maybe that gave Spencer an advantage.
        He was loath to leave her alone with the memories of her beloved husband, long-mourned children, and vanished friend. Nevertheless, thanking her effusively, he stepped across the threshold onto the balcony and walked to the stairs that led down into the courtyard.
        The mottled gray-black sky and the blustery wind surprised him, for when he had been in Theda world, he had all but forgotten that anything else existed beyond its walls. The crowns of the palms still thrashed, and the air was chiller than before.
        Carrying a seventy-pound dog, a plastic bag full of cookies, a blueberry muffin in a paper sack, and a Tupperware container heavy with cake, he found the stairs precarious. He lugged Rocky all the way to the bottom, however, because he was certain that the dog would race straight back to Theda world if put down on the balcony.
        When Spencer finally released the mutt, Rocky turned and gazed longingly up the stairs toward that little piece of canine heaven.
        "Time to plunge back into reality," Spencer said.
        The dog whined.
        Spencer walked toward the front of the complex, under the windwhipped trees. Halfway past the swimming pool he looked back.
        Rocky was still at the stairs.
        "Hey, pal."
        Rocky looked at him.
        "Whose hound are you anyway?"
        An expression of doggy guilt overcame the mutt, and at last he padded toward Spencer.
        "Lassie would never leave Timmy, even for God's own grandmother."
        Rocky sneezed, sneezed, and sneezed again at the pungent scent of chlorine.
        "What if," Spencer said as the dog caught up to him, "I'd been trapped here, under an overturned tractor, unable to save myself, or maybe cornered by an angry bear?"
        Rocky whined as if in