Hostile Witness

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 29

Hannah sat on her little stool in the sand. She had a joint but it was untouched. She had spent the night pacing the beach, the house, her room, measuring off space to pass the time until her mother came home. Josie was gone. Hannah had left a message and Josie would call. She was sure of that. Once Hannah thought she heard the phone ringing and she ran fast into the house, but it must have been her imagination. No one was on the line. She went back to the beach, and her stool, and the cold, wet night until it got too cold, and too wet. Finally she went inside, wishing she wasn't alone - until her wish came true.

Kip had come in so quietly, so unexpectedly that Hannah almost died of fright. It had been days since she'd seen him and nothing had changed: not his long face, his thinning brown hair, his white shirt and beige coat, his khaki slacks. He looked the same yet there was something different. Kip was looking right at her. He actually saw her. He had never done that before.

"Where's your mother?"

Hannah shook her head. She tried to answer and couldn't. The second time she managed a whisper.

"I don't know."

Kip didn't move. He didn't seem to be breathing but his eyes trailed over Hannah. He took in the twists and turns of her hair, the slope of her cheekbones, her lips, the cut of her t-shirt, the cleft of her breasts. Hannah's skin jumped with the prickle of nerves. Her heart beat faster even though she breathed more slowly. Maybe everything hadn't ended with Fritz's death. Maybe. . .

Kip took a step. He was leaving. No. He changed his mind. Hannah could see the vent on his coat, the flash of a heel on his shoe. She could feel him thinking. His hatred seeped through the wall. His heel was raised as if he might go forward, but then again he might fall back. She prayed for him to disappear. Instead Kip Rayburn walked right into her room. She cringed on her stool. One more step. He was standing over her, so close she could smell him. The smell of fear was on him. Hannah knew it well.

"You are a stupid little bitch. Everything would have been fine without you. Everything." Kip lowered himself, hunkering down so he could look straight at her. "The mere fact that you exist is abhorrent to me. What you did to my father turns my stomach."

"I didn't-" Hannah said.

"You didn't what? Hit him? Push him? Seduce him? Make him so much less than he was? Well," he sighed, "I think you did. But what's really sad is that, in the end, it's all my fault. I brought you into this house. I knew he was weak, and I brought you here to tempt him. You and me, we're guilty as sin. But he was my father, Hannah. Mine. And you took him away from me when he didn't really want you." Kip pointed a finger at her. His entire body vibrated with his desire to hurt her. "In fact, no one has ever wanted you, have they?"

"My mother did. My mother does," Hannah whispered.

"Really?" Kip stood up and looked around at the room. "Then where is your mother? She's not here. If she wanted you so much then why isn't she here?"

Hannah shook her head. Her lips moved with the counting. But Kip had had enough. He reached out and clamped his hands on the side of her head to stop her. He pulled her close, half off her little stool.

"Stop it. Stop it or I'll. . . ."

Just when Hannah thought he would squeeze hard enough to crush her skull they heard sounds. A door closing. Footsteps. They were paralyzed, linked together in their private little power struggle only to be suddenly reminded there was another world. Slowly Kip released her. He was pale, shaking as if surprised to find he could be so vicious, yet not really surprised at all. It ran in the family.