Greywalker - Kat Richardson [47]
“Did you ever read The Story of O?” she asked.
“No,” I admitted, “but I know about it.”
Chaos decided it was nap time and jumped down into Sarah’s lap. Sarah stroked her warm, furry body while we talked. Bit by bit, stroking the trusting little creature in her lap, Sarah calmed.
“Sometimes I felt like I was O, but it wasn’t quite the same. It’s so hard to remember. . . . He used to tie me up and leave me that way all day, he made me sleep in a box . . . things like that. He had the role of Master, but I wasn’t really Slave. I was more like . . . Plaything, or Toy. It was like living in a Fellini film. I was so relieved to get out, but sometimes, I—I almost miss it. God, am I some kind of sick puppy or what?”
She raised her head and gave me a wavering smile. Any smile was more than I had expected.
I had my notebook out. “What was the man’s name?”
“Name? I can’t remember his last name. Maybe I never knew it. His first name was Edward. That’s all I can remember.”
“Did he give you drugs?”
“No. That’s one of the funny things about it. He absolutely would not let me take any drugs—not even pot or aspirin—only a little wine or tea once in a while. Maybe he was doctoring the tea? I don’t know why the details are so fuzzy. Maybe I just want to forget it, so I do.”
“Can you remember any details about Edward himself ? Where he lived, what he did for a living? Physical description?”
“I never knew where he worked. He was gone all day and came home at night—if he came home—and that was when things would happen. I slept during the day a lot, too. I stayed in a condo downtown. One of those fancy buildings with a doorman near the Paramount Theater.”
“You remember the address?”
She rattled it off. “But I think it’s leased by a corporation. I can’t remember why I think that. . . . Maybe Edward told me.” She shook her head. “It’s hard to remember stuff about that time.”
“It’s all right. I can find out. What does Edward look like?”
“He looks like James Bond.”
“Excuse me? He looks like Sean Connery?”
“Not Connery. The new one. Sort of, but not quite. I think his hair is thicker and his face is thinner and he’s a lot scarier. But, you know, that dark-haired, movie-star look, only cruel.”
I made a note. I couldn’t believe I might be looking for a Pierce Brosnan look-alike. Crazy. “You don’t know what he does for a living, but what was his lifestyle like? Did he seem to have money? Did he ever say anything about family or where he was from? Did he have an accent? Anything like that?”
“No. He just sounded rich and American. You know that super-clean, no-accent voice? He had that. Always sounded so cold and remote . . .” Sarah shuddered, then shook herself and resettled.
Her voice was clear and calm when she continued. “I don’t think he had a family, though he had a lot of friends who were all as creepy as him. He did seem to have a lot of money and a lot of people who hung around him—I think they were kind of scared of him, or, like, his employees or something. Really subservient. Total pack behavior. Edward is definitely the top dog. I think he’s from Seattle, though, because sometimes his friends would talk about stuff that happened around here when I was a little kid or before I was born, like they saw it. Like the World’s Fair and stuff like that.”
“Well, if he’s a local boy and he has connections to a local corporation that leases that condo, I’ll find him. What do you think Cameron did to get you away from Edward?”
“I’m not sure. I think it took a while. I think they met a bunch of times before he let me go.”
“Edward, you mean?”
She nodded. “Uh-huh. I think, at first, Cameron tried to frighten him, or pressure him somehow, blackmail, sort of. You know, ‘Leave my sister alone or I’ll sic the cops on you.