Big Lies in a Small Town - Diane Chamberlain Page 0,104

Jesse Williams, and I thought I could guess. Had there been more between Anna and Jesse than a work relationship? There was only one person alive who might know. I thought of how Mama Nelle pressed a finger to her lips when I talked to her about Anna. “You know you got to be quiet about her, right?” she’d asked me. Was this why? Were Anna and Jesse closer than artist and apprentice? I would invite Mama Nelle to the gallery, I decided. I’d show her the mural up close and personal, and pick her brain at the same time.

Chapter 46

ANNA

March 21, 1940

Anna awakened in the darkness of the warehouse, confused. Was she in Pauline’s bedroom? No. Her hand felt the rough fabric of the cot beneath her. She squeezed her eyes closed, concentrating, trying to remember. She’d eaten a bowl of cold leftover stew she’d brought with her from Miss Myrtle’s. Yes. And then she’d gone back to the mural. So close to being done, yet as driven as ever. She’d painted the fine lines of the netting on the fishing vessel. Made a mistake. Painted them over. And over. She’d pulled the lamp closer. Stood on the third rung of the ladder to reach the upper left corner of the mural. She hadn’t been able to space the lines of the netting evenly. No one would notice, but she would know. She’d been working too long. She’d had no nap today and she’d noticed that her hand had a little tremor. She’d decided to lie down for a few minutes. Yes, it was all coming back to her. She’d stretched out on the cot. Pulled the quilt over her. Now she had no idea what time it was.

She should get up. Work on the ship’s netting some more, or better yet, go back to Miss Myrtle’s for a good night’s sleep and return in the morning when her mind would be fresh.

She heard the sound. Was that what had awakened her? A scuffling sound. She lay still, listening. Scuff. Scuff. Suddenly the floor lamp clicked on and she sat up, the cot creaking beneath her.

Martin. Walking toward her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

He didn’t answer. She didn’t feel fear. Not exactly. Not yet. She was more angry over his brazenness. The lamplight caught the greasy tangles of his red hair. His eyes were circled by darkness. “Martin?” She lifted the edge of the quilt to her chest, as if she’d forgotten she was still fully dressed in blouse and slacks. “Why are you here?” she asked again.

She could smell his whiskey breath as he moved closer, yet she still didn’t feel afraid. Not until she saw what he was doing: unbuckling his pants. Oh God.

Suddenly, before she had a chance to get to her feet, he was on her. She screamed. She felt the cot give way and heard the splintering of one of the legs echo through the building. She was tilted toward the ground, headfirst, Martin’s weight on her. He smelled of sweat and booze and dirty hair. Anna tried to scramble out from under him, but he held her pinned beneath him. He was a thousand times stronger than she was.

She clutched his arms. Dug her fingernails into the skin through his shirt. “Think of your wife,” she pleaded. “Think of your daughters.” Please don’t do this. Please don’t hurt me. Was she begging him out loud? What did it matter? Her words were useless. The smell of him was all over her. Up inside her head. She felt the hardness of him press against her. He got to his knees and started yanking off her pants, and she took that chance to fight him. She tried to kick him, but by then, her pants were halfway down her legs, trapping her. “Stop it stop it stop it!” she screamed. She clawed his face and he slapped her, hard, harder than he’d slapped his wife.

“Shut the hell up!” he shouted. “You fucking wrecked my life! Shut up!” He yanked off her pants. She yelped, trying to sit up, trying to grab his hands, but he pushed her down again, his own hand at her throat, tight, pressing, making her struggle for air. His strength overwhelmed her, his body no longer flesh and blood but concrete and steel, and she knew he was going to kill her.

“Think you’re so special ’cause you won a fucking contest!” His spit sprayed against her cheeks. “A fucking imbecilic