He shrugged. “Don’t know. There aren’t a lot of cases to study, as you might imagine. So far the worst side effect is the pain. It comes and goes. It’s nothing I can’t handle. The point is I should have died that night.
“I have a very different perspective on life now. Now, I look around me, I see what I want, I’m going to make it happen. There is no someday. We have here, now.
“I spent a lot of years buried in my career-not that I don’t love it-but I put off a lot of stuff I shouldn’t have, assuming there would be time for it later. I regret that,” he admitted. “I lost my marriage. I know my daughters like I’m a distant uncle, not their father.
“I won’t live like that anymore. You shouldn’t either,” he said. “You’ve got twenty years on me. You can skip a lot of mistakes.”
She sat facing him, one leg curled up on the sofa, the other foot on the floor. She had put on a thick sweater to ward off the chill of the evening. She wrapped it around herself now as she met his gaze, her dark eyes full of sadness.
“My mother was forty-six when she died,” she said quietly. “I never thought she would be gone so soon. I always assumed my father would go before her, and I would have her all to myself for a long, long time… I always believed she would be there for my wedding, for my children, for me… And then she was gone. Just like that.”
“Life is what happens while we’re making other plans,” Vince said.
Even from a distance, he could feel the ache in her heart. He reached out for her and whispered, “Come here.”
She came to him deliberately. Coming to him, not running from her feelings. Vince took her in his arms and lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her to offer comfort, to distract her from sad memories, to fill a lonely corner of her heart.
He kissed her slowly, deeply, savoring the taste of wine on her tongue, drinking in the feeling of her body against his. She melted into him, surrendered willingly, accepted what he had to give her, and gave back in return.
Gradually comfort gave way to desire, distraction to sharp focus and keen awareness.
Vince stroked her hair back from her face, his big hand taking in the delicate lines of her cheek, her jaw, her throat. Her breath shuddered softly as his lips followed the same path.
Her sweater fell open and his fingers found the buttons of her blouse, loosing them one by one. She gasped as his hand cupped her breast and his thumb brushed across the nipple, and gasped again as he closed his lips around the tight bud of flesh.
Anne lifted her hips to let him draw down her jeans and moaned his name as he gently opened her legs, settled his mouth against her, and kissed deeply the most feminine part of her. Her hands tangled in his hair, holding him to her, then tugging him back up to share the taste of her on his lips.
Vince shed his jacket, his gun, his clothes, never separating from her for more than a few seconds. He wanted nothing between them but flesh and desire. And when he came to her, naked, she reached out and closed her hand around him, and he thought he might die on the spot.
They made love by turns both slowly and urgently; without words, but in full communication in a language of gasps and groans and eyes locked on each other. Their bodies moved together, arched against each other, tangled and tugged and stroked. She was tight and hot and wet around him. He pushed deep, deep inside her, and they went over the edge together, reality giving way to bliss.
Afterward, they lay tangled together, sweating, panting, communicating entirely with tender looks and soft smiles and sweet kisses. Vince had worried Anne might now recall they hadn’t known each other two days ago, and would retreat into regret, but she didn’t. He certainly didn’t.
Maybe the bullet made him impulsive. Maybe a year ago he wouldn’t have pressed her so hard, so soon. But he sure as hell didn’t regret it. He hadn’t felt anything so satisfying and right in a long time.
Her hair was damp against her cheek. He brushed it back and kissed her softly. She brought her hand up and touched his face. Her small foot slowly rubbed up and down the back of his calf.
“That was highly improper of you,” she whispered, eyes sparkling. They shared a soft chuckle and a softer kiss.
“You’re so beautiful, Anne,” he whispered. “So special.”
He drew breath to say something more, but the sound of his pager bleating broke the spell.
Swearing under his breath, he reached over the side of the sofa to grab his jacket. Pulling the pager out of the pocket, he hit the display button and swore again.
“Mendez.” He looked down at Anne and sighed. “I’m sorry, honey. I have to take this.”
“It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not,” he growled. “I want to hold you all night long. I want to make love to you again… and again.”
She smiled at him in a way that was knowing and sexy and absolutely female, and he felt himself getting heavy and hot.
The pager trilled again.
“Duty calls,” she said.
“Can I use your phone?”
“In the kitchen.”
Reluctantly, he got up off the sofa and pulled on his clothes. Anne sat up and drew her heavy sweater around herself, curling her bare legs beneath her. She tucked her hair behind her ear and gave him that little half smile that quickened his heart a beat. He contemplated throwing his pager into the neighbor’s yard when it went off a third time.
He went into the kitchen, found the phone, and dialed Mendez back.
“What?” he said impatiently by way of a greeting.
“Did I interrupt something?”
“This had better be good.”
“It’s good,” Mendez promised. “I just got a Telex from Oxnard PD. Julie Paulson’s last arrest for prostitution happened in a vice sweep. Guess who else got caught in the net?”
“Who?”
“Peter Crane.”
47
He watched from the oleander bushes to one side of the backyard. From his angle he was able to see right onto the back porch. He was able to see where they sat down. He was able to see everything.
He watched them kiss. He watched the man take her pants off, watched him go down between her legs to eat her pussy. He watched the man take his clothes off, get on top of her, and fuck her.
She let him. She let him do all of that. And she liked it. He could hear the sounds she made.
She was supposed to be perfect. The perfect teacher. The perfect example. The perfect woman. But she was just another whore…
48
“Someone has some ’splainin’ to do,” Mendez said as Vince got into the car.
“Yeah. I wouldn’t want to be in Dr. Crane’s shoes.”
Mendez gave him a look. “I wasn’t talking about the dentist.”
Leone scowled a bit and made no eye contact. He had the grace to look a little embarrassed at least.
“Just how did you end up here with no car?” he asked, pulling away from the curb in front of Anne Navarre’s home. “And why did it take three pages before you called me back?”
“I saw Miss Navarre home from the vigil downtown, and none of your goddamn business,” Vince answered, a big self-satisfied grin splitting his face.
Mendez groaned. “I don’t want to know.”
“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, junior.”
“You just did,” Mendez groused. Damn, the man moved fast. He had homed in on Anne Navarre like a fucking heat-seeking missile. And she had clearly welcomed him. “You’re a dog.”
“No,” he said, dead serious. His expression held a hint of warning. “No.”
Mendez raised his eyebrows. “Okay.”
“Tell me about the dentist.”
“So the Telex came in, then I called Oxnard PD and talked to one of the detectives there. They were running a series of sweeps for drugs and prostitution. This would have been fall eighty-three. Nothing fancy, just normal street sweeps. Round ’em up and herd ’em into the paddy wagon kind of thing.”