Kelsey meets my eyes and is almost smiling at the banter. "You carry a camera for a living."
"Sure," I allow. "But it’ll hurt a lot more when I swing it at that bastard. A tongue depressor is fucking worthless."
"I wouldn’t say worthless," she replies with a leer.
I do not want to know. But at least she’s joking around now. I hope she’s joking, anyway. Tongue depressor?
"You think it’s a guy?" she asks instead, when she realizes I’m not rising to her bait.
We talked about this after the first flowers arrived, I remember vaguely. "I feel like it is," I admit. "I don’t know why."
She nods slowly but doesn’t comment.
"What other gifts have you received? Anything else like this?"
"No." She stands up and stretches her arms above her head. I try hard not to focus on how that accentuates her assets. "Flowers. Stuffed animals. Box of chocolates."
"Did you eat them?"
She pauses a long time to lay a killer look on me. "I’m not a fucking moron, Harper."
Right. "Where is the rest of the stuff?"
"I think I still have one of the bears. It’s at the condo. Everything else is gone."
We watch each other for a long moment. She seems calmer; she’s not shaking anymore at any rate. "Tell ya what, I’ll come get the bear tonight and go chat with my friends." I needed a night at The Rio anyway. When I’m out, I spend less time picturing Kelsey and my clone in a naked embrace.
"Okay."
"Are you afraid, Kels?"
She waves me off. "Nah, I’m sure it’s nothing." She’s lying. We both know it, but it’ll do little good to call her on it.
Without thinking, I rise and cross to her, pulling her into a hug. We haven’t touched like this since Omaha but I remember it providing her comfort then. I want it to now. She stiffens briefly before relaxing and putting her arms around my waist. I lay my cheek against her golden head. "I promise you, I won’t let anyone hurt you."
"I know," she whispers. "I believe you."
Then the moment is gone and she’s pulling away from me. The walls go back up and she turns into Ms. Professional. I don’t like Ms. Professional very much but I have a lot of respect for her. "So what did you call me back here for?"
Gary’s there when I walk in. He’s always there. He needs a life.
I called Justin and Bear and asked them to meet me. It’s not poker night so there was no guarantee I’d run into them. A quick glance tells me they haven’t arrived yet.
I claim a stool to Gary’s right, reaching over the bar to grab a cherry and popping it into my mouth. The bartender slaps me but it’s more of a game than an admonishment.
"Whiskey?" he asks.
"Beer. Anything dark on tap." I haven’t been able to drink whiskey since Omaha. I had it once the first week back and only remembered the flavor of it on Kelsey’s tongue. God, what I wouldn’t do to taste that again. I wonder if the rest of her tastes as sweet. I know it does.
"How’s it going?" Gary interrupts my less-than-chaste thoughts. That’s for the best, anyway. Lusting after Kelsey gets me nowhere but frustrated. And I don’t want to take someone home tonight.
I place a ten inch blue teddy bear on the bar, pulling it from where I’d stuffed it under my leather jacket.
Gary looks at quizzically, then looks to me. "You’ve had better dates. Rough week?"
Oh, he’s a laugh a minute, the asshole. "Mean anything to you?"
"Should it?"
I shrug. "Friend of mine has been getting weird things from a secret admirer. This was one of ‘em."
"Not so weird," he replies as I take a drink of the beer that’s been placed in front of me. "You know, Harper, sometimes people court and woo a potential date. Not everyone just crooks a finger and finds something naked and willing in their laps."
I smirk. "Well, if it works-"
"Don’t knock it," he finishes. "No shit about that," he shakes his head in admiration.
"Today’s gift was a box of dead roses and a creepy note."
This gets Gary’s attention and he sets his beer down with an audible thump. Just then Justin and Bear arrive. I recap for them, pointing out the blue teddy bear with the silly grin.
"Who is your friend?" Justin asks while flagging down the bartender.
I hesitate for a moment. It’s absurd to want to protect her identity, I know it’s safe with these men just as their poker table secrets have been safe with me. "Kelsey Stanton."
Gary stops and stares at me, the peanut he’d been tossing into his mouth bouncing off his cheek. "You’re shitting me."
"No."
"She’s public enough that this could be anybody, Harper," Justin replies.
Thanks, pal. "I know."
"She’s so cold. No wonder the bear is blue." Gary should have figured out by now that type of comment is off limits. The glare I give him is not a gentle reminder.
"Do you have the note?" Bear asks, diverting my attention.
I pull it out of my jeans pocket and hand it to him. It’s in a plastic baggie, not that I expect there to be anything as helpful as prints on it. I watch the large man’s jaw work and it worries me.
"Can I keep this?"
"Yeah."
"Will she talk to the police?"
"She will," I nod. "But she’s a little spooked. She’s kind of shrugging it off as nothing, but those dead roses were left in her car. She’s been getting gifts at work and home. This guy is persistent."
"Does she have any of the other gifts?" Bear is much more interested than our companions. Of course, it makes sense given his job.
"Only the bear and the roses. I didn’t bring the roses but they’re in my office. I can get them to you tomorrow."
"I’d like them," he says seriously.
He’s worrying me. I left Kelsey’s building as Susan was coming in, but I don’t trust the doctor to keep my partner safe. Distracted, maybe. But not safe. I glance to the other two and they seem to have lost interest; they’re watching a Baywatch rerun on the bar’s television. They’re men; I excuse them for a short attention span.
"Walk with me?" I ask Bear and he nods, pushing his beer further onto the counter and following me out the door into the warm, dark night.
"What the fuck is going on, Bear?" I ask when we’re alone, well, except for Snake. The mountainous bouncer gives us a gap-toothed smile as we come out. "I thought she should be concerned but I didn’t think you’d react like this."
He sighs and seems to consider his response. "You know that case I’m working on, the rapes and murders?"
"Yeah?"
"One of the women, the second one, had a handwritten note at the scene. It was gibberish: street names and off comments. We think he wrote it while he was following her."
"And?" I don’t like where this is going.
"Look, I’m no handwriting expert. And it’s not even in the same color ink or on the same paper, but there’s something about this note your friend got that rubs me the wrong way. I’d like to have our analyst look at it."
"Bullshit, Bear," I laugh sharply. "This is someone jealous of her and Erik. Someone who saw her when she was an anchor and watches our special reports. He’s off balanced, yeah, but not a rapist. Not a murderer." Am I convincing him or myself?
He chuckles softly and nods. "You’re probably right, Harper. I’m paranoid. Those scenes ... the women … it really is brutal. I want to catch this guy and I think I see clues everywhere. Let me run this note. I’m sure it’s not even related. But we’ll both sleep better, right?"
"Well, I will, but I bet you hope it’s him." I’m no fool. I know Bear would piss himself to have one of the killer’s potential victims under his watch.
Bear stops strolling back to the bar and looks at me. His large face softens and is oddly expressive. "Harper, I hope it’s not him. I wouldn’t want your friend to be associated with this guy."