Выбрать главу

When I rolled past Chuck's '67 Jag to pull into the driveway,

I gave him my best come-hither look.  I placed both feet on the ground

before stepping out of the car.  Slinkier than my normal spread-eagle

hoist.

I bent purposefully and ever so seductively at the waist to reach my

suit jacket in the passenger seat and then flicked it over my shoulder,

one New Balance thrusting to the side with a determined hip.  I parted

my lips and let my tongue linger at the break before I spoke.  "You

coming in with me or not?"

He returned my blistering gaze.  Then he started laughing.  A full-on,

eyes shut, hands-to-the-face bust-up.

I fought competing urges to run away and cry, or to punch him in the

head and then run away.  "That wasn't the response I was looking

for."

He tried to regain his composure but couldn't help himself.  "I'm

sorry.  But I just left you fifteen minutes ago at the precinct.  What

the hell happened to you?"

I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the driver s window.  The

combination of the air vents, my sweaty head, and that damn mud Grace

had given me had left my hair in a state of Rocky Horror.  Throw in the

white Altoid powder sprinkled across my clothing, and I was totally

pathetic.  I draped my jacket over my arm, pulled in my thrusted hip,

and tried to explain.

"I was running to my car and got a little warm and "

What was this?  Maybe Grace was right when she said I didn't understand

men, because this one was racing up my walkway steps, straight toward

me, and he wasn't laughing.

I ran ahead of him into the house and let him catch me at the end of my

upstairs hallway.  Just outside the bedroom.

If there is a mathematical formula to calculate sex maybe intensity

times duration then the next hour could very well have brought us back

to par despite the two-week break.

Six.

I see Clarissa Easterbrook in a pink silk sweater on Taylor's Ferry

Road, holding Griffey by his leash.  A man in an ankle-length duster

and brown leather hat has stopped to pet the dog.  The man asks if she

has seen the view of Mount Hood and begins to lead her to a crest

through a clearing in the trees.

He reaches his hand out behind him to guide her, but now it's my hand

he grasps.  When he turns his head to smile down at my trusting face, I

recognize Tim O'Donnell.  My expression changes from confusion to

shock, as I open my mouth to scream for help.

"Babe, wake up, what's wrong?"

My right elbow flew out instinctively, and Chuck bolted upright,

holding his ribs where I jabbed him.

"Oh, God, are you OK?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said.  "You just took me by surprise."

"I guess we fell asleep."

"You fell asleep.  I watched."

"That's more than a little disturbing."

"Tell me about it.  Your hair's even worse than it was when we started;

you snore; and a spindle of drool was working its way from your lip to

the mattress."

"I'm really going to hurt you this time," I said, reaching over and

poking my fingers into his side.

With one swift move, he had my hands above my head.  "Stop it, I was

kidding.  You weren't drooling, you don't snore, and your hair well,

you're cute as hell, Kincaid."  He gave me a kiss and let me go.  "I

woke you up because you looked like you were having another one of

those dreams.  I've seen cops after a shooting, and it can take a long

time to get over."

"I'm over it.  Just one of those weird naked-in-front-of-the-classroom

dreams."

"Was I there?"

"No, that'd be one of your dreams.  I hate to kick you out of bed,

stud, but I really need to get a move on.  I promised Dad that Vinnie

and I would come over for dinner tonight, and I can't show up with bed

head."

"That poor impersonation of a dog over there is invited, but I'm

not?"

Vinnie was spread out like a bear rug in the hall, still looking

annoyed that he'd been locked out of the bedroom during playtime.

Vinnie's got bug eyes, bat ears, and a face that looks like it was

flattened by a steel plate.  I couldn't tell if the snort he emitted

was in response to Chuck's comment or just one of his everyday

snorts.

"When your date's a French bulldog, you can talk about boring family

stuff without being rude," I said.

"I don't mind if you talk about your boring family.  I just want to be

fed."

I did feel guilty running out on him, and Dad would enjoy seeing Chuck.

"Fine.  But I need some time alone with Dad.  Give me an hour's head

start, and we'll have dinner on the table right when you get there."

The last thing I needed post-vacation was one of the bricks of beef my

father feeds me whenever he cooks, so I had e-mailed a list of

ingredients in the morning and promised to cook if he'd pick them up.

New to computers, he was still so impressed by the technology that he

didn't even complain about the menu.

"You look great," I said, adjusting the collar on the blue shirt I'd

given him for his most recent birthday.  He had complained that it was

too young for him, but it brought out the blue in his eyes and the

silver of his hair.  "You didn't have any problems printing out the

shopping list?"

"I've turned into a real computer whiz since you left."  I had helped

him hook up his Dell right before my trip.  "It's so easy I was even

thinking of telling Al to get one."

Al Fontana is my dad's ninety-year-old neighbor and checker partner.

He's also a dirty old man.

"Dad, you put that man on the Internet, and he'll be dead in a month

from Viagra and porn."

Point taken.

It wasn't long before Dad got to the heart of things.  Apparently I

wasn't the only one who spent the day uncomfortable with where we left

things the night before.  "I know we talked about this, but I want to

tell you in person that I'm sorry I got you so upset last night."

"You're making me feel worse.  I was a total jerk."

"Fine, let's put last night behind us, and I won't make any apologies.

What I'm trying to say is that I'll try not to let my own hang-ups get

in the way "

"Dad, you don't have any hang-ups "

"Please, Sammy, let me finish.  All I was saying was that this woman

was surrounded by powerful people.  I may not have stuck it out as a

cop, but I saw enough to know you'll be looking long and hard at

everything she was involved in.  If you wind up stumbling onto

something, they'll make your life a living hell."

So that's what this had been about.  Dad wasn't afraid I'd get chased