He shut the door behind me. I waited a moment, then followed him into the living room. He was setting up his makeshift bed on his sofa.
"You didn't pass the lie-detector test, did you?"
"I passed." He continued to spread out the sheets. "But that doesn't mean my troubles are over. Because the fat lady sure ain't singing."
I was quiet.
He tucked his sheet in between the pillows and the frame of the couch. "That's an expression "
"I know that. Why are you still in trouble?"
"I don't want to talk about it. Go to sleep."
I didn't move.
He softened his voice. "Please, Terry."
I said, "You can sleep with me in the bed if you want."
"I don't want."
"I mean just sleep. Why should I displace you?... Or I'll sleep on the couch."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Terry, just get the fuck out of here."
Although I was hurt, I shrugged and walked back to his bed. Since I was dressed in the Seattle grunge layered look, I had no trouble finding something to sleep in. I disrobed, stripping down to my underpants and T-shirt, then slipped between his sheets. They smelled wonderful... smelled like him. I curled into a ball, closed my eyes, and listened to the muffled thud of his footsteps. I was just about asleep when his clops grew rhythmic and louder. The door opened, a sliver of light quickly turned into a wedge. The door shut and once again I 166
was encased in darkness. He came to the bed and sat on the edge, feeling for my hand. When he found it, he gave me a gentle squeeze.
"I'm sorry," he said.
I said, "You break into my house less than twelve hours ago ... beaten down ... desperate for understanding. You tell me your innermost secrets, telling me you love me ... goading me to care for you. Then when I show concern, you reject me."
Silence.
I said, "Christopher, why did you come to my house?"
"To tell you I couldn't see you anymore."
"If you wanted me to stay away from you, you shouldn't have come at all. I was scared of you. I wouldn't have gone near you. But after we talked, I felt for you. Now I feel foolish."
Again, the room was quiet.
"You're right," Chris said. "I shouldn't have come to see you. I told you I was selfish. I just wanted to see you one last time." He paused. "I can't believe you actually feel something toward me. I don't deserve..."
His words faded in the air. I opened the covers. He hesitated, then slid inside. His shoes were off, but he was still fully clothed. He embraced me, seemingly oblivious to my scant dress except there was a bulge in his pants.
"Tell me what happened with the police," I said.
He spoke softly. "The cop's clever. He ... twisted some of my words, threw me off balance. I said some things I shouldn't have."
"Like what?"
"The specifics aren't important. What is important is the distortions. My own words can make me look bad."
"But they didn't arrest you, did they?"
He shook his head.
"Obviously they don't have any evidence against you."
"No, not yet." Chris paused. "Maybe it would be better if they did. Get me away from my uncle. He's livid. Pissed beyond belief. I'm fucked!"
He laughed but it was born from despair.
"I just got a sudden insight. When I shot my father, I pulled the right trigger but aimed it at the wrong head "
"Don't talk that way!"
He blew out air, but said nothing. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could discern the outlines of Chris's face. We locked eyes for a moment. Then he closed his lids and we kissed. Soft and magical. His hands went under my T-shirt, which he eventually slipped over 167
my head. He caressed me, his breathing slow and steady. He took off his own T-shirt, leaving his crucifix around his neck. He undid his pants, removed them in one swift motion, then wrapped his legs around my hips. When I went for the last article of encumbrance, he jerked away and sat up.
"What the fuck am I doing?" He was panting. "I can't sleep with you, Terry. God knows I want to, but I can't. I can lie to anyone you, Lorraine, Cheryl, the police... I can even lie to my own body well enough to pass a test. But I can't lie to Joey. He reads me too well."
He held his head.
"My uncle is crazed, not because of Cheryl but because he knows I'm in love with someone else. He's worried someone'll take me away from Lorraine. Course I've denied everything. But if my uncle finds out about you.. . Terry, he's a vicious, vicious man. You've got to get out of here. Let me get dressed and get my tail off you "
"No."
"Terry "
"No!" I pulled him back down and drew him to me, my hands passing over the rises and falls of his chest, playing with the chain of his crucifix. "I'm not a typical grungie, Chris. I'm not enamored of death. But it doesn't scare me."
"That's because you've never seen death up close."
"Not only have I seen it, I've caused it."
He stared at me. "Teresa, you couldn't seriously be blaming yourself for your mother's death."
"No, that's my father's department."
I broke into tears.
"Christ..." He embraced me, rocked me. "You want me to pop him for you? I'm good at popping fathers."
I talked through my tears. "Stop it."
"I'm serious. I'd pop anyone for you."
"I'm not interested in ... popping my father, okay?"
"Whatever you want. I always said I was your pit bull. I'm a very loyal person. Beyond the point of logic."
"I'm not afraid of your uncle."
"That's because you don't know him. Luckily, I do. Nothing's going to happen to you ... if nothing happens between us."
"You mean like sex?"
"I mean like sex. I'm going back to the couch now "
"Since when is kissing sex?" 168
"No, Terry, kissing isn't sex. But it leads to sex. I don't trust myself."
"I trust myself." I traced the outline of his hips with my fingers. "You say no sex, it's no sex. I'll stop you."
"It's not that simple. In the heat of the moment "
"I had a lot of heated moments with Daniel," I interrupted. "But we never did it. Because when I say no, I mean no."
He paused. "Why? What'd you do with Reiss?"
I threw my leg over his waist and pushed his hips against mine. "Stuff."
"Like what?"
"Stuff in the backseat of his car... in the dark... we'd kiss ... we'd touch."
There was a short pause. Chris said, "Tell me more."
I kissed his mouth softly. "Sometimes ... sometimes we'd take our clothes off. Daniel kept a blanket in his car... we'd get under the blanket." I slipped my fingers underneath the elastic of his underpants. "We'd touch each other."
His breathing grew stronger, purposeful. I'd heard those sounds many times in the past.
"And?" he asked.
"Sometimes I'd let him rub against me ... until he climaxed ... and sometimes ... sometimes I climaxed, too."
He was quiet, his eyes boring into mine.
"You're shocked," I said.
"Surprised." Gently, he began to rock against me. "He came on you?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
I placed his hand between my groin and my inner thigh. "Around there."
"He wore a glove?"
"No. Why should he?"
"Semen's a liquid. Accidents happen."
"Well, they didn't."
"And you came, too."
"Yes."
"You're sure?"
I stared at him. "Yes, I'm sure. Why do you doubt me?"
"Just that..." His eyes took in mine. "Some girls think it's the real thing... but it isn't." 169
"Well, I know the real thing."
"You've done it to yourself?"
"Don't be too subtle, Chris."
He turned silent.
"Yes, I've done it to myself. So I know w
hat it feels like. And it happened with Daniel. Not only once, but lots of times. And spare me your wounded look. Compared to your crowd, we did pretty minor stuff."
"It's not a peck on the cheek, Terry."
"But it's not sex."
He stopped moving and thought a moment. "No, it's not sex." He raised his brow. "But it's pretty damn close. Certainly sounds a lot more intimate than what Cheryl and I were doing."
"That might be. We were both sober."
"Thank you, Terry. After today, I really needed another knife in my heart."
"You're jealous "
"Hell, yeah, Via jealous! It killed me when you started dating Reiss. I wanted to strangle the little bastard."
"Never seemed to bother you when I dated Bull."
"You despised Bull. You were like ... in pain ... every time the jerk tried to touch you. No one could figure it out. Course I knew what you were doing. Using him to get to me." His eyes lifted to the ceiling. "Jesus, I can't believe you and Daniel... Reiss must have been good, huh?"
"No, I was good, huh?"
His laugh was full and genuine. "God, I'm an idiot."
"No, just a pig." I grew serious. "Actually, I must be the idiot to come here... knowing what you're accused of. You've been deliberately vague with me, Christopher. I've thought back to our conversation this afternoon. I've replayed it in my head a thousand times. You've never, ever, explicitly told me yes or no."
"You've never, ever, explicitly asked me. So ask me. I'll tell you the truth."
"I can't."
"So you'll never know, will you?"
I was silent.
He said, "You know why you can't ask me, angel? Because it would be a breach of trust. As soon as you ask me the question ... it says to you ... and to me ... that you don't trust me. Right now, you'd rather trust me than know the truth."
He began to caress my breasts. 170
"That's cool. I can accept that. Because the relationship has to die in the morning. But if that wasn't the case, you'd have to know the truth. And if you really loved me ... the way that I love you ... you'd accept me, no matter what. Just like I'd accept you, no matter what."
The room fell quiet. Neither of us spoke for a minute, just held each other. Leaning my head against his chest, I heard his heartbeat, felt the cool gold of his cross against my cheek. I climbed the chain with my fingers, then rested them on the back of his neck.
Wordlessly, he slipped off his chain and put it around my neck. "It's not fancy, but it's meaningful to me. It was my mother's. You'd do me an honor if you took it."
I kissed it. "It's beautiful. I love it." I kissed him softly. "I love you, Christopher. Despite everything, I still love you very deeply."
He kissed me hard, his tongue parting my lips, then playing inside my mouth. He began to explore my flesh, his left hand resting between my legs, fingertips inching into the pleats of my womanhood. He stopped abruptly and we locked eyes. For once, his were animated. He whispered, "I'll do whatever you want, Teresa. You lead. I'll follow."
It wasn't sex but it was pretty damn close. An exquisite compromise that took us through the night. 171
Sleep had been an elusive lover a series of brain buzzes and fits punctuated by sudden remembrances of things to do. Decker had finally given up at four in the morning, carefully rising from the bed, slipping into work clothes. He had brewed a pot of coffee, read the morning paper, walked the dog in a moonless star-studded sky, then tackled the barn changed and pitched the hay, fed and groomed the horses.
By six, he had not only worked up a good sweat but had cleared his mind. With renewed clarity, he had put on another pot of coffee, then had taken out the Diggs file a big envelope overflowing with official documents.
This time utility overtook vanity. Decker slipped on reading glasses, then fingered the piles of papers in front of him. The inevitable march of time took on particular significance for him because Rina was defying normal biological processes. Twelve years his junior, she looked younger than when they had married a phenomenon that baffled him, but one that perhaps Einstein could have explained. Wearing magnified lens and sipping coffee, he read, made notes, diagrams, charts, and time-tables.
At six-forty-five, Rina's slippers shuffled into the kitchen. "You didn't sleep, did you?"
"A couple of hours." Decker took off his glasses and stood up. "I could think of it as a poor night's sleep. Instead, I'll look at it as a refreshing nap. It's all relative." 172
"That may be but you look exhausted." She shook her head. "First Cindy turned you into an insomniac. Now this case. Peter, you need rest."
"Actually, I feel pretty good."
Rina began warming a bottle of milk. "That's caffeine talking."
"Speaking of which, the coffee's recent. We've got around fifteen minutes before the morning onslaught. Why don't you join me?"
Rina poured herself a cup, drowned it with milk, then sat at the kitchen table. She was blanketed in a terry robe, ebony hair falling at odd angles across her face. Her eyes were sleepy pools of clearwater blue. "Did you call Cindy?"
"Yes, I called her. Get this! Now she wants to stay in New York for the summer."
"At Columbia?"
"No, with two girlfriends. They want to rent an apartment. Can you believe that?"
"What's wrong with the idea?"
"Nothing, except I want her home."
"But she doesn't want to come home."
"So what? I'm her father and I want her home." He poured himself a refill and dropped a couple of slices of rye into the toaster. "I know, I know. Gotta let go. Let them have wings. What a truckload of crap." He frowned. "How's the rest of my family? Do they miss me?"
"They do."
"Tell the boys I'll take them riding tonight."
"Uh ... tonight they're busy learning."
"I thought they learned on Thursday night."
"That's mishmar at their school. Tuesdays is their extra learning with Rav Schulman at the Ohavei Torah. He's been asking about you, by the way."
"I know," Decker said. "I've been terrible ... canceling lessons right and left. I've been busy I know, I know. You're never too busy for Torah."
"He hasn't been asking about you to scold you, Peter. He's concerned for your welfare ... all the additional hours you've been putting in."
Decker eyed Rina suspiciously. "You haven't been talking to him now, have you?"
"About you? Of course not!" Rina got up and pulled the baby bottle out of warm water. "I'm insulted you'd think I'd talk behind your back."
"Then how does he know I'm working such long hours?" 173
"Because you've been canceling lessons."
Got you there, Deck. He gave her a boyish smile. Rina whacked his good shoulder. "Think you can charm your way out of everything, eh?"
"Is it working?"
"Yes, unfortunately." Rina sat back down. "I'm concerned about you, Peter. This case is taking its toll on your psyche. Do you know you've called me Marge two times?"
"That's not indicative of anything. I call her Rina all the time. She gets peeved when I do. Are you peeved at me?"
"No. But it does show me you need some rest. Either that or you need Marge."
He parked himself in a chair. "Yeah, I do miss Marge. We talk things out, each one bringing in a different perspective. Whenever I work by myself for long stretches, I get tunnel vision."
"Can I help?"
"No, it's all right. Scott Oliver's been picking up some of the slack."
Rina smiled. "Now, how is Scott doing?"
"You mean detective drooling dog," Decker said. "I see how he acts around you."
"It's any female, Peter Homo sapiens or otherwise."
Decker laughed. "Actually, he's a decent cop. If it were just Scotty and me, I wouldn't complain."
Rina took a sip of her coffee. "It's Davidson, isn't it? What's he doing to you this time?" The toaster dinged. Rina rose, but Decker gently nudged her back down. "I'll get it."
&nbs
p;
Justice Page 20
