Death Hampton

by Walter Marks

  “D.C.?”

  “State. Tacoma.”

  Jericho’s heart sank.

  “It’s a great opportunity for Irwin,” she said. “He’s gone as far as he can here in Montauk. And y’know, since I’ve been working at the health food store, I’ve gotten very interested in nutritional healing. There’s a school of naturopathic medicine close by in Seattle. I could get a degree and — ”

  “You can’t do this,” Jericho said angrily.

  “Please, Neil, I’m sorry — “

  “Jesus Christ,” he shouted. “You know what Katie means to me. When you moved out here, I relocated to be with her. I had to start at the bottom with the East Hampton police, but it didn’t matter, because the important thing was to be near her.”

  “I know that, Neil.”

  “Sarah, we have joint custody.”

  “But I have residual custody. She has to live with me.”

  “You can’t just pick up and move out of state. I can go to court.”

  “Please,” Sarah said. “I know what you’re feeling. But you know you can’t win in court. You’d have to try to get residual custody for yourself, and you don’t have the kind of schedule where you could take care of her. The court puts the welfare of the child first, and you know they’d decide Katie should be with her mother.”

  “For God’s sake, Sarah,” Jericho said, “we agreed we’d always be reasonable and fair when it comes to Katie. This is totally unfair. ”

  “Neil,” she said gently. “We didn’t plan for this to happen. Irwin’s dad always said he’d work till he dropped. But now he’s giving us a wonderful opportunity. Irwin’ll be making much more money, and Katie will live in a great neighborhood and have the finest schooling.”

  “So what happens to my visitation rights?”

  “Irwin made a suggestion. He’s offering to pay for your airfare, as many trips as you want. It’s only a five-hour flight. You can come out every weekend. You’ll have to red-eye it but – “

  “Christ, Sarah.”

  “And if your child support becomes a hardship — “

  “I’ll always pay Katie’s child support,” Jericho said firmly.

  “Okay, okay,” she said. “Anyway, you can have her for Christmas, Easter, four weeks in the summer.“

  “Summer is the busy season out here. I won’t have that much free time.“

  “I know,” Sarah said compassionately. “but we’ll work it out somehow.”

  Jericho sighed, knowing there was nothing he could do. “When would you be leaving?” he asked.

  “Right after Thanksgiving.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “I’m really sorry, Neil.“

  “You’ll be uprooting Katie, taking her away from all her friends.”

  Sarah gave him a compassionate look. “Please try to understand.”

  “Have you told Katie about this?”

  “Not yet.”

  “It’s gonna kill her.”

  “Kids are resilient. They’re stronger than we think.”

  “Well, I’m not.”

  “You’re the strongest man I’ve ever known.”

  He could see she meant it. It didn’t help. He felt the tears coming.

  “Please, Neil,” Sarah said. “It’ll be okay.”

  He rose and walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a dishtowel and wiped his eyes.

  “Listen,” he called out. “I think I need some time alone with this.”

  “Of course. Call me later if you want to talk.”

  He heard Sarah moving toward the door.

  “Neil. I — I’m truly sorry.”

  Jericho opened the refrigerator and took out the bottle of wine. He sat down at the kitchen table and stared at it.

  I know I’m not an alcoholic, he told himself. It was easy to quit once I got away from all the crap in New York. So what the hell if I take a little sip of Chardonnay, to calm myself down?

  He got a corkscrew from the table drawer, stripped off the plastic from the neck of the bottle, and began to open it.

  As he did, he heard a far off rumble of thunder.

  He struggled to sort things out in his mind. Why did this have to happen? Everything was going so well. Things with Katie and me are great, I’m doing okay in my job, and I’m even starting to think maybe something could develop with Susannah. Not now of course, but maybe, after this case is cleared...

  He picked up the wine bottle.

  I need this. Christ, yes. I need this! One drink won’t hurt.

  Bottle in hand, he opened the kitchen door and stepped out into the black night.

  He heard the thunder closer now, resounding like a tympani roll.

  He raised the bottle to his lips, hesitated a moment, then took a big slug of wine.

  Immediately he felt the familiar warmth in his system, the fulfillment of a long-denied need. His head started spinning and he held onto the back porch rail for support.

  A thunder clap echoed in the sky. A lightening flash illuminated the woods around him. It was like a warning from heaven. He was about to take another swig when it hit him. One more swallow of this stuff and I’m lost!

  He could hear the first spatter of raindrops on the porch roof.

  Mocked by the cheeping of crickets, he realized how weak and vulnerable he was.

  Abruptly he hurled the bottle into the forest. “No!” he shouted as it shattered.

  The rain began coming down in earnest, drenching him from head to toe.

  Jericho walked back into the house, the alcohol still dizzying his brain and body.

  I’ll get on with my life, he told himself. Do the best I can. But I need something good to happen for me. Goddammit, I need something good!

  CHAPTER 40

  Susannah was in bed, reading Dance Magazine. The rain was falling in torrents, pounding the roof above her, pelting her bedroom window.

  She heard the familiar ding from the laptop on her nightstand, indicating she had an e-mail.

  She sat up, swung onto the edge of her bed and opened Gmail. The e-mail was all in caps:

  IT’S ME AGAIN. YOU DID A BAD THING.

  YOU ARE BEING WATCHED!

  It was signed with a smiley face emoticon.

  The fear gripped her once more.

  I thought this e-mail thing was over. Now this. What does it mean? Someone is trying to harass me, frighten me. But who? Someone... evil.

  She got up, feeling suddenly exposed because she was wearing only a t-shirt. She put on a robe, and looked out the window into the dark, rainy night. She saw nothing.

  What did I expect to see? she thought.

  She’d said she wouldn’t cry any more, but there was no holding back.

  The tears came, flooding her eyes. She threw herself down on the bed, her body racked with sobs. She lay there, frightened, overwhelmed by the feeling that her life was beyond her control. And she felt terribly alone.

  The doorbell rang. She sat up, wiping her eyes.

  The doorbell rang again, more urgently.

  Susannah looked at her alarm clock. It was just after midnight.

  She went to the top of the stairs and called down.

  “Who’s there?”

  “Police. Open up!”

  She thought she recognized the detective’s voice. Descending the stairs, she called out.

  “Detective Jericho?”

  “Yes.”

  She went to the bay window, where she could see him at the door. She wanted to make sure.

  She opened the door.

  Jericho stood there in the rain, holding a large umbrella over him. He looked disheveled and very intense.

  “Detective. What are you?...”

  “Susannah,” he interrupted her.

  “First name?”

  “It’s...I’m not here as a cop.”

  “Do you want to come in?”

  “Please.”

  He closed his umbrella and left it outside. He kicked off his sneakers, and entered. />
  “Those sneakers’ll get ruined,” she said.

  “They’re old canvas Topsiders. I’ve worn them wet before.”

  For a moment they stood facing each other in silence. He smiled. Seeing him, the terror that had seized her only a few minutes before seemed to ease away.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” Jericho said. “I just needed to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Something personal.”

  She could see Jericho was troubled. “Are you okay?”

  Jericho saw the face of this beautiful woman, looking at him with warmth and genuine concern.

  “What is it?” she said softly, placing her hand tentatively on his cheek.

  Jericho pulled her to him and kissed her. The spark of connection that had flashed between them over the past few weeks burst into an engulfing flame.

  Jericho was amazed at the softness of her lips. It had been so long since he’d kissed a woman. And when her tongue slid tentatively into his mouth, he was momentarily back in high school, experiencing the wonder of his first kiss.

  She melted against him, adoring his strength. In his arms she felt protected, like nothing bad could happen to her. She could feel the heat start to pool within her as his lips left her mouth, trailing wetly along her cheek. She moaned and pulled away.

  “This isn’t a good idea.”

  “I know.”

  His hands still held her around the waist. She could have backed away further, but she didn’t. She could feel his burgeoning manhood pressing against her thigh. “Do you want to come upstairs?”

  “Very much.”

  Jericho followed her up the stairway to her bedroom. As Susannah climbed the steps, she removed her robe and trailed it behind her. Above her naked buttocks were two gently indented dimples. It was the most erotic sight Jericho had ever seen.

  She lay naked on the bed and watched him undress. She admired his well-defined arms and chest. He was thick around the middle, but his upper abdomen still showed muscle beneath. A two-pack, she thought.

  He stripped off his pants and briefs, and dropped belly down beside her. He reached for her and she stopped him.

  “Do you have a condom?”

  “Uh, gee, no.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, well. Don’t worry about it.

  “You mean — ”

  “We’ll just have to improvise.”

  “Improvise?”

  “Y’know, explore alternative possibilities.”

  “Sounds promising”.

  “Me first,” she said.

  Gently she pushed him over on his back.

  He felt her long hair trailing along his torso as her head moved toward his genitals. Then she was there, dragging her tresses back and forth, making his penis rise and thicken.

  Jericho’s eyes were closed so he didn’t see Susannah swing her body over him. But he felt her breasts pressing on his thighs.

  Her fingernails dug into his belly muscles as her mouth took him. She was all wetness and enveloping warmth, her tongue a soft whip of pleasure, swirling and slithering over the length of him.

  God, I love how he feels in my mouth, she thought. So hard, hot, and slippery smooth. Jericho moaned softly, and knowing she was giving him pleasure made Susannah wet with her own desire.

  One of her hands was stroking his shaft now. The other was on the sac below, caressing, coaxing. For long moments she kept him on the edge, teasing him, controlling him. Finally Jericho felt the delicious flow of orgasmic tension begin to rise. The sensation built, and built, then abruptly peaked. His back arched, his hips lifted and fell and lifted again, but her mouth stayed with him, striving to contain his essence.

  He collapsed back on the damp bedclothes. Susannah rested her head on her hand, watching his softening member. She kissed it lightly, affectionately, then wriggled up to lie beside him. Jericho pulled her close and for a while they rested in silence.

  “It’s only in moments like this,” Susannah said, “that I regret giving up cigarettes.”

  Jericho laughed. “I’d like to ask you something,” he said. “Don’t answer if you don’t want to.”

  “What is it?”

  “Did you love your husband?”

  “No.”

  He waited for her to explain more. She didn’t.

  “I noticed you’ve got separate bedrooms,” Jericho said.

  Susannah hesitated before answering. ”We...well, it’s complicated.

  “None of my business,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  She leaned over and kissed him on the lips to tell him it was all right.

  “Were you a dancer before you became a teacher?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Ballet? Modern?”

  “Modern.”

  “Martha Graham?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I’m a detective. I deduce things.”

  “C’mon.”

  “Okay,” he said smiling. “Martha Graham’s the only name I know in modern dance.”

  “Did you ever see her?”

  “I saw the company. When I was a kid my mom used to drag me into the city for concerts, dance, theatre. I liked Martha Graham because the ladies kept pumpin’ their pelvises. Guess I was a horny little devil back then.”

  “As opposed to now?”

  Jericho grinned.

  “How long have you been a detective?” she asked.

  “Fifteen years. But only a couple in East Hampton. Before that I was in the city. Twenty-third Precinct, East Harlem.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  Jericho paused before he answered. “I got burned out.”

  “I guess it’s pretty rough, what a city cop has to deal with on a day-to-day basis.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So you moved out here to be with Katie?”

  Jericho nodded.

  “She’s a doll,” Susannah said.

  He smiled but there was that sadness in his eyes.

  “So,” she said, “was there one thing that led you to quit the police department, or was it just everything?”

  “Everything,” Jericho answered. “But there was one event that triggered it, and it didn’t really involve police work.”

  Jericho sat up and propped some pillows behind his head.

  “I was walking home after work one night,” he said, “when I saw a restaurant delivery boy on a bike, coming straight at me. Bicycles on the sidewalk always pissed me off, because on patrol I’d seen plenty of pedestrians creamed by these kamikazes. So this delivery boy was bearing down on me, full speed ahead. He was avoiding eye contact; they always do — I guess on the theory that if they don’t acknowledge you, it forces you to take responsibility for not getting hit. As the kid passed, he grazed my jacket sleeve, and without thinking I stuck out my elbow and shoved hard. The bike wobbled, skidded out of control, then smashed into a light pole. The kid went flying over the handlebars and landed on the sidewalk.”

  He paused and let out a self-derisive sigh.

  “Susannah, I watched it all with a sense of amusement, like it was a movie cartoon. I mean, I’m a cop and I just stood there. I didn’t even go to the aid of an injured person.”

  “A couple people on the street went to help him. I watched them pull the banged-up kid to his feet, and he went limping over to his wrecked bike. After that I turned around and went home. A week later I quit the force.”

  Susannah could see the memory was upsetting. She reached over and gently stroked his hair. He closed his eyes; it had been a long time since anyone had soothed him. After a while Susannah spoke seductively.

  “How would you feel about a little more improvisation?”

  “Sounds good. But this time it’s my turn.”

  “Have at it.”

  “I must warn you, though — I’m a little out of practice.”

  “Hey, it’s like riding a bicycle.”

  Jericho
slid down to the juncture of her thighs. She felt his tongue, moist and warm, beginning to explore. Like all the men she’d known, he was tentative and cautious, hoping to find his way into her mysterious center of desire. After a while he found the right spot, and she began to shudder against his wet mouth and stroking tongue. Yes. Yes, she whispered. That was all the coaching he needed.

  Before long, she wanted to tell him he would qualify for the Tour de France.

  At last they fell asleep, spoon style.

  Jericho awoke when Susannah shifted her body. The rain had ended and the skies were clear. The moonlight from the window gave her naked form a ghostly pallor. Her limbs were spread out, her breasts barely discernible mounds on her chest. As Jericho watched, her hands reached up into the air, perhaps responding to something in an unknowable dream. Then they fell to the mattress.

  Jericho felt a stab of anguish. After covering her with the bed sheet, he rolled over and fell into a deep sleep.

  Jericho hears a baby crying. Then a woman’s pleading voice: “Por favor ... Por favor.”

  Jericho and his partner draw their guns.

  Luis Ramos holds the naked baby in his hands, dangling her out a wide-open window.

  “Come any closer and the kid’s history.”

  The baby is shrieking incessantly.

  Jericho speaks calmly: “Luis, if you kill that kid, you’ll get life in the joint. If you hand me the baby, all you’ll face is drug charges. You’ll probably end up with five to ten. It’s a much better deal.”

  “Drop your guns or I drop the baby.”

  The mother calls out softly. “Madre de Dios, por favor... Por favor...”

  The two cops put down their guns. Ramos pulls out a switchblade and holds it to the baby’s throat.

  “Now I’m gonna walk outta here. And I’ll kill the kid if you try to stop me.”

  The whoop of police sirens echoes from the street.

  “That’s backup,” Jericho says. “They’ll surround the building. Sharpshooters’ll blow your head off the moment you show your face. Even if you do get through, you’ll have a kidnapping charge hanging over you. Then you’re really fucked. Believe me, you’re better off surrendering.”