“Great shoes,” he said, waving toward Alice.
“Oh yeah. Everyone who’s home in the Colony is in for a treat. Her mom will hunt her down in about a half hour.”
“Her grandmother’s wedding?”
“Yeah, Millicent’s an actress, popular everywhere she goes, and the guy she’s marrying is an accountant for one of the studios, real sharp, just graduated from Harvard. Come on in and I’ll get us something to drink.”
“Sounds nice.” He followed her into her house, habitually checking for anything out of place, listening for any noise that shouldn’t be there. “I talked to Danny during that last scene,” he said, catching a can of Diet Dr Pepper Mary Lisa tossed to him from the fridge. “He doesn’t know where to go from here.”
“I know.”
“There are always so many other things happening, things that pull him this way and that. Not that he’ll stop trying to find out who’s doing this-you’re Lou Lou’s friend, after all, and trust me, she’s got lots of pull with Danny. It doesn’t hurt that he likes you, and you’re famous. He won’t let them put you on the back burner. But he just pulled a homicide in Calabasas, a particularly nasty one.”
Mary Lisa touched her can of soda to his. “I know Detective Vasquez wouldn’t let them forget about me. And unlike you, Chief, he doesn’t keep threatening to throw my ass in jail to keep me safe. In fact, he’s never even mentioned my ass and jail in the same breath.”
He spewed soda all over himself he laughed so hard, and coughed a couple of times. She pounded his back. He set his can on the counter next to hers and hauled her against him. He buried his face in her hair. “Don’t you understand I talk like that because I want you safe? I don’t want anything to happen to you. It would kill me if something happened to you, don’t you get that?”
“Yes,” she said, “I get that.” She kissed him, ran her hands up and down his back. She loved the feel of him, the long sleek length of him. She whispered in his mouth, “No one’s supposed to come by for at least an hour. Hey, sailor, you want to come check out the battle charts I keep over my bunk? Play some war games?”
Jack looked down at her mouth, only a touch of peachy lipstick left on her lips. “Battle stations, as in battleships and subs and periscopes?”
She nearly ran to her bedroom, Jack right behind her. The room was cool because she always kept the air-conditioning on. She looked at her watch. “Yep, we’ve got at least an hour.”
He laughed as she pushed him backward onto her bed. She fell down over him, pulling up at his light sweater until she got it over his head, and threw it on a chair, then leaned back on her heels, astride him. “Oh my. My own private treat.”
She splayed her palms on his chest, moved them lower to his belly. She looked utterly absorbed. Jack found himself both horny and amused, and grinned up at her like a loon. “You look like you’re ready to unwrap your favorite candy.”
She hummed deep in her throat as she carefully unzipped his jeans. “Don’t distract me. I’m busy here, okay?”
She was still dressed when she got his clothes off him and settled astride him again. She leaned forward and cupped his face between her palms. “I wanted you the moment I saw you, Jack, but you didn’t like me. And then I saw you at Monica’s party, and there you were looking all tough and gorgeous in that tux and I think you even smiled at me. I was a goner, I just didn’t realize it yet.”
“That’s okay. Some of us are a little slow.” He chuckled, jerked her down to his chest, and kissed her.
When she was naked and panting, and she couldn’t think of another thing to say, he whispered against her cheek, “Do you have any clue how good you feel to me?”
She moved over him, felt him shudder, heard him suck in his breath, and knew that when he came inside her she would go over the edge with him. “You were worth the wait,” she said. She arched up, and he came into her, slowly, touching his fingers to her as he moved deeper and deeper, and she wondered if her brain would explode along with her body. Then he touched her womb as his warm fingers moved over her, and she screamed.
He flipped her onto her back, and whispered into her mouth, “I love you, Mary Lisa.”
To her surprise, she said against his neck with absolutely no hesitation at all, “I love you, too, Jack. I love you more.” He started moving again, and she said, “Oh yes, I want more of that too.”
When he was lying sated and stupid, nearly asleep on top of her, he kissed her again, then his mouth slid off her face, and he nestled his head beside hers on the pillow.
FIFTY-NINE
Before When Harry Met Sally, Meg Ryan played Betsy Andropoulos on As the World Turns.
Mary Lisa woke up half an hour later feeling loose and ready to take on the world. Jack was spooning her, his steady breath warm against the back of her neck, the weight of his arm around her waist. She turned, kissed him lightly on the tip of his nose, admired his thick long eyelashes and that stubborn jaw of his. She eased back a bit, took in the whole long length of him. Beautiful, just beautiful. And he was all hers.
She wriggled out of bed without waking him, threw on a T-shirt and shorts, and was whistling when she walked into the kitchen. She took a bottled water from the fridge. She hadn’t taken two drinks from the bottle when she sensed him more than heard him. She turned, smiling, handed him the bottle, and marched out the back door, saying over her shoulder, “Hey, how many calories do you think I burned up playing war with you?”
He considered this. “Enough for a couple of carrots at least.”
“That sounds great if they were on top of a pizza. Maybe a thin-crust pizza would be okay.”
“Another war game and you can have a thick crust.”
Her eyes on his mouth, she said, “I’ll see what we can come up with.”
He sat down on a deck chair, took a swig of water, then sat forward, rolling the cold bottle between his hands. He watched her lean against the railing, taking in the glorious late afternoon sun, the light afternoon breeze ruffling her hair.
He got to his feet, walked to the railing, and stood next to her. She looked thoughtful, so he kept his hands to himself for the moment. He looked out at the half dozen teenagers playing volleyball on the beach, yelling and laughing, and listened to the soft hiss of the breaking waves, foaming onto shore like fine lace. He said, not turning, “Living here on the beach there’s always the echo of the waves and laughter and muted conversation.” He paused a moment. “It’s nice.”
“Yes, it is. When it’s overcast and dismal, though, it gets pretty quiet, just the sound of the waves. I like that too, though I like it with people more.”
He turned to face her, pulled her up against him, and carried her to the chaise. He stretched her on her back and watched her turn boneless as a kid, her eyes closed as she leaned her head back against the cushion rest. He looked down at her a moment, and lightly traced his fingertips over her eyebrows. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked up at him.
“Nice eyebrows.”
“Do you know I’m told that all the time? Evidently the eyebrows are one of my best selling points.”
“I love your smart mouth.”
She gave him a sunny smile and sat up. She looked beyond him to wave back at a teenage boy who was clowning around to get her attention while another kid tried to stick a volleyball down his trunks. The girls hooted.
She said, “Did I tell you? Tomorrow I’ll have my very own SIG P232. The P stands for personal, you know. They’ve issued me a concealed weapons permit and I’ll be able to carry it in my purse.”
He leaned down, his hands on the arms of her deck chair, his face close to hers. He could see a light sheen of perspiration on her cheeks from the warm afternoon sun. “You don’t need a gun.”
She tapped her fingertips on the arms of her deck chair, kept looking out at the teenagers. “I bought the black hard-anodized aluminum alloy. It makes the SIG even lighter. Elizabeth has already taken me and Lou Lou to her shooting range thre
e times now. She says I’m a natural, that I could compete if I worked at it. You should come with us, set your mind at rest.”
He actually hissed, and she looked him straight in the eye, her voice as serious as a claims adjuster’s. “I’ve got to be able to protect myself, Jack, okay? And there’s Chico-”
He gave it up. “Yeah, okay, Chico-Danny told me he’s well regarded. You’re in good hands with him. But I hate this.” He streaked his fingers through his dark hair, making it stand upright.
She gave him a huge grin. “Glory be, so karate is all right with you, even if I end up better than you in a couple of weeks? Don’t you sneer at me, I’m getting good. Oh, by the way, thank you for hiring Sergeant McClusky. Did you know the poor man has the beginnings of prostate problems and was using the bushes? Mrs. Deffenbach nearly caught him in the act last night. I offered him a bathroom, which he gratefully accepted.”
Jack stared at her, nonplussed. “The man’s a professional, he was a cop for thirty-five years. Are you saying you made him?”
“I’m afraid so. I know every car that belongs in the Colony, everyone does. He told me he’s using his son’s clever new hybrid, a Prius, and moves it around often. There are a couple of the hybrids in the Colony, which is the only reason I didn’t tune into him right away.”
“So he told you all about keeping an eye on your house at night?”
“Yep, he did. Sergeant Ed’s a very nice man, Jack. Even with you inside, I kind of like the idea that he’s outside.”
“Even with the extra protection, I’m thinking I could do more, like kidnap you, take you to Budapest. It’s a beautiful place.”
“I’d like to go, but I don’t have a vacation until the second week in September.”
He pictured them there, strolling hand in hand along the Danube, walking over one of the many bridges to the Pest side. He’d show her the bullet holes he’d seen gouged in some of the buildings by Russian guns in the long-ago revolution.
Mary Lisa roused herself, went to the railing, and called out, “Hey, anyone want some nonfat milk with some Oreos?”
There were yells and cheers, and the herd of teenagers stampeded toward them.
She said over her shoulder as she went into the kitchen, “It’ll cut down on their beer consumption, always a good thing. And who in the world doesn’t like Oreos?”
He marveled at her as she emptied a brand-new half-gallon carton of milk into a dozen glasses and handed out Oreos to the oil-coated, windblown, starving teenagers, all of whom appeared to know Mary Lisa, her kitchen, her bathroom, and her two televisions very well.
“Hey, you’re Mary Lisa’s cop, aren’t you?”
It was the teenage girl who’d helped him that day Mary Lisa was shot at on the beach. “Yeah, that’s me.”
A little milk mustache adorned her upper lip and she looked adorable with Oreo crumbs on her chin. She was also lovely enough to make a young man’s teeth ache to look at her, with her long streaked blond hair tousled and windblown, and an almost-but-not-quite thong covering a tad of her perfectly tanned butt. She said in a serious voice, her hand on his forearm, “My name’s Holly and I live four doors down. We all live around here. And I want you to know we’re keeping an eye on Mary Lisa. Nobody is going to shoot at her here again, that’s for sure.”
Jack put his hand on hers and said, “Thank you. I really appreciate that, Holly.”
He heard Mary Lisa laugh, let the sound settle deep into him, and knew he was right where he wanted to be. He supposed he might be living down here, maybe joining up with local law enforcement.
One of the teenagers turned on the TV and Jack wandered into the living room. He wanted to watch Elizabeth broadcast the news.
He heard a cell phone, heard Mary Lisa’s voice, then dead silence.
He couldn’t help it, he was on his feet and turning toward the kitchen when she walked out, still holding her cell phone open in her hand. If he didn’t know better he would have thought someone had whacked her on the head.
He was at her side in a moment, his hands on her shoulders, shaking her. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
“Weirdest thing,” Mary Lisa said after a blank moment, looking up at him, “that was my mother.”
SIXTY
Soap operas are the most popular genre of television drama in the world today. No other form of television fiction has attracted more viewers in more countries over a longer period of time.
Mary Lisa was breathing in the wonderful aroma of her beef taco, loaded with the hottest sauce Tia’s Tacos served, waiting as long as possible to sink her teeth into that crunchy shell so she could make the whole experience last. She was also trying to wait until Jack got here with his own lunch, a Machu Picchu burrito that required more prep time. Last she saw him, he was hanging by the counter turned away from everyone, speaking on his cell phone, probably to Detective Vasquez. She closed her eyes a moment, hoping if she didn’t look at her very favorite food, all hot and crispy and not two feet from her mouth, she wouldn’t have it all chowed down by the time Jack got back to the car.
“You’re finally alone.”
A familiar voice. Mary Lisa opened her eyes and said, “Go away, Puker. Don’t forget the restraining order. I’ll call the cops, don’t think I won’t.”
“No reason for that,” he said as he opened the passenger door of the Mustang and slid into the seat beside her. “I saw your big bad cop inside, tied up on his cell phone looking real serious, and figured this was my chance. Let’s go, Mary Lisa. We haven’t got much time.”
She opened her eyes to see a nasty little pistol aimed at her, two inches from her chest. He saw the instant she realized what was happening, and chuckled.
“Yep, it’s me. Yours truly. Let’s go. You and I have lots of stuff to do and I don’t want your cop to see you leave.”
He shoved the pistol against her ribs. “Now, Mary Lisa, or I’ll have to shoot you right here, and all we’ll have are death photos of you I’m sure will move the world to tears.”
Her gun was in her purse lying by her left foot on the floor. She knew she couldn’t get it out of the purse fast enough. She considered laying on the horn. That would bring Jack running.
“No more stalling. Now, dammit, or you’re roadkill, Mary Lisa!”
He sounded like he meant it. She tossed her taco out the window, turned the key in the ignition, and backed out of the parking lot.
“Go right on PCH.”
She heard him draw a relieved breath when she turned onto the highway. It was unfortunate, but there weren’t any cars coming so she wasn’t able to delay for even an instant.
He’d been in her life for so long as a nuisance, as a two-faced weasel, nothing more than that. But now, he had a gun and things were different. He was different. He was deadly, and she knew that all the way to her soul. She realized something was very wrong with him, even more wrong than she’d imagined. And now he was planning to kill her? But why? “You gonna kill me, Puker?” she asked.
He smiled, looking happy as a clam, the wind blowing through his hair. “You’ll just have to sweat this one out, won’t you?”
“Where are we going, Puker?”
“Dammit, don’t call me that! I’m tired of your disrespecting me like that, Mary Lisa.” He shoved the gun hard against her arm. “It’s really not the time for it.”
It hurt, but she didn’t flinch or groan. She glanced over at him. “Give me one reason why I should respect you. For heaven’s sake, Puker, you’re holding a gun on me. You’ve shot at me, you tried to run me down!”
“It wasn’t anything personal, Mary Lisa,” he said. “I got some really nice photos from that car hit, made five grand on them. See, it was just business. Now, shut up and keep driving.”
“Where are we going?”
“Go past Pepperdine.”
Should she floor it? Crash her car, maybe draw a cop? Not here, not yet.
Pepperdine University stretched across the hill to h
er right. The beautiful Pacific and Amarillo Beach sprawled out to her left. They passed Puerco Beach.
“Hey, Mary Lisa, look here!”
She jerked her head toward him, fear and fury in her eyes, and she knew he saw it. He was grinning wildly as his camera clicked rapidly in burst mode, then quickly dropped it to his lap and brought his gun back up, this time shoving it against her neck.
“No, you aren’t going to do anything stupid or you’re dead.”
She trembled with rage, couldn’t help reaching out to claw his face, screaming at him, “You disgusting little creep!” He lurched against the door, out of the way of her nails. She jerked the car onto a narrow winding canyon road she knew dead-ended about a quarter of a mile upland. But she couldn’t wait for that. She jerked the Mustang off the gnarly asphalt through a ditch onto an empty stretch of level rocky ground and mashed down hard on the brakes, throwing both of them forward. The momentum sent her head slamming against the steering wheel.
Mary Lisa didn’t want to open her eyes, she really didn’t, because she knew somewhere deep inside that Puker was still there, but she had to. Thank God he hadn’t shot her. She jerked up, felt pain slice through her head and nearly passed out again. She felt wet on the side of her face and knew it was her blood.
“Hey, you coming back to reality, Mary Lisa? You were out of it a good two, three minutes. I got some good shots of you unconscious, face against the steering wheel, a trickle of blood snaking down to your neck. Real quality photos. Time to get yourself together now, Mary Lisa.”
For a moment, she didn’t understand. They were moving, she felt the wind on her face. Puker had shoved her over onto the passenger side. He was driving now. Thank God, he’d tossed her purse over onto the floor, at her feet. Thank you, God, thank you.
“Where are we?”
Born To Be Wild Page 31
