look
like he'd left town. In that case, Mitch was sure he'd be at his girlfriend's house.
It was almost nine in the evening when Mitch went back to Lulu's. Jessica's car was there this time, and it was Jessica who answered the door. Mitch had some second thoughts about his hypothesis when he saw Lulu. She'd been crying and the atmosphere in the room was tense.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"Is he here?"
She just looked daggers at him.
"Look, Lulu, I know you like him and all that, but he can't hide out from the FBI. This is serious. I don't know why, but it obviously is. Don't get yourself in some kind of trouble trying to protect him."
"He's not here, you idiot," snapped Jessica.
"Did you search the house?" asked Mitch, looking at her.
"Of course not," she said darkly. "I believe my friend, which is more than I can say for you!"
"I'm just trying to do my job," said Mitch. "I don't like this any more than you do."
"So you want to search my house?" asked Lulu. Her voice was flat.
"I guess I do," said Mitch, feeling less and less good about this. He was going to have to stay clear of the Early Girl for at least a month. Longer if he found Kris hiding here.
What came onto Lulu's face looked suspiciously like disappointment, but she waved her hand toward the back of the house. "Have at it," she said.
He knew, somehow, that he wouldn't find "the fugitive," as he now thought of Kris, but he went through the motions, looking anywhere a grown man might be able to hide. There was an access port to the attic, but when he stood on a chair and lifted the panel, dust floated down, convincing him it hadn't been opened recently. He returned to the living room to hear Jessica talking.
"Sweetie, I'm sure he just had to go back to New York City to sell his book or something. He'll be back. I know he will. I've seen how he looks at you."
"But why didn't he tell me he was going?" moaned Lulu. "First he didn't tell me about this stupid accident he was in and now this."
"He's all mixed up, still," said Jessica. "He can't remember things. That has to be hard on a person. He's probably just trying to find out some stuff about himself or something."
"He didn't kiss me goodbye," said Lulu softly. She was talking about the last time she'd seen him.
"He probably thought he could run down there, get things done, and then hurry back, and that you wouldn't even know he was gone," said Jessica. "Then, maybe his publisher needed him to do something or ... I don't know ... he just got delayed."
"Why hasn't he called?" asked Lulu.
"Maybe he cut off his phone in New York, while he was gone or something."
Mitch went into the room. Jessica wasn't helping her friend, making excuses for Farmingham. If he'd run, he was gone for good, or at least until the FBI caught up with him and dealt with whatever was going on. He didn't buy Jefferson's comment that Kris wasn't in trouble. The accident and the bullets couldn't be good, especially if they involved the FBI. Maybe it had been one of their undercover agents who'd been run over.
"Maybe he'll show back up," said Mitch. "But it's possible he won't. If he does, though, I need to know about it, Lulu."
"Geez, Mitch," complained Jessica. "Can't you see she's all torn up about this? You don't have to be such an asshole."
"I'm just doing my job," he said.
"Well do your job by protecting the public, instead of picking on one of them," said Jess. "Maybe he's gotten into another accident. Maybe he's lying out there hurt somewhere and needs help. Why aren't you looking for him that way? In fact, I'm going with you. I'll help you!"
Jessica took his elbow. He either had to jerk away from her or go with her. He decided that, since Kris wasn't at Lulu's, he might as well go elsewhere. Maybe Jessica would have some ideas of where to look. Lulu obviously wasn't in a frame of mind to help.
He reminded Jessica to put her seat belt on as they pulled away from the house.
Stress brings out odd things in people sometimes. Mitch was stressed and so was Jessica. She had been coming up with all kinds of arguments designed to give her friend some hope, but she didn't believe them. Not really. Like Mitch, she was sure Kris would have said something to Lulu if he was going to run away. Unlike Mitch, she was afraid something had happened to him to prevent him from contacting Lulu.
The problem was there was nothing she could think of to do about it. She felt helpless. It was also the first time she'd ever been in a police car. She used the various differences between a regular car and the patrol car to try to distract herself from worrying about Lulu and Kris. She looked curiously at the radio, the shotgun in its clip on the dash, and the myriad of buttons and switches that did different things.
Mitch was also frustrated and tense. He'd ended up genuinely liking Kris, but now he had a bad feeling about things. He tried to convince himself that bad feeling was at odds with the facts. Kris
had
confided in him, with that cockamamie story idea. Mitch had known what was going on and he truly believed that Kris wasn't at all sure about his memories. He was pretty sure Kris wouldn't just run over somebody and drive away. He wasn't that kind of guy. The gunplay in the matter complicated things, though. And Jefferson had said it would all go away, like it was no big deal. He couldn't figure that part out. Jefferson, despite his assurances that Kris wasn't in trouble, hadn't really helped.
He realized, quite suddenly, that Jessica was wearing some kind of perfume. It smelled delicious, faintly like peaches.
For years afterward, the two of them would shrug their shoulders about how things had turned out. Neither of them could explain it.
It started with Jessica questioning Mitch about what he knew. Lulu hadn't been able to explain much, except that Kris was in some kind of trouble involving an accident and that somebody had shot at him during said accident. As Mitch filled her in, they drove around, more or less aimlessly, looking for a car that both of them knew, somehow, they'd never find.
When Mitch said he'd thought maybe Kris had hidden the car in the woods, to go hide at Lulu's, she scoffed, but then suggested they leave town and look for the car.
Then, somehow, they ended up parked in those woods and, somehow, they ended up leaning toward each other. Neither remembered unfastening their seatbelts, but both remembered their first kiss. Neither remembered how it came to be that Jess' shirt came off, but both would remember quite clearly how his mouth found her fat, black nipples. Both would remember for the rest of their lives when she sank down on him, taking his manhood inside her. She was naked. He was still in his uniform, though his pants were down around his knees.
Then there was a period of jerking and moaning and kissing as they acted like teenagers out in Daddy's car.
When it was over, they just stared at each other.
"Shit," said Jessica softly.
"It wasn't
that
bad," said Mitch, trying to smile. He was wondering how in the world this had happened.
"I never thought it would be you," she said.
"You're telling
me
that?" His voice sounded weak.
"You just took my virginity," she said. Her eyes welled up with tears.
"Hey, don't cry. I'm sorry," he said. His stomach churned. What had he
done?
"I'm not mad," she bawled. "I'm haaaaapeeeeeee!"
It almost evolved into a second chapter, right then and there, but she pushed him away.
"Not here," she panted. "Take me home. I'll show you my naughty nurse outfit."
Two hours later, he drifted off to sleep in her arms, his patrol car still parked outside. It occurred to him that somebody would notice, and that there would be hell to pay if Dabney ever found out about this, but he decided not to leave her bed anyway.
Through it all, neither felt guilty for forgetting all about Lulu or Kris, and the problems both were facing.
Chapter Thirty-one
Kris knew it was going to be Lola before he even opened the door. It was always Lola. He still hadn't given her a key. He'd told her it was because he only had one and hadn't had time to have another one made.
"I need your credit card," she said, smiling widely.
"Why?" he asked.
"The rings are ready," she said.
It was the last straw.
It got ugly very quickly, as he said there would be no rings and no wedding, no credit card, and no key to his apartment. He thought she might start throwing things, but she didn't. Instead, her face took on a horrible aspect and she shouted, "You can't
do
this, you prick! What about the
baby?
"
"Baby?" He was stunned.
"I'm
pregnant
, you son of a bitch!" she screamed. She pulled up her shirt. It didn't show from the outside, but once the skin was bared, there was a discernable bulge there.
Kris felt panic, initially. He couldn't abandon a woman if he'd gotten her pregnant.
Then, in a flash of insight, he remembered they hadn't been to bed since he'd come back. He'd kept putting her off. Not only that, she was obviously at least two or three months pregnant, if he could actually
see
it. He'd been gone for four months ... longer actually.
"I've been gone for almost four and a half months," he said, his eyes wide.
Lola blinked and then frowned. "You came back two months ago. You don't even remember that?" Her voice sounded hesitant, rather than irate that he couldn't even remember getting her pregnant.
"Two months ago, I was in Connecticut," he said. "I was writing a book. I never came back here until a week ago last Monday."
"Of course you did," she said, looking scared for the first time. "We had sex. You got me pregnant."
"You bitch!" He turned around and walked away from her, because he knew that if he could reach her, he'd punch her out. "Get out."
"Noooo!" she wailed. "You were gone! I didn't know where you went. I couldn't find you. I tried to, but nobody would help me. And I got lonely. I didn't know if you'd
ever
come back! It was only once ... I swear! And it wouldn't have happened if you'd told me you were a real author and that you were going away to write a book. This is all
your
fault! You can't
do this to me!
"
He turned around. "I didn't press charges against you for breaking into my apartment. If you're not gone in ten seconds, I'm going to do exactly that. You can have your fucking baby in
prison
for all I care!"
"Noooooo," she whined. "He's married. I can't go to him. I love you. You love me. We were going to get married," she moaned.
"Ten ... nine ... eight ... seven ... " Kris intoned, looking at his wrist. The effect was somewhat diminished by the fact that he wasn't wearing his watch at the moment. He got to three before she wailed and ran back out the door.
He felt only sadness as he closed it after her.
What brought Kris out of his doldrums, or at least lifted his spirit somewhat, was a phone call from a man who announced he was Mr. Templeton, from Miffen and Combs. Kris recognized the voice of the man Lola had taken him to see.
"We sent your romance novel to a group of test readers. We just got the results back and they all have glowing things to say about it. We feel even better about it now than we did before," said Templeton. "I need you to come down so we can negotiate about the price."
"Certainly," said Kris, feeling hope and happiness for the first time in a long time.
He was less happy when he got there and Templeton handed him a check, beaming widely.
Kris took the check and looked at it. It seemed like it wasn't much money, and he wondered immediately how he could survive on an author's income.
"I thought we were going to negotiate," said Kris.
"This is a first book for you, in this genre," said Templeton. "If it does well, and you write more of this kind of book, I'm sure your compensation will increase." He smiled. "We're taking a chance on this." He fussed with things on his desk and then slid a piece of paper across it toward Kris. "Just sign here," said Templeton.
Kris remembered that Templeton had said something about an advance for the Kangaroo Pounder book. He still hadn't been to the bank yet, to find out what his account looked like, but he knew he'd paid for six months rent on Chastain's lake house in advance.
"How much was that advance you gave me before?" he asked. He watched wariness come into Templeton's eyes.
