Head to Head (25 page)

When I woke up the next morning, Black was sitting beside the bed, fully dressed, black pin-striped Italian silk suit, starched white shirt, solid gold cuff links, in full regalia, ready for important things. We shared coffee and croissants and great big strawberries and smiled at each other a lot, but we didn’t say anything much that meant anything. Maybe he was as uncertain as I was. Then he left, and I went back to bed and slept for about five hours. And I felt a hell of a lot better.

He called a couple of times to check on me, which sort of pleased me, and said he’d be back in time for a late dinner with me. I said, “Make yourself at home, really, I mean it,” and he laughed, and then I fell asleep on the chaise lounge in the shade for four or five more hours. Yes, I was sleep deprived, and I had grown accustomed to the pleasure of being unconscious.

I didn’t wake up again until I heard Black enter his office. I was lying on a big, wide leather sofa, covered with a black velvet blanket. It was dark outside, and I hadn’t turned on any lights, so he didn’t see me at first. I watched him snap on his desk lamp, then shrug out of his dark suit jacket, loosen the top buttons of his still-crisp white shirt, then jerk off his gray tie and head for the wet bar. He got out a bottle of Scotch and set it on the counter. He poured a short glass and knocked it back as if he needed it.

I said, “Do you work this hard all the time?”

He turned quickly, and I sat up on the couch, still half hidden in shadows. He looked distinctly relieved. “I thought you’d gone home without telling me. Nobody’s seen you for hours.”

“I fell asleep on the balcony, then came in here at some point. I’ve been trying to think everything through, the way you suggested.”

He poured himself another drink, walked over, slouched down in the wing chair beside the sofa, and propped his foot on his knee. He rested his glass on the arm of his chair, but he didn’t offer me one. “And?”

I’d been thinking about him all day, about us, about what I really wanted. And what I wanted was to be honest with him, quit hiding inside myself as he accused me, and if he could help me feel better about myself like he said he could, I was all for it. “You changed something in me last night. I can’t figure out how you did it, and I don’t know if I like it or not. But I think I do like it.”

Black grinned, and I could tell it was genuine. I felt the urge to pull him down beside me and forget about everything else. Maybe that was because he was one hell of a good lover and made me feel things I’d never even dreamed of, or maybe it was more than that.

“Well, I know a good thing when I see it,” he said.

“Speaking of news, have you heard anything else about the case?” I had a feeling I’d changed the subject because of the growing intimacy. Black would probably call that a defense mechanism.

“The networks can’t get enough of it. We can turn on the television and listen to the experts if you want.”

“You’ve been one of those experts, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I have. At times.”

I watched him watch me, but the quiet was not too bad or too uncomfortable.

“I feel okay today,” I offered after a while. “I slept all day, longer than I have in ages.”

“I wish I could have stayed here with you.”

I did, too. I thought of all the enjoyable things we did through the night, and I felt myself wanting to do them all again. I sat up and crossed my arms over my chest, somehow feeling vulnerable. “I realize I came on a bit strong last night. I apologize for that. I’m not very good at seduction. I guess I looked pretty silly, didn’t I?”

Black gazed at me a second, then gave a wry-sounding laugh. “You’re not too bad at it, considering what happened.”

That both flattered me and embarrassed me, so I changed the subject again. “Did you see patients today?”

He nodded. “Yes, and any colleagues in Paris had some complications with a case we’ve got over there. We confer on patients a couple of times a week.”

“Do you consider me your patient now?”

He hesitated, and that put me off a little. He sipped his drink and relaxed into the chair. “No, I’m too close to you now to be effective, but I have excellent therapists working for me that I can recommend whenever you decide you’re ready.”

“No way. I won’t talk to anyone but you.”

“Well, we can always talk.” He grinned.

“That was pretty easy.”

“I’m pretty easy in lots of ways.” He picked up my hand and kissed the back of it, and I shut my eyes when he turned it over and kissed my palm. But I didn’t pull away, and he threaded his fingers through mine.

I had to know, so I said, “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Do you think it’d really help me to talk about everything, you know, what happened back then and other things that I went through earlier in my life?”

“Have you talked about these things to anyone before?”

“No.”

“Then, yes. I think it’d be helpful.”

“Do I have to lie down on the couch?”

“No. We can talk wherever you want.”

“Will you lie down on the couch with me?”

I was teasing, but it felt good to have him back, to have hope that I could actually grind to a halt the awful tape that had run nonstop in my head for years on end.

“So long as you understand you’re not my patient.”

“What am I?”

“My lover, at the moment.”

“At the moment?”

“As long as you want to be. I know I felt like a million bucks after last night.”

“You may not after you get to know me better.”

“I know you pretty well by now. I just don’t know about your past.”

“Do I get to ask questions about you, too?”

“Sounds reasonable.”

I sat up, made room for him on the sofa, and Black set his glass aside and stretched out his long frame beside me. When he put his arm around me, I snuggled in close the way I’d done last night.

“You smell good, like the soap in my bathroom,” he said. “You know, I think we’ll do all our sessions like this, or maybe even in bed. What do you say?”

“Sounds good. How do we get started?”

“I’m going to let you make up the rules. Who do you want to ask the first question? Me or you?”

Instead of answering, I plucked at the buttons on his shirt, and when it gaped completely open, I slid my hand over the warm, hard muscles of his chest. “Shouldn’t we discuss your fee? Bud said you charge a thousand dollars an hour.”

“Tell you what, I’ll pay you a thousand dollars for every hour you lie here and touch me like that. Does that work for you?” He kissed the top of my head, and I felt something shoot through me that was closely akin to
whoopee
. There really was something about this guy. I used to think he rang my bell, but the truth was he melted my bell down to liquid metal.

I smiled and said, “Okay, go ahead. Do your magic, mighty voodoo doctor. Make everything right in my head.”

“Where were you born?”

“Oh, God, you’re not going to start with my childhood, are you? Like the shrinks do in every movie I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Everybody’s a critic,” he said.

I smiled again and threaded my fingers through the hair on his chest. There was no way he could have a body like he did without lifting weights. I wondered when he had the time. “In Dayton, Ohio. You?”

“Charity in New Orleans.”

“Your bio says Kansas City.”

“I put that out to distance myself from the Montenegro name.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead and said, “You know, this is quickly going down as the most pleasant session I’ve ever had, bar none.” Then he said, “I have one older brother, whom you met in the worst possible way imaginable, and who I promise will never order a hit on you, not under any circumstances. No sisters.”

I smiled at that, but I knew he wanted to know more about my family. I felt myself going all tense and uncomfortable at the thought of getting into a subject I’d never discussed with anyone, not even Harve. It was hard, but I finally said, “One brother. No sisters.”

“What’s your brother’s name?”

“Thomas.”

“Where’s he now?”

“I don’t know. My mother took me and left home when I was little.”

“How little?”

“Kindergarten age, I guess. Five or six, maybe. I can barely remember back that far. I vaguely remember him pushing me on a swing, I think, but it’s all cloudy in my mind. That could’ve been someone else.”

“Why’d you and your mother leave?”

I shifted in his arms, so uneasy now I thought about pulling away and standing up. I didn’t like telling him these things. I guess I was afraid of what he’d think of me if he heard all the sordid details of my life. Just do it and get it over with. Scrape up enough courage and just tell him the truth, as ugly as it was. Instead, I mumbled a half-truth. “She didn’t like to talk about it. She said we couldn’t stay there any longer, so she took me away.”

“She didn’t take your brother?”

I shook my head. “She left him with my father. I don’t know why. I never understood why he didn’t come with us.”

“Do you remember your father?”

“Hardly anything, really. I think he was a doctor, and I don’t think we lived with him very long.”

“What about when you were older? Did you ever see your father and brother again?”

I shook my head and heard my own breathing hard against his neck. Suddenly, I felt like I couldn’t get enough air. Dammit, I needed to do this, I did, and I was going to get through it. Black was different than the other psychiatrists I’d been forced to deal with, especially the idiots in the LAPD. I trusted him now. He wasn’t going to hurt me or throw me into an institution. “I heard once that both of them died in a fire, but I’m not sure. My momma died not long after we left them.”

I wanted to stop almost as much as I didn’t want to stop. I caressed Black’s chest some more, then slid my palm down over his flat belly. Black sucked air when I hit pay dirt.

“You never saw either of them again?” He sounded breathless, and I knew why. He had certainly risen to the occasion, so I kept caressing him, ready to end the talking and do something much less painful.

“Huh-uh.” I lifted myself on top of him and sighed when he slid his hands up under the green Cedar Bend T-shirt I wore and kneaded my naked back. My blood began to tingle.

“Where’d you go after that?” he said, pressing his hips up against me.

I smiled but answered his question against his mouth. I sounded all breathless and aroused, which was true, to say the least. “I lived in Florida for a while, with my aunt and uncle.” I nibbled at his lower lip until he pulled my head down for a deeper kiss, and when it ended, I said, “Then I went to school in Louisiana, just like you.”

“You went to college in New Orleans? Tulane, like I did?”

I kept up what I was doing, close to victory now. “No, LSU in Baton Rouge.”

I heard his breath catch when I pulled back his head and began to kiss his throat. “I know what you’re trying to do, lady, and it’s working admirably.”

“You must have a doctor’s degree,” I said, sitting up and settling myself atop him, then stripping my T-shirt off over my head. I tossed it behind me and knocked something off a table, but our eyes were locked when he put his hands around my waist.

“How about answering one more question before we move on to better things?” he asked.

“Okay. What?”

“How about frisking me one more time? You know, kick my feet out from under me and punch me in the stomach like you used to? That really turns me on.”

“So you liked that better than you let on, huh? You seemed a little miffed about the handcuffs and holding cell.”

“I didn’t know you well enough then.”

I said, “Get down on the floor, Black, and spread ’em.”

“I will if you will.”

I obliged him, with delightful results. Our first session together, all things considered, was a huge success.

Early the next morning Black took off again for a bunch of business and other shrink stuff, but around nine o’clock, when I was getting all depressed about the state of affairs and feeling all naked and vulnerable without my gun, I got a pleasant surprise. Dottie called me on my cell phone from downstairs and said she’d brought over the files on similar cases that Harve had promised to send Black.

I was sitting out on the breezy balcony alone, with a great big breakfast buffet warming under silver domes on the glass and wrought-iron sideboard, when Dottie appeared between sheer white draperies billowing around in the warm wind off the lake.

I jumped up as I was so glad to see her, and she ran over and gave me a tight, I-really-mean-it hug. I hugged her back, then held her at arm’s length, where I could look at her. She seemed more darkly tanned than usual, with her blond hair woven into two long braids hanging over her breasts. The hairstyle gave her the look of a Nordic goddess. She wore the snug black T-shirt with the University of Missouri Tiger paw print across the front, which I’d gotten her for her birthday almost a year ago, orange fluorescent cutoff shorts, and black-and-white Adidas running shoes. The outfit looked good on her toned body.

Dottie gave me a brilliant smile that shone very white against her tan. Her gold hoop earrings shook when she looked around the balcony. “Where’s the good-looking Doctor Black? Am I ever going to get to meet him again?”

“He’s working, but he’ll be back later.” I blushed and felt like a jerk for some reason.

“Uh-oh, looks like the two of you are getting along pretty well.”

When Dottie hugged me again, I laughed. “We’re getting along a lot better than before. He’s been great, putting me up here and keeping the media sharks at bay.”

Dottie gave me a knowing look. “Is he good in bed?”

“Dottie, would you stop? Who said I’m sleeping with him?”

“You didn’t have to say it. You’re not calling him names, so that means you’ve done the dirty, right?”

“Stop,” I said. “He’s been very helpful, very attentive.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”

We laughed together, but I really wanted to change the subject. “Are you hungry? Look at this setup we get every morning. You name it, it’s under one of those silver domes over there.”

“You know, don’t mind if I do. I am hungry.”

“Dig in.” I really wasn’t hungry at all, but I watched Dottie pick up a plate off the buffet table. She paused and gazed out over the lake.

“Wow, what a beautiful view.”

“It’s pretty nice out here. Black says you and Harve are welcome to come out any time you want and use the Cedar Bend facilities. No charge.”

“I guess that has something to do with you, right? Now that he’s your lover man.”

I didn’t say anything. She wasn’t going to worm any details out of me.

Dottie said, “Look at all those reporters out on the lake. What’d they do, sleep out in those boats? They can’t see us up here, can they?”

“Not if we stay back here in the shade. Trust me, I know. Is the press still outside your house? I’m worried about Harve.”

“Yeah, they’re around. Today I snuck out in my kayak and paddled straight in to Black’s private dock down there. Hope he doesn’t mind. There was some hot young guy in a uniform out there who called up to you for me.”

“That’s Tyler. He’s okay.”

“Harve said to apologize for him for not coming, but he’s not feeling so good since all this happened. He’s pretty upset and didn’t get much sleep last night, so I gave him a toddy. He’s resting now, so I really can’t stay too long. I’m going for a quick run with Suze, but I don’t want to leave him alone more than a couple of hours.” She grew serious. “What about you, Claire? Or, should I call you Annie now?”

“No, no. I’m Claire now. Making that change was important to me.”

She nodded, and her pigtails shook. “You know, I never had a clue, not for the last two years. You and Harve are pretty good at keeping secrets.”

I stood and watched her fill her plate with pancakes and bacon and fruit salad and just about everything else. Dottie had an amazing appetite, but she had just kayaked across the lake. I got us both cups of black coffee and icy glasses of orange juice and sat down beside her.

Dottie sipped her coffee and looked at me over the rim of her cup. Her gaze was very direct out from under long eyelashes she’d thickened with a lot more black mascara than she really needed. I hated make-up. It seemed silly to glob it all over a nice clean face.

I smiled. “I’m so glad you came by. I needed somebody to talk to.”

“I know. I had to make sure you were all right. You know what a worrier I am. Harve wanted you and Doctor Black to have these files, anyway, so I brought them myself instead of messengering them over. Here they are, before I forget.”

She unzipped the red backpack she’d carried in and took out a large brown mailing envelope and handed it to me. I placed it on the sideboard behind us and watched Dottie dig into her scrambled eggs.

After a while Dottie said, “Harve told me that you were decorated for bravery once out in L.A., when you saved another officer’s life. He said you were one of the youngest officers ever to get that kind of distinction, and that’s why they handled the deal with your family with kid gloves, out of respect for you, and all that.”

Harve had been talking too much, but I shrugged. “Yeah, but the press ate me alive.”

“I’m so sorry this had to come out again. But Harve said it was twice as bad the first time, when he was in the hospital all those months. Wish I’d known him then. I could’ve helped.”

Yeah, those were dark, dark months, and I didn’t want to talk about it and suddenly found myself wanting Dottie to leave.

Dottie touched her napkin to her mouth and frowned. “Now you’re upset, aren’t you? I shouldn’t be talking so much about all this.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“Here, have one of these yummy croissant rolls,” Dottie said, selecting one and dropping it on my empty plate. “And this fruit salad is outta this world. You got to have some of this.”

Dottie was feeling guilty about depressing me and was trying to make amends. To please her, I forked a chunk of watermelon out from among the cantaloupe and peaches and put it in my mouth. It tasted ice cold and sweet.

“Have you and Harve been watching the news channels?”

“Yes, but there’s nothing much new this morning. They got a few shots of you and Black yesterday in the helicopter, but you couldn’t tell who you were because of the tinted windows. I guess there’ll be a few of me in my kayak tonight at six. That’s how hard up they are. Next thing they’ll get is Harve cussing out the windows at them.” Dottie laughed.

“Tell him for me that we’re going to get through this, just like we did last time.” I sipped some cold orange juice and realized my lips were a little swollen from Black’s mouth. I hoped Dottie didn’t notice.

“Well, I guess I better shove off.”

“If you want to, I bet Tyler would load up your kayak in one of the Cobalts and run you out to where you want to go.”

“Thanks, but I need the exercise. Got to keep my muscles strong.” She flexed biceps that were more than impressive, and then was gone.

I sat awhile in the shade, staring into space, then heard the helicopter approaching. I stood up and moved to where I could see the helipad and watched the chopper land. John Booker got off, and I saw Black walk out on the dock to meet him. They chatted as they disappeared from my sight.

Eager to see Black, I walked down the hall toward his office. I stopped short when I heard Black say, “Tell me what you found out about Claire.”

At that point I decided blatant eavesdropping was not below me. I backed up a little to where they couldn’t see me but I could see them.

“Maybe you oughta sit down first.” That was Booker.

“Cut the suspense, Book. Just tell me.”

“The lady has not enjoyed a carefree life. According to hospital records, Annie Rose Baker was born at Lucy Lee Hospital in Poplar Bluff, Missouri. Mother’s maiden was Regina Ann Baker. Father’s name was not listed.”

I frowned because that wasn’t true. I watched Black frown and put his hands on his hips. “That’s not what she said. She said she was born in Dayton, Ohio.” Which was the truth, I thought.

Booker said, “Okay, then she’s lying to you. I’ve seen the hospital records.”

I watched Black dig in a desk drawer and pull out a Missouri road map, but I did not feel guilty about not making myself known. Hell, they were talking about me, weren’t they? Resentment was beginning to build inside me, as purple and black as the thunderclouds forming out across the lake. Black unfolded the map and spread it out.

“Poplar Bluff’s down near the Arkansas border, almost in the boot heel.” He looked at Booker. “What about her brother?”

“What brother?”

“The brother named Thomas.”

“That’s news to me. He doesn’t turn up in any records.”

Black stared at his investigator friend. “Are you telling me she fed me a pack of lies? Why would she do that?”

Booker frowned. “Why do you think, Nick? Maybe to get you off her back? Or mislead you? Listen, I got a lot of this from a lady who she and her mother lived with for a while. Her name’s Fannie Barrow.”

Black said, “What’d she say?”

Yeah, what did she say? Since I’ve never in my life heard of anybody named Fannie Barrow. John Booker was just full of bogus information about my life.

“She said she had an upstairs apartment she rented out back then. Nice old lady. Fed me homemade gingerbread and a glass of milk. She remembered the little girl’s name was Annie, said she was a pretty little thing with long blond hair, but real shy. The father was a doctor named Herman Landers, and he was an embalmer or undertaker or something like that, but Regina, the mother, took Annie and left him and rented Fannie’s place.”

“Are you sure she never mentioned Regina’s son?”

“No, just a little girl with blond hair. Okay, here’s where it gets dicey. The father apparently died in a house fire, and then, not long after that, the mother, Regina, just up and disappeared. Nobody knew what happened to her.”

I shut my eyes. Here it came in all the gory details. I hated the eager interest I heard in Black’s voice.

“What happened to Claire then?”

“Mrs. Barrow said that Regina’s younger sister, Annie’s Aunt Kathy, came and got Annie and took her to Pensacola, where Kathy and her husband, Tim, were going to school at the University of West Florida.”

“Did you check that out?”

“Oh yeah. Tim and Kathy Owens lived in a town called Ferry Pass, not far from the university. They took her in, all right. I saw it in the newspaper accounts about Regina’s disappearance and how her poor little girl was left all alone in Fannie’s upstairs apartment until her aunt and uncle took her home with them to Florida.”

“How old was Annie when all this happened?”

“Around ten or eleven, I think. Listen to this: she lives with the aunt and uncle until Uncle Tim disappears when he’s out fishing at some lake. Less than a year later, Aunt Kathy commits suicide, apparently overcome with grief for her husband.”

“Good God.”

“Cut her wrists in the bathtub. Annie came home from school and found her dead and soaking in blood.”

I put my hand on the door frame to steady myself, remembering that terrible day like it was yesterday. Pain stabbed into me, but Black didn’t stop with the questions.

“Claire told me some people around her had died. I thought she just meant her ex-husband and son.”

Booker made a little whistle. “Yeah, and that’s way too much as it is. Anyway, she got passed around in foster care awhile until she graduated from high school in Pensacola and got a full scholarship to Louisiana State University.”

“She told me she went to LSU. She didn’t lie about that.”

“Really? Well, guess what? Annie’s college roommate at Louisiana State died, too. Her name was Katie Olsen. She slipped one night and broke her neck on a flight of stairs. That was ruled an accident, too.”

I shut my eyes and clamped my jaw. I’d suffered agony trying not to think about these things, and now John Booker was tossing the intimate details of my life around like handfuls of confetti. But I kept listening, hoping maybe he’d found out something I didn’t know about myself, something I needed to hear.

“Go ahead, Nick, listen to the rest of this stuff, then tell me it’s all coincidental. Annie quit college after the Olsen girl got killed and headed west and looked up her Uncle Tim’s mother in Orange County. A lady named Margaret Owens. Margaret was recently widowed and mourning Tim’s and Kathy’s deaths and gladly took Annie in as part of her family. That’s when Annie went through the police academy, graduated near the top of her class, joined the LAPD, got married to some guy named Todd Blue, and had a son she named Zachary. All in that order.”

That was all true. But the worst was yet to come, and I wasn’t sure I was up to hearing it told aloud in such a cold, unfeeling way. Or maybe that was the best way to hear it, without emotion and pain and guilt and remorse. I didn’t move, couldn’t.

“So there were no more accidents during this time?”

“You mean corpses? Not for almost ten years, then things blew up in L.A., and you already know about all that.”

“I don’t know how it went down, just that people died. Claire wasn’t comfortable talking about it, and I didn’t want to force her.”

Booker said, “I talked to a friend of mine at the LAPD. He said that that guy you told me you met the other night, Harve? He was Annie’s partner. Her husband was insanely jealous of Harve and accused the two of them of having an affair. Said somebody saw them together. Of course, they were always working together, but the sex part wasn’t true, according to my source. Still, Annie’d had enough of Blue’s possessiveness by that time, so she and Zachary moved back in with Tim’s mother. Margaret watched the kid while Annie was on duty.”

“So she went to live with her uncle’s mother, who really wasn’t blood kin?”

I took a deep breath and forced myself to stand still.

“That’s right. I guess she didn’t have any other family to turn to. One night the husband snapped. Nobody knows for sure exactly what set him off, but he bludgeoned Margaret Owens to death in her bed with a Louisville Slugger baseball bat then took off with Zachary. He found Annie and Harve on patrol, opened fire, and hit them both before they could take cover. When Harve got a slug in the spine, Annie shot Blue dead. She didn’t know her kid was in the car. The slug went through her husband’s body and hit her little boy in his car seat.”