Moon Music (23 page)

"Your boyfriend looks lost," Poe said.

"I'll go rescue him," Patricia said.

After she had left, Rukmani turned to Poe. "Are you all right? You're snapping your fingers, albeit silently."

Poe clasped his hands as he stole a glance his mother's way. She was filibustering around the pork spare ribs. He whispered, "Act casual, okay?"

Rukmani smiled with concern. "What is it?"

"My mother has cancer….
Casual
, Ruki."

Quickly, she laughed to hide her shock. Under her breath, she muttered, "Oh my God!"

"Also, I got a page from Steve about twenty minutes ago. Alison's been sick for the past couple of days. He's worried about her."

"So tell him to call a
doctor
."

Poe kept his patience. "He had to go out tonight with the kids—an open house at their school. He didn't want to leave Alison unattended, but he had no choice. He asked me to stop by just for a short time. I think I should."

Rukmani fought anger. "Considering what you just told me about your mother, I think Alison should wait."

"If Alison had called, I would have said no. But being as Steve called…" Poe forced a smile. "It must be bad."

"Not as bad as your mother." Her voice rose. "I think you've got your priorities mixed up, Sergeant."

"Shhhh," Poe whispered. "My mother is my first priority. But she's going to need a
lot
of my time. Alison I could probably polish off in an hour. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to take the car. Could you take my mom back home in a cab? I'll be there as fast as I can. Then, with my mind clear, we can deal with the greater issue."

Rukmani boiled with rage. But she knew better than to start up. No matter how many certificates and degrees she had amassed, she never quite felt peerage with men. Too many years of subservience at too young an age. She took a deep yoga breath, let it out in measured seconds. "Do what you have to do. I'll take care of your mother."

"Don't mention anything—"

"Rom, I'm not stupid."

"I didn't mean to…" Poe looked over his shoulder, at his mother, who was rapturing over the wontons. He met Rukmani's eyes. "If you weren't in my life, I'd be going nuts. Your help is not only appreciated, but invaluable. Thank you."

Rukmani nodded, continued to yoga-breathe. After a minute, she was able to shunt away the fury. She peered into Rom's eyes—incredibly stressed. Why hadn't she noticed it before? She was a doctor, for God's sake. He needed her professionally as well as emotionally.

"I'm very sorry," she said softly. "What kind of cancer does she have?"

Poe sighed, then remembered to smile. "Leukemia. Isn't that usually a kids' disease?"

"Yes, but adults get it as well. Do you know what kind?"

"She told me, but I wasn't processing the information too well."

"Lymphocytic? Myelogenous?"

"You're looking a bit intense for lighthearted conversation, Ruki."

She laughed. "Better?"

"Much." Poe took her hand. "I think she said something about lymph nodes. I have some of her medical records that she brought with her from Reno. She stole them from the offices, hid them in her mahjong set."

"I can see that your mother's a fighter."

"Absolutely." But Poe had seen despair in Emma's eyes. "I skimmed some of the papers, but was lost. Doctors have their own jargon. They're back at the house."

"Has she undergone any treatment?"

"Not yet."

"Oh boy." Rukmani kissed his hand and grinned. "The hordes are returning, piled platters of food in hand."

Poe raised his wineglass. "A toast to Emma. For a long, healthy life."

Ruki clinked his glass. "Amen, brother, amen."

In the most cheerful voice she could muster, Alison called out, "I'm in the bedroom, guys."

Poe said, "It's me, Alison. Can I come in?"

She became cross. "You're already
in
."

"Can I come in the bedroom?"

Quickly, Alison pulled out a compact from her nightstand. She dabbed on blush, smoothing it over her pale cheeks with the tips of her fingers. A smattering of lipstick. Nothing else. That would be overdoing it. She brushed her silken hair, straightened her slinky robe, the hem falling a couple of inches above her ankles. After plumping up her pillows, she sat up straight.

"Come in."

Poe opened the door. "Steve asked me to check in on you. He said you weren't feeling well."

"Steve?" She made a face.

"He said you had a nasty case of the flu." He regarded her face. "You look pretty good, actually."

"Pretty good?"

"Very good," Poe amended. He sat down on the corner of her bed. "How do you feel?"

She sighed. "Comes and goes. I'll live. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

Alison's eyes bored into his. "You're lying."

"Can I get you something to drink?"

She continued to study him. "You're acting distant."

"It's fatigue. Can I get you something to drink?"

"How about some wine?"

"How about some orange juice?"

She shrugged. "You're no fun."

"I know." Poe felt his patience ebb. "You've told me that many times in the past." He left the room, then returned a moment later holding a glass of juice. "Here. Drink."

Alison took the glass and sipped, eyeing him over the rim of the glass. "You're supposed to be cheering me up, not weighing me down."

Poe was quiet. Alison leaned over, patted his hand, then sat back up. "You're looking rather buff, Rommie. Have you been working out?"

"A weight here and there. Nothing that should make a difference. But thanks for the compliment."

She drank her juice and waited for him to carry his fair share of the conversation. When he didn't, she said,

"You're acting very stiff. Is your girlfriend giving you problems?"

"Not at all." Poe paused. "My mother's in town."

"Aha!" Alison said triumphantly. "I knew it was something."

"She's going to be staying here for a while. Remus has a big project. I told him I'd take her off his hands."

"Do-gooders never prosper."

"You're right about that."

"Why don't you bring her by? She always liked me. I think she was always hoping that…you know…you and I would…"

Wasn't my fault that we didn't
. Poe said, "Maybe after she gets settled into her apartment, I'll bring her by."

"I always thought your mother was real cute."

"Cute?"

"Well, maybe I mean…attentive."

"When she wasn't drunk, she was very attentive."

"You're so hard on people, Romulus. Why do you always look at life in a negative fashion? It's your downfall. No one wants to be around a sourpuss."

"I'm not being negative, I'm being truthful. I love my mother dearly, but she was a drunk. Still is, for that matter." He stood. "Can I get some juice? I'm very thirsty."

"Be my guest."

He left for her kitchen, poured himself a tall glass of OJ, then laced it with Stoly. He guzzled half the tumbler, then came back into the bedroom. "Much better."

"So…how is she?"

"Mom's been better, but she's still alive and kicking."

Alison licked her lips, hiked up her robe an inch or so. "I meant your doctor girlfriend."

"Rukmani's fine."

"Doesn't she have grown children?"

"Yes."

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"Why should it bother me? They don't live at home."

"I mean that she's so…she's Stephen's age, isn't she?"

"A little older, actually."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"No."

"What happened to you?" Alison teased. "You used to be so picky."

"I'm still very picky. Why are you asking questions about Rukmani? You've never been interested in my girlfriends before."

Alison tensed. "I was just making conversation. Forgive me if I touched a nerve."

Poe laughed. "Like you'd care a heap even if you did. What else can I get you?"

"How about a good lay?"

"Alison—"

"You never deliver on the real important issues."

"
Au contraire
, I did deliver at one time. But that was then and this is now. What has gotten into you today? Virus must have gone to your head."

Alison folded her arms in front of her chest and sulked, waiting for him to initiate conversation. When he remained silent, she tried another tactic, trying to sound as casual as a summer's eve. "How's the case coming? The one that reminded you of the Bogeyman case."

"I have a few leads. We'll solve it. It'll just take time."

"Nice to have such confidence. They never solved the Bogeyman case, you know."

"I know. But I wasn't on the force back then."

Alison laughed—tinkly and light. When she smiled, she was so beautiful. Again, she kept her voice airy. "So what do you know about it?"

"My case or the Bogeyman case?"

"Both."

Poe regarded her. "A couple of weeks ago…when we talked. You told me you remembered the Bogeyman quite well."

"Yes."

"Do you know for certain how many victims he took down?"

"I told you I thought he had killed at least two. If my mom…well, then maybe it would have been three."

Poe scratched his head. "Interesting. I only found one case file in his time period that matched the Bogeyman's MO."

Abruptly, Alison turned pouty. Poe sighed. "What did I say this time?"

She shook her head.

He stood. "So don't tell me—"

"Did you look up my mother's file?"

"No." He regarded her. "I wouldn't invade your privacy."

"Just that I told you that she could have been his victim. I thought maybe—"

"You thought wrong."

Alison inspected him with hard eyes. "Considerate of you to be thinking about
me
instead of your
case
."

"That's me. Just one heck of a considerate guy." Poe checked his watch. "Steve should be coming home. I'd better go."

"Didn't he send you over here in the first place?"

"It doesn't mean he wants to see me when he gets home. Refresh your drink before I go?"

"Not unless you add vodka to mine like you did to yours."

"I can indulge." Poe smiled. "I'm not sick."

"Not yet."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just that I hope my virus isn't contagious."

Without thinking, he leaned over and kissed her on the lips. "Hope not. Good night."

She didn't answer.

"I said good night, Gracie."

Alison turned away, refusing to acknowledge his departure.

He shrugged and walked out of the room, making a mental note to look up her mother's suicide file.

TWENTY-TWO

P
OE WATCHED
as suds from his beer dripped over the rim of his glass and onto his fingers, thinking:
I don't want to go home.
I really
don't
want to go home.

Honey said, "I think you need a napkin." Tenderly, she wiped his hand, then kneeled before him, her long pink peignoir sweeping over the floor like a bridal train. She looked up with those oh-so-concerned eyes that could only belong to professional call girls delivering TLC at $250 an hour. She placed her hands on his knees, her nails long and red. "Tell me how I can make the boo-boo better."

"You just did." Poe was full of self-loathing. The pathetic call he had made to Rukmani:
It's taking a little longer than I expected
. A lame excuse, as if Rukmani hadn't seen through it. She had said nothing over the phone, but her former words kept chastising his war-weary brain.
This isn't about blow jobs, it's
about responsibility.

He said, "I think I'm getting married."

Honey broke into a bright smile. "That's wonderful." A pause. "Are you happy about it?"

"Very."

"Rukmani?"

"Yes."

"You two are a great couple."

"I think so."

Honey hedged. "Tolerant of each other's needs."

"Up to a point."

"Ah!" She paused. "So is this your finale?"

Poe sipped beer. "Maybe. Anyway, if you don't hear from me, at least you'll know it had nothing to do with you."

"I'm egotistical enough to assume it never has anything to do with me." She tapped his knees, then stood. "Rukmani's so…accomplished. Especially when you consider where she came from. I wish you two lots of happiness."

"Thank you."

"When's the big day?"

"I don't know."

She cocked her head in a coy manner. "Tentative, are we?"

"It's mostly for her. Her first marriage was more bondage than partnership. She's a little commitment-shy."

"And you?"

He smiled. "More like tentative." He thought a moment. "Honey, how long were you with Parker Lewiston?"

She was taken aback. "Where did that come from?"

"Just curious."

She wagged her finger at him. "A good woman never kisses and tells."

"I'm not asking you for details, just a time frame."

Honey chuckled. "We were together around two years."

"And he was good to you?"

"The best."

"Kinky?"

"Sergeant, I do believe that falls under kissing and telling."

Poe plowed on. "And his taste in women…"

"Was excellent."

"He didn't hide some nasty perversion in the closet?"

"Why are you so interested in Parker Lewiston?"

"Remember about two weeks ago, I showed you a picture of a murdered hooker?"

"How could I forget? You shoved it in my face."

"Supposedly she was one of Parker's."

"And?"

"He denied knowing her."

"So?"

Poe finished off his Dos Equis, then debated having another brew. Honey's was stocked better than most bars. "Just wondering why he'd lie like he did."

Honey poured herself a cup of coffee. "Could be a number of reasons. You could have gotten your information wrong. Or Parker might not have remembered such a cheap little slut."

"You just said his taste in women was excellent."

Honey frowned. "His taste in his real women."