The Craving (26 page)

Geri couldn’t help smiling a little, then said, “So somebody can vouch for you being in New York?”

“Yeah, somebody can vouch,” Ramon said.
“Mi madre.”

“You were with your mother all week?”

“I live with my mother,” Ramon said. “After my father died she was lonely and didn’t want to be alone, so I had her move in with me. It works out with me, especially since I’ve got a kid. My kid’s mom left, so…” He seemed to be getting emotional. “Anyway, it’s nice to have my mother around to help out.”

Geri didn’t think he was acting anymore. Despite his ladies’-man persona, he seemed like a genuinely good guy. She also couldn’t help
noticing that he smelled nice too. It wasn’t deodorant or cologne, it was just him, but it was arousing. She noticed he was looking right in her eyes again.

“You’re staring at me,” she said.

“Sorry,” he said. “When I look at something beautiful it’s hard to look away.”

Normally, a line like that would’ve grossed her out or made her laugh, but she was getting aroused again. Desperately trying to keep it professional, she said, “Did Diane tell you why she was moving to Michigan?”

“No, she just kind of started blowing me off, you know? Maybe she was upset ’cause her friend disappeared or maybe she thought it wasn’t working out, but that was cool. I’m not the kinda guy who puts pressure on a woman, know what I mean? If it ain’t workin’ out, that’s chill, I let them be.”

“So you didn’t talk on the phone at all?” Geri asked.

“No.” Ramon was giving her that look again. “Sorry,” he said, “I can’t help it.”

Crossing her legs, Geri asked, “What about Olivia Becker? Did Diane mention anything that was going on with her?”

“Just that she was worried about her, thought she was acting weird.”

“Weird how?

“Maybe
weird
’s the wrong word,” Ramon said. “Crazy. She thought Olivia was going
loco
. And I only met Olivia a couple times.”

“Did she tell you about any problems Olivia was having with Michael?”

“No, and trust me, the problem was Olivia, not Michael,” Ramon said. “I mean I know Michael can be kind of weird himself when you
first meet him. He has that whole strong, silent type thing going on, and that funny accent. But once you get to know him you find out how chill he really is. You got a boyfriend?”

“What?” Geri said.

“Tienes un novio?”

“I heard you,” she said.

“Sorry I’m staring at you again, but I just can’t help myself,” he said. “I just love looking at your eyes too much. And they tell a story.”

“What story is that?” she asked weakly.

“About a girl,” Ramon said. “She acts tough, works all day long, but when it comes down to it, she just wants to be loved, like everybody else.”

“I should probably go now,” she said, but she didn’t get up.

“I know you’re feeling our connection right now,” Ramon said. “I see it in your eyes, the way you’re looking at me right now, and I feel it too. You’re the one I’ve been waiting for my whole life. I know what you’re thinkin’ right now—he probably says that to every beautiful woman he meets, and I’ll be honest with you, I have said it before. But I never meant it the way I do right now. I don’t care if we just met and we hardly know each other. Like Michael says, ‘You can hide hate, but you can’t hide love,’ and I know this is the real thing and you know it too. I know you know it.”

Geri knew this was wrong. While she didn’t believe that Ramon had had anything to do with Diane Coles’s murder, he was still a witness, a potential suspect, and she shouldn’t be flirting with him. But she couldn’t deny that she did feel an unusually strong connection with him. It was crazy, but she felt it.

“When am I going to see you again?” he asked.

“If I have any more questions, I’ll be in touch,” she said.

He reached out and grabbed her hand.

“I don’t mean that,” he said. “You know what I mean. I mean just the two of us, one-on-one, someplace where we can be alone.”

She wanted to move her hand, but then she didn’t want to anymore. His hand felt good and she thought maybe this wasn’t so wrong after all. Yeah, she was questioning him, but was he really a witness? She had no evidence that he had any connection to the deaths of Olivia Becker and Diane Coles, and besides, this wasn’t even her case. She could’ve met him on the street or at a bar, and would anything be wrong with it then?

“Come on, I know you want to see me again,” Ramon said. “You can’t hide from it. You gotta admit it. You gotta be free.”

His dark eyes were like magnets, pulling her in, but she wasn’t afraid, not anymore.

“I’m free tonight,” she heard herself say.

I
nto their second glass of Chardonnay, Alison was telling Vijay about her troubles with Simon when their legs touched. Alison could’ve shifted away, but she didn’t, wanting to see if Vijay would move any closer. She was glad that he didn’t.

“Maybe it’s just a phase,” Vijay said.

“No, I don’t think so,” Alison said. “I thought so at first, but it’s gone on too long, almost a month. I don’t know. It’s so crazy.”

Alison knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t help it. She was too distracted by the feel of her leg against Vijay’s, wanting to be closer to him. With the top buttons of his shirt open she could see his smooth tan chest.

“And you really think there’s someone else?” he asked.

She realized she was staring at his chest and shifted her gaze back toward his eyes. “I don’t know,” she said. “Yes, probably. I mean, his
behavior has changed so much, there has to be someone. That’s what I thought originally, but I think I’ve just been, I don’t know, in denial. I thought it might be Christina, our babysitter, but that’s probably crazy. I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Alison started crying. She didn’t want to cry—it made her feel weak, and she hated feeling weak—but the stress that had been building up all day was too much and she needed a release.

Vijay took her wineglass from her and placed it on the coffee table, then put an arm around her and pulled her in close against his chest. She hadn’t cried with the motive of getting Vijay to hold her, but she was glad it had worked out this way. Being close to him felt so good, so right, and then they were kissing. She didn’t know who kissed who first; all she knew was that she was kissing this solid, supportive man and it felt great.

As they kissed, Vijay had his hand on her right leg, just above her knee, and he was kneading her with his fingertips. She wanted him to move his hand higher and, as if he could read her mind, his hand moved to the inside of her thigh, and she had a hand on his chest and she was biting on his lip, sucking on it, while she was thinking,
I want more, please give me more
. Responding, he had his other hand under her shirt, feeling her hardening nipple over her bra, and she moved her hand lower, over the bulge in his jeans. She wanted him to attack her, to tear off her clothes and pin her down to the couch, or maybe the floor, yes the floor, and feel his naked body on top of her.

Then she heard, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

She was so caught up it took a moment or two to register that they weren’t making out anymore, and he’d shifted away from her on the couch.

“Okay.” It was hard for her to get a full breath. “I mean, if that’s what you want.”

“It’s not a matter of what I want,” he said, “it’s a matter of what I think is right. You’re an extremely beautiful, exciting woman and I love spending time with you, but you have to figure out what you’re doing in your marriage; that has to be your priority right now.”

She knew he was right, but she still wanted to be under him on the floor.

“That makes sense,” she said. “I mean, I get what you’re saying.”

They finished their wine and, holding hands, talked about other things. Vijay told her about a recent trip to Italy and how he’d love to go back. It was easy to imagine being in Rome with Vijay, taking long walks and having romantic dinners. Then they talked about recent shows and movies they’d seen, music—they both liked live jazz—and about Southampton, where Vijay owned a summer house. It was easy to fantasize about falling in love with Vijay, marrying him, and having a normal life in the city. Maybe they could even have a child together. The idea of another kid with Simon had been off the table for a while, but since he’d lost his job it had officially been shelved, since making it with two kids in the city on their current income was a financial impossibility. But Vijay had mentioned a few times how much he loved children and how he couldn’t wait to be a dad someday. Alison wanted another kid too, and her clock was ticking, and she had no doubt that Vijay would make a wonderful father.

Alison was dying to kiss him again.

He must have sensed what she was thinking, or maybe he just saw her staring at his lips, because he asked, “So what do you think you’re going to do?”

She knew he meant about her marriage, and she said, “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

“Well, all I can say from the point of view of a guy who’s divorced is if you decide to leave him you should do it with a good conscience, especially when there’s a
child involved. You want to make sure you’ve done everything you can to save the marriage before you leave, and that if you leave you’re leaving for the right reasons.”

“We’ve been in counseling for a long time and it hasn’t helped,” she said. “We’ve tried everything.”

“But you still don’t know what’s going on with him, so the question you have to ask yourself is, do you really want to know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you considered hiring a PI? If you’re right and there is someone else, then you’ll know you left for the right reasons. Then again, you might prefer not knowing.”

“No, I definitely want to know,” Alison said. “I’ve thought about hiring a PI, but maybe you’re right. Maybe I should just do it and find out once and for all.”

“I have an old friend who’s a PI, has a big agency here in the city,” Vijay said. “His name’s, don’t laugh, Stephen Tyler.”

Alison laughed.

“He spells it with a
ph
, not a
v
,” Vijay said. “Anyway, he’s here in the city and he’s very discreet and professional. If you give him a few days he’ll tell you what’s going on and, one way or another, you’ll have a much clearer picture. Just don’t make any Aerosmith jokes, he’s heard them all.”

After all the chaos and weirdness she’d endured lately, the concept of “a clearer picture” was very appealing to Alison, so, figuring she had nothing to lose, she took Stephen Tyler’s contact information. She didn’t want to overstay her welcome, so she said she should probably get going now. At the door she told him she had a great time, and Vijay said he had a great time too, and they kissed good-bye. She didn’t want the kiss to end.

Several minutes later, she was wandering downtown on Broadway,
fantasizing again about being with Vijay in Rome, when her cell phone buzzed. She hoped it was Vijay, telling her what a wonderful time he’d had because that was what she was planning to text him, but the message was from Simon:

Annoyed, Alison deleted the message and typed a happy one to Vijay.

S
imon ran with Volker all night. While it was a thrill to have a companion, a fellow werewolf, to run with, it was also a great learning experience. Despite his age—as a human Volker had deep wrinkles and appeared to be at least ninety years old—Volker was a very fast, agile werewolf. He was much quicker than Simon, but this was mainly because Simon still wasn’t fully comfortable in his wolf’s body. That started to change, though, after several hours of running with Volker. Simon learned how to trust his new animal instincts and to use more of his speed. He also learned how to be a great tree climber. This was more amazing because, in his normal human body, he’d never been a very good climber. When he was growing up, his friends could climb to the highest branches of trees, but he was always the one who was too afraid to climb very high. But following Volker’s lead, Simon was able to climb to the highest branch of a tree, where,
because he was certain there were no humans in the area, he howled as loud as he could.

At one point, Volker stopped running and squatted. Simon was confused until the odor hit and he knew Volker was pooping. When Volker was through, he buried the poop in the ground using his feet/claws as shovels, and then he indicated that it was Simon’s turn. Simon had to go, so he pooped and then buried it the way Volker had. While Simon was vaguely aware that this was weird, mainly he felt very normal pooping in the woods, as if he’d been doing it forever.

In the middle of the night, probably around four in the morning, the brightness of the moon faded, and Volker settled to rest. Simon lay next to him, feeling, strangely, as if he were part of the ground, that when he inhaled, his breath went into the earth, and when he exhaled, air from the earth left his mouth. If he’d been on drugs this would have been a seriously good trip.