Killer Summer

by Lynda Curnyn

  I pulled a twenty out of my pocket. “Get me a beer. A Stella Artois. And get yourself whatever you want.”

  Zoe looked at me with surprise. “Thanks, Nick.”

  See? I could be a good guy in times of plenty. Okay, semi-plenty. But I was working on that. I turned to Les.“Oh, dude, sorry man. You need anything from the bar?”

  “Not from the bar, no,” Les said, a gleam in his eye.

  “Oh yeah? What can I do for you, buddy?”

  “You gotta hook me up with that chick, dude. She’s amazing.”

  I looked around again, trying to site out the object of his desire, but all I saw was Sage heading for the restroom.“Who, dude?”

  He shook his head at me, as if it were obvious. “Sage. She’s pretty fucking cool. Do you know she’s a Nick Cave fan? I was weaned on fucking Nick Cave. And she’s hot, man.”

  I must have been looking at him funny, because he said,“I mean, if you’re not already hooked up with her, dude.”

  “Nah.” I saw Les frown and realized he was wondering why I wasn’t hooked up with Sage. “I mean, we had a minor…thing a long, long time ago,” I hedged, hoping he didn’t verify with Sage at some point. “But we’re friends now, you know?”

  “Cool. Then hook me up, dude. I’m counting on you.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks. I better go. We’re going on in a few minutes.”

  “Hey, break a leg, okay?”

  He laughed. I mean a genuine laugh. I don’t think I’d ever even seen Les smile before that.

  “I don’t need to, dude. I’m feeling inspired, if you know what I mean.”

  Then he took off, happy as a fucking clam. I watched him high-five Cliff Jackson, his bass player, and I nearly laughed myself. Shit, he had it bad.

  Then I saw Sage returning from the bathroom, and I prayed she might have felt the same vibe for Les. I mean, he wasn’t exactly her type, but you never know, right?

  “Hey,” Sage said. “Band going on soon?”

  I nodded, studying her green eyes and wide mouth. Yeah, I could see why Les was hooked. Sage always had that look. Like she’d just climbed out of bed—or was looking to climb back in. I don’t mean that in a bad way. She just had this sexy, unkempt look. Not that she was unkempt. If Sage was anything like Bern— or any of the other women I knew—she probably spent a good hour getting herself to look that tousled. “So what’d you think of Les?” I asked.

  “He seemed like a nice guy,” she said. Then she narrowed her eyes at me. “Why?”

  “Nothing,” I said innocently. I knew from long experience, you had to play these kind of things cool with Sage. “It’s just that he thought you were pretty cool.”

  She smiled, then shrugged. “Not my type.”

  “What do you mean, not your type?”

  She thought about this for a moment. “Too young.”

  That threw me. “Too young? Sage, he’s thirty-three. That’s two years older than you—and a heck of a lot older than most of the guys you date.“

  She shrugged again. “People change, Nick. Maybe I’ve changed.”

  She looked the same to me, I thought, watching as she sized up a leather-clad twenty-year-old who strolled by. But I didn’t have time to argue. Mostly I didn’t feel like it. This was my night, after all.

  As if on cue, Zoe returned with beers for both of us.

  “Nothing for me?” Sage said, as Zoe handed me my beer. “I thought we were supposed to have a toast for my promotion. Gonna be pretty hard, if I don’t have a drink.”

  Shit. Now I’d fucked up. “Sorry, Sage. Look, let me get you something. The best tequila in the house for the new sales manager of Edge.”

  “Never mind,” she said, taking off for the bar.

  I looked at Zoe. “Oops.”

  “We’ll do a toast, Nick. Don’t sweat it. Besides, Tom is having a dinner party in her honor Saturday night at the beach.”

  “Oh yeah?” I replied. “That’s cool.” Still, I probably should get Sage a little toasted tonight. Not just because of her promotion, either. But because it was clear I was going to need to get her a little looped in order for her to show some interest in Les. Though I wasn’t sure that would even work. She could be damn difficult, that Sage. Maybe Les would forget about her. I mean, there were other chicks out there, right? He’d get over it.

  Sage returned with her usual tequila on the rocks. “Bartender bought me a drink. Pretty nice, right?”

  Maybe there weren’t many chicks out there like Sage. She was something, I thought, praying Les would get over it. He was a big boy. Besides, he had his career to think of now.

  I looked around nervously, noticing that the crowd hadn’t thickened very much. “Did you e-mail your list?” I said to Sage, with a bit more accusation than I intended.

  She frowned at me. “Of course I did, Nick. I said I would. But it’s not easy to get people to come out and see a band at eleven o’clock on a Thursday night. Most people have to work in the morning.”

  It was that kind of attitude that really pissed me off. “I don’t get people. I mean, you can sleep when you’re dead.”

  “Or when you’re old,” Zoe said with a chuckle.

  “I’m not getting old,” I replied with a smirk.

  “We all get old,” Sage said.

  “Yeah, and we all die,” Zoe said. Then she frowned. “Though some of us sooner than absolutely necessary, I think.”

  I saw Sage send her a look. I didn’t blame her. Zoe was pretty wiggy ever since Maggie died. “Hey, let’s move on to a better topic,” I said, holding up my beer. “To Sage Daniels, the best fucking sales manager Edge Leather ever had.”

  Sage smiled.“I'll drink to that,“ she said, raising her glass to clink with ours.

  But she had just barely taken a sip when I saw her eyes widen with anger, this time directed at me.

  “What the fuck is she doing here?” she asked.

  I followed Sage’s gaze and saw Francesca waltzing through the crowd. Holy shit, she actually came. I felt a little excitement move through me. I wasn’t sure if this was because of what she was wearing—black mini, stilettos and just about the tiniest tank top I’d ever seen—or simply because she’d shown up. All because I’d asked.

  “Nick, what did I tell you about messing with Tom’s daughter?” Sage began.

  “I’m not messing with her!” I said. God, but I wanted to do something with her, I thought, watching as she raised her gaze above the onlookers she left in her wake—and there were a lot of them—before settling it on me. Okay, now I was excited. Would Sage be able to tell? Good thing these jeans weren’t tight. “I only invited her ‘cause she needs a little help with her musical taste. I mean,Britney Spears? C’mon…”

  “Nick—” Sage began.

  “Hey, at least she’s getting something from Britney. Like fashion inspiration,” Zoe said with a small smile.“I think she may even have more midriff showing than the goddess of exposure herself.”

  “Look,” I said, ignoring Zoe’s amused comments and focusing on Sage. “She’s staying with Tom for the summer and she’s got no friends in town. She’s lonely.”

  “Yeah, she looks lonely,” Sage said, gesturing with her chin.

  I looked back at Francesca, who had just been waylaid by a giant thug of a guy. Shit.

  “You better keep your eye on her, Nick,” Sage said.“If anything happens to her while she’s out with you, Tom is going to—”

  “Okay, okay,” I said, stomping off in Francesca’s direction. A guy can’t even do a nice thing in this world anymore without catching shit.

  “Nick!” Francesca called out as I stepped up to her and the giant. Then she wrapped an arm around my neck, pulled me down to her mouth and planted a big one right on my lips. Whoa. Clearly I’d made some headway by inviting her here.

  Then I looked up at the giant, saw the obvious surprise in his face and realized that maybe Francesca’s intention had been to make hea
dway with him.

  “Hey, dude, no offense, but the lady is here as my guest.”

  “Is that right?” the giant replied, his surprise now turning to anger.

  Damn. Did she have to start things up with a guy, like, twice the size of me?

  I looked at Francesca, saw the wide-eyed look she gave me, and realized for the first time how very young she was. Almost innocent. If that were possible.

  Possible or not, I felt a surge of something in that moment. Something that made me say to my giant friend, “Yeah, buddy, that’s right. She’s with me. You wanna make something of it?”

  The minute I said the words, I was pretty freaked. I mean, this guy could fucking kill me with one good whack of that beefy fist. But the most amazing thing happened.

  He didn’t.

  Instead, he held up both his hands, as if disavowing all claim to Francesca, and backed away.

  Backed the fuck away.

  Needless to say, I was feeling mighty pleased with myself when I walked up to Sage and Zoe with Francesca on my arm.

  Though Sage was none too pleased with me, it was clear.

  But she didn’t have time to put in her two cents. Not only because Francesca was smiling in her usual queenly fashion at her, but because Nose Dive had just taken the stage.

  “Is everybody ready to rock and roll?” Les barked into the mike. For a quiet guy, he sure did have stage presence. I gave him the thumbs-up, glancing around as I did. A handful of people had gathered before the stage. Okay, so we weren’t going to take down the house, but it was their first show at Don Hill’s, right?

  Then the guitarist,Jess Gunther, laid into his Stratocaster, moving into the opening of “Like a River.” I closed my eyes to savor the melody. It was an instant classic. God, these guys were even more awesome live.

  I opened my eyes just as Les began the opening lyric, savoring the words. Genius. The guy was a fucking genius. I couldn’t wait to hear the rest of the songs. Les said he had some new material he was going to try out tonight, which was cool, because I wanted to get these guys in the studio and get this CD recorded ASAP.

  I turned to look at Zoe and Sage.“Pretty brilliant stuff, right?”

  Sage looked at me, as if trying to come up with an appropriate response.

  “Makes me want to slash my wrists,” Zoe replied.

  “Yeah, that’s it. It’s kinda depressing, Nick,” Sage said.

  Jesus. Were they paying attention? “Listen to that melody. It’s genius.”

  Sage shrugged. What was I even bothering asking them for? Sage can’t tolerate a song she can’t shake her hips to, and Zoe is into that vagina rock. Talk about slashing your wrists. You had to have PMS to listen to the stuff Zoe listens to.

  “Hey, at least somebody likes it, Nick,” Sage said, gesturing with her chin toward the stage as the band rolled into the next song.

  I looked up to see that Francesca had disappeared from my side and was standing before the stage, front and center, her eyes fixed on Les, mesmerized.

  “Well, there you have it,” I said, with no small satisfaction. “That’s the demographic anyway, from a music business point of view.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Zoe asked.

  “Not that I plan on catering to such things,” I said, “but most of the music-buying public is young.”

  “And what are we, old?” Sage replied dryly.

  “Well,” I said, gesturing to Francesca, who had begun to sway in time to the music. “Older than her.”

  Now I’d managed to piss them both off. Hey, if you can’t take it, don’t dish it out. It wasn’t like anyone was going out of their way to make me feel fucking cheery. This was the band that was gonna launch my label, for chrissakes. Show a little support, would you?

  Still, I was relieved when the next song began. The tempo was faster, the lyrics more lively. I looked over and noticed that though Zoe stood stock-still—she wasn’t much of a dancer anyway— Sage, at least, had begun to move those famous hips of hers.

  And Francesca…

  She was grinding her hips up there like she wanted to…

  Fuck. I was going to have to keep an eye on her.

  But it was going to be my pleasure. Oh, yeah.

  I didn’t care what Sage said. Francesca was of age, and if Tom had anything to say about it, he could talk to me directly. Besides, I thought Tom liked me. I had a way with the parents, you know? Bern’s parents fucking love me.

  And in Francesca’s case, I was hoping for parental approval.

  I started to dance myself. Well, kinda. I hadn’t had enough beers yet to really get grooving. But I was feeling good. And when the band came to the end of the first set, and the crowd, though still meager, let out a heartfelt roar, I was feeling pretty fucking awesome.

  Especially when a flush-faced Francesca rushed up to me just as soon as the last song ended, looking very much like she might want to take me into the restroom and get it on right now. And why shouldn’t she? I showed her a good time tonight.

  She stopped before me, barely catching her breath before she blurted out, “I want to meet the band. Well, not all of them. Just the singer. He’s like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen!”

  Uh, right.

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Zoe

  It’s a dog-eat-dog world. So don’t forget your poop bag.

  I was starting to understand why they said dogs were a man’s best friend. Well, in this case, a woman’s. It seemed like Janis was going to be my only ally in this investigation I was conducting. She was at least the only one who seemed to be showing the effects of grief. I could swear she looked downright depressed sometimes, but maybe she had always looked that way. Still, when she looked at me with those big brown eyes, I imagined that she was silently imploring me to carry on with this whole trail I’d started following since the night she and I found Maggie on the beach. Which was why I had leashed her up and taken her for a walk along the beach this fine Saturday morning.

  No, I wasn’t looking for Myles. I already knew he was going to be no help and I was still a bit bewildered by his attitude. I didn’t even know him anymore. Or he didn’t know me. He certainly didn’t believe in me. Or my instincts. Which left my ego a little bruised, to say the least.

  Now my little murder trail was starting to feel more like a trail of bread crumbs. But still I persevered—I had to. I couldn’t ignore my gut, even though everyone else told me I should. So last week I had contacted the S.C.P.D. myself to order the police report on Maggie’s death, only to learn it was going to take two weeks to receive it. And even then the police report wouldn’t show all the avenues the cops had discarded before the death had been ruled accidental.

  Which was why I had resorted to Operation Janis Joplin. But this time out, I was hoping to run into a certain square-jawed cop on a quad. He was my only resource at the moment. I wasn’t sure what I would do when I found him—let Janis off the leash? That oughta get Jeff’s attention, since he was clearly a strict enforcer of the leash law if nothing else. I was certain it wouldn’t be my getup—long shorts and a long-sleeve cotton shirt. I wasn’t taking any chances in this heat. I did want to make it at least to middle-age with some undamaged skin left on my body.

  I was nearly at the end of Kismet when I spotted him, heading west on his quad, looking pretty cute as he sat high on the motorbike, shoulders straight, jaw firm.

  But just when I was about to give him a sunny little wave, he blew on by, sending Janis into a barking frenzy.

  Damn. “Janis!” I said, feeling the leash slide out of my grip.

  I swear, I didn’t do that on purpose. In fact, I started to even feel a shot of panic as I watched my four-legged friend dart down the beach.

  Janis’s escape did, however, achieve the desired effect. As Janis whizzed past him,Jeff stopped his bike, turned around to find the negligent dog owner and spotted me.

  I raced up to him. “Could you—I’m sorry, Jeff
. She kinda got away from me. Maybe you could, uh, ride after her?” I said, my gaze moving frantically to Janis, who was becoming smaller and smaller on the beach.

  I shivered, remembering the last time she had gotten out of my grip.

  But Jeff didn’t sail off after her on his quad. Instead, he put two fingers in his mouth and let out a whistle that almost shattered my eardrums.

  My jaw dropped as Janis stopped, then turned and loped back over to us.

  “Thanks,” I said, once I had her leash once more and Janis sat looking up at me as if to say, “What’s all the fuss about?”

  “No problem. Anything for a pretty lady.” He smiled.

  I smiled back. Okay, the pretty lady thing was a bit old-fashioned, but somehow, whenever I was with this guy, I did feel like I was in some kind of fifties-style western. Maybe it was the uniform. Gave him that alpha-male edge.

  “So I see you made it back to the beach. Enjoying yourself?” he said.

  “Yeah, got in late last night.”

  “Oh, yeah? Working late on your documentary?”

  I nodded. That was true, but he didn’t need to know it wasn’t on my fictitious water-related accidents documentary. I had met up with Adelaide Gibson at her apartment last night for a new viewing of the re-edited dogsnatchers.com doc, complete with the added footage of the frolicking King Charles spaniels in the park. We even had dinner afterward, because I got the feeling after the viewing that Adelaide realized our time working together had come to an end, and she was a little lonely. “Yeah, things are coming along okay,” I said. “I actually put a request in for the police report on Maggie Landon’s death, but it’s gonna take a while to get it. It’s too bad, because I was hoping to use it for my film.”

  I saw Jeff frown, and for a moment, I thought he was considering moving things along in the police department process, until I saw him point at the ground. “I hope you’ve got some bags with you to clean that up.”

  I turned to find Janis hunched over, doing her doggie duty. Ah, crap.

  Literally. I reached into the pocket of my shorts for a bag. “Yeah, I do.” Then, maybe because I didn’t want to start picking up dog turds in his presence, or I was hoping to get the conversation back on track, I said, “So, do you ever get out to the Yaphank office?” Yaphank was the headquarters for the Suffolk County P.D., where the homicide department was located.