“I like having you in my bed.” She kissed him tenderly and squeezed him tight. “You want to shower first? Or shall I?”
“You go ahead. I’m in no hurry. Besides, I haven’t checked out the damage in front of the house yet.”
“Can it wait?”
“Do you have something more pressing for me to do?”
“As a matter of fact—” She snaked her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his.
“Oh my, chér. Will you always be this amorous in the morning?”
“I could be—time will tell.”
“By all means, let me know if I can assist you in making that happen. I am a morning person, you know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, guiding his hands inside her robe. “I’m on a tight schedule, but I think if we shower together, we may be able to multi-task. N’cest pas?”
“I love the way you think.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her upstairs to the bath.
* * *
Jess screwed the cap off a bottle of Gentleman Jack and poured a generous amount into his coffee. Simone sat across the table with her feet propped on the chair. If he bent a little to the left, he’d have a clear view of bare, silky thighs and her danger zone. Her teasing was getting on his nerves.
“For chrissakes, Simone, if you don’t want me to fuck you, at least have the decency to wear panties. I like women too, remember?”
“It wasn’t my intent to get you, as you American’s say, hot and bothered.”
“Really? Fooled me.” He took a gulp and slammed the cup on the table, cracking the porcelain. “See what you made me do?”
“Sheppard, so manly, taking your sexual frustrations out on a little cup.” Her face twisted into a satisfied grin. “What’s your problem?”
“You prance around here half-naked acting as if I’m immune because you’re a dyke.”
“Dyke is an ugly word.” She pulled the sash on her robe and stood up. The flimsy fabric clung to her curves. Like a cat in heat, she stalked toward him and straddled his lap. Grabbing fistfuls of his hair, she pulled, tilting his face toward hers. “Be careful, Sheppard. I’m a very patient woman until you piss me off. And then? And then I become very nasty.” She brought her mouth to his and bit his lip.
“You’re a bitch, Simone.” He held her legs secure around his waist and wrestled her to the floor, pinning her beneath his weight. Her eyes grew large when he unleashed his demon and parted her legs. She winced in pain.
She fought like a hellcat, tugging his hair and slapping his face, but once he was inside, her hips met his, thrust for thrust. She bit and tore at his flesh, moaning and thrashing until he hit her G-spot, and she cried out.
“Jesus!” Jess collapsed on the floor, his pants tangled around his ankles. Simone lay still beside him. “See what you were missing?”
“Nothing, Sheppard. Nothing.” She rose and headed for the shower, dragging her robe behind her.
Jess was tempted to scramble to his feet, throw her on the bed face down, sodomize her, and violate her in the worst way possible. Visions of his mother trampled his brain. Whore.
* * *
“Spider, it’s Paul Fortier. Can you meet me at Grace’s in an hour?”
“What’s up?”
“Bring a tracking team with you. Our boy is back.”
Paul hung up the phone and went upstairs. “Honey, can I make you a piece of toast?”
Grace shrugged into a teal-colored blouse and beige sweater.
Paul leaned in the doorway, admiring the view.
“No, thanks. I’m late as it is. I have a client coming in an hour.”
“Okay, I’m going to get some of the brush picked up and check the roof.”
“What would I do without you?” she said, kissing him tenderly.
“I’m the lucky one. See you downstairs.”
Sneaky sat by the backdoor. “Let’s take a look out front.” Paul grabbed her leash and clipped it to her collar. He didn’t want the dog trampling any evidence in the backyard. Just then, Grace came into the kitchen.
“A leash?” She patted Sneaky on the head. “Since when?”
“We’re going out front. I may even take her for a stroll.”
“You’re spoiling us both. But you know that, don’t you?”
“I guess that makes me a very smart man.” He nuzzled her neck. “And you smell delicious. If you don’t get out of here in the next few seconds, I may be tempted to ravish you right here in the kitchen.”
“You wouldn’t,” she purred.
Paul drew Grace into his arms and bent her backwards. She giggled as he planted kisses down her throat. “Stop! I’m going to be la—” she cried. He pulled her up and let her go. Her cheeks were rosy. Her eyes glistened from laughing so hard.
“You’re beautiful, chér’”. He kissed her again, this time savoring her lips. “I think you’d better leave.”
“I think you’re right. Au revoir!”
* * *
“Did you see anything?” Spider stood akimbo, hands on his hips. Paul’s hands were stuffed in his pockets.
“I thought I saw something run along the fence. Seeing the tracks, it must’ve been him.”
“What time?”
“After midnight.”
“Does Grace know?”
“Nuh, uh. She’s stressed enough. She told you about the calls?”
“When’s the last time he called?”
“Christmas Eve. We were at the Orpheum Theater in the Bay.”
“I’m going to do everything in my power to catch this guy. I don’t want any heroics on your part, understand?” Spider placed his hand on Paul’s shoulder. “Keep her safe. That’s your job.”
“Do you know who you’re dealing with? This isn’t some voyeur, Spider. He’s a master of disguise. He has identities and passports up the wazoo, not to mention money. He a shape-shifter for chrissakes. Don’t expect me to stand down on this one. If I find him before you do, he’s mine.”
Spider studied Paul’s face. “You’re a smart guy. I know that because Grace wouldn’t marry any other kind, but let me say this: Jess has an Achilles heel, and that’s Grace. I’m going to be watching like a hawk, but I need to know she’s going to be safe with you. Can you do that for me? Be my inside guy?”
“Of course.”
“Good. We understand each other. Do you have a registered weapon?”
“Yep.”
“Good, we understand each other.”
* * *
Simone delivered as promised. Six days after announcing their move, she rolled her suitcase to the hotel hallway. “Last one.” She turned to Jess, “You ready, Sheppard?”
“I need to know where we’re going.”
“Not far. I got us a rental. It has a great view.”
“Where at?”
“H Street.”
Jess’s blood ran cold. “Where on H Street?”
“H and Nineteenth.”
The sparkle in Simone’s eyes confirmed she was scheming. Jess turned his back to hide the red rage staining his cheeks. While he imagined snapping her neck, he pressed the lock on his suitcase.
“How did you find the place?”
“Called a Realtor, silly. Are you coming?”
“Go ahead, I’ll be right down.” H and 19th. “Maybe there is a God.”
CHAPTER 17
HOME SWEET HOME
W hen Grace arrived at her office, she smelled coffee. Sal?
She unlocked the door. “What are you doing here?”
“Happy to see you, too.”
Grace rushed to her friend and hugged her tight. “Happy? I’m overjoyed? How are you feeling?” She held her at arm’s length. “Let me take a look at you?”
“Don’t start fussing. I get enough of that at home. It’s driving me nuts!”
“Your family loves you.”
“I know. They need a break. I need a break. Soon, you’ll need a break. Being around a person w
ith cancer wears on everyone.”
“Fine. When I get tired of your sorry ass, I’ll let you know. Until then, coffeeee.”
“Uh-huh.” She slapped Grace’s hand away from the steaming mug. “Comes with a price. I want to hear what’s been going on with you.”
“I’m deliriously happy.”
“What else?”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“Don’t BS me. What’s going on with Jess?”
“Wow. You don’t miss a beat.”
“No, that and your client Misha called. The message she left is a doozy, and I’m sure she didn’t leave the message on your private line because she knows I’m a pit bull. So fess up! What’s going on?”
“I don’t know…the dog’s been barking a lot lately. It gives me the creeps, so I’m moving in with Paul.”
“Good. It’s about time you came to your senses.”
“Do I deserve that?”
“He’s not your college crush anymore, Grace. He’s a serial killer.”
A chill crept up Grace’s spine, and she shivered. “I know.”
“Oh, here, this came this morning.” Sal handed Grace a piece of paper. “I didn’t know you were renting your place out.”
“I’m leaving that to the Realtor. I think it’s a good idea to have someone living in the house until we sell. The market is so low now—a renter will buy us time. Besides, I’m in no hurry. I just want out. Moving in with Paul makes for an easier transition later, after we’re—”
Sal grabbed Grace’s hand. It was shaking. “Married?”
Grace nodded her head.
“Say it, Grace: married.”
“I don’t want to rush into anything because I’m scared. I want our wedding to be perfect. Small and intimate. There’s no room in new beginnings for fear.”
“When do you want to go dress shopping?” Sal lifted Grace’s hand, admiring her ring. Grace shrugged her shoulders.
“I’ve got work to do. I want to leave early so I can get some things packed before the renters get there.”
“What do I tell Misha?”
“I’ll call her back. Don’t book any more appointments today.” Sal clicked her mouse to bring up the screen on her computer. “You’ve got a ten and an eleven, that’s it.”
“Super. We’re good then. Maybe after I get settled at Paul’s, we can talk about dress shopping. Until then, welcome back. I missed you. I’m elated that you’re here, and everything is going to be fine. Just fine.” Grace patted Sal’s shoulder and headed for her office.
Sal picked up the phone and dialed John.
“Hi, honey. Miss me?”
John grunted on the other end of the line, “Pope Catholic?”
“C’mon, I hear that noise in the background; you’re romancing the NFL.”
“Busted. Bears won. Crap! Now I owe Davis twenty bucks.”
“Great, I married a gambling man.”
“Office pool don’t count. Hey, did you want me to thaw something for dinner?”
“I took out chicken breasts, they’re in the bottom drawer of the fridge. Throw ’em in some marinade, will ya? Grace is leaving early. I don’t plan to hang out any longer than I have to. How about a movie when I get home.”
“I vote for a movie and your breasts a la carte.”
“Funny. I married a comedian.” She cupped her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, “Think you can handle this Italian pastry?”
“O baby. Say the word. I am a starving man.”
“Really? You feel neglected?”
“No, hon. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Okay. Fine. Lime Chipotle on the chicken. See you later. Don’t bet us into the poor house, okay?”
“Sal, you know I didn’t mean anything by what I said.”
“I know. You’ve been a prince through this whole ordeal. I miss having sex, too. We can talk about it when I get home, okay?”
“All right. Love you babe.”
“Yeah, me too, big guy.”
“Say it.”
“I love you, John.”
“That’s better. See you soon.”
Sal held the receiver to her chest. The old Sal wouldn’t have taken John’s comment to heart. But as much as she wanted his touch, she felt raw inside. It felt as though, when he touched her, he touched her cancer. She didn’t want him to experience any more of her pain. The chunk that was missing from her left breast now matched the right. The areas where they removed lymph nodes felt numb, but also oversensitive from the nerve damage. Her once beautiful chest puppies, John’s pet name for them, looked like two over-ripe grapefruits, indented on one side, round on the other. Could be worse; you could be dead. She clicked her mouse and brought up payables. Be grateful for the little things. Like having all the accounts paid up to date, having a friend who’s getting married. Gloom hung in the air, suffocating the joy.
* * *
Simone slammed her hand on the Realtor’s desk. “You said we could have the keys today.”
“I apologize, Mrs. Ortiz. The owner needs more time to remove her things. She assured me she’ll be out by 6 p.m.
“Hey, babe,” Jess grabbed Simone’s hand, “no worries. We can grab lunch and maybe see a movie. You haven’t been to the IMAX. Our time is our own. What’s the hurry?”
“It’s pouring outside. I’m not interested in the IMAX. I get vertigo easily, and I don’t want to squander my day sightseeing when I could be snuggled up with a good book.”
Jess caught her cool blast. Ever since he fucked her six ways to Sunday, she’d been acting weird. Passive-aggressive is what his therapist would say. He smiled at the thought. Oh Grace, wait ’til you see what I have planned for you.
The Realtor pushed a stack of papers across the desk and handed both Jess and Simone a pen. “Print your names and sign on the highlighted line. Enter the date in the space beside your name. Essentially what you’re signing is a rental agreement. You’re agreeing to adhere to the following,” she pointed to the section about the legalities, holding them responsible for any damage, theft, or defacement of property. “Do you have a cashier’s check for your deposit?”
Jess turned to Simone. “Did you take care of the check, babe?” Simone reached in her purse and pulled out an envelope. She handed the envelope to the Realtor. “I hope cash will suffice. Where we come from cash is—” Jess kicked her under the table. She bristled. “You do take cash, don’t you?
“Of course, it’s just that— Let me check with my manager.” The woman rose and left the room.
“What’s wrong with you? You bring cash to a casino, not a real estate office.”
“Fuck you, Sheppard. I didn’t see you rising early to run to the bank.”
“Choose your words carefully, dear. I’d be glad to go another round.”
Simone picked up the stapler from the desk and dropped it in Jess’s lap.
“Ow, bitch! What is wrong with you?”
“Lower your voice. You’re going to get us evicted before the ink dries.” Just then the Realtor returned with a man dressed in a three-piece suit. His name tag read Oswald Grit, manager. He towered over Jess and Simone. All that was missing from the scene was a German salute. The Realtor smiled weakly and made the introductions.
Oswald nodded toward Jess, who was holding his crotch. “Everything okay? We heard shouting.”
“Stapler slipped out of my hand, I’m afraid.” Simone picked up the offending object. “Heavy.”
The Realtor took the stapler from Simone and replaced it on her desk. “Yes, so many documents to bundle. Are you all right, Mr. Ortiz?”
“I’ll be fine. Can we finish up here?”
“Certainly.” The Realtor reached in her drawer and produced a marking pen. “We will have to check the cash you give us. It’s procedure. We mean no offense.”
Mr. Grit piped in, “You’d be surprised how many counterfeit bills get passed around. Due to the large amount of cash you are enlisting here, it behooves us
to check. Ready when you are.”
Simone pulled the hundred-dollar bills from the envelope and counted them into six, neat piles of ten each. “Six thousand, correct?”
“Yes,” the Realtor said, swiping the pen across each bill. If the ink turned orange, the bill was legit. After the money was recounted and banded, Oswald gathered the stacks and returned them to the envelope.
“I’ll see to it this money gets into the safe. It was a pleasure meeting you both.” He paused. “Ortiz? Spanish, right? Any relation to the Ortiz family from Cameron Park?” The Realtor looked from Jess to Simone, waiting for one of them to answer.
“My husband’s family is from Ecuador. His late father was a novelist.”
“Aw, babe, don’t bore these folks with family talk.”
Mr. Grit perched on the edge of the Realtor’s desk. “I’d love to hear more.”
“His father wrote Juyungo. Are you familiar with his work? “He also wrote poetry, isn’t that right?”
“Why yes, Mr....eh...Oswald. See my darling?” Simone gave Jess a nudge. “Daddy is read all over the world.”
“Small world. My cousin’s wife Alva is related to him as well. Perhaps you should meet.”
“Love to.” Simone’s face drained of color. “Perhaps when we get situated.”
“Yes, of course. Barb,” he said to the Realtor. “Make sure these people are well taken care of,” he demanded, eyeing the couple suspiciously. “After all, they may be family.” Oswald smacked his palm on the desk and took his leave.
Simone looked shell-shocked. Jess clutched his groin, his expression sour. He wanted to punch her face until it collapsed into her brain. What the hell was she thinking, spinning a tale that didn’t hold water? We’re fucked. All Grit had to do was make a phone call, and it was all over.
When Jess and Simone departed the real estate office, Jess let loose. “What’s wrong with you? I thought you were smart! What was that in there...besides suicide?”
The Black Dress Page 20