by Robyn Carr
“I’ll explain later, Buzz. Please?” She pulled her house key from her pocket. “Rose has a key, but if she’s not around today and you have to see about Alice...”
“You want me to get you a lawyer or anything?”
“No,” she said. “I haven’t done anything wrong. Apparently I know some people who have.”
Then she went with the men to their office in Las Vegas, where she sat for seven long hours. Some big bulldog named Dobbs yelled and hollered and threatened, but he was quickly replaced by a civil young man named Jeff, to whom she bared her soul. She told him everything he wanted to know, but she didn’t see how any of her information would in any way incriminate Nick.
“Is Barbara really alive?”
“Oh, yes. Very much. Spending his money like mad.”
“Well, good. I guess. Listen, I’m very tired,” she finally said. “I have a sick old dog at home.”
“That would be Alice?”
She looked surprised. “You don’t have the place bugged, do you?”
“No. We would have to think you guilty of some crime, get a judge to sign a warrant, et cetera. And frankly, we don’t know what it would get us.”
“It won’t get you Nick Noble. I hope never to see him again.” She sighed. “Really, are you just about done?”
“Sure,” he said, turning off his tape recorder and folding his notebook closed. “If we think of anything else, can we give you a call?”
“Why not? I don’t seem to have any secrets anymore. Oh, by the way—you wouldn’t happen to know anything about my condo? My car? My belongings?”
“We haven’t seen any moving take place over there, but if it’s in his name, he could have sold it all by now.”
“And my things?”
“That’s something you’ll have to check out for yourself.”
“By now I bet he’s pretty pissed off.”
The man shrugged. “He seems to be a man with a temper.”
“At least he didn’t kill his wife,” she said. “At least he’s not a murderer.”
“We’re not looking at him for that, no.”
It was nine o’clock before she got home, and she was exhausted to the bone. The famous Las Vegas wind was whipping through the trees ferociously, bending them over. As the car pulled up to the front of her house, she saw Alex sitting on the front step. The agent who drove the car asked, “Would you like me to see you in?”
“No, thanks. That’s my next-door neighbor, waiting up for me.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
* * *
It had been a long afternoon for Alex. Jennifer had never called him to tell him about the FBI, though she could have. She wasn’t a suspect, there would have been no reason to deny her the use of a phone.
Maybe it was the tension of waiting that had worked on Alex. He was exhausted and feeling angry, but he hadn’t thought he was angry with her. Yet the moment she came into view, something rose up in him. Something he hadn’t felt in years. It might have been fierce jealousy, it might’ve been that he felt stupid for trusting her so much. Or it might have just been that even though he thought what Dobbs said about her was probably bullshit, it still ate at him.
She came toward him with her arms out. “Oh, Alex,” she said, leaning into him. “What a day!”
“Come on,” he said, pulling her toward the house. He opened her door and let her precede him inside. The sound of the wind whistling through the eaves and rattling the windows reminded him how old their houses were. It brought to mind a condo on the beach. A Jag.
She went first to Alice, as she always did, stooping and kissing the top of her head. “Hey, girlfriend,” she said. But she was so kind, he found himself thinking. She had such a sweet and sensitive nature. These things didn’t add up.
He stood just inside the closed door. “How was it?” he asked.
She whirled around and flopped on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table. “It was very long. For the most part it was just tedious, but there was this one big guy who was horrible. Rude, insulting, horrific. They must have been watching through that mirror thing because all I had to do was say I wouldn’t talk to them if he was going to treat me so badly and he was taken out and a very nice gentleman replaced him. Someone named Jeff.”
“You answered all their questions?”
“Every last one. I’m not sure what it is they think Nick has done, but I don’t think I was of any use at all. Did you tell them where to find me?”
“No,” he said. “In fact, I got my ass chewed for not giving you up.”
“Oh, God, I was afraid of that. Was it just an ass-chewing? It wasn’t worse than that, was it?”
“It was just a slap on the wrist.” He took a breath. “You didn’t tell me what you did for a living. Dated rich old dudes.”
She stiffened. “I might’ve described it differently, but I guess that’s not incorrect.”
“Why don’t you describe it for me,” he said. He heard the sarcasm in his voice and wanted to pull his words back in, soften them, scrub them up a little, but it was too late. He was pissed. He didn’t know at who or really why. Maybe because Dobbs knew something about her that he didn’t know—and he had held her and kissed her and begged to make love to her. Dobbs hadn’t.
She sat forward on the sofa, putting her feet on the ground. “Okay, here’s how it was. When I was just a kid and my mom and grandparents had recently died, a very kind gentleman named Robert, who was as old as my grandfather, dated me. I had nothing. I had less than nothing. I had a job as a hostess in a restaurant, rented one room, had a mouth full of bad teeth, and if I was slender it was probably because most of the time I didn’t get enough to eat. I quit high school, couldn’t get a good job, and this nice, generous man wanted to help me out. I guess you could call him my sugar daddy.”
“The first of many.” He couldn’t believe how little control he had over his tone, his choice of words. It humiliated him to be so mean, yet it seemed beyond his control. “Were you going to tell me?”
“Absolutely,” she said, straightening her spine. “Look, I can understand you being a little put out, but I didn’t do anything wrong. After Robert moved on in a very mutual and cordial parting of the ways, the next man I dated was very much like him—he was in his sixties, very wealthy, and though married, his wife lived in France and they hadn’t seen each other in years. He was also very generous. But I want to make it clear, I never asked for anything. I always worked. Kept a full-time job. I got my GED and even took a couple of classes at the community college.”
“How many, altogether?”
She stood up. “Alex, what is this? I had four relationships that were sort of long term—two or three years. In between I dated quite a few men—they did not become serious. Have you seen any women in those years since your divorce?”
“Yes,” he said resolutely. “I have even given them a trinket or two. Not, however, a Jag.”
“Well, I admit, I was very fortunate.”
“Fortunate? Shit! Yachts, private jets, limos?”
She was aghast at his anger, but thought—good. Let’s get it out. Let’s put this behind us once and for all. This is the moment of truth. “Yes. All that. And diamond rings, trips all over the world, plastic surgery. One man even gave me a racehorse.”
He nodded at her chest. “Which one gave you the tits?”
She lifted her chin proudly. It’s not as though she’d had to be talked into them. She’d been as flat as an ironing board, and loved the idea of finally having breasts. She appreciated it as much as her new smile. “That would have been Martin.”
The wind seemed to escalate outside and there was a clap of thunder. A summer storm was approaching.
“Did they
love being played by you?”
“I don’t think you get it, Alex,” she said, stepping toward him. “I wasn’t playing. I was absolutely sincere. Although I was never in love with any of them, I was as devoted as I could be. I never cheated, I never threw over one man for another, I never lied.”
“But you told them you loved them,” he accused.
“No. That was completely unnecessary,” she scoffed. “Why are you so angry with me? Were you under the impression I was a virgin? I told you about the arrangement I had with Nick and you weren’t nearly this judgmental.”
“I thought he was the only one.”
“There haven’t been dozens, for God’s sake.”
“Did it ever occur to you that there wasn’t much difference between what you did and what a high-priced whore does?”
She took another step toward him. She wanted to scream and slap his face, but she kept control. “There is no comparison. There is, however, a very close comparison to what happens in an arranged marriage.”
“You slept with rich old men for gifts! Big gifts, like trips to Europe and diamonds and furs.”
“I slept with them far less often than you might think. Mostly I accompanied them. You would be amazed at how important that is to some men.”
“Then why the hell are you flirting with me? I don’t measure up to this standard! I will probably never do better than a secondhand bike!”
She tried being gentle and cajoling, sensing there was some jealous pain associated with this. Outside, the lightning flashes came more often, as did the loud rumble of thunder. If she hadn’t been in the grip of a good fight, she might’ve run to the window to watch the rain come.
“Look, coming out of the kind of childhood I had, it was easy for me to be seduced by these material things. And I had no complaints about my life—it’s not hard to get used to luxury. I didn’t realize until this event with Nick sent me fleeing into Boulder City how friendless I was. It’s really caused me to rethink my priorities. I wish you could know how much that bike meant. That bike meant more than a diamond ring. I had been with men who wouldn’t break a sweat buying a plane—yet not one of them ever made a sacrifice for me.”
“They just made you rich.”
“I’ve saved a couple of bucks. But Alex...”
“Are you saying you’re going to reform? Play it straight now?”
“Play it straight? Alex, I didn’t do anything wrong. I never lied to anyone, I never took anything that wasn’t freely given. I never cheated on anyone. I have nothing to reform. All I have to do is live my life true to myself. I like this life—this real life. I’m much happier here, living like this, than I was before.”
“That’s what you say now. A year from now, when you’re tired of clipping coupons or pinching pennies, when it gets tough making the car payment or whatever, you know what to do, don’t you? You just find yourself a rich old guy with bulging pockets and—”
“All right! That’s it!” she yelled. “This conversation is over!”
“I think we’re just beginning!”
“No! You’re leaving. I could call the cops! And now that my cover is blown, believe me, I won’t hesitate!”
“You could call the who?” he asked, bending at the waist and pushing his face in hers.
She stared at him for a moment, then turned to the phone on the kitchen counter. “Don’t bother!” he said. “I’m outta here.”
* * *
The moment he left, Jennifer felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She looked askance at Alice, who was lying flat on her belly, snout on the floor, and she almost appeared to be covering her ears with her paws. “Whoa,” she said to the dog.
It had been a long day and she was overwrought herself. But she had this insane idea she would come home to Alex, fall into his arms and be comforted by him. What had happened instead was too crazy for words. But the bottom line seemed to be that he couldn’t cope with the kind of life she’d lived before. This was something she thought she had prepared herself for—but apparently she’d been in denial, because his anger hit her like a brick in the gut.
Perhaps there was something indecent about it, because she hadn’t loved those men. They hadn’t loved her, either, but that wasn’t the point. She wasn’t pure because she hadn’t been driven by pure intentions. She had been looking for a way to keep from getting hurt and to keep her head above water.
However, her intentions were pure now. She wanted to help Hedda if she could, she wanted to work with Buzz on feeding some of the town, she wanted to be best friends with Louise and Rose, and she wanted to love Alex.
She had wanted to. Maybe not anymore.
She began to cry. It was amazing how she had held tears at bay for so many years and now it seemed every time she turned around, she was whimpering.
This was considerably more than a whimper. She was gasping. “God, Alice,” she wailed. “I thought if I could just tell the truth... I pretty much fell for him even though he’s the biggest pain in the ass.... I wouldn’t have told him that way, but... And I don’t know if it matters that I only told him all that because I wanted to.... When you love someone you have to...”
She heard the rain begin to pelt the windows even as the wind howled. She got up, blew her nose on a tissue and looked out the front window. There, pacing back and forth like a lunatic in the pouring rain, his head down, his strides long and angry, was Alex.
* * *
He had absolutely no idea why he’d said those horrible things. He didn’t know if Dobbs had goaded him into it or if somewhere, deep down, he didn’t want to get involved with a woman who could do that—be with someone she didn’t love just because she’d get nice things.
Oh, hell—women fall for men in uniform all the time. Cops and firefighters walk into bars and can just about have their pick. Shamefully, Alex admitted to himself that he’d taken advantage of that a time or two. Where was the difference?
The rain came, and he thought, figures. Now that you’ve said all the things that cannot be unsaid, you have completely ruined any chance of ever going forward with her. Now it’s raining on your stupid head. Lightning should strike you and put you out of your misery.
Oh, said his alter ego, Now you want to go forward. Nice going, dumb ass.
I always wanted to go forward, it just set me back on my heels to hear that she’d been a—I knew she’d had another life—but I didn’t know it was that kind of life.
She hadn’t been a whore. Those were Dobbs’s words. You heard her—she’d had relationships with these guys, and it made sense to her at the time. She must have been scared and desperate at first. What else did she have going for her?
Well, you’re too stupid to live. Now, just when you could have had her, you’ve lost her forever. No way she can forgive the way you talked to her.
As if to prove himself wrong, he ran up the two steps to the door. He banged on the door just as thunder roared. She opened the door, tissue to her nose, eyes moist with the tears that he had caused. He had to yell to be heard above the wind and flapping of tree branches.
“I’m an idiot! I love you!”
She stared at him for a moment. He felt the rain drip off his thatch of thick brown hair. She pushed open the screen and said, “Okay, then. Come to me.”
thirteen
She pulled him inside and put her arms around him, pulled him soaking wet against her. She lay her cheek against his shoulder and let herself cry. His arms went around her. “I have no idea what happened to me,” he said. “Multiple-personality disorder, probably.”
She looked up at him. “Did you get everything off your chest?”
“Jennifer, I said things I didn’t even know were in me. Honest to God, I don’t know what made me so mean. I’m so sorry. I don’t think I even meant some of tho
se things.”
“You were pretty convincing. Pretty angry.”
“Yes. But at what, I’m not sure. So stupid. Besides being an idiot, I must have been scared.”
“Of?”
He wiped a tear off her cheek with a knuckle. “Of losing you. I know your life isn’t here. Whether it involves men or not, I know your life is somewhere else. Where you have a home, a job, roots.”
She shook her head. “In three months I’ve had more here than I had in Florida in eleven years. Without even meaning to I put down some serious roots.” She laughed through her tears. “For someone who was trying to be invisible...”
“I should have waited for you to tell me,” he said.
She began unbuttoning his wet shirt. Between kisses she said, “When things started to get heavy the other night, I couldn’t let you go any further until you knew everything about me. I was going to tell you right away—but so many things happened in the meantime. Hedda, Alice...”
She slipped her hands inside his shirt and spread them across his chest. The shirt fell from his shoulders and he pulled her against him, kissing her deeply.
“You should have no regrets,” she said.
“Neither should you.” He slipped a hand under her shirt and found a breast, then undid her bra and found it better. Her breath caught. “I can’t give you all those things,” he reminded her.
“I want you for yourself,” she said, raising her arms so that he might pull off her shirt and bra. She pressed herself against him. “Things don’t mean as much as you think.”
“If we ever go anywhere, we’ll be flying coach.” He bent to kiss a shoulder and worked his way back up her neck to her lips.
“The only place I want to go now is to bed,” she whispered against his mouth. “And the sooner the better.”
He lifted her in his arms and carried her the very short distance to the bedroom, blessing the smallness of these houses as he did. He fell with her onto the bed. They kicked off their shoes without breaking their embrace. Tongues played and probed, hands went to belts and waistbands, lightning lit the room in brief flashes, illuminating them as they shed their clothes.