“Your lamp?”
“Yes. The lamp I brought to your house this morning when I came to you.” She looked up at him with her big, brown, utterly honest, eyes.
Jerry studied the other pictures. Melody and a man who must be Billy Welsh with Louis Armstrong, Chick Corea, Stewart Copeland, Glenn Miller. Sitting in nightclubs. Posed in front of bandstands. Standing under marquees. Some of the people in the pictures he knew were dead. Billy kept getting older and older. Melody’s clothes changed, but her face didn’t. According to the file, Billy Welsh had been a musician. Apparently, he had been a good one. “That’s impossible.”
“What’s impossible?”
“Melody, there is no way that’s you in all these pictures.”
She shrugged. “It’s me.”
Great. Now, she was still nuts and she was taking him along with her. But her being nuts wouldn’t put her in these pictures. Could she have Photoshopped them? Maybe, but why? So she could snare the great catch that was Detective Jerry Howland? She couldn’t possibly be– “Okay, I have to go.” Jerry started for the door.
“I’ll see you Saturday for coffee though.”
“Uh, yeah. Coffee Saturday.” Jerry wanted to run for the door, but it might give her the wrong impression. Wait, that was the right impression. He did not need to be dealing with women who were at least sixty and looked twenty anymore than he needed to be dealing with crazy women.
Crazy women who looked very Arabic, spoke with a faint accent and owned a huge brass lamp. There were nut jobs and then there were people who had really out-there stories.
But there were out-there stories, and there were flat out fantasies. Genies fell into the same fantasy category as UFOs, Santa Claus and the Loch Ness Monster. Didn’t they?
He needed to take some vacation days so he could lose his goddamn mind in private.
“You’re lying. You’re going to stand me up.”
Jerry turned at the door. “I’m not going to stand you up.”
“Yes, you are. It’s all over your face.” Melody folded her arms. Her lower lip pooched out and her eyes went watery. “I told you what I was right away. I was honest with you and you’re lying to me.”
Oh jeez. Even if he did feel like a jerk, he’d gotten good at handling crying women, but Melody was like kryptonite. Every time he got near her, he lost his head. It was as bad as seeing Amanda cry, but this he could fix. “Melody, I promise, I will meet you Saturday for coffee just like I said.”
“You will? You promise?”
“I got work to do.”
“Can I help you?” She crossed the room. “Let me help you.”
“It’s police business. You can’t just ride along. Not without a good reason and prior approval.” Thank heaven for prior approval. If it weren’t for that he’d have said okay. He cupped her cheek. “I promise you I will see you Saturday at one o’clock at the coffee shop.”
Melody turned her face and kissed his thumb.
Jerry pulled his hand away before she could do any more or he would be in dereliction of his duty shortly thereafter. “But I have to go now.”
“Okay.” Melody stepped back. She pursed her lips. “I’ll see you Saturday at one o’clock.”
“Thanks.” He was in the parking lot before he realized that she hadn’t called him master once, not even on the phone. At least one of them could keep their head when they were together.
Chapter 3
Melody ran her finger around the rim of her coffee cup. She’d spent yesterday morning toting rolled change to the bank. Four trips to take it all, and it totaled over six hundred dollars. She’d spent a little on a cab to the mall and on a sweatshirt to wear for Jerry. Then she’d bought some chicken chow mein in the food court, which she’d hated and thrown it out. The rest of the evening she’d spent in the mall just to be around people. Watching how they acted and wishing she was like them. They all seemed to be able to talk to one another without trouble, but when she bought a cup of coffee at the Starbucks in the middle of the mall and tried to talk to the barista, he’d just stared at her like she was bothering him.
The only person who never looked at her like that was Jerry. His gaze held warmth and patience, and even when he desired her, it wasn’t the same as her other masters. To them, she’d been an object there to fulfill their fantasies. Jerry’s eyes held kindness. Human kindness. The last man to look at her that way had been her husband. She’d been an object even to Billy. In the early years, she had been a treasure. A jewel on his arm. The charming, lovely girl who’d attracted the attention of bandleaders as much as his playing did. A girl he got to take home each night and have sex with. In later years, she had been less of a mistress and more of a maid or nurse. Not so much a person as a means to an end.
“Hello, Melody.” Jerry sat down across the table from her. “I’m here just like I promised.”
“I knew you would come.”
“You wanted to have coffee.”
“You wanted to have coffee. I wanted to have sex.” The memory of meeting him in his house made her smile. He had a very nice house. She looked forward to keeping it for him. “You wanted to have sex too. Did I misunderstand when you said coffee? Is it a code word for sex all day now instead of just after a date?”
“What?”
“On Seinfeld a woman asked George up to her apartment for coffee and he didn’t realize she meant sex. He was very upset the whole rest of the episode.”
Jerry shook his head. “Did you learn everything you know from TV?”
“Billy didn’t like to go out much in the last few years. We watched a lot of television. It really is a wonderful invention.”
“Shh!” Jerry glanced around. “You have to stop saying stuff like that.”
“Like what?”
“Weird stuff like TV is a wonderful invention.”
“Is that why people keep looking at me like I’m loony?”
Jerry tapped his nose. “Bingo.”
“I’m going to learn so much from you.”
“About that.”
Melody knew what that meant. He was going to explain why they were bad for each other or why they couldn’t see each other, but he was wrong. He would never be bad for her and she could learn to be very good for him. “I bet I can teach you a few things too,” she said, her voice lowered to the purr that had always worked before. She picked up his hand and started massaging it. Using her thumbs, she worked across the palm. He had wonderful, capable hands. Long fingers and wide palms. They would feel lovely on her skin. She ached to be touched by these hands. “Jerry, I want to make love to you.”
“I need some coffee.” Jerry pulled his hand away.
As she watched him walk to the counter and place his order, her skin burned for him. Two days she’d waited, planning for this meeting. Sitting alone in that apartment thinking about this, about what would come after. Thinking about the years that would come after. She’d watched so many masters grow old, it hadn’t been difficult to imagine. This time she would be able to grow old with him.
Melody touched her cheek. Her skin would wrinkle and her hair would gray. And Jerry would love her anyway because he was that kind of man.
Jerry returned to the table with his coffee. “Melody–”
“You like me.”
“Yes, I like you.” Jerry took a drink of his coffee. “I like you a lot.”
“That’s all that matters then.” It had to be all that mattered. Like could turn into love given enough time.
“No, it isn’t.”
Melody frowned. “Then what is it?”
“You were the victim of a crime.” Jerry tapped the table with his fingertip.
“No, I wasn’t. Billy died of old age. I was–I explained to you why I was in the apartment. There was no crime.”
“Yes, but you are vulnerable, and if I started seeing you right after I met you while I was investigating your grandfather’s death it’s going to look fishy as hell.”
Me
lody sipped from her coffee. Billy’s diabetes had kept her from trying the modern coffee drinks. It was interesting, but not as good as the spiced hot coffee of her youth. “All right. How long do we have to wait?”
“Wait?”
“Yes. How long would we have to wait before it didn’t look fishy? I’m sure policemen have met mates on calls before. They’re people. People always meet mates in the course of their work.”
Stiff annoyance flickered across his face. “Melody.”
“It’s true.”
“I know. I wish you weren’t so smart.”
“I told you, I can’t grant wishes anymore.” Melody frowned. “You meant that rhetorically, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s one of those things I need to not do because it makes people think I’m loony.”
He smiled. “Yeah.”
Smiling was good. He looked so handsome when he smiled. Warm and gentle, with a sweet humor in his eyes. She slid her chair closer to him and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “So you think I’m smart?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
She slid her hand up his thigh. “You changed it first.”
Jerry caught her hand. “I was explaining why we couldn’t do what you want.”
“Yet.”
He squeezed her fingers. “You’re stubborn too.”
She smiled. He was holding her hand. He didn’t realize it yet, but he was holding her hand. His grip was warm and solid. For the first time in days, she felt anchored.
“Melody, I don’t know where you came from or what happened to you in the past, but things have changed.”
“I know. I’m free now and I’ve picked you.”
Jerry glanced around. “It’s not that easy.”
“I have to be out of Billy’s apartment in ten days. I’m going to come live with you.”
“No, you’re not.”
Melody stared at him. Couldn’t live with him? Why? “But you like me. Why can’t I live with you?”
“Because it wouldn’t be right.”
Her face tensed and her vision got blurry. What would be wrong about it? It was the normal way of things, to go from one master to another. If she didn’t go to him… “Where will I go? I have to be out of Billy’s apartment in ten days. Where will I live?” Her throat closed with her panic.
“I’ll help you with that.”
Melody sucked in a breath. Alone. He was going to help her find a place to live, but she would be in it alone. It was better to be a genie, trapped in a lamp. “What will I do?”
“Melody.” Jerry put his arms around her shoulders. “I know you’re scared, but I’ll help you.”
“I don’t want you help me. I want you to be my master.”
“Shh, calm down.” He stroked her hair.
“Is she okay?” the woman at the next table asked.
“Her grandfather just died. She’s never been on her own before.”
“Poor thing. You know, the coffee shop is looking for help. Maybe she could get a job here,” the woman said.
“Thanks, I’ll look into it.” Jerry kept stroking Melody’s hair and making shushing noises.
Melody shuddered. She didn’t know anyone else and she didn’t know how to make friends. Jerry might be able to find her somewhere to live, but everyone would keep looking at her like she was crazy. He might help her get a job, but no one would talk to her. Empty decades unrolled in front of her. If only she could have died when Billy had. Just like all her masters, she hadn’t asked for the right wish. His last wish shouldn’t have been to set her free, it should have been to let her die.
* * * *
Jerry sat down on the couch in the living room of Billy Welsh’s apartment. He hadn’t expected her to go to pieces like that. Good thing the coffee shop was only three blocks from her apartment building. She’d allowed him to put her to bed without begging him to come with her. That’s how broken up she was. Now he was afraid to leave her alone.
What a fucking awful mess this was turning into. He couldn’t in good conscience just take her in like she wanted him to. Any other guy would have snatched her up in a second. Hot chick with literally millennia of experience who was all for being his personal toy? What wasn’t to love about that? But it was just wrong. What did Stella call him? A statistical anomaly? That shoe fit. Melody didn’t think she was the victim of a crime, but she was. That crime had just taken place a long, long time ago. Some super-powered jerk had stuffed her in a lamp and made her a slave to whoever said the magic words.
He stared at the pictures on the wall. She needed to learn to live her own life again, or maybe for the first time. Some teacher he was going to make on that subject! He hadn’t lived a regular life since Amanda’s first diagnosis. Since that moment in the doctor’s office, he had managed, not lived, taking care of her, their bills and her treatments all the way up to arranging her funeral.
Jeez, did Billy leave a will? He should start figuring out what needed to be taken care of. That was something he knew how to do. Jerry found a pad of paper in the kitchen and started making a list of what Melody needed, starting with an identity so she could get a legal job. She was way beyond illegal immigrant status here.
He’d covered half a page, when he heard footsteps coming down the hall.
Her hair was wild and her face splotchy from crying. “You’re here!” She rushed him, throwing her arms around him.
“Yeah, I’m here.” He patted her back.
“Will you stay?”
“No, Melody. I won’t stay.”
“But I’m so lonely and you must be lonely too since your wife died.”
“How did you know Amanda died?” Jerry tried to lean back so he could see her face.
Melody gripped him tighter. “You have pictures of her, but she isn’t in your house. If you were divorced, you wouldn’t keep her pictures around so she must have died. I can’t take her place, but I can make you happy. Please.”
Jerry groaned. Her body was soft and warm and felt so good. He had to be the biggest moron in the universe to say no to this.
But keeping her like a pet just to satisfy him? That wasn’t what he needed. He needed to move on from Amanda, but he needed to move on with a real woman. “Melody, it’s not good for either of us.”
“But you like me.”
“I like mozzarella sticks and pizza too, but I can’t live on a steady diet of them.”
She frowned and opened her mouth. Either she was going to tell him how she could improve his diet or ask him what pizza was. Whatever she was about to say he didn’t need to hear.
“That’s an awful analogy.” He heaved a sigh. “Melody, I can’t be your master because I can’t be anyone’s master. And you shouldn’t be anyone’s slave. You’re free now.”
“Free to choose my own master.”
“No, free to be your own master.”
Melody looked up at him. He’d seen terror in a lot of faces over the years and this was exactly what it looked like. Her eyes were huge and black and her face pale. Her wet lips were parted and trembling. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. I’ll help you.”
“If I learn to be my own master, then can I be with you?”
Jerry brushed his fingers through her hair. Biggest moron in the world. This woman was so far out of his league, she was a pinprick on the horizon. If he let her go now, he’d never get her back. What was the stupid poem? If you love something, set it free. There hadn’t been time to figure out if he loved her. She needed him too much. She needed to learn not to need anybody. Great. “When you learn to be your own master, you can be with anyone you want to.”
For an instant, her eyes narrowed and her features set in an expression so determined that it probably should have terrified him. Then she smiled and the expression disappeared. “What do I have to do?”
* * * *
Melody stopped in the lobby to pick up the mail on her way home from her job at the c
offee shop. Jerry had arranged the proper papers so she could work. She even had a birthday now. It had only been five days, but the other baristas and the regulars at the coffee shop were nice. They thought her wardrobe was eclectic and the funny things she sometimes said were eccentric. They also liked the fact that she could recite the storyline of every episode of Dragnet. Jerry had stopped for coffee every day on his way home. He always had a reason, but she wasn’t that stupid. He surveyed the other men in the shop as he was talking to her and if he had to wait because she was talking to another man, he would stand perfectly still and stare like he could make the man she was helping go away sooner. Today’s excuse was to remind her that he would be by in the morning to help her move into her new place. It was small, but clean and only a couple blocks away from her job, and it had taken every cent she had plus a loan from Jerry to cover first and last months’ rent and the security deposit. How long would she have to live there before he decided she’d learned to be her own master? It was a one-year lease.
Electric bill. Junk mail. Letter from a record company. She opened that one as she went up the stairs. The larger companies had either paid Billy a flat rate or deposited royalties electronically but some of the smaller ones still sent checks. Inside the nearly empty apartment, she scanned the statement. So many units sold on several recordings over the past year. Billy always used to give her these checks and tell her to go buy herself something pretty.
Now she could use the money to pay back some of the money she’d borrowed from Jerry. Billy would like that and so would Jerry. It meant she was being her own master.
She signed Billy’s name, grabbed her purse and headed back out to the bank.
“Hi, welcome to First Federal. How can I help you?” the teller said when Melody arrived at the counter.
“I just need to cash this check. It’s already signed.” Melody set the check and Billy’s bankcard on the counter. Jerry would like this. Then maybe he’d decide she didn’t have to live alone for the whole year of the lease. The people at the coffee shop were nice, but she wanted to be with him.
Melody Unchained Page 4