Fly With Fire

by Frances Randon

  He sensed the tension and knew he’d made a mistake in lecturing her. He watched her fidget with her coffee cup and sensed her anxiety. Was she nervous about the statement? Uncomfortable with him after last night? Was she looking for an out? Zack thought of what she’d been through. He took a chance, expressing what had been on his mind since awakening. “I’m sorry, it’s done now. Everything’s okay. Know what I think, if you’re still willing to listen to me?” His heart speeded up a bit as she eyed him warily. “Mo, you deserve a break. I’m still on leave and you don’t have to be at work until Friday. I know it’s not the Paris of North America, but we could have a lot of fun. Why don’t we both take a break? Stay here. With me. I’ll show you more of the city. I’ll see if I can get tickets to the Tutankhamen but I can’t guarantee it. I’ll have you back on Friday. We can knock around the city or we can just relax on the beach. What do you say?”

  “I’d say you Chicagoans know how to make a girl an offer she can’t refuse.” Mo smiled brightly and held out her cup.

  “The guys not talking, tight as a fucking clam but we’re running his prints. Labs backed up but hopefully we’ll have him ID’ed by this afternoon.

  “Skank’s lucky to be behind bars. Merle just let me know the essentials. I’m going to be busy all week, but I’ll be around.” Zack eyed Mo who waited across the room.

  “She did real well. Something to look at. How’d you come to be at the gas station? You told the uniforms you were waiting for her outside. She told them she was in a cab.” Merle Gleason raised a brow and glanced over to Mo who waited patiently looking at wanted posters.

  “Keep your eyes off.”

  “Better eyes than hands.”

  “Those too.” Zack chuckled. “Uh, we had a little misunderstanding. She left in a cab. I followed; saw the cab at the gas station. Balls knocking that off. Mayor’s house right down the street. Crowded area. Maybe a hard luck night with the pockets and got desperate.” Zack steeled himself against the recollection.

  “She’s lucky. Lucky you followed. So what’s the deal? You and her? She was at your condo? ” Merle avoided the glance at her. His urge to really check her out suppressed by Zack’s warning look.

  “I don’t know, Merle, and I’m not asking questions.” Zack reached out to shake Merle’s hand. “Let me know anything I or she needs to know but other than that…”

  “Buddy, I’m not bothering you even if Larson himself orders it. Seen the paper?” Merle held up the Sun Times.

  “Shit.” Zack saw the picture of Mo and himself getting into his car at the gas station. It was front page news. “Thought we got away in time.”

  “More publicity for the show. With her around who needs a publicist?” Merle held out the paper.

  Zack pushed it back with a furtive glance at Mo. “I think we’ll try to avoid the newsstands today. Later.”

  “I told you to keep an eye on that girl! What the hell was she doing at that gas station? You trying to make a name for yourself, Burnham? You know how many calls we’ve gotten on this?” The mayor’s voice was so loud in the phone Zack had to hold it away from his ear.

  “Sir, I’m on the job. She’s safe. No I’m not trying to make a name for myself. I don’t want a desk job, I’m on leave. She’s right here. In my car. She just gave her statement. No, she doesn’t want to go back to Greendale. She wants to see the Tutankhamen but it’s sold out… Today, tomorrow… How? Okay. I’ll check the ticket office in an hour.”

  “Since you’ve got fans in high places, we’re getting in.” Zack smiled as he clamped his phone onto its charger.

  “Must be because he knows you.” Mo looked at Zack with a sidelong glance. She seemed more at ease now that the statement was over.

  “If it was up to Tyler I’d wind up in the tomb.” Zack decided to park at his condo. It was a short walk to the museum and they could always catch a cab.

  “I get the feeling there’s more than meets the eye with you and Tyler.” She didn’t push it, just gazed at him with a questioning look. “Sorry, maybe it’s about Ray…I didn’t mean to…”

  “I was engaged to his daughter. He didn’t approve. We broke up and we’ve, Tyler and me, have had a contentious relationship since. I didn’t really have to see him much until the investigation. Chicago’s like a small town in a lot of ways. We’re from the same neighborhood and each neighborhood is like a small town. I don’t know why he pulled me in to the head office but there I was. I don’t know why he was mad when I broke up with Patricia when I knew he was against it from the start. He didn’t want his daughter to marry a cop. Sometimes people’s motives don’t make sense to anyone but them. You learn that being a cop, along with a lot of other things. You need to stop in the apartment?”

  Mo shook her head and they started headed toward the street. She was silently amazed that he had revealed so much considering his usual reticence. She decided not to push it. Maybe he gave more information about himself spontaneously if he wasn’t questioned.

  George Travers stood in the doorway of the Veteran’s Museum holding up the Sun Times. He peeked over the edge and did a double take. He lowered the paper and opened his mouth to say something. Zack stopped him with a shake of his head. George nodded assent with a wink. He went back to his paper but lowered it to watch the couple as they turned the corner.

  The cool breeze mitigated what would have been a hot early September day. It wouldn’t be long before the days got a cooler, Zack thought. “You comfortable?”

  Mo nodded. She wore the Sox cap and sunglasses. He walked them a block south of Roosevelt so they wouldn’t directly pass the gas station. The line at the Field Museum of Natural History flowed down the stairs and down its wide sidewalks. Mo looked around and enjoyed the view of the lake and what must have been Adler Planetarium. “Can we go there?”

  “Sure. Another day. This’ll take all afternoon.” Some people gave them resentful looks as they moved up the stairs to the front of the line. Mo felt guilty and hesitated. Zack grabbed her hand and pulled her along. “We have tickets waiting. Guest passes from the mayor’s office. The clerk looked at them wearily. Someone shouted an objection to the line breakers and was shushed.

  “Yeah, Whitman?” the clerk huffed and handed Zack two clip on guest passes. They said ‘VIP guest’. He waved them through. They stopped to clip on the passes.

  “This is kind of embarrassing,” observed Mo looking sheepishly at the crowd outside.

  “The price of fame. They’ll get over it.” Zack shoved his sunglasses in his pocket. Mo shrugged and did the same though she was hoping she wouldn’t be recognized. Posters of her in costume had been plastered all over the city for weeks. Fortunately not that many people recognized her without the extreme makeup. Lucky she hadn’t seen the paper, Zack thought, observing that she was a little ill at ease.

  It didn’t take long to forget everything else once they entered the exhibit. The docent gave a cursory nod at their passes and directed them to the desk to get earphones and pamphlets. Zack brushed his lips against Mo’s nose as he adjusted hers. It was the first romantic gesture since their kiss that morning. She didn’t know what she should expect. Didn’t know what she wanted. Only that she thrilled at the light touch of his lips. A memory of the night before glimmered in her mind as Zack took her hand and they looked up at a huge painting. It depicted a scene from the palace of Tutankhamen in ancient Egypt. He squeezed her hand and she realized he was genuinely excited to see the exhibit. She didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to her that he actually wanted to see it.

  She kept her hand in his as they wandered along listening to the tour. Sometimes they’d separate as she moved closer to read a plaque or he tried to get a better look a jeweled knife. They’d nudge each other to look. They pointed their fingers and nodded. They meandered and once lost each other. When they found each other Zack held her hand firmly until he relaxed and she pulled away to wave at him, “Look at this!” She mouthed at gleaming golden statuary.

>   Mo studied the costumes that were so beautiful and elaborate they took her breath away. Cleopatra, she thought. The story of Cleopatra and Marc Anthony. They had to let her do it for the tour in two year’s time. It took time to create a theme for the show. It would be dazzling. A hit all over the world. Millions would throng to see it. A sold out show wherever it went. Just like this amazing exhibit. She would produce it. The thrill of that idea was as exciting as the idea of starring in such a spectacle. They had to let her produce it. She had already done some drawings inspired by articles in the paper and what she’d looked up online. Crude as they were. Irv…Sally would go insane with the costumes. It would cost a fortune! She pulled that piece of pie out of the sky when someone impatiently tapped her shoulder. She excused herself with embarrassment and realized she’d lost track of where she was in the taped tour. Zack leaned against a wall watching her with laughter in his expression. She looked at his tall strong body, his wide shoulders, and his lightly tanned muscular legs. His lips pulled into an even bigger smile as she approached him. He brushed his lips on her brow and took her hand once more and entered the final room of the exhibit.

  Mo thrilled at the sight of it. The sarcophagus was bigger than she imagined. The mummy preserved in stunning burial garb was breath taking. She gripped Zack’s hand with excitement. Thousands of years had passed since the life of the boy king. They circled the sarcophagus. Oh, how she would have loved to reach out and touch it. The velvet ropes kept the crowd from doing exactly that. That and the eagle eyed docents. Mo stared at the mummy as if unable to take in enough. From behind Zack put his arms around her and they both gazed in astonishment at the boy who had come back to be adored by the whole world after centuries hidden beneath a pyramid.

  Mo tucked her new coffee cup into her backpack. “Don’t weigh that thing down,” Zack had warned. She shoved her giant bag with two huge exhibit books into his arms. Then she looked at her new Egyptian earrings. They were golden cats with emerald eyes. The goddess Bastet. She wasn’t a big jewelry wearer but these had been irresistible. And expensive.

  Zack enjoyed watching her enjoy herself but something had kind of pinched inside when she bought six hundred dollar earrings. He tried to shove down the sensation, the knowledge, that he couldn’t buy her six hundred dollar earrings. He felt like a sexist. Knew it was sexist, but it felt as if a line had been drawn between them. Different worlds, he thought. He tried to let the feeling go. “Come on.”

  They walked along the sidewalk of Grant Park. It was crowded but not so much that it was uncomfortable. Monday was a lighter day after the weekend crowds and they agreed they were lucky to have time off during the week. They took a turn toward the lake strolling along the concrete shoreline. Ten miles of shoreline, mostly sand, he explained to her. No buildings but one east of Lakeshore drive. And that one very exclusive, naturally. Bikers and runners ran along the seawall. Zack pointed out a lone swimmer in a wetsuit about thirty yards out battling the waves. “That guy out there swims for miles every day. It has to get pretty rough or cold to keep him out. I don’t know why, I’ve never had a chance to ask. I’ve never caught him out of the water.” The wind seemed to pick up and at the next opportunity he led her through an underpass coming up on the other side of Lakeshore drive.

  They meandered while Zack talked about the city. They wound up on Michigan Avenue and he explained they were not far from where she’d had her shopping trip that netted the White Sox cap. Crowds flowed out of the Museum of the Art Institute while Mo swore she would visit the Impressionist exhibit before she left town. To her surprise Zack said he’d already seen it. “You’re a man with many hidden facets, Detective Burnham. This city is so beautiful. I think I need to come here more. The Tutankhamen exhibit was so inspiring. I mean interesting but it inspired so many ideas for a show I’ve been thinking about since I first read about the exhibit in the paper. Look at these Lions.” She gazed in admiration up at the life size statues. “I wish I’d brought my camera. Do you come here often?” This she said in a flirtatious tone with a raised brow and a purse of her full lips.

  “Not often enough.” He ran a finger down her cheek. He backed her against the plinth beneath one of the verdigris lions. He held the package with her books in one arm and cupped her chin, tilting it up to lightly caress her lips with his. Mo put her arms around his neck and pulled his lips harder to hers. She was ready to commit to a full lip lock after the few brief teasing kisses throughout the day. If they were going to be lovers…

  Zack didn’t waste time trying to interpret signals. He held her close and did justice to the mouth he’d wanted to really kiss all afternoon. Some people were squeamish about public displays of affection and he had always been one of those people. He would have bet money she was also but there she was, pulling him hard to her body, pressing provocatively against him. Were they breaking through their inhibitions? Or just making the most of the short time they had? He wanted to catch a cab home and he sensed she’d be willing.

  Mo wrapped her arms around Zack’s waist and pressed her face against his throat. She felt him swallow and thought about her strange dream. She fantasized the two of them flying through the air and felt a strange pressure in her sternum. She remembered the umbrella and how she plunged it into her chest; piercing her center, freeing herself from fear. She felt physically safe with him but an undercurrent of another kind of fear lent a bitter taste to the back of her tongue. She didn’t understand it and wanted to block it out. Only so much time. With him. He was kissing his light kisses into her hair and suddenly she could have sworn she heard music. Was that music? “What is that?”

  “That is street dance, Senorita! Come on.” He pulled her until they had gotten north and east of the museum. On the grassy area south of the “Bean” was a band set up playing Latin music. A voluptuous woman in Brazilian carnival garb led about a two hundred people as they danced to the upbeat tempo. Many danced by themselves. Dozens had partners. Quite a few were lost in exaltation as they stepped and twirled to a Salsa beat. Some lined up and followed the leader in a sultry line dance. Many people were gathered around the dancers clapping and tapping and wriggling their bodies to the music. The wind blew hair and hats and no one seemed to notice or care. Zack led Mo over to where a cop had lost all sense of authority and was jiggling in his blues. “Hey, Leon.”

  Leon was riveted to attention. “Dude. What you doing…oh, yeah sorry.” Zack and Ray were a hot topic of speculation in the ranks.

  “This is Mo, Mo this is Leon.” Leon relaxed and held out his hand. “Lee, if you’re hanging around a few minutes let me leave these books here.” Zack leaned the books against a bike rack. With a brief objection from Mo he dropped her backpack with them. “It’ll be safe with Leon.

  “Unless I see a pickpocket…damn you’re gonna dance! If I wasn’t on the job.” He watched them with envy as they joined the party.

  Mo smiled nervously as Zack led her into the crowd. “Wait, Zack, I’m not too…” She had never danced to Latin music. He whirled her and settled into a simple step. He turned her and held her by the waist nuzzling her ear from behind. He spun her with a laugh as she tried to keep up. He pulled her close and their bodies moved together as she tried to let go of the sudden shyness she felt. He swept her in a circle. Mo ran her hands down his sides her eyes on his. She was caught up now, following his lead. He amazed her with another hidden facet and she spun with the joy of it in his arms. She felt as if they were soaring. He laughed at the light in her eyes and brought her in for a teasing kiss before swinging her around. His hands grabbed her hips his body undulating at close quarters while his eyes seared into hers. The little gold flecks in his green eyes seemed to brighten. “What if I picked you up and…?” When he lifted and spun her she shrieked with surprise and laughed a whole and free laugh. He reveled in the sound of it. He set her down and caught her close as the rhythm changed to something slow and sultry.

  “A Brazilian carnival act. Wouldn’t that be fun?” M
o slid her finger along his collar gazing into his face.

  “Still got work on the brain, Ms. Whitman?” He dipped her deeply. She laughed a little breathlessly.

  “Not work, inspiration. Admit it, works rarely far from your thoughts.” She shimmied around him.

  He’d never seen anything sexier than the wisps of hair that came loose from her braid. And wearing a White Sox ball cap. She was an angel! “Guess what I’m thinking about right now. Hint. It’s not work.” He pulled her close and swayed. He had forgotten everything. Ray, Al, the robbery suspect. He could just see her. It felt…right. If only. He sucked up the brief spasm of doubt and pulled her in and kissed her like his life depended on it. As if she was the source of the air he breathed.

  Mo felt a surge of panic at the intensity of his kiss. She didn’t give a damn about the crowd. It was that jab of fear again. The sensation of being on that whipping wire. Not in control. She was working without a net so she clung more tightly and told herself not to think beyond the moment. His lips left hers. He seemed to be trying to imprint her scent into his memory. His face was in her hair. A place he seemed to not get enough of. She put her slender fingers on either side of his face and stroked lightly at his temples. She looked into his eyes and thought of him as a kind of warrior and poet mentally chuckling at herself. Yet he had surprised her in so many ways. His gentleness. His ferocity in bed as he took her past anything she’d ever known. The variety of his interests. He could see the Impressionists show again he had said. Who knew? They had a few days. She didn’t want to think about the future. At that moment she wanted to be frozen in time with him. She had almost stopped hearing the music due to the pounding of her heart in her ears.