We mellowed out after an hour or two of dancing by listening to some great jazz upstairs at Van Dyke's, our next stop. It was rich and elegant, fine fabrics and real oak timbers. Downstairs was a bit trendier. It was a great place to wind down after dancing. I caressed LeAnn underneath one of the cafe style tables where no one could see. She was chatting with the girls and crossed her legs so I couldn't remove my hand. Stinker. A girl with a fantastic voice was singing the old Sergio Mendes tune, So Many Stars. LeAnn pulled me to her when it was over and kissed me. Annette told us she had always wanted to see The Shore Club in Miami Beach, so we headed for the spectacular resort on the ocean next. We loved its maze of gardens and the Art Deco foyer. We relaxed at the Skybar in its lovely Red Room Garden. Lanterns with candles, and hanging trees sheltering the softly lighted area where you could sit on massive cushions made for a quietly romantic atmosphere.
Pablo said we couldn't leave Miami without doing Tobacco Road on South Miami Avenue. Most people said it was Miami's oldest place to whet your whistle. Al Capone, a famous gangster from the early portion of the twentieth century, had frequented the place when not in Old Chicago. It looked old and traditional. Homestyle ribs that fell off the bone and some really rockin' band the girls did some hootin' and hollerin' for offered something for both sexes. It was late, very late, when we piled into the Ferrari outside Tobacco Road. Most of the upscale in Miami had taken to glider craft, making traffic on the famous Venetian causeway connecting Miami to South Beach sparse. At this hour, it was non-existent. I opened up the throttle and let the Ferrari's horses out to play. Miami was still alive just over the bridge and we flew across the night in a blur of purple lights marking the causeway. In the mirror I could see the wind whipping the girls' hair, and even against the throaty roar of the Ferrari I could hear an occasional scream of pleasure from one or perhaps all of our sexy cheerleaders.
I spun into the big circular drive on Miami Beach and dropped off Stacy, who asked Pablo and Annette if they wouldn't mind staying. Edna and Doc had left for New Chicago, and Jennie had the evening off. It would be her first night in her new home and she didn't want to be alone, she explained. They agreed, but I knew Stacy was doing it for us as well, so that LeAnn and I could have some time alone. We had picked up two stray cats on this trip and it was cramping our spontaneity a bit. I felt a twinge of guilt at Stacy's plight; a murdered husband she'd barely had time to make memories with, and an ex fiancé involved in something over his head that had gotten both he and Stacy's new husband murdered.
LeAnn laid over in my lap on the drive back. She gave me a delicious taste of all I'd been missing while I steered with one hand and stroked the beautiful hair filling my lap. She was wonderful and I was in love with her. Maybe I'd been in love with her from that moment in New Chicago when I saw her cling to the Leslie Gore CD. She was a Cherry 6, or at least I had believed so at the time, and I risked losing everything when I took her home. I already loved her. My reward had been a life so rich and full of love that I could never come close to repaying her.
We necked for ages in the Ferrari before going inside the house. Words kind and loving were whispered to each other while I ran fingers through her soft, long dark hair and we kissed tenderly. She took me by the hand and led me to the bed. We were exhausted from the evening, yet never more alive. She said to me softly, "I'll do anything for a passing grade, professor. I want to stay on the squad." With that, she slipped out of her underthings, turned around and lay her head down on the bed. Her knees rested on the edge of the mattress. I lifted the lovely little skirt and covered with kisses the soft sweet rear of the most beautiful girl left on Earth. My hands adored her white legs and my tongue adored more secretive places. Tiny girl sounds reflecting her pleasure filled the room, and as the evening reluctantly gave way to the soft purple of early morning in Miami, I stood pounding and adoring the best girl, the finest wife, and the most wonderful piece of ass any man ever called his own. We lay spent afterward, truly exhausted now. I managed to turn her and tuck her in and she fell fast asleep in her cute little outfit. I slipped quietly into the bathroom. I was momentarily blinded as light from the rising sun shone through the window and reflected off the silver wrist chronometer laying on the sink.
Then it hit me. I replayed the scene in my head. The blinding flash of light on metal in that split second when the female shooter had jumped into the car. Something about the small build of the driver had seemed familiar but hadn't fully registered. The glint of light bouncing off metal. Braces.
Chapter Twenty-Five
For without the possibility of love, what reason does the heart have to go on beating?
Stacy opened the patio doors, allowing the early morning breeze to cool the bedroom. She let her snow-white skirt slide to the floor, then pulled the soft USC top over the swell of her breasts. She remembered the way Pedro had kissed them and sighed. The cool air felt invigorating. What a night! She hadn't had so much fun since Paris, and that had been years ago. It was like she had been in some kind of holding pattern since then. She sat on one of the cushioned wicker chairs in her panties and bra. The silky underwear was the darker USC color and the bra the soft white of the outfit. She smiled. LeAnn thought of everything. She laughed to herself, putting her feet up on the bistro table. She remembered Pedro's kisses up and down them and his whispered praises of their beauty, her beauty. She had thought of him many times tonight. It was strange. She had loved John, had a life with him ripped away unexpectedly. He had given her back her confidence. He had loved her and she had loved him. Edna said every time you loved someone it was different. She wondered now if she was letting something wonderful go because of decorum, and her guilt at what she had done so soon after John's death. She understood now that it had helped her heal, and Pedro had unknowingly saved her. But was there something more? She'd had a blast tonight, safe revealing herself in front of friends, but the entire evening, in the back of her mind, she had hungered for Pedro to be there. She hungered for him now.
She went to her dresser and removed his letter, then came back. Dawn was breaking and she read his words once more. She studied them more carefully, with a wisdom that had come upon her in only the last few days. Oh my God! He loved her! It hit her like a lightning bolt. He wasn't saying goodbye, he was simply protecting his heart because he had decided he was being foolish, and she could not possibly love him! She sat stunned, trying to think. Did she love Pedro? Perhaps. Or perhaps it was that she wanted to find out if her feelings could become love. He was a few years younger, but she had never been hung up on a few years either way. John had been a bit older than she. She suddenly felt a thrill she had not felt before. It was physical and emotional.
Exhaustion overcame her. They had painted the town red as the old saying went. She folded Pedro's letter and smiled, slipping it into her panties while she walked to bed. He could be close to her for a moment. In the morning, she would call him and they would talk. She was nervous that she might be wrong. Edna had told her to trust her instincts both with the company and in her personal life. Stacy's heart told her that she was right. Pedro was in love with her. But she needed to speak to him soon. She slipped under the covers and put the letter under her pillow, in an old-fashioned gesture. Stacy knew she was romantic and sweet at heart, and was no longer ashamed of it. She was easy. All you had to do was love her, and you could have all the girl love you ever dreamed of, because she gave all when she loved. If Pedro wanted her, she was going to fuck his sweet ass all he wanted.
She was alive know, so alive she couldn't sleep. She got out of bed and walked to the patio doorway. She saw movement across the way where Jennie stayed, and wondered if she was returning earlier than expected. Annette and Pablo were in one of the larger bedrooms. She knew what they would be doing if they weren't too tired, and the thought made her smile. She liked Annette, and her boyfriend seemed like a good guy, even though he was quiet. Matt was quiet too. He usually let everyone else talk and it only seemed like he wa
s part of the conversation. In reality, Stacy had observed, he usually listened much more than he spoke. He was the best guy she'd ever known, and LeAnn the best friend she'd ever had. She knew what they were doing right now too, because LeAnn had whispered in her ear.
Her eyes felt heavy and she returned to bed. She drifted to sleep thinking of Pedro, oblivious to the bedroom door opening ever so slowly…
Chapter Twenty-Six
For hate is love's greatest enemy, blinding the heart and soul so that it cannot see the light of love
I don't know why I was so surprised. Was it because Jennie had been a Cherry 6, and immediately earned my trust? Was it because she worked for Edna? It was inevitable that one day one of Edna's 'projects' wouldn't pan out. Her belief in the Almighty and His power to heal, made others believe. But Jennie had been a Cherry 6 and perhaps there was more damage than Edna had foreseen. If Jennie had seen what was in that file, she had more reasons to hate than she had to love. Anyone else who had seen it would need to be eliminated. It was the only logical course of action. Stacy had seen the file. So had Annette and Pablo. So had we. I could not be everywhere at once. I punched Stacy's number into the telecom. No answer. Damn. She might simply have turned it off for the night. I shook LeAnn. "Oh, Professor she mumbled. I may need to stay after class for more tutoring." I would have liked to jump all over that, but it wasn't the time.
"Babe." Something in my voice brought her alive and alert.
"What's happened?"
I briefly explained.
"You have to go! Go make sure Stacy is alright."
"Jennie dropped her off here, remember?"
"So? I won't be here, I'm going with you anyway. I need something besides the pea shooter though." She was referring to the small but potent derringer she'd had since we faced down Arthur Ballard at Aerodyne in Paris. LeAnn was feminine, but always rose to the occasion when faced with peril. She was afraid, but had the strength of character to fight through it. I gave her the Howzer. She couldn't miss with it, and its armor piercing rounds would obliterate anything she did hit. I prayed it didn't come to that.
"Do you have Annette's number?"
She was punching it in almost before I'd finished asking.
"Annette? Yeah, I know, but something's happened. I'm putting Matt on the phone."
Annette's use of the ancient term, 'phone' seemed to be catching on. I'd heard Stacy use it earlier.
"Annette, this is Matt. Where are you at?"
"Whadda ya mean?" She sounded sleepy. "Oh, you mean what part of the castle here. We're on the other side from Stacy, I think."
"Are you armed?" Living like they had been, out of her car and on the streets, it was a fair assumption that they had some way of protecting themselves. "Yeah, Pablo got me an old revolver last year. We only have three bullets in it though." Three was better than none.
"Alright," I told her. "Listen carefully. If there is a lock on your door, lock it, and if not, have Pablo move something in front of it to block entry somehow until I get there."
"What's going on?" It was Pablo.
"Did you get all that?" I asked.
"Yeah, I heard." In the background I could hear him telling Annette to get under the bed and give him the gun. She was objecting.
"Look, just do it, then both of you hide somewhere. If anyone other than Stacy opens that door, shoot them, and shoot to kill. Do you understand?" There was a pause.
"Yeah, we understand." Annette, again.
"We'll be there as quick as we can. Hopefully I'm just being paranoid."
"How will we know it's you?"
"I'll say it's Derek Jeter."
"Who?"
I heard Pablo explaining to her about the Yankee great. I was really beginning to like that kid.
"Sit tight," I instructed, then I ended the call.
We flew through the streets of Miami in the Ferrari the way Crockett and Tubbs had a couple of centuries before. There was no moody and driving Phil Collins tune accompanying us, however, just the sound of the Ferrari's power plant driving us ever faster towards whatever awaited us. The long sleek bridge was a blur yet it seemed everything had slowed down, like I was watching it in slow-motion. LeAnn held the big Howzer in her lap, and the USC skirt seemed as though it belonged to another world now, a decent world where fun and happiness existed. LeAnn had seen me kill before. She had been in Ballard's office when I'd killed his two bodyguards. But this was a girl, a former Cherry 6 like LeAnn. She was human, and probably so messed up that there was no way back. I prayed I did not have to kill her to save Stacy, and if I did, LeAnn would not witness it.
I had a lot of speed built up and killed the engine as I hit the long and winding driveway, silently coasting on the smooth surface. The house was still and quiet, at least the portions visible from the front. I put my finger to my lips and motioned LeAnn to leave the doors open when we exited. I took off my shoes and LeAnn did the same. The stonework drive was smooth like glass, and cool to my feet. I kept LeAnn behind me, out of the first line of fire. I wanted to tell her to stay in the car, but knew she needed to be with me, because she loved me. The front door was shut, but opened easily. I knew what that meant. I scanned the grounds behind us, but saw no indication of transportation. They probably came up from the beach, by boat, and walked here. Pros.
I made sure the foyer was clear, then signaled to LeAnn that the coast was clear. I listened. Silence. But it would be if they were pros. They had sent two each time; two guys at the morgue, and two at the Greyhound terminal. Had there been time to get someone else? Maybe. Maybe not. It might be the woman with the nice rack, hot ass, and deadly disposition. And maybe Jennie. We were in the middle of a big open room that seemed to be the center point to everywhere in the house. We were exposed and I didn't like it. LeAnn was wearing white, making her easy to spot. I didn't like that either. I heard a soft footfall off to my left. LeAnn heard it too. We moved slowly, carefully, towards the sound. It was early morning outside, but still pretty dark inside. I felt the grit of sand beneath my feet on the plush carpet. We were headed in the right direction. There was a light thump about ten yards ahead of us and then a tremendous boom from inside the room, followed by a flash as the woman in the hallway fired back. Wood splintered and I fired the silent Nakra in the direction of the woman in the same instant LeAnn fired from behind me.
Her shot nearly ripped off the woman's shoulder, spinning her around and causing mine to miss her. She was alive but unconscious. I could hear LeAnn breathing hard, and took her hand in mine. "It's okay, you were great. She's not dead." Since the second shooter now knew they had company, there was no need for stealth. I hollered, "Derek Jeter."
I heard furniture sliding across wood, and the door opened. "Thank God," blurted an excited Annette. "I missed a little."
Behind her Pablo was gesturing with his arms wide open, to show how far off she'd been from the mark. "It's okay. LeAnn got her. She's alive, but she's out. Call an ambulance and Civil Enforcement."
Annette sat down on the bed and Pablo sat next to her. While she punched in the number, I asked which room was Stacy's. I went into the hallway and brought back the woman's gun for Pablo, just in case the second shooter came this way. I was praying it wasn't Jennie. He nodded, pointing to Annette covertly and rolling his eyes because she couldn't shoot straight. I couldn't help smiling. Was this kid sure he had no soul?
I moved in the direction of Stacy's room, LeAnn right behind me. She was calmer now that she knew she hadn't killed anyone. She had saved the lives of Annette and Pablo. It was the only upside to violence; the good people you saved. There had been two gunshots and a heck of a lot of noise, but Stacy hadn't come running out to see what was happening. She could be hiding, of course, but I didn't get that vibe somehow. I prayed we weren't too late. Her bedroom door was open, and echoes of an intense conversation drifted into the hallway. We made our way slowly along the wall on the door side.
Stacy's voice: Why? You don't have to do this!
Edna put her trust in you. It isn't too late.
Jennie's voice: Can't you see?! You're human, for God's sake! You should hate them for what they did to us. Yet you are friends with them!
This was hard to listen to. It was fanaticism, born from a terrible crime. It was passionate hatred clothing itself in righteousness. The worst kind of hatred.
Stacy: Please, Jennie, I can help you. It was only a few, and some of them were human, Jennie, like you, like me. There is evil everywhere. I know. I saw it in Paris. I saw it from the beach in Mexico.
A pause.
Stacy: Let God help you heal, Jennie. No one is so damaged that He can't help, Jennie.
Before I could stop her, LeAnn had stepped around me and was in the room. Shit! I was at the edge of the doorway, able to see and hear everything, Nakra ready. Jennie turned her gun on LeAnn, then relaxed. Where was LeAnn's gun? I looked down. It was on the floor. Damn!
LeAnn: Jennie. I was a Cherry 6. I know what you went through. Matt's the best man on this planet, and there is no difference between him and anyone else, except that he's better, and he loves me. I love him too. Stacy's right. We can help you, protect you from all this. No one has to know you were involved. Let us be your friends. These people only hate. They don't care about you. They don't care about what happens to you. We do!
The Tender Shore: A Matt Ransom Mystery Page 9