An Equation For Murder

by Jayne Nichols

  Shit.

  She checked the headlights, the dome light, and anything else that might have been left on accidentally. Nothing. So, it was probably a dead battery with lousy timing. Triple A would fix that, she thought, retrieving her cell phone from her purse only to note the battery was too low to make a call. Wanting to both scream and cry, she leaned against the side of the car wondering what to do. Where had her head been lately? She was not usually so careless.

  Nor was she helpless. There would be phones in the Student Union building which she could use to call a taxi to take her to the hospital and Triple A to fix her car. She tossed her math book onto the back seat.

  A motorcycle stopped behind her car. “Trouble, lady?”

  “It won’t start. I think the battery must be dead,” she explained, then cringed when the rider removed his helmet and smiled at her.

  “Can I help?” Sam asked.

  “I don’t know that there’s anything you can do. I was just going to see if there was a phone in the Student Union to call Triple A.” His eyes questioned the cell phone she currently held in her hand. “Low battery,” she said. “I seem to be batting a thousand today.”

  He reached into his jacket pocket. “Here, use my iPhone.”

  Lillian stared at the thin, rectangular device in his hand. “Sam, I just have an old-fashioned flip phone where I dial a number and somebody answers. I have no idea how to use that thing.”

  Sam smiled. “Give me the number. I’ll dial.”

  She searched through her wallet for the Triple A card Rusty had always made her carry. When she held it toward Sam, it slipped from her fingers to the ground. “Shit. I just don’t need this right now,” she muttered, bending to pick up the card. She handed it to him. “I’m sorry. I have to get to the hospital, and I’m late… for a very important appointment.” Her eyes met his guiltily. “As usual.”

  His laugh was infectious. “So, my class isn’t the only recipient of your tardiness?”

  “Not today, it isn’t.”

  He replaced the phone in his pocket along with the Triple A card. “How about I give you a ride to the hospital? I can come back and check under the hood. If it’s something I can’t fix, I’ll call Triple A for you. Then I’ll come get you and bring you back here.”

  Lillian stared at him, so stunned she knew her mouth was hanging open. She closed it abruptly. “That’s very nice of you, but…”

  “No buts allowed. Hop on.”

  “Hop on?” She shook her head and laughed. “This may come as a surprise to you, Sam, but I’ve never ridden on the back of a motorcycle in my entire life.”

  “First time for everything. College. Motorcycles. Before you know it, Lillian, you’ll be a woman of the world.” He opened the compartment behind the passenger seat, then reached for her handbag and dropped it inside. “Give me your hand.”

  “Oh, Sam, I don’t know about this.”

  “Trust me.”

  Lillian glanced down at her expensive designer slacks, doubly glad she hadn’t been able to get into the hip-hugging, too tight dress she’d been considering prior to this morning’s call from the hospital. She held out her hand, felt his fingers close securely around her palm. “This looks so much easier on television. You know, like when the cowboy sort of flings himself gracefully into the saddle.”

  He tugged on her hand. “I’m sure you can be equally graceful.”

  Graceful was hardly the way she felt, but she did finally manage to straddle the seat behind him. “What do I do now? There’s nothing to hold on to.”

  “Just relax and hold on to me.”

  Lillian’s throat constricted immediately, refusing to allow her to swallow. When she put her hands tentatively on his shoulders, he reached up and took hold of her hands, then readjusted them to circle his waist.

  “I don’t have my extra helmet with me today. Do you want to wear mine?”

  Her fingers had a death grip on the front of his jacket. “No, thank you. I think it would be better if you wore it. You know, safer.”

  “I’m pretty good at this, Lillian.”

  “I’m sure you are.” Her heart was going a mile a minute, but she wasn’t certain how much of that was due to the impending motorcycle ride and how much to the man she had her arms around. “Unfortunately, I’m not.”

  Chapter Seven

  Sam dropped Lillian at the front entrance to the hospital. His offer to park and walk her inside had been rejected. With a smile and a grateful thank you, but rejected just the same. He had adhered to the San Sebastian city speed limit, so her hair hadn’t been too mussed up by the ride, and she had actually been grinning, her cheeks a healthy, wind-aided pink, when she’d finally managed to get off. Having never ridden his bike as a passenger, he had no idea whether getting on or off the seat behind him was a difficult maneuver, but he was certain Lillian had looked as graceful doing it as any cowboy he had ever seen dismount a horse on television. She had also looked like she’d enjoyed every minute of the ride.

  Lillian Moore was certainly an interesting woman—and growing more interesting by the minute. Stopping to help her had probably been a mistake, yet it went against his upbringing to leave a lady in distress.

  Sam parked his classic Harley in the space next to her car. Luckily he’d remembered to get her car keys before Lillian had fled into the building. From inside the car, he popped the hood. No matter how expensive the vehicle, they all had batteries with cables, and when they became dirty or corroded, the electric connection could break. He was not an auto mechanic, but he did know how to fix a few things and always carried a repair kit for emergencies. Taking out a wire brush, he used it to clean the cable connections, then reattached them to the battery. Her car’s engine started first try.

  No need to call Triple A for help.

  He checked his watch. Lillian had said she would need at least an hour, so he locked the bike and went in search of a restroom where he could wash the grease off his hands and get a soda to rinse the dryness from his mouth. He stuck a dollar into the vending machine, retrieved his favorite cream soda, and headed down the stairs to the bathrooms.

  The crack in the mirror above the only sink in the men’s room was the same one that had been there last semester. The hot water spigot still just trickled while the cold one gushed, and after a few uses, male students usually remembered to turn it on slowly or else leave the room with their pants wet in a very conspicuous spot.

  Sam studied his reflection while he soaped his hands, noting the few gray hairs beginning to invade the dark ones at his temples. He had always thought he would mind getting older. Now he wasn’t so sure. Especially if he could remain as youthful looking as Lillian. Grandmother or not, he had definitely liked the feel of her body pressed against him, even if she’d simply been hanging on for dear life. Thinking about her had his hormones churning in a way they hadn’t stirred in a very long time. Not only that, he was beginning to like her more than was wise, considering she was his student.

  Sam checked his phone for messages. There were none. Evidently, she was still at her appointment. He climbed the stairs to the cafeteria, hoping it wasn’t anything serious. Thirty minutes later, he parked the Harley in the hospital visitor lot and went in search of Lillian. He had checked his phone several times, but she hadn’t called him yet, so he figured he could wait for her here more comfortably than in the Student Union cafeteria.

  The San Sebastian Hospital waiting areas were well known for their varied and beautiful aquariums, and Sam planned to wander through the building and check them out using the map he was getting at the information desk. The receptionist smiled knowingly when he asked her to point out the various waiting areas. There were six, one on each floor, and she circled them for him.

  “Be sure to see the father’s waiting area in the nursery,” she advised him, her accent thick with the flavor of a Texas barbecue. “That’s up on the third floor. Of course, nowadays, most fathers want to attend the birthing, but the f
ish in that aquarium are the most exotic ones in the entire hospital. You won’t want to miss them.”

  “Thanks. I’ll make that one a priority.”

  By the time Sam had reached the third floor, he was seriously wondering if he had missed Lillian. Nearly two hours had gone by since he’d dropped her off, so it was either that or the appointment had turned out to be longer than she’d expected. That happened a lot with doctors. In the airline and hotel industry, it was called over booking. He didn’t think she would leave the hospital without contacting him.

  The receptionist had been correct, and he was glad he’d saved the third floor aquarium for last. The fish swimming around in the several joined water worlds built into the wall were every color of the rainbow and every size and shape. He almost hated to leave the peaceful scene, but he was getting concerned about finding Lillian.

  Passing by the nursery on his way to the elevator, he stopped to glance in the window at the babies in their blue and pink carts. Had it really been twelve years since he’d stood outside a similar window gazing in at his newborn son? Though a lot of time had passed, it didn’t seem any different. One nursery looked pretty much the same as another, except for the darkened room connected to this one. He’d read about such rooms set aside for babies born with drug addictions where they could be cared for separately, but when he glanced into the room, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

  Walking slowly back and forth across the room, a small bundle in her arms, was Lillian.

  * * *

  Lillian exited the elevator and stopped in her tracks. He was waiting for her in the lobby, slouching in a chair opposite the reception desk. As Lillian approached him, Sam looked up and smiled, then setting aside the magazine he’d been reading, he stood and stretched. Almost like a cat coming awake from its nap. A tiger type cat.

  “Everything go all right?” he asked, his gaze sliding over her in a subtle caress that made her shiver with awareness. Of him.

  He was much too handsome. Much too masculine. And much too young. She inhaled quickly. “Yes, everything is going to be… just fine.”

  His eyebrows tightened in a puzzled frown. “Is there something wrong, Lillian?”

  “No, of course not. Except that I’ve kept you waiting.”

  “That’s okay. I took a tour of the hospital. Did you know they have some pretty spectacular aquariums in the waiting rooms?”

  “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, I especially liked the one down the hall from the nursery.”

  “The nursery?” She smiled hesitantly, her fingers playing unconsciously with her wedding ring. “I don’t think I’ve seen that one.”

  “Lots of pretty fish.” Sam reached for her hands, held them loosely in his. “You might not believe this, but in this semi-darkened room next to the nursery, there was this very beautiful woman. She was holding a baby, walking back and forth while she sang to it.”

  Lillian cleared her throat, unable to avert her eyes from his mesmerizing gaze. “Really?”

  “Uh huh. She looked exactly like you.”

  He knew, and that fact had her dismissing his compliment in favor of finding a way to salvage her secret. No one else knew she did this. None of her club friends. Not even Amanda. Now it seemed her secret was no longer hers alone. She drew her hands slowly from his.

  “It was you, wasn’t it?”

  She blinked away the tears the look of amazement on his face had provoked. “Is it so surprising that I might know how to hold a baby?”

  He must have realized how rude his words sounded because his smile was both immediate and contrite. “I didn’t mean it that way. So, is this why you’re occasionally late to my class?”

  Lillian merely nodded, nibbling on her lower lip.

  “You impress me, Lillian Moore. You really do.”

  * * *

  Carlos lay on the bed. Lenora sauntered toward him, waving a condom package, a catch-me-if-you-can look on her face. She unfastened her bra, let it dangle from the fingers of her free hand.

  “How much do you want me, Carlos?”

  Though she was quick, he caught her around the waist. “You know how much.” He pointed to his full and throbbing cock, then dragged her down on top of him.

  “Show me.”

  The woman was playing mouse to his cat, and he enjoyed the foreplay nearly as much as the final act. He slipped his fingers inside her bikini panties, searching. Her body arched against his touch. “Come sit on my face and let me taste you,” he ordered.

  She brushed her hair back from her face. Her tongue slid along her bottom lip. “You know how to please a woman, don’t you, Carlos?”

  “I like to think this pleases us both.”

  She moved into place above him. He tugged her panties aside and pulled her core to his mouth. While she held tightly to the headboard, her hips moving rhythmically, he stroked her with his tongue. Listened to her moan with pleasure as he sucked the sweetness from her body.

  “Baby, you are so good to me. Your turn.” She slid downward over his body, her mouth teasing, then devouring.

  “You keep that up, you’re going to waste the condom.”

  She chuckled, then tore the condom open with her teeth and skimmed it over his upright cock, tormenting him with every caress until he was finally buried deep inside her. They came together in a fury, rattling the bed with the intensity of their lovemaking.

  Carlos had slept with so many women he had lost count, but not one of them had satisfied his craving for good sex the way Lenora did. He thought her need might actually be greater than his own. He gathered her close, wishing he could ignore the real reason for this visit, but Manuel would not be pleased if he shirked his duty. No matter how he phrased the request, he was sure to bungle it.

  “Lenora, I have a favor to ask.”

  Her hand slid across his naked belly. “You know I would do anything for you.”

  Carlos caught hold of her hand and reluctantly pushed it away from him. “No, not sex. I would like you to make me a copy of the Jaguar mask.”

  She stared at him for a moment before her mouth curved into a suspicious grin. “What do you want it for?”

  “It would be better if you didn’t know.”

  She slipped out of bed and into a skimpy t-shirt, then turned around and crossed her arms underneath her breasts. “Something illegal?”

  “Of course not.” Carlos had to think quickly. An ability he didn’t have in abundance. And not at all when he was naked. “Lenora, you’re so talented. The replica of the village you did is amazing.” He tugged on her t-shirt, drawing her closer, then slid his hands beneath it. Heard her faint gasp of delight as he fondled her breasts. “I may not be able to come again for awhile, and I thought you could make me a remembrance of our time together.”

  “You want the mask of a Jaguar god to remember me by?”

  Carlos swallowed the lump in his throat, afraid she could see through the lie on his face. “That’s how we met. At the Mayan display.”

  “So, it’s not to be just any old Jaguar god. You want me to make you a copy of the Ahau B’alam Jaguar mask from the museum’s collection.”

  “That’s right.”

  Her breath quickened the instant his fingers dipped between her legs. She threw her head back, growled deep in her throat. Then kneeling on the bed, she straddled him, ran her fingers through his hair and leaned down to nibble on his ear. “I want ten thousand American dollars.”

  “What?” His dick went limp.

  “You heard me. Surely, the memory of me is worth that much.”

  She smiled sweetly, but Carlos saw only determination and avarice in her gaze. “Of course, it is.”

  While she continued to service him, Carlos prayed silently that Manuel would not kill him for making this deal.

  Chapter Eight

  Sam had promised to keep her confidence, though why Lillian didn’t want it known that she had a heart of pure gold was beyond him. He couldn�
�t even imagine Rachel giving her time in such a way. His ex-wife was much too selfish.

  He had also promised to look the other way if she was late to class, though he did remind her that too many tardy marks could lower her grade. Over the last two weeks, she’d only been late once. He just wished she would devote as much time and energy to her study of math as she did to her other classes and her extra-curricular activities. Although at this point she could probably be as tardy as she wanted, because having failed two tests already, she was not destined to get a passing grade. She was falling too far behind, so Andy Gibson was probably going to have her in his class next semester.

  And that thought did not please Sam. Not at all.

  Sam parked his Harley in the single garage beneath his condo. Across the body of the bike in front of him was a plastic bag containing his tux. He’d had to pay extra to have it cleaned on such short notice, but Walter had neglected to tell him until yesterday afternoon that he would be attending the San Sebastian Hospital benefit dinner at the Hilton. In Walter’s place, of course. The sneaky old man had been to more than his share of these boring events, and unfortunately, Sam had been in the wrong place at the right time with replacement written all over him.

  One of these days, he was going to have to say no and mean it. That meant he would have to be willing to walk away with just his pride. It was hard to live on pride. He was still paying on both the condo and the Harley, not to mention child support, so his paycheck took precedence over his pride.

  While he stood in the shower, Sam thought about the drop slip that had been pushed through the mail slot in his office door. Lillian was dropping his class, and she needed to do it before mid-term in order to avoid a failing grade. Even though the class didn’t count credit wise, she still had to follow the procedures. He hated to see her quit, wondering where he’d failed her. She had a bright, inquiring mind, yet math word problems had her stumped. At least, they did on a test. She seemed to follow the reasoning well enough in a classroom setting, but when left on her own, she choked.