A Younger Woman

by Wendy Rosnau

  “Koch?”

  “Koch Menaro, that was his name,” Ry explained. “He left a couple of death threats in my squad. At first I didn’t think much of it. That kind of thing happens from time to time. Nothing came of it, and life went on. A couple of the other cops received threats, too. You and I got together a few months later and then three weeks later I found another death threat. So did each of the other cops. The chief decided we should put tails on our relatives because the threats mentioned family members.”

  “Those two men you had watching me. They were protecting me?”

  “Yes. They were supposed to, but you kept ditching them and making me climb the walls.” Ry started to pace. “I thought about how vulnerable you were, and your mother, too. Even Blu. As much as he and I were at odds, I didn’t want anything to happen to him. It seemed I only had one choice left.” He stopped and looked at her.

  “Walk away.”

  Ry didn’t think it was going to be so hard to admit. Finally, he said, “Yes. I thought maybe, if I walked away quick enough, Koch would never know about you and your family.”

  “And?”

  Ry laughed bitterly. “And it worked. Koch was focusing on the other three cops first, he’d been busy staking out their houses, following their families. It was just a stroke of luck that he’d decided to come after me last. Two men lost family members before we caught up with him, and—”

  Ry heard her suck in her breath, watched her set the coffee cup down and stand. “But you caught him, right?”

  “I got a tip from one of my snitches. He said Koch was planning to hit one of the officer’s homes. The officer and his family had taken off, but his daughter had come home unexpectedly. Only it wasn’t unexpected. Koch had sent her a letter and lured her home.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “We got there in time to deactivate the bomb. The girl was unharmed.”

  The scene suddenly flashed into Ry’s mind. He’d been totally taken by surprise when Koch stepped out of the shadows to face him. He was in the house by himself, making one last check before he went back to the stationhouse to file his report.

  “Koch was in the house. He’d been there from the moment we arrived. He was wearing a dark coat and he was smiling. He had a package in his hand. A brown paper package. It reminded me of the kind of paper your mother wrapped up fish in.”

  Ry heard Margo gasp, saw her wrap her arms around herself. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I thought he’d found out about you. I thought maybe…maybe he’d done something terrible to you or your mother. I went crazy and lunged at him. I don’t think he expected that. We fought, and when I knocked him down, the package slipped from his hand. I went after him again and started beating on him. Suddenly he started screaming about a bomb, but I told him it was already defused. He said no, then pointed to the package on the floor. That’s the first I knew there was a second bomb. I wasn’t sure how much time was left, but by the look on Koch’s face I knew there couldn’t be much. He struggled to get to his feet. He was on his knees when I turned and ran. The place went up in flames just as I went through the door. I was pitched thirty feet.”

  There was a long span of silence. Finally she said, “And Koch?”

  “Dead. Everyone said he was dead. That he hadn’t gotten out. They said I was the only one who came through the door.” Ry turned back to the window and stared out into the black night.

  “But you weren’t sure, were you?”

  “I wanted a body, proof that the whole crazy nightmare was over. I went to your mother’s house, saw you in the upstairs window.” Ry shook his head. “I thought of all the crazy things that could have happened. I thought about what it would have been like if you hadn’t been there.”

  “But I was there, and I was all right.”

  Ry spun around. “I needed a body to know it was all over. I needed to know that Koch would never be able to come back and hurt you. They never found him. Nothing. The bomb leveled the house and destroyed everything. I had planned to tell you all of this once we’d caught him. I never meant to stay away from you indefinitely. When I’d come up with the idea to walk away from our relationship it wasn’t supposed to be forever, it was supposed to be just until the case was solved and Koch was frying in hell. A month, maybe two, at the most. That seemed like a long time to be without you, but it could have been forever if Koch had learned about you. It didn’t take much to convince myself that I had done the right thing and that I should keep on doing it.”

  “Because there was no body to prove it was over.”

  “Exactly. So I decided—”

  “To walk away forever.”

  Her voice sounded odd, frail. Ry ran his hands through his hair. “Your safety was top priority. Every time I weakened and thought about telling you the truth, I reminded myself of how I felt when I saw Koch holding that brown paper package. You’re everything to me, baby. I couldn’t take a chance that Koch was out there just waiting for me to start living again. If he’d managed to get out of that explosion…” Ry shook his head. “I did whatever I could to keep myself separated from everyone I cared about. I even sold my half of the ranch in Texas.”

  “Do you believe Koch is dead?”

  Ry hesitated. “The chief reminded me the other day that it’s been two years. He pointed out that if Koch was alive, I would have known about it by now. I guess I’ve been letting the ghosts from the past determine the future.”

  “And now?”

  “The past few days have shown me that there’s no guarantee either of us will make it to the end of next week. You were shot on DuBay Pier while I was napping in the hammock on the veranda. Tomorrow I could eat a bullet.”

  “Tell me about the pills.”

  Ry hated this part of his confession most of all. It wasn’t pretty having to admit you’d become a worthless slob. Would Margo be able to understand how low a man could sink? How low he’d sunk?

  “Ry…”

  “I was angry. I wanted a body, dammit. Without a body it meant I could either gamble with your life once more or learn to live without you. I made the second choice, then had a hard time living with it. I wasn’t much good to anyone for a long time. I didn’t eat, didn’t sleep. Almost lost my job.” Ry tried to smile, but he failed. “You see, baby, you were my addiction, too. My life seemed worthless without you in it. The chief tried to help, even my old snitch came to visit me a few times. As a last resort I started seeing a shrink. That’s how I got tangled up with the pills.”

  She took a step toward him, a tentative one, her eyes full of concern. “You got better, right? You don’t take the pills anymore, do you?”

  “No, not anymore.”

  “So the shrink helped?”

  “No.”

  “Then how—”

  “Did I pull myself together?”

  “Yes.”

  Ry studied the concern on her face. Would she understand? Well, he wouldn’t know until he tried to explain. He reached out and touched her cheek. “You’d just gotten the job at the Toucan, and I forced myself to go watch you perform. I’d avoided you up to that point, so seating myself at a table that first night in the same room with you was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. I expected to feel worse, sorry for myself afterward, but the crazy thing was, it made me feel better. Seeing you alive and smiling at all those people helped me realize that the sacrifice had been worth every lonely night I would spend for the rest of my life. And that night I found peace for the first time in an entire year. You see, I still had a part of you. I would always have a part of you.”

  She was visibly shaking. Ry pulled her into his arms and held her. “Easy, baby, I didn’t tell you this to upset you. I only—”

  She pulled out of his arms. “Don’t. Don’t confuse me.”

  “What do you mean, confuse you? What I thought I was doing was clearing the air.” Ry suddenly felt his hopes being flushed down the toilet. “Are you telling me it’s too late?”

  “I don�
��t know.”

  “Are you saying Brodie’s the man you want in your life?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You loved me once.”

  Visibly angry, she shook her head. “Do you think love is just something a person turns on and off?”

  “No, of course not. I knew you would need time to—”

  “To fall helplessly in love with you a second time?”

  “I admit I like the sound of that. Yes, I’d like that a lot.”

  “You should have told me the truth, damn you! You should have trusted me enough to play fair and let me make my own decision.”

  “Secrecy was important to keep Koch away from you. I did what I had to do. I still believe it was the best insurance I could buy at the time. I’m not visiting the cemetery like the others.” Ry reached out and tried to pull her back into his arms, but she eluded him. “Margo, I know this wasn’t an easy thing to hear. I’m sorry for all the pain I caused you, but maybe now—”

  “We could have gone away. Disappeared. We could have—”

  “Run. I thought about it. But Rose was still here, Blu, too. They would have been left behind, possibly hurt, and Koch would have still won.”

  “You have an answer for everything don’t you?” She turned and headed out the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I need some air. Don’t follow.”

  He let her go. Maybe she was right, maybe she needed time to absorb everything he’d said. He heard her footsteps on the stairs, heard the back door slam. Restless, he went looking for a cigarette. He’d give her ten minutes, he decided, ten minutes and then…

  Ry tossed the unlit cigarette to the floor and bolted through the door.

  Chapter 12

  He found her in the swing between the two giant oak trees in the backyard. She was just sitting there with her knees drawn up and her head pressed against them. He didn’t wait for an invitation. He simply sat down beside her, put his arm around her and pulled her close.

  She didn’t fight him, and Ry wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He started to move the swing in a slow, even rhythm. A moment later she dropped her feet to the ground and leaned against him.

  “You know, I bought this place a year ago, just after I started going to the Toucan to see you. I remembered you telling me that when you were a kid you wanted a backyard with a swing in it. I didn’t buy this place for the house or the neighborhood. They’re nice enough, but—when I came to look at the place, I saw the swing in this quiet backyard and told the Realtor I’d take it. She wanted to show me the inside of the house, and I let her, but I wasn’t really paying attention to the size or the number of bedrooms. All I wanted was the swing and the backyard.”

  “The house is very pretty,” she said softly.

  “It’s well built,” Ry assured. “I admit the veranda interested me some because as a kid we had an old hammock on the front porch of the ranch house. My mama used to flog me out of it at the lazy age of fifteen. She must have used her broom on me at least twice a week.”

  Ry lowered his head and kissed Margo on the temple. “After work, I come here and imagine you sitting beside me. Sometimes I sleep on the veranda in the hammock and pretend you watch me from here.”

  “Please stop.” She buried her face against his chest.

  Ry lifted her chin. “No, I’m not going to stop. I’m going to keep telling you all the things that I thought about, all the things I did to keep myself sane. I couldn’t be with you in the flesh, so I kept you close in my mind. I imagined us sitting here talking, and when the talking ran out, I envisioned you asking me to make love to you in the grass.”

  “Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

  “Sure I do. Hell, the shrink confirmed it. But the fact is, it worked when the pills and the booze didn’t. I’ve replayed those dreams over and over in my mind. We’ve made love in every room inside the house, and on every inch of this backyard. Seeing you three nights a week at the Toucan, singing those pretty songs to me—”

  “To you?”

  Ry heard the mix of surprise and amusement in her voice. “Yes, to me. They were all for me. I decided that at the very beginning.” Ry lowered his head and kissed her gently. “What you have to believe, baby, is I loved you then and love you still. Hell broke loose, and we got caught in the middle of it. It was my fault. Understand, I take full responsibility for that, but now we have a chance to start over again. I want to believe Koch is dead. I should have believed it from the beginning.”

  “You make it sound so easy. It’s not.”

  Ry felt a huge lump close off his throat. Forcing himself to swallow, he said, “I want you here. Move in with me, baby.” He closed his eyes, waited for her to say something. She didn’t.

  The night air was warm, the fragrant jasmine drifting on the gentle breeze. Minutes passed. Finally she said, “Remember when you asked me if I was sleeping with Brodie. I want you to know that—”

  “He hasn’t touched you.”

  She sat up quickly, gazed at him. “How did you know?”

  Ry kept the swing moving, kept his arm on her shoulder. “I remember everything.” He smiled down at her. “I especially like those crazy little sounds you make when you first feel me inside you, the way you twist to the right just a fraction, then arch up like…” He stopped himself from going on, and asked what he already knew, or at least suspected. “You’ve never made love to anyone else but me, have you?”

  Her chin went up. “It wasn’t because no one asked, so don’t think—I had plenty of—Brodie wanted to—”

  Ry pulled her close and kissed her quiet. “You haven’t slept with anyone for the same reason I haven’t. There was no point.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Ry stopped the swing. “I’m saying I love you, Margo duFray. I have and will until the day I die. I’m saying there was no reason to bring someone else into the picture when you were all I ever wanted.”

  Her look of disbelief bothered him. “Look, I had plenty of opportunities, too. I just didn’t act on any of them.” When her bewildered look remained, Ry removed his arm from around her and stood.

  “Where are you going?”

  Ry headed for the back door. Over his shoulder, he said, “Upstairs.”

  He kept moving, kept hoping he would hear the swing creak, that she’d follow him. On the veranda he stopped and looked back; she was still sitting in the swing. He forced himself inside, the door banging behind him. He was in the hall when he heard footsteps rushing the stairs. She caught up with him just as he stepped through the bedroom doorway. A little out of breath, she sighed, “Chastity for you, Ry… Do you expect me to believe you deprived yourself of a woman’s—”

  “Touch…” He turned quickly, pulled her through the door and into the bedroom. “Yes, I do expect you to believe me. But in case you’re in doubt, tell me what I can do to convince you.” He backed her against the door and felt her tremble. He lowered his head and kissed her, kissed her until she was breathless and clinging to him.

  “Wait,” Margo sighed, then reached for the buttons on his shirt. As she peeled Ry’s shirt from his shoulders, the moonlight shining through the window danced around them. “Now me,” she entreated and sank against the closed door. Her heart was pounding as he opened her shirt and spread it wide.

  Margo watched him lower his head, knew she would be unable to hold back, and moaned the moment she felt his lips on her breast. She reached up to hold his head in place as he continued to worship her with his tongue. His hands moved over her hips, lower to her sheer white panties. Then he was on his knees, trailing kisses down her flat belly, along the elastic edge of her panties, his tongue teasing her through the sheer fabric.

  “Oh, Ry…”

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, the heat from his mouth driving her crazy, his fingers adding another element of pleasure as they worked their way up the back of her legs and into her panties to gently knead her backside.<
br />
  “I used to dream of this,” he confessed, his hands adoring her with gentle persuasion. “It made me so hard.” Margo shivered, offered a quick intake of breath. “Did you dream of me, baby?” he asked.

  Surprised by the question, Margo hesitated. When his hands stilled, she looked down and found his blue eyes assessing her, waiting for an answer. She tried to speak. When she couldn’t, she looked away.

  “Tell me I wasn’t the only one having sex with a memory. Tell me I slept with you sometimes, made love to you in your bedroom in the middle of the night. Admit when you touched yourself you pretended it was me touching you.” He got back to his feet, turned her head so he could look into her eyes.

  Margo’s cheeks grew hot. “Yes,” she finally confessed. “Yes, I dreamed of you, and, yes, you touched me in my dreams.”

  Instead of telling her how much her admission pleased him, he showed her by taking her lips with a desperate moan. Margo let him control the kiss, but when he pulled away to catch his breath, she slid her hands down his chest to fondle him through his jeans. While he groaned out his pleasure, she changed places with him and pushed him against the wall. Again she caressed him through his jeans, her fingers working the snap open, then his zipper.

  Her fingers found him hot and hard, and she possessively ran her thumb over the end of him. He groaned and held on until he couldn’t stand it any longer, then he was suddenly taking back the control and lifting her into his arms. As he carried her to the bed, he whispered, “No more pretending, no more imagining.”

  He laid her on the bed, then removed his boots and jeans. Naked, all bronzed and hard like a prized statue who deserved a private exhibition, he loomed over her. Margo marveled at the sight of his perfection.

  He quickly joined her on the bed and pulled her close. “I’ve got one more thing to tell you.”

  Margo stiffened. “Something more? Do I want to know?”

  “It’s not bad.”