Immoral (43 page)

“That girl wasn’t ashamed. You can’t be as good as she was and be ashamed. I think we were all just nonpeople to her. Didn’t exist at all. Hell, when I talked to her about my idea, she barely let me finish before slamming the door on me.”

“What idea?”

Lavender poked him. “A Web site. Online sex shows. Christi would have been perfect, and it would have made her a lot of money. But she said there was no way she was going to be seen on the Internet. That was funny, because guys could see all they wanted live and in person every night. That didn’t matter, though.”

“She say why?”

“No, just that she wasn’t interested. Period.”

“Uh-huh. Look, Lav, I’ve got to find this boyfriend. This Christi, she’s a puzzle, see? There’s nothing personal in her apartment. The way you describe her, she barely had a life. This boyfriend is the only clue we’ve got.”

Lavender shrugged. “I’ve told you everything I remember, baby. I don’t see how you’re going to find him. I mean, you could talk to the other girls who were there. A few of them might still be in town. They might remember something.”

Cordy nodded, knowing it was a long shot. “Okay, I’ll have you write down their names.”

“And maybe some of the other people at the club saw him. Bouncers, bartenders, waitresses. I left the club not too long after that, so he might have come back when I wasn’t there.”

“Yeah, that’s a start I’ll run ‘em all down tomorrow.”

“Sorry, baby,” Lavender said. “You look disappointed.”

“I am. This could have been a big break, but I’m afraid it looks more like a dead end.”

Lavender smirked. “I know how to make it up to you.”

She slid her tongue out between her lips and reached for his zipper. Effortlessly, she pulled it down. “You want some head, baby?”

Cordy was immediately hard. “Oh, yeah.”

Her fingers skillfully reached inside.

“Mmm, dessert,” she whispered.

Lavender’s upper body sank forward, and her hair tumbled over his lap. Cordy closed his eyes, waiting for the delicious warmth of her mouth closing over him. It never came. With a start, Lavender straightened up, and Cordy opened his eyes, enormously disappointed.

“What’s wrong, mama?” he pleaded.

She stared at him with bright eyes. “I may, I just may, have a picture of him.”

“Who?”

“The mystery man. The boyfriend.”

Cordy felt his erection wither, but his mind was excited. “A picture? Get out of here.”

“Yeah, yeah. We were clowning around with my Polaroid that night, making faces, shooting our tits and asses. I remember because Christi wouldn’t let me take her picture. Kept turning her back. But it’s possible creepy-face ended up in the background of one of the shots.”

“You still have the pictures?” Cordy asked.

“I think so. In my apartment. I have a drawer where I dump all of them.”

Cordy turned the key in the ignition, and the engine of the Cruiser fired into action. He clutched the wheel with tight fists. “Where’s your apartment?” he asked.

Lavender told him, and before she was even finished, Cordy rocketed the car toward the ramp that led out of the parking lot. The tires squealed, and the rear of the car threatened to fishtail.

“Don’t speed,” Lavender said, grinning.

“Why not?”

Laughing, Lavender pointed between his legs, where Cordy’s penis still dangled out of his pants. “Well, if another cop pulls you over, how are you going to explain that?”

Stride still didn’t want to go home.

When he came to the intersection that led back to Serena’s motel, he turned toward the lake instead, following by habit a route that had long ago become ingrained in his head, even though he hadn’t driven it in a long time. He didn’t ask himself where he was going. He just knew, because his heart pulled him there.

“Let’s go down to the water,” he suggested to Serena.

“Fine by me.”

He guided them through Canal Park and across the bridge to the Point. There were no ships to delay them tonight. The steel buzzed under his tires, and a few seconds later, he was back where he had once felt more at home than anywhere else. Even at night, he could see the passage of time by the glow of the streetlights. Some trees were larger, and some were gone. New homes had been put up and others torn down. He had stopped coming here, but life had gone on without him.

He slowed as he drove past his old house. Glancing in the mirror, seeing no one behind them, he stopped in the street and rolled down his window.

“That was our place,” he told her. “Me and Cindy.”

“I’d love a place like that” Serena said.

The house looked good. The new owners had gone with yellow paint this season, which brightened it up considerably, and they obviously had a green thumb, judging from the flower gardens decorating the lawn. The grass and bushes were neatly trimmed. The driveway was paved now. They had put in a swing set for their kids.

All the lights were off. They were gone, or asleep, or lying in bed listening to the waves, as he and Cindy used to do.

Stride continued through the rest of the Point, which was dark and deserted. He followed the road all the way to the park at the very end and got out of the truck. Serena joined him. They held hands as they followed a sandy trail through the trees to the lake. When they emerged, the sky opened up, drowning them in stars, and the water loomed ahead, loud and black. The soft wind teased the trees behind them. Waves tumbled in, whooshing onto the shore. The strip of beach was lonely and dark as far as they could see.

He saw Serena smile with delight. She tugged on his hand, pulling him toward the water. They went to the edge of the wet sand where the incoming waves glided almost to their feet. Every few seconds, they had to dance back to stay dry.

Serena spun in a circle, soaking up the sights around her. She pointed at the thin line of houses stretching toward the city.

“You lived here?” she asked “Why move?”

“Andrea didn’t like it,” he explained. “Plus, there were too many memories.”

“Does it hurt being here now?”

He shook his head. “Not at all.”

Serena retreated from the water and looked for a flat stretch of sand. “Sit with me for a while, Jonny.”

He leaned down and scooped a handful between his fingers. “The sand’s still damp from the storm.”

“That’s all right”

He saw it in her eyes. A leap of faith for her. An act of trust. For him, there was no turning back, and he knew only that he didn’t want to stop it, not for anything.

Serena kicked off her shoes. She unbuttoned her jeans, slipped them down her slim, long legs, and stepped out of them. She stretched her arms up to the sky, revealing a stretch of bare stomach and, below, white bikini panties. With both hands, she peeled up the bulky sweater of Stride’s that she was wearing and the navy T-shirt beneath it. Her breasts strained at the fabric of her bra. She knelt in the sand and held her hand out to him.

“You’ll freeze,” he told her.

“Keep me warm.”

He took off his own shoes. He left his shirt on but removed his pants and tossed them aside. He sat down next to her, their legs touching, and the sand beneath him didn’t feel cold at all. Her arms came around him, her hands digging under his shirt, clutching his back, pressing into his skin. They kissed hungrily. Their bodies sank until they were prone in the sand.

He kissed her neck and slid a bra strap off her shoulder, pulling it down until her breast spilled into his hand. His mouth covered her nipple, sucking on it. He heard a soft rumble of pleasure in her throat. He exposed her other breast and kissed it. Her fingers found the slit in his boxers and slipped inside to stroke his erection with her nails. She pulled aside the flap of fabric, and he felt cool air as his penis slid out.

“Quickly,” she whispered.

He reached for her panties and pushed his thumbs inside. She rose up from the beach, and he slid them off and tossed them away. Her hands grabbed for him and pulled him over her. He licked her breasts, but she took his face in her palms and brought him up to kiss her. He kissed her lips. Her cheeks. Her eyes.

Her legs spread and wrapped around him. He felt his penis brushing against her mound and sinking lower.

“We’re not—” he murmured.
Not safe. Not protected
.

“Yes, we are,” she told him, and there was a sadness in her voice, and he wondered if he had killed the moment.

But his penis found its way inside her in the next second, and she was wet and waiting. He gasped with pleasure. She did, too, and her legs held him tightly, and her fingers rippled against his neck. He began to thrust inside her, so deep they could have been one person. The stars watched them. The waves roared in his ears.

She watched him make love to her with her eyes wide open. He had never felt more naked, or connected, than having her see him like that. She kept them open until, finally, her head tilted back, and a smile and a cry escaped from her mouth at the same moment, and her body quivered in his hands. And he closed his own eyes and let himself go.

She had put her T-shirt back on, but she was nude below, and he stroked her legs and her mound gently as they lay on the beach. Sand streaked her skin. She was propped on both elbows, watching the sky.

“Feel guilty?” she asked.

“I should, but I don’t.”

“Good.”

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

He watched her lips draw into a tighter line. She already knew the question. “The abortion,” she explained. “I waited too long. It didn’t go well. I can’t have kids.”

“Does that bother you?” he asked, thinking of Andrea.

“You go through phases. At that age, with what I’d been through, I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want kids. Then mere was a point in my twenties where I felt very sorry for myself, and I cried a lot, and I drank a lot I almost drank my way off the force. Like mother, like daughter, you know? Addictive personalities. But I found a good shrink, and she helped me through it. Today, it comes and goes. But I haven’t lived my life like I missed something by not having kids.”

“Same here,” he said.

“Tell me something,” Serena said. “I know this sounds weird. Was I good?”

“What?”

“Making love. Was I good? In the past, it wasn’t like this, and I knew it was because of me. All my baggage. It got in the way.”

“You don’t really need me to answer that, do you?” Stride asked.

She smiled, laughing at herself, but she looked relieved. “No, I guess not.”

His caresses on her upper thighs became more directed, and he let his hand slip between her legs. Her hips thrust against his fingers. “Make me come again,” she told him.

But he had hardly begun when muffled electronic music began playing in Serena’s discarded jeans. She groaned, and they both laughed. Stride found her cell phone in a rear pocket and handed it to her.

“This is Serena.” Then, a moment later, “Cordy, your timing sucks.”

He heard a voice on the phone talking at a rapid clip.

“Slow down, Cordy,” Serena said. “What the hell are you saying?”

Although he couldn’t make out the words, he saw Serena’s eyes, as she listened, light up with intense interest.

“Are you
sure
it’s him?” Serena said into the phone. “If you’re wrong, we’re going to look like fools.”

Stride heard the pitch of her partner’s voice rise. Cordy was sure.

“I’ll be damned,” Serena said. “All right, get someone to watch the place, but don’t roust him. See what he does. I’ll fly back tomorrow.”

Stride felt his breath leave his chest, leaving only a tight ache behind.

“Good work, Cordy,” Serena said. “I’m sure you and Lavender will find a way to celebrate.”

Serena flipped down the phone.

“We may have been searching in the wrong city after all,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“It turns out that Christi—Rachel—had a boyfriend. Cordy found a photograph from the club where she worked. The guy was in the background. He recognized him.”

“How?”

“We know the guy,” Serena explained. “Except now he looks more like Howard Hughes. It’s the same old drunk desert rat who owns the trailer where Christi’s body was found. And that sure puts a new spin on the ball.”

“He kills her and simply dumps the body behind his own place?” Stride asked.

“This guy doesn’t exactly have all his cereal in one bowl, at least when he’s been drinking. If he was dating Christi, and she dumped him, it could have sent him over the edge.”

“So he goes to her apartment to try to convince her to take him back,” Stride speculated. “She tells him to take a hike, and he drops a vase on her head. He brings the body home, dumps it, and then ties one on.”

“It’s possible,” Serena said.

Stride shook his head. “But what about the ATM receipt? The connection to Duluth?”

“Maybe I was wrong,” Serena said, trying to put the pieces together. “Maybe Duluth is a red herring.”

“You weren’t wrong,” Stride insisted. “There’s something else going on.”

Serena leaned over and kissed him with cool lips. “Come with me.”

“What?”

“You were in at the beginning, Jonny. You deserve to be there when it all ends. Even if it turns out this guy didn’t kill her, he must know something. Let’s go see him together.”

Stride got up out of the sand and began gathering their clothes. “All right,” he said. “But there’s something I have to do first.”

She knew. “Talk to your wife?”

He nodded.

“I feel responsible,” Serena said.

“You’re not I am.”

He didn’t dread the idea of divorce the way he had for so long. Andrea had already opened the door. Now he would walkthrough.

“We may find the answer tomorrow,” Serena said.

Stride wasn’t so sure. He knew there was a mystery in Las Vegas, but he didn’t believe for a minute he would find the truth there. The truth would still be here in Duluth. Waiting for him to come back and find it.