Prey of Desire (6 page)

6

Element
of Surprise

Tuesday,
January 11, 2000 

10:32 AM

With no
classes till early afternoon, Kim slept late the next morning. She was finally
woken when Mallory, standing on her front porch, rang the doorbell. Calming
Zeus, she opened the door and let her neighbor inside.

“You
promised me lunch,” Mallory said, pushing past Kim and entering the living
room.

“I don't
think so,” Kim closed and tied her robe. The poetry book still sat on the old
recliner next to the scrapbook. The invitation to
Greico's
lay beside the phone.

“Yes, you
did.” Mallory twirled around, facing her. Zeus whined, vying for her attention,
and she pet him on top his head. She glanced at Kim. “You know, for skipping
out on Addison's birthday celebration last night.”

Kim shut
the front door. “You mean at
Greico's
Italian
Restaurant.”

“Of course.
He
turned fifty.” Mallory laughed, flipping her red hair. Zeus cocked his head,
watching her. “Now get dressed.
Gunz
is treating us.”

“The baseball player?”
Kim looked confused. “He's still in town?”

“For a whole week.”
Mallory explained as if the answer was obvious. She turned and made her way up
the spiral staircase to the bedroom loft. Zeus followed her. “His team is
playing in some kind of game for sick children. I think they have cancer or
something.”

“But what about Addison?”
Kim ran upstairs after her.

“Oh, he's
fine. He doesn't have any kids.”

“Your
date,” Kim clarified. “How was your date?”

“Fine.
I mean,
the movie was good.” Mallory opened the closet doors and ran a hand along the
line of clothes. She scrutinized all the navy and tan skirts, blouses and
slacks crammed into the four-by-two cubby the landlord jokingly referred to as
a closet. “Maybe not as good as the one with Julia Roberts and Richard
Gere
... Have you seen the one where she runs out of her own
wedding wearing that white gown and riding a horse?”

“Wait.”
Kim started, but hesitated. She watched Mallory select a blouse and flip it off
the hanger.

Shaking
her head, Kim's mind raced, focused on the Pablo Neruda poetry book and the
invitation to
Greico's
Italian Restaurant. For a
moment, she considered telling Mallory about them. Instead, she reached for the
blouse in Mallory's hands, and said simply, “Okay, but I have classes this
afternoon.”

Forty-five
minutes later, the girls parked down town, a block away from a corner diner
called The Fork and Spoon. Mallory hadn't stopped talking about the baseball
player since leaving the townhome community.
 
She prattled on about his accomplish-
ments
,
his RBI average, his wins, his all-star selection.

“And did
I tell you he has nineteen inch arms?” Mallory placed a dime in the parking
meter. “How
do I
know, you ask.
Because
I measured them.”

Finally,
as she led Kim down the block toward the diner, she mentioned Dr. Alec Whitman.

“Now,
don't be mad.” Mallory said. She placed a hand on Kim's shoulder, as if to calm
her. “I told you the doctor wanted to apologize personally for standing you up.”

“You
didn't.” Kim hesitated before stepping through the swinging door. She realized
she had just been ambushed. “And I told you, he's not a doctor.”

When they
passed the front counter, Mallory shrieked in surprise and dropped her purse.
Kim abruptly stepped back,
then
turned her head toward
the booth in the back. Addison Gaynor was standing there, holding up his arm
and motioning to his watch.

“Addison,”
Kim said. She picked up Mallory's purse from the floor.

“Time is
of the essence, ladies.” He stepped aside allowing Kim to slip into the booth.
Mallory remained standing, looking at Addison, then back at the diner entrance,
then at Addison again.

“
Wha
---” Mallory stammered. She could barely speak. “
Wha
--”

“What am
I doing here?” he asked for her. “Mallory, my dear, what's gotten into you? You
can barely speak.”

Kim
glanced at him then back at Mallory, who was turning pale.

“Are you
ill?” he continued. “You don't look well.”

Mallory
looked at the front door then toward the street.
Gunz
would be here any second. She looked back at Addison. “What?”

Fed up,
Kim pushed Mallory aside and extended a hand to Addison. “It's good to see you,
Addison.
Happy fiftieth birthday.”

When the
waitress arrived, Kim ordered two salads with diet sodas as Addison shifted his
bifocals to the edge of his nose and studied the menu. He craned his neck and
squinted
his eyes before finally deciding on a fish taco,
then changed his mind and splurged on a hamburger with cheese and bacon.
Cholesterol
be
damned.
He laughed as he set his laptop
computer on the table and unfolded it open. It hummed as it booted up, and he
scratched the graying beard on his chin as he waited.

Mallory
watched this,
then
took a deep breath, as if to
collect her composure again.

“So,
Pudd'n
Toes, tell me. Just what are you doing here?
Now?
Just what are you doing here now?” Mallory's eyes were
glued to the windows, watching the street.

Addison's
eyes lifted from his laptop. “Why I'm having lunch, of course. And I almost
didn't make it. It seems I misplaced my wallet this morning, but fortunately,
some chap found it and deposited it in the building's lost and found.”

“What are
you doing 
here
 though?” Mallory asked again, urgency rising in
her voice. In any second,
Gunz
would walk through
that door and be at this table.

“Dr.
Whitman said that he planned to meet you girls for lunch,” he explained.

Kim shook
her head,
then
shot Mallory one of her patented killer
glares. Addison continued.

“Regrettably
however he received, yet again, an urgent phone call from a troubled patient
and asked that I inform you that he would be unable to accompany us.” Addison
grinned.
Did he know what Mallory was up to?

The
thought flashed through Kim's head, and she clarified, “Another troubled
patient.”

“Fortunately
for us all, I encountered the good doctor,” he offered. “Our agencies occupy
and operate in the same building, you see.”

“He could
have called,” Mallory said.

“He left
a message on your answering machine.” His eyes returned to the laptop screen as
his voice lowered to a soft mutter. He seemed to be done with the conversation.
“I'm sure he assumed you…”

Mallory
cut him off. “Then
you
could have called.”

“You
don't have a mobile phone.” He sounded exasperated. The food arrived, and he
spread out a napkin and placed it in his lap. “So it wouldn't have done any
good for me to leave you a message as well, would it?”

Mallory
muttered incoherently, turning to Kim then back to Addison then back to Kim.
Addison continued.

“Dr.
Whitman's patient was apparently upset about the Congressman's murder.” His
eyes enlarged and focused on Mallory, but she clearly wasn't listening. He
cleared his throat,
then
turned to Kim. “Have you read
the papers? The whole town is in an uproar.”

“I know,
it was just horrible,” Kim said. She took a nervous bite of salad.
“Just horrible.”

“It’s
scandalous, is what it is.
Just scandalous.”
Addison
leaned across the table, as if to speak privately to Kim. “He was murdered,
just like his brother twenty-five years ago.”

“What?”
Kim put down her fork.

“The
Congressman's brother was murdered twenty-five years ago,” Addison explained. “He
was a senior in high school and on a date with a freshman girl. She
disappeared, but the boy was found dead.”

“Oh,
Pudd’n
Toes, that’s an urban legend.” Mallory sat back. “Like
the Hook Man or the Skunk Ape.”

“I
thought that high school boy was attacked by a gator.” Kim’s voice held a rasp
of excitement. Shifting in the booth, she folded her arms across her chest and
turned her head, returning her gaze out the window. Her mouth fell open when
she saw him, Antonio 'The
Gunz
’ Gonzales, standing on
the other side of the street, waiting to cross. She kicked Mallory's shin under
the table, getting her attention.

Pointing
out the window, she mouthed “The
Gunz
” Mallory
crinkled her nose, staring puzzled at her. Then her red head turned to the
window and she choked on her salad.

“
Pudd'n
Toes,” she said, looking up at Addison. “Let's go
somewhere else to eat.”

Addison
forced an uncomfortably chuckle from his throat that signaled he neither
appreciated nor agreed with her suggestion. “Mal, dear, the food just arrived.
What's the matter with you?”

“We
should really go somewhere healthier to eat.” Urgency rose in Mallory's voice.
“The food here is really greasy and considering your age now and your high
cholesterol...”

He
ignored her. Kim interrupted.

“How are
the murders connected? Do they know who did it?” she asked him, purposely
delaying any chance for a clean getaway. Kim watched Mallory squirm,
then
noticed the traffic light had changed outside the
window.
Gunz
was crossing the street.

“Addison,”
Mallory said quickly. Smoke was practically coming out of her ears as her brain
scrambled to find a solution. “Is that your car alarm?”

Addison
paused, concentrating. “I don't hear anything. Surely you must be mistaken. I
parked over a block away.”

“Your car
alarm is very distinctive. I'm positive I hear it. What do you think, Kim?”
Mallory continued.

Kim was
focused on the window.
Gunz
had crossed the street
and was approaching the diner. Mallory slammed her drink on the table,
splashing diet soda and getting Kim's attention. “Kimberly Bradford, do you
hear Addison's car alarm?”

Kim wiped
diet soda from her sleeve. “The alarm?” she said quietly at first,
then
suddenly understood. “Yes! Yes, I think I do hear your
car alarm. It's very distinctive!”

Addison leapt
up from the table.

“Not my
BMW.” His voice echoed through the diner and the people in the booths across
from them stopped talking and looked up.

Mallory
leaned forward. “Go check on it, right now before some teenage hoodlums run off
with your hubcaps!”

Addison
nodded at her then sprinted toward the entrance, leaving his laptop on the
table. As he made his way out, he passed
Gunz
Gonzales and ran into the street. Cars honked as he ran down the block.

A moment
later,
Gunz
entered the diner and found Kim and
Mallory sitting at a booth.

“
Chica
,” he said, taking Mallory's hand and kissing it.
“Pleasure to see me again.”

“Yes,”
Mallory said, pulling her hand away. “It's always a pleasure to see me too.”

“Sorry so late.”
He
leaned toward her for a kiss. “Press for the charity exhibition game went long
this morning.”

Mallory
pointed a finger at him. “Well you're a naughty, naughty boy, mister. And I'm
afraid you've missed lunch. Kim and I were just leaving.”

Mallory
grabbed her purse and shifted out the booth. She looked at Kim, waiting for her
to follow.
Gunz
looked at Kim, then down at her
untouched salad. Kim smiled apologetically, then scooted out the booth and
stood next to Mallory.

“When we
see again?” he asked as Mallory threw a five-dollar bill down on the table and
bolted toward the door.

“Swing by
my place tonight,” she said, turning back to him and grinning devilishly.
“Naughty, naughty boy.
You're
gonna
get a
spanky
!”

Gunz
grinned and his ears
turned red. He placed his hands in his pockets,
then
looked back at the table. The fiver had landed on the laptop. He started to
call after the girls, but they were gone. A waitress moved to the table,
picking up the five-dollar bill and stuffed it into the money pouch around her
waist. Then she noticed the computer.