The Kiss after Midnight (The Midnight Trilogy) (3 page)

Penélope held his face in her hands and planted a kiss on his lips. She pulled her head back and peered into his eyes for almost a minute. “I’d love to,” she said. She turned toward a taxi line. “I don’t know how we’re going to get there, though. You couldn’t buy a taxi out here.”

Tobias sniggered. “Oh, don’t worry, that’s already taken care of.”

“What do you mean?”

A dark blue BMW sedan pulled up directly in front of them, and one of the nightclub bouncers rushed to open the door. Penélope looked at him with wide eyes. “What do you actually do?”

Smiling, Tobias helped her into the car, subtly declining to answer her question. The traffic started to break up after a few minutes. Tobias stared at Penélope and stretched his hand toward her waist but pulled it back.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s just you. You’re so goddamn beautiful. I don’t know what to do with myself when I’m around you.”

She pulled him toward her and kissed him softly. Her lips tasted like honey, delicate and sweet. When he looked up, he noticed the driver watching them in the rear-view mirror.

***

Tobias opened the apartment door and stood aside, allowing Penélope to walk in. She walked into the living room and ran her hands across the black leather couch. She looked at Tobias and nodded before heading for the kitchen.

He walked in after her and stood by the entrance with his arms folded. She rested her hands against the table beside the stove and stared into the glowing stainless steel sink for a moment.

“This is a nice apartment,” she said. “It’s spotless.” She walked past him and back to the living room, and he followed her. “I’m guessing yours is like this, too.”

Tobias laughed and nodded. Penélope walked past the TV mounted on the wall and peered into the bathroom and then the bedroom next to it, nodding approvingly. She walked back to the living room and leaned against the wall opposite the TV.

“So what’re we gonna do now?”

Tobias stared at her intently before approaching her with purpose. He reached for her waist and pulled her toward him, kissing her fervently.

She pulled back and raised her hands. “Relax, Tobias. I’m not going anywhere. We have all night.” She kissed his bottom lip and then moved on to the top.

Tobias kept his eyes closed, taking in her sweet fragrance. Clementine, almonds and vanilla—her smell was immediately familiar and stirred his senses.

She took a few steps back and held his left hand in her right. She smiled and turned around before leading him into the bedroom.

The clock on the wall adjacent to the bed struck 2:15 a.m. and woke Tobias from a brief nap. The bedroom was huge, at over 200 square feet, as was the whole apartment. Bookshelves stood on either side of a large television set—at least fifty inches—mounted on brackets. The floors were laminated, and paintings covered the walls. The bed was probably the largest king-size bed he had ever slept in. He had always enjoyed staying at Lucas’, even if only for the comfort he felt while sleeping.

He glanced to his right upon feeling movement. Meeting his gaze were Penélope’s sensual green eyes, illuminated by the lamp on the nightstand and looking affectionately at him. He clenched her hands, hoping to stop his body from trembling. He was still incredibly turned on.

Smiling, she moved closer and hugged him. “I’ve had an amazing time with you, baby.”

Tobias kissed her forehead. “I don’t think
amazing
’s the word I’d use.” He gently kissed her lips.

“Oh, and what would you call it?”

“I don’t know, earth-shattering.”

Penélope giggled. “You do come out with everything, don’t you?”

Tobias moved closer, his face stern. “Baby, you have to believe me when I say I do really like you.” He lay on his back. “I definitely hope I get to see you again.”

“Do you really?”

He sat up. “What do you mean?”

She gently ran her fingers across his chest. “Do you really want to see me again?”

He brushed her hair aside and held her face. “Of course I do. I won’t be able to think of anything or anyone until I do.”

“You’re so cute.” She kissed him and stared into his eyes. “Now it’s your turn to tell me about yourself. Where are you from?”

“Well, I was born in Düsseldorf.”

“Düsseldorf? As in Germany?”

“Yeah, why? Does that surprise you?”

Penélope sat against the headboard. “I don’t know. I definitely thought you were American. And you haven’t got a German accent.”

“Well, I might as well be American. I came here when I was 8, right after my dad died.”

“Oh, that’s so sad. What about your mom?”

Tobias frowned and squeezed his knuckles. “Well, she did bring me over here, but she couldn’t leave her past alone.” He wiped his eyes. Penélope leaned forward and caressed his face, but he quickly turned away. “In the end, it killed her.” He sniffed and faced her again. “She died five years ago, and there was nothing I could do to save her. The doctors said it was the drugs that killed her, but we’re not born with syringes in our hands. Someone or something puts it there.” His face tightened. “Her family made her a junkie, and I’ll always remember what they did to her.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m okay. I’ve made peace with it.” He forced a smiled.

“So you’ve been here all by yourself for the last five years?”

“Yep. It’s not all bad, though. I love it here. Plus I’ve met lots of great people.”

Penélope stroked the back of his head. “Well, I’m here now. Hopefully I can be one of those people in your life.”

“So, what about you? What’s the deal with your parents?”

The very loud ring of Penélope’s cell phone, sitting on the nightstand, interrupted them. She twitched nervously, a look of worry creeping onto her face.

“Are you going to get that?” Tobias asked. He held on to her hands.

“No. I’ll let it ring. It’s probably just my brother checking up on me.”

When the ringing ended, an uncomfortable silence fell on the room. Less than five minutes had gone by before the phone rang again. Penélope continued silencing the ringer, but the caller persisted for ten more minutes.

Finally, Penélope—trembling—turned the phone off. “I’ve got to go,” she said, her face filled with distress.

“What’s going on? You seem really scared.”

“It’s nothing.” She straightened her dress and put her shoes on. “I just have to get back to my brother.”

“But why are you so scared. Is it your brother?”

“No! My brother will never hurt me.”

“Then why do you look so worried?”

“Can you call me a cab, please?” She rushed to leave the room, but Tobias stopped her.

“No. Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Please call me a cab or I’ll just get one outside.”

“What’s happened?” Tobias raised his hands. “We were having such a great night.”

“I promise I’ll call you once I get back.”

“Okay, just hold up. I’ll call you a cab.” He picked up his cell and ordered a taxi.

As Penélope opened the door to the apartment building, Tobias held on to her hand, reluctant to let go. She kissed him briefly and rushed into the waiting cab, which was promptly driven off. Tobias stepped out onto the pavement and waited until the taxi was out of sight. He glanced at his watch. It was nearly twenty minutes to 3.

He shut the door and stood still for almost a minute, haunted by the fear he’d seen on Penélope’s face.
Why did I just let her go?
He walked to the coffee table and picked up his cell. He scrolled down to her number and dialed it. After four rings, it went to voice mail. His returned to his room and put on a pair of shoes
. I can’t just leave it like that. Shit, why the fuck did I let her go?

He rushed to the door and grabbed the handle before wincing and placing both hands on his head. He was overreacting. He must have been. It was probably nothing. He would just wait and call her in the morning to make sure that everything was all right. He took off his clothes and went back to bed.

Annabel Lopez hated waking up early on Saturday mornings. It was her only true day off, and she tried her utmost to remain asleep until late morning or midday. But her continuously ringing cell phone was making that difficult today, and she finally turned the ringer off.

She opened her eyes ten minutes later, though, her vision still somewhat blurry. The clock said 10 a.m., and she frowned as she forced her eyes closed, attempting to return to sleep. After almost an hour of trying, she sat up angrily and mussed her hair.

Her caller ID showed that she’d gotten calls only from withheld numbers. She moaned and pounded the bed before getting up. She turned the TV on and left the room. She walked across the mahogany floor of the living room and into the bathroom beside the front door. Halfway through brushing her teeth, she paused, thinking she’d heard the faint ringing of her cell. A second later, she confirmed that it was indeed ringing and dashed back into her room. She placed it against her ear, panting.

“Miss Lopez?” said a voice at the other end.

“Yes.”

“I’m Detective Jack Monroe of the NYPD. I’m trying to find a next of kin for a Miss Penélope Salazar, and I see that she’s listed you on her passport as that.”

Annabel bit her bottom lip.

“Miss Lopez?”

“What ... what’s this all about? Why do you want to find her next of kin? Has anything happened to Penny?”

The man didn’t speak for a few seconds. Annabel heard his heavy breathing before he finally said, “Can I please inquire of your association with Miss Salazar? Are you related in any way?”

“I’m her friend.” Annabel’s voice trembled. “We’re more like sisters actually, so if anything’s happened to her, I need to know.”

“Very well. I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“What is it?” Annabel blurted.

“The NYPD discovered a body this morning—”

Annabel screamed and dropped the phone to the floor, breathing heavily as she held back tears. She put the phone back to her ear.

“Miss Lopez, are you there?”

“What happened? Where did you find her?”

“At Pelham Bay Park, ma’am. Her face was badly mutilated, practically unrecognizable, in fact. We’ve had to use her ID to identify her for now. We’re waiting on dental records and fingerprints, too, but we need someone to formally identify her. I was hoping you could do that for us.”

She put the phone down. “That fucking bastard,” she muttered under her breath. “That fucking ... She held her hands to her chest and took several deep breaths before placing the phone back to her ear. “What do I have to do?”

“I would greatly appreciate it if you could come down to the station. I’m happy to send a car to get you if you would prefer.”

“No, that’s fine,” she said. “Which one?”

“The Ninth Precinct, ma’am.”

Annabel wrote down the address and hung up. She stood trembling in the same spot for nearly five minutes before screaming. She picked up her perfume and threw it against the window before throwing everything on her side table to the floor, smashing a few more bottles of fragrance. The tears flowed continuously, her hands planted on top of her head. She slumped to the floor, wailing and smashing her hands against the hard mahogany.

***

As she traveled to the police station, she hoped her sunglasses would prevent the taxi driver from noticing her bloodshot eyes or asking questions. Numerous ideas about what might have happened to Penélope ran through her head. There was no doubt in her mind—if it was Penelope’s body the police found—who the killer was.

She pushed the “dial” button for the twelfth time since hearing the news. She was diverted to Penélope’s voice mail once more. “Fuck,” she screamed.

The taxi driver turned his head. “Everything all right, ma’am?”

Annabel scowled at him. He was a burly man with bright red hair and freckles. “Mind your fucking business and drive, mister.” She fixed her gaze on the crowded sidewalks.

Twenty minutes later, the cab came to a stop. Annabel’s watch said 1 p.m. She flung a hundred-dollar bill at the driver and held the door handle.

“You got anything smaller?” he asked.

Annabel rummaged through her purse, grunting in frustration. “Just give me whatever change you’ve got.”

The driver sighed and handed her two twenty-dollar bills. Annabel got out and walked toward the police station, her hands shaking uncontrollably. A number of male passersby smiled at her, along with some police officers. She frowned at most of them, close to hurling insults. She didn’t feel especially attractive in her dark skinny jeans, flat shoes and plain white shirt. She assumed they were staring at her double-D breasts.

She reached the entrance and looked through the glass doors. She hastily turned around upon seeing a large policeman leading a woman away in handcuffs, presumably to the cells. She wondered why she was so anxious. After all, she had not done anything wrong. She pulled a cigarette from its packet, her mind still racing, before shoving it back in. Just then a voice startled her.

“Can I help you?” the person repeated.

She glanced to her right to see a slim man in a black suit holding a briefcase. She straightened. “I need to see a Detective Jack Monroe.”

The man pushed the door open. “No problem at all. Please take a seat. I’ll get him for you.” He walked past a line of people toward a set of large doors at the end of the room. Annabel suddenly felt all eyes on her, searching, questioning eyes boring through her. She walked to the seats in the waiting area and sat between a slim blond woman and an elderly man.

A short, slightly chubby man with thinning brown hair entered through the back doors five minutes later, holding a thick folder in his hand. He nodded at the woman at the front reception desk as he approached Annabel. “Annabel Lopez?”

Annabel stood and nodded.

The man held out his hand. “I’m Detective Monroe.” Annabel shook his hand. “Please, my car’s just in the lot. I thought we’d get the identification out of the way first.” He gestured toward the entrance and stood aside. Annabel put her handbag over her shoulder and walked toward the door, the detective close behind her.