The Reunion (21 page)

37

Dunlevy hung up the phone and returned to the courtyard. When he turned his chaise lounge to face the big house on the hill he noticed two lights burning on the second floor. Sleep was now out of the question. He could get a court order to have a blood sample taken from the cat, but if it didn't match he truly would be an asshole. Harris would certainly use the results as further proof of how far his career had slipped. He could take a blood sample on his own, but without the warrant it would be inadmissible as evidence. Still, at least he would know he was on the right track.

The agent had just pressed the tip of another cigar to his lips when he felt fingertips gently press into his shoulders. He abruptly jumped up from his reclined position.

“You couldn't sleep either?” Carolyn asked.

He immediately relaxed at the sound of her voice and eased back into the lounge. But his heart was still pounding. He placed both hands over his heart in mock illness. “Jesus, woman! Never sneak up on a middle-aged, overweight FBI agent with a gun.” The moon afforded him enough light to see her warm smile. She continued to knead his shoulders. It felt heavenly.

“You're all knots. You need to learn to relax.”

He slowly rolled his head in a circular motion. “Mmm…that feels
real
good,” he moaned.

Carolyn looked over her shoulder at the blinking lights in the harbor. “It's pretty out here.”

“A wonderful view.”

“Then why are you facing the other way?”

He pointed up to the Vocatura mansion. “I'm looking for inspiration. How 'bout you? What are you doing up?”

She stopped the massage and flopped into the lounge next to him. “It was getting stuffy in that room, and I took a nap with Kenny this afternoon. Since I hooked up with you all I do is eat and sleep.”

He lit another cigar. “I'm thinking about going on a late-night hunt for kitty cats.”

She gave him a quizzical look.

“The windbreaker we found in DeMichael's car is loaded with white cat hair. Old lady Vocatura said he hadn't been to her house in years. I think he has. When I interviewed her she had a big white tomcat on her lap. I need physical evidence to put him at the house.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Is that legal?”

He laughed out loud. “I'm not going to kill the cat. I just need a little sample of its blood.”

“Don't you need a court order of some kind?”

He shook his head and smiled. “If I were going to use it as evidence in a court of law, but not if I'm just taking a late night walk and I accidentally stumble upon him catting around outside.”

She scoffed. “What are the odds of that?”

He shrugged his shoulders and took another long drag from the cigar. “Slim to none. Look at it as an evening stroll. Wanna come?”

She thought about it a second. “I should stay. Kenny's asleep in the crib. I could hear him cry out here, but I can't leave.”

Dunlevy thought about this a moment. “Look, Franklin's asleep in my room. Since our rooms connect, we'll deadbolt your door, go out my door, and we'll leave the connecting door open. If Kenny wakes up, Franklin will hear him. We can leave a note.”

She shook her head. “I can't.”

“Does Kenny usually sleep through the night?”

“Yeah.”

“Then what's the problem?”

“Okay.” She jumped up out of the lounge. “And I might have something in Kenny's goodie bag that'll help. I'll meet you by the car.”

Dunlevy went to his trunk to retrieve a syringe from his forensic kit. Carolyn went to her room and returned a few minutes later with a can of Bumble Bee chunk light tuna. She held up the can and flashed him a big grin. “Kitty-cat bait.”

Dunlevy climbed the six-foot stone wall first and then reached down to pull her up. Once they were on the Vocatura estate, they hit a second obstacle: an expansive row of tall wax myrtles lining the back edge of the property. They crouched together in the mulch, hidden by the long leafy branches of the big shrubs.

Shadows of erratic size and shape seemed to bounce from every wall in what appeared to be a small room at the farthest corner of the house. A television must have been on, but there was no indication that anyone was there to watch it. If the Voctura boys were truly worried about their grandmother's security, they obviously hadn't shared their concerns with the old woman or her household staff. The French doors were wide open, covered only by a flimsy screen. Dunlevy scanned the back of house. It looked like all of the bedroom windows upstairs were also wide open. The grounds were vast and they were still too far away from the lanai to see if their quarry was even outside tonight.

“I feel like a high school kid out way past my curfew,” he whispered, suppressing a laugh.

She smiled and placed her lips to his ear. “Maybe it's an inside cat.”

“I don't think so. That cat looked like a heavy shedder, and she seems too fussy for that.” It was only a hunch, but he suspected she'd want him kept outside.

“Follow me,” he ordered.

Dunlevy crept along the mulch bed on all fours; Carolyn was right behind him. He stopped at the corner of the house, where the Bermuda grass met the edge of the stone patio. They were now less than ten feet from the back door. He looked up and scanned the lawn furniture for the animal. No luck. Disgusted, he now started to question the sanity of this plan. Good thing Franklin wasn't around; he'd be busting his balls over this one for months. Since they were there, he opted for one last trick. Dunlevy turned to Carolyn and raised his index finger to his lips. He then mouthed the words, “Give me the can.”

She handed it to him. The agent pulled the tab, wincing at the noise it made as the vacuum seal was broken. He motioned for her to stay put as he crawled up onto the patio and placed the can near the back door. The gentle ocean breeze carried the odor of the pungent fish. If there was a cat around, he'd show himself soon. Either way, Dunlevy had made up his mind that this experiment was over in five minutes.

Not three minutes later, there was movement at the far end of the yard. At first Dunlevy wasn't even sure if it was the right cat. This one had a cocky, tomcat bounce. His nostrils twitched as he searched out the source of the odor. He seemed more alert than Dunlevy remembered, almost frisky. The cat went straight for the tuna can, paying little attention to the two people stooped on all fours nearby.

Dunlevy slowly moved toward the cat, hesitantly running a hand down the center of his thick, furry coat. It didn't flinch. After a few seconds of petting, with his face still buried in the can, the cat cocked his head in Dunlevy's direction, a reminder that his ears had yet to be scratched.

He hoisted the big tom into his arms and was amazed at how heavy he was, maybe as much as twenty pounds. He pointed toward the bushes where they first made their entrance. The couple sat down in the damp mulch, now a safe distance from the mansion. The cat snuggled in Dunlevy's lap and purred at his touch. Carolyn also stroked the top of his head.

Dunlevy pulled the the syringe from his breast pocket, lifted the point to his mouth, and bit off the plastic needle protector with his teeth, spitting it to the ground. He grabbed the animal by the scruff of the neck, pushing him down hard on its side to keep him from turning his head to bite. The cat's eyes grew wide and his muscles tensed, but he made no attempt to scratch or bite.

He handed her the syringe. “Here, you do it.”

She tensed. “Why me?” she whispered.

Just then, a light came on in one of the second-story rooms of the Vocatura mansion. Their eyes both darted upward, fearing their presence had been noticed.

Dunlevy's tone became insistent. “You're the nurse. Do it!” he demanded.

Carolyn took the needle. She ran her fingers along the cat's underbelly, down to what she thought felt like the femoral vein on the inside of its left hind leg. “Sorry, kitty,” she whispered as the needle penetrated the skin.

When the blood had been drawn, Dunlevy pushed the cat from his lap and grabbed Carolyn's arm, dragging her further into the bushes.

“Let's go. Now!” He took her hand and led her through the thicket and to the stone fence where they had first snuck onto the grounds.

They were both out of breath when they reached the door of her hotel room. Panting, she fished the key from the pocket of her jeans, unlocked the door, and entered the pitch-black room. Dunlevy followed without a word.

Carolyn checked the crib and found Kenny sleeping soundly. As she turned she bumped her nose on Dunlevy's chest. “God! My heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest!” she said softly with whatever breath she could collect.

Dunlevy reached out to her in the dark, placing the flat of his palm squarely between her breasts. With his other hand, he cupped her slender fingers and pulled her toward him, placing her hand over his heart. “Feel that,” he said. “Nobody has made it do that in a very long time, Carolyn.”

She raised up on her toes to kiss him. As she did, his strong arms enveloped her in a protective cocoon. For a long time, they simply stood there, in the dark, seductively swaying their hips against one another in a quiet, breathless dance.

Carolyn guided him toward the corner of the bed, kissing him hard as he toppled backward. As she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, he hesitantly pulled away. “It's been a long time,” he whispered almost apologetically. The small of her bare back felt so taut, and he was a middle-aged man. He wondered how a young, beautiful woman could ever find him attractive. Carolyn quieted his fear with a long, deep kiss. His sincerity brought a mist to her eyes. She had never wanted a man so much.

They methodically disrobed each other, kissing and murmuring tender sentiments as they slid under the sheet.

As they cuddled nose to nose, Carolyn eased a leg over his hip and reached down to guide him to her. Their coupling was gentle, yet deliberate, and repeated twice more before the sunrise.

38

Dunlevy opened his eyes. A little daylight peeked in through the blinds, just enough to see Kenny standing at the rail of his crib in silence, staring directly back at him and smiling.

He smiled back at the boy as he blindly groped the floor by the bed for his boxers. With underwear in hand, he fumbled to put them on without waking Carolyn. He stood and approached the crib. Kenny immediately raised his arms, the international baby sign for “pick me up.”

Dunlevy let out a muffled chuckle. “Okay, but we're gonna let mommy sleep a little longer,” he whispered. “All right with you, buddy?”

Still smiling, the child excitedly slapped the rail of the crib. Dunlevy winced at the noise, then lifted the little boy from his crib and pulled him tightly to his chest. He hurriedly dressed him in the bathroom, careful not to wake Carolyn. Dunlevy kissed her forehead and then quickly scribbled a note that he left on the nightstand.

***

The new friends explored Watch Hill together. After pancakes and syrup at the Olympia Tearoom and three rides on the antique carousel, Dunlevy and Kenny found themselves on the beach, walking toward Napatree Point. With the boy on his shoulders, Dunlevy stormed the seagulls as they foraged in the sand. The birds squawked their disapproval while Kenny laughed.

Dunlevy hoped the long walk and salt air would clear his head, and maybe help him make some important personal decisions. Throughout his career, there had been many times when an attractive woman would cross his path during the course of an important case. Dunlevy would occasionally look, flirt, sometimes even fantasize, but never act. For ten years, it was a wedding band and a big dose of Irish-Catholic guilt that kept him on the straight and narrow. For the past seven, it was a lack of confidence. But now, everything felt so right. Carolyn was beautiful and smart. And she came with a ready-made family, something Dunlevy thought had already passed him by. Maybe it was time to get back in the game.

The pair dug in the sand, then collected a handful of shells to bring back to Carolyn. Dunlevy was also returning with a commitment in mind, a decision to let this relationship take its course with no worry or guilt. It was time to put his personal life ahead of his job.

He placed Kenny squarely on his shoulders. “Hold on tight, little man,” Dunlevy said as he settled into a steady, yet swift jog.

It was a good two miles back, but he needed to sweat. Maybe this would be the start of a routine. Maybe he could drop that extra fifteen pounds he kept promising himself he'd lose someday. By the second mile, he was pushing himself. But the harder his legs pumped, the more energized he felt. Finding love again was empowering; it was as if he was awakening from a seven-year hibernation.

Carolyn waited for them outside in the courtyard. She could see them approaching from a distance. The baby was all smiles, but Dunlevy was bright red and out of breath.

“Are you okay?” she asked, genuinely concerned.

Dunlevy lifted the child from his shoulders and placed him on the ground. He bent over panting, placing his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “I'm fine. We took a little jog, that's all,” he replied, still gasping for breath.

She wiped the sweat from his face with a coffee-stained napkin. “Good thing I'm a nurse. You might need one.”

He put an arm around her waist and roughly clutched her to him. “I do need a nurse,” he said, planting a sweaty kiss on her lips. He whispered in her ear, “Maybe you could prescribe that same treatment from last night.”

She gave him a playful punch and smiled. “I guess you're okay.”

***

Carolyn prepared a picnic for the two men in her life. After lunch, they made love again while Kenny took his afternoon nap. Their post-sex snooze was cut short when his cell phone started to buzz.

He flipped it open. “Dunlevy.”

“Yeah, Harris. It's time to pack it in there. Your boy ain't in Rhode Island.”

He sat up. “How do you know that?”

“Baltimore police recovered a stolen Ford Mustang with North Carolina plates about ten hours ago. His fingerprints are all over it. And trust me Marty, he ain't headed your way. He's not that stupid.”

He nodded into the phone, nervously running his fingers through his thinning hair. “Maybe you're right. I've got an agent going into the old woman's house undercover. The family uses a temp health care agency to watch the old lady at night.”

There was silence on the other end. “You sure that's a good idea?”

“She's a nurse too. It'll be fine. I'll give it two days, then go back to Wilmington.”

“Keep me posted.”

“Okay, Bob. Thanks.”

Carolyn pulled the sheet higher, suddenly feeling self-conscious about her nudity. “What was that about?”

“They found DeMichael's car in Baltimore. It looks like we'll be headed back to Wilmington in a couple of days.”

She snuggled closer, not wanting to let him go. “I was sort of getting used to it here.”

He reached around and playfully swatted her bottom as he nuzzled her neck. “Me too. I don't want to, but we better get up.”

“Yeah, I need a shower. And I need a few things at the store.”

“I'll go. What kind of things?”

She laughed. “Girl things. How 'bout I borrow your car?”

An eyebrow went up. “You're in protective custody, remember?”

“Yeah, but since DeMichael's not here the only man I need to worry about is you.”

He gave her a quizzical smile. “I guess it's okay.”

“I'd like to swing by the local newspaper office too. Maybe they've got a photo archive. I'd like to see if I can find a picture of a young Mary Vocatura to e-mail to Reussel.”

Dunlevy frowned. “You don't have to do that. That's Franklin's job.”

“Yeah, but if he goes you'll have to get a subpoena or a writ or something. Why call all that attention to it if I can just go down there and browse through the pictures?”

He nodded. She made sense. “I could take you.”

She kissed his cheek to thank him for his chivalry. “No, you've got work to do.” She perched herself at the edge of the bed and slipped into her jeans. “We'll be fine.”

“Don't wake up Kenny. Let him sleep. I'll watch him. I don't mind. We're becoming pretty good buddies.”

Her eyes were gleaming as she smiled. “You're a sweet man, Special Agent Dunlevy. But no, I'll take him.”

He reached for the keys on the nightstand and tossed them in her direction. “The tank is full, but I've got boxes of files in the trunk. You need me to take them out?”

She shook her head. “No, I only need to pick up a few things. I won't be long,” she said, kissing his forehead.