he is used to being looked up to, or so I’m told.”
“ Most tall people are. What does the name of the nightclub mean? Havana Tocador?” she repeated.
The car shot to a halt in front of them, and Eriq opened her door for her, tipped the valet and off they drove. “Tocador. It means one of two things.”
“ Yes?”
“ Boudoir, but it has also a sexual connotation as dessert.”
She looked askance at him, her eyes asking before her mouth, “No lie?”
“ Yeah,” he confessed, “I’m just teasing. Hey, before going back to our separate, lonely hotel cells, how about maybe-”
“ Cells? You call those rooms cells?”
“- how about a walk on beautiful Miami Beach?”
“ Eriq, Eriq… don’t you ever run out of steam? Wha- taya got, a sleep disorder or something? Insomnia or something?”
“ Something,” he muttered in return.
“‘ Cause that I can understand, but Eriq, it’s past two a.m., and I have to be in early tomorrow if I’m going to be in any kind of shape to duke it out again with the big guys, to stay ahead of Coudriet and company.”
“ All right, then… I will escort you back to your hotel and say good night like a decent fellow.”
His slight tone of irritation sounded both sweet and sophomoric at once, she thought, wondering just what was on his mind. He certainly had had enough to drink. “I did have a… an interesting time, Eriq, and I do appreciate your having shown me a side of the city I would not have seen otherwise.”
“ Don’t mention it. I had a good time, too.”
“ Frankly, in this town, I’m lost.”
“ So are several million others.”
A light sprinkle began, like the spray from a partially opened nozzle, and suddenly the streets were slick with water, reflecting car, billboard and neon lights, painting Miami in the fluid rainbow hues of quicksilver and mercury. Headlights flashed by them like speeding ghosts, and the dark interior of the car grew smaller, denser-an enclave against the artificial light of this place.
Eriq turned on both the radio and the defrost, clearing the fogged-up windows to the beat of a mellow Johnny Mathis song, a welcome respite after the noisy restaurant music.
Jessica laid her head back, trying to empty it of all thought, all pain, when out of nowhere Santiva said, “Look, I don’t think I’ve expressed my deep regret about your recent loss, Jessica, and I want to now.” He had had too much to drink. He was getting schmaltzy, his voice slurred, and she hadn’t any idea in the world what the hell he was talking about. “I’m extremely very sorry that Parry took that bullet.”
“ What the hell are you talking about, Eriq?”
“ I was told that this guy you were seeing, that you were going to chuck everything for, was shot in the line of duty, killed.”
“ When? When did you hear this?”
“ Two weeks ago. It was going around Quantico.”
“ That’s the craziest piece of bullshit I’ve heard in a year.”
“ Then it didn’t happen? But I was under the impression you were… that you two were… and then suddenly you’re back as if nothing had happened, so I asked around and somebody said-”
“ Somebody’s full of shit, Eriq.” She gulped back the rest of her reply, not knowing what it ought to be, and she fought back hot tears. “It’s rather old news now, Eriq, but we simply broke up. Nobody… no one was shot. At least no one that I love… not this year…” She imagined that someone had somehow scrambled the story of Otto Bou- tine’s death with the story of her recent breakup with James Parry, and that somehow Parry’s obituary had been written. As Mark Twain would’ve said, the reports of Parry’s death were greatly exaggerated. “Can we now get back to the hotel, please?” she asked.
He drove on, saying something inane about having to use a rental, that the dummies in the bureau hadn’t been organized enough to get him a radio car, “but that’s going to change tomorrow!”
After this, the silence between them was like lead inside glass. When they got back to the beautifully lit palace of the Fontainebleau, he parked the car and grabbed her hand. ‘ ‘In the interest of doing a good job down here, I’m going to support you in every way possible, Jess.”
“ Thanks, Eriq. You’re doing fine.” She wondered what he meant by in every way possible.
“ Jess, I’m faxing all we have first thing tomorrow. Anything else I can use in the report back to Quantico?”
“ I can’t be certain, Eriq but…” She hesitated.
“ Go on, what?”
“ They were strangled, that’s certain, but I have a sixth sense about this guy.”
“ Whataya mean?”
“ I have to run some tests on the Norris body first, but I’ve got a sensation that this guy is very controlled, and that he wouldn’t be satisfied to just kill his victim by strangulation or drowning. Not this guy.”
“ What’re you getting at?”
“ I think-and it’s just conjecture until I can run some tissue samples, check out the lungs, that sort of thing- but it’s just possible that he watches his victims drown, to get a full charge; you know, watching their struggles in the water.”
“ Can you prove that? Damn, if you could prove that, once we get this sicko-scumbag-bastard into custody, it’d go a long way toward the death penalty with a Florida jury.”
“ I think I can prove it, yes.”
They walked from the lot to the hotel foyer, where Jessica said good night.
Eriq again apologized. “I’m sorry about my blunder earlier, for my error regarding Jim Parry.”
“ Forget it, Eriq, and get some rest. You’re going to need all the rest you can get for this case.” She started straight for the elevator and her room.
Once alone, Jessica kicked off her shoes and tore away her clothes, anxious for a shower and rest. She walked to the bath, where she and ran the hot water, catching a glimpse of her slim body in the quickly fogging mirror. She watched the smooth film of condensation create a mosaic of the mirror-lines, veins, arteries of condensation forming nectarlike before her body, erasing her, making a ghost of her before her own eyes. She gave a thought to Allison Norris’s last involuntary pose before the camera; somewhere in the thick protocol and information on the victim, Jessica had read that she was a part-time model, so she had worked as daddy’s little girl in the boat sales showroom, just waiting to be discovered by Hollywood East- Orlando. Sadly, her final photographs taken on this earth found her the victim of a cruel death which robbed her of beauty and dignity, her backdrop the Miami city morgue.
Now all that Jessica could see in the fog-laden mirror were her hands reflecting back at her where she reached out to touch the intangible image of her self lost inside that mirror. She wondered how lost Allison Norris must have felt the night she died.
Jessica tore herself from the mirror and stepped toward the shower. She tried to shake off the dark, dreary images by recalling to mind her lover, Jim Parry. She gave Jim a long and thoughtful moment, recalling the warmth, the gentleness they had shared, the explosive sex that was beyond any lovemaking she had ever known. She arched her body toward his memory, the memory of his touch. In her waking dream, she pressed her lips to his and all of an instant, she was making passionate love to him again. It was a deep, abiding love which rivaled the Hawaiian trade winds in sheer intensity and duration.
She recalled how deliciously their lovemaking had progressed, gaining momentum, getting better, better, better each time she found herself in his naked embrace. The loving went in measured point-counterpoint fashion, an unfolding melodic composition, a choir of rising and falling crescendo with the ebb and flow of the midnight-blue waters on the black-sand beaches of Maui. For a brief moment, she recalled how she and Jim had become one out there on the beach, not only with one another but with their primeval setting, and how they had flown together, having become the very air they breathed in and out of one another.
That morning on the beach, she’d awakened and begun to tease, saying, “Now that’s the way to welcome a girl to paradise, James Parry.”
