“How are you feeling now, Jessica-about Parry and the whole mess, I mean?”
Jessica stood up and came around the desk. She then looked herself over in exaggerated fashion, working her hands along her arms, as if seeing what part of her had been hurt in the fray with James Parry. Finally, she looked slowly up at Kim, who leaned into the desk.
“Well?” Kim pressed.
Jessica's whiskey voice filled the room. “I feel… wonderful; I feel a great weight has been lifted off. You were absolutely right; I needed to tell the SOB what I thought of him, and to put a few hurting screws to his hide.”
“Mission accomplished!” Kim cheered. “That's the spirit! Full steam ahead with your hunk from New Scotland Yard, then?”
“Let's get out of here.”
“Right-o!”
Turning out the light, Kim offered her friend a handkerchief and a final word of advice. “Time you took what you want from life, Jess. Don't hold back.”
“Starting tonight. Where's the elevator out of here?”
Exiting the building, they passed Dr. Frank DeAngelos as he entered. Only a few words of salutation passed among them.
“Quite the sourpuss that one,” said Kim. “If what they say about the evil eye is true, dear, you just got it with both barrels.”
“Watch my back, will you, Kim?”
“Goes without saying.”
“That prick's the very last person on earth I wanted to see tonight.”
“Forget about him. How do you feel now about being free-completely free-of James Parry?”
“I am glad I cleansed my spleen of James. You know, I think he is exactly what he accuses me of being, not a bone of commitment found anywhere in his morally bankrupt body.”
“I want to hear all about it, every detail, over drinks, once you loosen up. Save it up. Meantime, tell me this. Anything new on the case come of your digging away these many long hours?”
“No, nothing at all, but I managed to get the toxicology out of DeAngelos's hands and into Jay Masterson's lab in D.C.”
“Well now! That's a victory. No wonder he hates your guts.”
“Hopefully I've done the right thing, but what if-”
“Hold that self-doubt and second-guessing. Save it for someone who wants to hear it. Let's go have a beer. I hear Philly's got some nightlife.
“I'm game.”
“You want to stop off at the hotel first, freshen up? Your mascara's running. You look like Marilyn Man son on a drunk.”
“I wasn't crying over Jim Parry,” Jessica firmly said.
“Good! Then what were you crying over?”
“End of a relationship, release of stress, I dunno, but it wasn't tears of regret, I can tell you that.”
“Bravo! Then it's on to the hotel and drinks?”
“Let's make a night of it.”
“In a celebrating mood, are we?”
“We are.”
“Going to call Richard tonight?”
“No, just have fun. You and me.”
“That's my girl. A night without a single thought wasted on a man.”
Jessica thanked Kim for her earlier advice, for urging her to see this thing through with James, and they hugged and laughed.
“He seems to believe I prefer long-distance relationships, that I find them a helluva lot safer than the real thing, you know,” Jessica confided as they passed the colorfully lit city hall, strolling around Philadelphia's clean, well-lit downtown, trying to ignore the pronounced police presence. The bricked sidewalks were slick from earlier rain showers, the black asphalt mirroring the city lights in crazy and wavy images. A cool breeze and some scavenging black crows played about the two women.
“Beautiful birds,” said Kim. “I just love crows and ravens, don't you? Unusual to see them in a flock looking for food at night, though.”
“With these city lights, how do they know whether it's night or day?”
“They're disoriented, you think? Or just hungry? Not unlike our victims.”
“Maybe he's right.“What? Maybe who's right?”
“Jim Parry. Maybe he's right about me. Maybe his assessment is right on.”
“So fucking what? If it works for you, go for it. Life's too short, Jess. If Parry couldn't figure out how to keep you, then you're better off without him. One door closes and-”
“I know, I know… another opens.”
They had come to stand below the lights of the hotel where they were staying. Inside, they rode the elevator up, Jessica losing herself in thought until Kim jabbed her in the ribs, saying, “I think God and life and fate owe you a few, Jessica Coran.”
“Really? And by what measure are you reckoning fate?”
“By whatever measure makes you happy. Find it, do it, live it, and screw anyone who comes between you and what you love.”
“Is that how it is with you and Alex?”
“Alex and I are just great, just now really discovering the depth of our love and commitment to one another.”
“God… wish… hope I find that with Richard.”
“You can! Give it time. When he gets here, after you've spent some time together, you still have to be patient with yourself and with him. Time is all it takes when love is real.”
Jessica teased, “Maybe you shoulda oughta been a poet yourself, Kim!”
Kim laughed at this. “Sure, ruinous poetry for people to puke by. That's the only kind of lines I might pen. No, I'm no poet. I just know that what Alex Sincebaugh and I have found I wish for every living soul.”
They separated, going to their rooms to change for the evening, each promising to call the other when ready to party.
ELEVEN
Rare is the expert who combines an informed opinion with a healthy respect for his own intuition and curiosity.
An evening on the town with Kim Desinor proved precisely what the doctor ordered; Jessica completely forgot about James Parry and her confrontation with him, forgot about her worries over the case, taking time off- even in her head-to finally relax. She felt a great weight lifted from her mind as a result.
As she and Kim drank another Philly margarita, a specialty of the house, in a place aptly or inepdy called Recycled Cowboys, they talked about their impressions of the city. They sat at a table in a darkened corner, the western decor betraying signs of the place having been an Irish pub not too long ago. Jessica imagined it the hardest thing in the world to make a go of a new bar or restaurant. The atmosphere notwithstanding, the place remained a brick-walled bar with a karaoke machine and an open mike, and after a few old western balladeers finished replacing the old Irish lullabies, and a few more drinks, the ladies felt no pain.
From here, they located another, more trendy coffeehouse-style bar and grill called Hobgoblins amp; Gnomes
