'It's definitely not a swastika,' she said evenly.
'What do you think it is then?'
'I'm not sure. I think I've seen it before, though. Let's look it up.'
'Where?'
'In the dictionary. It's in my office upstairs. I'll bring it down.'
Colin couldn't believe it. The dictionary! Why hadn't he thought of that? Why hadn't Mike Rosler? He'd finally made contact with Mike that afternoon. He was as stymied as Colin, but said he'd keep after it, see what he could find.
Annie came back carrying a large Random House dictionary. She opened it on her lap, riffled the pages. 'See, here it is.' She moved closer to him, their bodies touching, the dictionary half on her lap, half on his.
Colin struggled to ignore the warmth of her thigh against his and concentrated on the page in front of him. There were the two symbols side by side:
He read the definition next to them: '1. a figure used as a symbol or an ornament in the Old World and in America since prehistoric times, consisting of a cross with arms of equal length, each arm having a continuation at right angles, and all four continuations extending either clockwise or counterclockwise… 2. this figure with clockwise arms as the official emblem of the Nazi party and the Third Reich. Also a good luck sign.' He read the caption below the two symbols. 'Swastikas. A, Oriental and American Indian; B, Nazi.'
'What do you think, Colin?'
'I don't know. It brings up a lot of possibilities, doesn't it?'
'Yes, I guess it does. There were plenty of Indians here at one time, you know.'
'Or it could be that someone doesn't know how to make a swastika. I'll bet if you asked ten people to make swastikas at least half would draw them the way the killer did.'
'You're probably right.'
'Have you ever heard anything about a Nazi party here?'
'No.'
'And the only Orientals I've seen own the restaurant.'
'Believe me, it couldn't be any of Koi Chang's family. I know them pretty well.'
'I can't back this up, but I have a feeling the one made was the one meant. I wish I could find out more about this symbol.' He lifted the dictionary from their laps, placed it on the floor, and turned back to her. They were still touching; neither moved away.
'Betty Mills would probably have some information.'
'The librarian,' he confirmed.
She nodded.
'Could we see her?'
'The library's not open at ten-thirty on Saturday night.'
'Monday, then. What time does it open?'
'Ten, I think.'
'Ten,' he repeated vaguely, his eyes searching hers. They were very blue, the pupils dark, the color of black olives. She'd drawn an outline around the edges, given a soft blue cast to her lids. There was a delicacy to her mouth, and he wanted to taste her lips, gently bite the lower one. He leaned toward her, she toward him. Their mouths met. He slipped an arm around her, pulled her closer. She responded, her hand behind his neck. He could feel her breasts pressing against his chest, knew just how he would touch them. When they parted he said, 'I want you, Annie.'
'Colin,' she whispered, closed her eyes, almost imperceptibly shook her head.
But he saw it. 'What?'
She opened her eyes, taking him in. 'It's been so long. I'm frightened.'
'Me, too.' He kissed each eye. 'I haven't felt like this since… since my wife.'
'I know. I feel the same. But…'
'You feel guilty?'
'As if I'm cheating on Bob. I know it's foolish, but I can't help it.'
'I understand.'
'You're the first man I've kissed, Colin, since him.' She touched his cheek with her fingertips. 'It seems strange.'
'I know.'
'Do you feel that? Do you feel I'm strange?' she asked. 'Yes and no. You're not Nancy and that's strange. But you're Annie and I like that.'
She smiled, leaned toward him. Carefully, he took her lower lip between his teeth, slid into a kiss.
Then he said, 'Annie, I want to stay the night with you,' his lips to her ear.
'Oh, Colin, no,' she said.
'Why not?' Here come de minister, he thought. She moved away, picked up her cup, sipped. 'Is it your religion?' he asked.
She laughed sweetly, touched his hand. 'You think Unitarian Universalists don't make love?'
'I thought maybe ministers didn't, if they weren't married.'
'Some do, some don't.'
'And you?'
She evaded the question. 'I couldn't let you spend the night, Colin. It would offend too many people.'
'Who has to know?'
'Everyone would know.'
'You mean my car? I'll park it somewhere else.'
'No, that wouldn't work.'
'Why not?'
'You'd be seen. Trust me, the people around here know everything that goes on.'
'No one's spotted a killer, so what makes you think anybody's going to know I spent the night with you?'
'I can't take the chance.'
'That doesn't leave us much, does it?'
'What do you mean?'
He lit a cigarette. 'We're not kids, Annie.'
'If we were, you'd be spending the night.' He laughed, took her hand in his, and kissed her palm. She trembled.
'Let me ask you this. If you weren't a minister with a nosy congregation, would you let me stay?'
Hours seemed to pass before she answered but it was only seconds. 'Yes,' she whispered.
He put his cigarette in the ashtray, drew her toward him, traced her lips with his finger. 'We could make love now and I could leave afterwards, but I don't want you that way, Annie. If we make love, we spend the night together or else we don't make love at all.'
'Thank you for that.' She put her arms around his neck and kissed him, long and sweet.
He couldn't take it any longer, gently disengaged himself. 'I think I'd better go.'
At the door he said, 'Where do we go from here?'
'I don't know.'
'I guess we play it by ear.'
'I guess.'
They kissed again, their bodies pressed hard against one another. He wanted to beg her to change her mind, but knew she wouldn't, couldn't.
'I've got to go,' he said. Then he made a last-ditch effort. 'How about you coming to my house?'
She smiled. 'Same problem.'
'I thought you'd say that.' He took her face between both hands, tenderly kissed her eyes, her mouth. 'We'll talk tomorrow?'
'Yes,' she said.
Sitting in his car, he reflected on the past half hour. Annie was wonderful. She made him feel alive again. God, he'd wanted her. He wondered how they'd ever get together, make love. 'Play it by ear,' he'd said. But one thing
