He frowned and regarded her as only a drunk person could, through his eyelashes, chin down. 'Was I expecting you?'
'I just stopped by. Guess it's a good thing because you seem to be in need of a baby-sitter.'
She didn't know what was going on in his life, but he was hurting. Bad. She should have had Strata Luna put together an unfuck-my-life spell for him.
He continued to stare, and she wondered if he even recognized her.
'I like you,' he finally said.
'That's nice. I'm sure you'll feel the same way tomorrow,' she said dryly.
He let go of the counter and moved toward her, reaching and fumbling for the buttons of her blouse. 'Let's just make you more comfortable.'
She brushed his hands away. 'No '
'Why not?'
She slid his metal watch from his wrist. 'You're the one who is going to get more comfortable.' She undid his belt buckle and supped it from his pants. 'Follow me.' Walking backward, she pulled him toward her, moving in the direction of the bedroom.
He minded as best he could.
When they reached the bed, he fell across the mattress, pulling Flora with him. And immediately passed out.
How much had he had to drink? she wondered. More than what was missing from the fifth?
She gave him a little slap on the cheek. No response. She slapped him again. Nothing.
Her plan had been to undress him before putting him in the shower. That wasn't going to work. 'David! David, come on. You have to get up.'
He groaned.
'Come on.' She pulled him by the arms. 'Stand up.'
Amazingly, he managed to get himself upright. With his arm draped over her shoulder, she walked him to the bathroom and stuck him in the shower, his back to the tiled wall. Somehow he stayed there, even though his eyes were closed and his mouth was slack.
Everybody in the world was a mess. Doctors. Priests. Prostitutes, and cops. Didn't matter who you were, what you did, or how much money you made. Living was tough.
She turned the cold faucet.
At first, David didn't even respond as icy water poured over his head, soaking his clothes. He finally let out a loud, shocked gasp. His eyes flew open and his arms flailed.
'Jesus!' he shouted. 'Are you trying to kill me?'
Mercilessly, she let the water continue to pour over him. 'You're doing a good job of that by yourself.'
Chapter 18
'He's cute.' Audrey stared into the distance as she sucked sweet tea through a straw.
'Our waiter?' Elise asked, following the direction of her daughter's gaze.
'Yeah. Think he goes to SCAD?'
'Most of the people who work here go to SCAD.'
They were sitting in wooden schoolroom chairs at a marble-topped table in the front window of the Gryphon Tea Room, overlooking Madison Square. The Gryphon was one of the many buildings owned and renovated by SCAD, Savannah College of Art and Design. The renovation had involved retaining most of the original features, from the pharmacist cabinets and apothecary tile to the mahogany walls and Tiffany glass.
Audrey loved the place, and Elise tried to take her there several times a year for a mother-and-daughter tea.
'Here he comes again,' Audrey whispered, leaning forward.
Audrey was the age when moods changed so rapidly it almost seemed like sleight of hand. Now you see it; now you don't. At the moment she was up, almost euphoric-a direct combination of the tearoom, caffeine, and their waiter. Elise was smart enough to know she herself didn't even register in the equation.
The waiter breezed past with a tray of decadent-looking desserts, bound for another table. Elise found herself much more interested in what the young man was carrying than in the young man himself.
'Don't you think he's cute?' Audrey asked once he was out of earshot.
Audrey was wearing makeup now. Fairly conservative if you discounted the powder blue eye shadow that matched her long-sleeved T-shirt. Her normally curly hair was parted in the middle and had been tamed with some kind of straightening tool. Her face still held baby fat, her cheeks soft and slightly rounded. Her short nails had been carefully painted with silver, glittery polish.
Would she be tall? Elise wondered. Thomas was fairly tall. And what about her grandfather? Because more and more Elise found herself believing that she was the daughter of Jackson Sweet. She'd read that Jackson Sweet had been over six feet. Very few pictures had been taken of him, but Elise had once come across two blurry photos at the Historical Society. Brooding, with a long, thin face. He'd been wearing the glasses Strata Luna had given her.
Elise reached for the teapot. 'Not my type, I guess,' she replied in answer to Audrey's question about the waiter.
Audrey took one of the bite-size sandwiches from the tiny three-tiered tray. She examined it carefully, pulling back the bread to make sure the filling didn't contain something she would consider gross. Which could be almost anything, because Audrey's definition of gross changed with her mood. 'Was Dad your type?' The question was presented in a sneaky, casual way.
Elise poured tea and put the pot back on the tray. 'At one time.'
'But not anymore.'
'Well… no.'
Elise knew Audrey blamed her for the divorce. Maybe she was to blame, more than anybody knew. It was a question that had haunted her since she and Thomas had married.
'Is David Gould your type?' Audrey asked with a sly smile.
'Gould?' Elise made a face and picked a red grape from the top tier of the serving tray. 'David Gould?'
'Yeah. He's about your age, isn't he?'
'I guess.' She popped the grape in her mouth.
'And single.'
'Divorced, I think he told me.'
'See. You're divorced; he's divorced.'
Elise laughed and shook her head. 'Audrey, we are nothing alike.'
'You're both cops. Both detectives. You told me once that the reason you and Dad broke up was because you were too different. So you need a guy with the same lifestyle.'
Elise thought it in poor taste to mention that her partner had a drinking problem and that beyond work their lives were nothing alike. But then, she knew how a young girl's thoughts could take off, and she didn't want Audrey to start thinking she and Gould could ever be anything. As it stood, they were barely even partners. 'It's not going to happen,' Elise said. 'So get that out of your head.'
'But you married Dad thinking you were so right for each other. Then you found out you weren't. Maybe you need to find somebody who seems wrong for you. Maybe then it would work.'
Teenage logic. 'Not all women need a man,' Elise told her.
A couple of patrolling Guardian Angels walked past the window dressed in red berets and vests.
'How old do you have to be to be a Guardian Angel?' Audrey asked.
'Sixteen,' Elise said. 'Do you have an interest in being one?'
Audrey suddenly looked confused, then embarrassed, as if her own curiosity had caught her unaware. 'No way,' she stated, once again the annoyed, bored teen. 'Why would I wanna do that?' And of course she wouldn't want to show interest in a profession that remotely resembled her mother's.
