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I took a hasty shower, almost scalding myself in the process, toweled myself off and bumped my toe painfully on my way out of the bathroom. “Ow!”
Naked, I ransacked my bureau and closets. The best I could do was a black slip with no panties on. After dashing on far too much White Diamonds perfume, I was ready. Except I wasn’t. Not really. I paced the floor in black stiletto heels, wringing my hands. Suppose he was used to thin women and I was too fat? Would he groan and collapse with a hernia while trying to lift me? On top of that, I had come on to him like a Penthouse Pet, and now he was probably expecting a superstar performance from me between the sheets. Worse, suppose he wanted oral sex? The only time I had ever done it was in my fantasies. I might bite down on him too hard, causing a terrible, gaping, bloody wound in his penis that would take twelve stitches to close!
By the time the downstairs doorbell rang, I was in such a state that I needed a drink to calm down but there was no time to get one.
I stepped to the intercom box to answer the summons. My mouth was dry as I pushed the TALK button. “Who is it?”
“Me.”
I buzzed him in, patted my hair, slid my hands down the sides of my body, and glided toward the front door. There was a knock. I unlocked the door, released the security chain, and there stood Paul.
I was shocked and alarmed. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes were hard and flat. His moustache quivered beneath his nose. His body was rigid. The arms held tightly against his torso with the hands balled into fists. When he opened his mouth to speak, it was like watching a trapdoor unlock.
“Is this the outfit you wear for deep thinking?” he sneered.
“Paul, I . . .”
He cut me off. “Don’t bother making up another lie. The next time you’re in trouble, call Victor.”
He gave my trampy little outfit a withering glance and fled back down the stairs. I closed the door and rummaged around in my kitchen cupboards for a half-empty bottle of rum that I’d left there a long time ago. My hands were trembling. I turned the bottle up to my lips and took a long swallow. The liquid burned its way down to my nervous stomach.
Feeling better, I decided not to worry about Paul until morning. I would call him then and say the right words that would turn us into friends again. Yes, I was wrong for lying to him but he had no right to pull the jealous shit that he’d done. He just needed time to cool off and he’d be able to see that.
I placed the bottle on the coffee table along with a bucket of ice and a liter of Pepsi. I dimmed the lights and put a Maxwell CD on the stereo to complete the seduction scene. I had just repaired my lipstick when the downstairs doorbell rang again.
This time it was Victor.
He eyed me appreciatively as I took his coat and hung it up. “My, don’t you look delicious.”
We settled in on my sofa, drinking and talking shop until Victor raised the subject of Annabelle’s murder.
“So, have there been any new developments in the police investigation?”
“I don’t know. Why would they share anything with me?”
He crossed one leg over the other. “It just seems like someone had to see something on the morning it happened. Maybe something very important that didn’t mean anything at the time.”
“Maybe I should hire a hypnotist to refresh my memory,” I replied playfully.
“That’s a great idea, Jackie. You could . . .”
I cut him off there and moved in closer. “Victor, we can talk about murder tomorrow morning if you want to, okay?”
There was nothing else to say. It was time to DO, and we both knew it.
The silence grew uncomfortable, and I wondered why he didn’t make a move. He drummed his fingers on the coffee table and hummed along to the music until I was about to shake him like a rag doll.
I stood up, placed my hands on my hips, and gave him a seductive smile.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Stand your punk ass up, is what I wanted to say.
I was exasperated beyond belief. “Victor, what part of ‘there is a healthy woman wearing a thin slip with nothing on underneath, staring at you with lust in her heart’ don’t you get?”
He coughed. “Do you want to lay down?”
