B00BSH8JUC EBOK (13 page)

Alie stumbled into my arms. I helped her across the parking lot to the police car. “Can I sit up front?” she sniffled. I let her in the passenger’s side, then got behind the wheel. “Can we just sit here a minute, please?” she asked.

She cried quietly, not really making a big deal out of what had happened, just getting her emotions out. I felt my adrenaline level returning to normal.

“You were right,” she said wanly. “I shouldn’t have come to Poe’s.”

I forgave her for everything. I was nothing if not a pushover for a beautiful damsel I had just saved from distress. Isn’t that the way it works in all the fairy tales?

“Listen,” I said. “I know a place we can go that will make you feel better. It’s called the Hollies. It’s for women.”

“My father will kill me if I’m seen in a place like that.”

“No one will know. It’s very discreet. I’ve been going there for years.”

“If you’re really sure, then okay.”

I drove out the dark, familiar road to the inconspicuous break in the low stone well, up the twisted drive through the press of pine trees to the inn with the single candles shining in the windows, the inn that had become my home when there was no more home to be had with Wendell and Lynn. This is where I grew up, where I learned what it meant to be included in the company of women. If there was such a thing as ghosts, mine would return here when the time came, sharing eternity with the shades of Randie and Julie and the Hollies, the women who took me in.

Alie could have let herself out, but she waited for me to help her. “This is pretty,” she said.

We went inside, and immediately I was swallowed by Big Holly’s bearlike embrace. When she released me, she greeted Alie with the experience that came from welcoming scores of closeted celebrities. Then she wagged her finger at me. “Kotter! Why didn’t you phone ahead? I’d have reserved a table for you. Fortunately, I have one set aside. I had a feeling this tennis tournament could produce a few extras.”

“Sorry, Holly, but this was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

Holly hugged me and whispered in my ear, “With your talents, Kotter, I’m not surprised.”

I shrugged, content to let her think whatever she wanted to. Big Holly was happily paired with Little Holly, but she had never missed a chance to lay a hand on me. Just being friendly, of course.

She showed us to a table nearer the front than she usually put me, then excused herself to greet some other new arrivals. I glanced around. It was mostly a hometown crowd. I noticed the Hillsboro College tennis coach sharing an intimate little dinner with a player from the tour. The player caught Alie’s eye and nodded at her.

“Is it a problem, her being here?” I asked.

“No. I know about her, she knows about me. I’ve run into her at places like this before.”

Big Holly returned. “Something to drink?”

“I’m kind of still on duty,” I said. “Better just bring me an Evian, Holly.”

“Same for me,” Alie said with a sheepish smile that acknowledged she’d already had enough.

“Food?” Big Holly asked. Alie shrugged, so Holly said, “I’ll bring you some hors d’oeuvres. You can nibble.”

We were as alone as you can be in a roomful of people. Alie looked at me. I looked at Alie. I was out of my league.

“You were very brave,” Alie said.

“Nah. I’m a cop. I did what I was supposed to.”

“I mean it, Kotter.” She clasped my hand.

I felt the electricity shooting up my arm and arcing speedily to all the places that made me want to do whatever it took to please someone like Alie. I became very conscious of Alie’s body stretched against the silky fabric of her shirt, and I imagined how those jeans must be curved against her as she leaned forward in her chair. The music seemed particularly sultry as it swirled around us, and I found myself blurting, “Dance?”

Her smile had a little triumph in it. The control was swinging back her way. We went to the dance floor.

I held her close, alive with the sensation of her breasts against me. Traces of the alcohol and smoke that poisoned the atmosphere at Poe’s still clung to her, but I was a creature of the gutter and did not care. I wondered whether she could feel my trembling as we swayed sensually to the music.

When the song ended, we returned to the table. My throat was so tight, I couldn’t trust myself to speak. Alie folded herself back into her own thoughts. We sat in silence, picking at the food Big Holly brought us. After awhile, Alie asked me to take her back to the College Inn. She rode in the back seat, still not talking.

At the hotel she closed the door to her room without saying good night. It didn’t matter. I had danced with her, and that was enough.

When the telephone rang in the morning, I was already awake, puttering around in sweatpants and a T-shirt. It was a miracle.

“Hello, Kotter speaking,” I said, very politely.

I heard Randie laugh. “You’re a quick study, aren’t you?”

“Good morning, Captain.”

“Are you up?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m calling from the lobby. I’ll be right there.”

I figured Randie’s visit must be Julie’s doing, unexpected as it was. The voyeur in me wondered what had been offered or withheld in the night to bring it about.

Randie appeared in her uniform with a couple of takeout cups of coffee and the
Courier.
“Have, you seen the paper yet?”

Penn’s story on Papa de Ville was plastered across the front page, and it was a good one. Penn had done his homework. He even tracked down an old assistant principal, retired to the Home of Merciful Rest, a name that always sounded more like a cemetery than a nursing home to me. The assistant principal had helped to discipline the schoolboy gambling ring and recalled Papa as “wild and unrepentant.”

Penn also had a quote from Alie’s agent insisting Papa’s past had nothing to do with the recent mugging. “Do you believe that?” I asked.

“Not in the least. Let’s see if anybody else is talking about this,” Randie said, flipping on the television.

Somebody else sure was. Not only were the local news stations repeating the story, but it was all over ESPN. The sports network already was pronouncing Papa to be one of those Rotten Tennis Dads, like the fathers of Steffi Graf or Mary Pierce.

“I think this tournament is about to get a little more media attention. What do you think, Kotter?” Randie deadpanned.

“The mayor said it would give Hillsboro a new identity.”

We watched the ESPN broadcast until it moved on to the baseball scores. Randie hit the “mute” button and said, “So how did it go last night? Did she still want to go to Poe’s?”

“She did.”

“Any problems?”

“Nothing to speak of.”

“Are you telling me the truth?”

She always knew. Since I was a kid tagging along with her softball teams, Randie had always known. I shrugged.

“Did you do anything that could get you in trouble?” she asked.

“You know,” I said, “when you go into a night with the rules turned upside down, it almost has to happen, doesn’t it?”

“All right,” Randie said. “All right.”

She didn’t ask me anything else. I would have told her if she did, but this way it became one of those moments of friendship you never forget.

“The detectives have tracked down some of the names from Papa de Ville’s old gambling ring,” Randie said. “One guy’s dead, another one’s been in jail for years in California, one just had a heart transplant and is still in the hospital, and one of them’s a truck driver who’s on the road a lot. They even found one guy who never lost the gambling bug—he’s a security guard in an Atlantic City casino.”

“They better watch the till,” I said.

“Don’t you know it. A lot of the rest of the crew are apparently still in the area, but they’re the types who go from apartment to apartment, job to job and woman to woman. The detectives are having the usual trouble finding them, and of course, our culprits are probably among them. Still, the investigation is going pretty well.”

“Thanks to Penn.”

“Yeah. As if that hasn’t happened before.”

We passed the time until the door across the hallway was flung open. “Kotter! Do you know what the fuck is going on?” Alie said, the voice at full throttle.

She came busting over, sexy as always in shorts and a sweatshirt, then spotted Randie and stopped in her tracks. A wary expression came over her, and it was pretty obvious she was trying to figure out whether there was something going on between Randie and me. “I didn’t expect you’d have company at this hour.”

“Don’t worry,” I said drily. “I’m not trying to sleep my way to the top.”

“In Kotter’s case, even that wouldn’t help,” Randie added wittily.

Alie giggled. “I remember you. You’re Captain Wilkes, right? You came here the night my father got mugged when they wanted to put all that extra security around me.”

“Instead, you got Kotter,” Randie said, smiling.

“Yeah. Hey, Kotter, how come you never wear your uniform? Captain Wilkes looks great in hers.”

Three new suits—two that Randie knew about—and this babe wishes I was in uniform. I couldn’t believe it. Randie would never let me forget this. I didn’t dare look at her. I’m sure it was all she could do to keep from laughing.

Oblivious to the destruction she was sowing, Alie plunged ahead. “Kotter, what’s going on? My agent just called and said to make sure I don’t talk to any reporters. I’m supposed to go over and meet with him and my father.” She glanced at Randie, then went ahead, anyway. “Did anyone find out about the Hollies?”

“I think they probably want to talk about what was in the paper this morning,” I said and handed it to her.

Alie read Penn’s story—without moving her lips. “That’s horrible! It was so long ago! How come the press has to go and dig up things like that? Oh well. At least it has nothing to do with what happened to us.” She smiled at Randie. “Kotter was awesome. Did she tell you?”

Oh God. In my darkest nightmares I could not have anticipated this.

“Kotter’s so modest,” Randie said smoothly. “Maybe you better tell me.”

Alie turned out to be a pretty lurid storyteller, even if she had to ask for help at the crucial part. “Then Kotter came running up, and she told the guy to stop, but he told her to go fuck herself, so she took out, you know, one of those little clubs—”

“A blackjack?” Randie prompted.

“Yeah, a blackjack.” Alie charged through the rest of the story, including our visit to the Hollies, although she didn’t mention the dance.

“Thanks for telling me,” Randie said

“Well, you should know. I mean Kotter really saved me. Anyway, I have to get ready for my meeting. See you in a few, Kotter.” She bounced back across the hall and shut the door.

I was cooked. Visions of internal affairs danced in my head. “Guilty as charged,” I said softly.

Randie looked at me for such a long time I thought my heart would stop. Then she said “You know, Kotter, maybe we’ll just add this to the long list of reasons why you owe me your soul.”

“Randie my soul ain’t worth that much.”

“Then you’re getting the better part of the bargain, aren’t you?”

“I always have.”

“Just be sure you remember that. Well it’s time for me to go to the station, and you need to take Alie out to her father’s condo. And, Kotter?”

“What?”

“Give the girl a thrill. Go ahead and wear your uniform.”

***

For the record, I did not wear my uniform to drive Alie to Buena Vista and Papa de Ville’s condo. My fellow officers were out there, and no self-respecting cop ever puts on a uniform when she has the option to dress in civilian clothes. I would look like a dork in uniform, and I wasn’t going to do that, even for Alie. I put on the blue suit.

Alie appeared in jeans and one of those sleeveless, cropped T-shirts that showed off her taut and tanned midsection. I nodded my appreciation, and she smiled knowingly. After last night, after the heroics and the dance, there was no denying the sexual tension between us.

“Don’t you wish,” she teased.

“Wish for what?”

She didn’t bother to answer. She had me, and she knew it. In life or on a tennis court, Alie de Ville wasn’t happy unless she was dictating the play.

At Buena Vista I joined the security detail at the condo. Alie stayed through lunchtime, and then I took her back to the College Inn. There was a message waiting for me to call Randie.

“Wilkes here.”

“It’s Kotter. You called?”

“Yeah, I thought you’d want to know this. I went over to Charlie’s to pick up a sandwich for lunch, and they had the WHLL sports talk show on the radio. The Hillsboro College football fans are in mourning. There’s a new freshman linebacker named Shawn Bevan who was supposed to be the hope of the defense, but he’s hurt and they don’t know when he’ll be able to play. Apparently he suffered a freak elbow accident in practice yesterday, but he didn’t notice it until it swelled up on him last night.”

“Really.”

“You’re in the clear, Kotter. It never happened.”

“Thanks, Randie.”

“Everything going okay today?”

“So far.”

“Be alert at the tournament tonight. If anybody wants to hurt Papa or Alie, Penn’s story is the sort of thing that can spook them into trying something desperate.”

***

The tournament was a mob scene of reporters. They weren’t interested when it was just some little hick event, but the news about Papa de Ville changed all of that.

Papa, of course, was furious. He had been miffed when the press was minimal, but now he wanted it to go away. Papa should have learned the lesson I did:
Be careful what you wish for. Sometimes you need to be specific.

Alie departed from her routine, staying at the College Inn as late as she could to try to avoid the media horde. Sam Van Doren helped me get her from the cruiser through a gauntlet of reporters to the locker room. Alie kept her eyes down and ignored the shouted questions.

I took up my courtside post and scanned the crowded bleachers. There’s nothing like scandal to pull the people in. The only empty seats in the place were in Papa de Ville’s box. He finally rushed in just moments before Alie finished her warmup. The mayor was with him, and so were a couple of cops.