Black Widow (12 page)

29

For most of the dinner, Stanton and Heidi discussed her sister. Heidi was insisting that she come along on the date and Stanton declined. This was an exploratory mission for him. Something to get a feel for Heather, and nothing more.

But once the decision had been made, they spoke about other things. About why she’d become a doctor—her father had been one and she had seen him save a man who had suffered a stab wound on the streets of Manhattan—why she moved to Hawaii, and, a subject that she brought up, why she wasn’t married.

“Just never found the right man,” she said, taking a bite of a dish of Kobe beef with cream and carrot shavings. “What about you?”

“Married once, engaged once.”

“What happened with the engagement?”

Stanton hesitated, pretending that he was concentrating on cutting his prosciutto-wrapped salmon. “She didn’t like the line of work I was in.”

“Really? I would think all women would want to be with a man that knows how to protect them.”

“Not if they work eighty hours a week and then bring their work home with them.”

She took a sip of wine, not removing her eyes from his. “That must be hard. Seeing what you see. I mean, I see a lot, too. But I couldn’t even imagine dealing with crime scenes every day.”

“The crime scenes aren’t the difficult parts. The hospital visits with survivors are hard. Seeing what these men have done to them, tried to do to them. But the worst of it is the videos. When you actually have to watch it happen. Those are images that never leave you.” He took a bite of his salmon, and it tasted like lemon rind. “I’d grown desensitized, but didn’t realize how desensitized, until this jury trial I had. It was a rape of a six-month-old baby that the pedophile had filmed. Back when I was in Sex Crimes. We played the video for the jury, and they all cried. Every one of them. Even this big trucker with marine tattoos over his forearms. Afterward, on another case, the judge told us on a break that one of the jurors on that case had to be committed, and the juror had called and asked if the court would be willing to pay for it. It hit me then that I deal with things that, not only people don’t see, they don’t think exist. They don’t know what people do.”

“But there has to be some
joy in it, too. When you finally catch the monster.”

“I was just discussing this with… someone else. I don’t think there is
joy or beauty in evil. How can there be? Even after I catch him it’s a momentary release for the family. It doesn’t heal. That type of wound doesn’t go away.”

“But in that moment, there’s beauty. And that’s all life really is. A series of beautiful moments.”

They were silent a long while.

“You should know, my sister is smarter than you. She’s smarter than me. Her IQ, when she was committed, was tested at over two hundred. Do you know what they call someone with an IQ over two hundred?”

“An unmeasurable super-genius. Meaning their intelligence quotient can’t be measured by the current tests we have.”

“That’s right. How did you know that?”

“I have a doctorate in psychology.”

She stared at him. “You have a PhD and you’re a cop?”

“I got sick of grading papers,” he said with a grin.

When dinner was over, they said goodbye and Stanton got into his jeep. That final moment outside was awkward and Stanton knew she felt it, too. Neither of them comprehended whether this was a type of date or not, and they talked outside the restaurant for a long time. Stanton guessed neither of them knew how it should end. He considered a quick kiss on the cheek. He
stopped himself, and he wondered if she noticed.

As he drove home, he couldn’t help but think that if they’d met somewhere different…

But he pushed the thought out of his mind. What was the use in thinking thoughts like that? As he pulled to a stop in front of a stoplight, he thought instead about Heidi’s sister. He still had the address to the escort agency.

He flipped around and headed toward Baby Dolls.

As Stanton drove on the interstate, his cell phone rang. It was a 772 area code.

“This is Jon.”

“Jon, Clyde, man. How are ya?”

Stanton took his exit and had to wait at a light at the bottom of the off-ramp. “Good. What is it, like midnight over there?”

“I was up anyway. Listen, I interviewed your chick today. Mrs. Alex Waters. Or the former, I should say.”

“And?”

“Solid alibi, man. She was at a high school reunion with her current husband. At least fifty people could verify it. So she was having an affair, but don’t think she’s good on the murder.”

“Did she say why Alex was in Hawaii?”

“In her words, ‘to visit his whore.’ I don’t think they were on the best of terms when he passed. She said they had an open marriage and she was in love with her current husband. He was in love with someone else.”

“Who?”

“The whore. She was pretty colorful describing her.”

“It’s not hyperbole. He was visiting a prostitute.”

“Oh, well, that makes more sense.”

The light changed, and Stanton drove forward and turned down a street with several fast food restaurants. “Anything else you picked up that could help me, Clyde?”

“She did have access to his calendar on his iPad. He forgot to take it with him. She said on the day he was killed he had an appointment set for eight p.m. with an ‘HR.’”

“HR? Were there any notes or anything?”

“Nope. Just HR.”

“I really appreciate this, Clyde. If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.”

“Hey, cops are cops. No matter where we are. But I’m serious about Alaska.”

“So am I. Let me know when you’re available.”

“You got it. Take care of yourself, Jon.”

Stanton placed the phone down on the seat. The drive was pleasant as he passed the commercial district and entered a stretch of jungle in between that and the residential neighborhoods. He rolled down his window and enjoyed the night air, and thought of Heidi.

If what she was saying was true, he couldn’t imagine the pain, or the strength, she must have. A stalker was one of the most traumatic experiences a woman could go through, and Heidi had had one her entire life. Stanton had an urge to throw his arms around her. To shield her from all the things in life she’d been through. But he knew he couldn’t. He tried to do it with his boys, too. But the world had a way of seeping in no matter how much you tried to protect the people you love.

As he’d figured, Baby Dolls was open. The lights were on and he saw a couple of beautiful women in tight dresses leaving. He parked the jeep and went inside. Autumn, the owner he’d spoken to before, was at a desk on the computer.

“Detective! What a surprise. Your appointment isn’t until Tuesday.”

He sat across from her. “I was hoping I could see her now.”

“She isn’t here. It’s Friday night. Our busiest.”

“I would really like to see her. Any idea where she would be?”

She leaned back in her chair. “I can’t divulge that, Detective. A person interrupting a date would be just rude. A policeman interrupting a date is the kind of thing people in my business go bankrupt over.”

“She’s killed two people in the last month. Don’t you care?”

“Of course I care. I care about all our clients. We thrive on repeat business and word of mouth. But there’s nothing I can do about that now. So I just have to take care of my business however I can.”

Stanton noticed a figurine on her desk. It was of Bat Girl. “She’s going to kill again. I’m trying to save your business and your clients… Have you spoken to her about me?”

“No. If she did kill those men, I want you to arrest her. I can’t have that here. You do your investigation. I won’t interfere. But I hope you show me the same respect and understand why I can’t reveal where she is.”

Stanton nodded. “Tuesday then.” He rose to leave.

“Detective, you sure you don’t want to sample my product? You seem uptight and tense. Sexual healing, and all.”

“The healing happens from the connection to the other person, not the sex. Thanks anyway.”

Stanton left. On the way out to the jeep, a girl was entering the building. She was young, in jeans and a T-shirt. She knocked, and Autumn opened the door and welcomed her in. Stanton drove away without looking back.

30

On Saturday morning,
the boys woke up early and jumped on Stanton, waking him up, too. They insisted they go to Waikiki Beach. Johnny pushed the hardest and Stanton knew Mathew had put him up to it. Saturdays on Waikiki had the largest groups of young women gathered. Mathew would go with his friends, and Johnny would try and tag along. Once he realized they were chasing girls rather than actually surfing, he would come back to his father and they would spend the day together.

Stanton had a shower, a ritual he needed in the morning, despite the fact that he would have to take one after the beach anyhow, and then dressed in surfing shorts and a T-shirt. He made breakfast for the boys and ate with them. They talked about school and things that were going on in their lives.

As they drove down to the beach, Mathew wore sunglasses and sat in the passenger seat. Trying his hardest to appear older than he was. He forced Stanton to blare a song on Pandora by someone called Lil Wayne. Stanton listened to it until he used profanity and then turned it to the One Direction station. Mathew pretended to vomit into the center console.

Waikiki Beach was packed though it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. Stanton found parking nearby and they retrieved the three surfboards out of the back. They all went to the bathrooms and changed into their wetsuits, but before Stanton could even suggest they try and grab a set, Mathew said he was leaving with his friends.

“Stay close,” Stanton said.

“I will.”

“And no frontside airs. It’s windy today.”

“Alr
ight,” Mathew groaned.

“I’m serious,
Matty.”

“I said al
right.”

Stanton watched him go with his friends. Their surfboards were essentially just decoration. They hadn’t discovered the beauty of the ocean yet. Of connecting with something greater than yourself. For them, it was an exercise in getting girls.

“I’ll come with you, Daddy.”

Stanton tousled his youngest son’s hair. “I know, buddy. Well, let’s grab a set before it gets too
windy.”

As the days with his sons usually did, it ended too early. Though they’d spent four hours at the beach, it went by in the blink of an eye, and Stanton wanted to stay longer. But Mathew had baseball and Johnny was exhausted. They climbed back into the jeep and grabbed some burgers before heading home.

Stanton got in a nap, too. He had a hammock set up in the backyard and he slept there now with a lemonade on the grass underneath him. At times like this, he couldn’t imagine why he had ever wanted to live anywhere else.

His phone rang and woke him up. It was his ex-wife.

“Hi, Mel.”

“How are my boys?”

“Good. Matty’s at baseball and Johnny’s inside, asleep.”

“Are they doing okay, Jon? Do they miss me?”

“Of course they miss you.” He crossed one foot over the other. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.”

“I know when you’re doing fine and when you’re not.”

She paused. “We’re divorcing.”

Stanton was silent a moment. He had met her new husband, a pro-ball player Melissa had met at her job as a personal trainer, exactly once. The other man had tried to intimidate him by squeezing his hand too hard in a handshake. “I’m so sorry.”

“We’ve just grown apart. It’s no one’s fault. Don’t tell the boys yet, though.”

“I won’t.”

An awkward silence lasted a few seconds before Melissa said, “The reason they moved with you is that they didn’t like the situation here. Now that situation is changing…”

“No, Mel. They love it here. The sunshine and the jungles and the ocean… it’s good for them. You can’t rip them away from this. We’ve put them through enough.”

“I want them with me.”

“In Florida?”

“No. I’m moving back to Boston to be closer to my parents. It’s always been home to me.”

“But not to them. They won’t want to go. Mathew’s almost eighteen. He won’t leave. And Johnny needs to stay with him.” Stanton hesitated. “Why don’t you move out here?”

Another silence.

“Jon…”

“I’m not saying let’s get back together. I’m just saying move out here. Be closer to them. They need their mother. But they need this island, too.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Stanton reached down for the lemonade but couldn’t get it. Rather than getting out of the hammock, he swung it enough that he could grab the lip of the glass and lift it up to him.

“I’ll keep an eye out for places,” he said.

“Thanks. Have the boys call me when they get up.”

Stanton closed his eyes and tried to sleep again, but it wouldn’t come. The thought of his ex-wife living nearby was comforting, in a way. Having someone to help him with the boys, to truly help him, wasn’t unwelcome. He was doing the best he could but he knew there were certain things only a mother could give to her son. He didn’t want his boys missing out on that.

He checked his watch and saw he had already slept for two and a half hours. He decided to get up. Suzanne would no doubt be ready for their date early.