Key West (27 page)

Chris rested a forearm on his thigh and leaned his head as close to Sonnie’s as he could. His next question had to be carefully posed. “If you talked out of turn about Frank, what would you say?”

She turned until she could look at him. “I won’t talk about Frank. I don’t even know if he’s alive or dead. I’ve got to respect him until he can defend himself.”

What she said—if she said anything—wouldn’t be so great.
So he felt good about that? He was only human. “Give me something else to go on.”

“I’m asking too much of you, but stick with me, Chris. Be with me. How can a person explain something they feel in their gut? You asked me once about going to the police. Now you see what a waste of time that would be. I just have to keep my eyes open all the time, keep waiting for someone to make a move on me. I talk about being well and strong, but I’ve got a way to go before that’s completely true. You’ve said you’ll help me. Now I want to make this a business arrangement, the way it should be. I’ll pay you a salary. You can have your own rooms, just like I suggested. You’ll be my bodyguard and my extra brain—you’ll at least try to help me keep myself alive.”

A flash of anger fizzled under the fear she struck into him. He didn’t ask permission to gather her hair at her nape and pull her face to his. When his mouth met hers, Sοnnie’s eyes were closing and she panted lightly. His own eyes were shut tight when the thought occurred to him that this was a first. He hadn’t kissed a woman this many times without doing a lot more since he was a kid and afraid of getting slapped.

Sonnie left him in no doubt that she liked being kissed by him. She found her way inside the neck of his shirt and played with the hair on his chest. The tips of her fingers touched every feature on his face as if she was fascinated by the form of him. Chris’s grasp went to her waist and narrow rib cage. The sensation that he could swing her up into his arms and bear her away intrigued him, made him feel strong and protective. He liked the feeling.

Slowly, taking his time to land hard little kisses as he did so, Chris parted his mouth from hers. “Okay,” he told her, breathless. “I’ll be your eyes and ears. But you’re going to have to sit through the kind of interrogation you’ve never sat through. I’ve got to know everything. I’ve got to know things you didn’t know you knew. And you won’t be able to hold back.

“I’ll live in your house. My rooms will have to be very close to yours.”

Sonnie still stared at his mouth. She touched it softly and leaned so close he felt her breath on his lips.

“Are you listening to me?”

She nodded.

“Good. I’m going to be asking questions all over this town, and I may turn up things you’d rather no one ever found out. You understand?”

He got another nod. She inclined her head and brushed his hair back.

“That means I’ll be asking about other people’s impression of your relationship with Frank Giacano.”

Her eyes met his, deeply sad but resigned.

“And if nothing else happens, you’ll be able to stop worrying and carry on with your life.”

“What life?” she asked, and frowned. “I shouldn’t have said that. Of course I’m going to have to get on with things. What I can’t even think about now is how I’ll go about that.”

“Because you may still have a husband?”

“Partly. Partly because I got married before I was ready to take care of myself if I was alone. I don’t have any real skills.”

“Women go back to school all the time.”

“If they know what they want to do.”

He’d never had a conversation like this. “You don’t know what you want to do?”

She plucked at her beige linen pants. “I do know. I always did.”

“So it’s going to be easy.”

“Is it?”

When she raised her eyes to his, she tightened every muscle in his body.

“I want to be the wife of a man who really loves me. And Ι want to have his children, and look after his house, and plant things in the garden. I guess I’m either a throwback or I don’t have any ambition.”

He didn’t remind her that she’d accused him of that sin. “I think you’re wonderful. And you’re going to be the very best at it.”

“Once I thought so.”

“Think so again.”

“Not with Frank.” She sucked her breath in through her teeth and made to get up. Chris stopped her. He pulled her face against his shoulder and just held her.

She made no attempt to move away; rather she settled there and burrowed her forehead beneath his chin.

“This is a strange relationship we have, love. Or some people might think so. Can we put it in my job description that I have a responsibility to comfort you whenever I think you need it?”

“If you like.”

He’d like. He’d like very much. “Do you want Frank to come back?”

Her arms went around his waist and she held him tightly enough to hurt.

“Sonnie? Do you?”

“I want him to return alive. Of course I do.”

“Return to you?”

“I...Don’t ask me that question. Chris, Frank didn’t want the baby. He found pregnant women ugly—disgusting, even. That’s why he left me so quickly when I’d asked him to come home. I asked him because I was so excited about the baby and I hoped the news would make him change.”

“No good, though?”

“No good. He liked the excitement of being on the road—of the tournaments and all the attention he got. He said he’d come back for what he called ‘the proud papa’ pictures. He said they’d play well. His words, not mine. I came to wonder why he’d married me in the first place. Billy would say it was because she’d refused him. That could be true. She brought him home—and Romano. Looking back it was as if she pushed me at him. They were the close ones. They laughed together. Stopped talking if I found them. That sort of thing. I don’t know. He was losing, you know. He’d been losing for some time before he disappeared, but he still went out there and lived the kind of life I would have hated. Parties, gambling—drugs, I think.”

Chris wanted to call the man a fool, but knew better. “But if he comes home you’ll try to be a good wife to him? You’ll be here for him?”

“When the accident happened—that was when he was supposed to come back again—I think he was only coming because he needed money. Maybe a lot of money. I don’t believe he was coming because he missed me.”

“You could be right. But that still isn’t any reason to think someone wanted you to die that night.”

“If I’d died, Frank would have inherited everything, including my trust fund.”

“What are you really suggesting?” Chris held her head away so that he could see her face. “Don’t play with this anymore. Are you saying you think your husband wanted you dead so he could inherit everything?”

She ran her tongue over her lips. “I’m saying it’s one motive someone could have. And I think I’m right where I started when I got here. I believe Edward decided I was one of those women he needed to punish. He’d know from Ena that my baby died. Maybe he blamed me for that, and for something happening to Frank.”

“The guy wasn’t balanced,” Chris admitted. “He obviously hated women.”

“He set me up to be scared. Who knows what he intended to do that night? I don’t want to think about it.”

They regarded each other for a long time. Doubt nagged at him. She’d suffered a head injury. He wasn’t an expert, but those things could mess with a person’s mind, and no matter how much another person wanted it to be otherwise, he supposed paranoia could be the result—and it didn’t have to be curable.

She peered past his shoulder. “Don’t we know someone who bought a car from a
Playboy
bunny?”

He didn’t immediately make the connection. When he did, he grinned and twisted around to see Flynn’s pink Mustang parked under a light in the deserted parking lot. “What can I tell you? Flynn regards that as a work of art. I didn’t know he’d told you it was probably a gift to a
Playboy
bunny. Runs like a Rolls, so he tells me. He’s had a thing for cars like that as long as I’ve known him, and that’s a long time.”

His old partner’s long legs covered ground fast. He bent forward at the waist, peering into what had become almost total darkness.

“He thinks we’re here,” Sonnie said. “Roy and Bo must have told him.”

“You can bet your boots they did. They’re all in cahoots.”

“About what?”

And that, Chris thought, was not an appropriate topic to visit this evening. Sonnie was the subject of the day, not Chris Talon. “They’re following what’s happening to their favorite friend—you. You’ve really found a way into my brother’s hard heart—and Bo’s.”

Aiden Flynn had broken into a run and arrived, silent in tennis shoes, in an amazingly short time. “Bo said—”

“You’d probably find us here,” Chris finished for him, but without rancor. “Join us. We’re watching the sunset.”

“Huh?” Aiden looked over his shoulder and across the Gulf. “There isn’t going to be any sunset tonight. It’s too late, anyway.”

“Is it?” Chris managed to sound surprised.

Aiden cuffed him playfully across the ear. “I need to talk to you, Chris. Our friend Wally was busy today. Let’s get Sonnie somewhere safe and have a chat.”

“You won’t be having any chats without me,” Sonnie said, scrambling to her feet and grabbing Aiden’s sleeve while she bent and stretched her left leg several times. When she put her full weight on her right leg, she screwed up her eyes momentarily. Chris glanced at Aiden. She’d really been beaten up in that crash.

“Why not take it easy at Roy and Bo’s?” Chris said.

“This is all about me, and I want to know anything you’ve found out.”

Chris’s instinct nudged him to find a way to stop her from hearing whatever Flynn had to say.

“Okay by me if it’s okay by Chris,” the ever-helpful Flynn said.

“It’s okay with Chris—isn’t it?”‘ she said in a tone that dared him to argue.

“Sure,” he said. “There’s a bench over there. I doubt if there’s anywhere much more private. Lead on, Flynn.”

The man went to the bench and flopped down at once. He popped up again as Sonnie approached and waited until she sat to join her. Chris remained standing.

“I’m worn out,” Flynn said. “Would you believe I haven’t eaten in hours?”

“No. We’d better do something about that—after you spill whatever you’ve dug up.”

Flynn cleared his throat. “There’s no make on Edward Miller. Not a damn thing outside what the police found at that place next door to Sonnie’s. They’re furious. Kinda enjoyed that. The gent appeared on the earth in Miami—fully grown and apparently in his forties. That’s all. Not another thing.”

“Shit,” Chris muttered. “I’d feel better if we could trace him.”

“Wouldn’t we all? I didn’t say I’d give up.”

“What else?”

“Wally got to go talk to the local Medical Examiner this afternoon. He was in the mood to discuss his work. Seems he had a notable customer recently.”

Chris heard Sonnie make a soft sound. He’d rather she didn’t go through this, but she’d been determined not to miss anything. “You can explain how you managed that later. Anything interesting?”

“I saw the record. Some really impressive candid shots, too. Apparently fairly healthy white male. Won’t bother you with the preliminary stuff. Standard
T
opening—”

“Cut it out,” Chris said.

“The Medical Examiner had done that, and it wasn’t pretty, I can tell—”

“Don’t tell us. It’s time you grew up.”

“You’re terrible, Aiden,” Sonnie said with an unconvincing laugh. At least she restored a little of Chris’s confidence. He didn’t want a fainting female on his hands.

“Not a’tall,” Flynn said. “Just revealing all, like himself told me to. Okay, me darlin’s, Edward Miller was supposed to burn in that fire. I don’t know exactly what went wrong, although there is talk of a gas can being found. Probably supposed to make a really good job of the barbecue.”

Chris gave up trying to control Flynn. He’d always been a sick bastard in these situations. His way of dealing with what was beyond acceptable, some had said.

“The fire was started—or so they’re almost sure—above the ceiling in that room. Apparently they found evidence to that effect in the attic. The intention was that when it reached Miller, it would shortly make contact with the gas and there you are. Toast. Only something went wrong, and although the cigarette they left alight in the sleeping bag did some damage, the gas was never touched by the fire.”

“Couldn’t he have crawled out?” Sonnie asked. She breathed hard. “Or did he die from the smoke?”

“Nope,” Flynn said, finding Chris’s face in the gloom and raising his own brows. “Amazing what those pathologists can find. He probably went in willingly. He had friends who helped him, but they didn’t fill him in on all the details they had in mind. You got a cigarette, Chris?”

“You don’t smoke anymore.” Flynn used to smoke until he saw a pair of blackened lungs at the autopsy of a Harlem pimp.

“So I don’t,” Flynn said. “Even toughies like me get jumpy sometimes. Edward Miller was a smoke screen. At least that’s my take. The question is, whose smoke screen? Medical Examiner found evidence of intravenous shots. Backs of Edward’s arms where he couldn’t have done them himself. Bruises, too, so he struggled. No smoke in the lungs. Tissue samples should be back soon, but they’re already convinced Edward Miller was murdered.”

Nineteen

Aiden recognized impending tragedy when he saw it. The man sharing a table with him at Captain Tony’s showed all the signs of misery in the making. Chris Talon had made his share of mistakes, but his biggest had been to believe that by ducking out on what had been his chosen life, he’d turn himself into someone different.

People didn’t change; they only became more of what they already were. Chris had never talked about his childhood, but Aiden figured the man was a graduate of something tough. The next piece of amateur psychology Aiden had pinned on his buddy was that he’d gone into law enforcement because he was committed to justice—because he hadn’t known much justice himself. And Chris was a man who had loved once, lost that love, and vowed never to put himself in the way of that much pain again.