Pink Neon Dreams (9 page)

“Shit,”
he said. “You’re scared of heights, aren’t you?”

Cecily
faced him with deep, dark eyes. “I’m not scared of anything. But no, I don’t
like heights much and yes, I’m nervous.”

“Don’t
look down,” he cautioned. “It’ll be over fast once we’re on the slide. At the
bottom, I’ll grab you.
 
You can swim?”

“Oh,
yeah,” she said.
 
Her cheeky grin
returned. “I swim like a fuckin’ mermaid so I won’t drown.”

“Good,”
Daniel said. Although she joked, he felt an odd little pang at the idea
anything could happen to Cecily.
 
He knew
all too well how fast death could strike unexpectedly.
 
By then they were at the top of the stairs and
he followed her into the fast flowing slide.
 
Her yips and shrieks delighted him so much he felt like a kid for those
swift moments until they splashed into the deeper area at the bottom.
 
As he’d promised, Daniel caught her and held
her close for a moment.
 
He wanted a kiss,
but they couldn’t block the way out so he put an arm around her waist
instead.
 
“It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Her
body trembled but she giggled. “No, I made it.
 
But let’s do something else.”

They
strolled around the water park, dripping wet, and when a slight breeze blew
over them it was enough to send a momentary chill through them both.
 
“We forgot to bring towels,” he said with a
chuckle.
 
Almost everyone else sported
colorful beach towels, tied around their waist, draped over their shoulders, or
carried.
 

She
shrugged. “If we need some, they’ve got them in the shop over there.
 
I want to stop and put some sunscreen on or
I’ll get sunburned.
 
You want some?”

Daniel
opened his mouth to tell her ‘no’, to explain his thick skin had weathered sun,
cold, and many other elements, but then he considered she might apply it on his
back.
 
As he imagined her hands rubbing
the cold lotion onto his skin, he changed his mind. “Sure, it’s a good idea.”

At
the next vacant bench they found, Cecily sat down and poured some creamy white
sunscreen into her hands.
 
She rubbed
them together and then massaged up her legs.
 
She smeared some on the tops of her breasts rising out of the suit, on
her throat, shoulders, and face.
 
Then
she turned away from him and said, “Can you smear it on my back? I can’t reach
it.”

Cecily
offered temptation and although Daniel thought he should refuse, he didn’t.
“Sure,” he said.
 
His large hands worked
the lotion into her back, his touch lingering on her light bronze skin.
 
He couldn’t resist a few caresses and once he
let his fingers slide beneath the fabric to stroke her breast. Although she
didn’t say anything, she leaned back into him and sighed, a soft, happy
sound.
 
When he’d done all he could, Daniel
handed her the bottle. “Now it’s my turn,” he said.

“Turn
around, sugar.” Cecily squirted lotion into her hand and rubbed it across his
back.
 
The cool wetness contrasted with
the hot sun beating down onto his skin.
 
Her fingers worked it in with deft motions and then she massaged his
shoulders with a confident, capable touch.
 
Daniel felt his taut muscles ease as she continued.
 
Tension ebbed as her fingers worked magic,
and he wanted to moan with pleasure.
 
It
wasn’t quite erotic, but it still felt damn good.
 
“Oh, God, that’s great,” he said.
 
Eyes shut
tight,
he enjoyed
the moment and almost forgot they were in a public place.
 
When she finished, he failed to notice for a
few moments and then opened his eyes to brilliant sunlight.
 
Blinded, he stood up. “Thanks.
 
Let’s float the lazy river.”

He
grabbed an inner tube at the entrance point and handed her one.
 
She sat down into the ring and headed down
river into the current.
 
Daniel parked
his rear on his and followed Cecily.
 
The
cement channel offered enough depth to keep people afloat without dragging
bottom and just enough momentum to keep moving.
 
Already relaxed from her massage, Daniel thought the languid float might
put him to sleep.
 
He struggled to remain
alert as he relished the experience.
 

Ahead
of him, Cecily called back something but he couldn’t make out the words.
 
They rode the river for a full three loops
before she stood up and mouthed something he didn’t hear.
 
Then she strode out of the water onto the
edge.
 
He followed and caught up. “Hey,”
he said.

She
understood his inquiry. “I’m going to the ladies’,” she said and pointed.
“After, I thought we’d try out the wave pool.”

“Sure,”
he said and hoped she hadn’t realized how close he came to dozing.

In
the wave pool, Cecily plunged out into the deepest area before the first series
of artificially generated waves struck with force.
 
Daniel hadn’t expected such a powerful rush
and lost his footing until he floundered in the water.
 
Cecily, caught swimming, rode the wave with a
triumphant grin.
 
She rolled past him and
waded back.
 
They spent a half hour,
fifteen minutes too long for his taste in the wave pool.
 
After the first two series of waves, Daniel
decided the pool was overrated.
 
By the
time they left it to return to the lazy river, his body ached from being
pummeled with force.
 
They spent the rest
of their time until the park closed on the lazy river, floating in tandem,
close enough to talk and often touch.

At
the end of the day, he bought them each a neon hued bath sheet. After they’d
dried off and changed back into their street clothes, Cecily tied up the wet
suits into a neat package.
 
The warm
seats of the Ford provided comfort.
 
“Ah,” he sighed.
 
Daniel glanced
at her, curled into the passenger seat, head back, eyes shut. “Did you have
fun, Cecily?”

“Oh,
yeah,” she said. “I loved every minute.
 
Thank you, Daniel.”

“Sure,”
he replied, somehow embarrassed by her thanks.
“So, what now?
Do you want me to take you to get your car or grab a bite or what?”

Her
eyes popped open. “I forgot about my car,” she said with a dazed wonder.
“Shit.
 
I hope it’s still there.”

Daniel
squelched a professional urge to gloat.
 
If she had any clue about the auto theft stats, she’d squeal louder. “It
is,” he said. “I looked when we went past earlier.”

“I
guess I need to go get the damn car or I won’t have a ride to the shop in the
morning,” Cecily said. “Otherwise I’d ask you to come home and I’d fix
something to eat.”

Why can’t she do it anyway?
Aloud, he said, “I’d love
it.
 
I’m starving and I’d rather eat at
your house than a restaurant.
 
I live on
fast food, frozen
junk,
and canned stuff at home.”

“I’ll
do you better than any of that crap,” she said. “The one thing I know I can do
is cook.
 
Why don’t you come on back with
me, then, and I’ll whip up something.
 
It’ll be good, I promise.”

He
should refuse and he knew it.
 
He’d gone
too far already.
 
If his supervisors
should learn of his intimacy and down time with the subject of his
investigation, Daniel’s career would suffer.
 
There’d be a reprimand, at the least.
 
But Cecily intoxicated him like liquor.
 
He basked in her presence and ached for more on both a physical and
emotional level.
 
She reminded him of the
man he’d once been, stirred his ashes back to life.
 
“Sure,” he replied.
 
“On the way I need to swing by the motel and
pick up some clean clothes.
 
My shirt
reeks of sunscreen.”

“No
problem,” Cecily said. “Before or after I get my car?”

“Before,”
Daniel said. “The motel’s on the way.”

Until
he turned into the place he’d almost forgotten what a total dump it was.
 
The single story cinder block structure
might’ve been nice sometime around 1968 or so, but time hadn’t been kind.
 
The place could use a paint job, and Daniel
suspected half the other ‘guests’ lived here, year round.
  
When he checked into room six, dust film
coated the scarred dresser with the beat-up analog television set, and stale
air hung heavy in the space.
 
“I’ll be
right back,” he said as he parked.

Her
lips puckered into a pout. “I can come with you.”

“God,
no,” he said. “It’s a hell hole.
 
I’ll be
right back.”

Two
steps into the
room,
he heard his cell phone beep and
picked it up to check for messages.
 
His
boss, Special Agent
In
Charge, Andrew Martin, had left
two and with a guilty twinge for leaving the phone behind, Daniel listened to
the brief message and then dialed Martin.

“Hey,
it’s Padilla,” he said. “What’s up?”

“That’s
exactly what I’d like to know.
 
Did you
find Ms. Brown?”

“Yeah,
I’ve located her. She just opened a little boutique in Branson.”
 
Stick
to the truth and keep it basic.

“And?”

“I
haven’t got much else, yet.
 
I thought
I’d go shopping Monday and see if I can get a good impression of her, scope out
the place.”

“Sounds
like a plan, but don’t spook her.
 
I
don’t want her to run, Padilla.
 
So far,
we haven’t identified any other possible suspects in her ex-husband’s murder or
the jewel theft so I need her available, understand?”

“Yeah,
I do.”
And it sounds like you’ve judged
her without evidence, a trial, or a jury which is too fucking
bad
because I think she’s as innocent as a little girl
making first communion.

“Good.
Keep in touch, Padilla.
 
After you visit
her shop Monday, call me.”

“Will
do,” Daniel said.
 
During the phone call,
he’d gathered up clean clothes, his shaving kit, toothbrush, and a few other
essentials.
 
After he ended the call, he
shut off the phone but tucked it into his pocket.
 
Sooner or later, he had a lot of explaining
to do—both to Martin and to Cecily.

The
lazy afternoon in the sun and water leached away most of his tension.
 
Despite the brief phone call, Daniel remained
more laidback than he could remember being for ages.
 
He dropped her off at Pink Neon to pick up
her car and trailed her back to her house. As he drove, fatigue crept over him,
a good kind of tired and he relished the feeling.

At
Cecily’s house, she took a quick shower.
 
She reappeared wearing a sleeveless sun dress and headed for the kitchen
but paused for a moment. “You stay out until I tell you supper’s ready,” she said.
“I can’t cook with someone underfoot.”

“You
mind if I take a shower?”

“I
don’t mind at all,” she told him with a warm look. “Take your time.
 
You look tired, sugar.”

“I
am,” he admitted with a grin.

“So
stretch out on the couch if you want,” she said. “Just be sure you take off
your shoes.”

Daniel
laughed, pleased with her sass and spunk.
 
He showered, shaved, and put on clean clothing.
 
Domestic sounds issued from the kitchen, the
rattle of pans, the noise of utensils put to use, and Cecily humming as she
worked.
 
He surveyed the small living
room, sparse as his own place, and sprawled on the couch.
 
The large crushed gold velvet sofa had to be
decades old but appeared to be gently worn.
 
He tucked a purple throw pillow under his head and exhaled as he got
comfortable.
 

Before
sleep crept into his consciousness, he noted the lack of personal touches.
 
No framed photographs graced the bare, off-white
walls.
 
Cecily hadn’t hung any mirrors or
decorative accents.
 
Daniel hadn’t seen a
single knick-knack or figurine.
 
There
weren’t any fresh or artificial flowers on display.
 
A jar candle sat on top of the entertainment
center and he suspected she’d burned it for the pleasant scent.
 
He sniffed the air and decided it must’ve
been rose fragrance.
 
Her bathroom had a
hair dryer plugged into the sole outlet and there’d been a few health and
beauty items sitting out on the counter but no other decoration.
 
Although it had been dark and he’d been
preoccupied, her bedroom lacked anything but a bed, a nightstand with a lamp,
and a single straight chair.
 
If he
didn’t know better, he’d swear this was a safe house or that Cecily was a new
member of the witness protection program.
 
She didn’t bring anything from her
previous life along, no pictures, no memorabilia, and no favorite things.