Port Starbird (Storm Ketchum Adventures) (11 page)

She still wasn't asking him where he'd been - so were they still keeping things simple
then? He hoped so. But then again, it occurred him to wonder, how 'simple' was going to someone's house unannounced and uninvited and waiting out on the deck for who knows how long? But he still didn't mind.

"Not at all," he replied. "And you can sleep wherever you want
, in case you're wondering about that. I'm not expecting anything. I'm tired too." He stood up, stretched, and yawned. "I need a shower, though, before I do anything else. So if you'll excuse me for a few minutes?"

"Sure, no problem. A shower? I could use one myself
." Brightening a bit, she added, "Hey, mind if I join y'all?" Before the slightly flustered Ketch could answer, she got up and said, "Oh, don't be shy now, come on!" and headed off to the master bedroom, beckoning him to follow.

When they came out of the shower, the dog shuffled into the bedroom and curled up on his bed, and Kari got into Ketch's bed. With a little continued encouragement that had begun in the shower, he was pleased to discover he wasn't quite as exhausted as he'd thought - though he did basically pass out almost immediately afterward. But this time he woke in the morning before she did.

And considerably earlier than the last time as well, which was good since he had a lot to do today. Although the number he'd stored the night before was already flashing in his mind, she was curled up at his side and still breathing evenly, with an arm and a leg draped across him and her face resting on his outstretched arm, so he didn't try to get up right away. Instead, he tried to relax and enjoy the moment.

But even w
ith her rhythmic exhalations tickling his skin, and the light of the barely risen sun just beginning to poke through the blinds to illuminate the dust motes circulating beneath the slowly rotating blades of the ceiling fan, he couldn't help recalling the last time he'd truly savored an interlude like this one. Although there'd been a couple of casual flings in between over the years, it had been a very long time.

His wife had
been younger and tantalizingly delightful for a while, just like this one, but the honeymoon had ended even before the birth of his son. The eventual split hadn't been amicable and she'd somehow managed to gain full custody. After his career had taken him to another state, he hadn't had as much opportunity to spend time with the boy as he would have liked, and after a while the boy hadn't wanted him to anyway. Ketch knew he'd gone to college and he should have been out a year ago, or maybe two; but he hadn't been invited to any celebrations. He wondered if the boy had actually graduated, and if so whether he'd decided to go on to a postgraduate school of some kind.

And then he decided to stop wondering. What will be will be, and the past will never change and it's pointlessly crippling to try to live in it. There are at least three things in life you can't ever get back, he reflected - words you've said, time you've wasted, and ephemeral moments like this. And maybe fine wine if you leave it w
here this one can find it.

He
let his appreciative eyes wander down the length of the naked and now softly ochre body lying next to him in apparent blissful oblivion - and saw that an ugly-looking bruise had formed on the upper arm lying on his chest. Why hadn't he noticed that earlier? They'd only used a night light when they'd showered and then it had been completely dark after that, and granted his mind had been on other things - but still... Had he somehow done that to her?

She stirred
next to him, and he saw her face contort into a frown. Her eyes remained closed, but her lips started moving. He leaned his head down a little closer to hear what she was saying. It sounded like, "I'll get it, I'll get it..." Her eyes suddenly flew open and scanned their surroundings in a momentary panic.

"Oh, hey..." she said, then smiled up at him. "Good mornin'!" She gave him a hug and sat up
and stretched. Ketch thought he detected a wince as she extended the bruised arm. "I'll be right back, hear? Nature calls," she said, padding off to the bathroom. Ketch didn't know if he was supposed to stay put, but said Nature then answered that question for him and he got up as well, gave the dog a pat, and hurried out to the other bath. Fortunately there was a bottle of mouthwash in there, which he also took advantage of.

By the time he returned she was already back in bed and under the covers. "Hey, get back in here," she directed, "I'm cold!"

He was not, but he did as he was told. The blood runs thinner when you live down South, he knew. He'd seen the natives dress in layers when the temperature dropped to a point where he only considered maybe not wearing shorts. He'd thought the scuba diving season would be longer here, too, but most of them wouldn't even go in with a wetsuit until the water temperature got up into the eighties, whereas sixty-five was tolerable to him, and even less with the right gear. He guessed he just hadn't lived here long enough yet.

"That's better," she said, wrapping herself around him
to utilize his body heat. He responded quickly - and so did she, he noticed. "Hey, I forgot to thank you for buyin' that soap and shampoo and all. You're gettin' to be quite the ladies' man now, huh?" she teased. "Okay, so how about I cook us up some eggs? You got eggs?"

"
Yes. How'd you get that bruise?" he responded.

"Oh, this here, on my arm? Don't worry, you didn't do it," she said. "I just bumped into somethin' is all."
He didn't believe her, but then she threw back the covers and began to straddle him. "Life's short, dessert first," she said. "Let's just take care of this real quick, and then I'll get to those eggs. It won't take long."

She was right, it didn't take very long at all
, and he could tell she wasn't faking. He was amazed - this just kept getting better and better. When they were both done she got up and pulled on another shirt from his closet.

"Okay, I'll get to work in the kitchen," she said.
"Hey, you want coffee?"

"No thanks," Ketch replied. "I don't drink it. I've found I have expensive tastes. I can tolerate it if it's outrageously expensive, but even then I don't like it enough to bother with it. But you go ahead. There's a coffeemaker on the counter."

"Gotcha. Say, you probably want to let Jack out, right? When you do, could you please bring in that bag I left on the back seat in my car?"

Ketch dressed quickly and again did as instructed. When he opened the back door of
her car he saw what appeared to be an overnight bag - no, more than just an overnight bag. It wasn't completely zipped, and he could see it contained multiple changes of clothing and various other sundries.

"Jack
y, there's somethin' good in your dish! Come on boy!" Kari called when Ketch and the dog reentered the house. The dog trotted into the kitchen to find a bowl of the usual dog food, but this time with a fried egg on top. He stretched out on the floor with his back feet extended and his snout over the dish and began to leisurely feast on this unexpected bounty. He liked having this female here.

Ketch set the bag down
just outside the kitchen, then added the newspaper he'd found on the deck to the ever-growing pile in the basket by the recliner. He was still behind on that, and he realized he also hadn't turned on the flat-screen TV he'd thought he needed even once in the last few days. He wondered if there'd be a Yankee game on this weekend; he'd have to check later.

He went to
the kitchen and took over at the toaster. "Looks like you're planning on staying a while," he commented, nodding toward the bag.

"Oh, I just need
ed somethin' clean for today, and maybe tomorrow," she said. "I'm havin' a little problem at my apartment. The landlord said he'd try to get the exterminator to come out today. If he does, I thought I'd bunk at the shop for a night or two. I can't abide that smell."

A little too
pat? Maybe, maybe not - but Ketch was sensing something off-kilter here, even through the fog of his infatuation. This exterminator story didn't jive with her reaction at first seeing him last night, nor with her remark about simply not feeling like going home; and both that remark and the exterminator bit were inconsistent with the duffel bag, which contained more than a day or two's worth of clothing and was clear evidence of premeditation. The questionable instincts of his fledgling detective alter ego again, like last night?

It was probably
callous of him to be suspicious, and ungrateful as well considering the circumstances. He should just drop it. But he still couldn't help wondering - why didn't she want to go back to her apartment, really? Why did she really come here last night? Where did she get that bruise? What was she mumbling about in her sleep? She still hadn't asked him where he'd been yesterday - and not only did he appreciate that, he also correspondingly respected her own right to privacy. He decided he wouldn't push; if there was something she wanted to talk with him about, she'd bring it up when she was ready. But he thought of an experiment he might try, just to see what happened.

"Nonsense, you don't have to
stay at the shop. I told you, you can stay here whenever you need to." That number four started flashing in his mind again, and it occurred to him that her staying here might crimp his style, so to speak - but he meant what he said. He couldn't let her sleep alone on some old cot in the back of a store.

"I know you did
. It was the second thing you said the other night. See, I told you I wasn't that wasted," she reminded him with a quick smile. "But I didn't want to wear out my welcome, so I wasn't gonna ask."

Right,
he thought - she was instead going to plant a seed and let him work his way around to it on his own, as he'd just done. He was finally starting to learn now how this worked. Or was he just being paranoid? But it was all right with him either way- and he'd be an ingrate to complain, with everything he was getting in return. He made a mental note that they'd have to at some point start working on communicating better with each other, and more honestly, assuming of course his feelings for her were reciprocated. He figured that might come naturally with time, though, and meanwhile putting up with a little subterfuge, if that's what it was, now and then wasn't all that much trouble.

"Well, consider it done,"
he said. "You'll stay here, for as long as you need to."

"Thank you so much!" she said. "I mean it, I gotta admit I wasn't lookin' forward to stayin'
somewhere else. I mean, at the shop, I spend so much time there already as it is." She stopped what she was doing and gave him another hug. This is ridiculous, he thought - he was already ready again. But refusing to let himself be distracted this time, he performed his experiment instead.

"
It's nothing, say no more about it," he said. "And by the way, don't let me forget, before you leave this morning I want to give you a check for that class I signed up for. I'd like to get that out of the way. And I want to pay your individual instructional rate. Your time is valuable, and I don't want to take advantage."

The effect was almost magical. She went completely limp in his arms
, like a helpless rag doll - muscles of hers that he hadn't even known were tensed, and that she might not have known of herself, were no more, and she hugged him even tighter. "Thank you," she said, "God knows, I could use it." She backed away a little and looked up at him. "You've got really good timin', you know that? And I don't just mean with this." Then she looked away and said, "Come on, let's eat."

Small talk occupied the rest of their short time together this morning. Again Ketch didn't press, as he'd earlier resolved not to - but it was apparent to him that her coming into a little money
had made a noticeable difference in her demeanor. She was even more effervescent than usual, and she looked like a weight had been lifted from her.

So was it just a temporary financial reprieve for
the shop that was responsible for this, or did she need the money for something else? 'I'll get it,' he remembered she'd said in her sleep. Get what, money? And for whom? Was this connected with however she'd really gotten that bruise? Was someone 'shaking her down'? Was that the appropriate noir mystery term? And if so, why? Or did her mother need money, maybe for a medical expense or some other kind of emergency? Did Kari herself have a medical problem of some sort? It was all just conjecture at this point. He was sure he'd find out eventually. Meanwhile, it would be interesting to see if she still felt the need to stay at
Port Starbird
with him after she cashed that check. He hoped she would.

While
he was trying to prevent his imagination from running away with him, she finished eating and said, "I better get goin'. You could stop by the shop later if you want. If you've got nothin' else to do, I mean." But he did indeed have things to do - three more, in fact. "Or are you gonna clean your boat today?"

"I should,"
he said, though he knew he wouldn't. "I'll tell you what, I may not be able to get there earlier, but I'll be there by closing time, and I'll bring the tank. Then I'll take you to the Froggy Dog for dinner, how about that?"

"Oh, I'd love that, I haven't been there in ages!
I don't get there much. It's kind of on the expensive side, you know."