The Twelfth Of Never: A suspense mystery romantic thriller (19 page)

"Do you want to tell me first? Christ, I came back from
the studio after sitting for Benjamin and the place was torn apart. What was he
looking for anyway?"

Jenny looked around the room, "Beats me," is all she
mustered up to say.

Jenny did not want to tell Trish anything about Delaney or the
envelope she had. She only hoped Benjamin had not told her anything either. The
fewer people who knew about it, the better off she was. Jenny was beginning to
suspect there was more meaning to what she had than just a simple gathering
like she originally thought.

Trish tossed the rag on the couch, and then quickly added,
"I'm sick of all this cleaning."

"How far did you get?" Jenny asked.

"The bedroom."

"Did you find any of John's letters? They were on the bed
when I left last evening."

"No. There was nothing like that lying around."

"He took them," Jenny said. She was angry. They were
the only link she had left of John, and now that was gone too. All that
remained were her memories.

"Life sucks," Trish said. "Benny told me about
the guy in the hospital room."

Jenny glanced at her and then said. "Benny? When did you
become buddies?"

"After we talked in the park yesterday. I realized there
was a lot to Benjamin that I was overlooking before."

"I wish he hadn't mentioned the hospital and what happened.
He didn't say anything else, did he?" Jenny watched Trish for a hint that
she knew more, but saw nothing in her expression.

"No. What shouldn't he tell me?"

"Trish, the less you know, the better off you are."

Jenny did not say anything more. She thought about Gideon, and
the conversation on the phone. Soon she would have to do something with the
envelope at the studio. She even thought about mailing it to the police, but
how could she be sure they would take it seriously? The only other alternative
was to give it to Gideon.

CHAPTER 19

Trish left around eight, after spending the afternoon and
early evening cleaning. She used the lame excuse about Benjamin wanting to
paint her by the evening light. Jenny did not mind; all she wanted was to be
left alone. The apartment was almost clean and the couch was carried down to
the dumpster out back. There were only a few pieces of furniture scattered
around the apartment that Benjamin had brought over from his studio. It would
have to do for now.

Jenny walked into the bedroom to collect the trash when she
heard a knock at the door. She did not need or want company. All she wanted to
do was ignore the knock, but then it came again. She picked up the bags,
carried them into the living room, and then opened the door.

"Trish said you were alone up here." Mrs. Bennett
raised the cans of soda in her hand.

"You're a welcome sight," Jenny lied.

Mrs. Bennett looked at Jenny and then shook her head.
"You look a mess." Mrs. Bennett glanced beyond Jenny into the
apartment. "Almost as bad as the apartment," she added.

Jenny brushed off her face with the back of her hand.
"Thanks, I needed that," she said, stepping aside to let her landlady
in.

"The police were taking statements all last evening. They
were back again this morning."

"I only hope they catch who did this."

Mrs. Bennett handed Jenny a soda. "Here, it looks like
you need this."

"What I could use is a stiff drink," Jenny replied.

"I've got the fixings downstairs." She turned as if
to leave.

"No. I was just kidding," Jenny quickly added, and
then glanced around. "I would offer you a place to sit..."

"I saw the couch in the dumpster."

Jenny shook her head. "If I get my hands on him... "

"Jenny, I didn't come up here to talk to you about the
apartment," Mrs. Bennett stammered for a while until she found the right
words. "Benjamin told me about John," she finally said. "I just
thought you might want to talk about it."

"In time, maybe." Actually John was the last thing
on her mind right then.

Mrs. Bennett set her can of soda down, and then took Jenny in
her arms. "I'm sorry. I know how much you wanted him to return."

Jenny sighed. "Deep down, I guess I knew all along he
wasn't coming back."

"There was always hope," Mrs. Bennett quickly added.

Jenny shrugged her shoulders. "I find it hard to believe
I'm left waiting all these years with the government insisting he was missing
in action. And then, in the past twenty-four hours two men come forward and
tell me he is dead. One claims to have been with him at the end."

"Look at it this way, at least you know."

"It doesn't make me feel any better, though."

Mrs. Bennett took hold of Jenny's hand and held it firm.
"Who is this man Benjamin's been telling me about? He took you away last
night."

"I don't even know how to explain his involvement. It has
something to do with the man who was using John's identity. I think he was in
trouble with the government for some reason. No one really cleared that up, and
so much has happened recently I forgot to ask."

The two women talked for almost an hour, and then Jenny
finally excused herself. There was still a lot to do and very little time to
get it done.

Once Jenny was alone she walked over to the sketches on the
coffee table. She shoved her sketch aside and then picked up the one of John.
She kneeled on the floor to assess the damage. Part of the face was smudged,
and Jenny was afraid Benjamin might not be able to fix it. A tear rolled down
her cheek as she traced her finger on the contour of the parchment. All the old
memories came flooding back, the walks in the park and the picnic lunches.
There was a heavy sadness in her heart that would not let go.

Jenny shut her eyes and tried to remember what it was like to
be in his arms. Tears flowed, but unlike those in the past, she was saying
goodbye. There would never be a tomorrow for them. She missed John, and was
angry that Delaney and Gideon made it back, but he did not. It hurt to think of
him buried over there, forgotten by everyone but her.

Suddenly she felt claustrophobic. She found it difficult to
breathe or stay in the apartment that held so many memories of the man she
loved. The need to get out and get some fresh air was overpowering, but she did
not know where she would go, all she knew was she could not stay. Quickly she
grabbed her sweater and rushed out. Jenny ran down the stairs, passing Mrs.
Bennett's door. The warm September air felt good on her face as she walked out
of the apartment building. The streets were full of people even at that hour of
the night. It was not until she crossed the street and the park loomed in front
of her that she realized what it was she was running to. It was the memories of
all the good times the park held. She wanted to relive them all one last time.

The park was dark, and the night-dwellers had taken over,
along with some students, but mostly people with nowhere else to go. In recent
years she avoided the park after dark because of the seedy characters who hung
about. She almost took the perimeter, avoiding the park altogether, but then
quickly decided against that. She was too engrossed in her thoughts to notice
anyone. As she neared the center of the park, she heard footsteps behind her.
Jenny stopped and looked around, but saw nothing. When she walked again, she
heard the noise from behind, and then when she stopped, it stopped.

Jenny instantly regretted walking through the park and feared
the person in the hospital room. Quickly she walked down the path. Once she
reached the fountain Jenny suddenly veered around the statue and hid in the
bushes. It was clear she could not lose whomever it was who followed. Besides,
she was curious. Although it was dark, there was still enough light. She
crouched and waited for a few moments. When the footsteps neared the statue,
she made her move.

Quickly she sprang out. "What do you want?" Jenny
yelled.

Gideon drew his weapon at the voice from the shadows. His
knees bent, his body arched in ready position. He stood with both hands on the
dark piece of metal. Just ten feet separated him from the girl of his dreams.

Jenny did not move for fear Gideon would pull the trigger. The
expression on his face sent chills through her body. His eyes mesmerized her,
and even in the darkness she could see the dark circles haloed by white.

Gideon was paralyzed, too scared to move for fear of what he
might do. His finger gripped the trigger firm. Once he felt in control, he took
a deep breath, and then dropped his hand and stood up. Gideon rubbed his temple
until the pain subsided. He took a deep breath, glaring at Jenny.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" he
yelled, turning his back to her as if to walk away, but quickly faced her again
and waited for her reply.

"I wanted to see who was following me," she said as
she backed up until she was resting on the edge of the fountain.

"You could have gotten yourself killed with that
move."

Gideon walked over to where she sat and stood for a moment,
looking down at her. He finally leaned on the fountain next to her. Slowly, he
reholstered the gun. His hands shook while all he could think about was the
fact that he'd almost killed her.

"How was I to know it was you?" Jenny asked
casually, trying not to show just how upset she was.

"Where are you going anyway?" Gideon turned and
looked up at the night sky.

"Someplace for dinner," she answered nonchalantly.

"Weren’t you going to clean your place?" Gideon took
a deep breath.

"Yes, but I do have to eat," she replied.
"There wasn't much food in the apartment before they destroyed it. Now
what was edible is in the garbage."

Jenny reached in the fountain, scooping up a handful of water,
and then splashed her face. She repeated the act until her face was cool and
the night air sent chills through her. It was a good feeling. Jenny looked down
at her hands: they were shaking.

"How are you doing with the cleanup?" Gideon asked
finally.

"We've got a lot of it done. Trish left for Benjamin's, I
just got tired and hungry."

"Do you mind if I join you?" he asked.

"Be my guest." She didn't feel she had a choice in
the matter. If she did not invite him, he would follow her anyway.

"I'm starved," was all Gideon said.

He took hold of her arm as they walked through the park. Jenny
could feel her heart still pounding. It startled her that Gideon had such quick
reflexes. He’d almost shot her a few moments earlier and now acted as if
nothing happened. Jenny looked up at Gideon. In the dim light she could see the
beads of perspiration on his forehead and realized he was more shaken than she
originally thought.

"Do you like Italian food?" Jenny asked.

"Some of it," Gideon replied.

"Well, that's what I'm having tonight." She did not
give him a choice in the matter.

Jenny wondered how long he had been watching her. There was so
much work. She had not given him a second thought and then she remembered the
phone conversation earlier. It had slipped her mind, but Jenny really did not
think they would have someone watching her night and day. She now realized this
might only be the beginning.

Gideon did not say anything until they got to the corner of
Thompson and Bleecker Street. Jenny did not mind. After what had happened in
the park, she needed time to collect her thoughts and her nerves. The fresh air
felt good; it reminded her of other walks in the city, but that was a long time
ago, a lifetime ago for her.

"This is the place," Jenny said, as she waited for
Gideon to open the door.

Papa Joe greeted them at the counter. Gideon took her arm and
followed Papa Joe to a table in the middle of the room. Jenny glanced over at
the booth in the back and then out the window. The silhouette of people walking
past the small cafe was all she saw through tears that formed. Quickly she
wiped them away.

The waiter walked up to the table and gave her a curious look.
"Would you like something to drink before you order?" he asked.

Jenny was quick to respond, "Whiskey sour," she
replied while Gideon ordered a club soda.

It was not long till the drinks came. Not realizing what she
was doing, Jenny drank hers within minutes. Gideon just sat back and watched.

"You better ease up, it's not good to drink on an empty
stomach," he said looking at Jenny with concern.

It then hit her how shaken she still was. "You look down
the barrel of, what is it you carry?" she asked, staring at him while
waiting for a response.

".357 Magnum," Gideon replied frankly. He reached
across the table, touched her hand. "I'm sorry," he whispered. His
eyes were soft as the candlelight danced across his face.

It reminded her of a time long ago, a time long since
forgotten. She wanted desperately to remember what it felt like but all she
thought about was the man in front of her. Those deep, intense eyes that saw
into her soul and the brooding smile that was not a smile at all. Jenny noticed
the scar above his right ear again. She wanted to touch it, to feel the warmth
of him, to make that pain go away. Most of all, she wanted to feel loved. The
room spun. It was the waiter who brought her back to reality.

"Would you like another drink?" he asked.

"No," Gideon replied before Jenny could order again.
"Bring a pot of coffee."

Once the waiter came back with the pot, he took their orders.
Jenny ordered the spaghetti with Gideon following her lead.

The waiter turned to Gideon. "Would you like anything to
drink with the meal?"

Gideon glanced at Jenny, and then turned to the waiter.
"A bottle of wine, but bring it with the meal."

"My, my. Aren't we being maternal?" Jenny mocked.

Gideon poured her a cup of coffee. "Sugar or cream?"
he asked.

"Black," she laughed to herself. Jenny picked up the
cup, took a sip of the hot liquid, and then savored the aroma and its warmth as
she held it in her hand. Jenny glanced over at Gideon and smiled. "Can you
drink on duty?"

"I'm not on duty," he replied, his eyes never left
her.

It felt good to hear him say the words, but she did not
believe him for a minute. A person like Gideon was never off duty. It would
take more than one whiskey sour for her to forget why he was there and what she
had that he wanted.

The waiter did not listen to Gideon and brought the wine to
the table with two glasses. Gideon poured Jenny a glass, then sat back and
watched.

Jenny was determined not to get lost in the alcohol or the
candlelight atmosphere of the tiny restaurant. They talked about everything and
nothing for almost half an hour before the food was served. Jenny found herself
enjoying Gideon's company. She knew if they spent any more time talking, she
would tell him the deep secret she harbored, and feared it was only a ploy of
his to win her confidence.

As the waiter set the platter of spaghetti in front of Gideon,
his eyes just stared at the large plate of pasta.

"You know, I never did like eating this stuff in
public," Gideon said glancing up at Jenny. He did not wait for her to
answer, just continued, "My mother used to cut the spaghetti up for me,
but I'm too embarrassed to do it in public."

Jenny smiled politely. It was hard to imagine Gideon LaMont as
a little boy. His dark eyes seemed to shine like silver in the candlelight and
she found herself mesmerized by his smile. And for a brief moment there was
nothing that came between them. Delaney meant nothing. She was just someone
enjoying an evening out with a friend.

"It's simple," she told him. "You take the
spoon in one hand and the fork in the other. Now take a few noodles with the
fork, like this." She showed him how it was done, and then quickly added.
"Put the spoon at the end of the fork like this. Turn the fork, and voila!
See how easy it is?" she said, watching him try the same trick.