Cherry Bomb

Or maybe Mom would be serving twenty to life.

I decided to call her back, but the motel door opened mid-dial.

“Sorry I took so long. Had to run an errand first.”

Phin had a bag of donuts and a cardboard container holding two coffees. I had an urge to press the issue, and another urge to do him right there in the doorway. I fought both urges and kept cool, waiting to see how he played it.

“I didn’t know if you took cream or sugar.” He shrugged. “I guess there’s a lot I don’t know about you.”

He handed me a cup. I took it. There was some awkward staring. What was he thinking? Was he thinking what I was thinking? What was I thinking?

I was thinking I should have put on makeup.

“Black,” I said, breaking the silence. “I take it black.”

“Me too. Why dilute the caffeine with all of that other crap?”

I took a sip. Lukewarm. He’d bought this a while ago. Where had he been all this time?

“Didn’t know what donuts you liked either. Got assorted.”

He sat down on the bed, dug into the bag, his foot tapping. Was he avoiding talking about us, or didn’t feel the need to?

Well, dammit, I felt the need to. We couldn’t work together until we figured out where we stood with each other. One of us needed to act like a grown-up.

I sat next to him, hip to hip. He didn’t look at me. Not a good sign. I reached up a hand to touch his face, and he flinched. An even worse sign.

“You’ve got some powdered sugar on your lip,” I said, rubbing it off with my thumb, automatically putting the thumb in my mouth to taste the sweetness.

It was bitter, and made my tongue tingle.

That wasn’t powdered sugar.

I recalled our earlier conversation, in the bar, when Phin told me he needed to stop back at his apartment to pick up some things.

Drugs? Had he wanted to pick up some coke?

And if that was cocaine on his lip, had he bought it with my money?

Phin seemed oblivious to my reaction, tugging out a cruller, eating a third of it with one bite. His foot kept tapping, and there were sweat beads on his forehead.

Years ago, I worked Vice. I knew narcotics. Phin was high.

I didn’t want to get involved with a drug addict. I didn’t want to get involved with a bank robber either. But I was more than involved-besides sleeping with him, I’d enlisted him to help me find Alex. To back me up. I was entrusting him with my life.

And he was offering to help me. Willing to risk his own life, and asking for nothing in return.

Except, possibly, free sex and money for coke.

I wondered why I couldn’t fall for a normal guy, then remembered I had, and just went to his funeral yesterday.

Jesus, what a mess.

“You like chocolate?” Phin asked.

I managed a nod. He handed me a chocolate frosted. I took a token bite, but my appetite was gone. The right thing to do was tell him I appreciated everything, but I didn’t need him anymore. I wasn’t even sure if that was the truth.

“Phin-”

The phone cut me off. Alex’s phone. But it wasn’t her-no 555 number. It was Harry again.

“Hiya, sis. I’m in Gurnee. When can you meet me?”

I stared at Phin. Was this the time and the place to make a big scene? Phin had the car. Would he drop me off in Gurnee after I told him to take a hike? Should I ask Harry to pick me up here? Could Harry and I handle Alex on our own? And was I willing to lose one of my closest friends just because he had some issues? A close friend who was great in the sack?

“An hour,” I told Harry.

“Call me when you’re close.”

I hung up. Phin was working on his second donut.

“We’re meeting Harry in Gurnee,” I said.

He nodded, stood up, grabbed the backpack, and stopped at the door. The moment stretched.

“You okay?”

A ridiculous thing to ask, considering everything.

“Look, Jack, you’ve probably figured out I’m not good with this intimacy thing. I’m out of practice. Hell, when I was in practice, I wasn’t very good at it.”

He paused. I waited.

“I want to tell you…I don’t think this morning was a mistake. And I’d like to know if you feel the same way.”

He’s giving you an out, Jack. Tell him it was a mistake.

“It wasn’t a mistake,” I heard myself say.

“I’m glad to hear that. And there’s something on my mind. If it’s okay we’re talking.”

“It’s fine,” I said to his back. “Say what you need to say.”

“When I took the money from your purse…”

Here we go. He was going to open up about the drugs. About stealing from me. How should I react? Ask him to rob another bank to pay me back? Offer to pay him to help me with Alex? Lecture him about the dangers of drug abuse?

“I know it’s none of my business,” he said, “but I saw it.”

“Saw what?”

“The pregnancy test.” He turned around, his face serious. “You want to tell me what’s up?”

CHAPTER 34

ALEX CLIMBS OFF THE BED. Naked. Satisfied. Bloody.

The blood isn’t hers.

Jack’s husband held up pretty well. The erection pills probably helped, but twice in an hour was more than Lance ever managed.

“Not bad, loverboy. If you enjoyed yourself, don’t say anything.”

Alan stays quiet. The duct tape gag has a lot to do with it, but it makes Alex feel good just the same.

In the shower, she lathers up and plans her next few moves. Alex is good at pla

Though genetically she’s a predator-something she got from Father-she can also thank him for her plotting capabilities. Growing up in a house hold ruled by fear and abuse can turn the most i

She playfully swishes a toe through the blood-streaked suds swirling down the drain, and decides to find some time in her busy schedule today to paint her toenails. She likes how the red looks.

The hair dryer is even worse than the one at the Old Stone I

Back into the bedroom, naked. No real room for any serious exercise. But then, she probably got enough exercise in the last hour. She dresses in the cop uniform again, pleased that Alan is watching her. He’s gone from looking scared to looking devastated. Like a kicked dog.

“I’ll be back soon, dear. Don’t wait up for me.”

He doesn’t answer. She spends ten minutes online, giving Alan’s credit card a little workout. She remembers his e-mail address from his Web site, but she does have to give him a few gentle slaps to get him to spill his preferred Internet password. It gives her tremendous plea sure to hear his password is Jacqueline. What a sap.

When she’s finished with the computer, she sits on the bed and opens up the defibrillator, pretending to press a few buttons.

“I’ve activated the automatic motion sensor. So if you struggle, or try to scream, it will give you a nasty jolt. Plus, it will make me really angry. Trust me, I’m much easier to get along with when you’re on my good side.”

She runs a finger along his forehead, wipes the blood off on a pillowcase, and leaves the hotel room, making sure to put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door.