Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [35]
I opened one eye and saw him removing his gun and holster. He set them on the bedside table, along with his wallet. Then he lay back on the mattress, sighing as his head sank into the pillow next to mine. He closed his eyes for a moment, then turned his head to meet my one-eyed gaze.
“I’ve been fantasizing for weeks about getting into your bed,” he said, his voice more relaxed than it had been before. “In my head, it was never quite like this.”
I snuggled against him and murmured, “This’ll do for now.
“Yeah.” He slid his arm around me and rested his cheek on my hair. “It will.”
A minute later, he broke the contented silence. “Esther?”
“Hmm?”
“How did the dog get your face all blue?”
“Shhh,” I said.
Within minutes, the even sound of his breathing soothed me to sleep.
A shrill ringing woke me up.
I sat bolt upright, looking around the room in a bleary daze.
Another shrill ring!
Hoping to stifle the noise, I reached for the alarm clock. Clumsy in my sleepiness, I missed it and knocked over the lamp on my nightstand. It fell to the floor with a clatter, which was when Lopez sat bolt upright, too, looking around in obvious confusion before he realized where he was.
The ringing continued, so I reached for the bedside phone next. When I picked up the receiver, all I heard was a dial tone. So then I picked up the silent alarm clock and stared at it stupidly.
Lopez lay back down and squinted at me in the afternoon light sliding through the Venetian blinds. “What are you doing?” he asked sleepily.
“Did we set the alarm?” I asked in a scratchy voice, not remembering why he was there, but not that surprised to find him in my bed. I had, after all, thought often about him being there.
“Huh?” He rubbed his eyes as the shrill ringing continued. “Oh, wait . . .” A five o’clock shadow darkened his jaw. “Sorry.” Still lying prone, he fumbled in his pockets. After a moment, he held up his cell phone. “I turned the . . .” He cleared his throat. “I turned the ringer way up last night so I could hear Napoli and my captain phoning me. The crime scene was so noisy . . .”
“Answer your phone,” I said tersely as it rang again.
“Huh? Oh. Right.” Still half asleep, he flipped open the phone and mumbled, “Hello?” He stiffened and looked a little more wakeful as he said, “Hi, Mom.”
I stiffened, too. We were both fully clothed and had done nothing in this bed but sleep. Even so, I started straightening my clothing and trying to smooth my hair.
Lopez glanced at me and started to smile. “Yeah, I was taking a nap.”
Feeling groggy, I was about to rub my hands over my face but then I noticed they were dirty with tabloid ink.
“Because I was tired,” he said into the receiver. “I worked a long shift last night.” After another moment, “I’m not sure. I lost count after I’d been on the clock for fourteen hours . . . I’m fine. Just tired.”
When I started to slide off the bed, he grabbed my arm and pulled me down into the pillows. I looked pointedly at the phone in his hand and shook my head. He grinned and, despite my squirming, pulled me closer while he listened to his mother’s next question.
“No, I didn’t have time,” he said. “Okay, I’ll go to Mass later. Yes, I promise.” He slid his arm around my waist and continued, “Yeah, it was the shooting at Bella Stella. We were on it all night.” He nuzzled my neck, his hair tickling my cheek. “Mom, I need to go, can I call you back la . . . What?” He froze in midcuddle and his tone changed. “The tabloids?”
Startled, I stopped wriggling.
He shifted position so that our gazes met, and he said to his mom, “Yeah, that would be the same Esther Diamond.”
Great.
Resisting the urge to curl up into a fetal position, I sighed and rolled away from Lopez. He didn’t wrestle me when I slid out of bed this time.
I looked over my shoulder at him and whispered, “I’ll make coffee.” He nodded and sat up. I headed for the bedroom door.
On my way out of the room, I heard him make a brief, doomed effort to go on the offensive.