The Night Stalker_ A Novel of Suspense - James Swain [18]
We climaxed at the same time, the horn of a passing yacht outside my window masking both our yells. Rose fell on top of me, and I held her overheated body against mine, and tried to catch my breath. The bedspread and pillows were scattered around the room, and I had no idea how they’d gotten there.
“Oh, wow,” she said.
Rose lay her head on my chest. For a while I listened to her breathing. Then I closed my eyes, and started to doze off. Her hand touched my face.
“Tell me why you were fighting in an orange grove with a policeman.”
I opened my eyes, and stared at my room’s cheap popcorn ceiling.
“We had a slight disagreement.”
“How bad?”
“Remember Heather Rinker?”
“Sure. She was one of Jessie’s friends in junior high. She was kind of wild, but I liked her.”
“Heather has a three-year-old son. He was kidnapped three nights ago, and I’ve been hired to find him. I’m certain his life is in danger. The detective working the case doesn’t want me involved, and he’s threatening me. So I threatened him back.”
“Why would he threaten you?”
“I don’t know. He’s got my old job running Missing Persons. Maybe he’s afraid I’ll show him up. Or maybe he’s trying to hide something.”
“Can he hurt you?”
I turned and stared into her eyes. “Yes.”
“How?”
“He could blackball me with other police departments and law enforcement agencies. All he has to do is send out an e-mail saying bad things about me, and I’m finished.”
“You mean it would destroy your business.”
“Yes.”
We didn’t talk for a while. The last time we’d been together, Rose had said that she’d be willing to leave her nursing job and come back to me, provided I could get my business going. If I kept warring with Ron Cheeks, that wasn’t going to happen.
“You hungry?” I asked.
“Starving,” my wife said.
“The food’s probably cold.”
“It will still taste good.”
I opened the window and we sat in bed eating our burgers and watching the cruise ships and pleasure boats pass by. A stiff breeze off the ocean cooled us down. Buster showed his face when we were done, and Rose fed him the rest of our french fries.
“Are you mad at me?” I asked.
Rose took my head in her hands. “Should I be?”
“I may have really screwed myself this time.”
“But you did it anyway.”
“I couldn’t help it. The kid’s life is in danger.”
“Let me ask you a question. Can this detective find him without your help?”
“Not at the rate they’re going.”
“Then you did the right thing. If you dropped this case and something terrible happened to Heather’s son, you’d never be able to live with yourself.”
Rose pulled my face to hers, eyes right next to mine. I felt like she was looking into my soul.
“Do you want to know something else, Jack?”
“What’s that?”
“Neither would I.”
CHAPTER TEN
I awoke at sunrise the next morning entwined in my wife’s arms. While she showered, I went for a run on the beach with Buster. Then I came back, took a shower, and we made love again. At eight o’clock, I walked her downstairs to her car.
“How soon are you heading back to Tampa?” I asked.
“I’m leaving right now. I’m scheduled to work the afternoon shift, and need to be there by noon.”
I didn’t know what to say. My life had been complete with Rose. Now it wasn’t. It was as simple as that, and at the moment there was nothing I could do to change it. I wrapped my arms around her tiny waist, and held her close.
“I miss you so much,” I said.
“I miss you, too. Now promise me you’ll stay out of trouble.”
“I’ll try.”
“And try not to fight with any more cops.”
“Okay.”
I opened her car door. Rose started to get in, then stopped.
“I almost forgot something,” she said.
Buster was sitting beside me, and Rose bent down and kissed the top of his head. Buster had taken a shine to Rose the first day they’d met. My dog was funny that way: he liked the people I liked, and tried to take a piece out of those