‘A lot has changed.’
‘Not how I feel about you,’ she said. ‘I’ll always love you, no matter what.’
‘I’ll always love you, too,’ he told her.
And was pretty sure that he meant it.
‘What about Sue?’ she asked.
‘Do you want me to dump her?’
Marta shook her head, which surprised him. Then she said, ‘That isn’t what I meant. Are you going to feel guilty about it if we make love?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I hope not.’
‘You had me first,’ Neal said. ‘Besides, I don’t think she’ll mind.’
‘Most women would.’
‘She knows how I feel about you.’
Curling her fingers lightly around his penis, Marta asked, ‘Would you dump her if I asked you to?’
He didn’t have to think about it.
‘I’d hate to do that,’ he said.
‘Good thing I’m not asking,’ Marta said.
They went to Marta’s bed. Bending over it, she pulled down the blanket and top sheet.
They lay down together.
The sheet under Neal felt smooth and cool at first. He stretched out, relishing the feel of it. Then he rolled onto his side. Marta, on her side, scooted closer to him until the tips of her breasts touched his chest, and his penis pushed against her belly. She gazed into his eyes.
‘So here we are,’ she whispered. She put a hand out and rested it on his hip. ‘It’s good to have you back.’
‘It’s good to be here.’
‘I was so worried about you. I was so afraid I’d never see you again – that he’d find you, somehow. Rasputin. And kill you.’ Tears suddenly shimmered in Marta’s eyes. ‘Even if I lose you to her . . . to Sue . . .’
‘I don’t want to lose you,’ Neal whispered.
They moved in snug against each other. Marta was all soft and smooth. When she opened her mouth, she was wet. And Neal was wet and slick against her belly.
The feel of her mouth was familiar to him. Every part of her body was familiar, and so were the sounds she made, and the ways she touched him and how she moved. All of her, familiar and safe and like going home.
Forty-Three
When Neal woke up, he sensed that he’d been asleep for hours. He was sprawled on his back, hot from the sunlight that filtered in through the curtains above Marta’s bed.
He could hear her sleeping beside him, softly snoring.
He pushed himself up on his elbows.
She was curled on her side, facing away from him. Her hair was a tangle of mussed gold. Her skin looked tawny in the mellow light. Her left arm rested on top of her side. Its hair was very fine and nearly invisible on her upper arm, thicker below her elbow. Neal wanted to run his lips along the length of her arm and feel the downy hair.
But he didn’t want to wake her.
Looking beyond her shoulder, he saw the clock on the nightstand.
3:18 p.m.
Marta hadn’t fallen asleep until almost eleven that morning.
So Neal didn’t touch her. He stared at her for a while longer, savoring the light and shadows on the curves and rises and slants and creases of her body. He wished she weren’t asleep. He would love to touch her, to explore every bit of her, caressing and kissing and tasting . . .
Like I did to Sue.
Sue.
She’d been deserted for hours.
Neal carefully made his way to the edge of the bed, swung his feet to the floor, and stood up. Marta didn’t stir. She sounded as if she were still asleep.
He stepped around the clothes scattered on the carpet, then eased open the door and stepped into the hallway. He shut the door.
As he walked silently toward the living room, he wondered if Sue was asleep.
He wondered if she’d ever gotten dressed.
What has she been doing? he wondered.
And who was she in, Marta or me?
He knew her well enough to be sure that she’d used the bracelet on one or the other of them; she had been present, a mute participant in all that had happened in Marta’s bedroom.
It didn’t bother him, though.
He hadn’t given the matter any conscious thought at the time, but he must’ve wanted Sue to be with them. Otherwise, he could have taken the bracelet from her.
She might be in me right now, he realized.
‘Hello? You in here? How was it?’
Even as he put the questions to Sue inside his mind, he stepped into the living room and saw the empty sofa. Both blankets were neatly folded, stacked at one end, the pillows piled on top of them.
Sue was not in the room.
Take it easy. She’s probably around here someplace.
Neal hurried toward the bathroom, but changed direction when he saw its open door, and entered the kitchen. The linoleum felt smooth and warm under his bare feet.
No Sue.
She’s gone!
What if Rasputin got in, somehow, and . . .
Took her to that garage . . .
Nailed her to the wall . . .
Neal was just starting to cringe inside when he saw the piece of paper standing upright in the middle of the kitchen table. He snatched it up.
The note was printed in pencil.
Dear Neal and Marta,
Gone shopping. Back before you know it.
Luv,
Me
Neal took a deep breath, and sighed. ‘Thank God,’ he muttered. Then he wondered where she’d gone.
Heading for a store seemed like an odd thing for her to do, especially since she’d never been in Los Angeles before. How would she even know where to go?
She’s not exactly shy. Probably asked someone.
Neal did some exploring. He discovered that Sue’s leather skirt and sleeveless blue shirt were gone, along with her panties, bra, socks and shoes. Her purse was missing, too. So were Neal’s keys.
She took my car!
For a moment, he was annoyed. Then amused by her audacity at taking his car without asking. Then pleased that she’d felt no need to ask. Then worried.
What if she gets lost?
Gets in an accident?
Gets jumped by Rasputin and taken . . .?
‘She’ll be fine,’ he said quietly.
But he wished she were here.
He wondered how long she’d been gone.
What if she doesn’t come back?
Lighten up, he told himself.
Had she taken the gun? He turned his eyes to the lamp table beside the chair. His pistol was there.
Beside it, the bracelet.
At least she’s not in me or Marta now.
Neal went into the bathroom to take a shower. He needed a shower; he was hot and sweaty and sticky. And it would help to pass the time.
Take a good long one, and maybe Sue will be back when I get out.
We could’ve gone shopping together, he thought. Maybe if I’d gotten up the minute Marta fell asleep . . .
But he’d felt so tired and comfortable.
If anything happens to Sue . . .
She’ll be fine, he told himself.
Then he was standing in the hot spray, surrounded by aromas that reminded him of Marta.
This is all so unreal, he thought as he slicked his body with a bar of Marta’s soap.
It’s crazy, that’s what it is. You can’t get away with having two women.
And what the hell kind of a problem is this to be worrying about when you’ve got a guy like Rasputin out there? Leslie Glitt.
He pictured the crucified, scorched woman in the garage: raising her head and opening her eyes. But when her eyes opened, she was suddenly Elise on the ledge of her tub, arms spread, a bar of soap in her mouth.
He yelped at the rumble of the shower door.
Jerked his head sideways.
Saw a smudged figure through the frosted glass until the glass slid out of the way and Marta stood there. She had a pleased l
ook on her face. ‘May I join you?’ she asked.
‘Are you kidding?’
She climbed in, rolled the door shut, and embraced him. As they kissed, Neal slid his hands up and down her back. She felt slippery and wonderful.
When they were done kissing, he said, ‘Did I wake you up?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t want to sleep my life away.’ She took the bar of soap from him and began to slide it on his body. ‘Where’s Sue?’
‘I guess she went shopping. She left a note in the kitchen.’
‘Did she know where to go?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’t think she left because of us?’
‘I doubt it. She probably went to buy some clothes. She doesn’t have anything.’
‘I noticed that. She’ll probably cause quite a stir at the store.’
‘You’re causing quite a stir yourself,’ Neal said.
‘I noticed.’ She set the soap aside, and caressed him with her slippery hands.
He picked up the soap and used it on her.
‘We’ll both be squeaky clean,’ she said, her lips moving against his.
Later, they found that the tub was too small so they made love standing up, Marta’s back to the tile wall. She clung to him and grunted as he thrust up into her.
Later still, they stood on the mat and rubbed each other dry with thick, soft towels. They wrapped the towels around their waists before leaving the steamy bathroom.
Marta, in the lead, headed for the kitchen. ‘When was the last time you had a meal?’ she asked.
‘I don’t think I can remember back that far,’ Neal said. ‘Last night, actually. We stopped at a Denny’s around eight o’clock.’
‘Nothing since?’
‘We had beer at my place.’
As they entered the kitchen from the hallway, Sue entered from the other end. She wore her usual blue shirt and black leather skirt. Smiling, she raised a hand and said, ‘Howdy.’
‘You’re back,’ Neal said.
‘Yup.’ She came toward Marta with brisk strides, extending her hand. ‘Hi, I’m Sue.’
‘Nice to meet you. I’m Marta.’ Though blushing, she didn’t try to hide her breasts.
After shaking hands with her, Sue said, ‘Nice towels.’
‘We didn’t know you were back yet,’ Neal said.
‘No problem.’
‘I’d better go change,’ Marta said. She turned around and headed for the hallway.
‘Me, too,’ Neal said.
‘Ya look good in a towel,’ Sue said. ‘Both of ya.’
Marta, in the doorway, looked over her shoulder and smiled slightly. Then she turned and walked out of sight.
‘Go on with her,’ Sue said.
‘I need my suitcase and stuff.’
Sue went with him into the living room.
He saw a few shopping bags on the sofa.
‘Did your trip go all right?’ he asked.
‘Yeah! I went to that Westside Pavilion? Never seen nothin like it.’
‘You didn’t get lost?’
‘Nope.’
Bending down, Neal picked up his suitcase and overnight bag. Then he met her eyes. In a whisper, he asked, ‘Did you use the bracelet on us?’
‘I went to the mall.’
‘Before you went to the mall.’
A slight smile tilted the corners of her mouth.
‘I knew it. Which one of us?’
Her smile grew. ‘That’s for me to know and for you to find out.’
‘Bitch,’ he whispered.
She laughed. ‘See ya later, alligator.’
Shaking his head, he turned away from Sue. He carried his luggage down the hall to the bedroom. Marta had left the door open. Walking in, Neal found her already wearing a pair of old, cut-off blue jeans. She turned to face him, a T-shirt in her hands. ‘How do grilled cheese sandwiches sound?’ she asked, putting her arms inside the T-shirt.
‘Great.’
Her breasts lifted when she swung her arms and the T-shirt overhead, then shook as she pulled the shirt down.
‘No bra?’ Neal asked.
‘Too hot. Besides, it’s a little too late for modesty around here.’ She stepped up to Neal, slipped a hand behind his head, kissed him gently on the mouth, then said, ‘I’ll see if Sue’s had anything to eat yet.’
When she was gone, Neal plucked off his towel and tossed it on the bed. He got dressed in a pair of gray hiking shorts and a loose, short-sleeved shirt. Then he picked up both the damp towels and carried them out of the bedroom. He planned to hang them in the bathroom, but the door was shut.
He found Marta in the kitchen.
‘What do you want me to do with these?’ he asked. ‘Sue must be in the john.’
‘Yeah. She asked if she could take a shower. Care to join her?’
Neal blushed. ‘I’ve already had mine,’ he said.
‘If you want to . . . don’t let me stop you.’
He shook his head. ‘No, thanks. But what about the towels?’
‘Just hang them over a chair.’ She nodded toward the kitchen table.
Neal draped them over the back of a chair. ‘Can I help?’
‘Feel free to sit and watch.’
He pulled out the middle chair, turned it around and sat down, but didn’t lean back against the towels.
Crouching, Marta took a skillet out of a cupboard. ‘We don’t have to wait for Sue, by the way. She ate at the mall. How about a beer?’
‘Sure.’
Marta took two cans out of her refrigerator, brought one to Neal, and kept one for herself.
A moment after Neal popped open his can, he heard the sound of water running; Sue had started her shower. He imagined how she must look standing under the spray – then felt guilty about it.
Marta popped open the other can of beer. She took a sip, then set it down on the counter and looked at Neal. ‘I like her,’ she said.
‘You do? You’ve hardly even met her.’
She shrugged. ‘You get a feeling about people. I do. I can usually tell right away whether I’m going to like someone.’
‘First impressions.’
‘Mine are usually right.’
‘So you’re not going to throw her out?’
‘Nah. Wouldn’t do that even if I hated her. Which, by the way, it surprises me I don’t.’
‘I’m glad you don’t.’
‘We’ll just have to work things out, one way or another.’
It took Marta only a few minutes to prepare the sandwiches. Then she brought them to the table on paper plates.
After she was seated, Neal picked up his sandwich and bit into it. The crisp, grilled bread crunched in his teeth, and his mouth suddenly filled with the flavors of melted butter and cheddar cheese.
Marta picked up her sandwich, glanced at it, then looked at Neal. ‘Now,’ she said, ‘how do we get our hands on the reward money?’
Caught with a mouthful, Neal shook his head and continued to chew. When his mouth was almost empty, he drank some more beer. Then he said, ‘Things have changed. I don’t know. Maybe we’d better wait for Sue.’
Forty-Four
Finished with their sandwiches, they went into the living room and sat down on the sofa. A while later, Neal heard the bathroom door open.
Sue came striding in, barefoot, wearing a pleated white miniskirt and a bright yellow knit pullover with short sleeves. ‘What do ya think?’ she asked. She spread her arms and twirled, the skirt floating up higher.
‘Very nice,’ Marta said.
‘Yeah,’ Neal agreed.
‘I got me a bikini, too, and some other stuff. Never seen a mall like that. Wow! Anyhow, what’s up?’ She dropped onto the recliner, raised her left foot and hooked it under her right thigh. Then she glanced from Marta to Neal, her eyebrows raised.
‘We need to figure out a few things,’ Neal said. ‘About tonight.’
‘Did ya tell Marta what happened?’
> He shook his head.
‘What?’ Marta asked.
‘I found out some things about Rasputin,’ Neal explained. ‘He showed up back at my place.’
‘At your place? When?’
‘Late last night I don’t know. Three o’clock, around then.’
Marta scowled. ‘You went back?’
‘Yeah. Sue was asleep and I wasn’t tired, so I headed over to my place and he was there. I saw him picking the front door lock. He got inside and looked around, then left.’
‘What did you do?’ Marta asked.
‘Watched. I was hiding, and . . .’
‘My God! What if he’d caught you?’
Neal shrugged.
‘Did you have your gun?’
‘No, but . . .’ He saw the strange, intense way that Sue was staring at him from her chair.
Marta looked at Sue, then back at Neal. ‘What’s going on? Something’s going on. You’re not telling me something.’
‘I think y’oughta tell her,’ Sue said. ‘What’s it gonna hurt?’
‘Tell me what?’ Marta asked.
Neal groaned. ‘Jeez, Sue! Nobody’s supposed to know about it but me. Not even you – and now I’m gonna have to tell Marta?’
Marta, looking hurt, said, ‘You don’t have to tell me anything. I don’t want to bust into your little secrets . . .’
‘It’s not that,’ Neal said. ‘Nobody’s supposed to know about it. Sue only found out by accident.’
‘Then don’t tell me,’ Marta said. ‘Simple as that.’
‘I’ve got to, now.’
‘No, you don’t.’
‘Ya better tell her,’ Sue said.
He sighed. Then he said, ‘It’s the bracelet.’
Sue reached to the lamp table, picked it up, and raised it. ‘This,’ she said. She untucked her leg, stood up, crossed to the sofa, and handed the bracelet to Marta.
As she returned to her chair, Marta looked at the heavy gold snake. She held it in her hand and turned it slowly. ‘Nice,’ she said, then turned to Neal and asked, ‘What’s the big secret?’
‘It’s not exactly a normal bracelet,’ Neal said.
‘Is it real gold?’ Marta asked.
‘I think so.’
‘Are these real emeralds?’
‘Probably.’
‘I’ll say it’s not normal. It must be worth a ton of money.’