He toppled over backwards in slow motion fashion. His hoarse cry diminished as he fell away from them. The sea covered the sound of his body striking the rocks below.
A shrill voice carried clearly across the terrace dining room. “I must say that if this is some childish attempt at entertainment on the part of the management of this hotel...”
At that, Gria, crosslegged on the floor by the overturned table, went into one of the most profound demonstrations of hysteria that Ryan Kestrick had ever witnessed.
Ryan drove with the top down. He hummed softly to himself. The Grand Jury had taken his testimony in secret session and the indictments had been issued in satisfactory fashion. His plans were clear. Drive along the coast in leisurely fashion and then head up to Washington for all the necessary interviews.
It was good to think that Gria had gotten hold of herself. She had made Ryan sit in when she had interviewed applicants for the manager’s job so abruptly vacated by Earl Riverside. The businesslike mannerisms she had begun to pick up were cute. He grinned. In a year or so it might be interesting to take a vacation.
The town was forty miles behind him. A big blue bus was approaching when the warm lips lightly touched him under the left ear.
The new car swerved wildly, tires screaming. He fought it back under control, steered it over onto the shoulder and cut the engine, his mouth dry and his knees shaking. Just one more coat of paint on that bus and—
“How do I look?” Gria said gayly. “What a dusty old blanket I had to hide under!”
He regarded her somberly. There were spots of high color in her cheeks. The suit was light, the blouse frilly, the hat silly.
“You look as welcome as a traffic ticket.”
“How do you think up all those nice things to say to me? Well, am I going to get to sit up there beside you?”
“You are. For the forty fastest miles you ever traveled. Right back to where you started from.”
She pouted. “But, Ryan, darling.”
He imitated her tone. “Ryan, darling. Ryan, darling.”
He opened the door on the far side, slid across the front seat, got out and tilted the seat back. She started to slide into the front seat.
“Now I have a new idea,” he said. “A very satisfying idea.” He pulled her away from the car, turned and sat on the edge of the seat with his feet on the concealed running board. “You will now please drape yourself, face down, over these knees. You need disciplining.”
She backed away, her eyes wide. “No. Hey, no!”
“I can chase you and catch you. You might as well do it the easy way.”
She moved forward shyly. “Like... uh... like this?”
He pulled his right sleeve up a little. “That does seem to be fine. Still, I... uh...”
She craned her head around and looked up at him. “I’m waiting, darling. What’s the matter?”
“Well... I... uh...” And somehow she was still across his knees, but not face down, and her arms were tight around his neck and her lips were a deep steady flame that somehow managed to drive far down into his mind, softening and relaxing those dry, forgotten places, awakening emotions that had been too long dead.
It is a slow thing, coming back to life again.
She looked up at him, shifting in his misted vision.
“Why, Ryan! You...”
The passengers of a passing car hooted at them.
“High noon on route 81,” he said. “Not the place for it.” He got behind the wheel. She sat primly and quite smugly beside him.
“You can’t make a U turn here, you know,” she said.
“There’ll be a place up the road where I can make a U turn.”
“Oh.”
“Just a ways up this road. Don’t think it’s more than two days from here.”
“Drive carefully, dear,” she said.