"No, just that she wasn't interested. Period."
"Uh-huh. Look, Lav, I've got to find this boyfriend. This Christi, she's a puzzle, see? There's nothing personal in her apartment. The way you describe her, she barely had a life. This boyfriend is the only clue we've got."
Lavender shrugged. "I've told you everything I remember, baby. I don't see how you're going to find him. I mean, you could talk to the other girls who were there. A few of them might still be in town. They might remember something."
Cordy nodded, knowing it was a long shot. "Okay, I'll have you write down their names."
"And maybe some of the other people at the club saw him. Bouncers, bartenders, waitresses. I left the club not too long after that, so he might have come back when I wasn't there."
"Yeah, that's a start I'll run 'em all down tomorrow."
"Sorry, baby," Lavender said. "You look disappointed."
"I am. This could have been a big break, but I'm afraid it looks more like a dead end."
Lavender smirked. "I know how to make it up to you."
She slid her tongue out between her lips and reached for his zipper. Effortlessly, she pulled it down. "You want some head, baby?"
Cordy was immediately hard. "Oh, yeah."
Her fingers skillfully reached inside.
"Mmm, dessert," she whispered.
Lavender's upper body sank forward, and her hair tumbled over his lap. Cordy closed his eyes, waiting for the delicious warmth of her mouth closing over him. It never came. With a start, Lavender straightened up, and Cordy opened his eyes, enormously disappointed.
"What's wrong, mama?" he pleaded.
She stared at him with bright eyes. "I may, I just may, have a picture of him."
"Who?"
"The mystery man. The boyfriend."
Cordy felt his erection wither, but his mind was excited. "A picture? Get out of here."
"Yeah, yeah. We were clowning around with my Polaroid that night, making faces, shooting our tits and asses. I remember because Christi wouldn't let me take her picture. Kept turning her back. But it's possible creepy-face ended up in the background of one of the shots."
"You still have the pictures?" Cordy asked.
"I think so. In my apartment. I have a drawer where I dump all of them."
Cordy turned the key in the ignition, and the engine of the Cruiser fired into action. He clutched the wheel with tight fists. "Where's your apartment?" he asked.
Lavender told him, and before she was even finished, Cordy rocketed the car toward the ramp that led out of the parking lot. The tires squealed, and the rear of the car threatened to fishtail.
"Don't speed," Lavender said, grinning.
"Why not?"
Laughing, Lavender pointed between his legs, where Cordy's penis still dangled out of his pants. "Well, if another cop pulls you over, how are you going to explain that?"
45
Stride still didn't want to go home.
When he came to the intersection that led back to Serena's motel, he turned toward the lake instead, following by habit a route that had long ago become ingrained in his head, even though he hadn't driven it in a long time. He didn't ask himself where he was going. He just knew, because his heart pulled him there.
"Let's go down to the water," he suggested to Serena.
"Fine by me."
He guided them through Canal Park and across the bridge to the Point. There were no ships to delay them tonight. The steel buzzed under his tires, and a few seconds later, he was back where he had once felt more at home than anywhere else. Even at night, he could see the passage of time by the glow of the streetlights. Some trees were larger, and some were gone. New homes had been put up and others torn down. He had stopped coming here, but life had gone on without him.
He slowed as he drove past his old house. Glancing in the mirror, seeing no one behind them, he stopped in the street and rolled down his window.
"That was our place," he told her. "Me and Cindy."
"I'd love a place like that" Serena said.
The house looked good. The new owners had gone with yellow paint this season, which brightened it up considerably, and they obviously had a green thumb, judging from the flower gardens decorating the lawn. The grass and bushes were neatly trimmed. The driveway was paved now. They had put in a swing set for their kids.
All the lights were off. They were gone, or asleep, or lying in bed listening to the waves, as he and Cindy used to do.
Stride continued through the rest of the Point, which was dark and deserted. He followed the road all the way to the park at the very end and got out of the truck. Serena joined him. They held hands as they followed a sandy trail through the trees to the lake. When they emerged, the sky opened up, drowning them in stars, and the water loomed ahead, loud and black. The soft wind teased the trees behind them. Waves tumbled in, whooshing onto the shore. The strip of beach was lonely and dark as far as they could see.
He saw Serena smile with delight. She tugged on his hand, pulling him toward the water. They went to the edge of the wet sand where the incoming waves glided almost to their feet. Every few seconds, they had to dance back to stay dry.
Serena spun in a circle, soaking up the sights around her. She pointed at the thin line of houses stretching toward the city.
"You lived here?" she asked "Why move?"
"Andrea didn't like it," he explained. "Plus, there were too many memories."
"Does it hurt being here now?"
He shook his head. "Not at all."
Serena retreated from the water and looked for a flat stretch of sand. "Sit with me for a while, Jonny."
He leaned down and scooped a handful between his fingers. "The sand's still damp from the storm."
"That's all right"
He saw it in her eyes. A leap of faith for her. An act of trust. For him, there was no turning back, and he knew only that he didn't want to stop it, not for anything.
Serena kicked off her shoes. She unbuttoned her jeans, slipped them down her slim, long legs, and stepped out of them. She stretched her arms up to the sky, revealing a stretch of bare stomach and, below, white bikini panties. With both hands, she peeled up the bulky sweater of Stride's that she was wearing and the navy T-shirt beneath it. Her breasts strained at the fabric of her bra. She knelt in the sand and held her hand out to him.
"You'll freeze," he told her.
"Keep me warm."
He took off his own shoes. He left his shirt on but removed his pants and tossed them aside. He sat down next to her, their legs touching, and the sand beneath him didn't feel cold at all. Her arms came around him, her hands digging under his shirt, clutching his back, pressing into his skin. They kissed hungrily. Their bodies sank until they were prone in the sand.
He kissed her neck and slid a bra strap off her shoulder, pulling it down until her breast spilled into his hand. His mouth covered her nipple, sucking on it. He heard a soft rumble of pleasure in her throat. He exposed her other breast and kissed it. Her fingers found the slit in his boxers and slipped inside to stroke his erection with her nails. She pulled aside the flap of fabric, and he felt cool air as his penis slid out.
"Quickly," she whispered.
He reached for her panties and pushed his thumbs inside. She rose up from the beach, and he slid them off and tossed them away. Her hands grabbed for him and pulled him over her. He licked her breasts, but she took his face in her palms and brought him up to kiss her. He kissed her lips. Her cheeks. Her eyes.
Her legs spread and wrapped around him. He felt his penis brushing against her mound and sinking lower.
"We're not-" he murmured. Not safe. Not protected.
"Yes, we are," she told him, and there was a sadness in her voice, and he wondered if he had killed the moment.
But his penis found its way inside her in the next second, and she was wet and waiting. He gasped with pleasure. She did, too, and her legs held him tightly, and her fingers rippled against his neck. He began to thrust inside her, so deep they could have been one person. The stars watched them. The waves roared in his ears.