“Nope. See, I figured you might not be interested in cooperating with my little plan. On the other hand, from my point of view, it’s not that often you meet a guy who is intelligent, physically acceptable, heterosexual, and available. I decided I’d have to take things in my own hands, if you know what I mean.”
Lucas was on his back staring at the ceiling. Looking down at him, she saw his stomach muscles tighten, and his chest lifted off the bed as though he were levitating, his head coming up, eyes wide.
“Jennifer . . .”
“Yeah. I’m pregnant.”
He flopped back on the pillow.
“Oh.”
She laughed. “You can be one of the funniest men I know.”
“Why is that?”
“I tried to figure out what you’d say when I told you. I thought of everything except ‘Oh.’ ”
He sat up again, his face deeply serious. “We ought to get married. Like tomorrow. I can fix the blood tests—”
She laughed again. “Yo. Davenport. Wake up. I’m not getting married.”
“What?”
“Just a few minutes ago you said you liked me, not loved me. For one thing. Besides, I don’t want to marry you.”
“Jennifer . . .”
“Listen, Lucas. I’m touched by the offer. I wasn’t sure you’d make it. And you’d make a wonderful father. But you’d make an awful husband and I couldn’t put up with that.”
“Jennifer . . .”
“I thought it out.”
“What about me, goddammit?” he said. He threw off the blanket and knelt over her, his heavy fists in tight balls, and she dropped flat, suddenly, for the first time afraid of him. “It’s my kid too. Right? I mean, it is mine?”
“Yes.”
“And I don’t want my kid being a little fuckin’ bastard.”
“So what are you going to do, beat me into marriage?”
He looked down at his balled fists and suddenly relaxed. “No, of course not,” he said softly. He flopped down beside her.
“Look. I’m going to have the kid,” she said. “If you don’t want anyone to know he’s yours, that’s okay. If you don’t mind, I’d love to have you around to help. I’ll be here in the Cities. I assume you will be too.”
“Yeah.”
“So we’ll really be together.”
“No. Not sharing a bed every night. Look, I’m going to tell you. I’m going to spend the next nine months—”
“Seven months.”
“—seven months trying to convince you to marry me. If you won’t, what would you say about moving in here?”
“Lucas, this house is a men’s club. You’ve got everything but spittoons.”
“Listen, I’ll tell you what . . .”
“Lucas, we’ve got months to figure out the exact arrangements. And right now I feel kind of horny again. Something about your reaction. It was much nicer than I expected.”
A few minutes later she said, “Lucas, you’re not paying attention.”
And a few minutes after that she gave up. “It’s like trying to make love with a rope. A short rope. No offense.”
He didn’t laugh. He said, “Jesus Christ, I’m going to have a kid.” And then he reached over and placed a hand on her stomach. “I’ve always wanted a kid. Maybe two or three.” He looked at her. “You don’t think it could be twins, do you?”
The next morning, Jennifer was peering at herself in the mirror over the bathroom sink and Lucas stopped by the door and looked at her.
“Doesn’t show,” he said.
“In a month it will,” she said. She turned her face to him.
“I want the interview with that Chicana chick.”
“The chief—”
“I don’t care about the chief. I got some more background on her, and I’ll go with what I’ve got unless you set something up. Tonight, tomorrow.”
“I’ll check.”
She looked back in the mirror and stuck her tongue out. “This is going to be weird,” she said.
The shower was running when Lucas finished dressing. He hurried in to the kitchen telephone, found Carla’s phone number in his pocket directory, and dialed. The shower stopped just as the phone was answered.
“Carla? This is Lucas.”
“Yes, hi. What’s going on?”
“We’re getting some fierce pressure for an interview with you. The woman from TV3, Jennifer Carey, has a leak somewhere. She knows some things about you and it’s only a matter of time before somebody tracks you down. It might be better if we went ahead and gave her an interview while we can control things a bit.”
There was a moment of silence.
“Okay. If you think so.”
“It’ll be in the afternoon or early evening. I’ll get back to you.”
“Should I pack a suitcase?”
“Oh . . . yeah. You want me to go to the chief for a hotel, or you want to try the cabin?”
“How about the cabin? I like the lakes.”
“Pack a bag. We’ll go up tonight.”
Lucas hung up and redialed, calling Daniel on his direct line.
“Linda? I need to talk to the chief.”
“He’s pretty busy, Lucas. Let me ask.”
“Jennifer Carey says she’s going with the story about the survivor.”
“Hang on.”
Jennifer walked down the hall, rubbing her wet hair with a bath towel, and got a bagel out of the refrigerator.
Lucas covered the phone’s mouthpiece with the palm of his hand. “Something’s happening,” he said.
She stopped chewing. “What?”
“I don’t know.”
Jennifer pulled out a kitchen chair and lowered herself into it as Linda came back on the line. “I’m switching you in,” the secretary said.
Daniel was on a second later. “Lucas? I was about to call. You better get down here.”
“What’s happening?”
“Sloan interviewed this Rice woman about the gun?”
“Yeah, I was there for some of it.”
“She mentioned a welfare guy. Sloan put that with your idea that he picks his victims in the courthouse and did some checking. This welfare guy fits a lot of the profile. He’s gay. He’s in the right age and size slot. And listen to this: he’s into art. Sloan was greasing one of the women from the welfare office, got her talking about Smithe, and she was saying what a waste this guy is. Big, good-looking, but she said she went to an opening and saw him there with his boyfriend. Sloan checked with the Ruiz woman. She was at the opening. It was a week before she was hit.”
“Damn.” Lucas thought for a moment. “I don’t know.”
“What?”
“Hang on a second. Jennifer Carey is sitting here.” Lucas put his hand over the mouthpiece again. “Go on back to the bathroom and shut the door.”
“Hey . . .”
“Don’t give me any trouble, Jennifer, please? This is a private conversation. We’ll have to work out some rules, but right now . . .”
“All right.” She stood and flounced out of the room and down the hall, and he heard the door close behind her.
He took his hand off the mouthpiece.
“I sent her back to the bathroom. She’s pissed . . . There, the door closed. I’ll tell you what, chief, it seems awfully easy. The guy is too smart to be caught that quick. And a week is a pretty short time to check her out.”
“Sure, but we only caught him through a freak accident. He didn’t plan to lose the gun.”
“Then why didn’t the brass have prints on them? He used gloves to load the son of a bitch.”
“Sure, but I bet he didn’t know where the gun came from—that we could trace it. And he is gay. All the shrinks say he will be.”
Lucas thought about it. “That’s a point,” he admitted. “Okay. It sounds like he’s worth a check.”
“We don’t want to fuck up. I think we’re going to want you to . . . develop some intelligence on him.”
“Okay.” Daniel wanted him to bag the guy’s house. “Listen, Carey wants to talk with Ruiz. I think I should set it up. It’ll keep her off this other thing.”