“It really was a good idea.” Serenity used her hand a different way and Joe groaned again. “The only problem was that fighting with you made me horny, so I said, ‘Better than that. We can only have a serious talk if you’re in me.’”
“When we told her about our rule, she threw us out, but we didn’t care.”
Serenity released him, leaned forward and cradled his face in her hands. Then she kissed him and said, “So, do you want to go back to work, or do you want to have that serious talk we’ve been putting off all week?”
“Who am I,” he said, “to argue with a determined woman?”
She stripped her t-shirt over her head and swung one leg off of him. Next, she eased his shorts off and stepped out of her panties.
“Now then,” she climbed back aboard, “let’s get… talking.”
“You have my un-di-vi-ded attention,” gasped Joe.
“Good. God, I didn’t know how badly I needed—” she shifted and found a rhythm, “to talk.”
Joe was out of rhythm with her. She couldn’t tell if that was all, or if he was holding back for the talk.
“First,” she said. “About Doom.”
“Cute girl.”
“Get your mind off that and back here. You know how sometimes I point to my eyes and tell you to focus up here?” She made the two-finger sign that said, look here, and pointed at her breasts. “Focus.”
“Focused. Now, what about Doom?”
“She didn’t kill Kendall.”
The good tension went out of his face, and was replaced by bad tension. “Never thought she did.”
“You also never knew the murder weapon was the library spike Doom kept on her desk.”
She twisted a little to distract him, or to distract herself. It worked with Joe for only a few seconds.
“Her desk?” He paused, caught his breath and groaned. “The one next to the desk where Kendall was killed? We didn’t find any kind of spike there.”
“I took it. But I can give it back to you now that I know Doom is innocent.”
“And how do you know that?”
“She told me.”
He was silent and she seized the needed moment to bear down hard and concentrate. She shook, moaned, and said, “That’s one.”
She opened her eyes and saw that he was back to focusing on her eyes. “You mean one O, or one major felony, Serenity?”
He put his hands on her hips to join her and said, “How many other major felonies do I have to cover up for this? And I’ll reach my own conclusion about Miss Doom.”
She leaned forward and dragged her nipples one by one across his lips. She said, “I’ll make it worth it.”
His eyes were half-closed and he was smiling in agreement. Then they fluttered open and he said, “Wait. What about the library money?”
“I think you’re right about it coming from Don Juan, but not directly. I found a little municipal fund that nobody much uses, but that gets millions of dollars every week. It has to come from him, so it’s just like I’m robbing the robber.”
Joe’s face had the twist of a man trying to do two things at once, which he was.
“That’s not…” He paused and moved with her. “That’s not Don Juan. Even he doesn’t generate that kind of money. Nobody generates that kind of money.”
He started to say something else, couldn’t, and breathed for a moment. Finally, he said, “As long as it’s all in the past and you’re done with stealing, I’m not going to play cop for something that’s over with.”
One matter settled, he turned his focus to the other. By this time they were panting together. She could feel what he needed and she gave it to him, got what she needed at the same time and then collapsed on his chest.
“Two,” she said. “Two to one.”
“Oh, my sweet, sweet Sweetblossom. I’m so glad to be done with lawbreaking and secrets.”
He wrapped his arms around her and rotated her down beside him, tucked her head into his throat and let out a long, sliding-into-sleep breath.
Serenity, however, was wide awake. “We may have to talk a lot more like this, Joe. The MAD and Maddington still need that money to keep coming in.”
She started to say more, but her cell rang.
sixty-seven
confession is good for the soul
SERENITY FELT GUILTY. She had given Joe two sleeping pills along with his pain pill and slipped out of the house as the Sunday morning sun came up.
All this guilt just to go to church.
She thought about what Joe had said.
Nobody has that kind of money, he’d said. Nobody has that kind of money.
That had to be it.
She pulled into the parking lot of the sprawling Queen of the Universe Catholic Church with its gigantic mural of Mary smiling over the solar system. It was empty except for a little knot of Beemers, Mercedes, and one mere Cadillac, which looked like the poor stepsister. All were parked at the small private chapel down the hill from the main sanctuary on top. Serenity pulled around the corner and found a hidden spot between two lilac bushes.
Just in case she needed privacy when she came out. If she came out running.
She slipped into the chapel and took a seat in the back row and studied the small crowd up front.
Every local businessman was in the second and third pew. Sunday morning, very early, was a command performance for a private mass before the regular church opened.
And in the front pew, Paul Molcut sat alone. When the heads all bowed for prayer, she walked to the front and slid in next to him. An usher, big but nondescript, appeared from nowhere and put his hand on her shoulder. Molcut opened his eyes and waved him away.
“Good to see you here, Ms. Hammer,” he said to her. “When I invited you to join my church, when I was at your library, I didn’t expect you to join us, at least not so easily.” He paused. “I’m glad that you respect the way things are.”
“I respect the way things are going to be.”
“So do I. But we may worship at two different churches.”
The priest had paused while they whispered. Molcut stood up.
“I think we’re done here for today, Padre. Thank you.”
The priest opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and faded out through a door behind the altar. The other men stood up and walked out, shooting glances at Serenity as they left.
Serenity said, “I know where the money comes from.”
Molcut put a finger to his lips. “Not here.”
He looked around and motioned to two elaborately-carved wooden closets at the back. Confessionals. He stood and walked to them, slow and tired, and Serenity followed. He took the one on the left and she opened the door to the one on the right. She went in and sat down on the cushioned bench that filled the darkened space, closing the door behind her. A screen slid open between them and she saw the dim outline of his head.
“There is too much chance,” he said, “of far-away people out there prying into our business.”
“Like Bentley’s auditor was prying at the library? I’m surprised that you don’t use your same silent companion to stop them, too.”
“He works for them, not me. But he does what he has to do.”
“Even at the library.”
He exhaled. “By any means necessary.”
Hearing one of Doom’s standard phrases come out of Molcut’s mouth took her by surprise. She didn’t say anything and he took that as a sign to continue.
“We were not willing to let Councilman Bentley find out where his money was coming from.” He paused. “Although I do think our ‘representative’ may have overreacted. He saw a convenient weapon and a means to deflect blame, and acted.” He paused again. “Ms. Hammer, I do not have complete control over this organization. Many people have tried to stop us, and many people have gotten hurt. Please don’t be one of them.”