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She leaned back and touched his nose. “Then don’t worry. Remember what I told you after your surgery when you were still in the hospital?”

“You told me to stick out my tongue and wiggle it. I did. And you said, ‘You have all that any man needs to satisfy a woman.’ ”

He lightly licked her wrist, ran circles around it with his tongue, and kissed the inside of her forearm. She sighed happily. “Oh, you do remember that. I had said that to so many patients, but with you I was very…”

“You turned red.”

“Yes, I did, because I was attracted to you, Detective.”

“And I was to you, pain nurse.” Will pulled her in for more kissing. It had been so long since he had been with a woman. And this woman had been on his mind for so long. Part of him could barely believe it was happening, that he could be doing this after his surgery and with the day-to-day of his disability. But all of him was enjoying it, with every kiss, touch, and pressure of body on body sweeping away his apprehensions.

As she rocked against his pelvis, she let out a moan.

Still, he felt an obligation, almost like the need to give her a Miranda warning. “What if I get another tumor and end up in a motorized wheelchair or dead?”

She felt heat spreading down to her feet. “What if I get hit by a bus tomorrow?” she whispered.

Then she was taking off his tie, unbuttoning his shirt. “So stop worrying. Anyway…” Her hand was playing with the fly of his slacks. “Something’s happening down here.”

“Mmmmm?”

“Now relax, sir, I’m a nurse.”

***

They lay together in his bed upstairs, the room dark except for pale blue light filtering in from the street. Cheryl Beth looked forward to taking in the view Will’s balcony displayed, but they had other things to do when they first came up to the room. His suit and her black pantyhose were downstairs. She felt spent and completely content. His face looked almost boyish, his hair curled up on the pillow, and his sleepy eyes barely open.

He stuck out his tongue.

She smiled. “You’re a very good bad boy, Will Borders.”

Slipping on his dress shirt, his only piece of clothing that made it upstairs, she stepped out on the narrow balcony.

“This is beautiful,” she called back inside. To her left, she could see the back of Christ Hospital.

“Down below is Jackson Hill Park,” he said. “It’s where the old Mount Auburn incline ran. Most people don’t even know that park exists. I wish they wouldn’t have torn out all the old inclines.”

She stepped back inside, closed the door, and lay beside him again.

“By the way,” he said. “You have perfect breasts.”

She ran a hand down his chest. “I’m glad you like.” She had always thought they were too small.

“And legs and mind and face and…”

“What was that clicking on your radio after we turned off the light downstairs?” she asked. “It was like, click-click, then a pause and it happened again.”

“Oh, those jerks. They were only messing with me.”

“I hope they couldn’t hear us.” She giggled, not really concerned.

Will explained how a double-click of a mic button could signify “okay” or “affirmative.” After the second double-click, a dispatcher had come on to tell the units to keep the channel clear.

“You guys are as bad as nurses,” she said, nestling her head into his shoulder. The sheets smelled like Will, and now like both of them, and that made her happy. His heart was beating normal sinus rhythm. That made her happy, too.

His right leg suddenly thrust up in a crooked position.

“Did you do that deliberately?”

“No, it’s the spasticity. It usually kicks in an hour or so after I lie down. Then I have to sit up and shake my leg until it calms down, or I fall asleep in the chair and have bad dreams. Whine, whine, whine.”

“Poor baby.” She kissed his right thigh. It was remarkably muscled up compared with the left. “Here.” She pushed it down and it immediately pulled back up. “Going to be stubborn, eh?” She rose up from beside him and swung across his leg, sitting on the quads. The muscles fought her but gradually eased up.

“Better?”

“It feels great.”

Cheryl Beth felt a little sizzle from pressure of his quads between her legs, and managed, “Uh-huh.”

She was about to come again when the phone rang.

Late-night phone calls were never good. As a pain nurse, Cheryl Beth knew they meant something was wrong with a patient, that she would have to throw on clothes and rush back to the hospital. She felt Will’s body tense beside her but he made no attempt to answer. In a few seconds, a voice came on his machine. The voice sounded distorted, like a robot out of an old sci-fi movie.

“Detective Borders, are you fucking with me? ‘Cause of death unknown…may be suicide.’ Are you not taking me seriously? If your situation didn’t interest me, I would immediately release the truth about my deathscapes to the public. Let the police be shown for fools. Let the city live in fear. I know you’re there, detective. I know you can hear me. Don’t assume you or the pretty nurse are safe…”

Will grabbed for the handset, nearly sending Cheryl Beth tumbling off the bed.

“Gone,” he said and cursed. He spoke into his hand-held radio. “He called a minute ago. Did you get it on the land-line tap?”

“Affirmative, 7140. Too short for a trace. Sounded like the voice distortion machine you can buy in any spy shop.”

“He’s watching my house.”

“It’s all clear out here. He may have seen you at Fountain Square or the symphony.”

Will set the radio back on the bedside table and pulled her close to him. She laid her head on his big chest and listened to his heart slowly stop its race. She could feel her own, whacking away under her sternum.

“He knows I’m a nurse,” she whispered.

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry I got you into this.”

“You didn’t.” She liked it that he called her “baby.” She said, “He killed three of my students. For all I know, I was in this before you were.”

He stroked her hair and thought about that. Then: “Do you know how to handle a pistol?”

“My daddy taught me.”

“Good. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“I know.”

He started to speak again, but she held her hand against his cheek, “Now, hush,” gently, and they held each other, skin on skin from face to toes, the best feeling in the world, no matter what waited tomorrow, what waited outside the bricks of the wall. She felt a brave peace.

Saturday

Chapter Twenty-six

Lieutenant Fassbinder called an all-hands meeting for ten. Everyone was fueling up on coffee and in a bad mood for being brought in on the weekend. Once again, Will was back on the fifth floor of 800 Broadway, sitting at his old desk. He was the only one not in a bad mood, and the reason, Cheryl Beth, was sitting in the waiting room.

“Ideas, people,” Fassbinder was saying, pacing a trench in the floor. His voice was businesslike, but his hands kept clenching and unclenching. “I need ideas. The brass are on me like white on rice and that means I’m going to be kicking every little turd from them right down on you. Ideas!”

“We need somebody with Cheryl Beth,” Dodds said.

Fassbinder stopped and gave Will a stare so filled with anger that no one would have been surprised if he had started foaming at the mouth. “I think Borders has that covered. Don’t you, Detective Borders.”

Dodds persisted. “Starting Monday, she’s going to be back on the job. She’s a target. Do you want me to replay…”

“No, I don’t want you to replay the goddamned recording. We’ve heard it five times.” Fassbinder stalked to Dodds’ desk and rapped his fist on it. “Do you know how much overtime this is costing?”