As soon as he’d finished the horrible telling, the phone rang again. This time it was the boy, J.P. Donovan. He was out of breath, wanted to talk to the Sheriff and Jaspinder Singh knew, as he handed the phone over, that it was more bad news, so he wasn’t surprised when the Sheriff said, “It’s J.P. He’s calling from your house, Mr. Gordon. He had to break a window to get in. Seems like there’s trouble up there.”
Rick jumped from the police car and ran into the house. Ann was stretched out on the sofa, looking ashen. “I’m here, Annie,” he said, brushing the damp hair from her face.
“ Judy,” Ann whispered. She was fading fast and she knew it.
“ I’m here,” Judy said.
Ann struggled, held out her hand.
Judy took it and gave her a gentle squeeze.
“ Thank you.” Ann sighed as she took her hand back. Everything was going to be all right now.
“ Annie, what’s wrong?” Rick said.
“ Come closer, Flash.” She reached out, rubbed her husband’s cheek. “Give me your scar,” she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. He bent his head low, offering the scar under his ear and she ran her tongue along it. “Smile for me one last time.”
He did and she died.
Chapter Five
Six hours till Sherry. Evan was lost in the thought of her. The creamy brown eyes and full lipped smile hung in the haze of his memory as he rolled the hundred dollar bill.
Smiling with anticipation, he bent over the table, put the rolled bill to his nose, and inhaled. Then he sat back and felt the calm course through his body. The first line was always the best. He listened to the sounds of the Stones playing low in the background. For a few seconds he was one with the music. He was completely aware.
He opened his eyes and bent to inhale the second line, when he heard the bell. He inhaled quickly, annoyed that the anticipated rush was being interrupted.
“ Who is it?” he called downstairs.
“ Rick.”
“ Come on up.” He heard the door open and footsteps on the stairs. He covered the residue on the table with a magazine and stuffed the rolled hundred into his shirt pocket.
“ I thought you would be jogging,” he said, as his friend came into the living room.
“ Not today,” Rick Gordon said, “I’m going back to California.”
“ You know you can stay as long as you like.”
“ Hey, New York’s great, but I belong somewhere on the Coast. Besides, I’ve been abusing your hospitality for almost six months. It’s about time I got on with my life.”
“ You’ve been paying rent on the apartment. If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably be renting the downstairs to starving students. You know the kind, always late on the rent. Parties, girls, noise.”
“ I gotta go, Evan.”
“ When are you leaving?”
“ Tonight, I’m going to stop in L.A. for a few days and see Christina, then it’s back to Tampico. I was hoping you’d give me a ride to the airport.”
“ I can’t, I got a date with Sherry. I’ll get my father to do it.”
“ You sure?”
“ I think he likes you better than me. He’ll be glad to do it.”
Evan Hatch walked across the room to the phone and tapped the buttons.
Rick dropped on the divan, closed his eyes and listened to Mick Jagger’s voice coming out of his friend’s speakers.
“ You can’t always get what you want,” repeated the chorus, “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.”
Very true, he thought, before Ann’s death, he’d managed to get anything he’d ever wanted out of life. And he hadn’t been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he’d earned what he’d wanted. He was no stranger to hard work. He’d taken risks and they’d paid off. But since Ann’s death, the only thing he wanted was her back, and the only thing he needed was food and water and a place to sleep.
“ What time you wanna be picked up?” Evan’s voice snapped him out of his reverie.
“ Two, my plane leaves at 5:00, that should be plenty of time.”
“ Can you be here by 2:00?” Rick heard him say, then he watched him hang the phone up.
“ Thanks,” Rick said.
“ You sure you’re ready?”
“ I’ve got to go back. I have to put the house on the market, deal with her things and sell the Jeep.”
“ You sure that’s the best?”
“ I can’t live in that house without Ann. Everything there reminds me of her, the house, the furniture, the Jeep. I have to shed it all.”
“ Maybe that’s not such a bad thing, being reminded of her. She occupied a large chunk of your life.”
“ What time you seeing Sherry?” Rick asked, changing the subject.
“ Lunch at one.”
“ When are you going to let it go?”
“ Never.”
“ Jeez, you gotta get her out of your mind.”
“ I can’t. It must be love.”
Evan had been in love with Sherry Quilvang since a cold New York winter day in 1986 when he’d stumbled into her at the Record Rack. He had been making a cold call and she had been the girl behind the counter. Although he had fallen in love with her at first sight, she had been in love with her employer, who also happened to be her husband. Over the years he’d become her friend and confidant, and, during her rocky marriage, had spent many an hour over a bottle of wine acting the big brother.
“ I gotta pack.” Rick offered his hand and Evan grasped it. “Thanks for the use of the place, you’re a good friend.”
“ You’d do the same for me,” Evan said.
“ Will I see you before I go?”
“ No, I have to go to the Village and drop off some CDs before I meet Sherry.”
“ Good luck.” Rick turned and went down the stairs.
“ I’ll see you in California next month,” Evan yelled after him.
“ Looking forward to it,” Rick shouted back, then he was out the door.
Alone again, Evan removed the magazine, laid out two more lines, then inhaled them. Feeling as good as he thought he was going to get, he donned a black leather jacket and bounced down the stairs and out the front door. He walked around to the back, flicking the button on the garage door opener and climbed into his BMW. He was halfway down the street before the door thudded shut.
When he rounded the first corner, a red Toyota started and followed. It stayed with him all the way to the train station.
Sitting across from Sherry in the restaurant, he felt the tension, something was different. She kept changing the subject and fidgeting with the menu, and the way she kept crossing and uncrossing her legs was putting him on edge. He wondered what was bothering her.
“ Would you like to start with a drink?” the approaching waitress asked.
“ I’ll have a double vodka martini, straight up, no olive,” Sherry said.
Evan was taken aback. She usually only drank wine. Something was definitely up.
“ And you, sir?” the waitress asked.
“ Make it the same.” If she was going to drink doubles, then he was, too.
The waitress left and Sherry buried her face in the menu.
“ What’s up?” he asked her.
“ Nothing.” Her perfect teeth barely squeaked through a loose smile. He noticed a drop of sweat making its way from her hairline down her forehead. She was wound up tighter than Mick Jagger’s pants.
“ You sure?” he asked her.
“ You know, we’ve never been on a real date.”
“ I don’t think your husband would appreciate it.”
“ You’re probably right, but I don’t think I care anymore.”
Evan was stunned, he felt like he’d been hit with a hammer. In all the years that he’d been having lunch with her, she hadn’t once suggested that she was interested in anything more. Greg and Sherry were the perfect couple. He was a great guy, confident and sure of himself, allowing Sherry to have her own friends. The man hadn’t once hinted that he objected to his twice a month lunches with his wife or their frequent phone calls. If Sherry was his wife, he’d watch over her like the environmental wackos watched over the California gray spotted owl.