"This is kind of creepy," Gaby whispered as she paused in the dark, unsure where to go.
"Relax. Eat. Enjoy." Luther chose seats for them in the back, in a corner. As Gaby got settled, being careful not to spill anything, he whispered, "This is the make-out corner."
The nickering screen lit his face, showing his wolfish smile. "Really?"
He laughed. "I thought that'd get your interest. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if lust hadn't been consummated here a few times."
Eyeing the folding seats, Gaby asked, "Is that even possible?"
"Very. It just takes a little ingenuity."
"And you have loads of ingenuity?"
"Right now, yeah. But I want you to enjoy the movie and the food, so we'll put off this discussion for another time."
Just like Luther to get her curiosity roused, then shut down. "But—"
He kissed her. "Shhh. Watch the movie." He settled his arm around her and, as if he'd read her thoughts, added in a whisper close to her ear, "After the movie, I promise, we'll pick up on the conversation again."
Oh. Well then. She supposed that'd be okay. "I'm holding you to that." With that declaration made, Gaby settled back in her seat, propped her feet on the seat back in front of her, and absorbed the unique experience of watching a movie on the big screen.
Chapter Sixteen
When the credits began to roll, Gaby roused herself from her lethargic pose and mellow mood. Wow. Never had she felt so peaceful, so… outside herself and her annoying insights. Who knew a little dose of unreality could be so relaxing?
Theater lights flickered on, pushing away the darkness. She turned to Luther only to find him studying her. "What?"
Rather than share her mellow disposition, an earthy appetite intensified his hard-edged allure. "I like seeing you like this."
"This?"
He looked at her mouth. "Soft."
That got her back up. "I'm not. Ever."
"Yeah you are, Gaby," he insisted, and his gaze dropped somewhere below her chin and above her knees. "In lots of places."
Gaby snorted. "Now you just sound corny." But he didn't. Not really.
Luther smiled, ready to say something—and his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Resigned, he settled back. "Damn, I'm sorry. But even off duty, I need to take this."
While he lifted out the phone, Gaby stood and let her seat fold. "No problem."
Into the phone, he said, "Hello?" He listened, frowned, and a second later, his gaze settled on Gaby again.
"Hang on, Ann." Covering the mouthpiece, he searched Gaby's face. "I need to take this in private."
So he could talk to Ann. Gaby's lip curled. "Yeah. Right." She made no attempt to hide her scorn. "I need some fresh air now, anyway." Shoving past him, she said, "I'll be hanging out front."
"You won't wander off?"
Like a halfwit? Or a child? "If I decide to leave, I'll tell you first." As she walked away, she heard Luther snarl something, then go back to his conversation on the phone.
Grumbling her way through the theater lobby, Gaby shoved open the front doors and stepped out into the drowning humidity.
She paced.
Up one side of the sidewalk and then back again. Disgusted with herself, she dropped down to sit on the dirty curb and stared at her feet.
Jealous.
That's what she was. And stupid. Real stupid.
Why should she give a damn if the detective liked Ann? It wasn't as if the two of them had any future together, anyway. And no one in her right mind would expect Luther Cross to play in celibacy. Not long.
Gaby was deep into her own misery when from somewhere to her left, a small voice said, "Hi."
Jerking her head around so fast that she almost gave herself whiplash, Gaby eyed the girl—the one she'd told Mort she wanted to see—standing on the sidewalk behind her.
"You!" Gaby couldn't credit such a coincidence. Hell, she didn't believe it. No way.
What did it mean?
Overly cautious, the girl inched closer. "You remember me?"
"Course I do." Cleaned up and without the blood and tears, something recognizable remained. It was in her eyes, some world-weary cynicism too deep for one of her young years.
What stumped Gaby most was the soft yellow aura enveloping her in a loving embrace. The color of mental ability and great purpose seemed out of place on one so… misguided. The girl probably had no idea yet of the important role she'd play in life.
Hopefully she'd realize it before it was too late.
Today, she wore a super-short denim skirt and a pale pink T-shirt that hugged her body too closely, showing off details better left undiscovered.
With an eerie foreboding, Gaby gave the girl a questioning look.
The high, chunky wooden heels of her sandals clunked on the sidewalk as she shifted. "You live around here?"
Thoughts moiling, Gaby chose a deliberate, casual pose, relaxing her spine, propping her elbows on her knees. "Not too far away. You?"
"Not really." The girl eyed the spot beside Gaby. "You mind if I join ya? My feet are killin' me."
"It's a free country."
"Not really, it ain't." The girl sidled up and carefully lowered herself to the curb. "Not for girls like me."
"Like you?"
"Yeah, you know. A whore. Alone and poor and stuff." She stretched out her legs and wiggled her dusty toes. "I've been walkin' and walkin' for hours, it seems."
She sat so close that Gaby inhaled the stale odor or overused cologne, sweat, and sex. Nose wrinkling, Gaby eased away a few inches. "What's your name?"
"Bliss."
That had Gaby's eyes rolling. "You going to tell me that's your real name?"
"No." Bliss picked at a tiny scab on her knee. "But it's pretty, don'tcha think?"
"I suppose." Gaby also supposed she wouldn't get the truth from the girl, so she didn't bother trying. What she called herself didn't really matter. Not in the bigger scheme of things.
What did she want? "I'm Gaby."
Bliss nodded, let out a long sigh. Attempting an overt friendliness, she shook back her hair, folded her hands in her lap, and smiled at Gaby. "I usually hang out with Rose, but I haven't seen her for a couple days now."
"Rose?"
"Another hooker."
The smile shrank away.
The idle hands grew fidgety again.
"She's my friend. My only friend, I guess. I was lookin' for her down this way, and that's when I saw you."
So much worry hung in Bliss's words, Gaby had to ask. "Where did your friend, Rose, go?"
Rounded shoulders lifted. "I dunno." She stared away. "I'm thinkin' maybe she got tired of me hangin' around."
Sympathy wrestled with Gaby's natural sense of caution. Something wasn't right, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "I doubt that's it."
"Well, she used to come lookin' for me at nights, almost like a momma would."
Bliss's bottom lip quivered, but Gaby sensed it wasn't so much with sadness as with fear.
"Sometimes," Bliss whispered, "if'n she wasn't workin' she'd even let me stay with her."
"Rose has a house?"
Bliss gave her a look of incredulity. "No."
"Ail apartment then?"
Arms wrapped herself, Bliss shook her head—and couldn't meet Gaby's gaze. "Most of us on the street jus' look for a place out of the weather, where cops won't trip over us. Rose found a place in the woods."
"In the woods?"
"Yeah. Me and her sometimes stayed there, in this old abandoned place. That's all."
Old abandoned place. The pieces—the conspiracy—began to click together. "Where, Bliss?"
Something in Gaby's tone made Bliss withdraw. "We didn't break in or nothin'."
"Where?"
At Gaby's stern voice, Bliss jumped and looked at her with accusation and hurt and… more fear. "It's an old hospital or something."