"You want, I'll do your laundry. I'll throw it in the machine with mine," he heard Alexa call from outside the bathroom.
"Good. Thanks. I tossed 'em next to the sink," he shouted back. Then, through the frosted shower door, he saw her step into the bathroom, retrieving his clothes. He turned his back, pinching his eyes shut, trying to blank out his troubled thoughts, when, almost before he knew what was happening, the frosted glass door opened and Alexa was in the shower with him, standing there naked, the steam turning her beautiful body slick with its moisture.
"Move over, you're hogging the spray," she said.
"What're you doing?" Shane's mind was doing flip-flops.
"I feel… I feel…" she stopped, then looked up at him "like I don't exist… like I don't even want to."
"Me, too," he said softly.
"I thought if we…" She stopped. "Bad idea…"
Shane didn't say anything, just took her into his arms and held her. As her wet body slid up against him, for the first time in days he felt the tension disappear; the knot in his stomach released as they stood locked in a cathartic embrace. They remained like that for a long time holding each other, feeling each other's comfort and warmth. Then Shane felt his desire for her swelling and pushing between her legs, proving that he was still alive, still a man; perhaps all his failures of the past week could somehow be forged into a new beginning. He desperately wanted to start over. Then he felt her clutching him, pulling him closer, and was overtaken by a desire for her that was so intense, it brought tears to his eyes. "Is this right?" he said, asking for absolution, permission, and maybe directions all at the same time.
"Shut up," she whispered.
And then they were caressing each other in the steaming shower, Shane's mouth covering hers, his body pushing her back against the wet tiles on the wall of the small shower, kissing with abandon, feeling each other's warmth. Suddenly she pulled herself up, wrapping her arms around his neck, bringing her legs up around his waist. While she clung to him, he entered her, slowly at first, then thrusting more deeply. As her moans of pleasure washed over him, he felt changed and reborn.
Shane didn't know how long it lasted; time, in that small place, had become endless. They were in a wet cocoon of human ecstasy, and then he heard her cry out as he released inside her. She kissed him hard on the mouth, her breath mixing with his in the steaming shower.
Shane finally set her down, and they remained under the hot spray in a desperate embrace, almost afraid to let go, afraid to return to their individual fears and loneliness. Finally she took the bar of soap and began to wash his back, his arms, lathering him in erotic places. After she was finished, he did the same for her. They held each other in a sweet fragrance of body and soul. Shane felt different, stronger, more alive.
He looked down into her laser-blue eyes, which now seemed softer and filled with caring.
"Now we can start over," she said, putting his exact thoughts into words.
???
Later she made dinner and they sat at her kitchen table. She was wearing a white terry-cloth robe; he was wrapped in a towel.
After dinner she handed him his clothes, fresh from the dryer; they felt soft and were still warm as he put them on. When he walked into the living room, he noticed that there was renewed energy in his stride and a spring in his step.
They said very little, but as they locked her front door and headed to her car, she reached out, took his hand, and squeezed it.
Chapter 43
HE WAS BACK in the parking lot, studying the fourteen-story steel-and-glass building in Long Beach. They had waited for the sun to go down. It was 8:05 on Saturday night, and they were still using the staff car Shane had been given up in Arrowhead. Across the street, roof letters announced Spivack Development Corporation in five-foot-high blue neon.
"I feel like Bonnie and Clyde. Do you have this effect on everybody?" Alexa said. She was sitting in the Crown Vic next to Shane, putting on a pair of latex gloves so she wouldn't leave her prints behind, both of them feeling a sense of awkwardness from the passionate lovemaking they'd engaged in a few hours before.
"Y'know, you're the last person I would ever have thought I'd be pulling a second-story job with," he finally said. She ignored it.
"You said you were here before. Did you scout it? You got a way into this place?" She was all business, putting that memory out of reach, taking the binoculars out of the glove box, unwinding the strap and training them on the building.
"Look, things have changed. We both know it," he said softly.
"Yes, but… Shane, it's dangerous. We have to be either cops or lovers. We can't be both. You've seen what a mess that turns into when it happens… For now, we gotta do the job."
He knew she was right and finally nodded.
"So, did you scout it?" she asked again.
"Yeah… we can get to the roof by way of the fire stairs. Go down through a special staircase up there for the helicopter pad. It leads right down to Spivack's floor. The fire doors have interior bolt locks except on the first floor."
She nodded. "Y'know what pisses me off?"
"Ummmn," he answered, putting on his own pair of gloves.
"These binoculars piss me off Bushnell 16x35s with a waterproof case. I worked Southwest Patrol for three years with a cracked pair of six-power prewar Lens Masters with one side out of whack. Couldn't focus the right eyepiece, asked for new binocs ten, twelve times, was told it wasn't in the budget. And here, in this staff car, they leave 'em under the seat like throwaways."
"Yeah, and we don't get sailboats, either."
She didn't answer but continued to focus the binoculars on the building. "You think we try for the roof? Go up through the fire stairs, pry the lock up there, then go down one floor, hope the interior doors aren't wired?"
"You're a fun date," he said, finishing with his gloves, snapping the wristbands while she lowered the glasses.
"Spivack builds shopping centers and commercial real estate all over the place, right?" she said.
"Yeah, malls, sports complexes, city buildings anything where you've got high budgets and low administrative supervision costs."
"Tony Spivack, Logan Hunter, Chief Brewer, Mayor Crispin, and Ray Molar quite a five-man team," she said.
"With Tom Mayweather still at point guard. Seems pretty obvious they stole this land in Long Beach the naval yard to build something. Hotels or a huge resort would be my guess. It's right on the bay…"
"Why would Logan Hunter be part of it? He's a movie guy."
"I don't know. He likes press… maybe it's gonna be his new studio, with a theme park like Universal's… call it the Web. Lotsa rides, lotsa fuzzy cartoon characters greeting you at the gate in chipmunk costumes. Who the fuck knows?"
"Let's go," she said. "This isn't gonna get any easier the longer we wait."
They got out of the car and moved across the parking lot.
"If we get stopped, flash your tin," he said.
"Always my tin, my gun."
"You collected mine already, remember?"
"Stop bitching," she said, but they were both smiling.
Strange how that can happen, in the midst of losing Chooch and Brian. Despite feeling devastated in the face of that loss, he had first had a moment of uncontrolled sexual passion with her and now he was grinning like an idiot, adrenaline driving his emotions, skewing his senses while keeping his vision bright… both of them acting like kids snatching a pie off a bakery-shop windowsill.