Chapter 58
"NO WONDER the bride didn't wear white," Raleigh frowned and said as I told him about my interview with Merrill Shortley. McBride had set us up for dinner at Nonni's, an Italian place on the lake, a short walk from our hotel. Raleigh's interview with the groom's parents had yielded nothing eventful. James Voskuhl had been an aspiring musician who had floated on the edge of the music scene in Seattle, finally hooking his way into representing a couple of upcoming bands. He had no known connection to San Francisco. "The killer knew Kathy," I said. "How else would he find her here? They had a relationship." "Right up to the end?" he mused. "To the very end," I answered. "Meaning maybe here, in Cleveland. These weren't choir girls Merrill said this guy was older, married, kinky, predatory. It fits the pattern of the murders. Someone she knew in San Francisco must have seen Red Beard. Somebody knows. Merrill claims that Kathy was protecting her lover, possibly because he was a celebrity." "You think this Merrill Shortley has more to add?" "Maybe. Or the family. I got the feeling they were holding something back." He had ordered a '97 Chianti and when it came he tilted his glass. "Here's to David and Melanie, Michael and Becky, James and Kathy." "Let's toast them when we catch this pathetic bastard," I said. It was the first time we'd been alone in Cleveland, and suddenly I was nervous. We had an entire evening to fill, and no matter how we kept steering back to the case or joking how "this wasn't a date," there was this pull, this bass chord twanging inside me, telling me that this was no time to start anything with anyone, not even handsome and charming Chris Raleigh. Then why had I changed into a baby blue sweater and nice slacks instead of staying with the chambray shirt and khakis I'd worn all day? We ordered. I had osso bucco, spinach, a salad; Raleigh, a veal pail lard "Maybe it was someone on her job?" Raleigh said. "Or connected with her job?" "I told Jacobi to check out her firm in Seattle. Her father said she still came down to San Francisco on business. I want to see if that's the case." "And if it isn't?" "Then either she was hiding something or they are." He took a sip of wine. "Why would she go through with a wedding if she was still involved with this guy?" I shrugged. "They all said Kathy was finally settling down. I'd like to see what she was like back then, if this is what they meant by settling down." I was thinking that I wanted another crack at the sister, Hillary. I remembered something she had said. Old habits are hard to crack. I had thought she was talking about drugs, parties. Did she mean Red Beard? "McBride tells me tomorrow morning we should be able to review some film at the museum." "The guy was there, Raleigh," I said with certainty. "He was there that night. Kathy knew her killer. We just have to find out who he is." Raleigh poured a little more wine into my glass. "We're partners now, aren't we, Lindsay?" "Sure," I said, a little surprised by the question. "Can't you tell I trust you?" "I mean, we've been through three double murders, we're committed to seeing it through, I backed you up with Mercer. I even helped clean up after dinner at your place." "Yeah, so?" I smiled. But his face had a cast of seriousness to it. I was trying to figure out where he was going. "What do you say, maybe it's about time you started calling me Chris."
Chapter 59
AFTER DINNER, Chris and I walked down by the tree lined lakefront toward our hotel. A cool, misty breeze lapped at my face. We didn't say much. That same nervous apprehension was tingling on the surface of my skin. Occasionally, our arms brushed. He had his jacket off, and there was a solid outline to his shoulders and arms. Not that I was noticing superficial things like that. "It's still early," he said. "Five-thirty, our time," I replied. "I could still catch Roth. Maybe I should bring him up to date." Raleigh grinned. "You already called Jacobi. I bet he was probably in Roth's office before he hung up the phone." As we walked, it was as if this unbearable force were pulling me close, then pushing me away. "Anyway," I said, "for once I don't feel like calling in." "What do you feel like?" Raleigh asked. "Why don't we just walk." "The Indians are playing. You want to sneak our way in? It must be the fifth inning." "We're cops, Raleigh." "Yeah, that would be bad. You want to dance, then?" "No," I said, even firmer. "I don't want to dance." Every word seemed charged with a hidden, electric message. "What I'm starting to feel like" -- I turned to him" is that I'm having a hard time remembering to call you Chris." "And what I'm starting to feel like," he answered, facing me, "is I'm having a hard time trying to pretend that nothing's going on." "I know," I murmured breathlessly. "But I just can't." It sounded really stupid, but as much as I wanted him, there was a greater hesitation inside holding me back. "I know… but I just can't. What does that mean?" "It means I'm feeling things, too. And that part of me wants to go with those feelings. But right now, I just don't know if I can. It's complicated, Chris." Every nerve in my body was on alert. We found ourselves walking again, the breeze from the lake suddenly cooling the sweat that had broken out on my neck. "You mean it's complicated because we're working together?" "That," I lied. I'd dated guys on the force once or twice. "That… and what else?" Raleigh said. A thousand desires inside me were screaming to give in. What was going through my mind was crazy. I wanted him to touch me; and I didn't. We were alone on the waterfront. At that moment, if he held me, if he bent and kissed me, I didn't know what I would do. "I do want to," I said, my fingers reaching for his hand, staring into his deep blue eyes. "You're not telling me everything," he said. It took everything I had to hold off confessing. I don't know why I didn't. A deep part of me wanted him to want me, and to keep thinking I was strong. I could feel the heat from his body, and I thought he could feel the wavering resolve in mine. "I just can't right now," I said softly. "You know, I won't always be your partner, Lindsay." "I know that. And maybe I won't always be able to say no." I don't know if I was disappointed or relieved to see our hotel up ahead. Part of me wanted to run to my room, throw open the windows, and just breathe in the night air. I was sort of happy I wouldn't have to make that decision, when Raleigh took me by surprise. He leaned over without warning and pressed his lips on mine. The kiss was so soft, as if he were gently asking, Is this okay? I let the kiss linger warmly. Soft hands… soft lips. It wasn't as if I hadn't imagined this happening. It was just as I had imagined. I wanted to be in control, but here it was, out of the blue, and I was giving in. But just as I was starting to give him myself, the fear caught up to me- the fear of the inescapable truth. I dropped my head, slowly pulled away. "That was nice. For me, anyway," Raleigh said, resting his forehead against mine. I nodded but said, "I can't, Chris." "Why are you always holding back, Lindsay?" he asked. I wanted to say, Because I am deceiving you. Tell him everything that was going on. But I was content to deceive, though I did it with the greatest yearning I had felt in years. "I just want to nail Red Beard," I answered.