Paul Levine - Kill All the Lawyers

"Bobby, I like you. I really do. But let's just kiss for now."

Sweat poured out of him, and his stomach heaved. But his boner was so hard, it had started to hurt. He took her left hand in his right hand and pinned it to her side. Then he slid his left hand around her back and tried to unfasten her pink bra.

"Bobby! No!"

She wriggled left and right, but maybe she just wanted to excite him more.

"The female always yields to the strong man."

He couldn't unsnap the damn thing, so he yanked the bra, and it slipped halfway around her torso.

"Ouch! Bobby, what are you doing?"

"Be a man, Robert. Take what you want. Maria will love it. Trust me. I know."

"You'll love it, Maria," Bobby said, deepening his voice. "Trust me. I know."

The air should not smell so sweet on a night like this, Steve thought.

Top down on the Mustang, the scent of jasmine in the moist air, a full moon ducking in and out of clouds, he drove down Old Cutler Road, more worried than he had let on to the others.

With all the chaos swirling around-Janice and Kreeger, Victoria and Irene, Freskin and Goldberg- Steve wondered if he had been spending enough time with Bobby. Had he let his own problems distract him from the number one priority in his life?

Stop worrying. Bobby's okay.

Steve kept telling himself that. The boy hadn't run away from home; he hadn't been kidnapped. Maria's the first girl who showed him the rhinestone in her navel, so he's experimenting. They're probably necking somewhere under a palm tree, and they'll show up at dawn, sweaty and mosquito-bitten. It's normal.

He's okay, dammit. Stop worrying.

Steve had already checked out Cocoplum, driving down to the bay, then coming back up to the circle at the Gables Waterway. Now he hung a left at Matheson Hammock. He passed the deserted picnic area and drove parallel to the bicycle path, which wound through a tangle of black-and-red mangrove trees. He stopped at the saltwater pond. No cars in the parking lot. Bicycle rack empty.

No Bobby. And no Maria.

Steve got out of the car and walked around the pond, just yards from the open bay. The tide was out, and a marshy smell hung in the air. A passel of herons tracked across the wet sand, seeking an early breakfast. Across the bay, a few lights twinkled in the condos of Key Biscayne. To the north, the downtown skyscrapers were dark.

The silence was broken by a Boston Whaler chugging out of the channel, an early start for a day of fishing. Over the ocean at the horizon, flashes of lightning brightened a ribbon of clouds. The wind was kicking up, rippling the water. The full moon was obscured by a growing cloud cover but still bright enough to light the sky, like a lamp through a shade. The forecast was for rain, a band of squalls in advance of a cold front.

Steve got back in the car and drove farther south on Old Cutler, pulling into Fairchild Tropical Garden. He'd brought Bobby there a few times, the boy enjoying the peacefulness of the place. Noises still tightened him up. Tranquillity seemed essential to his therapy.

Steve parked at the gate. Everything locked. He got out of the car, leaving the headlights on. Crouched down on a narrow dirt path that ran up to a perimeter fence near the entrance. Next to a hibiscus hedge, bicycle tracks. Two bikes had been here.

Okay, so what?

Well, for starters, the tracks were fresh. It had rained briefly in late afternoon, and the tracks would have been made after that.

Great. Give yourself a Boy Scout badge, but like I said before, so what?

Well, you couldn't ride past this point. The dirt path dead-ended at the fence. So the bikers must have stopped and parked their bikes here. Maybe they went inside.

Yeah? So. .

Steve didn't know. Except. . in the reddish dirt two sets of tire tracks approached the fence, but only one left. So what the hell happened to the other bike?

Just then, Steve's cell phone rang, the sound jarring in the stillness. On the screen, he recognized his home phone number.

"Yeah, Vic?"

"Bobby just rode up."

"Great. Maria at her house?"

"No." He heard the tension in her voice. "Steve- Bobby doesn't know where she is."

Just before dawn, Steve slid the Mustang to a stop in his driveway and someone screamed.

He hadn't seen Eva Munoz-Goldberg running toward his front door. She nimbly leapt to one side and the front fender just missed her. In great shape from step class or tai chi, Steve figured. Good thing, or he'd be facing vehicular manslaughter charges.

Eva's momentum carried her toward the flagstone path leading to the house. She hopped over a small shrub, then lost her balance on the dew-slick flagstone. The second scream came when she pitched forward, scraping a knee. Steve admired the way Eva scrambled to her feet and headed for his front door without stopping to curse at him.

Bobby's bike was leaning against the pepper tree. Meaning the boy was inside. Steve heard the shouts before he made it to the front door. He found Eva in the living room, her knee bleeding, hair a mess, shrieking at Bobby. "Where is she! Where's my daughter!"

Janice slung a protective arm around Bobby's shoulder and kept her considerable girth between her son and Eva. "Back off, bitch, or you're gonna need some more plastic surgery."

"Thank God you're here, Steve," Victoria said.

Steve wasn't sure which was more disconcerting, Eva screeching or Janice holding on to Bobby. "C'mere, kiddo." He pried the boy away from his mother, hoisted him up by the armpits, and worked both arms under his butt. It's easy to do with a toddler, not a twelve-year-old, even one as gangly as Bobby.

Bobby was trembling and pale and he smelled sour. He looped his legs around Steve's waist and put his head on a shoulder.

"You stink, kiddo."

"Threw up."

He carried Bobby into the kitchen, just to get away from the others. He could hear Victoria telling the two women to give them some space, let Steve handle this.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Steve."

"It's okay. Where's Maria?"

"Dunno. We were at Fairchild. She got mad at me and left."

"What made her mad?"

"I was stupid."

"Yeah?"

"I tried what Dr. Bill said. ."

Steve felt his jaw clench and a wave a heat flared through his gut. "Dr. Bill?"

"He said I should take Maria there at the full moon because that's when girls get really hot. And then she'd want to do it."

"But when you got there, Maria said no?"

"Yeah."

"And what'd you do?"

"At first, I sort of pushed her. But then I stopped. 'Cause of that dorky stuff you taught me. 'No means no. Maybe means no. It takes maturity to keep your purity.' All that stuff."

"Good boy. But Maria was still mad at you?"

"I guess. I got sick and hurled chunks all over some bromeliads. I went over to the lake to clean up, and when I got back she wasn't there. I got my bike, but hers was gone. I thought she was riding home."

"Did you try to catch up with her?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Because that's what I would have done. Ride really fast. If she only had a few minutes' head start, you would have caught her."

"That's what I tried. But I never saw her."

Because she was snatched! When she came to pick up her bike, someone was waiting.

It came back to him then. That day in Kreeger's office.

"Just a hypothetical question, Solomon. If Robert killed Maria, wouldn't you do anything to keep him out of prison? Wouldn't you even take the rap for him?"

Steve felt his arms involuntarily tighten around his nephew. Conflicting emotions. Thankful Bobby was safe. But absolute horror at the thought that his girlfriend could be dead by now. Maybe Bobby heard Steve's breaths quicken or felt his heart thumping. Whatever it was, the boy whimpered.