James Conway - In Cold Blonde

He clung to her as he came, finishing with a deep, passionate kiss. He was still deep inside her. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered. “That was unbelievable.”

“It sure was,” she said. “And the best part is we’re just getting started.”

Adam smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Alice rolled them over so she was on top. “Only this time,” she said. “I’ll do all the work.”

And she began to make love to him.

Ryan and Syd drove to the Hollywood station. Syd knew something was up. Ryan had been unusually quiet. She’d expected him to finish the conversation he’d started before his ex-wife called. What could be a more provocative opening then, I need to tell you something ? But they’d driven in silence while her imagination rifled through a horrifying catalog of possibilities: We have to stop dating. I want a new partner. I’m going back to my ex-wife. I have herpes.

Finally, unhappily, Syd prompted him. “What was it you had to tell me?”

Ryan looked at her, confused; he’d been so preoccupied with the upcoming meeting with Anne that he’d blanked. “I’m sorry, sweetie, what?”

“You said you had something to tell me.”

Oh yeah, Ryan thought. The Lotto ticket. He briefly reconsidered, almost ashamed by the truth. Then glanced at Syd, at the fear in her eyes. Of course, he realized, she assumes I’m going to say something about us. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was hurt Syd, so he took a breath then told her about the garrulous guy in greasy coveralls who took forever in the 7-Eleven buying beef jerky, a six pack and a lottery ticket with his one dollar change. And how, after the tow truck driver left, Ryan bought a pack of Rolaids and walked into the parking lot to see the Lotto ticket on the ground and the tow truck driver getting in his vehicle. It would have been easy for Ryan to pick up the ticket and get the guy’s attention, but his stomach hurt and Ryan was so annoyed with the big-mouthed driver that he just let the guy drive off. Then he picked up the Lotto ticket and stuck it in his glove box.

“The Lotto ticket may be worth millions of dollars,” he concluded. “But it’s not mine.”

“Holy shit.”

“And then some.”

Syd sat back in her seat and let the implications settle in. “Let me ask you a few questions.”

“Shoot.”

“Was there a name on the tow truck driver’s coveralls?”

“Probably, but I didn’t notice.”

“On his truck?”

“I’m sure, but I didn’t pay any attention. Same for the license plate, I didn’t even look.”

“So you have no way of tracking him down?”

“No.”

“And did he ask the clerk for certain numbers or was it a quick pick.”

“A quick pick.”

“So the tow truck driver would have no idea what the numbers were or that he actually bought a winning ticket?”

“That’s right. And it was six months ago, I doubt he even remembers buying or losing it.”

Ryan had been through the identical thought process countless times himself since he found out the ticket was a winner, but it was nice to get someone else’s take on his dilemma.

“So no one would ever know that you didn’t buy the Lotto ticket.”

“That’s right.”

Syd liked to think she had a reliable moral compass. Well, except for murdering the motherfuckers who have done her wrong. And, like Ryan, she was a cop. She knew the law. “If I remember my Academy law classes properly,” Syd said, “lost property, in this case, the Lotto ticket, belongs to whoever owns it, in this case, the tow truck driver. Just because you find something doesn’t mean you now own it. The law requires that all lost property be turned in to the police. If you keep lost property and don’t disclose it, it’s theft. That applies to a bag of diamonds, an envelope full of money or a quarter lying on the ground. Finders are not legally entitled to be keepers.”

“Exactly. Even when, like in this case, no one knows its lost property. Even when, like in this case, the lost item is worth millions of dollars.”

“If you don’t claim the money, what happens to it?”

“I don’t know.”

“So, multimillion dollar question time; what’re you going to do?”

Ryan sighed. “I don’t know.” He pulled into the parking lot of the Hollywood Division, turned off the car. “I’m going to meet with Anne at seven, get a legal opinion.”

Anger flared inside Syd. She didn’t know Anne, didn’t know any of the details of their marriage, but instinctively Syd didn’t trust her. “You sure that’s a good idea? I mean, she’s your ex-wife, she could have an agenda.”

Ryan realized Syd was jealous, though in his mind she had no reason to be. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

“Want me to wait for you here?” Loaded question, he better, Syd thought.

“If you don’t mind, I shouldn’t be more than an hour or so.”

“No problem,” Syd said, relieved. “I’ve got plenty of work to do.” Syd wanted to lean over and kiss him, but other cops were in the parking lot so she just squeezed his hand and opened her car door.

“By the way,” Ryan said, stopping her. “What would you do?”

Syd thought about it for a moment. “What would I do or what do I think you should do?”

“What would you do?”

Syd smiled. “It doesn’t matter, I don’t have the ticket. You do.”

Ryan laughed. “Bitch. Okay, what do you think I should do?”

Syd may have only known Ryan for eight weeks but she felt she had a firm fix on his moral compass. This was a man who knew right from wrong. “There’s only one thing you can do,” she said.

That surprised him. “What?”

“Think about it,” Syd said and shut the door.

“What kind of answer is that?” Ryan called after her.

But Syd just smiled, turned her back and walked into the station.

It was all so confusing. She felt so good, so satisfied . Alice could never remember feeling such bliss. And it had nothing to do with the three incredible orgasms — her first orgasms with a man. In the past they had all come from masturbation.

No, her joy, yes, that’s what she was feeling, joy, came from lying next to a man she’d dreamt about for years. And now she lay naked, entwined in his arms as he slept peacefully. A dream comes true. Amazing.

This was the first truly good thing that had happened to her in years. Maybe ever, for that matter and she wanted to play it out. He was married, she knew, but she also knew that something happened to Adam, as well. She saw it in his eyes, the way he touched her, the way he kissed her. She wasn’t just another affair for him, she could tell. He was going to want to see her again, make her a part of his life.

And to her surprise, that’s what she wanted, too. Time was limited, of course. But all the more reason to make every minute count.

Alice slipped out of bed, grabbed her purse and walked into the bathroom then quietly closed and locked the door.

She looked at herself in the mirror. It always surprised her a bit seeing herself as a hot blonde with green eyes. In her mind’s eye she was always the dumpy, brunette Alice. But Alice had simply been the chrysalis before her metamorphosis into the Lady in Red.

She reached into her purse. Her hand passed the Colt Vest Pocket .25, passed the scalpel and grabbed her pill holder. She took it out, flipped open the afternoon dose, dumped the four pills in her hand: Arimidex, Tamoxifen and Cytoxan for the cancer and Aprepitant to control the nausea. She washed them down with sink water.

Seemed like a waste of time to her, but the Doctor said miracles happen. And now, suddenly, she wanted to milk this life of hers for every additional day.