James Conway - In Cold Blonde

Syd took the list, double-checked. Just one Blake, Blake Hunter, and he lived in Malibu. Syd stuffed the list back in her backpack, stood up. “Mr. and Mrs. Waterman, thank you very much.”

“Detective,” Betty said, “Do you think Alice is right? Do you think we sold her out?”

“Don’t ask her that,” Cliff said. “She won’t give us an honest answer. I mean, you can’t really, can you?” Cliff asked Syd. “You’re just going to say what we want to hear.”

“And what is it you want to hear?” Syd asked.

“Betty wants to hear that we did the right thing,” Cliff said. “Which we did.”

“Let me ask you this,” Syd said. “When the lawyer offered the cash settlement, did you ask Alice which she would prefer, the money or a trial?”

“Of course not, she was just a kid, besides she was in no state of mind to decide.”

Syd nodded. She knew what she should say, and Syd also knew the truth. She chose. “You did do the right thing, for you. You spared yourself the embarrassment of everyone learning in open court that your daughter was promiscuous. But you did a terrible disservice to your daughter. You prevented her from fighting back against the men who raped her, from punishing the men who raped her. The men she is punishing now. So not only did you betray Alice, you are responsible for turning your daughter from rape victim into a murderer.”

Cliff stared at Syd, stunned by her honesty. Betty was shocked too. But it didn’t stop her from turning to her husband with an, I told you so glare on her face.

“Is that what you wanted to hear, Mr. Waterman?” Syd left without waiting for an answer.

Syd drove quickly. With luck she was just over an hour from Malibu. Of course, she could call dispatch and have the place surrounded in a matter of minutes, and she almost made that call. But Syd wanted to catch the Lady in Red herself. Not for the glory of the capture, but so she could have a chance to talk to her.

And now Syd had an answer for the question, why now? Why had Alice Waterman waited eleven years to get revenge for the rapes? Because she was given a death sentence by one of her shrinks. And since she thought she was going to die, she had nothing to lose by killing the men who attacked her. She wouldn’t be risking jail or the needle for her murders because she was doomed already.

Except the diagnosis was a lie.

A trick to help poor Alice straighten out her life.

Syd felt a growing affinity with Alice Waterman. And seeing the house she grew up in tonight, the weak mother, bullying father, hearing about how she was betrayed by her parents and abused by men only made Syd want to meet her more.

She’d still have to arrest her, of course. She had no illusions about somehow helping the Lady in Red get away with murder. But she felt a bond with Alice, a bond she wanted, needed to share.

Now the only question was, what to do about Ryan? She wanted to share these feelings with him. Wanted to tell him about who she really was, why she understood the Lady in Red.

Could they actually be a couple if he didn’t know all of her secrets?

More importantly, were they even a couple now? What was he doing, right now, with that bitch, Anne?

One way to find out, Syd decided. Call him.

She picked up her cell phone and hit the one on her speed dial.

The trouble started on the elevator. Ryan and Anne were alone and Anne shot Ryan a mischievous look. “Should I hit the Stop button?”

Ryan laughed, the memories flooding back.

When they were married, Ryan and Anne loved to make love in public. Trader Vic’s was the first time, but so exhilarating they found themselves daring each other to have sex almost anywhere. Anne climbed into Ryan’s lap when they were stuck in a traffic jam on the 405 and, to the delight of Fed Ex driver stuck next to them, she pulled out his cock, pulled down her panties and mounted him. The Anne-on-Ryan’s-lap became a favorite position. They used it in movie theatres, Starbucks’ bathrooms, during the half-time show at a Rose Bowl game, and in the back row of a lecture hall during one of Professor Moylan’s interminable Psych classes.

They also used a variety of other positions depending on where they were; standing when Ryan pinned Anne to the wall in the Travel section of Barnes and Noble, missionary when Ryan took Anne golfing and she couldn’t find her ball in the woods, doggy style in the back of L.A. County Natural History Museum’s dinosaur display, and reverse cowgirl when Anne dragged Ryan into the empty break room of a Ralph’s grocery store.

But their favorite spots were elevators. In high rises they used to wait until they could get a car by themselves, press the button for the top floor and see if they could finish before the car stopped. In smaller buildings they’d press the Stop button, the alarm would always sound but it actually served to drown out Anne’s orgasms.

Good times, he thought. He was a different guy then, he suddenly realized. Less serious, certainly less structured, much more spontaneous. He’d closed down after Anne left him. He became much more conservative, cautious, not nearly as much fun, he realized.

Or was it just that he was a different person with Anne? And if they got back together, would he revert back to a more carefree persona? He glanced at her and she was smiling.

Standing so close to Anne, feeling her body heat, her scent, Ryan’s hand dangling just inches from hers, was such a turn on. And Syd be damned, there was something unfinished here. What if, okay, he knew it sounded stupid, but what if they were meant to be together? What if his getting the lottery ticket was all part of some huge master plan to get them back together? And as insane as he knew that kind of thinking was, Ryan was having a visceral reaction to Anne that he never felt with any other woman.

Anne felt it, too. She had to admit she missed those crazy days herself. Anne and Ryan’s love affair was filled with wild abandon. Sure they were kids, but during those first couple of years she felt electrified. A feeling she hasn’t had since. Not with Rick, never with any of her lovers. And she suddenly wondered if she was a different person with Ryan? If, no, when they got back together, would they be able recapture that exultation? And suddenly, more than ever, she wanted to find out.

DING. The elevator arriving interrupted both of their reveries. But as they stepped out of the elevator and walked down the thick carpet, something palpable had changed. They walked closer together, Ryan’s hand brushed Anne’s hand with every step until he finally wrapped his fingers around hers.

They faced each other as they reached the door to her suite. Anne slid the keycard into the door but her eyes never left Ryan’s face. Ryan pushed open the door; they were still holding hands as Anne led him inside. The door swung closed behind them. Without a word, Ryan pulled her close and kissed her.

It ignited a wildfire. Hands started flying, jackets hit the floor, he pulled out her blouse, she ripped open his shirt, undid his belt, he pulled up her skirt and pulled down her panties, she pulled down his pants and slipped his penis out of his boxers. Then, in a move they practiced while still UCLA undergrads, she leapt up throwing her legs around his waist as he caught her under the arms, then lowered her onto his cock.

They both gasped as he entered her.

And they stood there, staring into each other’s eyes, neither moving, both just enjoying the feeling of being a part of the other; a completeness neither had felt for so long.

“You feel so good,” he whispered.

“No,” she replied. “ We feel this good.” As she began to gently rock her hips, he responded and seconds later the passion that had been building between both for the last two days exploded in simultaneous orgasms.