Bill Pronzini - The Crimes of Jordan Wise

"New York."

"You always did want to live in the Big Apple. How was it? Exciting?"

"I don't know," she said bitterly. "I never lived there. You were right, I couldn't afford Manhattan."

"Where did you live, then?"

"Long Island. God, what's keeping those drinks?"

They came and she gulped half of hers. The combination of Valium and Scotch worked fast to calm her, restore her poise. Color came back into her cheeks. The smile flicked on again and stayed Ut.

"Whoo, that's better," she said. "I'd almost forgotten how twitchy and woozy tropical heat can make you until you get used to it."

I sipped beer and said nothing.

"So," she said. "How have you been, Richard?"

"Fine, until a little while ago. Never better."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"Well, I've been miserable," she said.

"Is that right? Things didn't work out with the clothing manufacturer, I take it. What was his name? Jackson? Johnson?"

She took another slug of Scotch. "Johnson. Paul Johnson."

"You don't seem surprised I know about him."

"I'm not. I . . . wasn't very discreet."

"I know about Verriker, too," I said. "Good old Royce."

"Oh, God. How did you—?"

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not. Did you . . . I mean . . ."

"Confront him? No. I'm not confrontational, you know that."

"I don't know why I went to bed with him. I honestly don't."

"Sure you do. He's handsome and glib and charismatic. A stud, too, I hear. I'll bet he was terrific in the sack."

She winced. "Please, Richard."

"How about Paul Johnson? Another stud, another good lay?"

"I don't want to talk about any of that."

"Why not? Sex was always one of your favorite topics."

"You have every right to hate me," she said.

"Don't I, though."

"Do you? Hate me?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I'm a terrible bitch. It was unforgivable, what I did to you. First Royce, then Paul Johnson, then taking everything I could get my hands on and running off like a thief in the night."

And then Fred Cotler, I thought. But I had no more intention of bringing him up than she did. I wasn't supposed to know about her and Cotler, or that she'd told him all about me, or that she'd been a willing partner in the attempted blackmail. It would be a mistake to let her know that I knew.

"What about the twenty-six thousand?" I said. "All gone now?"

"Yes. The jewelry, too. I don't have anything left."

"How long did it take you to blow it all?"

"I didn't blow it, not the way you mean. I spent it on essentials—food, rent, utilities."

"Johnson didn't keep you long, is that it?"

"He didn't keep me at all." She said it bitterly.

"How about giving you design work with his company? Or an intro into the fashion industry? That is why you ran off with him?"

"Yes, but he didn't keep any of his promises. He used me and then he dumped me."

"What did you do then? Find another sugar daddy?"

"I'm a bitch but not a whore, Richard. Though I don't blame you for thinking I'm both. I tried to find design work on my own. When I couldn't I gave up, finally admitted to myself that my designs really weren't very good and I was never going to make it in the industry."

"Big admission for you. Big letdown."

"Yes, it was."

"What did you do then?"

"Took a job selling lingerie in a department store. The money was running out and I had to pay the rent."

I said, "Sounds like a shitty job," and managed to keep the malice out of my voice.

"It was. But it's the only kind of work I had any experience with. I stuck it out for more than a year."

"What happened then?"

"They laid me off. Three weeks ago. No warning, they just decided to downsize the department. Two weeks' severance pay and out the door."

"You're being very candid about all this, Annalise—the mess you've made of your life the past two years. Why? What're you leading up to?"

"Jobs aren't that easy to come by up there," she said. "The kind that pay you a decent living wage. I just couldn't stay there any longer, I'd had enough. The airline ticket down here used up most of my severance pay."

"Answer my question. Why did you come back to St. Thomas? What do you want from me?"

"Another chance," she said.

I stared at her.

"That's all. Just another chance."

"Jesus Christ," I said, "you expect me to take you back? As if nothing ever happened?"

"No, not as if nothing ever happened. A chance to make amends, to prove how sorry I am and that I'll never do anything like that again. To be there for you the way I was before."

What gall the woman had! And how desperate she had to be to come crawling like this!

"It can be like it was for us in the beginning," she said. "Even better. A new beginning, a new commitment of trust I swear to God I'll never break."

I didn't say anything.

"If you ever feel I'm not living up to that promise, you can tell me to leave and I'll go, I won't argue, I won't even ask why."

I didn't say anything.

"You probably won't believe this," she said, "but I still care for you. I did what I did because I'm selfish, not because I stopped loving you."

"Bullshit, Annalise."

"It's true, I swear it. My feelings got lost in what I thought I wanted more than to be with you. I'm not that person anymore. What was important to me before isn't important to me now."

Sure it was. A free ride, that was what was important to her. Johnson hadn't given it to her and Cotler hadn't given it to her and however many there were after the mailman hadn't given it to her. The fashion industry and the Big Apple were shattered dreams. She'd reverted to what she was that night in Perry's: a half-alive bitch who felt as if she were running around and around like a hamster in a wheel. The difference was that then she'd had other options, and now the only one she had left was me. Her last reach for the brass ring. Her last chance to live on the edge, to feel alive again.

"You still have feelings for me, don't you?" she said. "Deep down? They can't all be gone?"

"Can't they?"

"I don't want to think so. Richard, it can be like it was for us in the beginning. It can, it will"

Earnest throb in her voice. Pleading eyes. Oh, she had all the words and all the emotional manelivers down pat.

"You don't have to give me an answer right away," she said. "We can take it slowly. Get to know each other again. I can stay with JoEllen for a while—she said she wouldn't mind. Just think about it, that's all I ask. Will you do that?"

"Suppose I say no right now? Then what?"

" . . . I don't understand."

"What will you do? Try to use threats to force me into taking you back?"

"God, no! I wouldn't do something like that."

"Wouldn't you? You've got the perfect hold."

"Not without hurting myself, I don't. I'd never hurt either of us that way."

"Never tell anyone about Jordan Wise?"

"Of course not."

"You never let anything slip to anyone while you were in New York?"

"Never." Looking me straight in the eye. "I swear it."

I finished my beer. Put some money on the table and got to my feet.

"Richard?"

"I need to get back to my boat."

I turned and walked out. I knew she'd hurry up and join me; I hadn't given her a satisfactory answer and she wouldn't go away without getting one. When we reached Windrunner, I knew she would ask again to come aboard—beg for it this time if she had to—and what she had in mind. I knew her so well. In Perry's that night, she'd said she knew me and I didn't know her at all, and now the reverse was true. In some ways I knew her better than she knew herself.

So I let her come on board. She walked around topside, exclaiming over this and that. Then, as I knew she would, she asked if she could see the cabin. I said all right to that, too. There was something I needed to find out about myself and only one way to do it.