A Cold Day in Hell (26 page)

“You didn’t mean to. What were you going to say when you stopped yourself? Why should I be able to do anything to you when you haven’t done anything except—except what?”

“Love you.” Saying the words felt so strange. “I’ve never said that to anyone before.”

Her hand went to her throat. “But you’re so angry with me you could spit. I never wanted to do that to you. I’m sorry, Angel.”

“I’m not angry,” Angel said. “But I want you to believe in me and believe in yourself. Can you take that in? Do you get that this is all something that means so much to me?”

She closed in on him and he didn’t attempt to make any move himself.

When she started to unbutton his shirt, he closed a hand over hers. “You aren’t ready for this.” But he wanted her. He wanted her every day, dozens of times a day, whenever he thought about her.

“This is what I want to do,” she said. “Someone hit my head, not…” The bemused crunch of her features made him chuckle.

“I feel serious,” Eileen said and resumed unbuttoning his shirt. “This is about you and me. Everyone’s safe, I believe you.” She looked toward the ceiling. “Unless someone’s on the roof with a machine gun this time.”

“They’re not.” He expanded his lungs.

Eileen had completely undone his shirt and pulled it out of his jeans. “Have I told you what I think about your butt?” She put her fingers over his mouth, although he’d had no intention of answering. “It’s hard. How does a butt get that hard? It feels good to the kiss, too.”

“Mmm.” He didn’t embarrass easily but a little heat turned his ears red. “That appeals to me, too.” He slid his hands down her sides and over her hips to hold the cheeks of her bottom firmly. “Mmm.”

She rested her face against his neck and giggled. “Maybe we can bottle and sell the feelings you give me.”

“If I bottled mine I’d get arrested.”

“Is it okay if I feel you up?” She ran her fingers up and down his back. Her breath was soft and warm on his neck. He grunted and she pushed a hand into the back of his pants.

“I believe you,” Angel said. “You like butts.”

“Your butt.”

“Cher, what I want is to tear off our clothes and play target practice somewhere. Instead, I’m going to cuddle you in that bed until you fall asleep.”

“Target practice where?” Eileen said. Eileen unsnapped and unzipped his jeans.

“Don’t get excited,” he said. “It’s not good for headaches.”

“I don’t have a headache. What’s target practice?”

“You don’t know? How old are you?”

She narrowed her eyes and gave him a punch in the gut. From her grimace she suffered a whole lot more than he did. “That’s not nice. I’m old enough but not so old I’m out of touch. You make it all up as you go along.”

“Phew, just wanted to make sure you weren’t underage. The point of target practice is to hit the bulls-eye. You have to be lined up properly to do that.”

Her red shirt landed on the seat of the nearest chair. She looked edible in a low-cut black satin bra with a lace edge that didn’t cover the tops of her nipples.

The navy pants followed and he feasted on a wispy lace thong. Long legs, smooth hips with a perfect curve all the way up to the tiny black band at her waist. All of her was woman, not girl. Lush, that was the word.

“You’re in a hurry to go to bed,” he said.

Eileen wasn’t talking.

She turned her back on him and his breath escaped slowly. Speaking of butts…

It only took a step to stand close behind her and run his hands over her satiny rear. He kissed her shoulder and looked down at her breasts.
Served up perfectly
was the thought he had before he slipped his hands around her waist and upward to cup her breasts. He softly passed his fingers over the fine white skin and firm flesh above her bra. When he dithered, returning again and again to her rib cage, her breathing grew shallow. She arched her body and rested the back of her head on his shoulder.

Angel smiled, he blew against her ear, kissed her cheek and gradually worked toward her mouth. With one hand, he turned her face up to his and kissed her, a long kiss that cost him. His body stood at attention and began to actually hurt.

Smoothly, he pressed his way down, down to the triangle of lace between her legs, over it to the warm moistness that waited there. It waited for him. Her eyes closed and her knees made a jerky dip. She twirled in his arms, bent over a little and backed away, her chin up so she could watch him with an intense smile.

“Are you teasing me?” Angel said.

“Well, I surely don’t see any other men around here and I am teasing someone.”

He made a growling sound and grabbed for her.

She jumped away, shaking her finger at him. Then she pulled herself up to sit on a long, low chest of drawers. A pile of Angel’s folded clean clothes flew from the shiny top of the chest and scattered across the floor. “Shall I pick them up now?” She sat on the very edge, swinging her feet, her hand gripping the wood between her legs.

“No. I want you right where you are.” He shucked his pants.

Eileen pointed to his shorts. “I like you better without those.”

Obliging her, he stood there naked, every blood vessel pulsing.

Without warning, Eileen hopped to stand on top of the chest and made a runway walk along the top, turned perfectly and sashayed back. Then she giggled and turned pink.

She made him smile. She thrilled him.

He’d had it with the games.

“Come right here.” He crooked a finger at her and she obliged but remained on her feet, swaying gently and looking first into his face, then down the length of him, almost the length—halfway. “It isn’t nice to stare,” he told her.

“I think it’s nice.”

Angel caught the crotch of her thong and tore it apart. Immediately his head was assaulted by open-handed swats. “You ruined these,” she said, laughing, breathless. “Don’t think you’ll get away without replacing them.”

“You can have as many as you like.”

He settled his teeth on her pubic bone and she shrieked and rose to her toes. “That’s nice of you,” he said and clamped her hips still to allow him to seek out the sweet spot. She had perfect rhythm, worthy of his agile, hard-hitting tongue. Almost at once, she went stiff, cried out and slumped in his hands.

“Look at that,” he said, sitting her down. “Almost a perfect lineup.” Kissing her, tenderness overtook him. “You are perfect for me.”

“So are you for me. Will you listen to me? I can hardly scrape up an original thought or word.”

He looked into her face. “You don’t have to say anything. You’re original all on your own.” He discarded what was left of the thong, unhooked her bra and took it off, and held her hips again.

Without giving him a chance to take complete charge, Eileen took him in her hands and pushed him inside her. Angel’s legs turned weak, before he locked them and tried to hold himself back.

“Angel,” Eileen said, her voice breaking. “I want you all the way. Come on, please?”

Watching her face, breathing on her white breasts, fighting his need to grab and impale her again and again, Angel nodded at her. Smiling would take too much energy.

Eileen thrust herself forward, slammed against his pelvis with his penis as deep inside as it could go. They gave and took, and he sweated, heard his own sobbing voice. His climax all but sent him to his knees and she cried out as she shuddered.

They panted. Eileen pushed him away and got down to stand on the floor. Angel reached for her but she stepped backward quickly, held up a hand that told him to stop.

With each moment he grew stronger and began to stir. She watched him, watched his body, smiling faintly. The look she gave him was suggestive. A moment later she stood with her back to him, leaning against the bottom of the bed. Slowly, she bent forward, supported her weight on the mattress and moved her feet apart.

Angel layered himself over Eileen, made sure she didn’t take his weight, and held her breasts. He kissed the back of her neck, her spine, bone by bone. Up he came again and pushed her farther over, settled his elbows on the mattress and crossed his arms beneath her, held her.

She was so wet. Sliding between her legs was so easy. The last easy moment. By the time he had penetrated her three times, Eileen’s head hit the bed and she did all she could to help him. He wanted to make her part of him forever, never to let the exquisite pain stop.

The night wouldn’t be long enough.

T
onight would be their third night in a row together. Beyond the windows of Angel’s truck, the afternoon was gray and fading.

Now she knew what it meant when a woman said she felt like a queen. Eileen tingled. As she sat beside Angel, she felt weightless and a long way off the ground. She’d better not open the window because she would blow away. Her chuckle wasn’t soft enough for Angel not to hear and turn on a major-watt grin.

They knew why they were having moments of perfect, if jumpy, peace. It almost seemed as if their cells were reaching out to blend again. That would be fine with Eileen. This happiness ate her up and she loved it.

“You’re really okay with stopping by to see Chuzah, if he’s still there?” Angel asked.

“Of course. He must be there or we would have heard. Then, and I really don’t want to, but I’ve got to get to Poke Around and see what’s happening with Suky-Jo. She’s more capable than her manner suggests, but there’s too much to do for one person.”

“She seems capable to me, just a bit “out there” when she’s not concentrating.”

“Suky-Jo would do anything for anyone. I think she’s learned how to disengage when she needs to. Anyway, Frances is keeping an eye on the shop for me and not much gets past her. But when I talked to her last night, she told me business was booming. I know she wanted to make me happy, but she’s got the salon to run and that’s busy, too.”

Angel drove sedately onto the area around the police station. The cracked and subsiding concrete should have been replaced several years earlier.

“Too bad Mayor Damalis didn’t put his gift money toward this lot instead of the Christmas tree,” Angel said. “Putting lights in a sycamore made everyone happy last year, but I guess a donation earmarked to resurface this wouldn’t be so public.”

“Patrick is a player in a very small group of Pointe Judah players,” Eileen told him. “He’s always looking for a way to puff himself up.”

They parked and got out. Despite a bright sun, the temperature was low. Shrubs looked peaked. The people at the police station had forgotten to turn off the Christmas lights surrounding the front door and there was no point now since they would only need to be turned back on in an hour. Eileen had the thought that welcoming decorations on the front of a police station might not be considered tasteful by some. She liked them just fine.

When they got inside, Matt wasn’t there but Carley took them back to the jail where another officer with a familiar face let them in. Chuzah was in the first cell and the officer had been sitting on a rickety wooden chair, watching him.

“I guess this is supposed to be maximum security around here,” Angel said.

Eileen’s stomach did a little flip at the sarcasm in his voice.

The officer only laughed and motioned them forward while he locked the outer security door again. Immediately Eileen saw Chuzah’s back. He lay facing away from them, curled up on a bottom bunk. Apart from him, the cell was empty.

“You’ve got visitors, Mr. Chuzah,” the policeman said. “A lovely lady and her friend are here to see you.”

Chuzah raised an arm to motion them in. He didn’t turn over.

“Consider yourself honored,” the cop said as they passed him on their way into the cell. His identification said he was Officer Fisher. “He’s refused to see anyone else.” He stopped a moment and frowned. “How weird is that? He didn’t take a look to see who you are.”

Angel pushed the door all the way open and went in with Eileen. “Hey, Chuzah,” he said. “This stinks.”

“I’d say it does,” Chuzah said, his voice perfectly clear and controlled.

“They’ll have the DNA results by tomorrow and let you out,” Eileen told him. “It’s silly that you’re here at all.” She met Angel’s eyes and shrugged.

In one fluid motion, Chuzah rolled over and got to his feet. “Excuse my manners,” he said to Eileen. “These have been disconcerting days.”

“Do you have a lawyer?” Angel said.

Chuzah drew himself up to his considerable height. He wore a white T-shirt, cleverly stamped Jail front and back, and a pair of jeans that didn’t touch his feet. “I am still considering my course of action. It seems likely that I will be released as soon as their little test results come back. In which case, why hire a lawyer?”

“It’s a good idea to have one,” Angel said. “You’ll probably want to sue the socks off the authorities when you do get out.”

Making dismissive motions, Chuzah began to pace. He flung out his hands repeatedly and sent intense glances at his visitors.

Eileen tried to think of something to say. “I’m glad they didn’t cut off your fingernails” was the best she could manage.

He looked at them and laughed. “At least they do not contain my bodily strength. And my hair is already short. You will remember the story of Sampson and Delilah. She cut off his hair and he was left a helpless man.” He laughed again, with real mirth this time, and patted his head.

Fisher cleared his throat and when Eileen glanced at him, he shrugged one shoulder in a way that suggested he thought Chuzah’s sanity was questionable.

Frustrated, Eileen raised questioning brows at Angel, but he didn’t respond, or even look as if he’d noticed.

Chuzah came to a halt. “How are you, Eileen? Do you feel well?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He resumed his pacing, pointing his face toward Angel with each pass. Once more he stood still. “Our gifts do not touch,” he said very softly and with a deep sigh. “Such a pity. But you push yours away, so it must be that you do not want them at all.”

“What’s going to happen?” Angel said. He straightened as if he’d been resting. “What’s going on?”

Chuzah gave a sad smile. “You should have been encouraged to develop, Angel. You should have sought help as soon as you knew about…” His voice faded away. He shook his head.

“I didn’t waste anything,” Angel said. “I used it well, but now that’s over.”

“What are you talking about?” Eileen asked, really frightened now. “And don’t say
nothing.
”

“You must trust your man now,” Chuzah said. He appeared to see into her thoughts. “You two have truly become one, and whatever hurts either of you will hurt you both. Allow him to explain these things to you in his own time, or not at all if that’s what he thinks is best for you.”

She wanted to accept his advice but every free-thinking bone in her body rebelled. “Okay, Chuzah. But can you tell me what you mean about your own gifts?”

“Hush,” Angel said. “None of this is a big deal. Forget about it.”

Once more Chuzah laughed. He slapped Angel on the shoulder. “You still do not understand women, my friend.” His hand dropped and any amusement left his features.

Eileen slipped a hand into Angel’s and he squeezed.

“I have to get out,” Chuzah said. “I have to get free now, before it’s too late.”

Angel gripped the man’s arm. He kept his voice too low for Fisher to hear. “Tell me what you’re worried about.”

“You can’t do it,” Chuzah said, tearing away and resuming his measured step from one side of the cell to the other. “Could a lawyer get me out?”

“Possibly,” Angel said.

“Then get me a lawyer.
Now.
He can get them to release me at once. I need to go
now.
”

“I think Aurelie Board may be back. She does general law now. If she isn’t here, the only other attorney I know and trust is Joe Gable over in Toussaint. He could be here in under an hour.”

Chuzah closed his eyes and shook his head. “It will all take too long.” He raised his chin and grew absolutely still, all but the heavy rise and fall of his huge chest.

“Everything okay?” Fisher’s chair creaked as he got up and came to the cell. “You doin’ okay, Mr. Chuzah? Can I get you anything?”

Not a word came from Chuzah.

“He thinks he needs a lawyer,” Angel said. “We’ll call one for him.”

“Wait,” Eileen said, her agitation growing. “He’s making up his mind what he wants.”

“I have to leave this place at once,” Chuzah said, staring at Fisher. “If you let me out I promise to return. I will not try to run away.”

Fisher’s light eyes became round and his Adam’s apple jerked when he swallowed. Fisher was a very thin man. “Can’t do that, Mr. Chuzah,” he said and Eileen saw how his hand hovered near his handgun.

He was afraid Chuzah would try something. She checked her friend out and decided Fisher wasn’t dumb to be cautious.

Angel went close and whispered in Chuzah’s ear. He shook his head and said, “Make them let me go. It’s not for me.”

“Look,” Fisher said. “I know what we’ll do. I’ll get Chief Boudreaux in here to talk to you. He’s a decent guy and he has the power to make a decision like that. Could be he’d say that as long as you take a couple of guards with you, he’ll go along with it.”

Chuzah looked hard at Eileen, then Angel. He sat on the bunk and rolled to lie, facing the wall, in the fetal position.

Angel took Eileen’s hand and stood by the door while Fisher let them out.

Matt entered the station and went directly to his office. He’d come back in to interview a possible new deputy chief. The in-basket overflowed and he’d bet good money the e-mail was close to overloaded. Officer Fisher came slowly to stand just inside the room.

“Who’s watching the prisoner?” Matt said.

Fisher cleared his throat. “That would be Lieutenant Vasseur, sir, Simon Vasseur.”

Matt faced the man, staring. “Simon Vasseur who’s here to interview for the deputy chief job?”

“That would be him, sir. I was running around looking for someone and he volunteered.”

“Oh, my, God,” Matt said. “Everyone around here really pulls together to make sure we look professional, don’t they?”

Fisher’s thin face set hard. “Sorry, Sir. We’re shorthanded.”

“We’re always shorthanded,” Matt roared. “And we’re goin’ to do somethin’ about that. Go relieve Vasseur at once.”

“I’m here to ask you something,” Fisher said.

“Then ask. And then get the hell back where you’re supposed to be.”

“Mr. Chuzah is asking for, er, a release. He says he’ll come right back. That was a promise, he said. He’s got some serious business to attend to.”

Matt processed the man’s words slowly, then ran through them again at a normal pace. “Are you mad?”

“Not the last time I checked, sir. Mr. Chuzah’s talking about court action because he’s been wrongly imprisoned. Seemed like a good idea to bring this request to your attention. Maybe something can be worked out to make Mr. Chuzah happier with us. Mr. DeAngelo and Miz Moggeridge visited, and I think they agree with me.”

“I give up.” Matt hit the intercom and told Carley he wouldn’t be in his office for a few minutes. “Come on, Fisher. I’m going back there.”

Matt walked fast enough to leave Fisher and his deliberate plod behind him. Metal toe and heel caps on the man’s shoes clacked on hard floors.

“Simon,” Matt called when he entered the corridor to the cell block and saw Simon Vasseur. “Glad you could make it. Sorry you got put to work, though. My officer didn’t know who you were.”

A red-faced Fisher caught up.

“Why should he? I’m fine here. Sitting and having nothing to do for a few minutes is a novelty.”

“You’re too generous,” Matt said. “Fisher, take Lieutenant Vasseur to my office and come back. I’ll talk with Chuzah while you’re gone.”

He took Fisher aside and asked softly, “Did you leave Chuzah alone while you were looking for me?”

Fisher nodded miserably.

Matt took the keys from Simon Vasseur and locked the door behind him and Fisher. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so angry.

Sorting for the right key, Matt went to Chuzah’s cell at once. He found the key and shot it in the bolt.

Keeping his hand close to his weapon, out of habit, he entered but stayed close to the door. “You wanted to talk to me?”

The lights were off. Chuzah had a heap of blankets on top of him. Matt threw these off. “Get up, please.”

The blanket and one taken from the upper bunk covered two pillows.

“God dammit!” He ran into the corridor and sounded the alarm.

Back in the cell, he examined the other side of the lock. It was so scratched up, who would know if Chuzah had tampered with it?

He looked at the lower bunk again, then the upper.

The clothes Chuzah had been wearing were neatly folded at one end of the mattress.