Sullivan's Law (23 page)

A
t a few minutes past nine Monday evening, Carolyn was cleaning up the kitchen when the phone rang. A male voice said softly, “Want to come over for a drink?”

“I can't believe you're still pestering me,” she said, assuming it was Brad. When they'd been lovers, he used to call her late at night, trying to talk her into sneaking him into her bedroom.

Paul Leighton said stiffly, “Maybe I called too late. I'll check back with you another time.”

“Forgive me,” Carolyn said, “I thought you were someone else.”

“I'm sorry,” he said. “Were you in bed? I intended to call you earlier.”

“I was finishing up my household chores.”

“Then come over for a nightcap. Lucy's down for the night. If you're worried about leaving your brood alone, I can send Isobel. She may not look too intimidating, but if anyone even came close to hurting your children, they'd be the sorriest man alive. Say fifteen minutes,” he added. “I'll be waiting on my patio in the backyard.”

“Send Isobel,” Carolyn said. “I can't stay very long.”

After she brushed her hair and sprayed on some cologne, Carolyn riffled through her closet, pulling out a tight-fitting black knit top with a revealing neckline. She removed her T-shirt and started to pull the top over her head, then placed it back on the hanger. Having dinner with the professor and their children Friday evening was not the same as a late night rendezvous.

The situation with Brad had to stop. During the entire time they'd dated, he'd never once mentioned marriage. The best way to put a relationship behind you, her mother had always told her, was to start a new one. She didn't want Paul to think she was trying to snag a husband, though. Almost as soon as the thought appeared, she had to ask herself if it was true. Some nights when sleep eluded her, she cried in her bed alone. People all over the world suffered through disastrous marriages and refused to give up hope. She didn't want to live the rest of her life alone.

Carolyn tossed on a white blouse with a feminine lace collar, then stepped into a pair of black slacks. She heard someone knocking on the back door and rushed to answer.

“I'm the security guard.” Isobel was dressed in an orange pullover sweater and what appeared to be her pajama bottoms, her feet encased in furry slippers.

“This is really kind of you,” Carolyn said, wondering if the woman had been asleep. “Would you like to watch television in the living room?”

She held up a paperback book. “I don't watch television,” Isobel said. “Nothing on the idiot box but trash these days. Tell me where the kids I'm supposed to be protecting are, then put me somewhere with a comfortable chair and some decent light.”

Once Isobel was situated, Carolyn poked her head into John's room in the converted garage. The boy was pouring over his studies at his desk. His hair was disheveled, and there were dark circles underneath his eyes. Several books were open and he was staring at a column of equations, tapping his pencil against his forehead.

“I'm going out for a while,” she told him. “You can reach me on my cell phone. Paul sent Isobel over. She's in the living room.”

John didn't appear to have heard her, then he turned around. “Tell Paul I think I've solved the problem,” he said, excited. “I may get an A in calculus after all. That class has been giving me trouble all year.”

“What about your other studies?” his mother asked. “You have to do well all around if you want to score high on your SATs.”

“All A's,” John said, without looking at her. “My other classes are a breeze.”

“Great,” Carolyn told him. “Call me if you need me.”

 

They were seated in two green cushioned recliners on his patio. Paul opened a bottle of Chardonnay and filled their glasses. “Did you get a chance to ask your superiors about the design you showed me on the exoskeleton?”

“Yes,” she told him. “There's no need for a meeting. All I need is permission from the owner of the work. I should be seeing him in the next few days.”

The night was clear and he caught her gazing up at the stars. On one corner of the patio was a large telescope situated on a tripod. “Want a closer look?”

“Sure,” Carolyn said, carrying her glass of wine as she followed him. As soon as Paul adjusted the lens, she bent down and positioned herself in front of the eyepiece. “Can you name all the constellations?”

“Possibly,” he said, “but I'd rather listen to you talk. Cosmology isn't my speciality.”

She felt his warm breath on her neck as he moved behind her and pushed a button to reposition the telescope. When she stood up and turned around, their bodies were touching. “You're a beautiful woman,” Paul said, reaching out and stroking her hair. “I'm glad you came over tonight.”

“So am I,” Carolyn said, her breath catching in her throat.

He placed his hand on the back of her neck, then pressed his lips to hers. She felt his other hand on the small of her back. The kiss didn't last very long, but Carolyn felt a rush of emotion. Impulsively, she grabbed his face and passionately kissed him. Then she abruptly pulled back. “God,” she said, laughing, “what am I doing? We hardly know each other.”

“This is how it happens,” Paul said, collecting her into his arms again. “The first time I saw you, I wanted you. I haven't felt this way in years. I'm fairly certain you haven't either.”

What she'd shared with Brad had been more physical than mental. How could she love a man whom she was almost certain would be unfaithful? She had already been down that road with Frank. “Maybe I didn't want to feel this way.”

“Perhaps I didn't either,” Paul told her. “I went to considerable effort to relocate here and distance myself from the university. Finishing this book is important to me. I won't be able to stay here forever.”

Carolyn placed a palm against his chest. “But you can come back,” she said. “Why have a house here if you don't use it?”

“A year passes quickly, particularly among people with responsibilities. Don't you want to find out where this is going to take us?”

“How about heaven?” she said, snuggling up to him again and reveling in the feel and smell of his body.

“I don't believe in heaven,” Paul told her. “It's a figment of the imagination, like everything else regarding religion.”

Carolyn moved away, the moment shattered. “Are you trying to say you're an atheist?”

“Why don't we enjoy our wine?”

“No,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him back. “I want to finish our conversation.”

“Fine,” Paul told her, somewhat miffed. “I consider myself an agnostic. I can't prove that there isn't a God, any more than I can prove the existence of God or anything remotely supernatural. In reality, an atheist has a stronger position. I'm sorry. I didn't get the impression that you were all that religious.”

“You never asked,” Carolyn said, experiencing a sinking sensation.

“Does it matter?”

The concern on his face made her wonder if his position on religion had created substantial problems for him. Had this caused the demise of his marriage? “Don't get me wrong,” she told him. “I'm not a religious fanatic. I do believe, though, and so do my children. John—”

Paul walked several feet away, leaning against the wood railing as he stared out into the night. “Your son is young,” he said. “What he believes today will change, particularly if he pursues his desire to become a physicist.”

Carolyn let her arms fall limp at her sides. “I don't want to hear this,” she told him, her idyllic thoughts of falling in love rapidly evaporating. “I need to get home.”

“Are you really this immature?” he said, rushing over to her. “Can't two people with opposing views care about one another, respect the other's right to believe whatever they choose? What if I liked steaks, and you were a diehard vegetarian? Would you refuse to see me? Couldn't I continue to eat steaks while you ate vegetables?”

“I don't know,” Carolyn said, confused.

“Of course we could,” Paul answered. “I'm not trying to steal your beliefs, nor the beliefs of your children. I wouldn't be wasting my time if I didn't think there was potential here. Potential for happiness, companionship, pleasure, maybe even a lifetime commitment. Do you think I'm looking for a one-night stand? I don't give most women the time of day. Why someone of your caliber buried herself in this town as a probation officer is beyond me.”

Paul pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, the side of her neck. Her body arched backward and she let out a long sigh. She couldn't walk away. She wanted this man. Something about him made her feel complete, as if she'd found a missing part of her anatomy. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the lounge chair, laying her down on her back, then stretching out on top of her. His tongue probed inside her mouth, as his fingers undid the buttons on the front of her blouse. “Stop,” she said. “We can't…”

“Why?” he whispered. “No one can see us.”

“Not now,” Carolyn answered.

“When?”

“I don't know,” she said, getting up and adjusting her clothing.

“Meet me here at the house for lunch tomorrow.”

“There's too much going on at work.”

“Make time,” Paul insisted. “The courthouse isn't more than a fifteen-minute drive. I want to see you.”

Carolyn felt more alive than she had in years. She felt a surge of energy, as if she could run, leap over the fence, and keep running until she collapsed. Brad had satisfied her body, but Paul stirred her soul. This was a man she could fall in love with, maybe marry. Thoughts that serious didn't lend themselves to impulsive decisions. She wanted them to take it slow, get to know each other, let the relationship develop.

She might be able to sneak away for a few hours, particularly since she'd completed all her case assignments. She wasn't going to tell Paul, however. Physics was similar to a game in many ways, or more aptly, an intriguing puzzle. Perhaps she was nothing more than a fascinating puzzle wrapped in skin for the professor to break down into equations and solve. She might have buried herself in a small town like Ventura, yet after years of working with criminals, she knew how to stand her ground.

“How can you make me wait?” Paul said, slapping the edge of the recliner like a petulant child. “You'll drive me crazy. I won't be able to concentrate on my book. What am I going to do?”

“Try praying,” Carolyn tossed out, laughing as she walked down the steps of the porch and turned in the direction of her house.

H
ank strode into Carolyn's cubicle at ten-forty Tuesday morning. Instead of one of her suits, she'd worn a lightweight black knit dress that hugged her body and emphasized her curves. Planning on calling Paul and taking him up on his offer to drop by his house for lunch, she'd also passed on her practical shoes in favor of heels and nylons.

“You look terrific,” Hank said. “Did you get your hair cut or something?”

Men, she thought, even when they did notice a woman had done something to improve her appearance, they couldn't figure out what it was. “Thanks,” she said, searching the Internet for information on inventions and patents. “I'm trying to work, Hank. Did we get a break on the case, or did you come here to annoy me?”

“I thought you might want to go with me to Fairview Hospital to speak to Madeline Harrison.”

“When?”

“After we search Charles Harrison's residence. Kevin Thomas wanted to go over some things in his office first.”

Carolyn spun her chair around. “Did the lab come up with any more evidence from the Seagull?

“Nada,”
Hank said. “No prints, no hairs. The place was as clean as an operating room. Was Downly a speed freak?”

“Not that I know of,” Carolyn told him. “Since he didn't have drug terms, I never tested him. Why?”

“Metroix said the clerk at the Seagull had sores on his arms and face. Sounds like speed to me. That, or he had—”

“Don't even think it,” she said, her thoughts turning to Luisa Cortez. AIDS was always a concern in rape cases. When she'd seen Eddie at the jail, he'd had on long sleeves. She couldn't tell Hank about the visit, though, for fear it might compromise their case. “If Eddie had sores from speed, he must have been using for years.”

“Maybe that's why they called him Fast Eddie?”

Carolyn fell silent. How could she forgive herself for failing to supervise this man the past year? After the preliminary intake interview, though, a probation officer spent only a small amount of time with the offender. She didn't recall seeing any signs of drug use.

“Here's what I'm thinking,” Hank told her. “Before the Luisa Cortez incident, one of LAPD's finest caught Downly either under the influence or dealing dope. This could have been how Chief Harrison recruited him. Instead of taking him to jail, the arresting officer delivered him to Harrison. Since Downly grew up in Ventura and knew the area, he was the perfect candidate to knock off Metroix.” He pulled up a chair beside her, sitting down and sniffing. “You even smell great.”

Carolyn ignored him. “Then the chief had to get him out of jail. He couldn't take a chance that Downly might spill his guts in exchange for a reduced sentence on the rape. No,” she corrected herself, “the law precludes reducing a sentence in the rape of a child. That's not it, Hank. The chief was afraid of me, don't you see?”

“Why would he be afraid of you?”

Did Harrison know?
Carolyn asked herself. She'd trusted Alex Barker to cover for her. Even if Barker had done what she'd asked, someone else inside the jail could have notified the chief that a woman had paid Eddie a visit. Harrison didn't know what she looked like, but he knew how the system operated. “Have you talked to the man with the traffic tickets?”

“Who?”

“You know,” Carolyn said, flicking her wrist, “Edward James Downy, the man they mistook for Fast Eddie.”

“No,” Hank told her. “We sent someone to the address on his booking sheet. It's an apartment complex. They say they've never heard of anyone by that name. We also checked with the company who posted the guy's bail. A middle aged male came to their office, slapped down three thousand dollars in cash, and instructed them to post James Edward Downy's bail.”

“What about DMV records?”

Hank shrugged. “The driver's license must have been a fake. They've got Downly, but no Edward James Downy with the same DOB.”

“This other person didn't exist,” Carolyn said, shocked at the amount of deception involved. “The jail knew they'd released a rapist, but they still let the man with the traffic tickets walk. How could he have traffic tickets if he didn't have a driver's license?”

“The tickets were issued to Fast Eddie.”

“This is the most convoluted mess I've ever seen,” Carolyn said, massaging her temples. Could Alex Barker have discovered that her visit had already been inputted into the computer? Then, trying to fix it, he'd mixed up the inmate's booking numbers. She couldn't be at fault, she told herself. Even though his identity had been false, a real man had been booked and later released from the jail.

“You didn't explain why Chief Harrison would be afraid of you.”

“Oh,” Carolyn said. “He knew I would be investigating the new offense. I have a reputation for getting these guys to talk. Harrison had to spring Eddie from jail before I saw him again. Once he arranged his release, he told Fast Eddie to finish off Metroix.”

“Makes sense,” the detective said. “We know there's more than one person involved. After the shooting, the chief would have given Eddie traveling money and told him to get out of town. Then who tried to run you off the road the other night?”

“Eddie,” Carolyn said, swinging a black stockinged leg. She stopped when she caught the detective paying more attention to her body than what she was trying to tell him. “But if Eddie's not dead already, he will be as soon as Harrison's people get their hands on him. The chief didn't give this bastard any money. That's why the guy's so desperate. He needs a safe house. I know all his contacts. He's trapped in Ventura, with cops on both sides of the fence gunning for him.”

“We need more facts and less speculation,” Hank said, pushing himself to his feet. “Unless we find something major at Harrison's place, I plan on heading down to L.A. around three. You in or out?”

Carolyn tried to decide what she should do. Even if she did follow through on her plans to have lunch with Paul, she'd have to return to the office by late afternoon. She needed to think about something unrelated to her work, try to clear her head. She told the detective that she'd meet him at the PD at three as it was closer to the professor's house. Then she called Paul, telling him she was on her way over.

 

As soon as he opened the door, Carolyn smelled the delightful aroma of freshly baked bread. Plates of thinly sliced roast beef, potato salad, and slices of pineapples, oranges, papayas, and strawberries were set out on the dining room table.

“You look more delicious than the food,” Paul told her, lifting her hair and kissing her on the side of her neck.

“Where's Isobel?” she said, not seeing her when they'd passed through the kitchen.

“Day off,” he said, smiling mischievously.

“I see,” Carolyn answered. “Her regular day off, or did you send her away after she prepared all this food?”

“You
are
clever,” he said, chuckling. “I gave her an extra day off so I could be alone with you.”

“You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble,” Carolyn told him, taking a seat at the table. “I'm not used to eating lunch. I'm more of a breakfast and dinner person.”

“Oh, really?” Paul said. “Why don't we let this wait for a while? I don't usually eat lunch myself until later in the day.” He handed her a glass of wine. “Come with me. I have something I want to show you.”

Carolyn followed him, wondering if he'd stumbled across something else important regarding Daniel's work. When she found herself in the master bedroom, he removed the wineglass from her hand and pulled her down on the bed. “I'm hungry,” he whispered. “But not for food.”

“I can tell,” Carolyn answered, removing his hand from her leg. When he kissed her, though, she instantly responded, lacing her fingers through his hair. His lips were soft, his body lean yet muscular.

He slipped one side of her dress down, exposing her right shoulder. “God, you're beautiful.”

“I thought you didn't believe in God,” she said playfully.

“Only a word,” he told her. “You didn't come over here to discuss religion, I hope.”

“Not today.” Carolyn traced the outline of his nose with her fingertip, deciding he was more handsome than she'd originally thought. She loved his hair. He must blow-dry it to smooth out the natural curl. Her father had similar hair. After a few hours, the curls reappeared. She wondered how old he was, but didn't feel it was appropriate to ask. His face was unlined, and his skin was soft and smooth. In profile, he almost resembled a boy.

She picked up one of his hands and studied it. The fingers were long and tapered, the nails neatly trimmed—obviously not a man who earned his living performing manual labor. Snuggling up against him, she felt serene and content. He seemed eager but unhurried.

Ten minutes later, they were thrashing around with the energy and abandon of a couple of teenagers, giggling and teasing. They'd kiss, then stop and stare at each other, trying to see who would be the first to blink. Then he'd try to touch her breasts and she'd quickly move away.

Carolyn finally closed her eyes as he began sensuously stroking her between her legs. His touch was unlike that of men she'd known previously. That a physicist might be an exceptional lover was something she'd never considered. Smart, yes…good in bed, not likely. Ah, she told herself, aware that she'd been seriously mistaken. In addition to physics, Paul seemed to have acquired a master's degree in female anatomy. He not only knew
how
to touch her, he knew precisely
where.

“Stop,” she said, removing his hand again.

“No,” he said, his eyelids heavy with lust. “We haven't even started yet. Take off your nylons.”

Carolyn glanced at his bedside clock. It was one already. She couldn't allow the time to get away from her. Besides, as much as she desired him, she couldn't have sex in broad daylight, particularly with a man she'd only recently met.

The sliding glass door on the far side of the room looked out over a small enclosed courtyard filled with greenery. Since he didn't have drapes, there was no way to shut out the midday sun. She'd known Brad for years before she'd started dating him, and only after six months had she allowed the relationship to advance to the next level. Once the newness had worn off, she had learned to relax and enjoy herself.

“Take this off,” Paul said, tugging on her dress. “I want to look at you.”

“I'm not taking off my clothes,” Carolyn said, grabbing his hand and kissing it. “You don't understand.”

He turned sideways and propped his head up with one hand. “What don't I understand?”

She knew if she stayed much longer, she would succumb to his advances. She sat up. “I have to get back to work.”

“That's an excuse,” Paul said, pulling her back down on the bed. “Why won't you let me make love to you? How long are you going to keep torturing me? Don't you want me?”

“Of course I want you,” Carolyn said, embarrassed. “And you know I'm telling the truth.”

He kissed her again. “Then you're staying.”

“I don't have to be back until three,” she confessed. “I could even pass on the trip to L.A. and take the afternoon off. I can't have sex with you during the day. I've always been shy about my body.” She thought of the stretch marks from her two pregnancies. She was slender, but she didn't exercise. She gazed in envy at the women on the streets, dressed in miniskirts or pants that hung precariously on their hip bones and exposed their entire midsection. Women in California were fitness freaks. They spent hours in the gym every day. She didn't have buns of steel, or six-pack abs, nor did she budget in a yearly tune up at a plastic surgeon's office.

Paul's warm breath was on her face. “Do you have any contact with the Divine?”

“The Divine?” she said, puzzled. “Do you mean God? Why would you ask something like that?”

“An eclipse would be nice right now,” he said, smiling coyly. “Then it would be dark and we could make love.”

“Just because I said I believe in God doesn't mean I have a direct line,” Carolyn told him. “Even if I did, how would I manage an eclipse?”

“Easy,” he told her. “Throw everything in front of the sun.”

Carolyn placed a finger over his lips. “I'll work on your eclipse, but only if you promise to let me go. I'm not going to have sex with you today.”

“You're merciless. If you're not interested in me, all you have to do is tell me.”

“Nothing could be further from the truth,” she said, disentangling herself from his arms.

When Carolyn stood, she felt lightheaded and had to steady herself against his dresser. She didn't need wine. The man himself was intoxicating. And she wasn't only struggling against his formidable will, she was fighting her own desires to slip back into his arms again.

“I'll call you tonight,” she told him, stepping into her heels.

Paul fell back against the pillow in frustration. “No lunch?” he asked. “You're going to walk off and leave me again? I might as well toss my manuscript in the trash.”

“Be patient,” Carolyn said, kissing him lightly on the lips before she left. “I didn't come for the food, remember? When the time is right, we'll be together.”

“Oh,” he said, sitting up and putting on his glasses, “my friend at Caltech called again this morning. Your man's design for a light-weight power source for an exoskeleton looks feasible. The government has offered up to fifty million to any corporation or research facility that perfects a practical and fully functional exoskeleton.” He paused, wiping the lenses of his glasses on the edge of the sheet.

Carolyn was shocked. “Did you say fifty million?”