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Authors: Gwynne Forster

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BOOK: When the Sun Goes Down
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“He’s after you,” Gunther said, “and I’m a man, so—” She lowered her left eye in a squint. “I wish I could know what you guys mean when you boast that you’re a man. It doesn’t explain anything to me. Of course Carson is after me, as you put it. I wonder what his mama would say about the fact that I’m after
him.
” Gunther’s eyes widened, and she decided to pile it on. “Oh, yes, and I’ll catch him, provided he doesn’t catch me first.”
“Shirley!”
His intended reprimand was forgotten, for the doorbell rang. She winked at her brother and sped to the door.
“Hi.” She gazed up at Carson and imagined that she drooled. “My, but it’s nice to see you.”
He stepped inside, and with one arm around her waist, kissed her on the mouth. “Hi. If I had two free hands, I’d have done a more thorough job of that.” He handed her a bunch of American Beauty roses.
“These are so beautiful. I love flowers. You’re a very sweet man. Thanks.” She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. Then, having satisfied herself that she’d taught Gunther a lesson, she looked where she knew he still stood, smiled, and said, “Carson, you remember Gunther, my brother.”
“Of course I do.” He extended his hand to Gunther. “Thanks for helping me out this morning.”
“Any luck?” Gunther asked him in a tone and manner that said it was a dutiful question not motivated by curiosity.
“Not yet, but if you can find out when Edgar is out of town, I may luck out. I want to spend an entire day there working without losing my focus.”
“He said he was going back to Las Vegas. I’ll let you know.”
Carson eased an arm around Shirley’s waist. “Thanks for your help. Have a good evening.”
They hadn’t yet reached his car when he said, “Were you and Gunther having some words?”
She nearly tripped up. “Why do you ask? Are you clairvoyant? I was giving him a lecture about staying out of my business.”
“He doesn’t want you to date? Or he doesn’t want you to date
me
? Which is it?”
“Gunther is overprotective of me, and he has been for as long as I can remember. When I was little, I trailed behind him like a lace train behind a bride. After we lost our mother when I was twelve, he was everything to me. He got me a date for my senior prom, helped me choose my dress, and then helped me select a college. Those don’t begin to suggest how lost I’d have been if he hadn’t looked after me. But I try to tell him that I’m grown now.”
He helped her into the car and fastened her seat belt. “What was his complaint tonight, if you don’t mind telling me?”
“He thinks I’m moving too fast with you.”
“Yeah? If he said that to me, I’d tell him you aren’t moving fast enough.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Trust me. If a man speaks his mind to me, I have no problem dishing it out to him in return. I have to tell you, though, that you’re fortunate to have a brother like Gunther. He may be a busybody, but he’s a respectable man, and he cares about you. Enough about your brother. You look so beautiful tonight. I’d love to show you off. It makes a guy proud to have a woman like you.”
“And I’m proud that you want to be with me. Speaking of looking good, if I knew how to whistle, I’d have done so, loudly and sharply, when I opened the door tonight.” She tried to whistle. If truth were known, seeing him in a pair of tight jeans made her want to pant for relief. The man was lethal.
For a few minutes, he drove down Columbia Pike without speaking. He appeared to have come to a decision when, without glancing at her, he said, “I’ve got an idea. What do you say we have dinner in Columbia and then drop by to see some friends? I hadn’t planned that, but they invited me and weren’t happy when I declined. I think you would enjoy meeting them.”
“I’d love it. I want to meet your friends.”
At the elegant restaurant, the sight of a crown roast of pork on a table with eight or ten people made her mouth water, but she ordered shrimp Diablo with saffron rice, because she didn’t want to chance soiling her dress with the pork gravy. But she vowed that one day she would drive over to that restaurant alone for lunch and feast on the spaghetti vongole at a time when she wouldn’t worry about the slices of garlic that littered the dish of tiny clams, olive oil, and parsleyed noodles.
“Would you like wine?” Carson asked her. “I’d love some, but I don’t drink when I’m driving.”
“Thank you, but I think I’ll skip it.” She didn’t want to enjoy it when he couldn’t.
“Remember me telling you that I love to please you?” he said. “If I drank some wine, would you?”
“Probably, but I’d prefer not to drink right now.”
His gaze sharpened, and he seemed to be reading her. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it, so he didn’t make her uncomfortable. But she decided to beat him to the draw. “You want to ask me something? I’ll tell you if I know the answer. This shrimp is delicious.”
A smile played on one side of his mouth. “I’m glad you’re enjoying that. It’s really good. I wish this cook would teach me how to prepare rice. It’s wonderful.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“No. I didn’t. You said you’re thirty-two. Does it bother you that you’re entering the period when childbearing can be difficult, or does it matter?”
She understood that he hadn’t asked the question he wanted to ask, but that her answer would nonetheless tell him what he wanted to know. She didn’t believe in pussyfooting around an important issue, so she handed it to him straight.
“If you are asking whether I want any children, the answer is of course I do. I hope I don’t give the impression that I don’t want any. I have my heart set on a boy, a girl, and a boy in that order, or, if not, I’ll be happy with whatever I get.” She gave him a level stare. “By the way, was it by choice that you didn’t have any children with your ex-wife?”
“Definitely not by my choice. When I suggested we start a family, she said no way.”
“Was that the deal breaker for you?”
“That’s something you tell a person before you marry them. Unfortunately, I hadn’t thought to ask her. But she knew I loved children, so ... Well, no point in rehashing that.”
“You can’t be an only child, Carson. How many siblings do you have?”
“I don’t know how you figured that out, but I have a younger brother. He’s a managing electronic engineer with Faulks Engineering, Inc. My father’s a chemical engineer. Why did you conclude that I’m not an only child?”
“Because you’re so generous, and I’m not talking about money. You give yourself, and you don’t judge others harshly. That tells me you’re not self-centered. Unless parents work overtime to prevent it, an only child is likely to think of me, myself, and I.”
He drained his espresso cup. “I’m glad you think I have a congenial personality. Ready when you are.”
She stopped at the women’s room, brushed her teeth, combed her hair, rubbed a paper towel over her face in a light buffing, and dabbed some Obsession behind her ears. “Who knows where he’s taking me? Thank goodness I put on this dress.”
 
“It isn’t too far from here,” he said. “I almost wish we hadn’t decided to go there. This night is something special. Moonlight, a soft breeze, and not a cloud in the sky. It would be wonderful to walk and ... and just be together.”
“October is my favorite time of the year,” she said. “Sixty-five degrees and so calm.”
Carson grasped her hand and held it as they walked to his car. He started the engine, but then turned it off and looked squarely at her. Was this happening to him, or was he hallucinating? “You really get to me. You know that? Are you happy when we’re together?”
She leaned toward him. “Happy hardly describes what I experience when I’m with you. It’s ... As soon as you leave me, I’m lonely for you.”
“I care a lot for you, Shirley, and it’s deep.”
“I ... It’s mutual, Carson.”
Chapter Eight
Carson had never liked big parties at which people stood around drinking and making small talk. If he had to socialize with people not of his own choosing, he’d rather do it at a dinner for not more than eight. In that way, he could at least learn something about those guests he hadn’t previously met. He drove into a three-car garage attached to a big red-brick house surrounded by beautifully manicured lawn and shrubs and with tall trees near enough to give it summer shade.
He got out, walked around to Shirley, and rubbed her nose with his thumb. “Woman, you exasperate me sometimes. I wanted to open the door for you. I know you are capable of finding your way out of it, but it’s my pleasure to open it for you, and you’ve cheated me out of it.”
“How careless and thoughtless of me,” she said, slid back into the car, and closed the door. With her hands lying in her lap and her shoulders relaxed against the back of the seat, she looked at him, her face blooming in an innocent smile. He couldn’t shake her, as badly as he wanted to do
something
to her. With the long-ago demise of the caveman culture, he couldn’t do what he felt like doing, so he opened the door, held out his hand, and assisted her out of the car.
“I owe you one for that, Shirley.”
“I imagine you do, and I can’t wait to get it. You
will
make it pleasant, won’t you?” She dusted the side of his face with the back of her hand. “Don’t look so shocked. If I promised you something, you’d be dying to get it, wouldn’t you?”
“Quit while you’re ahead, Shirley. For two cents, I’d take you somewhere right now, and ... Look, this is childish. I’m not going to play smartass with something that’s important to me, to both of us.”
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have started that, but you were looking so serious that I couldn’t help teasing.”
“Teasing? You weren’t teasing; you were saying some things you wanted to get off your chest. I told you that I take seriously everything you say, including the things you say in jest. How do I introduce you?”
“My name is Shirley Farrell. You know that.”
“May I introduce you as my girl?”
“Oh! I see. But we’re not intimate.”
He grasped her hand and began walking toward the door. “Intimacy is not a criterion.” He didn’t like that frown on her face.
“It ought to be. But I like the idea, so why not? What’s the matter?” she asked when the air seemed to whoosh out of him.
He wondered if he should believe his ears. “You take some getting used to. I haven’t met many women who’re as candid as you are, and as I recall, I encountered those in connection with business matters. Do you realize what you said to me?”
She squeezed his fingers and stars twinkled in her eyes. “Sure I do, and I trust you to be sensible with that information.”
“You trust me to ... I try to be sensible all the time, Shirley. But with these challenges you’re throwing at me, it isn’t easy.” He rang the doorbell.
“Carson! My man, this is great. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t get here.” The man’s gaze shifted to Shirley, and both of his eyebrows shot up. “Mmm. I see there’ve been some changes made.”
“Lester Coleman, this is my girl, Shirley Farrell.”
“And what a girl! I’m glad to meet you, Shirley. You two come in and meet folks.”
“Hello, Lester. It’s nice to meet you.”
Carson glanced at her from his peripheral vision. Surely she didn’t have a reason for that frosty tone of voice. If Lester noticed it, he didn’t make it obvious.
“Where’s Alma?” Carson asked the man about his wife.
“She’s somewhere around. With all these people, I can’t keep up with her.” Lester introduced them to people who would forever be a blur to Carson, for he didn’t attempt to remember their names or their faces. He heard Shirley ask a woman if she knew where the bathroom was.
“There’s one down here and another in the basement, but if you’re in a hurry, I suggest you go upstairs and turn left.” Shirley thanked the woman and turned to Carson.
“Excuse me for a couple of minutes, and please don’t move from here, because I’d never find you.”
She returned a few minutes later wearing a strange facial expression. “Do you know a woman who’s very fair, has reddish hair, light brown eyes, about my height, a heavy bosom, and real full lips?”
“Yeah. That would be Alma, Lester’s wife.” Someone slapped him on the back, and he whirled around to find a close friend smiling at him.
“You old son-of-a-gun. If I’d known I’d see you, I wouldn’t have given my wife such a hard time about coming here. Carson Montgomery, this is my wife, Francine.”
Carson accepted the greeting, put an arm around Shirley’s waist, and urged her closer to him. “Richard and Francine Spaldwood Peterson, this is my girl, Shirley Farrell. Shirley, Richard has been everything from an ambassador to the secretary-general of an international organization with headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland. Francine and I are in the same profession.”
Shirley’s eyes lit up with eager sparkles. “You’re a detective? How exciting! Are you a cop, too?”
Francine laughed and nodded. “I know. People say I look too tender to be either, but if they mess with me, they have it confirmed that you can’t judge a book by its cover.”
“Excuse me,” Carson said, mainly to Shirley. “I’m going up the stairs. Do I turn left or right?”
“You’d better go down to the basement,” Shirley said.
Strange,
he thought. But she’d just been up there, so he’d do as she suggested. It pleased him that Shirley remained with his friends, Richard and Francine Peterson. He had worked with Francine on several high-risk jobs during which they became good friends. He’d often wondered if he could work with a partner he didn’t like, since his life could depend on that person’s loyalty. He had discovered that, as a detective, Francine was as sharp as any man and better than most.
Richard put a hand on Carson’s shoulder. “We’d love for you and Shirley to visit us over on the shore. We live in Ocean Pines right on the ocean, not far from Ocean City. It’s idyllic. We wouldn’t live anyplace else.”
“And we have a big house that we built with the intention of having guests,” Francine added.
“Thanks for the thought,” he said. “We both love the water. Shirley is public relations director for the Paradise Cruise Line, and she’s away most weekends, but if she’s willing, we’ll work something out.”
“Please come,” Francine said to Shirley. “I promise you’ll want to come back.” Shirley thanked her, and it pleased Carson that they seemed to like each other. They talked for a while, but the smell of liquor and cigarette smoke got to him. He hated to disturb Shirley, who seemed engrossed in her conversation with Francine, but he longed for fresh air. Finally he caught Shirley’s eye and, as if she’d read his thoughts, she said to Francine, “Carson can take just so much of scenes like this, so I suppose we’ll be leaving.” She smiled at him. “Am I right?”
“As usual, you’re on the button.”
They told their friends and the host good night, and it surprised Shirley that he didn’t appear to be concerned that they were about to leave and hadn’t greeted their hostess. A few blocks from Route 29, which would take them to Ellicott City, he turned into the parking lot of a small café and parked.
“Let’s go in here. I’d like some coffee.”
“Fine. I’d like some, too, and maybe some lemon custard ice cream.”
He ordered coffee and the ice cream for both of them, leaned back in the booth, and asked the question that had plagued him all evening. “Why were you so cool to Lester when we arrived?”
“Because I don’t like men who flirt with their friend’s date.”
He stared at her for a second and then laughter rumbled out of him. “Sorry,” he said when he’d brought the laughter under control. “I’d forgotten that Lester is a compulsive womanizer. He’ll go after any woman who isn’t a blood relative. You certainly cooled him off.”
She pulled air through her front teeth, surprising him, because he hadn’t previously known her to do that. “He should have been upstairs cooling off his wife.”
“
What?
What do you ... That’s right. You described her to me. Where did you see her?”
“On top of a man who wasn’t Lester. And since her husband didn’t seem worried about her absence, I suspect they have an open marriage. I met three couples there who I’d like to see again, but not those two.”
“Different strokes for different folks. If what you suspect is true, I’m surprised at Lester. It’s been only eight years since he was a certified country bumpkin lured by the sight of every pretty bosom he saw. I’m ready when you are.”
He drove through the winding roads and along the beautiful waters in Patapsco Park, lit by a frosty-looking late-autumn moon. “I wonder why I never paid attention to nature,” he said as he drove beneath low-hanging evergreen branches through which the moonlight made intricate and beautiful patterns. “When you get right down to it, nature offers the best sedative, the best de-stressing medicine a person needs. And if this environment doesn’t seduce a woman, a man had better admit that he doesn’t have a damned thing going for him.”
“Did you think you had to bring me here in order to seduce me?”
“Why would I do that?” he said, his tone suddenly frosty. “You’ve already told me you can’t wait to get what I owe you.”
“Oh, Carson. That sounds terrible. I was being flippant. When it comes to sophistication, you’re far ahead of me.”
“I know that, and it’s one reason why I don’t want to engage in one-upmanship with you. It isn’t natural, and it can be hurtful.”
“But I have a habit of jostling with people I care about.”
“And you care about me?”
“Yes, I do.”
Straight from the shoulder. He hoped she was as honest a lover as she was in respect to other things. “Don’t you care about me?” she asked, her voice a little shaky. His antenna went up. Could it be that her bravado masked insecurity? He hoped not, for it was a part of her that he liked a great deal. Her cell phone rang.
“Go on and answer your cell phone,” he said when it continued to ring. A rueful smile slid over his face. “I won’t feel neglected.”
She fished around in her pocketbook and found the phone. “Edgar! Hi. Where are you?”
“At the Breakers Harbor Hotel. I’m about to go on. When are you going back to Fort Lauderdale? Gunther’s getting so highfalutin that I can’t talk to ... What the devil? Hey, I smell smoke. That’s an alarm. I gotta get out of here.”
“What? Where are you in that hotel?” She heard a dial tone. “Carson. Please. We ... I have to go to the Breakers Harbor Hotel in the Inner Harbor. Edgar said it’s a ... that he smelled smoke.” She repeated what her brother told her. “Suppose he doesn’t get out.”
“He will get out, sweetheart. Don’t worry. Damn these bucket seats. Move closer to me.”
She didn’t remember biting her nails since she flunked her eighth-grade cooking class. Every nerve in her body seemed torched. Her legs and thighs perspired profusely, and when she tried to answer Carson, her teeth chattered so badly that she couldn’t get out a word.
“Lord, p-please d-don’t let anything h-happen to Edgar. L-let him g-get out of th-there,” she finally stammered. Carson switched from Route 29 that led to Ellicott City, took the transfer to Route 95, and headed for Baltimore.
“Those are ambulance sirens,” she said. “What are we going to do?”
“Easy, sweetheart. We don’t know that he’s in trouble. Let’s send out positive vibes and hope for the best.” He parked a block from the hotel, because the police wouldn’t let him drive into the block. They jumped out of the car, and he grabbed her hand and raced with her to the middle of the block in which the hotel stood. There, two policemen stopped them.
“My brother’s in that hotel,” she screamed, and immediately Carson’s arm eased around her and brought her closer to him. Still holding Shirley firmly to his body, he handed the policeman his ID card.
“It’s a mess up there, sir,” the policeman said. “I think you ought to leave the lady here.”
“D-did they get everybody out?” she asked the policeman.
“I don’t know, ma’am. That’s an awfully big building.”
She groped for the lamppost and leaned against it, fearing that her liquid limbs would give way. Holding a facial tissue to her nose, she blew as hard as she could in an effort to get rid of the acrid smoke and the odor of assorted burning objects.
“Sit on this, ma’am,” a fireman said, and turned a bucket upside down.
She sank to it gladly. “Thank you so much.”
Closer to the fire-ravaged hotel, EMS workers wheeled someone up to an ambulance, and she jumped up. But she couldn’t determine whether the person was alive. She worried her bottom lip. Why hadn’t Carson come back?
A third-floor window belched thick black smoke, and Shirley sprang up and raced toward the hotel and into the steel-like body of Carson Montgomery.
BOOK: When the Sun Goes Down
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