Blood Relations by Barbara Parker Page A

Frank.” She tossed her hat onto an armchair stacked with photography magazines. ‘I wish you wouldn’t just come in here like that.”
    “Afraid I might catch you at something?”
    “Ha-ha.” Caitlin set her camera on a workbench by the darkroom door. “I thought you were going to be at my apartment later. Someone wants me to do some head shots at three o’clock, and I really can’t stop to talk.”
    “It’s nice to be missed.”
    “Aww-w-w.” She came around the table to kiss him.
    He didn’t respond other than to tilt his face up, wanting to see how much she would put into it.
    Not much. It was a friendly peck on the lips.
    She patted his shoulder. “Did Tommy Chang come byT’ “He just left. He said to tell you he’s taking the film to the lab.” Frank watched her go over to the sink to wash her hands and face. Her fanny moved when she worked up the suds. He asked, “How’d the Grand Caribe shoot go?”
    “Fine. I think we got some good ones.”
    “Everything okay with Marty? Did he pay you?”
    She dried her hands. “He wasn’t there. I’ll see him next week for a check.”
    “You didn’t see him today?”
    “No.” She hung up the towel on a hook. “If I have any problems with Marty, I’ll let you know.”
    Frank smiled. What made her lie like that? It was a challenge, figuring out what she held back, what she would tell him. “Let’s go to the Strand tonight,” he said.
    “I’ve got some clients coming, so wear something nice.
    The blue dress I bought you. My suit’s in my car. I’ll change at your place.”
    She stood with a hand on her hip as if she was going to say something, then shook her head. He knew what that was about. She didn’t want him making himself at home in her apartment. They had already had that argument more than once, and he didn’t want to start it up again. He decided not to remind her that he owned the building and she didn’t pay a dime in rent.
    He said, “If you don’t mind.”
    She shook her head, then leaned over to unload the cart her assistant had brought up. Frank noticed the broken vein on the back of her left thigh. And she was getting lines around her eyes. Her body wasn’t as firm as it used to be either, but none of that mattered to him. Caitlin Dom was still a beauty. Eight years ago he had met her at a party for the production staff of Miami Vice, and her smile had nearly knocked him out. Some of his friends dated younger women, often in their early twenties. They went through one after another of these girls.
    Frank didn’t want that. What he and Caitlin had was permanent.
    But now and then they’d hit a rough spot, and she’d have to be by herself for a few months. He used to tell himself that an occasional separation kept the relationship fresh, but he was getting tired of this game. Maybe he spoiled her. Caidin didn’t realize how few good men there were out there, especially for women her age. Frank knew he was a good catch. He had a successful law practice. He was healthy and trim, appearing younger than his age, which was forty-seven. He got along with just about everyone, provided they weren’t total assholes.
    Lately Frank had started thinking about marriage, which he’d sworn never to do again, having been through two of them. Last week, in fact, he was about to suggest that Caitlin move her things into his condo in the Grove, but there were those vibes again, like the small tremors that precede a major earthquake.
    Something was going on with her, ever since that model had been raped. Possibly that was bothering Caitlin, but Frank didn’t think so. He was afraid it was something else.
    About three years ago, during one of their longer separations, he had suspected she was running around. He hired a private investigator and got the story. She’d been cheating on him with Sam Hagen. A double betrayal.
    Frank had brought Sam into his office a year or two before that, paid him a good salary, and spent considerable effort