lifted herself up on her elbows to take a drink. Her breasts, I noticed, were indeed well tanned.
“Jan, we have to talk.”
“Rub a little lotion on my back, will you? I’m afraid I might have gotten a line where I was wearing the top.” She lay down again. This time she turned her head so that she was facing me. Her eyes were closed. I could see the edge of one breast flattened out under her.
“Don’t try to seduce me, Jan. We have to talk about E.J.”
“Lotion, Brady.”
I squeezed a little worm of the white grease onto my palm and rubbed my hands together. Then I knelt beside her and began to apply it to her back. There was a moist sheen on her dark skin. It was smooth and alive under my fingers as I massaged the flesh of her shoulders and back.
“The legs, too,” she mumbled.
I moved over the backs of her thighs. The sun baked down on the concrete, unrelieved by any breeze. It reflected off the pool, and as I worked over Jan’s body sweat burned in my eyes and gathered under the polo shirt I wore.
“Umm. That feels good. Up the sides, now, please.”
My hands spread the grease over her hips, up her waist, then along her ribcage, steering carefully around her breasts. I heard her chuckle.
“Good ol’ Brady. Good ol’ proper attorney. Never fool around with the clients’ wives. Or the clients’ daughters. Never even fool around with the clients.” She sighed. “That’s fine. That’s good enough. Thank you.”
I sat back on my heels. She rolled over, propped herself up on her elbows, and squinted at me. “Don’t you like what you see?”
“I like it very much,” I said. “Cover yourself up, will you?”
She tilted her head and smiled briefly. Then she shrugged and sat up to pull on a tee shirt. It was much too big for her, and it fell below her hips, giving the illusion that it was all she was wearing. It made her look much sexier.
She picked up the glass and took a long drink. She handed it to me. I sipped then put it down.
“So you’re here on business, then.”
“Yes.”
“You’re not here to comfort the grieving mother.”
“You shouldn’t be grieving, Jan.”
“No?”
“No. You should be helping. You should insist on helping. If we’re going to find E.J….”
She snorted. “Find him? You mean find his body, don’t you? Am I supposed to be out looking for my little boy’s body?”
“We don’t know that he’s dead, Jan. There’s no reason not to assume he’s alive. There are things we can do.”
“The FBI, that guy, Stern, he thinks he’s dead. Right? They’ve given up, haven’t they? And the police, they’re not exactly conducting an all-out hunt for my boy. So what am I supposed to do?”
“Jan—”
“I’ll tell you what I’m doing. I’m getting the best goddam tan I’ve ever had, that’s what I’m doing. I’m working hard at it, concentrating. And I’m acquiring a real taste for vodka and tonic. And I figure I’m doing as much as anybody.”
“Every policeman in the country has a picture of E.J. Every FBI office has his picture. No one has given up.”
Jan lifted her glass and took a quick swallow. Then she leaned toward me and gripped my leg. “Well, I have,” she hissed. “I’ve spent the last week lying here giving up. It wasn’t easy. But I did it. I gave up. I got it through my dumb Eyetalian skull that my boy is gone, and that you and Stern and all the rest of you guys have gone back to your jobs, and that Eddie’s no help at all, and that it’s all over, and that I’ve got to accept all that.” She hitched herself forward until her face was close to mine. Her dark eyes were shining, and her voice went soft. “So don’t come around here trying to give me hope, Brady Coyne. Please don’t do that. It would be an unwelcome gift. I don’t want hope now. I want it over. I just want to forget it all. Help me do that, will you?”
Her hand went to the back of my neck and her mouth found mine. Her lips were soft and I
“Jan, we have to talk.”
“Rub a little lotion on my back, will you? I’m afraid I might have gotten a line where I was wearing the top.” She lay down again. This time she turned her head so that she was facing me. Her eyes were closed. I could see the edge of one breast flattened out under her.
“Don’t try to seduce me, Jan. We have to talk about E.J.”
“Lotion, Brady.”
I squeezed a little worm of the white grease onto my palm and rubbed my hands together. Then I knelt beside her and began to apply it to her back. There was a moist sheen on her dark skin. It was smooth and alive under my fingers as I massaged the flesh of her shoulders and back.
“The legs, too,” she mumbled.
I moved over the backs of her thighs. The sun baked down on the concrete, unrelieved by any breeze. It reflected off the pool, and as I worked over Jan’s body sweat burned in my eyes and gathered under the polo shirt I wore.
“Umm. That feels good. Up the sides, now, please.”
My hands spread the grease over her hips, up her waist, then along her ribcage, steering carefully around her breasts. I heard her chuckle.
“Good ol’ Brady. Good ol’ proper attorney. Never fool around with the clients’ wives. Or the clients’ daughters. Never even fool around with the clients.” She sighed. “That’s fine. That’s good enough. Thank you.”
I sat back on my heels. She rolled over, propped herself up on her elbows, and squinted at me. “Don’t you like what you see?”
“I like it very much,” I said. “Cover yourself up, will you?”
She tilted her head and smiled briefly. Then she shrugged and sat up to pull on a tee shirt. It was much too big for her, and it fell below her hips, giving the illusion that it was all she was wearing. It made her look much sexier.
She picked up the glass and took a long drink. She handed it to me. I sipped then put it down.
“So you’re here on business, then.”
“Yes.”
“You’re not here to comfort the grieving mother.”
“You shouldn’t be grieving, Jan.”
“No?”
“No. You should be helping. You should insist on helping. If we’re going to find E.J….”
She snorted. “Find him? You mean find his body, don’t you? Am I supposed to be out looking for my little boy’s body?”
“We don’t know that he’s dead, Jan. There’s no reason not to assume he’s alive. There are things we can do.”
“The FBI, that guy, Stern, he thinks he’s dead. Right? They’ve given up, haven’t they? And the police, they’re not exactly conducting an all-out hunt for my boy. So what am I supposed to do?”
“Jan—”
“I’ll tell you what I’m doing. I’m getting the best goddam tan I’ve ever had, that’s what I’m doing. I’m working hard at it, concentrating. And I’m acquiring a real taste for vodka and tonic. And I figure I’m doing as much as anybody.”
“Every policeman in the country has a picture of E.J. Every FBI office has his picture. No one has given up.”
Jan lifted her glass and took a quick swallow. Then she leaned toward me and gripped my leg. “Well, I have,” she hissed. “I’ve spent the last week lying here giving up. It wasn’t easy. But I did it. I gave up. I got it through my dumb Eyetalian skull that my boy is gone, and that you and Stern and all the rest of you guys have gone back to your jobs, and that Eddie’s no help at all, and that it’s all over, and that I’ve got to accept all that.” She hitched herself forward until her face was close to mine. Her dark eyes were shining, and her voice went soft. “So don’t come around here trying to give me hope, Brady Coyne. Please don’t do that. It would be an unwelcome gift. I don’t want hope now. I want it over. I just want to forget it all. Help me do that, will you?”
Her hand went to the back of my neck and her mouth found mine. Her lips were soft and I
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