.”
“I shouldn’t have been joking,” Mel said. “I know it now, but I was scared of that much emotion. And then your great bellow of laughter almost crushed my chest, and I was laughing along with you, helpless. And I felt you grow hard again.”
“I’ve never laughed when I made love before,”
Ed remembered saying to her.
“I just wanted to
eat you up.”
“Now don’t go telling me about all the oth
ers,” you said in that firm no-nonsense voice. “I
want to believe I’m the only one.”
“You are the only one,” I told you. And I
meant it, Zelda, I meant it. You will always be
my only one.
“Great,” you said. “So are you. My only one.”
A giggle erupted from your throat and I kissed
it away. “Then we’re even,” I said. “Life starts
from this day. This moment.” I raised myself up
on my arms. Our eyes locked. I was inside you
again, and your body reacted. You swore it had
nothing to do with you, nothing to do with your
head at all. Your body wanted me and it was not
going to take no for an answer.
“I knew you would always be ready to oblige
a lady,” you murmured, running your hands
across my naked butt, making me laugh again,
even as I moved deep inside you.
Oh, Zelda, Zelda, it was a night that should
never have ended. . . .
“It was our beginning,” Mel said sadly. “Who would have dreamed that this could happen? But they can’t take you away from me. I’ll find those bastards and I’ll kill them. I swear, Ed, if you die, I’ll kill them with my own hands.”
Another reason not to die,
Ed thought with a sigh. . . .
He couldn’t let her become a murderer,
just because of him. . . . Don’t be crazy, he
wanted to say, but telling Zelda not to be crazy
was like telling a canary not to sing.
Standing in the doorway to the hospital room, Detective Camelia heard Mel’s final words and he knew without any doubt that he had been accusing the wrong woman. Knowing she was unaware of his presence, he had heard her speak the truth.
She turned and looked at him. She was haggard from lack of sleep, drooping with fatigue, devastated by Ed’s fight with death. Camelia’s heart lurched.
“How about a cup of coffee?” he said.
24
Camelia sat opposite Mel Merrydew—a.k.a. Zelda—in the steamy little deli around the corner from the hospital. Another sleepless night had not enhanced her appearance. Her skin had lost the peachy California glow he had noticed when he first saw her. Now it looked dull, grayish, with shadows as dark as bruises under her eyes. It hurt him just to look at her.
“You look like hell,” he said bluntly. “You can’t go on like this. You know—not eating, not sleeping. Ask yourself, what good is it doin’ him anyways?”
Mel lifted her head from her coffee cup. She stared at him, stunned.
The waiter came over. “What can I get you?” He was brisk, efficient, no time to spare, like all New Yorkers. He looked inquiringly at Mel, but she just shook her head and turned away.
Camelia said, “The lady will have scrambled eggs, bacon, and a toasted sesame bagel. I’ll have lox and cream cheese on the same. And make those bagels well toasted, will ya?”
“I’m not hungry,” Mel protested wearily.
“Oh yes you are. You’ve just forgotten about food is all. Kinda need retraining into the food mode.” Camelia grinned at her, but she did not smile back. “Look,” he said gently, “I know what you’re thinking. That it’s none of my business. But Ed Vincent has become my business. And right now I need you more than he does.”
Suddenly panicked, Mel pushed back her chair and grabbed her bag, ready to run. “I shouldn’t have left him.”
“He’s not going to die, y’know, just because you’re not around. In fact, he may just not die at all. Did you ever consider that fact, Miss Melba?”
“Mel,” she corrected him automatically. She sank back into the chair, then added, as though he needed to know, “I always hated my name. Melba
“I shouldn’t have been joking,” Mel said. “I know it now, but I was scared of that much emotion. And then your great bellow of laughter almost crushed my chest, and I was laughing along with you, helpless. And I felt you grow hard again.”
“I’ve never laughed when I made love before,”
Ed remembered saying to her.
“I just wanted to
eat you up.”
“Now don’t go telling me about all the oth
ers,” you said in that firm no-nonsense voice. “I
want to believe I’m the only one.”
“You are the only one,” I told you. And I
meant it, Zelda, I meant it. You will always be
my only one.
“Great,” you said. “So are you. My only one.”
A giggle erupted from your throat and I kissed
it away. “Then we’re even,” I said. “Life starts
from this day. This moment.” I raised myself up
on my arms. Our eyes locked. I was inside you
again, and your body reacted. You swore it had
nothing to do with you, nothing to do with your
head at all. Your body wanted me and it was not
going to take no for an answer.
“I knew you would always be ready to oblige
a lady,” you murmured, running your hands
across my naked butt, making me laugh again,
even as I moved deep inside you.
Oh, Zelda, Zelda, it was a night that should
never have ended. . . .
“It was our beginning,” Mel said sadly. “Who would have dreamed that this could happen? But they can’t take you away from me. I’ll find those bastards and I’ll kill them. I swear, Ed, if you die, I’ll kill them with my own hands.”
Another reason not to die,
Ed thought with a sigh. . . .
He couldn’t let her become a murderer,
just because of him. . . . Don’t be crazy, he
wanted to say, but telling Zelda not to be crazy
was like telling a canary not to sing.
Standing in the doorway to the hospital room, Detective Camelia heard Mel’s final words and he knew without any doubt that he had been accusing the wrong woman. Knowing she was unaware of his presence, he had heard her speak the truth.
She turned and looked at him. She was haggard from lack of sleep, drooping with fatigue, devastated by Ed’s fight with death. Camelia’s heart lurched.
“How about a cup of coffee?” he said.
24
Camelia sat opposite Mel Merrydew—a.k.a. Zelda—in the steamy little deli around the corner from the hospital. Another sleepless night had not enhanced her appearance. Her skin had lost the peachy California glow he had noticed when he first saw her. Now it looked dull, grayish, with shadows as dark as bruises under her eyes. It hurt him just to look at her.
“You look like hell,” he said bluntly. “You can’t go on like this. You know—not eating, not sleeping. Ask yourself, what good is it doin’ him anyways?”
Mel lifted her head from her coffee cup. She stared at him, stunned.
The waiter came over. “What can I get you?” He was brisk, efficient, no time to spare, like all New Yorkers. He looked inquiringly at Mel, but she just shook her head and turned away.
Camelia said, “The lady will have scrambled eggs, bacon, and a toasted sesame bagel. I’ll have lox and cream cheese on the same. And make those bagels well toasted, will ya?”
“I’m not hungry,” Mel protested wearily.
“Oh yes you are. You’ve just forgotten about food is all. Kinda need retraining into the food mode.” Camelia grinned at her, but she did not smile back. “Look,” he said gently, “I know what you’re thinking. That it’s none of my business. But Ed Vincent has become my business. And right now I need you more than he does.”
Suddenly panicked, Mel pushed back her chair and grabbed her bag, ready to run. “I shouldn’t have left him.”
“He’s not going to die, y’know, just because you’re not around. In fact, he may just not die at all. Did you ever consider that fact, Miss Melba?”
“Mel,” she corrected him automatically. She sank back into the chair, then added, as though he needed to know, “I always hated my name. Melba
Similar Books
