Part 6 (2/2)
”You care for him a lot.”
”He's an honest defense lawyer. When was the last time you heard those words strung together in the same sentence? Plus he believes the sixties really happened. You gotta love a guy with that kind of sense of humor.” He kissed her on the cheek. ”Drive careful.”
”Thanks for dinner,” she said.
He watched her drive until the car disappeared around the corner. He remained outside for a moment and thought about Miller. He shook his head and smiled, then walked toward the front door, quietly singing, ”Ain't gonna let n.o.body turn me 'round, turn me 'round, turn me 'round. Ain't gonna let n.o.body . . .”
CHAPTER 13.
AFTER RACHEL RECEIVED the phone call, she applied some light makeup to her cheeks-nothing too fancy or obvious-then worked on her eyelashes. G.o.d had blessed her with naturally long ones that seemed to invite the wrong type of strangers to gaze into her soul. Or so they tried. Occasionally she attracted the right men, who'd stay longer than the next application of mascara. She had a good life, better than her mother's, better than she sometimes thought she deserved. But still there remained a second pillow, seldom used. She kept it by her side and waited for a good reason to fluff it. Perhaps tonight, she hoped.
A loud sports car pulled into the driveway and sputtered. She smiled and brushed back her hair. She opened the door and went outside, making herself comfortable and attractive on the front porch.
”Hi,” Miller said. ”I hope I didn't call you too late.”
”There's too late and there's not at all.” They both smiled the same sad expression. ”Have a seat, Todd.”
”You're not too cold?” he asked.
”Would you rather be inside?” she responded with an accusing tease.
Miller sat next to her on the swinging settee. ”No, no, this will be fine for now.” He leaned back and looked at her. ”Just didn't want you to catch something. There's a chill in the air.”
She wet her index finger and stuck it high above her head. ”There's a lot in the air this evening. All of it ain't cold.”
Miller twiddled his fingers, and the swing swayed back and forth.
”What's wrong, Todd?”
”Wrong?” He looked at her, puzzled. ”Nothing's wrong. I was just thinking about you and thought, since I was driving out this way, I'd give you a call to see . . .”
”If I was lonely, too?”
He stopped swaying.
”Doesn't matter why you called,” she continued. ”I'm glad you did.”
He smiled gratefully and started swaying again. This time she helped.
”You're dressed pretty spiffy. You have one of your late-night client meetings?”
”Dinner with friends, nothing special. Talked law most of the night. Or to be more specific, justice.”
”You can't stop being an attorney even on a Sat.u.r.day night.”
”It's in my blood, three generations.”
”You ever think what you might be if you hadn't become a lawyer?”
”Probably a blues singer.”
She laughed and leaned closer to him. They both stopped swaying. She s.h.i.+vered and lightly rubbed her arms. ”Guess you were right about that chill,” she said playfully.
”You think we should go inside now?” he asked cautiously.
She stood and took his hand. ”Think we probably should've gone in when you first suggested it.”
They entered the house, and she double-locked the front door. After they'd made love, she studied with amus.e.m.e.nt the pillow wedged between the headboard and his face, and released a sigh.
”What's the matter?” he asked.
”Nothing,” she said with a smile. ”I'm just relieved that pillow got used. I was getting sick and tired of seein' it puffed up so full and proper like a proud little man with a stuck-out, hairless chest.”
He put his arm around her and drew her closer to him. She placed her head on his heart, and he held her.
”How come you never had any children?” she asked.
”I never wanted to be evaluated that honestly.” He stroked her hair.
She kissed him on the cheek, then more softly on the lips.
”What'd you do that for?” he asked.
”I heard good lawyers avoid asking questions they don't know the answers to.” She ran her hand down his leg. ”You're a good lawyer, aren't you, Todd?” She grabbed his pillow and propped it under his head.
”Is it time for the defense to rest?”
”Not yet,” she answered seductively, then moved her body on top of his. Her eyelashes fluttered twice. ”Not yet.”
CHAPTER 14.
DELBERT FINNEY STARED at the tape recorder on the detective's desk. ”You gonna turn that on?” he asked.
”Not right now,” answered the detective, who was reviewing his notes. He circled two sections and asked, ”How often did you say you visited Professor Matheson's home?”
”Just that once.”
”Sounded like you really enjoyed yourself.”
Delbert's smile lit up the small room usually reserved for interviewing criminal suspects. ”Most beautiful place I'd ever seen. We watched movies on a giant screen built right into the wall and ate take-out chicken and popcorn. n.o.body important ever paid that much attention to me or cared what I wanted in life.”
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