The hunt, p.12
The Hunt, page 12
“I’M LEAVING TOMORROW at around eleven, which will put me into LAX around two in the afternoon,” Decker told McAdams. “We should start heading north as soon as we can, because traffic will start to get really bad on the freeway.”
“What flight are you on?” McAdams asked. After getting the numbers and time, he said, “I’ll leave tonight for Manhattan. I can stay over at my grandmother’s and catch a ten o’clock out of JFK. That’ll get me in around one. I’ll rent a car.”
“That’ll save time,” Decker said. “Are we getting compensated?”
“Five hundred apiece to pay for everything. My flight alone will cost me six times that.”
“You’re going first class?”
“Unfortunately, it’s a business/first instead of a true first class. It was the best I could do on such short notice.”
“I’m shedding a tear.”
“You’ll be shedding several once you’re crammed into steerage.”
“Rub it in, why don’t you?”
McAdams said, “Console yourself in knowing that the rich inbreed. While the plebs with their genetic diversity foster creativity and divergent thinking, the wealthy end up producing drug-addicted spoiled brats and odd ducks who wear funny hats.”
“Which category are you in, Tyler?”
“Life is not either-or.”
Decker laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you then,” McAdams said. “I’ll be the one having a tantrum while wearing my best beret.”
“GET DRESSED,” CHRIS told me. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
It was a quarter to three in the afternoon. “Juleen?”
“Uh, that’s going to have to wait, because I got you a dental appointment.”
“Thank you.” I was trying to hide my disappointment.
“You’ll see her later, Terry, but the doc cleared his last appointments for you. Get dressed so we can go.”
“I am dressed.”
“Do you have anything else?”
I looked at my dress, a maxi in a nice floral print. “What’s wrong with this?”
“It’s a little … Manson girl.”
I let out a small laugh. “Manson girl?”
“Yeah, you know. Those clips of Leslie Van What’s-Her-Face singing as she was being led off to prison.” When I smiled, he said, “I’m taking my bike. I want your legs covered.”
I opened a dresser drawer and took out a pair of jeans. They were now a couple of sizes too big. Chris appraised me. “They’ll fit you once you start eating again. Just put a belt on.”
“I don’t have a belt. I didn’t have a lot of time to pack.”
“It’s fine. Just put on a shirt and let’s go.”
I hadn’t been out of his bedroom suite since he brought me there nearly a week ago. As soon as I stepped outside, I felt like I could breathe again. It was warm. The air was perfumed with summer, and the sky engulfed me in a glorious blue wrap. A guard was keeping watch over his motorcycle. He handed Chris two helmets. Mine was too big, so Chris adjusted the strap and helped me onto the seat.
“Ducati?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“You always favored Italian bikes. Cars too. I bet you own a Ferrari.”
“I bet you’re right.”
“I used to ride a scooter in Mumbai. It’s the easiest way to maneuver the streets.”
“Same principle, just a bigger engine. Hold on.” When I wrapped my arms around his waist, he said, “If you put your hands a little lower, I wouldn’t object.”
“Do you ever stop?”
“Never.” He revved the engine with his hands and then he peeled off.
We went down a dirt path until we hit asphalt. The place was located in a strip mall next to a sandwich shop and a hardware store—a small-town atmosphere. Within minutes, I was seated in a dental chair. Chris asked him how long, and the dentist—a nice-looking dark-haired guy around my age—told him over an hour, maybe even two. His name was Dr. Kenneth Woodruff.
“I’ve got things to do,” Chris said. “Unless you want me to stay with you.”
“No, no,” I told him. “I’ll be fine.”
He left, and about two hours later, the dentist took the bib off me. My bottom molars were wired to each other, but my jaw was free, although it was sore when I tried to open my mouth. But I could lick my lips for the first time in weeks. He had scraped and polished my teeth, and I felt normal if I didn’t look at my face or at my arm in the cast. Chris was in the waiting room, clicking away at his phone. Next to him were two big bags. I was holding a pile of discharge instructions.
“Done?” he asked. He stowed the mobile in his pocket.
“I am.”
“How do you feel?”
“More human than not.”
“Take it easy for the next month,” Woodruff said. “Your back teeth are still wobbly. Soups, soft vegetables, fish. No steak, okay?”
“Got it,” I told him.
Chris looked at the dentist. “Thanks for making time, Doc.”
“No problem, Mr. Donatti.”
Chris put his arm around me. “Ready?”
“I am.” I looked at the clock. It was around five when we left. As we were walking to his bike, I said, “Are you taking me to see Juleen?”
“In an hour.”
“Why an hour?”
He looked at me with intense eyes. I said nothing. Another hour wouldn’t make a difference. I felt better and I wouldn’t even mind the contact with him. But I felt he was stalling. He said, “I’ve been dreaming of kissing you.”
“You’re not a big kisser. You mean other things.”
“Maybe.” He gave me the helmet. “You used to like blow jobs.” I did like them. It had been one of the few times during sex that he ceded control. He asked, “Do you still like them?”
“I suppose. It’s been a while.”
“How long?”
“Are you asking Devek’s size, or how much time has passed?”
He broke out in laughter. “Maybe both.”
“To both those questions, I say none of your beeswax.”
“Seriously, how long has it been since you fucked him?”
“A long time.” I paused. “He has a girlfriend.”
“Did he take up with her before or after you stopped having sex with him?”
“Why are you torturing me?” He waited. “After.”
“Can’t blame him if he’s not getting it at home.”
“So now you’re Devek’s advocate? You love giving me a hard time, don’t you?”
He ran his finger down my crooked nose. His smile turned to a grin. “Sorry.”
I looked around. “God, it’s wonderful to be outside. I feel like an uncaged bird.” I turned to him. “Thanks for everything you’ve done for me, Donatti. I am very aware of the dire situation I was in.”
He didn’t answer. He loaded the bags on the back of the bike and then looked at me. “You really want to thank me?”
I sighed. “I already said I’ll do whatever you want if you find …” I let the words hang. He didn’t need to be reminded about Sanjay. It would only piss him off.
“I don’t mean sex for once,” he said. I waited. “I have an engagement tonight with a couple of clients and the women I set them up with. Drinks in the lounge at around eleven.”
“What lounge?”
“I have one on the premises. It’s like an old-fashioned club. Lots of the men go there to talk or read or smoke and brag—show off the women they’re with. But a surprising number of business deals are done there. I’d like you to come with me.” He paused. “That’s what these bags are for. They’re dresses for you.”
I guess I couldn’t go as his whore in a Manson dress. Why not? “Okay.”
“Thank you.”
We rode home and walked up to his bedroom in silence. After a half hour of playtime, it was about five-thirty. I got dressed, rubbed my sore jaw, and said, “Can I see my daughter now?”
“In a few minutes. Let me show you the dresses first.”
Stalling. “Sure.”
He straightened the bedsheets and laid them out. Three cocktail dresses—all black and all short. There were also three shoeboxes. I looked at the clothing. “Which one do you like?”
He gave the question some thought. “This one.”
It had a tight, short skirt and a sleeveless, drapey bodice with a plunge in the front and a plunge in the back. “Fine.”
“Try it on for me.” Still stalling. He saw me look at the clock on the nightstand. “I promise I’ll take you to see Juleen. I just want to see how you look, okay?”
“These clients must be important.”
“They’re venture capitalists. They specialize in funding vices—lots of online gambling as well as some physical casinos. This would be their first foray into brothels. I’d like to get some money out of them.”
“You’re expanding?”
“Depends on how much money they’re willing to invest.”
I nodded and took off my oversize jeans and baggy T-shirt. I slipped on the dress. Once it would have been too tight. Now it was big. I was sure that would change once I started eating. The front had two straps across the plunge so it didn’t open up. He zipped up the skirt for me.
“Okay?” I asked.
“Take off your bra with it. A little side boob is sexy.”
Not that there was much of that. When I lost weight, I lost it all over, unfortunately. “I’ll take it off tonight.” I looked in the shoeboxes—the same black backless heels in three sizes: a 6, 6½, and 7.
“I don’t remember your exact size,” he told me.
“It’s six and a half.” I tried them on and waited for a comment. He spun his index finger and I turned around for him. “Okay?”
“You look lovely.”
He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small jewelry box sized for a ring or earrings. “Try these on.”
These. That meant earrings. I opened the box. Diamond studs. My eyes got big. “These are gorgeous!” I grinned. “God, there’s enough bling here for a sports team!” I looked at him. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome. Try them on.”
“God, I’ve never seen anything so sparkly.” I hadn’t worn earrings in a very long time. The holes were still open, but it took a little maneuvering to thread the studs in back through my earlobes. When I was done, I pushed my hair back and looked in the bathroom mirror. “These are outrageous!” I told him. “You could see me coming a mile away.”
He was suddenly behind me, hands on my shoulders. “I’m glad you like them.”
I turned around and kissed his lips. “Thank you.”
He was staring at me. “I never got you an engagement ring, did I?”
“These more than make up for it.” I walked back into the bedroom and tried to unzip my skirt. “Chris, I really do want to see Juleen.”
“I know.” He unzipped my skirt and undid the straps in front. The dress fell from my shoulders and to the floor. He put his arms around my waist and kissed my neck. “What about Devek? I’m sure he bought you an engagement ring.”
“He did,” I said. “It was beautiful—an emerald surrounded by diamonds. He sold it, along with the other pieces he gave me as well as anything else we had of value, to help pay off his debts. We were almost out of the woods, until he went back to the tables one last time, which became two and three and four, and he got us deeper into debt than the first time.” I broke away and retrieved my Manson dress from the floor. I stepped into it. “Gambling never appealed to you?”
“Not a whit. I like money too much.”
“Good for you.” I took off my shoes and put on my slippers. “I’m ready.”
He looked at me intensely. “Thank you for doing this for me.”
“I’m happy to be your whore.”
“You’re not my whore.”
“Arm candy. Whatever. I’m happy to help. For tonight, can you get me a little makeup?”
“I’ll do your face. I’ll also do your hair.”
“Thank you.” I kissed his nose. “Can we go?”
He stood rooted. “Teresa, I don’t want you there as a whore. I don’t want you there as arm candy. I want you there as my wife.” I didn’t say anything. “I know that’s an issue right now, but it’s an issue that can be fixed.” He reached in his pocket and threw three rings on the bed. “Take your pick.”
I regarded his eyes, then walked over to examine the jewelry. One was a solitary round diamond, one was a cushion-cut diamond surrounded by little diamonds, and the last one was two round diamonds—one with an arc of tiny pavé diamonds above it and the other with an arc of pavé diamonds below. I said, “Is this making up for past neglect, or is this moving forward?”
“What do you think?” When I didn’t answer, he said, “I don’t know your taste in jewelry since I never bought you gifts.”
“That’s not totally true.”
“I’m not counting the earrings I bought you when you were sixteen.”
“I still have them.”
“I saw when I unpacked your stuff.” He paused. “Why’d you keep them?”
I shrugged. “I guess I’m a sentimentalist. That and your mother’s cross were the only things I had left from you … other than Gabe.”
“I saw the necklace as well.” His eyes grew far away. “It took me back some.”
“I’m sure.” I nodded. “I was going to give it to Gabe—like an heirloom—but then he converted to Judaism. My other two children are Hindu. You want it back?”
“No, no. You keep it.” Chris was quiet. “My sum total of presents: a cheap pair of pearl earrings and my mother’s silver cross. And a wedding band, which I didn’t see anywhere.”
I was quiet.
He said, “I could have done better.”
“You took me out of penury. Gabe and I couldn’t have made it without your support.”
“You don’t get a medal for supporting your family.” His eyes returned to the rings on the bed. “Which one do you like?” A pause. “You can have all three if you want.”
I had to make a move. There would be plenty of time to throw it back in his face in the future. To hesitate now would be bad strategy, since he was the only one helping me with Sanjay. I was willing to do anything to get my boy back. I didn’t know if Chris would come through, but I did know that it was always better to have Chris on your side. I picked up the ring with the double diamonds. “This one.”
His smile was a thousand watts. “My favorite too.” He slipped it on my finger. “Got the size right.” He pocketed the other rings and then retrieved a plain, worn white-gold band and showed it to me. “I still have mine, even though yours is probably at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.”
He put the band on the ring finger of his left hand. “We’ll work out the details later.”
“Chris, I can’t see Juleen with this on my finger. I’m divorcing her father. I need to explain things to her, okay?” I took the ring off. “Keep it for me. I’ll put it on when we see your clients.”
“Fair enough.” He pocketed the ring and raised his thick blond-white eyebrows. “I know it won’t be conventional. Nothing with me is ever conventional. But I do want to reach an understanding that works for both of us.” He exhaled. “I want this to work, Terry. I need this to work. I can’t take you leaving again. I won’t survive.” A long pause. “Then I have your commitment?”
“Yes, you have my commitment.” I answered without pause. Dr. Pragmatic. I’d sort things out later.
He nodded. “Then take as much time as you need to break it to your daughter.”
“Thank you. Can we …” I stopped myself.
“Yes, we can go now. You’re still wearing the earrings, by the way.”
“I know. I am never taking these off.”
He laughed. “I never figured you as a bling girl.”
“All women are bling girls. You just never offered me any. But don’t worry.” I kissed his mouth with my newly liberated tongue. “You have plenty of time to make up for it.”
THERE WAS ROASTED chicken with gravy, rice pilaf, ratatouille, a leafy green salad, and fresh-baked bread. The food as well as the dinner plates and utensils sat at the end of a wooden trestle table that accommodated twelve chairs—the dining set a relic from long ago when family and friends came for Sunday dinner. After everyone helped themselves, they returned to the front of the table and waited for the matriarch to pick up a fork and start eating. Ida Decker took her sweet time. No one was going to rush her. Finally, she attacked a piece of white meat chicken.
Randy Decker had put on a few pounds since Rina had known him. He was dark complexioned and about four inches shorter than Peter. They looked nothing alike. Why would they? Both Randy and Peter were adopted. Blossom—Randy’s fourth wife—was blond and buxom with a fully painted face. She had on leopard-print leggings, a gold lamé sweater, and gold sandals. She said, “It looks delicious, Ida.”
“I didn’t cook anything,” Ida answered. “When Rina’s here, she won’t let me near the kitchen. Like I have cooties or something.”
Rina got up and kissed Ida on the cheek, noticing that it was all the old lady could do to not wipe it off. “You don’t have cooties, and even if you did, I’m sure they’d be wonderful cooties. You should also inform Blossom that you baked all the pies, including chocolate pecan, which you told me was Blossom’s favorite.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet.” Blossom gave a heave of her chest. “Thank you, Ida.”
“You’re welcome.”
Blossom was the favored daughter-in-law. She was the only one in the family who went to church with Ida. Her status didn’t amount to much, though, because Ida was still as tough on her as the rest of them. To Rina, she said, “Did you have a nice trip?”
“It was lovely, thank you.”
Blossom said, “I’ve always wanted to visit the Holy Land.”
“Since when?” Ida piped up.
“Well, Rina makes it sound so erotic.”
“Exotic,” Ida corrected her.
“Yes, of course.” She pinkened. “Oops.”
Rina smiled. “It’s a great place. When Peter finishes with our place, we’d love to host you.”
