We were on the Jewish Aunt, with our feet propped up on the coffee table. Between my nerves and the caffeine, there was little chance I'd slow down before New Year's Eve. Malone even listened to my theory on how Kleinschmidt and Melissa had staged the assault.
"After the shooting, Melissa drove the pickup truck to the junkyard. She probably took a hunk of hamburger and filled it with sleeping pills or tranquilizers that you could get at a drug store. I'd guess three pills would be enough to knock out Brutus. He makes a load of noise, but he'll take food from strangers."
"You know that for a fact?" Malone asked softly.
"I fed him a piece of steak one night.”
Malone rewarded me with a brief version of my favorite smile. "Go on."
"Okay. She drugs the dog then uses a pair of bolt cutters to get into the yard. The chain was cut recently and Joe had to replace it. She hides the truck way in the back, then walks out and closes the gate. There's a trail that leads back into the trees by the yard. I found tire tracks in there, which would probably match her motorcycle if the snow and frost haven't ruined them."
"I wouldn't count on those being any good now. So she and Kleinschmidt planned the whole thing." Malone shifted his weight and slid his arm around me. He pulled me close, then a little closer still. I didn’t want to ever leave his arms.
"Melissa's a decent shot. She plugs him in the wing and disappears. Kleinschmidt tried to get through to her that night, when we stopped for dinner, but she was already gone. He knew she was inside the truck, which explains why he approached it so openly. Kleinschmidt was probably going to tell her they'd better wait, until he didn't have a witness riding with him. Instead she shot him before he could warn her."
Malone picked it up from there. "Kleinschmidt figured to draw his full pay until his wound healed. But when the complications set in, it was as if they’d won the lottery. If his injury ended his career, he'd draw two thirds of his pay, tax free, for life. That is a whole lot more money than he would have gotten from the governor’s budget cut. Chances are if they had pursued a lawsuit, the state might have settled out of court if they thought Kleinschmidt had a case. It's anyone's guess as to how much they could have gotten away with. That’s pretty devious."
"But why break in and threaten me?"
"Melissa knew how to handle the computer and she wanted to learn what you had seen at the shooting. If you weren't close to the truth, they'd forget about you. According to Kleinschmidt, Melissa was the one who insisted they pressure you."
I huffed out my cheeks. "The more they shoved, the madder I got."
"Never argue with a stubborn redhead." Malone held me tight and rested his chin on the top of my head.
"Some people never learn."
"Got to give you credit, Jay. You figured out the entire scheme and even came up with a way to prove it."
"Just call me Ace Richmond, Private Eye."
He started to slide down, to recline on the cushions with me in his arms. But I pulled away. There were some things I had to ask. "What about you, Malone? You met her at the ski lodge that weekend, didn't you?"
He made no attempt to move. "It was a coincidence. She saw me on the slopes during the last run and waited for me to finish up. Melissa pumped me for information about your research, but I couldn't tell her anything. She did ask me to keep you away from Kleinschmidt, and I promised to try."
"That's it?" I dreaded his answer.
"Yeah, that's it. What else could there be?"
I pulled in a deep breath. "What about the gravel pit. Did you push me, Malone?"
His face paled and those cobalt eyes grew wide. "You're crazy, Jay. The edge gave away beneath you."
"And what about the tub?" It hurt to ask, but I had to know.
Malone got up from the aunt. For a long minute, I thought I'd blown it again. He was going to pack up his clothes, his spare razor and the neon green toothbrush. Then he’d be gone. Instead he went into the kitchen and came back with a sharp carving knife.
"Jesus, Malone, put that down!"
"It's the only way, Jay. I'm sorry it came to this." He stood in front of the aunt and plunked the knife on the coffee table, the handle close to me. Then he pulled out his off-duty weapon and laid it alongside the knife.
“Malone, what the hell are you doing?”
He knelt on the opposite side of the table and extended his arms out, so he looked like an airplane about to take off. With an inclination of his head, he gestured toward the two weapons.
“Take your pick, Jay, knife or gun. If you really believe that I would do anything to hurt you. There’s no way I could harm you.”
“You’re scaring me, Malone.”
“C’mon, Jay. Think about it. You’re a klutz. When you get preoccupied, you trip over your own shoes. You get dizzy turning a corner when you walk down a hall. We were having a great weekend up north. You moved too close to the edge. The snow gave way and down you went. I was nowhere near you. I was checking the snowmobiles to make sure they were secure. It was an accident, plain and simple. That’s all it was.”
My eyes kept flitting from the weapons to his face. He showed no sign of fear. If I really thought he had tried to hurt me, I could even the score in a flash. Either Malone was extremely trusting, or seriously nuts.
“I could never hurt you, Jamie, never."
"I love you, Malone. Honest to God, I do."
He picked up the gun. In a flash, the weapon was back in its holster. Then he reached down and pulled me off the sofa. “Okay.”
"Okay? You scare the shit out of me and all you can say is okay!"
"Hush, Jamie.
"Here I am, thinking you were trying to kill me. Please don’t hate me."
"Hush." He kissed me, gently finding my mouth with his. "I could never hate you, Jamie. I love you."
"That was a pretty drastic way to prove your point, Malone."
"Drastic circumstances call for drastic actions." He kissed me again and slid his lips around to my throat.
"Malone…"
"Hmm."
I grabbed his head and pushed it back so I could see his eyes. "You're making me drastic."
The low wattage smile was back. "Yes ma'am."
* * * *
Late the following afternoon Bert called. He invited himself over to the apartment and I didn’t object. Malone was gone to work his regular shift. He had helped me clean up the mess from the shattered monitor and we had used three cans of cleaner trying to get the blood out of the carpet. I had a feeling the landlord would replace it when I moved out. At least there wasn’t the chalk outline of a body to deal with too.
When Bert came in he greeted me with a bear hug and didn’t immediately let me go. I realized again how much I missed those parental embraces. I couldn’t remember the last time Bert had been to the apartment. That was a shame. I promised myself right then to invite him over often when I moved into the house.
“How are you, Jamie?”
“Better. Some sleep helped.”
Bert eyed the sofa suspiciously and opted for the rocker. I perched on the edge of the table. He turned down offers of coffee and tea.
“Do you remember when we talked about finding a balance?”
I nodded. “Sure. I think you said something about letting someone into my heart.”
“Yes, I did. But I didn’t mean that person should be a cop.”
A smile crossed my face and I realized I was blushing. I also noticed how uncomfortable Bert was. I had never witnessed him being uncomfortable before.
“Why, Captain Nowalski. Are you insinuating that I let the circumstances of the Kleinschmidt shooting sway my judgment?”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he said with a scowl.
“As a matter of fact, yes, I am.”
“You couldn’t find somebody else? Like an accountant or a baker or maybe a dermatologist? You had to get involved with a cop?”
With a laugh, I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “A dermatologist?”
He shrugged and shook his head. “Hey, it’s what came to mind. I would think after spending most of your formative years with me as a stepfather, you’d steer clear of cops, just in general principle.”
Scooting closer, I took both of his hands in mine. “Bert, you are the greatest guy I have ever known. On the outside, you’re this tough grizzly bear. But on the inside, you are a kind, generous, caring man. If Vera weren’t so crazy, she would have recognized what she had in you and would still be married to you. I am very fortunate to have you for my father."
“Stepfather,” he said, making the correction.
I slowly shook my head. “Father. You’re the one, Bert. No matter who Vera has married before or since. You’re the father in my life. And you always have been.”
He squeezed my hands and his head nodded ever so slightly. “Thank you.”
“So, are you okay with me seeing Malone?”
Bert chuckled and climbed out of the rocker. “Malone’s a good man, Jamie. I just wonder if he has any idea what kind of a woman he’s getting involved with.”
“I think he’s finding out.”
* * * *
Christmas Eve and Malone was scheduled to work a sixteen-hour shift. Some of the guys traded duty, to fit in with their family plans. Malone worked from noon until four the next morning. We would spend Christmas Day together, and he would go back on duty the following afternoon. It was tough, but I managed to wait for him to come home. He slipped into the apartment quietly and almost walked past me. I was curled up on the Jewish Aunt, only my nose visible.
"Hey, Roland," I whispered.
He jumped. "Hey, Jamie."
Malone slid beside me and covered my face with kisses. After a while he sat up and started to unzip his jacket.
"Keep it on." I struggled out of the aunt.
"Why?"
"Because we're leaving, that's why."
"Where are we going?" His eyes were barely visible in the dim light from the window.
"It's a surprise. Trust me?"
There was a moment’s hesitation. “Mostly.”
Can you believe it? The guy was using my own line on me again. "Then shut up and follow me."
"There’s nothing quite like a demanding woman."
In the car I handed him a blindfold and wouldn't start the motor until he'd slipped it on. After a little grumbling, he did as I asked.
"Kidnapping is against the law."
"You're too old to be a kid, Roland. I’ll let you take the blindfold off soon, if you’re good."
He sat there patiently while I drove to the house. It was only a few miles away and traffic was nonexistent. A light dusting of snow had fallen earlier, making everything sparkle. I parked by the curb and helped him from the car. He held my arm gingerly and followed me up the walk and the two short steps to the front entrance. Inside I made him stand by the door and wait. Only after I lit the fire in the hearth and turned a couple of switches on did I let him take the blindfold off.
"What's going on?" Malone blinked as his eyes swept the room.
"Welcome home, Roland." I patted the sleeping bag beside me. I was sprawled on top of another one, clutching my long, wool winter coat around me. A queen-sized air mattress was beneath them, giving the nest a bed-like quality.
"Home?"
"It's my new place. I rented it last week."
"Home?"
"Room for two, Malone, if you're interested."
He stood there by the door, staring. I couldn't read his reaction from here and started getting nervous.
"Aren't you going to come in?" I pleaded. "Take the chill off, get cozy."
In front of the picture window was our tree, five feet of Blue Spruce, trimmed with little lights, ornaments and strings of popcorn. Outside I'd wrapped the railing in tinfoil and red ribbons. The fire was burning strongly, throwing heat toward the sleeping bag nest. Beneath the tree were a dozen packages for Malone. Each one bore a different name.
"I don't know what to say, Jay." He spoke so softly it hurt my ears.
"Don't say anything, Roland. Just haul your ass over here. "
He peeled off his jacket and came to me. I tried to convince myself I was trembling because of the cold but even I didn't believe it.
"Aren't you going to take your coat off? It's warm in here." Malone knelt beside me and took my face in his hands.
I shook my head. "You do it. First present on Christmas Day."
Malone laughed when he realized what I was wearing beneath the coat. There was just a black satin negligee and my little Santa Claus earrings. Tenderly he peeled off my coat and boots and helped me slide beneath the warmth of the sleeping bag. I'd zipped the two of them together so we'd have plenty of room. I was surprised at how quickly Malone could get out of his clothes. It must have been the proper motivation.
"Jay, about this house..."
"Hush. Let's not talk about it until after the holiday. I want this to be a happy time. A day filled with lots of smiles and love and warmth. Okay?"
He moved against me and my body automatically reacted with his. It was as if someone had thrown a secret switch.
"Wanna start with the love and warmth?"
* * * *
It was late morning when I woke up. The fire was still burning brightly, jolly yellow flames jumping across the wood. Malone must have rebuilt it when he got up. The stack of birch logs in the brass stand I'd bought last week was down by half. I found my robe and padded into the kitchen, expecting him there. The place was empty. Coffee had been brewed and there was a dirty skillet in the sink. I found a plate in the fridge with my half of breakfast. Malone was gone.
"You did it again, Jamie. You drove another good man away faster than the Black Plague. Maybe you could set a world record for the most disastrous romances." I was so stunned I didn’t realize I’d spoken the words out loud.
His presents were unopened beneath the tree. His clothes from last night were gone. I went into the shower as the tears began to fall. If they mixed with the spray, I could always claim I hadn't really cried. The house must have been too much for him. Words like freedom and independence and space flickered through my mind. At least he could have said good-bye. If nothing else, I deserved a good-bye.
I didn't get out until the water ran cold and my skin was beginning to wrinkle. All my plans for the day had revolved around Malone. I'd been hoping he would cook dinner. Cornish hens were in the fridge, along with the fixings for salads and dessert. I was going to try my luck at baking an apple pie. I dried off and went into the suite. Most of my clothes were hanging in the closet. Nothing appealed to me. I found the baggiest jeans I own, remnants from a time I was fifteen pounds heavier. A worn Miami Dolphins jersey topped it off. I didn't even bother drying my hair. I felt like screaming. So I did.
"Damn you, Malone! Why the hell couldn't you have stayed the night?"
"I had to take care of something."
I jumped when I heard his voice and ran down the hall to the living room. He was sitting with his back against the wall, watching the fire. Only now did I realize there was music on the stereo. I recognized the strains of “All I Want for Christmas is you.” How appropriate.
"Malone." I threw myself on top of him and kissed his mouth, his cheeks, his eyes, and his nose.
"Hey, Jay," he said softly.
I drew back and raked my wet hair out of my face. Then I hit him, as hard as I could, with a fist on the chest. "You son of a bitch. Don't you ever leave like that again! How could you..."
"Whoa. Take it easy." His arms squeezed me tightly against his chest, forcing away my anger. "Didn't you read my note?"
"What note?"
"That note." He jerked a thumb at the tree. Hanging from a string of lights was a square piece of paper. I pulled away from him and crawled over to it.
Back soon have to help Santa with his delivery.
"Oh shit." I felt like an idiot. The base of the tree was now filled with brightly wrapped packages I hadn't put there.
"I had all your presents in the back of the Jeep. You were still sleeping, so I took your car back to the apartment to pick them up." Malone stroked my hair behind my ears. Will my emotions ever stop being on a roller coaster?
"Oh shit."
"You said that, Jay."
"I'm sorry, Christopher."
"Merry Christmas, Jay." He pulled me back to the sleeping bag nest by the fire and tugged the baggies off my hips.
"Merry Christmas, Christopher."
If there is anything more special than making love on Christmas Day, I’ve yet to discover it. And right there, with the warmth of the fire, the soft music accented with the snap of logs burning, it didn’t matter if we were on a makeshift bed. It didn’t matter that my hair was wet, that I had no makeup on. It didn’t matter ten minutes ago I’d been in tears in the shower, doubting what Malone and I had. The only thing that mattered was that Malone was here with me now. Of all the presents he gave me that day, making love that morning was what I treasured the most.
Malone loved the house, especially the kitchen. He whipped up dinner after we'd shared a shower and opened our gifts. Mine all bore goofy tags as well: one for J.R., another for Jamie, one for Jay, even one to Ace Richmond, Private Eye. And the presents were proof that Malone paid attention. There was perfume, a sweater, two pairs of dangling earrings, some CDs, a couple of books, tickets to a play in Toronto and some lingerie that actually made me blush. And those were just the things I could remember.
While the hens were roasting, we took a walk around the neighborhood. Everyone had their decorations lit and the little bit of fresh snow made the scene look like a holiday postcard.
"You really like the house?"
“Absolutely, Jay. When are you moving in?"
"After the first of the year. I'll need to get a little more furniture, but nothing that won't wait until I'm settled in. One room is big enough for my office and the other will be a guest room. In case I ever have any overnight visitors."
"What about me?"
I shivered when he said that. "You can always sleep in my room."
"That's not what I meant. Were you serious last night about living together?"
I couldn't believe my ears, but couldn’t resist the urge to tease him. “Well, I don’t know. I mean, could I really live with a guy who doesn’t even have a first name?”
He stopped walking and pulled me around to face him. I was melting into those cobalt blue eyes when he leaned in to kiss me. I’ve never known anyone whose kisses tasted so good. Never before have I enjoyed how one kiss leads to another. I didn’t want Malone to ever stop kissing me.
I have no idea how long we stood there kissing. I do remember hearing car horns blaring as someone went down the street. But I can’t tell you about the car. Kissing Malone always makes my eyes go out of focus.
"I'm not trying to rush you, Jay. Just thought that since you've got so much space and all, maybe it would be a good time..."
"Yes, Christopher. I was hoping you would want to move in."
"You sure?"
"As sure as I ever get. Come live with me, Malone."
"Slow and easy?"
"One day, then the next. We’ll just walk together, go slowly and see where this leads. No strings."
He linked his arm through mine and turned me back toward the house. One thing still bothered me, but it wasn't really important.
"Are you ever going to tell me your first name, Malone?"
"What’s in a name, Jamie?”
I sighed. "Looks like I'll just have to keep guessing until I get it right."
He nodded. "It shouldn't be that hard for Ace Richmond, Private Eye."
We turned up the walk for the house. "I've cracked tougher cases."
THE END