31

“Sure. Come on, it’s not far to drive.”

“Is it safe?”

“Of course it is,” I said.

When we got to the marina at the yachting club, they’d already preparedThe Mariefor me. When I’d bought this place, I’d bought a small schooner too, and I was fond of sailing. I’d done it on a school-trip once as a kid, and enjoying learning to tie the knots and fly the sails was about the only thing I’d really learned at school.

The boat had a light blue hull, and a sanded deck. We parked by the marina and stepped onto the jetty, and before long, I’d found her. I put a hand on the wood and felt the rough, sandy texture.

“Pretty, huh?” I said.

“It’s enormous!” said Linda.

“Well, you’d be surprised how much boat you need to feel comfortable.”

I leaped up on board, and offered my hand to Linda. With one swift motion, I hoisted her into the hull. I took off the gangplank and undid the mooring, before letting down a few sails and heading to the wheel. It took a bit of knowledge to keep the craft heading in the right direction, and I was pretty rusty. But soon we were sailing out onto the Lake, with the sun slowly rising up to the center of the sky.

Sailing was fun, but it was hard work too, exhausting me. I hardly had time to talk to Linda. So when I’d brought us out to the shimmering center of the water, I began to slow the boat down, turning it into the wind and feeling the sails’ resistance.

“This is amazing,” said Linda, stretching her arms out in the center of the boat. “Feels strange out here, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding as I leaned on the wheel of the ship, lasciviously watching her. My eyes stayed fixed on the slender flesh on her arms, her skin slowly bronzing in the sun, while I furled the sails in.

“Feels like I’m alone out here with you, in the middle of nowhere.”

“Well, you are,” I grinned.

“Not like that.” Linda sat up and looked at me over the brow of her sunglasses. “I mean that it feels as though New York doesn’t exist.”

“For me, it doesn’t anymore,” I said, staring at the water which stretched in all directions. Hills and green forest rose up above the shore. “I mean, my life in New York is over.”

“Over?” said Linda. Her face was concerned.

“WithoutThe Blue Orchid, I have nothing to keep me there.”

“What about all your other clubs? And your apartment, and your helicopter?”

I expelled a breath of air, and stepped closer to her, sitting down. “I suppose,” I said, “they’re not as important to me anymore.”

“Well, money and material things should never be important to you,” said Linda.

“If not them, what is?” I said.

“People,” she replied.

“Well,” I said, reaching towards the champagne bucket and removing the bottle. “Let’s drink to people.”

***

There weren’t many places to eat in town, and I was worried someone at the yachting club might recognize me. So after we’d come back, we walked into town, and stopped at a humble, ordinary, everyday diner.

“Coffee?” said a waitress, walking by our table.

“Yes please,” I said.

“Sure,” said Linda.

She filled our cups and walked away, eyeing us curiously. We looked a funny pair, Linda dressed up in my shirt, which was enormous on her, and a cute pair of jeans. We both wore a pair of sunglasses, just to make sure no one was going to recognize us.

“I haven’t been to one of these in about fifteen years,” I said.

“Don’t worry,” she said, winking. “They’re still just the same.”

“Do you like them?” I said. “There was one in Philly I used to go to with my mom now and then. I used to have corned beef sandwiches and a milkshake, every time.”

“Was it nice?”

“No!”

Linda laughed. “Getting taken to the diner was a big treat back home.”

“Where do you take Macy when you’re not at work?” I said.

I saw Linda shift a little uncomfortably in her seat. “Why do you want to know?” she said, a little defensively.

“I’m just interested in what you do with a kid,” I said. “Been a while since I was one myself.”

“Well, Macy’s good at school, and I like to take her to museums and read to her a lot,” said Linda. “And if she’s been real good, I’ll take her out for burgers and ice-cream every once in a while.”

“She got many friends?” I said.

“Oh, sure. You know she and Sara’s kid Raul are best friends?”

“That’s nice.”

We chatted away like that for a little while. Out here, without the pressures of my work, the pressures of the case against me, I felt able to relax, and suddenly all the empty spaces in my mind wanted to be filled with Linda. Out here, we could have the closeness I’d longed for.

We were casually chatting away when all of a sudden, I looked up and saw an old guy at the other end of the diner. He was in a booth on his own. I guess he was only a little shorter than me, but he seemed small, lean and wiry. He had rough skin and a pair of blue eyes. Where had I seen those blue eyes before, brilliant and intense? And where had I seen his scraggly beard and gray hair?

“Strange,” I muttered.

“Hm?” said Linda.

I whispered to her in a low voice.

“Six o’clock. Gray beard, blue eyes. Wearing a baseball cap. I think I know him?”

Linda turned around.

“I’ve seen him before.”

“Where?”

“The Blue Orchid,” I said.

“What? Eating?”

“No. He was outside. He said his son used to work there.”

“No,” I said. “I would have known. He would have—”

“What?” said Linda.

“I’ve seen him too,” I said.

Only for a second. I remembered it: the day I’d gone out for a walk around the block. I’d brushed him off in the street. What had he said? It’s me.

Like I knew him from somewhere else.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get back to the house.”

Linda

When we got back to the lake house, it was still and quiet, a warm afternoon. I’d hoped Axel would take me out on the boat again once we got back, but we’d both been spooked by the appearance of the old man.

“You want to talk?” said Axel.

“Not really,” I said. There was so much on my mind that I didn’t feel like talking, so I went upstairs and showered. I was so spooked that I jumped at my own reflection in the mirror when I got out.

Who could the man have been?

A spy? A guy working for Luca? Luca was a flashy guy, who wore expensive suits and shiny watches and ordered the most expensive thing on the menu (even though he rarely paid for it). I couldn’t imagine the sallow, roughly-dressed man staring at us in the diner on Luca’s payroll.

While I trusted Axel or wanted to trust him, all kinds of fears began to swirl around my stomach since I’d seen the stranger. Axel had promised I’d be safe when we went out for the day. But how could he keep that promise? Hadn’t the boat ride, having lunch with me, just been his way of taking his mind off everything that was going on?

In the end, I was so tightly wounded that I decided to take a nap. I couldn’t believe I was able to sleep at a time like this. But, stressed out and exhausted from the crazy few weeks I’d just had, I fell asleep all the same, and woke later in the evening.

I got up and went downstairs. It was quiet in the house. It had incredible soundproofing, and I couldn’t hear Axel walking through the corridors. I’d been woken a little by him leaving that morning, but now I couldn’t tell where he was. He might have gone and left me again. I’d have a thing or two to say to him if he had…

But on the stairs, I stopped. I heard something.

Music.

Not just any music. I’d know that tune anywhere. It was an old jazz standard, Stella by Starlight, and I hummed along a little, as I gently jogged down to the living room. It was coming gently from a stereo in the kitchen. I stepped forward, and then the smell hit me.

It was wonderful. I could smell a rich, deep tomato sauce, full of garlic and basil.

I poked my head through the kitchen door.

Axel was cooking.

I’d never seen him do that, something I regarded mostly as a chore. I’d always wanted Macy to have home-cooked meals, but I was no Delia in the kitchen, and meticulously folLindend recipes. Axel was stirring the sauce while a pot of spaghetti boiled merrily away on the side.

“That smells incredible,” I said.

He turned and looked at me, and I saw his eyes widen a little. I could tell he was pleased by the compliment, even if he didn’t smile.

“Thank you,” he said. “It’s Gabriel’s recipe. I made him give it to me.”

“You do a lot of cooking at home?” I said.

“When I am at home,” he said. “Sure.”

We sat down for dinner together, and Axel placed a bottle of wine he’d opened on the table next to us.

“Oh my God,” I said, as I took a mouthful of the delicious pasta. “This is incredible? How do you get the sauce so creamy?”

“Ah, well,” said Axel, drily. “I could tell you, but then you wouldn’t need me to make it for you, would you?”

“That’s silly,” I giggled. “Even if I knew how to make something as delicious as this—which I sure as hell don’t—I’d still be happy if I had you to make it for me.”

Axel looked at me curiously. “You know,” he said, “I hadn’t thought about it like that before. I guess I always think that there’s no point teaching someone how to do something. Then they won’t need you anymore.”

“Why don’t you look at it like this,” I said, leaning forward and looking into his blue eyes. In just a matter of days, I’d gone from hardly being able to look at Axel to wanting to seduce and charm him. “How much more will I think of you if you can teach me a new skill?”

“I guess you’re right,” he said, while his blue eyes swam over my body, drinking me in.

That evening, I dove into him again, wanting to be distracted from the fears in my heart, needing to feel his heat on my body once again. In the upstairs bedroom, Axel Lindenred me on the bed, and lifted my bare legs. They rested on his strong thighs while he felt them, his hands squeezing and caressing my flesh with a gentleness I hadn’t known before. I was sorely in need of him, and as he bent and his lips ran up my thighs, I heard my own sighs blossoming in my throat, and my back arched up. I took his hands in mine—holding his hands felt sweet and innocent—and I felt the pleasure surging as I passed them up under my shirt, and they gently gripped my breasts.

In the heat of the early evening, I could feel myself preparing for him, as he passed a hand under my shirt while his other undid the buttons. I felt like he was smoothing out all the cracks in me. I could smell by the way his cologne blossomed that Axel was growing hot for me, and when he finally tipped me over onto the bed and let his tongue press against my clitoris, I shivered with passion.

Gently, he worked at me again, playfully tussling with me as I rolled this way and that, working against him now and then just to feel the ease with which he pulled me back. He made me feel at home in my own body, letting me push and pull against him. His tongue drew in deep, pressured circles over my clit.