“My car’s right over there,” he said, pointing to his left.
“I live in Brooklyn Heights.”
“Great,” he said, standing with a distinctive knee pop. “It’s right on my way.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why do I doubt that?”
“Because you’re a suspicious woman. Come on. Let’s do this.”
She followed him to a somewhat new Ford Taurus that she would have immediately pegged as an unmarked police car. He held the door for her, and she wasn’t surprised to find the inside was impeccably clean.
Watching him as he came around, she wondered if he was just being nice, or if he had more on his mind than simply seeing her home.
He didn’t seem the kind of guy that would want more. Especially now that they’d established their working relationship. But then, maybe he didn’t see a problem with that. If she were honest with herself, she’d admit the idea had its merits.
How long had it been since she’d been this interested in a guy? It felt like forever, but it was actually about eight months. Jean-Jacques had been nice enough. Certainly his European charm had seduced her and his accent had made her giddy. But in the end, they were both too caught up in their work worlds to have anything meaningful.
“Brooklyn Heights,” Bax said as he settled in the car. He started it up and they drove slowly through the pack of photographers lying in wait. He said something low that she didn’t quite catch.
“What was that?”
“A subliminal message.”
She laughed. “You think it worked?”
“Nope. They’re still there.”
For a while, she just sat back and watched him drive. It was still rush hour, so traffic slogged. She didn’t mind. She liked the way he maneuvered the car, not shy, but not in a death match, either. It would take them a while to get to the Brooklyn Bridge and across. For once, she was glad she didn’t live closer to Midtown.
“Where do you live?” she asked, as they made the last turn before the bridge.
“Park Slope.”
“Oh.”
“I told you.”
“I’m not right on your way.”
“Close enough.”
“You live alone?”
He looked at her as if the question surprised him. “Yeah.”
“Not me. I have two roommates. Luckily, I don’t see them too often. One has a boyfriend and the other works nights. It’s not bad.”
“Roommates. I don’t think I could do that again.”
“You had a bad experience?”
“I’m not easy to live with.”
“Good to know.”
He looked at her again.
She could hardly believe she’d said that out loud. My word, wasn’t she the brave one. Which reminded her. “I heard something.”
“When?”
“In the locker room.”
“Okay. I assume it was about the murder.”
She told him everything she could about her conversation with Lorraine. He seemed quite dubious about the Geiger-Danny Austen connection. Not at all about Geiger’s wife.
“How reliable is this source of yours?”
“She’s not one to make stuff up, but she did say it was all second hand info. I think the rumor mill at Hush is on overdrive, but you might want to check into those room charges.”
He nodded as they inched their way across the bridge. “I’m not shocked about Sheila Geiger. I got the impression she wasn’t all that upset that her husband was dead, although damn, she put on a good show.”
“I wonder…”
“What?”
“What her rationalization is.”
“For what?”
“Her life. Her husband. No one does something they know is wrong. People rationalize the most horrible things. The paparazzi, they all believe they’re not doing anything wrong. They say the celebrities want their pictures taken. The public wants to buy those pictures. I guess I can’t argue with that.”
“Only?”
“It feels so wrong to me. I’ve seen them at their worst, like a pack of wolves. There’s no mercy, no quarter given. Everyone and everything is fair game.”
“What do you think is behind her suing the hotel?” he asked.
“She’s thinking about her bank account. With hubby gone and unable to take those money-making pictures, a gal has to do what a gal has to do.”
“And a job is out of the question.”
“I think in her mind, yes,” she said. “It is.”
He sighed. “Boulder sounds better every day.”
“I’ve never been to Colorado. I hear it’s just gorgeous.”
“Yep. Green everywhere you look. Great skiing. The English department is top notch. It’s quiet. A man can think. See the stars.”
“Big change.”
“Welcome change.”
“I would imagine so. All that death. All those rationalizations.”
He reached over with his right hand and touched her left. He didn’t hold it or squeeze it. He just touched her. Then he was gone.
“Where to?”
She realized they were approaching the Brooklyn side of the bridge. They hadn’t talked all that much, but there had been pauses. Long ones. Now she was almost home.
“It’s a right on Henry Street, a left on Remsen.”
The traffic didn’t ease up until they were almost at her building. Should she ask him up? Would he assume?
Of course there was no parking space for miles around her old brick building. There never was. It didn’t seem to faze Bax. At her address he simply double parked, reached under the seat and got the bubble light that transformed the car from unmarked to quite distinct. And legal.
“I’ll walk you up.”
