Culture Shock Part 3

The sun was setting when they got back to the Cairns. Alex held the door open. "Here we are, back to reality."

Cynthia stepped inside, but paused at the bottom of the stairwell. "Does reality have to smell so musty? I'd prefer something more pleasant."

He smiled. "I agree, but the reality I referred to is we both have to work tomorrow, and that sucks. I wish I'd been born rich instead of handsome." He flashed a wink.

Did he know how attractive he was? His good looks had drawn the admiring stares of so many women during their outing...and they all envied her, little ol' Cynthia Freitas.

He followed as she climbed the stairs. She paused at the first landing and faced him. "Too bad we can't have everything we want, but I'd say today was a great ending to the weekend." She smiled. "Seriously, this was a great afternoon. I really enjoy looking in all the stores, although I can't believe I didn't find anything I wanted to buy. Maybe I should see a therapist."

He shook his head and grinned. "Maybe, but push on, my dear. We have another flight to climb, and dogs are barking."

At her apartment, Alex took her key and unlocked the door. "I had a great time too. If it wasn't Sunday evening we could have made our time together last a little longer. Maybe we can do this again another time?"

Her excitement bubbled to the surface. "That would be wonderful. Hey, as a matter of fact, my brother Kevin and his girlfriend, Sara, are coming to visit in a few weeks. They want me, of all people, to show them around the city. Would you be interested in joining us?"

She held her breath hoping he wouldn't decline. She'd like to show Kevin she did have some confidence in herself.

"I'd like that very much." He leaned down and brush his lips against hers.

Her heart skipped a beat then resumed its normal pace. She took a quick breath. "That was nice."

"Good. I was hoping I wouldn't offend you."

"No offense taken." And no defense either. Her knees turned to jelly. She opened her door, but paused, hoping for maybe yet another, and longer, kiss.

Instead, he took her hand and held her knuckles to his lips. "Goodnight," he whispered, warming her hand with his breath. He smiled and walked toward his apartment.

Cynthia went inside her place, closed the door and rested against it. She pondered the emotions Alex stirred within her. She feared falling for him, too afraid of what might happen if he didn't reciprocate the feelings. Could she handle rejection? She had no idea.

After making sure the door was locked, she went straight to the bedroom. Alex's reminder about the deadbolt flashed through her mind. She'd buy one tomorrow and ask him to install it. His offer of help provided more opportunity to be with him, and she'd take him over the super any day.

Lying in bed with hands folded behind his head, Alex stared into the darkness. Funny, he hadn't noticed how many blonde women lived in San Francisco. He'd seen a s.h.i.tload of them during the day with Cynthia. Sweet Cynthia. She was an unexpected find. And how sick was he? Even after the great time they had, he couldn't stop thinking about the d.a.m.ned case and the victims. What complicated things: Cynthia way too closely resembled the missing women.

Just thinking about her caused a stirring in his groin. Instead of giving her just a quick goodnight peck, he wished he had taken her into his arms and thoroughly savored her mouth. Tomorrow was Monday, and he wondered how he would manage to see her during the week, how he could steal another kiss. They obviously didn't leave for work or arrive home at the same time, so how could he casually run into her?

He planned to take things slow...not scare her away, but kissing her hand? How lame was that? Still, she acted as though she felt an attraction to him, but as proven by his last romantic liaison, he wasn't the best judge of women's feelings. Grumbling, he turned over and pulled the blanket up to cover his bare chest. "Go to sleep, Alex. You can worry about Cynthia tomorrow."

Alex stood in front of his locker and changed into his uniform, then checked his gear. He loaded ammunition into his nine millimeter, and fastened the gun in his holster. His thoughts constantly strayed to Cynthia. He couldn't get her off his mind.

"Hey, Alex!" His patrol partner, Mike, interrupted some pleasant thoughts. "I can't help but notice a smile on your face this morning. Usually, you're grumpy as h.e.l.l on Monday." He dropped his jeans and changed into his own uniform.

Alex finished adjusting his tie and turned. "So, grumpy am I? How come you never mentioned it before?"

"I just figured it was your normal Monday routine, but you shot that theory all to h.e.l.l. So, tell me...what's changed?"

Alex closed his locker and started toward the exit. "None of your d.a.m.n business!"

"Aha! A woman. I knew it!"

"You think you're so smart. What makes you think it's a chick?"

"What else could it be? You got laid didn't you?" He tagged after Alex through the rows of metal cabinets, yapping at his heels like an annoying dog.

Alex snorted. "I wish. It's been so long, I'm not sure I'd remember what to do."

Mike caught up with him at the door and grasped his shoulder. "That's something you never forget, partner. It's like a bicycle...you just get on and pedal as fast as you can."

The s.e.x talk made Alex uncomfortable only because it brought visions of Cynthia lying beneath him. He shook off the image. "It's no big deal. Besides, I think your time and attention would be better spent focusing on our a.s.signment. We've got to uncover something to lead us to the killer. C'mon, it's time to hit the road and catch the bad guys." He pushed through the door.

After roll call, Alex handed over a sheet of paper to Mike which had addresses they were supposed to check out. He hoped to avoid any further discussion of his personal life and concentrate on their job. His hope was short-lived, when Mike grabbed his arm just outside the meeting room.

"Wait a minute. You aren't going to get out of this so easy. What's her name and where did you meet her?"

Alex shrugged off his grasp, and continued outside to their patrol car. "What does it matter? You don*t know her."

"Come on, Alex. Spill." Mike followed on his heels, still yapping. "You've been celibate for almost two years ... or is it longer? I'm your partner. I need to know these things." He laughed.

Alex stopped with his hand on the door handle. "Okay, okay. She lives in my apartment building and her name isn't important. Are you satisfied?"

"You lied didn't you? You did it. Was she good?"

Alex opened the car door, but before he got in, he peered over the roof at Mike. "You're a pig. It's not like that. We've only seen each other a couple of times and she's a real lady. Just get in the car."

As the pa.s.senger, Mike pulled his seat belt forward and inserted the buckle into the latch. "Well, if you didn't get laid, and you're this happy, I don't know if I'll be able to stand you when you do."

Alex fought a smile and, leaving the Bayview Police headquarters, drove across Oakdale, in the direction where the latest victim had been found so he and Mike could go over the crime scene one more time in hopes of finding overlooked clues. The Crime Scene Investigation team made a thorough sweep of the area already, but the Chief wanted to make sure they missed nothing. The pressure from the public over this case weighed on everyone's shoulders. Alex wasn't one to leave things to chance so he was fine with a follow-up despite his partner's complaining.

Alex made a quick right turn into a narrow alleyway and stopped the cruiser directly in front of the yellow police tape that still marked the spot. They'd have to walk to where the victim's body had been discovered.

A sick feeling crept into the pit of Alex's stomach when he stood over the spot where the young woman's lifeless body had been dumped. The chalk outline on the asphalt served as a grim reminder that someone had lost a loved one. He knew what that felt like. His jaw tightened with the growing need to catch the son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h who obviously enjoyed torturing people.

He turned to his partner. "Let's canva.s.s the area one last time. You start at that end of the alley and I'll start at this end."

Mike sighed. "Alex, you know the area has already been gone over with a fine-toothed comb. What do you expect to find?"

"Look for anything that might have a bearing on the case. The perp's eventually going to screw up and leave something to lead us to him."

Mike stomped to the alley's opposite end. Head down, he took measured steps, but his low grumblings echoed off the brick walls.

"Any luck?" Alex called from halfway.

"No." Mike held up his hands. "But I don't know what in the h.e.l.l I'm supposed to find."

"I*m not finding anything either. I guess you're right. We may as well give it up, at least for now. We have the addresses of other nearby alleys. The perp seems to like them."

Back in the car, Alex started the engine. He glanced over at Mike. "Thank you for humoring me. At least I feel like we've really done our best."

Mike smiled. "No problem, partner. I might come across as a jerk when you ask me to do certain things, but your devotion is what I like about you. You always give a hundred-and-ten-percent." He read off the next address for Alex.

After the tenth alley, everything began to look the same. Trash littered the narrow s.p.a.ces, and boxes in which the dest.i.tute and drunk slept, lined the walls. Nothing out of the ordinary, and Alex wasn't sure that was good or bad. Searching through clutter minimized the chances of finding anything tied to the crimes.

As Alex pulled the sedan back onto a main street, he arched his back against the seat and sighed. "Shift's almost up. We may as well head back to the station. I'm beat."

The chatter on the police radio remained constant in the background: a robbery in the Mission district, a purse s.n.a.t.c.her on the wharf. The city never ran out of criminals, but right now, Alex focused on only one.

Mike semi-dozed, his head bobbing to the rhythm of the car's movement.

Alex's thoughts turned to Cynthia and the possibility of one day making love to her. He almost detected a trace of her perfume. What made her slip into his head and mess with his thoughts? Recalling Mike's earlier comments about his happy demeanor, Alex took his eyes off the road for a moment, glanced at his partner and slapped him on the knee.

Mike jerked upright in the seat, a surprised look on his face. "Wha..."

"Okay, you were right. I'll admit having a new woman in my life does have an effect on me. I'm so comfortable around her..."

He was just about to finish his sentence, when the car ahead blatantly ran through a red light. Although, he had been pulled off traffic patrol, Alex couldn't resist a good pursuit. Besides, he needed a break from thinking about that d.a.m.n serial killer.

He flipped on the siren and stomped on the gas pedal.

It was six o'clock when Cynthia finally returned home. She went into the bedroom, kicked off her high-heeled shoes and slipped her tired feet into comfortable mules. Her slippers scuffed against the threadbare carpeting as she made her way to the fridge. She pulled a can of air freshener from the adjacent cupboard and spritzed the air. The musty smell just never went away no matter how thoroughly she cleaned.

After pouring herself a gla.s.s of cranberry juice, she sat on the sofa, propped her feet on the coffee table and turned on the TV. While she flipped channels, a newscast caught her attention. She stopped for a moment and stared at the pictures of the four young women on the screen. The news anchor described Alex's very case. The similarity between the women sent a shiver through her. They resembled her enough to be her sisters...even worse, her!

She fled to another channel and engrossed herself in a Faith Hill song on Country Music Television. Resting her head against the back of the sofa, Cynthia closed her eyes and let the image of Alex's handsome face drift through her mind. She tried to imagine his strong arms around her, his lips pressed against hers. On impulse, she picked up the phone and started to dial his number, but quickly hung up. If she acted too desperate she'd scare him away. Best to wait and let him call her. As she wondered what he was doing at the moment, images of the four missing women slipped into her head again. She hadn't fully realized the danger of her situation until this very moment.

She had just finished the last drink of juice when someone knocked. Her jangled nerves locked a lump in her throat. The killer wouldn't rap on a victim's door would he? Rising, she set the empty gla.s.s in the sink then opened the door only as far the wimpy security chain allowed. She breathed a sigh. "Alex! Hi!" She unfastened the chain and fully opened the door. "Come in."

"I just got home ... actually I haven't even been home yet." He almost stammered. "I just wanted to stop by and see if you'd like to grab a bite to eat."

"Sure! I'd love to." She didn't hesitate a moment, but glanced at her well-worn slippers. "I don't suppose you want me to wear these though."

Alex eyed her feet. "I don't know. Are they the style right now?" His boyish grin dimpled his cheeks. "With women's shoes, you never know. They don't look any worse than some of the boots I've seen on women recently."

"What's wrong with boots?"

"I'm of the opinion that only military women should wear combat boots...and only because they have to."

Cynthia chuckled. "Oh, you dislike the clunky ones. I get it. I promise not to wear my combat boots tonight, but let me put on some shoes and powder my nose. Have a seat."

She shuffled into the bedroom.

Cynthia had enjoyed the evening, his personality, dinner; everything had been perfect. Her biggest ch.o.r.e now was keeping her expectations in perspective. She hoped to spend more time with him, but what if he viewed their date in a different light?

Alex held her hand and pulled her up the stairs. "C'mon. Move faster. Work off some of that dinner."

"Are you insinuating I'm fat?" She made a pouty face.

"Well, now that you mention it, I did notice a little extra weight on your left earlobe. But, then I like a girl with some meat on her bones." He gave her ear a tug.

At Cynthia's door, she pulled her hand from his and searched her purse for her keys. "I know they're in here somewhere," she said as she dug through the contents. "Do you want to come in for a cup of coffee?"

Alex glanced at his watch. "What the heck. It's only nine-thirty, but can we make it decaf?"

With the door unlocked, she, reached inside, and flipped on the light switch. The overhead fixture flickered a few times before the bulb came to life. "Ah, Shangri-la," she said, dropping her purse on the coffee table. She walked to the counter to start the coffee. "Sit down and get comfortable."

Alex closed the door and walked to the couch. He started to sit, but caught himself. "Uh uh! I'm not being swallowed up again." He laughed and moved to the other end. "By the way, where's that new deadbolt you were going to buy?"

She glanced over her shoulder and flashed a pout at him. "Sorry, I*m a flake. I totally forgot."

"I figured you would, so I got one for you. I'll switch them out tomorrow night if that's okay."

"That's so sweet of you. I'd really appreciate the help, but only at your convenience."

Cynthia poured water into the coffee pot then turned the brewer on. The overhead light flickered in threat, but continued to shine. She crossed to the end table and turned on the rustic-looking lamp, then switched off the ceiling fixture. "No use risking another blackout, besides I look better in muted light anyhow." She wanted to swallow her last statement because she'd shown that insecure side her brother hated.

Alex raised a brow. "Why do you say unkind things about yourself?"

"Habit, I guess. Even my brother tells me I'm too critical." She sat beside Alex while the coffee brewed.

Soon the fresh aroma overpowered the woodsy fragrance of his delightful cologne. Cynthia yearned to bury her nose against his neck and lose herself in his wonderful scent. If only she could be so bold. She could think of things much more delicious than coffee.

As if he read her mind, he slid his arm along the back of the sofa. She glanced up into his gorgeous eyes and wondered about his next move. Despite the air of comfort around them, her desire set her nerves on edge.

Alex lounged against the sofa back and put his feet up on the coffee table. "Dinner was good, huh?"

Cynthia released a pent up breath. "Delicious. I'm stuffed again. You tend to overfeed me. No wonder I've put on weight in my ear lobe." She giggled but leaned into his side and inhaled, turned on by his smell.

Alex stifled her levity by bending and kissing her. Cynthia closed her eyes as the warmth of his mouth pressed firmly against hers. Her stiffness relaxed as his tongue flicked her lips, willing them to part...and she complied. His tongue lapped at her bottom teeth and elicited a throaty moan from her. Her wanton display of emotion shocked her, but her body controlled her mind now.

Her heart raced as he gathered her in his arms and deepened his kiss. She willed herself to remain relaxed and enjoy the very thing she'd dreamed about, then arched her body forward when his lips moved from her mouth and trailed down her neck to the hollow just above her collarbone.

He paused, raised his head and gazed into her eyes. Was he seeking her approval? She should stop him, but she didn't.

Cradling the back of his head, she pulled him closer. "Kiss me, Alex," she whispered.

He willingly obeyed her command and plundered her mouth with pa.s.sion that curled her toes. Her sense of reason told her things were moving too fast, but her body wouldn't listen. With mouths still locked together, he slid from the couch to the floor, pulling her with him. Her body, reacting like melting wax, followed him to the carpet. Once again, he stopped for a moment and searched her eyes.

She caressed his cheek. Her trust in him overrode any fear she had, but for the life of her she didn't know why.

Alex began nibbling at her neck. Stretching out beside her, his lips blazed a path to the v-neck of her blouse. One hand boldly moved along the sides of her waist, then down to cup her b.u.t.tocks. He pulled her against the length of his long, muscular body, while his other hand fumbled with the b.u.t.tons on her blouse.