Whiskey Beach Part 49

They sat at the kitchen island, he in flannel pants and a sweatshirt, Abra in one of his grandmother's robes. Eating soup, hunks of bread, drinking wine, talking about movies she claimed he had to see or books they'd both read.

He told her about his find in the house's library. "It's interesting, definitely written by a woman with a male pseudonym."

"That sounds biased and a little snarky."

"Not meant that way," he claimed. "Writer's a word without gender. But this struck me as female, especially given the era it was written in. It's a little flowery, definitely romantic. I liked it, even if it should've been labeled fiction."

"I'd like to be the judge of that. Can I borrow it?"

"Sure. I thought, given the trench, I'd take a pa.s.s through the library here, read what we've got on the legend, the Calypso, on Nathanial Broome and my ancestor Violeta."

"Now that's a project I can get behind. I always meant to ask Hester if I could borrow some of the books, but never did. I tend toward fiction or self-help."

Since he considered her one of the most self-aware and contented women he'd ever met, he had to ask, "What help does your self need?"

"Depends on the day. But when I first moved here I still felt a little unsteady. I read a lot of books on finding balance, dealing with trauma."

He laid a hand over hers. "I don't want to bring back bad memories, but I want to ask how long he got."

"Twenty years. The prosecutor was pushing for rape, battery, attempted murder, and he would've faced life. So they pleaded it down to aggravated s.e.xual a.s.sault, adding in the knife, and held to the maximum. I didn't think he'd take it, but-"

"Factor in the stalking, the premeditation in breaking into your place, eyewitnesses in your neighbors. He was smart to take it. How are you about the twenty?"

"I'm good with it. Satisfied with it. When he comes up for parole, I intend to go in, speak to the board. I intend to take the photos of me after the a.s.sault. I like to think it's not vindictive, but-"

"It's not."

"I don't really care if it is, and I've made peace with my own needs on it. I do know I feel lighter with him in prison, and I'll do what I can to keep him there. Away from me, away from someone else he might focus on. So I found my balance, and every now and then I like a little boost, or something that opens me up to a different way of thinking."

With a smile, she spooned up more soup. "How's your balance, Eli?"

"Right now I feel like I could do handsprings across a tightrope."

She laughed into her wine. "s.e.x is the best invention."

"No argument here."

"Maybe you should write some s.e.x into your book, unless you think it's too female and flowery."

"I sense a challenge."

"Wouldn't you like your hero to find his balance in the end?" She leaned over, brushed her lips lightly to his. "I'd love to help you with your research."

"I'd be a fool to say no." Eyes on hers, he slid his hand up her thigh. "The kitchen floor still looks good."

"We should see how it feels."

As she angled toward him, the doorbell chimed.

"d.a.m.n it. Hold that thought."

He found Vinnie at the door, and realized he hadn't hit balance when the sight of a cop, even an old friend, still made his heart lurch.

"Hey, Vinnie."

"Eli. I had a call out this way, and was heading back in since my shift's up. I wanted to stop by to ... Oh, hi, Abs."

"Hi, Vinnie." She stepped up beside Eli. "Come in out of the cold."

"Oh, well ... bad timing. I can talk to you tomorrow, Eli."

"Come on in, Vinnie. We were just having some soup Abra made."

"Do you want a bowl?" she asked him.

"No. Thanks. No. Ah, I had a dinner break a couple hours ago, and ..."

"I've got Eli on twice-weekly ma.s.sages," Abra said easily. "And I'm making sure he eats, which is something he's been neglecting. And we're having s.e.x. That's a new development."

"Okay. Jesus, Abra. Man."

"Why don't you go in and sit down with Eli? I'll get you some coffee."

"I don't want to get in the way."

"Too late," Abra said as she walked off.

Eli just grinned after her. "She's amazing."

"Yeah, well. Look, Eli, I like you. At least I liked you back in the day, and I'm inclined to like you now. Just don't mess up with her."

"I'll be working hard not to. We might as well go in and sit down." He turned toward the parlor, stopped when Vinnie studied the ma.s.sage table. "She won't take no."

"Not on much." Vinnie hooked his thumbs in his uniform belt. "Anyway, Eli, I know Detectives Corbett and Wolfe came to see you."

"Yeah, we had an interesting chat earlier."

"Corbett's straight and smart-and thorough. I don't know Wolfe, but it's pretty clear he's got his teeth in this bone, and he's not giving it up."

"He's had his teeth in me for a year." Eli dropped down on the sofa. "I've got the scars."

"He's going to chomp them into Abra now, and into me."

"I'm sorry, Vinnie."

Vinnie shook his head, lowered to a chair. "I'm not looking for sorry. But I figured you should know he's going to do what he can to discredit Abra as your alibi, and take a swing at me as I play into it."

"He's a bully." Abra walked in with a mug of coffee. "A dangerous one, I think."