Now that it seemed like I had Lee, would I drive him away with my thrashing around in bed (although he seemed to have conquered that obstacle pretty quickly)? Then there were my crazy escapades with Ally (although he’d had a lifetime of that and always seemed to find it amusing). Of course there was also my somewhat crazy and uncontrollable bent towards doing stupid shit all the time (although he was showing alarming dexterity at cleaning up the messes I made). And, of course, my hell-bent independence and need for space (although he’d also managed to get by that by forcing me out of my space and into his, and his space was rather nice, with a great view and a housekeeper).
Yikes.
Finally, there was the scary part of Lee.
My Dad was a cop, the danger level to that job was a lot higher than most and I’d lived with it my whole life. I knew it and understood it, I didn’t like it but I was proud of him. He was one of the good guys that made the world safe. The world needed guys like Dad, Malcolm and Hank and the people in their lives had to give them space to do their jobs or we’d all be up shit creek.
Lee was… I didn’t know.
Death didn’t freak him out. He seemed to wander around comfortably both in the sunny real world that I inhabited and the slimy underworld that I hoped was temporary for me.
For Lee, bad guys had nicknames.
For Lee, driving twenty miles per hour over the speed limit, weaving in and out of crowded mid-day traffic on Speer Boulevard was like a Sunday drive.
Lee was offended at the thought that he’d botch a B and E. Lee oozed so much authority that crazy guys like Tex did what he ordered without comment. Lee was so dangerous that even Goon Gary and Creepy Terry Wilcox barely could hide their fear of him.
I dumped the cooked macaroni in the colander, rinsed it and left it to cool.
Then I went upstairs and slathered my body in factor 8 suntan oil that smelled deliciously coconuty. I dressed in my turquoise bikini that had the silver hoop between my boobs and the ones holding the material together at my h*ps and wrapped a sarong around my hips, tying it in a big knot at the front.
After doing this, I decided that I’d just have to wait and see what Lee had to say.
He told me he’d show me who he was, what he wanted and then I could make my decision. This did nothing to shift the joy or the fear, but it definitely mingled it with not a small amount of excitement.
It felt like Christmas Eve.
I was assembling my macaroni salad extravaganza when the back security door was thrown open and Rosie stepped into the kitchen.
He was carrying a gun.
And the gun was pointed at me.
I stared at him, wooden spoon in hand, dripping mayonnaise.
He looked like hell. Rosie had never been one to worry about personal hygiene overly-much, he groomed enough to make it not gross that he was serving coffee.
It was clear he’d slept a helluva lot less than I had and hadn’t had a shower since I last saw him.
“Rosie!” I cried. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over and worried sick.”
“Where are the diamonds?”
Uh, excuse me but this was beginning to piss me off. Why did everyone think I had the diamonds or knew where they were? I hadn’t even seen the f**king things.
He moved the gun jerkily and I quit thinking about the diamonds.
“Where are the diamonds?” he shouted.
I stopped staring at Rosie and started staring at the gun.
“I don’t know where they are.”
“Duke’s gone, they aren’t at his house.”
My eyes moved back to Rosie. He was definitely freaked out, panicked, and not in an artist-on-the-verge kind of way. It was far worse than that.
“You didn’t toss Duke’s house did you?” I asked.