Chapter 40

Bowman waited while Annie showered. He yawned and rubbed his eyes with his palms.

She came into the room and caught his eye. She stuck out her tongue with a smile as she passed a little too close to him. She smelled of soap. He slapped her lightly on the rump and grabbed a pile of his clothes in his large hand and moved to take his turn in the shower.

He returned wiping the vestiges of shaving lather from his face and ears with a towel. He stood and admired Annie as she brushed her hair in long strokes with her head turned to an angle.

"What are we goin' to do today?" she asked, still brushing her hair.

"I thought maybe you could show me the sights of Baltimore."

"How in the hell would I know. I haven't been anywhere but here and the hospital since I've been in this town. All I've done is cram and sleep."

Trying to hide his disappointment, Bowman offered, "Listen, if you need to study, I can entertain myself."

She rose and moved to him and hugged him. "No, that's over now. I'm goin' through supervised application now. I just meant that I don't know what the sights are anymore than you do. Let's go to the lobby and grab a bunch of brochures."

Life was more exciting with Annie beside him -- nudging him, holding his arm, laughing at his quips. He enjoyed her attention and took pleasure in watching passing men admiring her in stolen glances. It was Saturday, she was all his, he was all hers and Baltimore was all theirs. Together they toured the National Aquarium, the zoo, Fort McHenry and Edgar Allan Poe's house. Dusk found them walking along the cobblestone streets near the inner harbor. He saw a neon sign down the street advertising Padrone's Ristorante. Only then did he realize they had gone all day without stopping to eat. He stopped and grasped her hand resting on his inner elbow and asked: " Do you realize we haven't eaten all day?"

She followed his eyes to the sign. "Of course, I did. I just figured you were too chincy to spend any money on me."

"What?" he said as he looked down into her eyes, his face grimaced.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Chill out big guy, I was just kiddin'. Eatin' never crossed my mind. I can't think of food and you at the same time."

"Well, quit thinkin' about me, but only for a minute. Is Italian okay with you?"

She moved closer to him and brought her breast against his elbow. "Let's check it out, I'm starvin' all of a sudden."

They walked toward the sign and peered in the window. The brick walls were painted white and covered with pictures of mostly groups of people. Four place tables covered in white and red tablecloths were in rows. Customers were absent.

"We may want to reconsider," he said. "It doesn't look like they have much business."

"Don't be silly. It's probably just too early for normal people to eat dinner. We're here, let's go for it."

They entered the door and waited to be noticed. A smiling maitre'd bounded from the kitchen through a swinging door. The aroma of tomatoes cooking with garlic and oregano moved ahead of him. He held up two fingers and Bowman nodded.

They studied the menus. "What are you goin' to order?" she asked.

"That Chicken Marsala looks good to me, but I've got a taste for Chianti. Would the waiter's raised eyebrows bother you?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I don't even think those rules apply anymore. What the hell do we care, anyway. Tell you what, I'll order the Veal Parmigiana. That'll cover you."

"I thought about ordering the Veal Marsala, but I got a picture of calves crowded in dark facilities being force fed with milk and I decided against it."

He looked up from the menu, holding it to his nose to hide his grin, but the tears welling in his eyes gave him away.

"Thanks a lot, asshole. She shook her head. Order me Chicken Parmigiana and Chianti." She flashed an exaggerated forced smile, then dropped the menu on the table, picked up her purse and walked away toward the restrooms.

The day of fasting was evident. They ate without banter. She declined his offer of more wine.

"I guess I'll just have to finish it off by myself," he responded. "Mama's admonitions about cleaning my plate and starvin' children in China is imprinted in my brain."

She rested her back on the chair. "Chinese children don't drink Chianti."

He topped off his glass. "Good for them. Goes to show I've been doin' my part." She smiled at him and pursed her lips.

Returning to the room, overfilled with food and wine, Bowman stretched out on the bed, fully clothed.

Annie turned on the radio, selected a station, and joined him. They snuggled while enjoying the music. He turned on his side to kiss her. She brought her palm to his chest and cocked her head. They listened as a Spanish guitar played a slow, haunting melody. A woman's soft, sweet voice followed the guitar, singing initially in Spanish and then in English.

Mi corazon siente el calore de mi sancre cuando estas en mi mente.

Mi amor, solamente ti mi amor los passiones corren libres.

El savorâ te ti, creciedo en mi.

Moviendo y pensando como uno, vatajando comos dos.

Mido el mundo, yo solo, manuana preparado el tuele.

Siendo me secggo no quiendo mira.

Mi corazon siente el frio, yeno de laqremas.

Y nunca sientir tus labios o amor otrabes.

The blood runs warm in my heart when I can envision you.

My love, my one true love, our passions ran free.

The glowing from you, growing in me.

Moving and thinking as one, striving as two.

I face the world, now alone, future dashed and prepped for pain.

Trying to force myself blind, refusing to to see.

My being lies cold, wrenched in agony.

Never to know your sweet lips or love again.

She pulled him to her and kissed him with parted lips.

Lovemaking was easy and fluid on Sunday morning. They smiled as they left the hotel for a walk, but their mood steadily ebbed. Both avoided discussion of Bowman's departure plans. He realized what was happening and invited her to sit beside him on a park bench. He took her hands in his. "If you won't bring it up, I will. I'll be leaving in the morning. We can share a taxi to the hospital and I'll continue on from there."

Her face flushed and she said, "I don't want to talk about it." She rose. "I'll meet you back in the room." She walked away at a brisk pace, refusing to respond to his pleading calls.

He walked directly to the hotel and made his way to the room. She was nowhere to be seen, but the bathroom door was closed. Bowman crossed the room and seated himself next to the telephone. He decided to telephone Flint for an update on the investigation. No one answered at Flint's home. He called the station. Flint was not there, neither was Captain Aubrian. Bowman left his number and requested either of them to return his call.

It took only about fifteen minutes for the phone to ring. Arceneaux was on the line.

"Well, how is it going?" Bowman asked with all the cheerfulness he could muster.

"Not very well I'm afraid."

"You haven't been able to come up with much background yet?"

"Oh, that part has gone amazingly well. I've almost become a part of the team, thanks to the Captain, but Bowman, that's not the problem. I can't think of an easy way to tell you, so I'll just say it. Flint's dead.

Bowman grabbed the back of his neck. "He went up in the swamp after him, didn't he?" Bowman said more than asked, in resignation.

"Yes," Arceneaux responded. "It happened early yesterday morning, but the body wasn't found until early this morning. He became increasingly morose all last week at what he considered to be weak efforts by the St. Tammany Parish S.O. That really wasn't fair. They stepped up patrols in the area, but things weren't happening fast enough for Flint. The Captain talked with him and thought he made some headway, but obviously not.

"There will be a wake Monday night, and the funeral services are set for Tuesday morning. Will you be coming?"

"Yeah, I'll call you when I get there."

"Do you need me to pick you up at the airport?"

"No, my car's there. I'll call you at work."

"Okay, I'll take care of your room reservations."

Annie returned to the room as he was hanging up the phone. He saw the puffiness around her eyes and knew that she had been crying. He stood and held her close.

"John, I'm not ready for you to go."

"Annie, I'm not either, but after that call, I have no choice. Flint's been killed. He went in after the guy. His wake's tomorrow night and the funeral will be held the next day."

"She brought her hands to his face. "Will you come back here after the funeral?"

"No, you can better concentrate on your work without my demands on your time. Besides, there may be some way I can help to get this guy."

"You know, that's the one thing about you I don't like." She dropped her hands and moved away. "Why must you take on every problem as a personal challenge." She glared at him.

"Annie, I don't think that's true. This is different and you know it. Flint was a friend of mine and we were involved in this case together. How could I not be personally challenged?"

"I don't want you to go. I'll just drop out of the training now and we'll go back to Mobile together."

He moved over to her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her salty tasting lips lightly. "You know I can't go along with that. I'd have to go to New Orleans anyway. You only have a couple of more weeks, right?"

"Yes," she answered, looking down.

"Let's make a deal. You finish this thing and I'll meet your plane when it arrives in Mobile. Then we can settle in until you run me off."

"Will you call me every other night until then?"

"I won't make a promise to you I might not be able to keep. I have no way of knowing where I'll be or the circumstances. How about this? I'll call as often as I can, okay?"

She did not answer. He pulled her closer to him.