Chapter 28
BOBBY, NANCY, AND Wayne hadn’t been gone for more than a few minutes when the telephone rang.
“Your guests got into a cab,” Matt said.
“Did you just drive up, or are you watching my house?”
“I’m not spying on you. I was on my way home, but then I suddenly found my car turning onto Seventy-second Street.”
“All by itself?”
“My subconscious is smarter than I am,” Matt said.
In man-speak, this was an apology for how he’d acted Wednesday night. “Would you like to come up for coffee?” I asked.
“No, thanks. I’ve had a long day and want to hit the sack, but will you come down for a few minutes?”
“Where are you?”
“Across the street. I’ll meet you at your entrance.”
On my way out, I stopped at the door to Walter’s room. I used to think of it as the den; how quickly it had become Walter’s room.
“I’m going downstairs to talk to Matt for a little while,” I said.
“Glad he came to his senses,” Walter said. “I reckon you’ll be safe, so I won’t wait up.”
Matt was standing at the arched entrance to the courtyard.
“Hi,” I said.
Without a word, he took my hand and led me a few yards west on Seventy-second. It was a dark night, but in the spill from a streetlight farther down the block, I saw the outline of his Crown Victoria, and recognized the communications aerial rising from the trunk.
To my surprise, it was the rear passenger door he opened instead of the front.
“Get in,” he said.
I did, and he followed me inside. No sooner had he closed the door than he took me into his arms and kissed me. My own arms went around his neck, welcoming the feel of his chest pressed against mine. We kissed until we were breathless, then gently pulled a few inches apart.
“I missed you,” he whispered. “I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since . . .” He paused.
I finished the sentence for him. “Since Boston.”
“Boston . . .” His voice was soft. “I never thought just hearing the name of a city would make me hot.”
I pulled a few inches farther away. “So it’s only sex?”
“What we had in that room wasn’t just sex, and you know it.”
I did, but I wasn’t going to admit it. Instead, I asked, “Have you changed your mind about that money I inherited?”
Matt inclined his head an inch or two. It wasn’t an acquiescing nod, but it was something nearby. “I still wish there wasn’t such a financial disparity between us,” he said, “but I’ve been thinking that maybe the thing to do is to keep it completely separate from us. Never talk about it.”
“You mean you want to pretend the money doesn’t exist? I can do that. It’s not as though I’ve ever brought it up.”
“No, you haven’t. I’m the one who made it a problem.”
“We could start over—forget about old issues.” I smiled at him mischievously. “I’m sure we can find new subjects to fight about.”
“You’d make a joke if somebody was tying you to a post in front of a firing squad.”
“I hope I never find out if that’s true.”
Matt leaned over to kiss me lightly on the tip of my nose, then sat up straight again. “Right now, with your best friend accused of murder, we can’t see each other, but when this situation is resolved—”
“When Nancy is cleared!”
“For your sake, I hope that’s what’s going to happen. What I’m trying to say is that when this situation is over, I want us to see each other.”
Man-speak again. “See each other? What kind of see each other?”
“Jeez, you’re difficult,” he said, but there was warmth in his voice. “I want us to see each other . . . seriously. How do you feel about that?”
“I like the idea.”
Matt took me in his arms again. Our lips met in the darkness.
After a few minutes, he said, “That’s about as much as I can stand without carrying you off to my cave.” He opened the door and helped me out of the car.
We held hands as he walked with me back to the Dakota’s entrance. “If G. G. and I find out anything that could help Nancy, I’ll let you know,” Matt said.
“Thank you.”
He squeezed my fingers lightly. “Stay out of trouble.”
We whispered our good nights, and I passed beneath the archway into the center courtyard. As I crossed the few yards to my section of the building, I ran the tip of my index finger lightly over my lips, recalling how sweet was the feeling of Matt’s mouth on mine.
I wondered if Matt would still want to see me “seriously” if he knew that at some point in the near future I was planning to slip away from New York for a couple of days, with a convincing cover story that would explain my absence.
How would he react if he knew what I intended to do when I reached Belle Valley, Ohio?