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Philadelphia
A LIGHT RAIN FELL from a breezy sky as Zan and Rainer pulled up to his place. Zan knew she should’ve already given Rainer her little speech about keeping their relationship casual. She’d been thinking about it all week, but come Friday her nerve failed her. They’d gone to dinner and a photojournalism exhibit and she hadn’t said a word about it. Now here she was, fully intending to have sex with him, but afraid he expected her in his bed until Monday. More afraid that she wanted it, too.
Maybe I shouldn’t have come back here at all. Like I could resist.
To make matters worse, she sensed a vulnerability in him, a need for her. Zan had been trained to observe people closely. She wished she could turn it off. Wished she hadn’t noticed his haunted eyes as he took in the photographs of war.
When they were inside the house Rainer went to the refrigerator to remove a carafe. “Would you like a drink, Zan? I made this for you. Seltzer and fresh pomegranate. Very tasty.”
Please stop being so sweet.
“That sounds delicious. Thank you,” she said, unable to look at him. He poured a measure of the fizzy red liquid into a champagne flute and handed it to her before he poured one for himself. She sipped and peeked at him over the top of her glass.
“Is something bothering you?” he asked.
“Um, Rainer, I should let you know, I have no intention of staying here tonight.”
He gave her a probing look. “Why not?”
“Because, um, I have a lot to do tomorrow. I have band practice and some things I have to do for work and I need a nice, long sleep.”
Rainer pursed his delectable lips. “And the real reason?”
Heat crept over Zan’s face.
“Well, I think we should keep our relationship uncomplicated for a while.”
“Uncomplicated,” he repeated flatly.
“Yes. Simple. I have a lot going on in my life and I, um, I want to keep things casual for the moment.” Zan thought she saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes, but he slid them away from her gaze. He took a sip from his glass, then softly harrumphed. When he looked at her, whatever hurt he felt was hidden behind a wry smile.
“All right,” he said. “Truth be told, casual would suit my situation better as well.”
Zan felt relieved. And disappointed.
Jesus Christ. I’m a basket case.
Rainer lifted his chin to squint at her. “Yes, Zan. By all means, let us keep things uncomplicated,” he said before he put his hands on either side of her face and kissed her in a way that belied his words. An electric tingle pooled at the base of her neck, flowed down her spine and exploded into a dozen tendrils that reached through her body like the shimmering arms of a golden firework.
This man. He sends my imagination into overdrive.
He took off her clothes, running his hands lightly along her limbs until she was a little delirious. When he’d finished, he tilted her head back to kiss her, his mouth soft and warm. Zan gazed at him, eager for him to kiss her again. He gave her what she wanted as his sensitive hands palmed her breasts. Then he sucked on his fingers and reached between her legs to softly press and caress her. Zan closed her eyes and moaned.
“I need your clothes off,” she said, reaching for his belt. She removed his garments and pushed him back against the massive kitchen table. “Get on the table.”
“Don’t I need a condom?”
“No. I’ve taken care of it. I plan to have boatloads of uncomplicated sex with you and I want you unsheathed.”
Rainer chuckled and hopped on the table. She climbed on top of him and rubbed herself against him, feeling her craving grow with each juicy pass. Rainer grabbed her hair with one hand and kissed her, hard, staring at her with fire in his eyes. She adjusted her position and slowly lowered herself, taking him inside her, expelling one long “Mmmmmm,” as she savored every delicious inch. Rainer swayed beneath her, encouraging her. Grabbing his shoulders, she swirled and rocked. She felt like she was telling him things with her body. She didn’t even know what they were.
Closing her eyes, Zan felt a strange impression of strength as billowy shapes played across her lids. Her body swelled and she lost awareness of the room as her every sense was consumed by movement. Rainer placed his hands on her hips and swept into her, over and over. She came with a violent shudder and a hearty yell. Rainer joined her with a rumble and an ecstatic arching of his back, then lay flat on the table, still inside her, staring up at her with startled intensity. Still hard. Zan had not even caught her breath when she felt that hardness double in potency.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I can’t help it,” Rainer said in a husky voice. “You’re like the fresh promise of the Earth in springtime.”
“The things you say,” she murmured. He pulled her breast to his mouth and sucked her so tenderly she felt a sweet internal spasm. She moved again, slowly and softly at first, but building to a deep and greedy diving of her hips. Rainer held onto the edges of the table, his whitened knuckles revealing the effect of Zan’s movements. “Don’t hold yourself back on my account,” she cooed.
That was all he needed. He rose up and flipped her onto the table. He ran his hands along her legs until they were straight up in the air, then bit her calf with a growl. Zan couldn’t reach the ends of the table to hang on, but Rainer ran his hands back down her legs to hold her by the thighs as he shoved into her with hydraulic force. She gasped and strained on the table to receive him, to open herself so he could find the place that only he could find. He moved slowly and powerfully within her, pulling her to him. When she came, she lost all awareness of her surroundings again, conscious only of Rainer, the points at which he touched her, and the flowering, hot pleasure that spread through her body.
When Rainer felt her come to him he cradled her and moved her forward in tandem with his final surge. He lay on top of her, softly pressing. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, gripped by a wave of devotion, quickly followed by a feeling of being horribly exposed. She loosened her grip and pushed at him. He rolled off and stretched out on the table beside her, sticking his nose in her hair and flinging his arm across her chest. He made a little purring noise she would have found adorable if she hadn’t been so suddenly filled with anxiety. She lay still for a few minutes until her heart slowed from its pounding.
“Okay, well like I said, I have a lot to do tomorrow.” She got off the table and looked around for her clothes.
“You’re leaving?” Rainer sat up. “After that?”
“I said I would leave, so I’m leaving.” Zan cringed inside to hear herself talk. Her voice was filled with false bravado.
“You are the strongest-willed woman I have ever met,” Rainer said.
“Ha! Strong-willed. My brothers would call it stubborn.”
“You are the most stubborn woman I have ever met.” His expression did not change. Zan gave him a fond glance.
“Don’t worry, Rainer. We can do more righteous fucking next weekend.”
She expected him to smile, but he frowned at her instead.
“I also like to talk to you, you know.”
Zan looked away. It had never occurred to her that she could hurt his feelings.
I’m such a coward.
“Rainer, I’m sorry. I told you. I have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow.”
“Yes, you told me.” From the look on his face, she knew he didn’t believe her for a second. She got dressed. Rainer leaned against the table, remaining gloriously naked.
“Aren’t you going to put some clothes on?” Zan asked.
Rainer tilted his head and smirked. “No.”
“If you are trying to defeat my stubbornness, that’s not the way to go about it. Test me and I double down.”
“Duly noted,” he said, wrapping his sculpted lips around each syllable.
I have got to get out of here now, or he’ll succeed in keeping me.
She left. I cannot believe I feel this way because of it. How can I miss her when she just walked out the door? I should be happy she wants an uncomplicated relationship, but I want more. I want her to trust me. I want her heart. My pain will be burned away in its fire.
How can I be so ridiculous? I cannot even tell her what I am. Pellus would call it irresponsible, but I cannot help it. I want to love her. I will be good to her, please her like no one else can. I will protect her, support her. That is what matters. That is all that matters.
I do not even know what it is, this rising of my mind, but it makes me feel weak. Serenely and beautifully weak.
She said she wants to keep it simple, but I see how she wavers. I will change her mind. The next time I love her, I will wake beside her. One more time lying in my arms in the morning light and she will be mine.
Emanuel Morales had lived on the top floor of a dilapidated rowhome in South Philadelphia that operated as a boarding house. The whole arrangement was illegal. The place wasn’t up to code and the slumlord owner never obtained the zoning to run a commercial enterprise. After Mr. Hernan found out from Mani’s friends where he had lived, Zan tracked down the owner, Ted Kaminski, and requested a meeting. She assured him she didn’t care about his illegal business. She almost wished he had refused to talk to her. She would have had the city shut his trashy flophouse down.
Zan met Kaminski out front. He was a corpulent man of about fifty who lived in New Jersey. They exchanged greetings and Zan reminded him that she was investigating the murder of Emanuel Morales.
“Yeah, when you called I looked in my records,” Kaminski said. “Shows I threw him out for nonpayment. Like I said, I don’t remember him. They come and go.”
With a huge effort of will, Zan refrained from calling him a scumbag. “What about the superintendent you mentioned on the phone? You thought he might remember Mr. Morales.”
“Okay, yeah. Paco’s a guy I let stay for free in exchange for doing some work around the place. He might remember this guy. I think he’s here.” They entered the shabby house and followed the shadowy hall to a door at the back. Kaminski knocked.
“Hey, Paco, you in there?” he yelled. Zan heard movement. A few seconds later Paco came to the door. He was a small, wiry man with jet black eyes and salt-and-pepper hair, maybe in his 40s. He blinked at them.
“This is Agent O’Gara,” Kaminski said. “She’s from the FBI, but don’t get all freaked out. She just wants to ask about some guy. What’s his name?”
“Emanuel Morales. His friends called him Mani.”
Paco sized Zan up with a slight movement of his eyes. He mumbled something in Spanish and Zan cursed herself for not bringing Elena.
“Please, sir. Mr. Morales’ body was found this past winter. Someone killed him. We are trying to bring his killers to justice. Mr. Hernan asked his friends where he lived. That’s how I knew to come here.”
“Mr. Hernan?” Paco said. He looked Zan up and down and must have decided she was telling the truth. “Yes, I heard about poor Mani. I remember him. He was a very nice man, a very good neighbor for a long time, but then maybe he drank too much. He drank too much and lost his job. He couldn’t pay, so Mr. Kaminski told him to leave.” Paco looked askance at the slumlord, who was absorbed in his phone.
“Did you ever see him again?”
“Yes, I saw him,” Paco said softly, the corners of his mouth drooping. “He had no job, no home, nowhere to go. He got worse with the drinking.”
“Where did you see him last?” Zan felt the same knot of grief and empathy she always felt when she heard that booze had claimed another victim.
“Near City Hall. I talked to him. He was happy to see me but he was confused. He looked like maybe he was sick.”
“Do you remember when that was?”
“No, not really, but it was starting to get cold. I remember because I worried about him, being out in the cold.” Paco turned inward as he said this, like he was looking at his own regret. She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t the cold that had hurt Mani.
“Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to hurt Mr. Morales?”
“I don’t see why anyone would hurt him. He never hurt nobody.”
Zan stood there looking at Paco. She wanted to tell him she would get the bastards who did this, but she didn’t know if it was true. “Thank you very much for speaking with me, sir. It was very helpful. I hope we can do something for Mani.”
Paco nodded, turned away and shut his door. Zan reluctantly thanked the slumlord and left. As she walked to her car a block or two away, she got that sinking feeling. Her investigation was going nowhere. She would tell Philadelphia homicide detectives everything she had discovered, but it wouldn’t do any good. Odds were the killers had no personal connection to their victim, so his identity didn’t help. She would have to give some thought to her next move, but she had no intention of letting it drop. She didn’t want Mani to become just another unsolved case.
Evil fuckers chose a victim they thought no one cared about. Well, I care about you, Mani. There but for the grace of God go I.