“Julie,” I said, reaching out to her without stopping to think about it and putting my arm around her shoulders. “It’s going to be all right.” She turned to me, wrapped her arms around me, and put her face against my bare chest, crying harder now. I was surprised initially, but then I realized I shouldn’t be. The woman was running for her life, and her husband had been murdered. Just because she had done such a good job of holding up throughout the day didn’t mean I should expect it to continue. That wasn’t fair to her.
I didn’t say anything, because I knew there weren’t any words to comfort her for what she was feeling. Instead, I just held her while she cried. You do what you can. A few minutes passed, and then she got the tears under control and looked up at me, forcing a smile.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to make you endure that.”
“Don’t apologize,” I said. She hadn’t pulled away from me yet, and her arms were still around me. I didn’t have any desire to move them.
“It’s been hard,” she said. “It’s been really hard, but I have to put on the brave, happy face for Betsy. I can’t let her see how scared I am. I can’t afford to let that happen now.”
“I understand,” I said.
She exhaled heavily and put the side of her head against my chest. “I hope you understand how thankful I am to have you here. I hope you know how much you helped today, and how much better I feel knowing you’re here with us.” She lifted her head and looked into my eyes, our faces just inches apart, and I was very aware of the press of her breasts against my chest. “I’ve been so scared, and so lonely,” she whispered, squeezing the back of my neck with her hand. “So lonely.”
For one electric moment we remained in that position, staring into each other’s eyes, and then she leaned forward and brushed her lips lightly against mine. It was probably intended to be little more than a peck-a gesture of appreciation in a moment of emotion. I went with it, though, returning the kiss. I couldn’t help myself.
It was a long, good kiss. When she finally broke away, she was smiling, and I felt very small. I thought of John Weston, his dead son, and his granddaughter Betsy asleep upstairs, and I was ashamed.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” I began, but she leaned back in and kissed me again. And I meant to push her away, I really did, but I couldn’t. I was too attracted to her. I went with the kiss again, and she shifted in the water, sliding her thighs over mine so she was sitting on my lap, still squeezing my neck and kissing me, her breasts rising and falling against my chest as my hands glided across her back, smoothing the beads of water against her skin.
If I’d ever been more aroused, I couldn’t remember it. But even as our bodies pressed together and our lips met, other images were flashing through my mind. I saw the crime scene photographs of Wayne Weston’s corpse, and I saw his father sitting on the deck of his son’s house staring at the snowman with the world’s loneliest eyes. This time, I broke the kiss.
“We can’t,” I said, breathing heavily.
“Ssshh,” she said, putting her index finger to my lips.
“I have an obligation to John,” I said. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but I can’t…”I let my words trail off as she began kissing the side of my neck, and then I said the hell with it. I’d given her the chance to reconsider, and she’d passed. I wanted the woman, and I wanted her badly. I pulled her head toward me and kissed her again.
She ran her hands through my hair and over my shoulders as we kissed, and I let my fingers wander up her back to the strings of her swimsuit top. I ran my fingertips over the knot, and she kissed me harder and squeezed me with her legs, encouraging me. I pulled at the knot, loosening the strings and letting her swimsuit top slide free, leaving her breasts bare and warm against my chest. We were alone in the whirlpool, but it was a hotel, and people could walk by at any minute. I wasn’t even aware of the surroundings, though. Julie was all I could think about.
She slid farther up on my lap, lifting her chest slightly out of the water, the swimsuit top falling away completely, and she ran the palm of her hand up the inside of my thigh to my groin. And then my phone rang.
“Shit,” I breathed between kisses. This couldn’t be happening. Not now.
“Ignore it,” she whispered, caressing my jawline with the tip of her tongue.
I twisted my head slightly and leaned back so I could see the cell phone’s display. The caller ID was flashing the number, clearly illuminated against the green backlight. It was Joe.
“I’ve got to answer,” I said, “it’s my partner.”
“No,” she said, kissing my neck. “Call him back.”
I pushed down the urge to take her advice, and I reached for the phone with my left arm. She groaned softly and nipped my earlobe with her teeth. I got my fingers around the phone and brought it to my mouth. She sighed and slid off my lap, feeling in the water for the top of her swimsuit. As I pressed a button to receive the call, I felt like screaming at Joe to leave me alone and call back in an hour. Or six.
“You’ve got amazingly bad timing,” I said instead.
“I don’t care,” he said, and his voice was tense. “Lincoln, we’ve got major trouble.”
“What is it?” Julie had found her swimsuit top, and she was retying it behind her back. Now she looked at me, catching the concern in my voice.
“Kinkaid and I couldn’t find the Russians this afternoon,” he said. “I had a bad feeling about it, so I drove out to the airport and showed the attendants some photographs. Krashakov and Rakic took a plane out of the city today, Lincoln. They’re on their way to South Carolina. They’re coming after you.”
CHAPTER 19
I TURNED away from Julie, not trusting myself to keep my face from showing the chill that Joe’s news sent through me.
“Are you sure?” I asked, but I knew he was. Joe was not a man prone to false assumptions.
“Positive,” he said. “Kinkaid and I drove down to their house today, planning to keep an eye on them all night. The SUV was in the driveway, but it didn’t look like anyone was home. I went for a walk around the block and talked to one of the neighbors, an old lady who was out feeding stray cats. She told me she’d seen the Russians leave in a cab an hour before we got there. I didn’t like that at all-why leave in a cab when your own car is sitting in the drive, you know? So I went back and talked it over with Kinkaid. He thought maybe they were just trying to avoid using their own vehicle because they were going someplace where they didn’t want to be noticed, but I disagreed. I was thinking about the airport right away. I made him go out there with me, and we showed pictures around until we found someone who recognized them.”
“What time was their flight?” I asked. I had climbed out of the whirlpool now. The wind was cold against my wet body. My eyes were locked on the window of Julie’s hotel room, where Betsy Weston slept alone.
“Four-thirty,” he said. “There was a stopover, though, so the flight was expected to get into Myrtle Beach around nine tonight.”
“What time is it?”
“Nine-thirty.”
“Shit, Joe. Why the hell did you wait until now to call?”
“I’ve been trying to call, LP. It kept telling me your phone was either turned off or out of range.”
Cell phones. You gotta love ’em.
“You need to get moving,” Joe said. “Fast. According to the airport attendants I spoke with, Krashakov and Rakic were with two other men.”
“Four of them,” I said, my voice an unnatural monotone. “Great.”
“Are you with Mrs. Weston and the girl?”
It seemed strange to think of Julie as Mrs. Weston now, although I wouldn’t have thought twice about it a day earlier. “I’m with Julie,” I said. “We’re outside. Betsy is asleep in the room.”