Page 64 of Killer Body

For one moment, outside that open door, she tilts her face to his, and I think, no, they can’t really be going to kiss. But it’s something else, some shared exchange of emotion that maybe only people who have been together as long as they have can share. Whatever it is, it changes what I think about both of them.

I want to move forward, to ask more questions, but I hear someone calling my name. I turn.

Ellen stands outside the door, holding up a cell phone. She joins me on the sidewalk and gives me her cheerleader smile. “There seems to be some confusion,” she says. “I have Lucas on the line. He’d like to talk to you.”

“Hi, Lucas,” I say, smiling back at her as I press the phone to my ear.

“What the hell is going on? Ellen says you told her that I gave you permission to interview Rochelle McArthur this morning.”

I’m aware of Ellen’s inquisitive eyes, the fact that she, as well as Lucas, is waiting to hear my excuse for this intrusion into their safe little world.

“I lied,” I say.

“You lied? Why would you do that? I thought we were getting along.”

“I had to, Lucas. And I’ll explain why when I see you.”

An exasperated sigh. “And when might that be?”

“Right now, if that works for you.”

SEVENTEEN

Rochelle

“Give me a cigarette. In fact, give me the whole damned pack.”

“You know you’ll hate yourself later. Besides, we’re barely off the street. That girl could be following us.”

She slammed open the glove box, took out a safety kit, flipped open its tin lid. Underneath the couple of bandages, the two cigarettes lay hidden, wrapped in a piece of gauze.

She could feel his glance as, fingers shaking, she lit it.

“That’s not very healthy.”

The smoked burned its comfort into her lungs. “Healthful.” Her voice sounded like someone’s who’d taken a hit of weed and kept most of it down. “People are healthy. Things are healthful.”

“Or not.” He shot the window down a crack, which she hated. Turned on the air conditioner. Foul air crept into the refrigerated car. She sank back against the leather seat, unable to deal with one more confrontation. First, Bobbo, then Rikki Off the Record. They’d see about that one.

Beside her, Jesse navigated the freeway, coddling it as he did her. Then forgetting he was supposed to be driving, he turned as if they were in some damned coffee shop, his singsong voice touching upon the subjects of lung cancer, emphysema, secondhand smoke.

“So what’s health?” She exhaled a hearty stream out the window he’d cracked for her. “It’s just one more thing you’ll lose when you die.”

“Now, that’s a cheerful thought. I take it Bobby knows you too well to be convinced by whatever you said or did up there today.”

How could he always reach right into her head and come out with her secrets? The car bumped beneath them. Bad road or he’d drifted over a divider again. “Watch your driving,” she said. “I did my best back there. And, no, he was not thrilled that you tried to buy off Tania Marie and Princess Gabby.”

“You didn’t admit it?”

“Of course not.”

“You sure? You’re not changing sides, are you, not trying to blame the whole thing on me?”

She gulped smoke. Exhaled. “How long have we been a team?”

“Maybe you’re the one who should remember that. I stuck by you after the show folded. I’ll always stick by you.”

“As long as I keep bringing home the bacon.”