Fly With Fire (25 page)

The wind blew in the open
terrace door bringing in the first cool of evening. He looked in the direction
of the terrace and wondered how long it would take to drop to the ground.
Keeping public safety in mind, he decided on another course. “Cherisse.” He
tried to pull her hands from his neck. Her large breasts pressed against him.
He managed to push her back and hold her by the wrists. “This is not a good
idea.” His brows crinkled with the sensation of déjà vu. His voice echoed back
to him from a few nights before. He had been in this same situation. He had
said almost the exact same words. The difference was he was feeling not the
least sensation from the woman in front of him and had felt everything, all
desire possible, for the apparition that was Mo. For now she seemed like a
figure in a dream. Yet what he’d felt had been as real as anything he’d known
before. She had flown away and taken some part of him with her. He stood before
the puzzled Cherisse, the shell Monica Whitman had left behind.

“Why don’t we go have a
drink, it’s early. Maybe we can find someplace to dance.” Zack slowly let go of
her wrists. “I’ll change my clothes.” It was the least he could do.

“Well, a little delayed
gratification never hurt, I guess.” She furrowed her brow and pulled her pout
to the side. “You got something on your mind?”

“Ah, work stuff. You know how
it is. Have some more wine. It’ll only take a minute.” Zack went into his room
and shut the door. He clicked the lock in case she decided to follow him. He
felt so tired. How could he cut the night short and not have to hear Mrs.
Powecki scold him for dumping her dog walker. Sudden headache? Sick stomach?
Police emergency? He just wanted to get rid of her and call Mo. Surely she was
in Montreal by now. She said she had an afternoon flight, though he wasn’t
clear on the time. He just didn’t want his memory of her sullied by the manner
of their parting. He thought of his foolishness and the insult that must have
cleaved her to the core. It was a situation with no remedy. He wouldn’t see her
again but maybe he could live with it if he made amends and genuinely wished
her well. If he could hear her voice saying goodbye to him as a friend he’d
feel better. Maybe it would be another torture but he’d have to risk it.

Zack went into his room and
grabbed a black short sleeved shirt out of his closet and a grabbed some gray
slacks out of a drawer and laid them on his bed. He chuckled to himself that he
had changed the sheets in anticipation of some sort of sexual purge of his
longing for Mo. He stepped into his bathroom and brushed his teeth quickly. He
just wanted to get her out the door and then figure out how to disentangle
himself from her. “Brought this on yourself, buddy,” he said to his reflection.

He combed his hair in the
mirror then went into the bedroom to don his slacks. He slid into his shoes and
was just about to throw on his shirt when he heard a knock. He heard Cherisse
talking to someone and stepped out of his room as he started to button his
shirt.

The traffic into the city was
ridiculous. The backup into the city had the cars crawling bumper to bumper.
“What’s all this traffic from?” Mo inquired of the driver. It was worse than
some of the rush hour traffic she had seen there.

“Sunday night all the people
come back from Wisconsin,” he put the emphasis on “Wis”. “There two ballgame
tonight. Wrigley and Soldier. Many peoples go in for game. There is tech show
at McCormick. Many peoples go there.”

“They go there at night?” Mo
leaned her head into what little breeze she could get.

“Big laser show there
tonight.” The driver’s turban bobbed as he spoke.

“You sure know what’s going
on in Chicago.” Mo gave him a little smile in the mirror.

“People ask me where to go,
what is to do? I let them know some stuff to see in Chicago. Like show at
Greendale. Big show, sell out all the tickets but now stay longer. Everybody
want to see fire girl. There was murder. Big news. Not fire girl but other girl
in show was killed in hotel. You don’t be scared, go see show. I take family
but it too much money.”

“I guess it cost a lot to put
on a show like that.”  Mo was happy to see them finally making the turn
off the interstate that would take them toward Lakeshore Drive.

“Yes, it first class.
Everybody say it best show ever. It very famous; you heard of it? You not from
Chicago? But maybe you heard of it. It go to other city, here and there. Around
the world. Big show!”

“What’s the show called?”

“Oh, it called ‘The Fire
Girl’, something like that. Lady is on fire. High on rope. People do tricks, like
circus. I love to take kids but not for us. We get to Drive, traffic open a
little. Go on Lakeshore. Make better time.”

And better time they did make
with the amiable driver chatting and giving Mo a little guided tour.  She
couldn’t help but think of her first drive with Zack down “The Drive” as many
called it. Once again the sun had sunk below the horizon. The last shafts of it
had disappeared as they sat in traffic. The street lights were coming on like a
summons to the night. She half listened to the turbaned driver and watched the
runners in well lit Lincoln Park. She recognized the John Hancock building. She
remembered Zack explaining about the colored lights at the top of the
buildings. They took the hard curve along the lake that brought Navy Pier into
view, the Ferris wheel lights blazing and blinking as she recalled the night
she and Zack had gone up and viewed the city from the top of it. His jacket on
her shoulders. His breath on his ear. That guilty flash of attraction. She had
thought about crawling into bed with him that night. Had lain in bed and
castigated herself for thinking of sex when Ling had just been murdered. Had
she really wanted sex? Or had she just needed to be held by someone?

The driver wove in and out as
they cruised past downtown. She knew they were getting close when the History
Museum came into view, the Tutankhamen banners waving in the evening breeze.
Lots of people milled about. She looked to her right and saw the lights on
Buckingham fountain as they flashed on. The driver turned onto Roosevelt and
shortly onto Indiana Ave. A few blocks down she realized they passed the
building.

“Sir? I think…”

“We turn ‘round. Pull up on
right side of street.” Indiana had far less traffic. With ease the driver made an
illegal U turn and pulled up in the no parking zone in front of Zack’s
building. “There you go Ms. Lady,” the driver said as Mo hesitated.

“Think you can wait for me?
I’ll need to go back to the airport. Maybe Greendale Hotel. Can you wait a few
minutes?” She looked at him pleadingly in the mirror and suddenly hoped he’d
say no. Then she’d have to stay. What if Zack wasn’t home? What if he slammed
the door in her face? What had she been thinking? Maybe she should just go
right back to the airport and leave well enough alone.

“I sorry Lady, you must pay
eighty dollar. You skip, I pay company eighty dollar. And maybe lose cab.” He
twisted and looked at her, unsure. “You pay eighty dollar, I wait.”

“Of course. I’m sorry. Of
course I’ll pay you now. Here take two hundred off this card. That’ll cover the
round trip. I won’t be long. Please wait until I come out. Don’t leave me.” She
jumped out of the cab leaving her backpack and credit card in the driver’s
keeping. He watched her approach the door “Must have man problem,” he thought
as he reached for his cell phone.

Mo scrolled the names on the
call box for Zack’s building. She went through again thinking she’d missed it.
“Burnham. Burnham.” It wasn’t there. He had been in the building for a few
months. Wouldn’t his name be in the call box by now? Maybe she should call his
cell phone. She looked at the cab realizing she had turned off her phone and
put it into her backpack after calling her security detail. She had said simply
that she’d made other plans and would get in touch later. She hung up as the
man started to argue. She’d thought, Roddy’s going to be pissed.

She took a step toward the
cab then heard muffled laughter from the lobby. Mo turned and saw a dressed up
couple about to push through the door. She grabbed the handle as it opened and
held it and slipped in exchanging a nod with the couple. She breathed a sigh of
relief and wondered if she should be relieved as she pushed the elevator
button. It was twelve wasn’t it? Or was it eleven? She stepped out on twelve.
Doors lined the corridor, each one indistinguishable from the next. She
couldn’t remember the number. She wasn’t sure about the floor. She walked down
the corridor hoping the number would come to her. “Twelve oh… twelve…oh nine…”
Just as a cacophony of shrill barks made her jump a little she noticed a
crucifix on the door of twelve seventeen. Mrs. Pow something. Lots of dogs. His
unit was across and down one she recalled somehow.

Mo stood in front of twelve
twenty and steadied herself with a deep breath. She breathed out slowly and
knocked on the door. If he doesn’t answer I’m getting on a plane, she told
herself. She just wanted to talk to him. What was the worst that could happen?
Her mouth, already dry, felt like it was full of sand. Just turn and go, just
turn and go. The door opened.

Mo’s eyes widened in
astonishment at the sight of the platinum blond who gauged her from beneath
glitter strewn eyelashes. She took in the fishnet top and short skirt. “Oh, I
sorry I’m looking for Zack Burnham, maybe I have the wrong…”

“He lives here. You a friend
of his?” Cherisse sized up the tall, lean woman in the White Sox cap.

“I was looking…Um… I’m sorry
I didn’t mean to inter…”

“Someone at the door?” Mo’s
heart lurched at the sound of his voice. Cherisse shrugged and walked into the
low lit living room. Mo smelled the steak and the sexy perfume from Cherisse.
 Her eyes were following the black lines up the actress’ fishnets in
dismay when Zack appeared, buttoning his shirt.

His eyes widened and they
stared at each other frozen for a moment before Zack recovered and said softly,
“Hi, Mo.”

“I’m sorry, I
interrupted…your evening…I didn’t think…Oh, my God I’m sorry! You have
company…” She took a step back and turned. She could not have flown down the
corridor any faster without running.

“Mo, wait…” He stepped out
and shouted after her. Luckily for Mo the elevator had not been called to
another floor. She saw Zack in her peripheral vision coming toward her,
buttoning his shirt. The doors opened and she almost jumped inside pressing the
lobby button immediately.  She saw him in the fraction of a second before
the doors completely closed. She plastered herself for the ride down against
the back of the elevator leaning her head back against the mirror as if bracing
for an impact. “Stupid. Stupid! What did I think? That he had no life before
me? Oh, my God!”

The doors opened and she flew
outside just as a police cruiser was pulling alongside the waiting cab. “We’re
going now, officer, right now!” The cruiser moved on. She jumped in. “Airport!”
The driver twisted to hand her the credit card with curiosity on his face. But
she didn’t see it or the card. She was bowed over with her face in her hands. A
stream of self loathing thoughts raced through her mind. The driver tapped her
with the card. Embarrassed he pulled into the street as she threw the card into
her backpack. “What an idiot. Who did I think I was? He has a date. I was the
last thing on his mind. Her mouth was so dry she felt like her throat was
swelling shut. The cab turned on Roosevelt. “Hey, would you pull into that gas
station?”

Zack stood outside the
elevator with his heart racing. “What the Hell?” He wanted to go after her. His
keys, everything, were in his condo. What was she doing? How did she get here?”
He made his way glumly but quickly down the hall. Cherisse waited in the living
room, hand on her hip. Zack closed the door and faced her. “Look, Cherisse…”

“You keep your dance card
full, don’t ya?” Cherisse placed her hands on her hips and pulled her lips
tight as if she’d just caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what
to say, but right now I gotta go. Please…I have to…we have to talk. Me and the
woman who…we have to talk. Zack floundered with embarrassment and waited for
the cat’s claws.

“Did you know you had it this
bad before our date? Or did you realize it just now?” Cherisse slid her finger
down his cheek. What now? She gazed at him placidly. He would have felt safer
with bared teeth. She hadn’t somehow concealed a knife in that skimpy outfit
had she? He mumbled apologies. She turned and picked up her bag where she had
tossed it on the sofa. “I think this dates over. Thanks for dinner. I’m gonna
stop in and say ‘Hi’ to Mrs. Powecki.  If I were you, Detective, I wouldn’t
waste any more time.” She sauntered to the door. “You’re a great guy, Zack.
Hope it works out for you. If it doesn’t, you owe me a night out. She opened
the door and began to exit with a wink.

“Cherisse.” Zack stepped over
to her.

“Yeah?”

“You do do character.”

She flashed a perfect smile,
“You betcha, big guy.”

Zack was down to his car,
keys in hand, before he realized he had no idea where she was going. The airport?
Was there a flight to Montreal this late? The hotel? He’d try her cell phone.
He pulled out onto Indiana with his cell phone out, remembering it was illegal
in Chicago to talk on a cell phone and drive. Call a cop, he thought. He dialed
several times. Her voice came on inviting him to leave a message. He didn’t
know what to say and hung up. He made the right onto Roosevelt heading toward
the Drive. He glanced at the gas station and saw it. O’Hare Express Cab. It was
parked in the space nearest Roosevelt, several spaces down from the entrance to
the store.