THIRTY-SIX
L
ucille was charged with aiding and abetting a conspiracy. The murder charge against her was dropped cause I said she saved my life. Which she did. Besides, she was gonna be in jail a long time until the case came to trial since she had no money for bail.
After the money in Charlie’s car was returned to William Ladd, he went home to Jennifer and God knows what they told each other about their golden boy, Charles Ladd.
Raymond and Thelma Cooper tried to make do with the knowledge that their son’s killer had been identified and killed. I don’t think it did a thing for them.
The Turners had lost both of their daughters, in a way. I’m not sure the father cared. The mother was another story. Still, she’d stay with him, listen for the rest of her life to her husband calling both her girls whores and worse.
Van Widmark missed both Claire and Lucille. But nothing much changed for him. I promised myself I’d visit him if he’d let me, but I wondered if I would.
Marty got a commendation for breaking the case. Detectives Powell and Stevens tried for the glory, but it didn’t work.
Stork got a bottle of Johnnie Walker from me, which I knew was his favorite, cause he’d pointed me in the right direction.
Birdie still had Pete. And I gave her a small raise just for being Birdie Ritter.
Dolores was back sweeping the hall floor in front of her apartment and trying out new wigs. She’d changed her tune about Morris since he’d tended her every night. He was her favorite now cause the other one, Larry in California, had sent her a bouquet of flowers but was always too busy to call or visit.
George Cummings and Mr. Cooper each gave me a bunch of money for solving the case. Cummings had the blues over the whole thing but went back to his life.
And me? I put a down payment on a Weber upright piano. I’d pictured a baby grand taking up residence on that spot in my place, but it would take me a lot longer to pay it off. I was high as a kite about almost owning it. Once again, I’d been reminded that life can be unexpectedly short. I’d make the upright work in the space I had.
But I wasn’t walking on air every minute cause I was alone, except for Zachary who was growing bigger every day and eating me outta house and home. I missed Johnny like crazy. I thought about giving him a ring but what would I say? I hadda be my own person and that meant doing my job. The thing he didn’t like most. So I didn’t pick up the phone.
A few days later, as I left my apartment, I wondered when a new case would come my way and what it’d be like.
Dolores was there doing her best to make it to the Clean Hall Hall of Fame.
“Hello, Faye. My bubele who got the man who almost killed me.”
I smiled at her. She said this now every time I saw her. She also kept the neighborhood entertained with her near-death story. Each time new details were added, like Dolores almost wrestling Charlie Ladd to the floor before he shot her.
Today she was wearing a yellow sunsuit, a purple checked blouse underneath it, and a blond wig, reasonably straight, in a pageboy style.
“Why so glum, chum? I learned that from Morris. Speaking of Morris, have you ever known a better boy? He’s workin on his art. Paintin great big pictures. Soon he’s gonna bring me to his studio to see.”
I wondered what Dolores would think of them. Maybe she had a mother’s blindness and would love anything he did even if she didn’t understand it.
“That’s great, Dolores.”
“So back to you. You just solved a big case and whaddaya look, down in the dumps.”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Okay, if you say so. But ya don’t look so fine to me.”
“Trust me.”
“With my life.” She gave me a big smile.
I said again that I was fine, left the building, and got the shock of my life. Detective Johnny Lake was sitting on the bottom step, smoking a butt. When he heard the door close behind me he turned, saw me, and stood up. He tipped his hat.
“Hello, Faye.”
“Johnny. What’re ya doin here?”
“I came to see you. You going to work?”
“Yeah.” To say my heart was doing backflips was softpedaling it.
“Mind if I walk you to the subway?”
I came down the stairs. “No. I don’t mind.”
We started walking toward Seventh Avenue. In the middle of Bleecker I was a step ahead of him when I realized he’d stopped dead. I turned around.
“Faye.”
“What?”
“I’m not good with words.”
“Sure ya are. Ya didn’t have any trouble sayin goodbye.” I couldn’t help myself.
He looked like I’d given him a kidney punch. “Guess I deserved that.”
I shrugged.
“Faye, have you got a new boyfriend?”
“It hasn’t been that long, Johnny. You think I’m the kinda girl goes from one to the other?”
“No. No, I didn’t mean it that way. I just needed to be sure.”
“Sure?”
“Faye, I’ve been miserable ever since we split.”
I thought of saying nothing but I didn’t wanna play games. “I haven’t been feelin so hot myself.”
“So why aren’t we together?” he said.
“You know why, Johnny.”
“I was being stupid.”
“I can agree with that, but it doesn’t mean ya changed yer feelings about me and my job.”
“I’d rather live with that than live without you.”
I didn’t know what to say so I stayed buttoned up.
“I’m not pretending that it won’t peeve me now and then, but we can nail that down. Can’t we?”
“It’s you who’s gotta nail it down, or not. I do fine with it.”
“I heard how you broke that big case.”
“I figured most people thought Marty broke it.”
He smiled and his eyes played a samba. “I know better. See, I’ve come to realize you’re good at this game. And if you’re good, why shouldn’t you do it?”
“You on the level, Johnny?”
“Give me another chance and you’ll see.”
“Why not?” I said. In my head I was clicking my heels. On the one hand, I didn’t wanna play games, but on the other, I didn’t wanna be too easy.
“You mean it?” he said.
“Sure.”
“I’ll make it up to you, Faye.”
There was nothing more to say right then. He reached out and took my hand in his. We walked silently to the subway, holding hands.
It felt swell.
By Sandra Scoppettone
SOME UNKNOWN PERSON
SUCH NICE PEOPLE
INNOCENT BYSTANDERS
A CREATIVE KIND OF KILLER
RAZZAMATAZZ
DONATO AND DAUGHTER
BEAUTIFUL RAGE
THIS DAME FOR HIRE
TOO DARN HOT
THE LAUREN LAURANO NOVELS
EVERYTHING YOU HAVE IS MINE
I’LL BE LEAVING YOU ALWAYS
MY SWEET UNTRACEABLE YOU
LET’S FACE THE MUSIC AND DIE
GONNA TAKE A HOMICIDAL JOURNEY
FOR YOUNG ADULTS
TRYING HARD TO HEAR YOU
THE LATE GREAT ME
HAPPY ENDINGS ARE ALL ALIKE
LONG TIME BETWEEN KISSES
PLAYING MURDER
Books published by The Random House Publishing Group are available at quantity discounts on bulk purchases for premium, educational, fund-raising, and special sales use. For details, please call 1–800–733–3000.
Too Darn Hot
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
2007 Ballantine Books Mass Market Edition
Copyright © 2006 by Sandra Scoppettone
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
BALLANTINE and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
eISBN: 978-0-307-41758-9
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