Duh. Me, either! I wanted him to come back to the hotel on Tuesday night, so I could trail him and find out what he’s doing there every week. I didn’t need him seeing me here now and getting spooked if he recognized me later in the hotel. No detective worth their salt would be so sloppy.
Daniel rested his hand on my shoulder. Several tense seconds ticked by. I watched Daniel’s face while he watched Darke under lowered eyelids, and my thoughts began to wander. He smelled nice. Maybe that was his hair. It fell over one shoulder and down his chest, and it was right in front of my face. Close enough that if I leaned forward a few inches, I could stick my face in it. It would be soft, and—
What was the matter with me? Soft hair? These were probably a serial killer’s thoughts. And for the love of Pete, why was I even thinking about this? Hadn’t we just had a fight? My feelings were certainly raw enough.
His hand was shifting to the back of my neck. I became light-headed, thinking about all the movies that had scenes in which people faked a kiss to avoid being seen. Was he planning to do that?
Did I want him to?
It didn’t matter, because his hand suddenly dropped to his side. Right. Ha. Yeah. No kiss was coming, so I could forget that silly notion.
“He’s not looking anymore,” Daniel murmured. “Let’s move before he leaves the park.”
Grabbing my hand, Daniel jogged toward the metal sculpture. I tried to run without making noise. The damp grass muffled our footsteps, and we slowed when our shoes hit concrete. The sculpture cast a big shadow, but it was getting lighter outside, and everything had that funny haziness of dawn. Dark... but not. Almost morning, not really night. I could see Raymond Darke clearly—could see the lolling tongues of his two beefy dogs. If I could see him, could he see me?
“Should we trail him?” Daniel whispered. “He might be headed home. We could see where he lives. How far could it be? Those mutts don’t look like they were bred for long-distance walks.”
“I don’t know.... I think it’s a bad idea. What if—”
A man stepped out from a shadow at the edge of the park. A uniformed cop. Darke stopped and talked to him. One of the bulldogs was pulling on his leash, trying to get around the cop’s legs. Holy crap, those dogs looked mean. Like they could tear someone’s hand off.
Suddenly the bulldog lunged and began barking. His brother joined in, a chest-deep cacophony that sent my adrenaline soaring:the dogs were barking at us.
For one terror-filled moment, I pictured the bulldogs breaking their leashes and running to attack us. But it was so much worse: the author and the cop both turned around, and Darke pointed in our direction.
“Oh, shit!” Daniel whispered loudly. “We gotta leave. Now!”
The cop shouted something at us that I didn’t catch because we’d turned around in tandem and strode away. Not fast enough to be running—that would look suspicious. But fast enough that my calves burned, trying to keep up with Daniel’s longer stride. I didn’t know where we were going. Wasn’t his car in the opposite direction?
We crossed the street and walked half a block before we could head around a building and catch our breath. Was the cop following, or had we lost him? I didn’t hear anyone coming. Maybe we were being ridiculous.
“We weren’t doing anything illegal,” I said, more to myself than to Daniel.
“I think he might have seen my face. Fuck,” Daniel swore.
“The cop?”
“No, Darke.” Daniel seemed even more upset than I felt. “This was stupid. I’m not even sure what we accomplished by coming here.”
We’d learned nothing about Darke. Possibly blew our cover. Nearly got attacked by rabid bulldogs. And, oh, that’s right: our terrible attempt at sex that I’d been desperately trying to forget? It was now back out in the open and more painful than ever.
If we’d accomplished anything, it was that we’d dug up a giant pit of misery beneath our own feet and both fallen inside.
My worries didn’t diminish when he drove me back downtown in silence. No David Bowie. No arguing. No nothing. It wasn’t until couple of hours later, when I was back at home and getting ready for bed, that a light shone from the top of our proverbial misery pit. I got a text from Daniel. It said:
TRUTH OR LIE, BONUS QUESTION:
Do u think we’d be together now if we never went to my car that day?
I reread it several times and finally typed out my answer:
I’m not sure.
Then I turned off my phone and went to sleep. Let him figure out if I was lying.
Maybe I’d need to figure that out myself.
“I don’t mind a reasonable amount of trouble.”
