White tiger, p.7
White Tiger, page 7
Janine glanced at her half-naked son who had walked into the kitchen with Roxy panting at his side. She placed her purse on the kitchen counter and fumbled for her keys. “I’m going into town. Be back for dinner.”
Hank folded his arms. “Whew-wee! Are you the hottest or what.”
She smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“No, really. You look like a fox in those threads. If you weren’t my mamacita, I’d hop your bones.”
She gave him the evil eye. “Watch it, young man. One more crack and you’re grounded.”
He raised his hands apologetically and gave her a hug. “Love ya, Mom.”
His words melted her. She slapped his denim-covered butt and kissed him on the cheek. “Going out?”
“No, I gotta study the new books I bought for school.”
“What are you taking?”
“The usual boring stuff, except for my awesome elective.”
“Awesome?”
He backed away and spread his bare arms. “Art.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
He beamed. “You inspired me. Isn’t that cool?”
She reached out and gripped his shoulder. “That’s great, honey. Maybe we can work on some stuff together.”
He threw up his hands. “Ultimate!”
She smiled and looked at the dog. “Better take Roxy out. Looks like she’s ready to do some art on the kitchen floor.”
“On the way, boss.”
She stepped into the opened garage and watched her son and Roxy run into the back yard. The last thing she saw in the Mercedes’ rear view mirror was Hank throwing a stick and clapping his hands.
The ride into Seattle was pure hell. At one point, she veered off the 520 at Lake Washington with the intent of turning around.
She parked along Evergreen, her brown eyes staring at Lake Washington. Her mind flashed with memories of better times — times of hope and love — times of promise for a bright future with her husband — all of it replaced by hatred of the man she no longer loved.
She ran her finger across her cheek and knew it was too late to turn back. She took a deep breath and swerved the Mercedes up the Evergreen entrance ramp where she merged onto the 520 for the ride across Lake Washington’s floating bridge to Interstate 5 and downtown Seattle.
The sky was overcast with a threat of thunderstorms. It was sprinkling when she paid the parking attendant and walked up First Avenue toward Sutton Arms. It was eleven a.m. and the sidewalk was filled with pedestrians raising their umbrellas.
She was pushing through the revolving door when it hit her. This is it, woman. Step through this door and your life will never be the same.
She backed away and leaned against the concrete entrance portal. Haden’s words echoed in her ears. She saw her husband standing at the dining room table with the dishtowel dangling from his hand. She smelled her son’s sweet skin when he embraced her. She stroked her forehead and listened to the rain thumping on the umbrella. The sky rattled with thunder—
Turn back, woman. This story has been written too many times and they all have bad endings. Go back to your car, drive home, and screw your husband’s brains out tonight. It’ll work out. It’s not too late. Think of your children. Think of all you’ve built together.”
“Together?” She rubbed her cheek and pushed through the door.
“Hello, ma’am.”
She smiled at the guard. “Is Mr. Haden in?”
“I believe he is.” The guard lifted the phone off the console and pressed it against his ear. “Mr. Haden, you have a guest.” The guard smiled. “A very attractive lady.”
The guard put down the phone. “The first elevator. They’re doing maintenance on the second.
She pushed “34” and watched the mirrored door close. Her ears popped as the blue digits accelerated toward their destination. The elevator slowed to a halt and the mirrored door opened to the familiar emerald carpet. She stepped out of the elevator and walked toward the man standing at the opened gold door at the end of the corridor. He wore a white shirt unbuttoned at the collar with blue jeans and brown loafers. His black hair glistened like he’d just stepped out of the shower.
She stopped and gripped her purse with both hands. “Mr. Haden.”
“So formal.” He smiled and gestured her in.
She couldn’t help smelling his body lotion when she brushed past him. She stepped into the foyer and listened to the door close.
He nodded at the rattan chairs. “I’ll get your painting.”
She watched him disappear down the hallway. A deep sigh and she was seated prim and proper in one of the chairs, her purse resting against her ankle.
He returned with the black leather case dangling from his hand. “I’m flattered.”
“Flattered?”
He sat on the couch and slipped out the painting. “Wish I looked that good.”
“You know it’s you?”
“I sort of guessed it with the hiking clothes and jungle.” He eyed the painting. “I’m impressed with the jungle backdrop. You really captured it, Janine. The stifling undergrowth, the morning mist, the smell.” He swept his finger across the canvas. “It’s the way I remember it.”
“India?”
“And other places.”
She felt a disarming wave of calmness. “When were you there?”
“Nine years ago.”
“Were you there long?”
His face sharpened. “A lifetime.”
She watched him rest the painting against the cocktail table. He seemed uncomfortable, like something was eating at him.
She leaned forward. “You don’t want to talk about it?”
He sighed. “Not really.”
She nodded and listened to the rain spattering against the glass-walled window.
He leaned back on the couch and rested his head against the cushion. “How are you?”
She frowned. “I didn’t appreciate your phone call. My husband was standing beside me.”
“Sorry.”
They stared at each other. The only sound was the rain.
Haden looked at the window. “I led an ops team.”
“Ops?”
“Special operations ... reconnaissance. We were looking for something.”
“Looking?”
He looked down. “It’s a faded memory except for her.” He nodded over his shoulder at the painting. “I painted her from memory. She’s the only thing I want to remember.”
She stared at the tiger leaping forward, a ghostlike aura radiating from its body. “It’s incredible.”
He rested his hand on the couch. “Sit beside me.”
She hesitated.
“Please...”
She pushed out of the chair and eased down on the couch. Her soft voice broke the silence. “I need to tell you something. Mr. Haden. Something I’ve not told anyone.”
“Yes?”
She sighed. “If I’d met you when I was a hell-raising artist in Philadelphia, I would’ve fallen for you in a heartbeat.”
He started to speak, but she raised her hand. “But that was twenty years ago. I’m a married woman with two spoiled teenagers and a workaholic husband.”
“I see. Well—”
She glared at him. “I’m not finished.”
“Sorry.”
Her eyes welled up with tears. “I may divorce my husband soon. That’s why I can’t see you. There’s no way I’m going to have an affair with a free-spirited, handsome man at this time in my life.” She looked down. “I want no excuses for leaving my husband.”
“You’re missing something.”
“Missing?”
His blue eyes locked on her. “I’ve known many women. They all wanted happiness, but there was one difference between them and you.”
“Difference?”
“I didn’t love them.”
She shook her head. “You don’t know me.”
“I know what I want and it’s more than physical. After too many years, I’ve found someone who makes me want to live.”
She gave him the evil eye. “You have a way with words, Mr. Haden, but that’s not enough. You need to—”
His lips were on hers before she could say another word. She felt his arm wrap around her waist. She turned away, but he buried his face in her neck, his tongue and lips finding a magic spot.
“Stop it.... This is wrong.”
“It’s not wrong for two people to fall in love. Don’t pull away, Janine. Let’s take that ride together.”
His hands slipped through her parted suit jacket and tugged at her blouse. They found her bare skin and pulled her close.
“Stop it! Please...”
Everything blurred. She felt him unsnap her bra. His mouth and tongue were all over her. Her stomach heaved. She pushed against him a final time before digging her hands into his shoulders.
The next hour was surreal. He carried her into the bedroom and lowered her gently on the bed. She tried to get up but he forced her down. She could see his naked body in the daylight, his firm muscles rippling. His mouth was on hers. She gasped for breath as he slipped off her clothes. His hot tongue and lips were all over her.
“God ... please stop... “
Who are you kidding, Ms. Landry. Enjoy it, for god’s sake! Quit playing games and enjoy it!
She dug her fingers into him. She was on fire, her lips and tongue on his. And that wonderful feeling churning inside her. Rising from the depths after too many years of frustration. Like it or not, Janine Landry was reborn.
CHAPTER 17
Suspicion
Roy Colby swiped his soaked wristband across his sweating face, his black eyes staring at the man sprawled on the wood floor. “Another game?”
Tim shook his head and pushed off the floor with a grunt.
Roy eyed the rubber ball in his gloved hand. “Guess it’s my day.” He bounced the ball off the floor, waiting for Tim’s acknowledgement, but only got a shrug as his friend slipped through the handball court’s exit door.
“Hey!” Roy jogged through the opened door and caught up with him. “You okay?”
Tim ripped off his leather glove and slumped against the corridor wall.
Roy eyed him. “I guess that means no.”
Tim stared at the glove.
“Hey, we’re friends, man. Sometimes I win ... sometimes you.”
Tim shook his head. “It’s not that.”
Roy sighed. “You know I can’t talk about your partner status.”
“It’s not about work.”
“Then what’s bugging you?”
Tim stroked his matted blonde hair. “I think Janine is having an affair.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You’re putting me on.”
Tim pushed away from the wall. “Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.”
After a quick shower, they slipped into their eight hundred dollar suits and headed for the Columbia Club Bar atop the seventy-six-story Columbia Center Building, complete with its sweeping view of Seattle, Puget Sound, and the Cascade Mountains.
Nothing was said until the second round of martinis. Roy Colby was well schooled in disarming stressed-out clients, but his friend’s words had caught him off guard. He sipped his martini while taking in the 360-degree view. “Hell, it’s almost October. Where did September go?”
No reaction.
“Rainier’s showing some extra white on the peak. Won’t be long before the heavy rains come. Bet we get snow.” He stared at the dejected man seated across from him. “Want to talk about it?”
Tim sipped his martini and looked at the attractive couple seated at the bar. “They look happy.”
Roy gave them a smug glance. “Never know about that. I’ve made lots of cash handling divorces for happy-looking people.”
Tim leaned back in his chair. “How do you and Sandra do it?”
“Do what?”
Tim’s eyes locked on him. “Have such a great marriage. I’ve never known two people so much in love.”
Roy noticed his friend’s eyes tearing up. He pushed his drink aside and clasped his hands. “Thank you for that, Counselor. Wish I could give you a better answer.” He shrugged. “Guess we keep things in balance.”
“Balance?”
Roy nodded. “With my crazed schedule and her decorating business, we really have to work at it. You know, making time for each other and all that.
“How’s Jack?”
Roy broke into a proud smile. “He’s having a blast at military school. He’ll be graduating next year, then maybe West Point.” His smile faded. “Wish we could see more of him.”
Tim leaned forward. “So with him away, how do you and Sandy keep things in balance?”
“Balance?”
Tim nodded. “Your words, Counselor.”
Roy gave him the evil eye. “If you mean finding time to make love to my wife ... we manage.”
“How?”
“You serious?”
“Very.”
Roy stroked his black hair. “For us, it’s an occasional long weekend in the Cascades or some remote inn along the coast.” He shrugged. “Never really thought about it.”
“Because everything is so great?’
“Yeah, something like that.” Roy sipped his drink. “So, what’s going on?”
Tim looked down. “We had a bad argument in front of the kids. Guess I had too much wine and pissed her off.” He took a painful breath. “I felt really bad and tried to get her in bed.”
“Yeah?”
“She threatened to leave me.”
Roy stared at his friend while struggling for words. “Hey, old buddy, we all have our moments. If you think Sandra and I never had a good fight, you’re smoking weed. We’ve told each other off more than once, but we got over it and had some good sex to prove it.”
Tim blinked away a tear. “I need your help.”
“Professionally or as a friend?”
“Professionally.”
They stared at each other. The only sound was the hum of soft voices from the others in the bar.
Roy broke the silence. “You and Janine are our closest friends. Asking me to get involved professionally is something I can’t handle.” He watched his friend’s shoulders drop. “But if you want my help as a friend, I need to ask you some tough questions.”
Tim grasped his forehead. “Go on.”
“Sure?”
Tim nodded
“Have you ever been unfaithful to her?’
Tim’s head snapped up. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Never. Maybe a few innocent flirtations, but that’s where it ended.”
“Have you ever hit her?”
Roy’s words shot through him.
“Tim?”
“Once.”
“When?”
Tim rubbed his forehead. “The night she threatened to leave me.”
Roy’s eyes widened. “Last month?”
Tim forced a nod.
“How hard?”
“Huh?”
“How hard did you hit her?”
Tim felt a sobering chill. “A harmless slap.”
Roy’s eyes flickered. “No slap is harmless.” He raised his hand to silence his friend’s retort. “I need details.”
“What?”
“Details.”
Tim gulped his martini and sank in his chair. “We were having dinner. I’d just won the Clairmont case. I was upset the kids didn’t care.”
“And?”
Tim started to speak and froze. He placed his fist against his mouth and looked down at the empty glass.
“Get it out. It’s important.”
“I took it out on her.” He muffled a sob. “I was so wrong. Oh, god ... so wrong.”
Roy’s eyes burned into him. “You hit your wife in front of your children?” He stared at the man trembling across from him.
“I begged her to forgive me, but she didn’t care. She blew up at me. I think she wanted to kill me.”
Roy fell back in his chair and stared at Mount Rainier. “Yeah ... sure looks like snow.”
He waited for his friend to calm down before cutting to the chase. “What makes you think she’s having an affair?”
Tim gestured to the waiter for another round. He took a calming breath and rested his hands on the table. “She’s painting again.”
“I know, Sandra told me. Sounds like a good thing.”
Tim watched the waiter place two martinis on the table. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a credit card. “That will be all, thank you.”
“Yes, sir.” The waiter swept up the card and retreated toward the register.
Tim gripped the fresh glass. “She finished an incredible painting in only a few days. When I asked her about the man in the painting, she said it was me.”
Roy traced his finger along his martini glass. “What did he look like?”
“A big game hunter. Lots of jungle in the background.”
“Did he look like you?”
“Some, except for his eyes.”
“Eyes?’
“No killer instinct. A real wimp.”
“I see.”
“When I asked who he was, she told me it was a symbolic painting of me winning the Clairmont case.”
Roy pushed his glass away. “Did you believe her?”
“At first.”
“And?”
Tim gulped down the martini and grimaced. “In the past month, she’s been going into town twice a week and coming home late. She never did that.”
Roy shrugged. “Hell, Janine and Sandy go into Seattle at least once a week with their friends. Shopping, lunch, or just hanging out like we’re doing now.”
Tim leaned toward him, his eyes glistening. “This is different. She spends her evenings in the attic painting. Then she drives into town to have her work reviewed by the Northwest Artist Guild.”
“So?”
Tim glared at the empty glass. “I finally got the courage to call someone at the guild. I told them I was a friend trying to find out when her paintings would be displayed.” He lifted the empty martini glass and tasted its remaining drops. “They don’t know her.”
Roy studied his shaken friend. “You’re sure?”
“Deadly ... and there’s something else.”
“Yeah?”
