Amanda's Blue Marine Read online

  “Losing your friends must have been hard,” he murmured.

  She nodded. “I felt responsible. The kid who hit us was drunk and I checked out clean at the scene, but that didn’t stop my friends’ parents from filing a class action wrongful death suit against me.”

  “Why?”

  “For money. They weren’t going to get a nickel out of the drunken teenager who hit us, but if they could prove I was a negligent driver who contributed to the outcome in some way my daddy would have to pony up for some big bucks.”

  He didn’t answer, merely studied her soberly.

  “And then the judge hearing the case severed the actions, so I had THREE lawsuits pending against me.”

  “And three dead friends,” Kelly said.

  She nodded.

  “What happened?”

  Mandy shrugged. “In the end the suits got nowhere but I had to endure a lot of hostile questioning from the opposing attorneys. Their constant implication was that I was a spoiled rich girl out joyriding in my daddy’s expensive car who was somehow responsible for the deaths.”

  “And you still finished school and became a lawyer,” Kelly said dryly.

  “I realized from that experience that I could do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Hold my own in the big leagues,” she said simply. “But I was worried the whole time that the suits were going to cost my father dearly, in terms of money, reputation, credibility. Just defending the cases was a fortune, and if I had lost it would have been much worse.” Mandy sighed. “Everyone involved knew I hadn’t done anything wrong. They only went after me in the first place because of the Redfield name. It made me a target.”

  “Who knew there was a downside to having money?” Kelly said softly.

  Mandy poured tea into her cup and added milk to it. “I learned that lesson the hard way,” she said.

  A waitress arrived with a coffee pot and refreshed Kelly’s cup.

  “No ser un extraño, hermoso,” she said to him. “Don’t be a stranger, handsome.”

  “¿Cómo es su marido, Rosa?” he replied. “How’s your husband, Rosa?”

  She stuck her tongue out at him and left.

  “What’s her problem?” Amada asked, trying hard not to smile. His dismayed expression when the waitress showed up so suddenly had been amusing.

  “I thought she’d quit her waitressing job,” Kelly said in a frustrated tone.

  “Apparently not. What happened?”

  He shrugged. “I got a little too friendly with her at the Christmas party here last year. They put on a spread for the cops at the holidays, it keeps the patrol cars checking on the premises and the riffraff away. I’d had a few drinks, she was a new hire and I didn’t realize she was married. When I learned that piece of information I didn’t pursue it any further. She’s still miffed about it.”

  “It’s nice to know you have standards,” Mandy said lightly.

  “Not too many,” he said. “But that’s one of them.”

  “You speak Spanish,” Mandy said.

  “Nah. I can barely speak English, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. I had to do two summer sessions of it just to get out of high school. The Spanish I picked up on the job. I just get by with it, and Janet Grady helps me. Her mother is Mexican and her family speaks Spanish at home.”

  “Your accent is very good.”

  He looked at her. “Yeah?” he said, doubtfully. “You can tell that from one sentence?”

  “Yes. You’re a good mimic. Most gringos don’t draw out the vowels and they clip the syllables too much. They sound like this.” She repeated the Spanish sentence with the wrong phrasing and he grinned.

  “That’s how my partner Donatelli sounds,” he said. He sat back in his seat and surveyed her.

  “So how many languages do you speak, professor?” he asked dryly. “Hindi, Croatian, Martian?”

  “Just the two, English and Spanish. Oh, and Latin, if that counts, since I don’t think Julius Caesar is going to show up any time soon to discuss his ‘Commentaries’ with me.”

  “I’ve read the ‘Commentaries’,” Kelly said. “Some parts, anyway. ‘De Bello Gallico.’”

  Mandy’s eyes flashed to his face.

  Kelly dissolved into laughter. “Look how amazed she is,” he said, delighted by her surprised reaction. “I’m telling you the truth, Amanda. I took a tactical class in combat training and we had to read the translations of all the journals: Caesar, Hannibal, Napoleon, Rommel.”

  “No Americans?”

  He nodded. “Lafayette, Daniel Morgan, Francis Marion, some others from the Civil War like Sherman and the major ones from World War II. I could hardly get through most of them, but Caesar was the easiest. It was like a diary and the language was simple.”

  “Simple for you, maybe. You were reading it in English, not translating the damn thing for an entire year,” Mandy said darkly.

  “I really liked that rebel who gave old Julius so much trouble. Caesar was always plotting to get him, and eventually he did, big time. His name was Lepidopterix or something like that. Sounds like a dinosaur.”

  “Vercingetorix.”

  “That’s him! That guy, he never gave up. Caesar would thump him and he would go away and hide, reassemble his boys or capture some slaves or annex some other tribe, and then come back at Caesar again. In the writing you could just hear Julius getting fed up with the whole thing. Didn’t what’s his name eventually surrender?”

  “In front of all his followers he rode in on his decorated war horse, stripped off his armor, and knelt at Caesar’s feet. Caesar let him live for five years and then executed him. But first Caesar paraded him around in chains before all the locals to show them what would happen to them if they got similar ideas.”

  Kelly nodded sadly. “Caesar should have shown more class there. A worthy opponent should be treated with respect.”

  “Napoleon respected Vercingetorix. He built a statue to him some place in France, where his tribe lived in Caesar’s time. It’s still there, I think.”

  “I can’t believe this conversation,” Kelly said. “How the hell did we get to ancient Rome from your car accident?”

  “ I think you were trying to steer me off that subject,” Mandy said gratefully. “What do you usually talk about with …” she stopped.

  “Women?” he supplied.

  “Yes.”

  “Them,” he said, grinning. “Their beauty, intelligence, sterling character, compelling personality. You know, fascinating topics like that.”

  Mandy eyed him warily. She knew he was teasing her but she also knew there was an element of truth in what he was saying.

  Be careful, she thought. And then, too late.

  She was already captivated.

  He patted his pockets and then stopped, sighing.

  “Searching for cigarettes?” Mandy asked.

  He looked at the ceiling. “I’m trying to quit.”

  They both glanced around as a loud voice behind them called out, “Hey, Kelly, long time no see. Where ya been, kid? Shacked up with that blonde I saw you with in Old City?”

  Kelly looked at Mandy and she saw his face tighten and a muscle begin to jump in his jaw.

  “Oh, Christ,” he muttered.

  Mandy’s alarm grew as he half rose from his seat to face the new arrival, who grinned obnoxiously at Amanda and added, “That blonde looked pretty hot.” He shot a parting glance at Kelly and moved on to the other side of the room.

  Kelly was standing as Amanda said to him urgently, “Don’t do anything. It doesn’t matter, Kelly. Let it go.”

  “It matters to me. He was saying that to make you uncomfortable.” Kelly’s gaze met hers. “He thinks you’re my date.”

  “I’m not uncomfortable and I’m not that delicate. I don’t want any trouble for you.”

  Kelly put his hand over Mandy’s fist, closed with tension on the table.

  “I’m not going to do anything, Amanda. You’ve had a bad da
y and I won’t make it worse. But I will get rid of him. Just let me take care of this, okay?”

  Amanda watched helplessly as he walked to where the new arrival was standing and engaged him in low conversation. The other man listened, gave a short reply, and moved away. Mandy watched as he crossed the room and left promptly through the front door.

  Kelly rejoined her and signaled the waitress to bring him another cup of coffee.

  “Who was that?” Mandy asked anxiously, watching the door as if Kelly’s antagonist might return.

  “Chris Bailey, another cop from my precinct,” Kelly replied tersely. “He’s not too stoked about me.”

  “Why?”

  “He thinks I stole his promotion, among other things.”

  “Did you?”

  Kelly shook his head. “Manning recommended me for the detective’s exam, not him. There are only so many slots that open up each year. He’s older. He’s married and has a family. He thinks I jumped ahead of him. The truth is Manning didn’t think he could score high enough on the test to even be considered for the interviews.”

  “But you did. Score high enough.”

  Kelly nodded. “And they didn’t even ask me about Vercingetorix.” He stared at her with feigned amazement.

  Mandy laughed, starting to relax again. “What were the other things?”

  “Beg pardon?”

  “You said there were other things that he was holding against you.”

  “We were in kind of a competition for the same woman for a while.”

  “And she preferred you?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. She preferred my situation. He’s married and seeing him would have meant sneaking around and lying and she wasn’t too keen on either one.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  “Nobody cares what I’m doing,” he said, half laughing, “so I guess I was the default choice.”

  Mandy had noticed before that he naturally downplayed his assets and victories, as if embarrassed by them. The only areas of achievement he seemed confident about and comfortable with were his ability to do police work, handle himself physically, and attract women.

  Not necessarily in that order.

  “What did you say to him?” Mandy asked. “To make him go away.”

  “I told him I would drag him outside and knock his ears off if he didn’t shut up and leave. And I would also tell his wife about his extracurricular adventures.” Kelly smiled. “I think he was more afraid of his wife than he was of me.”

  “Really?”

  He shrugged. “She’s pretty big. Bigger than I am.”

  Mandy giggled and his smile softened.

  The waitress returned and filled his cup. She didn’t even look at him.

  “What happened to the woman you both liked?” Mandy asked.

  “Oh. She married a butcher and moved to Reading.”

  For some reason this terse bulletin intensified Mandy’s giggle.

  “Where they’re both knee deep in steaks, I suppose,” she said, wondering if she were losing it.

  “You look so much better,” he said abruptly, watching her. “I was worried this afternoon when I first got to you, Mandy. You looked like death on a dinner plate.”

  “I feel so much better, thanks to you. It was nice of you to bring me here.”

  “I’m not that nice,” he said softly.

  Their eyes met across the little table.

  Mandy’s cell phone rang.

  “I should get this,” she said to Kelly. “I was supposed to meet my father for dinner. He’s probably worried.”

  Kelly nodded.

  The call was not from her father. It was from Tom.

  Kelly rose as soon as he realized who was on the phone. He settled the bill promptly. Mandy made short work of the call but he was already standing in the aisle, waiting for her.

  “Let’s get out of here before another member of my fan club shows up,” he said darkly. He stood back to let her precede him and she carried his jacket over her arm as they left.

  The drive to her condo was conducted in almost total silence. Mandy realized that the call from Tom had disturbed him. It was as if they had both forgotten that Tom existed and the ringing cell phone had reminded them.

  Mandy wished Tom hadn’t called. Kelly had been so unguarded and engaging, almost talkative, before the phone call. Now he was silent. He steered the cruiser through evening traffic efficiently, speaking only to ask directions. When they got to her complex Mandy introduced him to the security guard at the gate and Kelly followed her up to her apartment. When they reached her door she handed him his jacket.

  “Thanks for letting me have that,” she said.

  He took it and shrugged back into it. His face was closed. It was as if someone had flicked a switch and he had shut down.

  Where did you go, Kelly? Mandy wondered plaintively. Come back.

  “I want to apologize again for my behavior after that accident,” she said quickly as they stopped outside her door, working up the nerve to speak in the face of his detached silence.

  He threw up his hands. “Will you stop already, Amanda? You don’t have to say anything else. I understand. That was post traumatic stress. You had a horrible experience five years ago and the incident today just brought it all back. That’s the way it works. The first trauma never really leaves you and anything similar happening afterward can trigger those memories.”

  “You know about it?” Amanda asked, looking at him closely.

  He met her gaze, then looked away. “Yes,” he said briefly, in a tone which indicated he didn’t wish to discuss it further.

  Mandy studied him as he leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets, waiting for her to say goodbye. She wanted desperately to ask him inside, even if it was only to keep him with her for a few moments longer. But she was certain she would make a mistake if she did. She didn’t want to be added to his list of conquests, she didn’t want to ruin the partnership her father and Manning had taken such trouble to arrange.

  And she didn’t want to die at the hands of a stalker if Kelly could prevent it.

  Amanda unlocked her door and as it swung open they both heard a loud thud come from inside the apartment.

  Kelly grabbed Amanda bodily and shoved her behind him, so forcefully that she rocked on her heels. He yanked his gun from his shoulder holster and put his finger to his lips, silencing her.

  “Stay here,” he mouthed to her.

  Amanda’s heart began to pound as she obeyed him and remained in the hall while he went inside and crept around the apartment, his gun drawn. She hadn’t realized that such a sizeable man could be so quiet as he moved around stealthily. The only sound she heard was the occasional protest of the floorboards under the carpeting. She was starting to sweat when his voice came from the direction of her bedroom.

  He said in an amused tone, “Hey, Amanda? You can come in now.”

  She ran inside to find him standing next to her bed and holding one of the framed pictures from her wall in one hand. As she watched he shoved his gun back into its holster with his other hand.

  “Here’s our stalker,” he said dryly. “Think I should put him in cuffs?”

  He was holding a photo of Amanda with one of the pandas from the Bronx Zoo, a picture taken when she was eight years old. Her mother had had it blown up, matted and framed to add a whimsical touch to her décor.

  “Very cute,” Kelly added. “You, I mean, not the bear.”

  Mandy closed her eyes in relief.

  “It fell off the wall and hit the floor,” Kelly added. “That’s the noise we heard. I think the hanger on the back is broken. We must have shaken the picture loose when we opened the door.” He bent and leaned the picture against the wall, then moved to join her at the entrance to the hall.

  Mandy looked at him and their eyes met. She was biting her lips trying not to laugh but she was losing the battle.

  “Oh, go ahead,” he said, grinning. “Detective Kelly on th
e prowl, I know, very funny. If you have any dangerous panda pictures preparing to jump you, I’m your man.”

  Mandy broke down and laughed openly as he joined her. She leaned her head against his shoulder weakly as they both chuckled at the absurdity of the situation and she thought, He’s back. Wherever he went when that phone call came, he’s back. She felt his hand cup the back of her head and press her face against his coat gently. When she moved away to look at him he was gazing down at her, his smile fading.

  He’s going to kiss me, she thought. Her lips were parting in eager anticipation when he stepped back suddenly and said, “I should go. I just wanted to make sure your place was clean. You’ll be all right now.” He moved toward the hall in a surge of activity that seemed close to flight.

  “Thank you for everything,” she said, as he went through the door.

  “Call me on the cell if there’s any problem,” he said to her as he left. “I’ll see you in my office on Monday.”

  Amanda watched him go wistfully.

  Each time he left her she felt more alone.

  * * * * *

  Kelly went back to the cruiser and tore off his jacket, balling it up in frustration and tossing it onto the back seat of the car. Amanda had worn it for several hours and it was now permeated with the scent of her perfume, reminding him of her constantly.