Read Online Moon Music by Faye Kellerman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Faye Kellerman
Ads: Link
made himself a meatball sandwich with dark mustard on thick sourdough, poured himself a glass of orange juice. He ate slowly, hoped that the water would stop. Of course, it didn't.
With reluctance, he got up from the table, went into the bedroom.
Their bedroom.
Into the bathroom.
He opened the shower door, reached inside. The water had turned cold and Alison was shivering. He turned off the taps, placed a bath towel around her shoulders, and led her back into her bedroom, placing her in front of her dresser mirror. Carelessly, she let the towel fall to the floor.
Poe took in her nakedness, tried not to react. He held out her robe, then averted his eyes.
After a moment, she accepted it, slipped it on. Observing herself in her looking glass. She picked up a brush and began ripping into her hair. "I look like shit."
"You look gorgeous."
"I can't figure it out. No matter how long I run on that damn thing, I still have these big, fat thighs!" She pounded her flesh for emphasis. "Like saddlebags."
"You're as thin as a cat's tail. Shame on you for buying into that anorexia shit."
"Don't yell at me."
"You're overdoing it. It's not healthy."
"Can you kindly leave so I can get dressed?"
Poe paused. "All right, I'll leave. But if I hear the water running—"
"Stop it!" She threw her towel at him. But she was smiling now. And a beautiful smile at that. "Go make yourself useful."
"By doing…"
"Make some coffee."
"Where's your family?"
"Steve took the boys out for dinner."
"When did they leave?"
Alison gave him a slow, seductive look. "You're allowed to be here even if he isn't. I'm not chattel."
Poe wasn't too sure about that. "I'll make some coffee."
She joined him just as the pot had finished brewing. Dressed in a loose black tunic over black leggings. Her face was awash in an after-exercise blush, her blond hair combed and pulled back in a ponytail, emphasizing perfect cheekbones. Two gold studs decorated her earlobes. Her lips were coated in something pink and wet.
He poured two mugs of coffee: they sat at the kitchen table. The house was ranch-style, a decent-sized thing on a generous lot which held a pool. It had a formal living room and dining room off an entry hall. The back part of the home was made up of an enormous kitchen, a breakfast area, and a den—the true living room of the house. At the moment, it was a bit messy—a stack of old papers, a couple of discarded items of clothing, a dirty dish on the coffee table. But Poe had seen it worse. The bedrooms were on the left side of the house—three of them.
"Why are you here?" Alison asked.
"Just to say hello."
"Yeah, right." She sipped coffee. "You've got that look in your eyes. What do you want? Besides to sleep with me. The answer is no."
"Alison, when was the last time I asked you to sleep with me? Like twenty years ago?"
"Try six months ago."
"What are you talking about?"
"You kissed me, Rom."
"Alison, it was your birthday—"
"Not a chaste kiss. You gave me tongue."
"You gave me tongue."
"I don't want to talk about this, Rom. Just drop it!"
Poe didn't respond. Instead, he began drumming his fingers against the tabletop.
Alison put her hand over his to quiet his fidgeting. "Steve was really working last night, wasn't he?"
"Yes."
"A corpse in the desert."
Poe eyed her. "He told you?"
"Occasionally we do talk. He was very upset by it. Did he know the woman, Rom?"
Poe shook his head no.
Alison studied him, scrutinized him. "You've become very hard to read."
Poe said, "It was an awful case. She was…messed up."
"Stabbed?"
Poe didn't answer.
"Just spit it out, Rom. I won't melt. He slept with her, right?"
Poe said, "Alison, do you remember the Bogeyman case?"
Anger coursed through her heart. Fiercely, she glared at him. Poe paled at her fury. "Wha…wha…what'd I say?"
Knowing she was irrationally angry, Alison softened her expression. "You don't remember, do you?"
He thought: Oh God, what nerve did I touch this time?
The
With reluctance, he got up from the table, went into the bedroom.
Their bedroom.
Into the bathroom.
He opened the shower door, reached inside. The water had turned cold and Alison was shivering. He turned off the taps, placed a bath towel around her shoulders, and led her back into her bedroom, placing her in front of her dresser mirror. Carelessly, she let the towel fall to the floor.
Poe took in her nakedness, tried not to react. He held out her robe, then averted his eyes.
After a moment, she accepted it, slipped it on. Observing herself in her looking glass. She picked up a brush and began ripping into her hair. "I look like shit."
"You look gorgeous."
"I can't figure it out. No matter how long I run on that damn thing, I still have these big, fat thighs!" She pounded her flesh for emphasis. "Like saddlebags."
"You're as thin as a cat's tail. Shame on you for buying into that anorexia shit."
"Don't yell at me."
"You're overdoing it. It's not healthy."
"Can you kindly leave so I can get dressed?"
Poe paused. "All right, I'll leave. But if I hear the water running—"
"Stop it!" She threw her towel at him. But she was smiling now. And a beautiful smile at that. "Go make yourself useful."
"By doing…"
"Make some coffee."
"Where's your family?"
"Steve took the boys out for dinner."
"When did they leave?"
Alison gave him a slow, seductive look. "You're allowed to be here even if he isn't. I'm not chattel."
Poe wasn't too sure about that. "I'll make some coffee."
She joined him just as the pot had finished brewing. Dressed in a loose black tunic over black leggings. Her face was awash in an after-exercise blush, her blond hair combed and pulled back in a ponytail, emphasizing perfect cheekbones. Two gold studs decorated her earlobes. Her lips were coated in something pink and wet.
He poured two mugs of coffee: they sat at the kitchen table. The house was ranch-style, a decent-sized thing on a generous lot which held a pool. It had a formal living room and dining room off an entry hall. The back part of the home was made up of an enormous kitchen, a breakfast area, and a den—the true living room of the house. At the moment, it was a bit messy—a stack of old papers, a couple of discarded items of clothing, a dirty dish on the coffee table. But Poe had seen it worse. The bedrooms were on the left side of the house—three of them.
"Why are you here?" Alison asked.
"Just to say hello."
"Yeah, right." She sipped coffee. "You've got that look in your eyes. What do you want? Besides to sleep with me. The answer is no."
"Alison, when was the last time I asked you to sleep with me? Like twenty years ago?"
"Try six months ago."
"What are you talking about?"
"You kissed me, Rom."
"Alison, it was your birthday—"
"Not a chaste kiss. You gave me tongue."
"You gave me tongue."
"I don't want to talk about this, Rom. Just drop it!"
Poe didn't respond. Instead, he began drumming his fingers against the tabletop.
Alison put her hand over his to quiet his fidgeting. "Steve was really working last night, wasn't he?"
"Yes."
"A corpse in the desert."
Poe eyed her. "He told you?"
"Occasionally we do talk. He was very upset by it. Did he know the woman, Rom?"
Poe shook his head no.
Alison studied him, scrutinized him. "You've become very hard to read."
Poe said, "It was an awful case. She was…messed up."
"Stabbed?"
Poe didn't answer.
"Just spit it out, Rom. I won't melt. He slept with her, right?"
Poe said, "Alison, do you remember the Bogeyman case?"
Anger coursed through her heart. Fiercely, she glared at him. Poe paled at her fury. "Wha…wha…what'd I say?"
Knowing she was irrationally angry, Alison softened her expression. "You don't remember, do you?"
He thought: Oh God, what nerve did I touch this time?
The
Similar Books
