“Very special,” he said, his voice softening. “I’ll really miss him.”
“He was ill already, you said.”
“Yes,” he said. “I knew he wasn’t long for this world. I just wanted to make his last few months the best they could be.”
“And the best that they could be for you too,” she said in a dry tone.
He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I don’t miss him.”
“No, I’m sure you do.”
“I’ll replace him,” he said suddenly, knowing that question was coming up. It always did.
“Don’t you think,” she said, “maybe it’s time to walk away from your hobby?”
“No,” he said. “I just don’t want a long-term guest again. It really hurts to lose them.”
“Well, if it hurts you, think about what it’s doing to all the families.”
He’d no civil answer for that one.
Even now he smiled, as he walked along the beach. It was nice to talk to her about it; it was nice she understood. She was the only one who would. It made him feel not so alone. And he kept telling himself that he really didn’t want to have another guest for a while. He still felt the effects of Jason’s death. And it really did hurt.
It wasn’t fair; Jason had been so young and so innocent and had only wanted to have a decent life. But, of course, with his parents, that was a whole different story. They hadn’t looked after him; they didn’t deserve him. They should have taken him to specialists and made sure he got the help he needed. But they hadn’t cared enough. How sad was that?
At least he’d cared, so, in the end, Jason hadn’t died alone.
*
Saturday Morning
Simon woke upSaturday morning and stretched slowly in bed. The sheets slid gently across his smooth naked skin, making him feel luxuriously awake, as he slowly registered the fact that he’d actually slept last night. It was his third—no, fourth—peaceful night after visiting the police station. Maybe that’s all it took. Maybe he only needed to talk to the cops to have it all off his shoulders. Smiling, he sat up, wondering what he wanted to do for the day. When he’d gone to bed last night, he’d deliberately not made any plans, wondering if he would have a decent night or not.
Then he looked over and found he wasn’t alone.
He glared down at the woman, wearing just panties, sprawled across his bed. He shook her shoulder. “Annalise, what are you doing here?”
She raised her head with a jerk, blinked, and let her head crash back down again. “Oh man,” she said and then yawned.
“What are you doing here?” he repeated.
“You said I could stay.”
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t. Hell, I was alone when I went to bed.”
“Well, you would have,” she said, rolling over and pulling the sheet over her shoulders. “You just didn’t let me work on you hard enough.”
“How did you even get in here?” He searched the cobwebs of his mind but didn’t remember seeing her. He ripped the sheet off her and said, “Get up, get dressed, and get out.”
She sat up and glared at him. “Why are you such a grouch in the morning?”
“Maybe because you weren’t invited last night.”
She got up and stormed into the bathroom.
He didn’t even care. He just wanted her gone. He cast his mind back to last night, but he was damn sure that she hadn’t even been in his awareness. He frowned, as he wandered his small apartment. Her clothing was laid out across the nearby chair and on top was a key,hiskey. What the hell?
When she came out of the bathroom, still in just her panties, she walked over, pulled her dress up and over her head, and slipped into her heels.