He paused, his face grim. “Sparacino and I agreed that he would refer to me as Mark in your presence. The rest of the time I was Paul. I worked for him. For a while I lived with his family. I was his loyal son, or at least this is what he thought.”
“I know Orndorff & Berger never heard of you,” I confessed. “I tried to call you in New York and Chicago, and they didn’t know who I was talking about. I called Diesner. He didn’t know who you were, either. I may not make a good fugitive, but you make an equally poor spy.”
He was silent for a moment.
Then he said, “The Bureau had to bring me in, Kay. You came on the scene, and I took a lot of chances. I got emotionally involved because you were involved. I was stupid.”
“I don’t know how I’m suppose to respond to that.”
“Drink your wine and watch the moon rise over Key West. That’s the best way to respond.”
“But, Mark,” I said, and by now I was hopelessly caught up in him, “there’s one very important point I don’t understand.”
“I’m quite sure there are any number of points you don’t understand and may never understand, Kay. We have a lot of life between us that can’t be spanned in an evening.”
“You said Sparacino sicced you on me to pick my brain. How did he know you were acquainted with me? Did you tell him?”
“He introduced you into a conversation right after we heard about Beryl’s murder. He said you were the medical examiner, the chief in Virginia. I panicked. I didn’t want him messing with you. I decided it would be better if I did it instead.”
“I appreciate the chivalry,” I said ironically.
“And you should.”
His eyes were on mine. “I told him we had dated in a former life. I wanted him to turn you over to me. And he did.”
“And that’s the whole of it?” I said.
“I would like to think so, but I’m afraid my motives may have been mixed.”
“Mixed?”
“I think I was enticed by the possibility of seeing you again.”
“So you’ve said.”
“I wasn’t lying.”
“Are you lying to me now?”
“I swear to God I’m not lying to you now,” he said.
I suddenly realized I was still dressed in a polo shirt and shorts, my skin sticky, my hair a mess. I excused myself from the table and went into the bathroom. Half an hour later, I was swathed in my favorite terrycloth robe, and Mark was sound asleep on top of my bed.
He groaned and opened his eyes when I sat down beside him.
“Sparacino’s a very dangerous man,” I said, slowly running my fingers through his hair.
“No question about it,” Mark said sleepily.
“He sent Partin. I’m not sure I understand how he knew that Beryl was ever down here.”
“Because she called him from down here, Kay. He’s known it all along.”
I nodded, not really surprised. Beryl may have depended on Sparacino to the bitter end, but she must have begun to distrust him. Otherwise she would have left her manuscript with him and not in the hands of a bartender named PJ.
“What would he do if he knew you were here?” I asked quietly. “What would Sparacino do if he knew you and I were together in this room having this conversation?”
“Be jealous as hell.”
“Seriously.”
“Probably kill us if he thought he could get away with it.”
“Could he get away with it, Mark?”
Pulling me close, he said into my neck, “Shit, no.”
We were awakened the next morning by the sun, and after making love again we slept entangled in each other’s arms until ten.
While Mark showered and shaved, I stared out at the day, and never had colors been so bright or the sun shone so magnificently on the tiny offshore island of Key West. I would buy a condo where Mark and I would make love for the rest of our lives. I would ride a bicycle for the first time since I was a child, take up tennis again, and quit smoking. I would work harder at getting along with my family, and Lucy would be our frequent guest. I would visit Louie’s often and adopt PJ as our friend. I would watch sunlight dance over the sea and say prayers to a woman named Beryl Madison whose terrible death had given new meaning to my life and taught me to love again.