shrug.
He led her to his Land Rover. Once they were inside, Heron just sat behind the wheel,
staring through the window in front of him. His voice was flat when he finally spoke. “Where do
you live?”
“I want you to take me back to my club. It’s on Fourth, east of the Highway 101. Turn
left after the parking lot.”
Heron turned his head and stared at her in the dark. Then, without a word, he started up
the car and drove out of the parking lot.
It was short drive, only two miles from the station, but it was a short drive that was filled
with tension. Heron did not look or talk to Riley, but kept his eyes resolutely on the road, his
profile grim and forbidding. She knew he was angry with her, very angry by the way he seemed
to be seething in his silence. She knew part of it was that Roberta, and Tanner, had forced him to
come down here to get her out of jail late in the night. But something else was driving his fury,
she sensed, but she had no idea what it could be.
Riley did not speak either, except to give him occasional directions. One time, when
Heron was starting to make a left turn when she had instructed to the right, she, without thinking,
put a hand over his that was holding the steering wheel to guide it. Heron hissed and snatched his
hand away as if he had been burned and turned his eyes, which were hot and furious, to her.
“Don’t touch me,” he rasped out between clenched teeth. “Don’t you ever touch me. Do
you hear? Ever!”
Riley pulled back in her seat, startled, and a little frightened at the venom in his eyes and
voice. “I…I’m sorry. I…I was just trying…Okay. I won’t touch you again. I’ll make sure I won’t
ever touch you in the future.”
For rest of the drive, Heron settled into a sullen silence, and Riley sank into her seat with
a sense of unease.
It was with some relief for her when the Land Rover pulled up in front of her club. But
when he stopped the car, she sat in her seat for a moment, not quite sure what to do. She looked
out the window at her club. All the lights were out and closed up for the night.
Then she offered, “I don’t think I thanked you for getting me out of the jail.”
He didn’t answer for a long moment but stared in front of him. Then he turned his head
towards her, as if he was remembering his manners. “Are you going to be all right?”
“Yes. I’ll be fine from here on out.”
Riley had her hand on the door handle but did not open it, but stared out the window as
he was doing. She felt she hadn’t quite done her duty to Heron and that she couldn’t walk away
from him until she had. But she didn’t know how to go about fulfilling that obligation, because
he was so much making himself unavailable to her.
Then she found herself saying, “Would you like to come in for a moment?”
Heron didn’t answer for a long time but continued to stare out the window. Then he
turned and gave her an expressionless look, and said coolly, “Sure, why not.”
Riley stared back at him, wondering why she offered him in and why he accepted. Then
shrugged and unlocked the door. Inside, she turned on the light switches so that only the main
bar and lounge area was softly illuminated. Heron stopped only a few feet at the entrance and
watched the long white curtain of fringes swing against her legs as she walked to the bar,
providing flashes of her bare buttocks. Then he turned and surveyed the club, taking his time.
Riley asked, “Would you like a drink?”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It’s the least I could do for you for pulling me out of jail.”
“Alright. Sure, I’ll have a drink.”
She retrieved two tumblers from the shelf. “What’s your choice?”
“Scotch.”
“I’ll assume you only drink the very best. I have some high brands locked back here, but
those might not be to your taste, either.”
“Johnny Walker Black is fine.”
Riley poured the liquor in both glasses and gave one to him.
Heron took a sip of his scotch, his eyes, broodingly, on Riley, looking over her heavy
make, the long riotous curls that still sparkled with glitter underneath the lights, pulled back by a
black ribbon tied in a bow at the temple. “You look like a whore,” he suddenly said in a low,
harsh voice.
Riley lifted her eyes over the tumbler, shocked at his words. The hostility that he had
always felt towards her was no longer veiled beneath the pretense of civility that he had always
presented when others were present. Alone, Heron no longer felt the need to hide it from her.
A look of amused mockery came over her face as she lifted a sardonic eyebrow at him.
“Thank you.”
She drained her scotch and poured more into her glass. She set the bottle in front of
Heron.
She leaned back against the bar and eyed him beneath lowered lids. “What have you got
against sex?”
“Nothing. I just believe it has, like everything else, its own place and time.”
“If you’re trying to be correct and not sound priggish at the same time, you’re failing
miserably. Shame on you. How old are you? Thirty-five? You’re old enough to know by now
that sex has its own time, its own nature, its own place, its own reasons for existing, its own
rhythm, its own drive. It’s a drive that is so strong in human nature, that it can’t be brought to
heel or be shaped into conformity. That’s why sex websites have the most hits, by far more than
any other types.”
“Just because it’s part of human nature, why should it be given a free for all? The need to
destroy or kill is also part of human nature. But society has come to an agreement that those
drives do need to be contained.”
“For the most part, sex doesn’t destroy or kill.”
“Funny, but many people seem to want to take it to the edge where their need for certain
type of sex pushes them to the brink of destroying parts of their lives.”
“Oh, I see. So you see my little sex club as allowing people to do that. The members have
little strange ways of getting themselves off, ways that they can’t share with everyday people,
such as their friends and family, because those little ways are taboo, or not considered as normal
sexual appetites. In case you haven’t figured it out, those so-called normal sexual appetites, such
as the nightly coital interchange between a couple, are determined by society.”
Heron poured himself another glass of scotch. “As much as you want to deny societal
determinants as unimportant in the long run, then it’s you who is being naïve. You know just
how dangerous it is to flout the mores and norms. Tonight, I would think, was a prime example
of that for you.”
“I wouldn’t call a fanatical evangelist as normal”
“For something not normal, such people have tremendous power in society.”
“Exactly my point on sex.”
Heron gave a small cold smile before he drained his scotch. “It seems every conversation
I have with you I’m being checkmated. That’s not good for my ego.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about your ego. There’s plenty of it that a few chips here and there
won’t ground it to a halt.” Riley said the comeback in jest, but then she saw his eyes going flat
and narrow slightly, and she felt her breath catch, and wondered if he had not been trying to warn
her.
“Mr. Wait…”
“I think you better start calling me by my name, Ms. Calderon, as I should start calling
you by yours. Riley.”
“I’m not quite sure I can do that. You’re so imposing of a man, both in personality and
physically, that something about you demands a formal address. You know, the way one will
always address the American president, even when he is not the president, or as one always
addresses an agent of the church.”
“I’m afraid you will have no choice in this matter, Ms…Riley.”
“You’re right. Heron. As I was saying, Heron, I hope that whatever and however
numerous faults that you find in me, I hope they do not affect how you feel for my sister.”
“I think I can safely say that I’m not that much of a moral prig. For one thing, you and
Roberta are so unalike, almost the opposites. And, yet, it puzzles me that you and she are so
close.”
“We’re not as far apart as you think. We both believe in family, relationships. We’re both
pretty loyal to people we love. We have similar values, similar views. It’s just our two natures
are very different. I’m pretty critical of the world, and she wants to think the very best of it.
Where I can be pretty reserved and offputting, she has a sunny nature, is very loving, readily
accepting of others, overlooks the faults of others and only sees their positive side, even in
pitbulls, is very warm, kind, gentle, generous, extremely patient, would never wantonly hurt
another. And I’m…Well, I’m me. Now, I’ve not been around your family much, but I get the
impression that if you’re close to anyone, it would be your brother. And I’d say you and he are
like water and oil.”
“Like you said, family ties are very strong. When you live and grow up with someone for
so long, what is there to do but to love them.”
Riley looked at him in surprise. “Wow! I believe that’s the first human thing I’ve heard
you say since I met you. But I might ask you the same question. You and my sister aren’t exactly
two peas in a pod. You’re…intense, very ambitious, very strong both mentally and emotionally,
and you don’t suffer fools very easily. I would think someone like Robbie would seem like milk
sop to you. I find it rather difficult to figure out what it is you see in her that makes you think
that she is the one for you.”
Heron’s mouth with its full, sensuous lower lip twisted wryly, almost self-deprecatingly.
“I’m no different than other men, Ms. Calderon. Why shouldn’t I want some of that warmth and
generosity that is Roberta for myself, just as the next guy?”
Heron drained his glass, set it down and walked out of the bar, leaving Riley to stare after
him.
“Huh. Score one for him,” she said softly.
CHAPTER SIX
A few days later, a week before the wedding, on a Sunday afternoon, Riley was going
over her books at her club late afternoon, sitting at the bar, her fingers rapidly ten-keying the
calculator. Joe was cleaning down the bar, going over his inventory. Wafting from the kitchen
were smells of garlic and spices as the chef prepared meals for tonight’s small crowd. Neither
did Riley nor Joe flinch when the chef would every once in awhile rain his displeasure at an
under chef.
The phone rang and Joe automatically answered it. He then held the phone out to Riley.
“It’s your sister, Riles.”
“Hey, Robbie,” Riley said, continuing her calculations. “What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing much,” Roberta said offhandedly.
“Nothing? That doesn’t sound right. I would think you’d be in the middle of a storm of
preparations.”
“I’m taking a break, right now. And I thought I’d call you.”
“I hope you’re not calling me to discuss baby breaths versus green fronds.”
“No, no, nothing like that.”
There was silence from Roberta. Riley stopped her ten-keying. “Robbie, is everything
alright?”
“Yes, it is. The reason why I called…Well, I wanted to ask you a question.”
“Yes,” Riley prompted when her sister didn’t continue.
“Well, you know how I’ve always known what I wanted in life. Right? I mean, I knew
what degree I wanted to get in college, I knew what I wanted to do as a career, which company I
wanted to work for. I mean, you and I are both that way, aren’t we? And we both have been
successful in getting what we want. We set a goal, we focus our energy on that goal, and we
work to get where we want to. Right?”
“Robbie, what are you getting at?”
“Have you ever gotten to a point where you stop, and look back at everything you’ve
done, and suddenly, you don’t quite know what it is that you’ve done? You don’t know where
you are? And, suddenly, you’re not too sure what it was that you were working for?”
Riley frowned for a moment. “Robbie, what are you talking about? Is there something
that you did that you’re not too sure about?”
“No. It’s just…I don’t know, Riley. This is all getting so complicated. This wedding is
getting so much bigger than I had ever imagined. Did you know that I have no idea what the
flowers are going to look like at the church? Or what meals we’re serving at the reception? I
don’t even know if Hildegaard did pick the polka band.”
“Well, then fire her, and tell her you’ll take over.”
“I can’t. It’s too far along for me to let her go. I wouldn’t even know where to pick up if
she left.”
“Well, you only have one more week of this nightmare. After next Saturday, you can hire
an assassin and dispatch him, or her, on the wedding nazi while you’re on your honeymoon in
the Riviera.”
“I just wish…I have to admit, Riles, I kind of wish I could postpone the wedding a bit.”
Riley tried to get her mind around what she just heard. “Robbie, are you by any chance
having second thoughts?”
“No, no, no,” Roberta said in a rush. “That’s not it at all. It’s just this all happened so
fast, and I…No, Riles, I’m not having second thoughts, at all. Listen, can you just forget that we
ever had this conversation.”
Riley laughed. “What conversation?”
“Exactly. I’m just having pre-wedding nerves, that’s all. I’ll see you at the dinner on
Friday.”
Before Riley could say anything, the line went dead. She stared at the phone then
shrugged and went back to her figures.
On Wednesday, just after noon, Riley was deep asleep when she was slowly dragged to
consciousness by a distant thumping sound. Still half drugged with sleep, she lifted her head
trying to locate the sound. Then she realized that someone was pounding on her door downstairs.
Groggily, she pulled herself out of bed, grabbed her robe, slid her feet into her slippers, and
made her way down the stairs.
The pounding was incessant and very aggressive, and a deep male voice on the other side
of the door was demanding, “Open up, damn it! I know you’re in there. Open up! Open up!”
“Christ, hold your horses, will you,” Riley snapped back as she struggled with the dead
bolt lock.
As soon as she twisted the door knob, it was shoved back and Heron pushed his way into
the house, making Riley stumble and bump against the wall. She almost cringed when he loomed
over her like a some avenging god-like figure. She did press back against the wall when he took
a threatening step closer to her and shoved his face closer to hers. There was a wild look in his
dark eyes, his hair tousled. His whole body quivered with barely suppressed violence.
“Where is she?” he demanded, his jaw hard and set.