S t u a r t W o o d s
“What else do you deal with?”
“We treat a few gunshot wounds now and then.”
“Yeah?”
“Usually in the foot, which is where people often shoot themselves. If somebody else shoots them, they’re often dead.”
“I know. I used to be a cop, and in New York people shoot each other somewhat more often than in Key West.”
“It must be interesting to be an emergency room physician in New York,” she said.
“I used to go out with one, until she married a doctor.”
“Is her job still open? I’m thinking of moving on.”
“
As far as I know, she didn’t leave her job. You’re thinking of moving to New York?”
“Why not? I was there once, and I liked it.”
“Annika, if you moved to New York, I would be dead in a month.”
She laughed. “No, I would keep you alive,” she said, fondling him. “I would chain you to the bed and fuck you until you were at the edge of death, then I would revive you with Swedish meatballs until you were ready again.”
“That’s pretty much what you’re doing here,” he said.
“I suppose it is. Oh, look, you’re coming up again.”
“I don’t need to look; I can tell.”
“Where would you like me to put it this time?”
“You choose.”
“I choose everywhere.”
“Again?”
“Again and again.”
Stone groaned.
“It’s just a figure of speech,” she said, throwing a leg over him.
“Wait a minute,” he said, but it was too late; he was already inside her. “How do you know Evan Keating?”
“I treated him in the emergency room,” she said, moving slowly. 9 4
L o i t e r i n g w i t h I n t e n t
“For what?”
“He said it was some sort of boating accident, but it was a knife wound.” She began moving faster.
“Who cut him?”