Bad Moon Rising - Page 25

He hugged the box to his chest the way I imagined the doctor in Nome hugged the medicine when Balto the Husky made his run carrying diphtheria serum through a blizzard to the snowed-in Alaskan town.

Vick left, and I watched him through the window as he drove away, chomping on a handful of chips.

Hondo turned to Archie and me, “I told her. She’s grateful for the news, but asked that we keep trying to find Bodhi.”

“We plan to,” I said.

“We will,” Hondo said.

~*~

Later that evening I drove to Amber’s apartment and as I approached her door I heard music coming from inside. Linda Ronstadt, singing Desperado. I knocked, and after a second, Ronstadt’s voice faded, then the door opened. Amber wore an old, faded green tee shirt cut off above her navel. On the front were two shamrocks and a smiling leprechaun between them. She had on gray cotton sweatpants cut up high like short shorts, and no shoes.

She threw her arms around my neck and said, “Hey sailor,” then she kissed me for a second before hurrying into the kitchen to stir something in a pot. She called out, “You okay with salmon and wild rice?”

“You bet.”

She pointed at a bottle of wine as she lifted a half-full glass to her lips, took a sip, then winked at me and said, “It’s good.”

I got a glass from the cabinet and filled it halfway before moving behind her. I told her about our day while she squeezed a blood orange in the pan. She turned to hug me. “I’m sorry you have to see things like that, Ronny.”

“Part of the work.”

“I understand. But I hate that you have to experience it.”

“A bite of that salmon will heal me right up.” I kissed her neck.

She turned to the stove and said, “I don’t have a table, are you all right with eating at the bar?”

“I’d eat on the floor if we need to.”

She flashed me that wide, white smile and said, “It’s ready.”

After we ate, we sat on the couch and talked about things. She grew up in Oxnard, and moved to L.A. when she was eighteen to become an actor. She had been in a half-dozen feature films, small parts, and some Indie shorts, but no big roles yet.

I asked her if she was SAG-AFTRA, and she said yes. “Would you like to meet Sylvia Artell?” I asked.

She said, a little sad, “I’ll wait until Bodhi is back. She’d said she wanted to take me to Sylvia, she told me I had that intangible something that producers love.” She blushed.

“Bodhi’s right.” I put my hand on her arm, “We’re going to find her, and I know Sylvia will be crazy about you.”

Amber blushed again, then kissed my cheek. “My gorgesome guy.”

We kissed some more. Things were getting heated up when a knock on the door stopped us. “Ignore it,” I said.

“I can’t do that,” Amber said. She pecked me on the lips and said, “Keep your motor running.”

It was Hondo. Amber squealed with delight and hugged his neck. I said, “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

Hondo said, “Juan Luna called. We need to go, he’s in trouble.”

Amber didn’t give me a chance to say anything before she said, “You have to go.” I stood and she came to me, melting her amazing body against mine as she gave me a kiss that put everything she had in it. When she pulled back, she said, “I’ll be here when you finish saving people. Now go.”

Then she slapped me on the butt as I passed her on the way to the door.

Hondo filled me in as we left in his Mercedes, “Juan said those black guys are after him.”

“What for?”

Tags: Billy Kring Mystery
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