V is for Vengeance (Kinsey Millhone 22)
By 10:00, she was showered and lying naked on a double chaise longue on the deck at the beach house, protected from view by the half wall and the darkly tinted glass windbreak above. The sun felt extraordinary on her skin. She sensed the tension draining out of her, and without even meaning to she fell asleep.
She was wakened by a rustling and opened her eyes to see Dante, also naked, sitting on the chaise next to hers. He had her handbag at his feet and her passport in his hand.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Memorizing the number on your passport. I can do that when I put my mind to it. It’s like taking a picture.”
“Where’d you get my passport?”
“It was in your bag. Why keep it with you, are you going someplace?”
“I picked it up at the bank the other day and forgot to leave it at the house. Why are you going through my handbag?”
“It seemed rude to ask how old you are so I thought I’d see for myself.”
She smiled. “My age is no secret.”
“Now it’s not. March 15th. The Ides,” he said. “Here’s something you probably don’t know: The Ides refers to the 15th of March, May, July, and October. Refers to the 13th of all other months. My birthday’s November 13th, so that’s the Ides, just like yours.”
“Meaning what?”
“Nothing. I just think it’s interesting,” he said.
He returned the passport and moved forward until he was kneeling on the deck. He placed his mouth on her breast. She made an involuntarily sound, low in her throat, as the heat opened her at the core. The two of them moved into their lovemaking with an ease that suggested they’d been together for years. There was an intensity she couldn’t remember ever experiencing, and she gave up all sense of herself, responding with a tenderness that matched his.
Afterward they showered together and then wrapped themselves in terry cloth bath sheets and returned to the deck. Dante had brought a bottle of Champagne and two crystal flutes, and they toasted their own joy. It felt wicked to sip Champagne at this hour of the day. “Almost forgot,” Dante said. He got up and went into the bedroom, returning moments later with a handful of travel brochures he dropped into her lap.
“What are these?”
“The Maldives. That’s where I’m going when the time comes. Maybe the Philippines, I haven’t decided yet. I brought brochures for both because I thought you might like to see them.” He sat down on the edge of the chaise and loosened his towel.
She opened the first brochure, which showed photographs of the Maldives, teal and aquamarine waters with islands like stepping-stones spread out across the sea. She sent him a curious look, wondering how serious he was. “I thought you were under indictment. They’re not going to let you go out of the country.”
“Just because they won’t let me doesn’t mean I won’t go.”
“Aren’t they holding your passport?”
“I’ve got another.”
“What if they intercept you at the airport?”
“They can’t intercept me if they don’t know. I’ve got a fortune in offshore bank accounts. I’ve been planning this for years.”
She held up the brochures. “Why the Maldives? I don’t even know where they are.”
“The Indian Ocean, two hundred and fifty miles southwest of India. Temperatures run between seventy and ninety-one year round. They don’t have extradition treaties with the U.S. There are other choices—Ethiopia or Iran, if you’d prefer. You like Botswana, I’ll throw it in for laughs.”
“What in the world would you do with yourself?”
“I don’t know. Rest. Read. Eat. Drink. Make love to you. Study the language.”
“Which is what?”
“Don’t know yet. I’ll find out when I get there. I’ll have Lou Elle call you with the details, but only if you’re coming with me. Otherwise, the less you know, the better.”
“You think I’d go?”
“Why not? There’s nothing keeping you here. All you need with you is an overnight case. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Let’s talk about something else.”
“No problem. I understand you need time to consider. I’m laying it out so you know what we’re dealing with.”
“You know I’m not going.”
“I don’t know that and neither do you.”
She sat up, pulling the towel around her. “Don’t turn this into something it’s not.”