The Tower

Jade's eyes glinted as Travers raised her hand and traced the scar on his cheek down to the thin stream of rainwater dripping off his lips. Grabbing his head with both hands, she banged it against the wall, seizing his lower lip in her mouth and feeling the water run from his mouth into her own. Her hands were at his belt and then he was out and in her hands and her mouth went to his neck.

He lowered her onto the damp field, holding an arm in the small of her back to break her fall. His knees sank in the ooze and mud between her legs, and the water stood out in beads on their bare skin as buttons and material gave way. Travers's shirt was soaked and torn, her hair matted with mud, her elbows buried in mounds of soil. Thrusting forward, Jade entered her.

He froze. "Holy shit," he said.

Travers's nails stopped tracing their red paths up his back. "What?"

"The radio. The disk jockey. He said the symphony fund-raiser dinner was tomorrow night. Darby said they always used to go as a family. Allander will be expecting them to be there."

Both seemed to have forgotten that Jade was still inside her. Without hesitation, he pulled himself out, quickly stood, and ran for his car. Travers immediately dug herself from the mud and followed, yanking together the ripped remains of her clothing. The car was moving when she got there and she had barely jumped in before Jade sped away.

Once they were on the freeway, he looked over at her mudtangled hair, her tattered garments, her smeared face, and started laughing. She tried not to smile but couldn't resist, and then they were both laughing, almost uncontrollably. Travers reached over and painted a line of mud on Jade's cheek with her finger. Her smile faded, her lips pursing ever so slightly, just enough to betray her thoughts.

Jade took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at her. "Jennifer, huh?" he said gently.

She nodded.

He glanced at the clock and the softness faded from his face. He took 85 to 17 and exited in San Jose, racing over curbs and through red lights.

He berated himself for not thinking of the fund-raiser earlier. Closing his eyes, he remembered the drum roll opening the classical piece he'd heard when he'd interviewed Thomas in the living room. Darby's story about the fund-raiser dinners. Charity. Our road back to sanity.

The shower had ended by the time the BMW squealed to a halt at the Atlasias' home. The FBI agents down the block were out of their cars before they recognized Jade.

The door swung open to reveal Darby's startled face. She looked at Jade's clothes and the mud shot through his hair, and then at Travers's ripped shirt.

"Oh. No thank you. We didn't order a stripper," she said, and feigned shutting the door.

"Are you going to the symphony dinner tomorrow night?" Jade asked.

"Of course we are."

Jade put his hand on the door and pushed it open. "Then we have to talk." He brushed past Darby and into the house. Travers waited outside, a procedure they had discussed.

"Well, Jade Marlow, before you floor me again with your plans and calculations, there's something you need to see." Darby pointed to the kitchen.

On the kitchen table was a second envelope. Same block print. Jade reached inside and pulled out a lipstick container.

"We got the mail about a half hour ago," Darby said from the doorway. "I just left a message on your machine."

"Speak no evil," Jade said softly.

Darby raised her hand and let it clap to her thigh. "What's next?" she said, her voice cracking in a mock laugh.

Jade looked up at her, holding her eyes for a moment. "Probably an earring," he said.

"How…" Her words trailed off into a silent sob before she regained her composure and continued in a horrified whisper. "How can you stand this? Day in, day out." Her voice rose angrily. "How can you deal with it all day, every day? When you don't even have to?"

"Because that's what I do, all right?" Jade replied sharply. His voice rang around the room. He looked down at the floor sadly, tracing the pattern of the tiles. "That's what I am," he said softly.

When he raised his eyes to meet Darby's, he was surprised by how suddenly pale she was. She staggered to the side as if she were about to faint, leaning on the table for support. Pulling herself erect, she squared her shoulders, her eyes lit with their familiar determination.

"Darby. Are you all right?" Jade asked, genuine concern in his voice.

She nodded, then turned and left the room.

Jade started to follow her, but stopped when he got to the doorway. Although time was of the essence, he could give her a few minutes. He sat down and turned his eyes to the clock on the microwave. Five minutes. He could give her five minutes.

She was standing at the edge of the square lawn with her back to the house. She appeared to be gazing at the neat rows of flowers and plants that constituted her garden. Jade approached her cautiously and halted next to, but slightly behind, her.