The Palm Beach Murders by James Patterson (best novels in english .txt) 📗

one of the co-op apartments. A classic neo-Gothic building, it was the first residential skyscraper in the world. Fabulous old apartments. BJ’s is renovated, with a spectacular bedroom view of the UN headquarters and the East River from the twenty-sixth floor.

I grab a taxi out on 11th Street. Don’t want to waste a minute getting up there.

Chapter 26

The security guy behind Bonnie’s reception desk recognizes me and waves me on to the elevators. Up on twenty-six I ring BJ’s doorbell and there she is, opening the door, slowly, to reveal her full, gorgeous, sexy…naked self.

Takes my breath away. Always does.

“Hi, Timmy,” and she leans in to me with a soft, lingering, open-mouthed kiss. “How nice to see you.”

“How nice to see you, too,” is all I can come up with.

“Come in, love, I have something I think you’ll enjoy,” she says, and leads me by the hand over to the couch where we sit down. She torches the weed in her pipe, takes a toke, and passes it over to me.

“It’s some of Ramon’s finest.…” she reminds me.

Perfect.

We’re in no hurry. No need to be. Besides, there’s nothing like making love when you’re high.

I’m about to be saved by a beautiful, talented woman, who will make us both forget the madness around us. Nothing else will matter, for a while anyway.

We kiss. The high is taking hold. Mouths open, tongues searching. We kiss again, and she unbuttons my shirt and caresses my chest. Has me totally under her spell. Then it’s my jeans, and the rest of it, and there we both are, fully revealed.

This time I lead her by the hand, into the bedroom. We turn down the covers and lay facing each other, and pull the other close. There’s a rush of blood and a flash of light until finally, we lay back on the bed, gazing into each other’s eyes.

She lights up her pipe for another hit and passes it over to me, and we linger in the moment for a while. I’m starting to think none of this tragic shit matters, that it will all blow over.

A delusion that’s only going to last another few hours…

Chapter 27

Bonnie Jo rolls her naked self back over to me. “Hey, love, why don’t you just stay here tonight, with me? I really don’t want you to go.”

“Neither do I.” She’s absolutely irresistible. “It’s almost eight o’clock. Let me see. I’ll be right back.”

I grab my cell phone and step into the kitchen to call home, without a stitch of clothes on.

“Not again,” Jean answers.

“Afraid so, honey. We are totally jammed on this new business pitch. I’m not going to get out of here until who knows when. I’m afraid I won’t even get to leave until two a.m. or something, so I’m going to grab a room at that bed-and-breakfast down the street.”

“Oh, dear. Good thing they’re paying you the big bucks.”

“Thanks for understanding, baby. I hope. Anyway, kiss the kids good night for me—tell them tomorrow night we’ll have dinner at that place they love, Pizza Pizazz.”

“Okay. Be careful. We’ll be here. Love you.”

“Love you. Bye for now,” and on the way back into the bedroom I get a text from Barb Lundquist, the recruiter—she’s sure no nine-to-fiver.

Hey Tim—Linda wants to see you again, 8 AM tomorrow! Possible? Landmark Diner, Grand/Lafayette. Let me know ASAP when you get this.

Can’t say it’s perfect timing. But I tap a quick response.…

Count on it. Thanks.

By midnight Bonnie Jo and I are spent, physically, emotionally. No more weed. We climb in the shower together and hold each other there for a good while, close and soapy under the steaming hot water.

She gets out first and is drying herself when I absolutely blow it: “Hey Tiff—Bonnie!—hand me a towel, baby?”

“What the hell did you just call me? Fucking Tiffany?”

She totally loses it, shrieking, with fire in her eyes.

“You two-timing asshole!”

Now I’ve blown it. How do I tell Bonnie Jo that she’s not the only other woman?

“Jesus, baby…we were just talking about her, it was a slip of the tongue.”

“Bullshit!!” She’s not buying it. “You goddamned psycho!”

It takes everything I’ve got to calm her down. And now I’m stuck here the rest of the night.

I sleep on the couch. Doesn’t help.

Chapter 28

My iPhone alarm buzzes at six thirty. Set on vibrate. No sound.

I slip off the couch, headed for the shower, trying not to make any noise. I see through the cracked open bedroom door that Bonnie hasn’t moved a muscle since I left her in bed last night.

Showered and shaved, I put on a fresh shirt and underwear out of the hall closet, where I keep a few things for just such occasions.

Normally I’d leave a note or something. But after the blow-up last night we are by no means normal, so I slip out the front door and take the elevator down to the lobby.

The Landmark Diner is back downtown, below the agency. I take a cab to save time and Linda’s already there, waiting for me. We have another great chat over breakfast and I insist on picking up the check this time.

At least, I feel like it was great. But truth is I don’t remember a whole lot about our conversation. My fight with Bonnie Jo is weighing heavily on me; we’ve never had that kind of trouble before.

To think that I could possibly lose her hurts like hell.

Chapter 29

I get to the agency by nine thirty, close enough, but not before I go by the bank, again.

Up on the third floor Mo greets me. “Morning, Tim. Paul wants to see you right away. He’s in his office.” The president is after me early.

“Hey, Paul, good morning,” I greet him, sliding open the glass door.

“C’mon in, Tim, and close the door, okay? We need to talk. These murders are terrible, unbelievable. The only way we’re going to be able to deal with it is by being frank with each other.”

“Of course, man. What’s up?”

“I need to