Murder Deja Vu

too fast and scaring you away. So I’m going to get up, put on my smelly clothes, and leave. Tomorrow I’ll bring a fresh change.”
    “Is that why we started in the shower?”
    He nodded.
    “I loved your man smell, but I loved being wet and soapy and slick, and I loved what happened after.”
    * * * * *
    E very afternoon, Dana crept out of her study to see the fireplace’s progression. The puzzle of rocks was an incredible sight. Each stone fit perfectly, no space between more than a coin’s width. Reece’s focus never waned until he finished for the day. Then he came into the study and started the lovemaking process the same way he had done the first day and every day since, only now they shared stories and thoughts. He massaged her shoulders and whispered in her ear. His breath, his words, his touch had such an erotic effect.
    “I never thought this feeling of elation would happen to me,” he said. “It’s not only the sex. This is so much more. I don’t know if you feel the same way, and I’m not asking you to answer, but I want you to know how I feel.”
    She ran her fingers through his hair. “I can’t get enough of you.”
    He kissed her with a passion he’d held back until that moment. Maybe it was the affirmation that she felt as he did. They made love under the steady stream of water, made love on the bed after, always with variation, exploring. He touched her all over with his fingers, his mouth, with his tongue. Whenever she asked about the scar, he said another time, so she stopped asking.
    She told him about her childhood; he told her a little about his. He was right. The first part of his life had been normal, even boring, with one hint of rebellion.
    “We were rich. Very rich. Against our wishes, my father sent my brother and me to a private school. We hated it there. The boys were snooty and arrogant. It didn’t take long for our grades to drop. Dad wasn’t happy, but he brought us home.”
    Then he told her about Harvard and how hard it was, consuming his every waking hour. A hardworking young man living the life expected of him—until a woman turned up dead in the apartment he shared with his brother, and Reece lay next to her in bed, unconscious, and soaked in her blood.
    Then began the second part of his life.

Chapter Six
Uninvited Guests

    A fter making love, Reece helped Dana make dinner. They ate and talked, not only as lovers but as friends. Whenever Dana had asked him to spend the night, he made some excuse why he couldn’t. She’d learned that he took his own time doing things, and she wouldn’t force him to stay if he didn’t want to.
    He called Saturday morning. “How about taking a drive? We can stop and have lunch somewhere, maybe rummage the roadside antique shops.”
    “As long as we take my Jeep. No offense, but your pickup–”
    “I know. You don’t want to be seen in it.”
    Dana laughed. “I’m more worried about it making the trip. Besides, isn’t it full of rocks?”
    “Point taken. Be there in an hour.”
    When he arrived, he kissed her. Nothing passionate, a buss on the lips as lovers would naturally do. They kept the conversation light during their trip: the glorious day, the food, and how relaxed they were, away from the daily grind. She couldn’t have imagined a better day.
    They got back to Dana’s around six. She opened a bottle of wine, and they talked and drank while she made pasta. After they ate, they made love. His touch never lost the magic of that first time.
    Dana had promised herself she wouldn’t pry, but she lay with her head on his chest and couldn’t hold back any longer. What did she have to lose? If he didn’t want to talk about it, he’d tell her.
    “Did you love the woman in Boston?”
    He looked as if he expected her question and didn’t hesitate. “I doubt I thought about love back then, not with the demands of my residency, but I liked her a lot.”
    He paused, whether to think or to summon his courage, she didn’t know.
    “We were a large group at a club that night. One of the guys, I don’t know who, made a crack that Karen—that was her name—had other lovers. His words weren’t as genteel. I wasn’t supposed to hear, but I did, and she saw I did. I asked her if it was true. She said we weren’t engaged, and until then, we were free to see whomever we wanted.” Reece stopped. “I remember the feeling of betrayal. I suggested we take a break until we knew what we wanted out of the relationship. But