Chapter 25 A Lonely Man is a Dangerous Thing

The first person Bobby saw when he walked back inside was AJ Wainwright. He had a beer in each hand and appeared to be waiting for Bobby.

"Here," said AJ, handing Bobby one of the beers. "I think you need this. Amy's upstairs in Laura's old room with Patty and Leslie."

"Thanks," Bobby said. He took a long pull on his beer, then met AJ's gaze. "Is she okay?"

"I won't know until Patty comes back down and tells me."

Bobby looked at AJ curiously.

AJ took a swig of his beer and swallowed before he replied to Bobby's inquiring look. "When they get like this, I stay away," he said with a wry smile. He clapped Bobby on the shoulder. "I'd stay away, too, if I were you." He walked away, headed toward the kitchen.

Bobby began to move slowly around the Edwards' living room. He noticed several family pictures and picked one up to study it. He recognized Laura and her parents, but only assumed the two others, a man and a woman, were relatives. Both looked similar to Laura, the young man nearly identical to Dennis.

"That's Denny, Jr.," came a husky female voice. Bobby turned to his right to find himself staring into the green eyes of the young woman standing next to Laura in the picture. "Hi," she said, extending her hand to Bobby. "I'm Judith, Laura's older sister. And that," she pointed to the young man in the picture, "is our brother, Denny, Jr."

"I'm Robert," he said, shaking the woman's hand. She was cool as a cucumber, her wavy brunette hair perfectly styled and her make-up impeccable. Judith was about 5'6", just coming up to his shoulder, and her figure was luscious; not too thin and not too full. When she spoke, her voice reminded him of Lauren Hutton or Kathleen Turner: deep, husky, seductive and inviting. Bobby thought she was a slightly darker version of Laura, but more aloof. The Laura he saw in all the pictures was bright and smiling with dancing eyes while Judith was more….Bobby searched for a word to describe her but kept coming back to aloof, with a cool beauty; almost snobbish but not quite.

"Treys' father," Judith stated, giving him an appraising look. "And Amy didn't snatch you up and marry you because…" her voice trailed off and a single eyebrow rose in a silent question.

"Because…you would have to ask Amy." He studied her intently as he took another sip of his beer. "You look very familiar. Have we met before?"

"I don't think so. I would definitely remember meeting someone as handsome as you," she told him flirtingly.

Bobby ignored the alarm bells that began going off in the back of his head and continued to rack his brain for an elusive memory.

"I know who you are," he said excitedly, waving a long, elegant finger at her. "You're that writer, oh, what's her name?"

Judith suddenly grabbed his shoulder and wheeled him around towards the front door. "Shh," she chided as she continued to guide him out the door and onto the front walk. "Out here." She led him over to a swinging bench situated under a large oak tree in the front yard.

"We can talk about it out here." She settled herself on the bench and turned her body, leaning in to expose her ample cleavage for Bobby's perusal. "Now, isn't this better," she purred at Bobby.

The warning bells were really clanging loudly in his head, making it hard for him to think, but Bobby pressed on. "You are, aren't you?"

She smiled a very Cheshire cat-like smile at him.

"Am I right? Are you Jaye Wardd the writer?"

"Guilty as charged," she said with a laugh, raising her hands in surrender. "How did you know? I never put my picture on any of my books and I rarely make public appearances."

"The Market Street signing ten years ago; your second book. It's one of my favorites."

"Why thank you. It's always nice to meet a fan. I can't believe you remember me from way back then," Judith gushed. "I only did one more signing after that. It was just so much easier and simpler not to be so public. I enjoy the anonymity."

"You haven't written any new books lately," Bobby commented.

"No, I haven't. I started one when Laura was pregnant, but she was so depressed and having so much trouble after Hudson was born that I put it aside to help her. I didn't really need the money, so I put her and the rest of the family first. Then, I guess I just lost interest. But after meeting you, maybe I'll write a story about the big, hunky detective who solved my sister's murder," she told him. Her look was now one of pure sexual interest and invitation, and Bobby found himself being drawn in by the attention and the fawning. It had been a while since he truly felt wanted, and Judith clearly wanted him.

She ran her hand suggestively up and down his arm, and asked him how long she was planning on staying. "Eames -- she's my partner on the force -- brought me out here. I'm kinda stuck here without a ride back."

"I can give you a ride home. I need an excuse to get out of here, anyway," she told him, her eyes clearly communicating to him just why she now wanted to leave.

"I live in Brooklyn; but you don't have to take me home. Trey has already said he'll drive me back," he returned her look of longing and attraction, having already silenced the warning bells in his brain. He'd be damned if he'd ignore the overt signals of want and desire that this incredibly beautiful woman was clearly sending in his direction.

"Trey will be too busy with Hudson and my parents to even notice we've left. You stay here while I run inside and grab my purse." She squeezed his thigh, then got up and headed back inside for her purse.

When she came back out, Bobby was standing by the porch steps waiting for her. "I really should say my goodbyes to Trey." Seeing her look of protest, he shushed her with a finger to her lips. "I'll be careful; he'll never know it's you who's taking me back." He gave her a wink and a smile and re-entered the house.

They had a lively discussion about her novels on the way to Bobby's house. She was appreciative of his intelligent insight into her characters and settings. He was pleased that she wanted his insight into the inner workings of a detective's mind and a police force such as the NYPD. He found her charming and their conversation scintillating. She found him incredibly attractive and extremely desirable.

As they pulled up in front of Bobby's apartment, he faced a dilemma of sorts. All the way home, in addition to their wonderful conversation, he had recognized the movements of the ritual mating dance, having participated in many a dance himself on those lonely nights when he had gone down to the corner bar looking for a cure for his loneliness. On one hand, he found Judith to be very attractive, and very willing; on the other hand, she was the sister of his late daughter-in-law. Not to mention the fact that they had left the post-funeral gathering early, and he hadn't exactly been truthful as to who was taking him home.

"Well, here we are," said Judith, parking the car and turning in her seat to face him.

"Thank you for the ride," Bobby said awkwardly. "It was nice meeting you."

"Thank you," she told him. She reached over and placed her hand softly on Bobby's thigh. "You made a boring gathering quite exciting. It's not often I meet such an enthusiastic and knowledgeable fan of my books." She smiled at him, then leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his full lips.

When her lips touched his, Bobby groaned inwardly. Part of him wanted, needed, and craved this kind of attention. He was lonely, confused and hurt and he leaned in towards her and deepened the kiss.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The phone was ringing. Bobby groaned, rolled over in his bed and grabbed the receiver. He grunted.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Bobby sat up in his bed and rubbed his sleep-filled eyes. "Who is this," he asked.

"It's Trey. Do you have any idea what your leaving with Judith yesterday did to Mom?" The young man's anger was palpable and it reached through the receiver and grabbed Bobby's attention.

"Wha – wait a minute. How do you know I left with Judith? I never told anybody she was taking me home," Bobby said, very confused now. His head was pounding and his stomach felt queasy; he recognized that he had a hangover but the how and the why were presently escaping his memory.

"Mom saw you." When Bobby didn't respond, Trey explained further. "Mom was upstairs in Laura's room with Leslie and Patty. She just happened to be looking out the window onto the front lawn and saw you get into Judith's car." Trey's voice dripped with disgust and disdain when he spoke Judith's name.

Bobby sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm a fan of her books; we were having a nice discussion and she offered me a ride back into the city. I knew how busy you were, tied up with family and friends and all, and I didn't want to bother you. What's the big deal, anyway?" Bobby spoke softly so as to keep his head from pounding so loudly and in an effort to calm his angry son.

"What's the big deal," Trey yelled into the phone, sending Bobby's head into paroxysms of pain. How much had he had to drink, anyway, he wondered. He didn't have time to wonder for long, as Trey continued his angry tirade. "The big deal is she's my sister-in-law. She also happens to be a man-eating slut who'll sink her claws into any willing male form, especially if she thinks it'll work to her advantage. Laura hated her. She even came on to me. Where is she? Is she with you?"

"No, she's not with me. She brought me home and then she left," Bobby told him. At least, I think she left, he thought next. I don't really remember what happened last night. "Look, I'm sorry Trey. I didn't know. She just seemed like a nice person who wanted to help. I had no idea, so just calm down and quit yelling. I'll go see your mother today and apologize. Let me make it up to you; I'll treat you to lunch if we're still on? Please?"

It was quiet on Trey's end of the line, and Bobby hoped he was still on the phone. He could barely hear Trey breathing and when he finally heard his sigh, Bobby knew he was still there.

"I don't…" Bobby heard Trey start, then stop, then inhale deeply, as if to gather up his courage for what he was about to say next. Bobby suddenly felt nervous.

"I don't…" Trey tried again, but was unable to get the words out.

"You don't, what, Trey," Bobby asked him gently. Something in Trey's tone of voice had cautioned Bobby to be gentle with the boy.

"I, I… I don't know what to call you," Trey suddenly blurted out. He immediately felt ashamed, but couldn't take the words back, so he felt them hanging in the air between them.

Bobby didn't know quite what to make of that. It wasn't the question he had been expecting, but it was a good question. A very good question and one which suddenly explained the awkwardness that he had been sensing was lying just beneath the surface of his recent encounters with Trey.

"What do you want to call me," Bobby asked softly.

"That's just it; I don't know. I mean, you're technically my father, but you don't feel like you're my "dad", ya know? And calling you Robert just seems so formal, so maybe, for now, I could just call you Bobby?"

"Bobby would be nice; for now," Bobby told him. He smiled at the thought that maybe, just maybe, some day Trey would call him 'Dad'.

"Okay, Bobby," Trey said hesitantly. "I'm sorry I yelled at you; you were right, you couldn't have known about her and I shouldn't have been so hard on you. It's just that you made Mom so mad and upset, and well, I'm the man in her life. I have to take care of her and see that she's okay, you know? And, well, you messed that up yesterday. I'm sorry I didn't handle it very well."

Bobby could hear the chagrin and honest remorse in his son's voice. "Apology accepted, son. Thank you. So, are we still on for lunch? My treat."

"Sure. Where do you want to go?"

"Chinatown. I know a place where they make the best eggrolls you've ever eaten."

"I'm more of a dumpling man, myself, but I'm up for eggrolls. Especially if you're buying."

Bobby gave Trey the name and address of the restaurant and they settled on a time. After hanging up the phone, Bobby sat on the side of the bed with his head in his hands and tried to get his bearings. His headache was really bad, so a trip to the bathroom for some aspirin and to take care of his morning business was in order first. He realized as he climbed out of the bed that he was dressed in his pants that he had worn to the funeral and his white undershirt. His jacket, tie and socks were on the chair next to the dresser; his shoes were on the floor next to his chair.

He emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later and headed towards the kitchen. Coffee. He needed coffee and the stronger the better.

He came to a dead halt upon entering his living room. Judith was here. Here? That didn't make any sense, yet there she was, sound asleep on his sofa under a pile of blankets. He rubbed his hands through his hair and scrubbed his face as he continued to shuffle into the kitchen. As he quietly went about the task of putting a pot of coffee on to brew, he tried to remember the events of the previous day.

He had kissed her in the car. Correction, she kissed him first, but he did kiss her back, and quite enjoyably, too. Then he had pulled away and said he couldn't do it. She had looked at him, hurt at first, but then understanding dawned. Amy. And Trey. And being Trey's Dad and Laura's father-in-law, and Oh, my God what was I thinking…..Both had sat in silence and contemplated what they had done and almost done.

Finally, Judith had broken the silence by extending to him a peace offering of sorts. She offered to autograph each of her books in his collection. Bobby couldn't let an opportunity like that get away from him, so he had invited her up.

Signing the books had led to more discussion, and Bobby had offered her a drink to go along with the conversation. She was a Scotch drinker, and soon the two of them had had several rather large Scotches and were laughing and having a good time. He couldn't remember who had mentioned being hungry first, but the sight of the empty pizza box on the counter reminded him that they had eaten at some point. Then he remembered they had watched a movie; he couldn't remember which one, but he did remember her sitting next to him and that he kept dozing off.

That's right, he remembered now. He kept dozing off and she insisted he go to bed. He had stumbled down the hall to the linen closet and fumbled around getting her a pillow and a blanket. After several clumsy, drunken attempts, she had joined him in the hall where together, and with much drunken giggling, they had managed to pull out several blankets and a pillow. He vaguely remembered offering her his bed, but she insisted on taking the couch. She must have won that argument, because there she was, asleep on his couch, and he had woken up in his bed.

But did they sleep together? Bobby began to wrack his brain for that answer. He knew they'd had several more drinks after getting her the pillow and blankets, the empty bottle and the glasses in the sink were evidence of that. She's going to have one hell of a headache, too, Bobby thought wryly as he picked up the bottle and placed it quietly in the trash. That's the biggest bottle of Scotch they had in the store, and it was unopened when we started drinking out of it.

He turned to walk out of the kitchen and almost ran into her. She was looking very sleepy and very hung over. He did notice she was very dressed; still wearing the clothes she had on at her parents' yesterday afternoon.

"Do I smell coffee," she asked him, yawning and stretching her arms up over her head.

"It'll be ready soon," Bobby told her. "Do you need some aspirin? We drank quite a bit last night."

"Some aspirin would be nice," she said. "I'm glad you've got quiet neighbors." She smiled wryly.

"Trey called," Bobby said, letting it hang in the air as he went down the hall to get the aspirin.

She was sitting on the couch when he returned. She had gotten a glass of water. She looked at him apologetically when he handed her the bottle. "I'm so sorry. Was he mad?"

"Furious. Yelled at me and accused me of sleeping with you. I told him I didn't know where you were. I thought you had dropped me off and gone home, then I came in here for coffee and found you asleep on the sofa." He sat down next to her.

"What exactly did happen last night," Bobby asked. "I remember you signed my books, we got into another discussion; a great discussion, by the way. We're going to have to do that again sometime. Anyway, I remember the books, then I offered you a drink. I know we ordered pizza because there's an empty box on the kitchen counter. And judging by the size of the empty Scotch bottle I threw in the trash, you and I had quite a lot to drink, because I do clearly remember opening that bottle."

"We didn't sleep together," she stated.

"And you know that how?"

"Because, I would never have fallen asleep on your couch if we had. We'd still be tangled up together in your bed, naked. And, neither one of us would be hung over today, because that's not how I like to do things. I figured out in the car that you weren't going to allow anything to happen. But, I knew you were hurt and lonely, so I figured you could use the company. So, after I get a cup of coffee in my system, I'm going to help you put away the pillow and blankets, and leave."

They enjoyed pleasant conversation over coffee, with Bobby getting Judith to share some her stories and memories of Laura with him. He could tell from her expression and tone of voice that she had loved her sister deeply and would miss her dearly. He could also see some of what Trey saw in Laura and wished he had been able to know her.

Judith thanked him for the coffee and for a fun evening. "That was one of the most fun evenings I've ever had with a man that didn't involve sex," she told him with a husky laugh. "Did Trey tell you I was the family slut? Well, he's partly right, I am family." Bobby laughed with her. "I am going to hold you to another book discussion. I have a group that I meet with monthly. You'll have to come with me sometime. They'd love to hear your insights."

She grabbed her purse, slipped on her shoes and slipped out the door.