Her face swam in front of his eyes. He closed his eyes, but the image did not fade.
I did the right thing. I did the right thing. I did the -
His eyes flew open. Panic filled him. He had to find her, had to tell her he did not mean any of it. He was about to swivel his chair, turn, and run for her when he felt something metallic push against the back of his head.
A coldness rippled through him.
‘Bastard.’
The gunshot shattered the still air.
1
June 17, 1989
Laura opened the window and felt the gentle tropical breeze refresh her naked body. She closed her eyes as the palm trees’ cool wind made her skin tingle. The muscles in her legs still quaked. She turned back toward the bed and smiled at David, the man who had put her legs in this precarious position.
‘Good morning, Mr Baskin.’
‘Morning?’ David repeated. He glanced at the clock on the night-table, the day silent except for the crashing of the waves outside the window. ‘It’s well into the afternoon, Mrs Baskin. We’ve spent almost the entire day in bed.’
‘Are you complaining?’
‘Certainly not, Mrs B.’
‘Then you won’t mind a little more exercise.’
‘What have you got in mind?’
‘How about a swim?’
‘I’m spent,’ he said, sprawling back against the pillows. ‘I couldn’t move if the bed was on fire.’
Laura smiled seductively. ‘Good.’
David’s eyes widened with awe as she slowly strode back toward the bed, remembering the first time he had seen that body, indeed the first time the world had seen that body. It was almost a decade ago and a full eight years before they met. Laura had debuted as a seventeen-year-old cover girl on Cosmopolitan wearing a – ah, who the hell saw the dress? He had been a junior at the University of Michigan at the time and he could still recall the way the mouths of every member of the basketball team dropped when they saw the issue on a news-stand in Indiana before their Final Four game.