Fat Tuesday
he ground his palm more firmly against her."Or what, Mrs. Duvall?"
    Pushing the words between clenched teeth, she said, "If you don't take your hand off me " "He was fucking you, wasn't he?"
    Unable to stand his touch another second, she shoved his hand away.
    "Leave me alone." This time when she made to go past him, he roughly took her by the shoulders and backed her against the support column.
    "That's why you were late for the party, right? Pinkie was screwing his brains out. If you belonged to me, that's what I'd do. Day and night.
    All the time, I'd be at you. One way or another."
    Lewdly, he rubbed his pelvis against her."You think Pinkie is good?
    Until you've had me, you don't know from good, Mrs. Duvall." He stuck out his tongue and wagged it obscenely, then dragged it across her neck.
    "It's only a matter of time, you know. I'm gonna have you." She swallowed her nausea and pushed against him with all her strength.
    She couldn't have physically overpowered him, he allowed her to push him away. When he stepped back, he was laughing at her attempts to stave him off.
    "If you come near me again " "You'll what? Well, speak up, Mrs. Duvall: What'll you do?"
    He placed his hand above her head on the column and leaned into her.
    His voice was taunting."You'll what? Tattletale to Pinkie?" He shook his head."I don't think so. If you told your husband I'd come on to you, he might blame you instead of me. He trusts me, see. And you do have a way of advertising the merchandise."
    He reached for her breast, but she slapped his hand aside."I won't bother telling Pinkie. I'll handle you myself."
    "Handle me?" he mocked."I like the sound of that." Her voice calm, eyes glittering as coldly as the gem around her neck, she said, "Mr. Bardo, are you under the misconception that you're the only killer-for-hire on my husband's payroll?"
    For a fleeting moment, his arrogant grin faltered and his dark eyes lost some of their gleam. Using that momentary lapse in his selfconfidence, Remy pushed him aside, and this time successfully escaped him.
    She walked quickly and purposefully up the pathway back to the house, hoping that Wayne Bardo couldn't see how unstable her knees were.
    Because, despite her boast, in a toss-up situation between her and Bardo, she wasn't sure whom Pinkie would believe.
    GAg Barbara was already asleep when Burke got home. He undressed in the dark, not wanting to awaken her. But when he got into bed beside her, she rolled toward him."Where have you been?"
    "Sorry I woke you up."
    "It's late, isn't it?"
    "A little after midnight."
    "Where've you been?" she repeated.
    "Working."
    "You told me Doug had given you the rest of the week off."
    "He did." He wished she would leave it there, but he sensed her unspoken demand for an explanation."I had to put some closure on it, Barbara. Isn't that the catchphrase these days? Closure?"
    She gave a little huff of disapproval."For God's sake, Burke, Kev Stuart's been dead for months. The verdict is in on Bardo's trial."
    "I know all that."
    "So get over it," she snapped.
    "It's not that easy."
    "It's not easy, but you're making it harder than it has to be."
    A dozen sharp retorts sprang to mind, but he held them back. He and Barbara had plowed this row countless times. He didn't want to plow it again tonight. Their arguments always left him feeling like he'd been wrung out and hung up to dry. He couldn't take another defeat today.
    In a more conciliatory tone, she said, "What happened to Kev was terrible. But the harsh reality is that policemen get killed. The risk goes with the job."
    "But it's pretty damn rare that a cop's own partner is the risk."
    "It wasn't your fault."
    "The jury must've thought so. In any event, they didn't blame Bardo."
    While subconsciously flexing his right hand, Burke envisioned Duvall's house, lit up like Shangri-La, flowing with liquor, and filled with food and fancy women."He and Duvall are having a big party tonight in celebration of killing a good

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