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singing The Impossible
Dream. More like a recitation. Amy couldn’t sing.
    A crack of light appeared in the
doorway nearest him. He backed away into the kitchen area. How was he going to
approach this woman so that she wouldn’t be frightened of him, Todd Coleman,
murder suspect and now guilty of breaking and entering?
    There she was in front of him.
Todd placed a hand over her mouth and grabbed her from behind. He heard her
snort and felt her wet hair brush against his chin. He pulled her in close to
his body, his hand spread across the nubbiness of the towel. His thumb traveled
up to gauge the fullness of her breasts underneath. Nope, they weren’t fakes,
he concluded.
    “Easy, Amy, I’m not going to
hurt you,” despite what you’ve read in the afternoon press, he silently added.
    As far as he could tell, she was
talking a mile a minute in muffled tones under his palm. Would she bother to
listen to him at all?
    “If you stay real quiet I’ll
explain why I’m here.”
    Todd’s body moved to the side to
avoid a jab from Amy’s elbow. Next she was trying to beat on his shin with the
heel of her foot.
    “Good grief, Amy, I’m way bigger
than you are. If I had wanted to hurt you I would have done so already. I just
want to explain my predicament to you.”
    She quieted. He certainly couldn’t
trust her not to yell, but how could he gain her confidence if he held her like
this?
    “Listen, can we have a truce? I’ll
take my hand from your mouth if you promise not to scream and if you’ll give me
a chance to tell my story.”
    Again, muffled noise filtered
from between his fingers.
    “Hell, if you’re asking me to let
go of you completely, I don’t know whether I want to do that.”
    She became a frenzy of jabbing
and kicking.
    “Okay, okay. I was joking. I’ll
let you go. You agree to the terms?”
    Todd had to wait a few seconds
for the nodding of her head.
    Please, Lord, make her keep her
word, he prayed, letting his grip slowly slacken. When free, Amy spun around to
glare at Todd.
    “How the hell did you get into
my apartment?”
    “Those old locks aren’t hard to
pick, Amy.”
    “Yeah, well, I keep meaning to
replace it. It came with the apartment.”
    “Not good safety practice to use
a former tenant’s lock. Can never tell who they know.”
    “You were acquainted with them?”
    Todd shook his head. Amy’s flesh
was flushed right down to the roll of towel mid-way down her bosom. Her hands
reached up and pulled the pale peach terry cloth further up over the fullness
of her breasts. He wondered what her legs looked like.
    “How ‘bout we go sit on the
couch and talk?”
    “I talk better with clothes on,
Mr. Coleman.”
    “I can’t let you go walking off
to the bedroom alone.”
    He saw her sparse brows furrow
into a frown.
    “I’d say we were at
logger-heads, Mr. Coleman, because I’m not about to sit down completely naked
with a—”
    “Suspected murderer.”
    Briskly she nodded.
    “How about I give you my jacket,”
he said, pulling the jacket from his shoulders.
    “Are you kidding? That may take
care of the top half, but it will hardly cover my... the rest of me.”
    Todd pulled his jacket back on.
    “You’re quick,” he said.
    Amy threw him a disgusted look.
    “Okay, do you have a robe or something
like that to put on?”
    “In the bedroom.”
    “Well, then, why didn’t you put
it on before you came out here?”
    “Because, Mr. Coleman, I didn’t
expect company.”
    “You eat in the nude?” The idea
conjured up some pleasant visuals inside his head.
    Amy sighed.
    “I was going to switch on the
television before I got dressed. I wanted to hear whether there was any news on
your where—”
    Todd smiled and spread his arms
out wide away from his body.
    “And here you are. Yes, I know,”
she moaned.
    “Let’s compromise, Amy. I’ll
walk you into the bedroom and turn my back while you quickly slip into a robe.
On condition that you don’t try to bop me on the head, or