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1
After the murder, they made love in front of a video camera. When it was over, her mouth was bruised. He had long scratches across his back. They lay side by side on their backs, gasping for breath.
"Jesus!" he said, his voice hoarse.
"Yes," she whispered.
She moved into the compass of his left arm and rested her head against his chest. They lay silently for a while, not moving, waiting for oxygen.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you too," she said.
He put his face down against the top of her head where it lay on his chest. Her hair smelled of verbena. In time their breathing settled.
"Let's play the video," she whispered.
"Let's," he said.
The camera stood beside the bed on a tripod. He got up, took the tape from it, put it in the VCR, got back into bed, and picked up the remote from the night table. She moved back into the circle of his arm, her head back on his chest.
"Show time," he said, and clicked the remote.
They watched.
"My God," she said. "Look at me."
"I love how you're looking right into the camera," he said.
They watched quietly for a little while.
"Whoa," she said. "What are you doing to me there?"
"Nothing you don't like," he said.
When the tape was over he rewound it.
"You want to watch again?" he said.
She was drawing tiny circles on his chest with her left forefinger.
"Yes."
He started the tape again.
"You know what I loved," she said. "I loved the range of expression on his face."
"Yes," he said, "that was great. First it's like, what the hell is this?"
"And then like, are you serious?"
"And then, omigod!"
"That's the best," she said. "The way he looked when he knew we were going to kill him. I've never seen a look like that."
"Yes," he said. "That was pretty good."
"I wish we could have made it last longer," she said.
He shrugged.
"My bad," she said. "I got so excited. I shot too soon."
"I've been known to do that," he said.
"Well, aren't you Mr. Dirty Mouth," she said.
They both laughed.
"We'll get better at it," he said.
She was now rubbing the slow circles on his chest with her full palm, looking at the videotape.
"Ohhh," she said. "Look at me! Look at me!"
He laughed softly. She moved her hand down his stomach.
"What's happening here?" she said.
He laughed again.
"Ohh," she said. "Good news."
She turned her body hard against him and put her face up.
"Be careful," she murmured. "My mouth is sore."
They made love again while the image of their previous lovemaking moved unseen on the television screen, and the sounds of that mingled with the sounds they were making now.
--from Stone Cold: A Jesse Stone Novel by Robert B. Parker, copyright © 2003 Robert B. Parker, published by G. P. Putnam's Sons, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., all rights reserved, reprinted with permission from the publisher.
