The Crimes of Jordan Wise Read Free Page A

immediate. The first two things I noticed were her size and how much hair she had. A couple of inches over five feet tall, so that I had to look down into her face; hair the color of dark honey and worn in a thick feathery wave the way Farrah Fawcett wore hers in Charlie's Angels, the top-rated TV show that year. Then: Nice smile. Lightly tanned and freckled skin. Brown eyes, heart-shaped face, a bump of a nose with a slight upward tilt. Slender body, small breasts, slim legs. White dress with a red flower pinned to it, and a string of pearls at her throat. It was minutes before I realized just how well her features blended into a harmonious whole, that she was close to being beautiful.
     
    Usually I was at a loss for any kind of clever repartee; I don't think well on my feet. But that day I managed to summon a reasonably bright response.
     
    "I was lost," I said, "but now I'm found."
     
    "What? Oh," she said, and laughed. Nice laugh. Rich and deep, not one of those tinkly giggles that some small women have. Then her eyebrows pulled together and she said in serious tones, "Did you mean that Uterally?"
     
    "Literally?"
     
    "What you said about being found. The way it's meant in 'Amazing Grace.'"
     
    "You mean am I religious?"
     
    "If you're a born-again . . ."
     
    "I'm not. Being born once was enough."
     
    "Good. I have a problem with Holy Rollers."
     
    "I'm sorry to hear that."
     
    "As long as you aren't one." She smiled again. "You know, this is a pretty odd conversation."
     
    "I guess it is."
     
    "Not that I mind. I find odd appealing—up to a point."
     
    "Is that why you came over to talk to me?"
     
    "No. Because you looked like a lost stray."
     
    "I don't deal well with crowds," I said.
     
    "Shy?"
     
    "You could say that."
     
    "I'm just the opposite. Outgoing. I love parties, the bigger the better." She sipped from the glass she was holding. "Champagne, too. But I think I've about had my limit. What's your limit?"
     
    "One or two glasses. I'm not much of a drinker."
     
    "Mine's five or six. This is number six."
     
    She was a little drunk, I realized then. There was a flush across her cheekbones, and the brown eyes had a glaze.
     
    I asked her if she was a friend of the bride or groom, and she said, "Neither. Friend of a friend who went to school with the bride. You?"
     
    "I work for the same company as the groom."
     
    "Which company would that be?"
     
    "Amthor Associates. In the city."
     
    "That's an engineering firm, isn't it?"
     
    "Yes." I didn't tell her what I did at Amthor and I was glad she didn't ask. Some people equate being an accountant with being dull, uninteresting, and the fact that I fit the stereotype embarrassed me in situations like this. "What do you do?"
     
    "I'm a buyer for Kleinfelt's. The department store. Well, assistant buyer. Women's lingerie."
     
    "That sounds interesting."
     
    "Actually," she said, "it's a pretty shitty job."
     
    I didn't know what to say to that.
     
    "Bad Annalise," she said. "Six glasses of champagne makes me say and do things I shouldn't."
     
    "Annalise. That's an unusual name. Euphonious."
     
    "What's that, euphonious?"
     
    "It means pleasing to the ear. What goes with Annalise?"
     
    "Bonner. Is your name euphonious?"
     
    "I doubt it. Jordan Wise."
     
    "You're right, it's not. Are you a wise Wise?"
     
    "Not as often as I'd like to be," I said.
     
    "Me, either. Who is? Well, Bert is. Thinks he is, anyway."
     
    "Who would Bert be?"
     
    "The fellow I came with. But he seems to have disappeared."
     
    "Boyfriend?"
     
    "Jury's still out on that. Why? Are you interested?"
     
    "Yes," I said. Bold. And I'd never been bold before. She brought that out in me right from the first. "I'd like to see you again."
     
    "Are you asking me for a date?"
     
    "Lunch, dinner, a movie, whatever you like."
     
    She thought about it, her head tipped to one side. "Well, maybe," she said. "Jury's still out on that, too."
     
    "When will there be a