Trevar's Team 1

by Kieran York

  I caressed the smooth gold of my new watch. With determination, I rededicated myself to solving the mystery. I had three strikes against me. First, my impatience. I was working with an incorrect motive of ego. Secondly, I hadn’t slept well. Fatigue and frustration can’t find the logic to save their soul. Those two reasons should have been enough to stop me cold. The third strike was self-evident. I planned to go alone into a dangerous situation. That way I would be risking only my own life by entering into a perilous situation. I’d only need to be concerned with my own backside.

  I was convinced there was incriminating evidence on Cruz’s boat. I was off to the inferno to find it.

  Unfortunately, my drive to the dock where The Turquoise Debra bobbed hadn’t convinced me otherwise. I parked my car what I believed to be a safe distance away from the slip where Turquoise Debra was docked.

  I’d only been aboard the vessel a few minutes when I located a bag of cocaine. I was not, however, after a stimulant stash. I’d let the authorities handle that one. Crouching down, I inspected the cupboard’s base. It was hollow but hadn’t been dusted in months, so wouldn’t be relevant even if it were hiding something.

  Suddenly, I heard a creaking noise. Turning, I reached for my gun. It was too late. My mystery tour was over. I faced Cruz’s glower. Her snub-nosed revolver was aimed at my head. Cruz moved the pistol around as if directing a symphony. I was a helpless violin player. And prudence required I play her tune. She motioned for Hammer to relieve me of my gun.

  “Sensor detectors are really great, ain’t they, Hammer?” Cruz asked with a laugh at her own joke.

  Hammer grunted her way to a laugh. Then she commanded, “Get your fuckin’ hands in the air or you’re gonna get your ass shot.”

  I wasn’t dumb enough to turn and wave my fanny at them, so my hands pitched skyward. “Okay, okay. Lead in the butt would likely cause a terrible case of constipation,” I replied.

  “Shut your mouth and reach higher,” Cruz directed with an abrasive laugh. “We’re gonna take a little float up the Intracoastal. I’m fed up with you!” Her anger was building. She sneered at me. “Wanna ride that’ll take us out to the big blue sea?”

  “Thanks anyway, but I don’t want to get seasick,” I declined.

  “You won’t be on the sea long enough to get sick,” Cruz mimicked.

  The implication was a sock in the shorts. I was to be taken a few miles out. Pitched overboard, and with lots of bullet lead to weigh me down, I’d sink in record time. “Cruz, you’ll be the prime suspect in my murder. You’ll be joining your sorry, simpleton brother in the slammer. Killing me is your ticket to the junkyard with bars.”

  “Nobody’s touchin’ me. And my brother will be comin’ out soon.”

  “That prospect ought to thrill society. But your brother is a turnstile criminal. He’s a punk, and you’re his junior.” I paused watching anger in her eyes intensify. Now I figured was the time to go for the confession. A confession spun from the security of knowing I’d never make it to the witness stand. I repeated, “A punk. Even if you committed one of the most notorious crimes of the century, you’re still a simpleton punk. Want to tell me why you killed Sylvia Grant?”

  Ignoring me, she handed her gun to the wrestler. She ordered, “Toss her gun overboard and keep this gun aimed at her. Bring her up to the helm with us. We can both keep an eye on her. As I remember, she’s slippery.”

  Walking slowly to the control room, I felt savaged by the fates. And I hadn’t even gotten a confession. “Rats,” I mumbled.

  Cruz readied the boat while Hammer grinned menacingly at me. She frisked me for a wire. The experience was no great excitement for me. She found no transmitter. The old busted mic routine worked only once per customer anyway.

  I began scouring the area for escape routes. Off ramps are limited by logistics. There was a wall of wrestler between the exit and me. I attempted to get a bearing. Staying alert for any possible pitch of the boat was crucial. Hammer had no intention of letting down her guard.

  When Cruz moved behind the wheel, I made the mistake of turning. A fist blindsided me. Hammer pounded me so hard that I bounced against the control board. While attempting to regain my balance, another blow landed in my midsection. I moaned when my ribs felt as though they might be caving in.

  “Hey,” Cruz commanded, “wait ‘til we get her away from the traffic.”

  Hammer lifted my body with her huge, bottle shaped arm and threw me on the barely-padded bench. My shoulder thudded as it slammed the window behind me. Crumpled, I gasped for air. Hammer’s thunderous threat was implied with a husky growl. She brushed off her ebony-colored leather vest. Skintight black denim clung to her fire-hydrant torso. I had no doubt she could stop a sixteen-wheeler with her rabbit punch.

  If I were to escape, it needed to be on the Intracoastal. Once we were out to sea, my fate was sealed. Verbal confrontation was my best way to create a diversion. I lectured myself that it would also mean at least one more smack from Hammer.

  Hammer’s eyes were vicious, tauntingly so. I opted for the outrageous. They wanted me to make a plea for my life. They weren’t going to get that. “Hammer,” I spoke, “tell me about yourself.”

  “Don’t be funny, asshole,” she spit words.

  “Levity can ease tension.” I realized by her bewildered face that my casual attitude was driving her nuts. My plan was to keep up the format.

  “We got no tension,” Hammer answered.

  Cruz laughed heartily. “Naw. No fuckin’ tension.” She was steering her way up the Intracoastal. She glanced back at me. Her eyes were fired up with enjoyment. “You got enough tension for us all.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” I said. Recalling what Summer had mentioned about Hammer’s anger over remarks about her hair while she was in the ring, my plan came together. Hammer very nearly went over the ring after the chiding spectator. I needed to produce that kind of anger. I suddenly giggled. “Hammer, what happened to your hair?”

  “Whataya talkin’ about?” she confronted me with bloodthirsty eyes.

  I needed to keep her occupied while I worked out what was to come after the diversionary tactics were used up. “Guess your last perm cooked your ends. Why don’t you try a good conditioner? It might get rid of those tangles.”

  “You mouthy bitch,” she seethed. “I’ll get you.”

  My only chance was to rattle her. While Cruz was at the helm and occupied, I had to get past Hammer. If not, I was destined to go into the big drink. Payment in full for my stupidity.

  “Hammer,” I began again, “a good hot oil treatment is the answer to your split end problem. The next big purse you win in the ring—take that money and splurge on a little hot oil.”

  She gave a saber-toothed laugh. “You ain’t gonna be seeing me again. So don’t worry about it.”

  “As long as I’m doing some beauty consultation,” I continued the insults, “you might want to have your teeth capped.”

  “What the fuck you talkin’ about?” Hammer demanded. Her face had become a hatchet.

  “They can cap your teeth so they aren’t so malicious looking.”

  She snorted, “I like rippin’ flesh with ’em.”

  “I always say, never piss off a vicious woman. If she tells you that she’ll get you—it’s the one time she isn’t lying.” My little lecture didn’t register.

  But this time, I’d concluded my only chance of making it through her was to leap against her midsection, then give a whirl past her. If I could dance my way out of her reach, I’d rush down the few stairs, and jump overboard. I needed to act quickly because we were approaching a causeway that could take the vessel to my final resting place—or floating place. I’d been called a shark plenty in my day, but the term ‘shark bait’ had an objectionable ring.

  I attempted to stabilize my footing to give me the best possible thrust at Hammer. “So, Hammer,” I drawled, knowing this was it, “are your legs getting shorter or have you been putting on
a few pounds?”

  “I weigh in just right.” Her eyes were on fire, but she stood firm. “Got a problem with that?”

  “No problem,” I said, inhaling deeply. “Junie Mae.”

  Her fierce eye bulged. She walked toward me. “What’d you call me?”

  I lunged, giving a stomp on her toes. Whirling away, I sprang toward the stairway. As I made my leap overboard, I hoped to clear the boat’s wake and not be sucked into the blades. Water sheeted against me. Misty spray filled the air around me. The tug of waves yanked at me as I swam fitfully toward the beach. The exact location, I estimated, was not far from Delray Municipal Beach.

  The craft’s motor cut out, and Cruz screamed. She fired four rounds. The hail of bullets splashed very near my head. I continued swimming. Gulping air, I then went underwater until my lungs seemed ready to explode. It seemed to be throwing Cruz off my scent. She probably believed she’d fired a lucky shot. When I was confident I’d lost them, I bobbed upward. There was no sign of The Turquoise Debra.

  I cautiously paddled, staying down until I felt the sand beneath me. I quickly raced toward the beach. There was a marina ahead. My ribs ached as I made my final rush to safety. I prayed to the goddesses that my waterproof phone was still working. Although it sounded a little squirrelly, it connected. Rachel wasn’t in the office, and she wasn’t answering her cell. I left a text message, asking for her to contact me immediately. Then I recalled that she mentioned she was planning to stop by Lilia’s suite.

  I put the call into Lilia’s. Lilia told me that Rachel hadn’t arrived. She sensed my anxiety. I explained that I was in an altercation in Boca with Cruz and Hammer. And it left me stranded. So, I requested, when Rachel arrived, she should be very careful. Also, we both needed to try contacting Summer to warn her of possible retaliation.

  Lilia insisted on driving to pick me up. I had argued that I would take a cab to pick up my car. Looking down at my dripping clothing, I wondered if a cabby might not have some reservation about taking me anywhere. So I was somewhat relieved that Lilia offered. I’d have time, and plenty of sun, to dry my outfit before she arrived.

  I kicked around the beach’s marina, trying not to look too conspicuous until Lilia arrived. I moved with tentative stiffness to her Jag. As I slipped into the seat beside her, I smiled. “Thanks for the watch.”

  She reached, touching my face tenderly. “Beryl, I was so frightened. Do you wish to go to the hospital?”

  “No. I’ll be okay. If you could drive me to Boca, I’ll pick up my car.”

  As we drove, she argued for me to see a doctor. By the time we’d arrived, Lilia was convinced I was okay. “You say your automobile is near Anita Cruz’s condominium?”

  “Yes, I parked it a few blocks away.” I pointed the way, and when we rounded the block, I said, “It’s just up this street.” I saw it, so I then amended, “Or what’s left of it.” My Firebird had been battered unmercifully. It was my stand-in. Cruz and Hammer hadn’t been able to beat the bloomers off of me, so they took the top off of my auto. They had figured it would be somewhere in the vicinity. Found it and pounded it. They’d kicked the doors, cut the convertibles top, and smashed the windows.

  The damage rendered us both speechless. I stepped around spraying fangs of glass shard. I opened the trunk to toss in my empty holster. This case was tough on our arsenal as well as our vehicles. I sat inside the car to make a call to Rachel. She had been chasing her tail at police headquarters, thus had her phone off. When I told her about my car, she assured me that she would report it to the police, call a towing company and our insurance firm. My auto body shop would be making a small fortune. The Firebird’s lustrous finish may not have satiated the dastardly due’s daily torture requirement, so I stressed the need to warn Summer. Luckily, Rachel didn’t scold me.

  I got back out of my car, slammed the crumpled door behind me, and began chastising myself in place of Rachel’s reprimand. I’d walked into trouble with no backup. That had nearly killed me and ravaged my auto.

  “Rach will take care of things,” I said to Lilia. My attempts to move toward her seemed futile. I leaned back against the fender. Even breathing sent shockwaves of pain through my body. No bones had been broken, but they’d had a pretty good realignment. My head had been slammed hard, and my thinking was still cloudy. I was concerned about my hand. It had finally stopped bleeding, so I tested it to see if it was still mobile.

  Lilia spoke softly, “Beryl, they tried to murder you. You’ve been beaten and your automobile has been severely damaged. I insist that you send me the repair bill and medical charges.”

  “I have insurance, and it was my fault for attempting to invade their territory. I knew better.”

  We got into the Jag and drove away. When we reached Palm Beach, she insisted that we go to The Breakers. In the parking lot, she turned off the ignition. Before I exited, she took my arm. “Beryl, it is very important. I must say this. I’ll pay you the full amount and the bonus, immediately. I’m asking you to drop the case.”

  “You’re firing me?” I asked incredulously.

  “Yes.”

  “Have I done something wrong?”

  She caressed my cheek. “I’m frightened for you.”

  “Danger is an aspect of my profession. Most of my work is dull and procedural.” I balked, “I have no intention of dropping the case. I’m going to solve it. I did something foolish today. Being stupid eventually comes with a price. I paid the price. It’s over.”

  “Let’s go to my suite. There you can soak in a hot bath.”

  “Lilia, I’m fine. Really, I don’t want to trouble you.”

  “You could never trouble me. While taking a nice, soothing bath, you can test if your new watch is waterproof,” she teased.

  Laughing, I answered, “I just conducted that test.” I glanced down at the perfectly ticking timepiece. It had also passed the shock absorption test.

  Once in the suite, I felt safer. The torment was a thing of the past. Lilia had called room service to get antiseptic first aid cream and bandages for my injured hand. While waiting, she drew a bath for me. She poured fragrant exotic oils that scented the air beautifully. When she left the bathroom to answer the door, I undressed and lowered my body into the water. The warmth of the soft water in the sunken tub felt heavenly.

  When she returned, she perched on the tub’s ledge. Gently, she took my hand to examine the cuts along my knuckles. Unfortunately, the wounds were not from battle, but from hastily fleeing. Lilia didn’t care that the injuries were borne of a silly, ennoble effort. She tenderly cleaned debris from the lesions. When rubbing antiseptic cream over my hand, she smiled—it was a benevolent, healing smile.

  “Thank you,” I murmured.

  “I shall now attempt to ease your pain.” Facing me, she leaned down. Her palms covered my shoulders. With soft circular motions, her fingertips swirled over my neck and upper shoulders. She massaged my clavicle area. Then her light touch slowly rotated to just above my breasts. As if catching herself, she lifted her fingers.

  Without considering the consequences, my own hands automatically covered hers. I moved them down until they arched my bosoms. When the nipples became erect beneath her touch, I lifted my hand from hers. Hers remained as we searched one another’s faces. Then she rapidly raised her fingers, replacing them to where they had been near my neck. She glanced away.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “No. You should not have. I wish you could understand.” Her eyes clamped shut for many moments. Her lips trembled. Her words seemed stillborn.

  “Lilia, I should have had more respect for you.”

  “That isn’t the reason I stopped. You see, I want you.”

  I reeled up with a start. “I want you, too.” I reached to take her hand. It was shaking as it slid into the pocket of my grasp. I divulged, “I’ve wanted you for a very long time.”

  “Love is very different for you. For me, it means
I give my soul.”

  “Love relationships have meant little in the past. But I want to give my soul to you. I want to belong with you and to you. I can be faithful and devoted. I can believe in forever with you.” Suds streamed from me as I elevated my body and went onto my knees. “I can’t help my past. In my mind, I always wanted your kind of love. I can only offer it to you now. And for the first time, I’m willing to offer my future.”

  Her eyes were downcast. “Perhaps I couldn’t satisfy you in bed. I’m not worldly.”

  “I require only honesty.”

  Our eyes met. “Beryl, you’ve been with many women. I’ve lived a very sheltered life before Sylvia. She was my only lover.” Lilia’s words were tentative. “My fear is that I may be an inadequate lover. I’ve feared this moment. And yet, it is a moment I’ve wanted.”

  I lifted her chin. My hand covered her cheeks. Our lips were only inches apart. “Being near you brings me pleasure. You don’t need to compete with women in my life. I’ve never felt this way about them.”

  “I want to please you,” she shyly whispered.

  My lips curved. “If I settle for your inexperience, will you settle for my excessive experience?”

  “Yes.”

  “May I kiss you?” I questioned. “I mean really kiss you?”

  “Either kiss me or disappoint me.”

  Our lips met. Her mouth opened to accommodate my delving tongue. Her own soft warmth explored my mouth. When we parted, our eyes linked with sparkles that I’d only read about. I’d never recalled seeing such love on any other face.

  As I unbuttoned her blouse, her top slid from her shoulders. She shuddered when I kissed her neck. I unfastened her lace bra and felt a hot flush from her breasts. She stood and unfastened her skirt. After stepping out of her lace panties, she lifted her trim leg over the tub’s edge. She knelt in front of me. Our bodies merged as we gathered one another. Her hair’s feathery brush against my shoulder sent shivers down my back. Our torsos tightened as a surge of sexual energy overwhelmed me.