Michael Quinn
Page 10
“No! That’s what I’ve got you for. Get a crew in there to clean up the mess. I want it back to perfect. Bill me.”
“Something else, sir.”
“What is it?” I was irritated and not entirely pleased with him, even if it had happened before he came, he should have checked on Colin face to face as soon as he’d arrived.
“Clothes washed up on the shore. Do you recognize these?” he asked, opening a black plastic bag and pulling out a shirt and dress slacks.
“No. I haven’t seen Colin for almost a decade. I have no idea what he wears. Is there anything in the pockets?”
“Pockets are empty, sir.”
“Labels?”
“None. Appear to have been ripped out.”
I looked at him in exasperation. “Doesn’t that strike you as the tiniest bit strange, Killian?”
“Not for people on the run, sir.”
I looked up slowly as the realization of what he’d just said sank in. Maybe Colin wasn’t there to harm me; maybe he needed help.
Kathleen
Della and I hadn’t shut up since the airport. Michael had rented us a red, Mercedes convertible and given me a lecture about not out-running the man he’d hired to look after us. In my bag was an envelope filled with cash, my lipstick and a map of Los Angeles. We were in shopping heaven!
We drove through Beverly Hills and I saw the dress shop I’d been to, Beverly’s was curtained and out of business. Maybe they’d been in money trouble and that’s why the saleslady had been so rude?
“So, I want to hear all the news from home,” I insisted.
“Are you sure you want to waste time on that? This is so much more exciting.” Della’s head was spinning like a lazy susan.
“But I’m homesick,” I countered. “I was dying to hear what everyone’s been doing!”
Della reared her head back. “You don’t sound the same. Your voice is different and your accent sound like watered-down milk.”
I roared. “Michael has had me studying with coaches. They’re trying to knock the hillbilly out of me.”
“Well, good luck with that. You’re no hillbilly; you’re a southern girl, born and bred.” Della seemed offended.
“Oh, don’t take it personally. People out here are sort of superficial and they like to categorize everyone. I think it’s the acting thing. They’re all pretending, you know. No one is who they seem.”
“Ewww… I don’t think I’d like that. How do you know who to believe?”
“You don’t, so you don’t trust anyone. Just the people you know; like me and of course, Michael.”
“Okay, so now I want to hear more about him. You don’t say a peep. Did you know there’s even a rumor going around at home that you two are married?”
I froze inside. I knew this moment would be coming and I’d prepared what I was going to say. “Della, don’t hate me but Michael and I made the decision to get married. I don’t want my reputation ruined and he says it will be better for my career, as far as directors or such trying to push me into things I don’t want to do.”
“Whaaaaat? Why didn’t you say so?”
“We haven’t told anyone. Well, except you’ll hear people address me here as his wife.”
“Where’s your ring. Tell me you’re not going to settle for a little old gold band.” She began grabbing at my left hand and I shook her loose.
“I get to pick it out and I just haven’t found the one I want yet. There’s plenty of time for all that.” My conscience was burning. I’d thought and thought how to give her the impression we’d already gotten married without actually saying an outright lie. It could be any time; Michael told me to pick the date. I just let her think it already happened, even though I would have loved to have had the traditional wedding at home with bridesmaids and Michael with groomsmen. Della couldn’t be trusted with the truth; she had a mouth on her like a whale looking for a mate.
She must have misinterpreted the look on my face. “Don’t you worry. I won’t say a word to anyone. It’ll be our little secret until you’re ready to come clean. Who knows? Maybe while I’m out here I’ll hook myself some handsome movie star?”
The crisis moment passed, I steered the conversation away and let her talk about herself. It was, after all, her favorite subject.
Della was at the pool and I was remaining behind, as usual, inside the room at the Beverly Hills. The phone rang and I appreciated the timing so I could speak privately. I knew it was Michael; no one else knew I was there.
“Hello?”
“’Tis yer brother-in-law, me darlin’. Colin.”
“Colin? What’s wrong? Is Michael okay?”
“Ye’ve not heard then?” Click. The phone went dead.
I felt the hysteria rising inside. I tried calling the operator as I’d seen Michael do, but since the call had come through the switchboard of the hotel, there was no way to trace it. My thoughts raced. I opened the room door and ran to the pool where Della was entertaining a trio of men with her bikini, dimples and the deepest southern drawl I’d ever heard.
“Della! I’ve got to leave. You stay here, in the room and enjoy yourself. Order whatever you want and put it on the bill.”
“Katie?” She turned around in her chair, lowering her sunglasses down to the tip of her pert nose. A guy in the next chair reached over and began his finger crawl down her chest to the valley between Della’s breasts. “Stop that!” she said, slapping him away. “I told you I’m not Elizabeth Taylor.” She stood up and came toward me. “Is everything okay? I’m just having fun is all.”
“No, it’s fine. Go ahead and enjoy yourself. I have to go. Unexpected emergency. Just stay here at the hotel and I’ll be in touch.”
“Are you sure? You want me to come with you?”
“No! I… I’ll be back.” I turned to look at the door of the bungalow next to ours. I was looking for the security detail. He was standing in full view, curtains wide open. His eyes were locked on me. I motioned him outside and ran forward. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I have to get to Michael. Now!”
“What’s the problem, ma’am?”
“I’m not sure there is one. Can you call him, please? I’m just so upset.”
“Yes, ma’am. Go back into your room and shut the door, please.”
I did as he asked and he went into his room. Barely a minute later, he tapped at my door and I let him in. “There’s no answer, ma’am.”
“No one?”
“No ma’am.”
“Something’s terribly wrong. I’m going home. Right now.”
He put his arm out to stop me. “Ma’am, I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. Let me call in another man and have him go by and see what’s up. I need to stay with you, ma’am.”
“Then you’d better lock your door and jump in my passenger seat, because I’m going home and that’s that!”
I grabbed my bag and minutes later we were headed toward the house, the security man hanging on for dear life. I never did say I was a good driver.
Michael
“What’s she doing here?” I demanded as Katie burst through the door and threw herself into my arms. Her security guard stood sheepishly behind her. “I thought I told you to take her to the Beverly?”
“Yes, sir. She and her friend were checked in when she sort of got hysterical and said she had to come home. There was no way to stop her.”
I glared at him. What sort of security had I hired who couldn’t stop a five-foot-two bundle of blonde hair and blue eyes? “Okay, get out and shut the door.”
His face flushed, the guard did as I asked and I pulled Katie away from my chest, looking at the utter hysteria on her face.
“Are you okay?” she cried.
“Me? Yes, of course. You can see for yourself, I’m just fine. What’s this all about? All this hysterical screaming? For heaven’s sake, darlin’?”
“Where’s Colin?”
“We haven’t located him. What the he
ll, Katie?”
“Michael, let me catch my breath.” She put her hand on her chest and sat on a tufted wingback at the opposite side of my desk. “I was at the Beverly, watching Della flirt through the curtains and my phone rang. I thought it was you—I mean who else knew I was there? But, it was Colin!”
“Colin? Are you sure?”
I rolled my eyes at the obvious and he nodded. “What did he want?”
“I got scared. He was the one I was hiding from, after all. I asked him if everything was okay, whether you were all right and he just said, ‘Haven’t you heard?’ and hung up. But, it wasn’t like a real hang-up sound; more like he was just suddenly gone. Like the line had been severed.”
“Oh, Katie, now your imagination is kicking in.”
“Michael, don’t you believe me?”
“Yes, I believe, but you’re exaggerating. If I know Colin, he’s gotten himself settled in a bar somewhere and is good and drunk.”
“Michael, you’re not thinking straight. How did he know where I was?”
I thought a few seconds. “He’s been following me for a long time. He probably knew if you weren’t here, that you’d be at the same hotel where we stayed before moving here. That makes total sense. I would do the same thing.”
She was shaking her head. “Nooooo, Michael, this is more than that. I’m sure of it. Why are you trying to pacify me? Your brother shows up unexpected after years, is staying in the guest house, it gets destroyed and he disappears. Then he calls me at the hotel where you sent me to be safe from him. What is going on?” Her voice was pitching up higher and higher.
I stood away from her and then sat in my chair. She’d started crying. I sat there with my palms pressed against one another and looked at what I’d done. I’d bragged that I would take her to the land of her dreams, to give her a better life than she could possibly have with her father, and what had I done? I’d brought her into my world, my danger, my past. What the fuck was the matter with me?
“Where is your friend?”
“Michael, don’t I deserve an answer?”
“I will. Just tell me, where is she?”
“Still at the Beverly.”
I strode to the door and summoned the security guard who had accompanied Katie home. “Go back to the Beverly and watch over Miss…” What’s her name, Katie?”
“Uh! Michael! Her name is Della Tannon.”
“…Miss Della Tannon. Don’t let her out of your sight unless she goes into her bungalow and locks the door, then stand outside the door. Call backup if you need to. Make sure she has a wonderful time. Tell her Katie had an emergency and can’t come back. She’ll call her. When her vacation is over, put her personally on the plane and watch it take off. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
I shut the door. “Katie, please, sweetheart, I need you to trust me. Go and put on your prettiest dress and come straight back.”
“Not until I get some answers!” Her blue eyes were black with anger and she was stomping the toes on one foot. I knew it was my fault but I needed her cooperation.
“Katie, I will give them to you. But, please. Go now and hurry.”
She thinned her lips and cocked her head.
“I know. Just please trust me.”
“Don’t make me sorry.”
Katie left and I got busy on the phone. I’d taken the time to put on my best suit and when she returned, I took her by the hand and we left the house, climbing into the limo. “Go.” The driver didn’t hesitate.
Katie wouldn’t speak to me. Not in the limo and not even when we arrived at the airport and I carried her up the steps into the private plane I’d hired. I buckled her in and held her hand as we climbed. The flight wasn’t long and when we disembarked, the heat was suffocating. Las Vegas was always ungodly hot.
The limo there drove us to a small, white chapel at the edge of town. It was less garish than those on the strip and more befitting of a southern belle and her black-haired Irish intended—although I have no idea why.
The next time Katie ever spoke to me was to say, “I do.”
No luckier man had ever been born. My fortune was neither money nor fame, but a rather petite, blue-eyed young lady who found her way through the anger, the distrust and the mystery to pledge her life to me.
Thank you, God.
Kathleen
Mrs. Michael Quinn. I let the words lie on my tongue and their melody embed itself on my brain. I was Kathleen Erin Quinn. My old name had been swept away by words from a man I didn’t know, standing in a chapel I’d never seen and in a city I’d never visited. Why was I there? Michael. He was the single word that defined my reason for doing everything I did.
I was the girl who had laid her dreams in the clouds back on the lawn of St. Elizabeth’s. Now, I was a married woman and oh, how my dreams had changed.
There was a very sizeable emerald-cut diamond on my left hand and a necklace of matching stones around my neck and in my ears. I don’t know where he got them, but they were perfect and it was poor manners to question perfection. The limo took us to the new Tropicana Hotel, which was more of a resort than a casino. We were shown to the Presidential Suite and my tummy growled when we walked in to find an elegant, white-linen table with silver flatware waiting for us, covered with gourmet-prepared meats, seafood, side dishes and desserts. There must have been enough to feed twenty people, but there was only we two.
We ate our fill and Michael threw open the drapes to reveal a dizzying array of colored blinking signs. Las Vegas in the nighttime seems surrealistic—almost more than your eyes can take in. We shared champagne and savored the silence—something that contrasted greatly with the steady stream of guests and cars below.
Michael took my glass and set it on the table, pulling me by the hand into the master bedroom. To my delight, there was a huge soaking tub, easily large enough for four people. Someone had filled it with steamy, bubbling water and scattered rose petals over its edge and across the floor to the bed.
He turned me slowly, his eyes travelling over my body in a way they never had. Until that evening, I’d been a quest; a goal. Now, he’d won and I was only too glad to be his winnings.
One hand reached around to my back and his fingers found the zipper to my peach-colored, lace dress. I wished I’d worn white, but I’d had no idea. He slid the zipper slowly, passing his hand inside and touching my skin as he lowered it. His mouth found mine and instead of kissing me, he devoured me. His lips pulled and sucked at mine, his mouth hungrily tasting the inside of my lower lip and then my cheek and the side of my neck. He tugged my earlobe between his teeth until I let out a small gasp when the dress slid to the floor and I stood before him in my garter, panties and bra.
Michael’s fingers knew right where the hooks were. He popped one at a time and then slipped his finger between my breasts to slowly pull my bra down. As my nipples became exposed, he took turns sucking them, lightly biting and pulling at them.
Gently, he pulled me against himself and manipulated my hands to undress him. The buttons on his shirt were pearls, round and slick. I loosened his belt, opening it slowly. At his indrawn breath, I reached inside to feel him with my fingers, sliding against the fabric of his shorts in an up and down motion.
For some reason I began to think back to biology class at St. Elizabeth’s. The lesson was reproduction and when we came to the part about humans, the girls had questions. The nuns, their faces flaming, did the best they could but of course they’d never known a man. Sister June had come into the classroom and with her hands folded before her, pronounced that sex was only for the purposes of reproduction in God’s eyes and that when that time came, the woman should bow to the instructions of her husband.
Boy, was she wrong. Michael unleashed something I’d never felt before. Inside, I was a maelstrom of nerve endings and fluids, parts of me aching to be be stroked. Michael seemed to sense this and whispered into my ear. “I love you, Mrs. Quinn.”
I nuz
zled his neck and bit his ear lobe, at the same time pulling down his shorts and taking his penis between my hands.
“Ach!” he called out between clenched teeth. “Not so fast, darlin’, let’s make this last.”
I nodded and began snapping my garters, peeling down my stockings and then pulling off the garter at the same time as my panties. I stood before, completely naked, my fingers guarding my pussy with trepidation. I knew how it was supposed to work, but the reality of being there and knowing what was going to happen made me tense.
Michael laughed. That beautiful deep sound from low in his throat that sent shivers through me. “No need to hide from me, darlin’. I will be gentle and we belong together. It’s the most natural thing in the world and you’re going to love how it feels. Now, trust me.”
His hand grasped my wrist and then included the other, holding my arms to one side in a vise-like grip. His free hand touched my furry muff, rubbing me in a circular motion. My knees gave way and he laughed again as he caught me and slid with me into the bubbles of the tub. There he parted his legs and placed me between them, my back to his chest. His hands cupped the steamy water and then ladled it over my breasts.
“Ahhh, that feels wonderful,” I sighed, closing my eyes. I was relaxed and almost sleepy… that was until I felt Michael’s fingers opening the petals of my vagina and his index finger slowly, so, so slowly, stroked my nub. Electric shocks went through me and I jerked, driving myself harder against him. He answered this by inserting the tip of his penis into my backside, just a half inch and sliding it up and down using the soapy water as lubrication. I squealed and then a warmth crept over me and I wanted more.
I bent my head upward and searched for his mouth. My reward was his tongue, its warm moistness lashing against my mouth and cheeks. I was getting overwhelmed. The unexpected primal part of me was rising and I wanted to give and get in the most elemental way.
“Michael…” I whispered desperately.