by Dave Daren
“Hello?” Perrin called. “Are you still there?”
“Sorry, just thinking,” I said quickly.
“Well, I called because I’m having a terrible day,” she declared. “My car wouldn’t start this morning, the boss chewed me out for something that wasn’t my fault, and my neighbor’s dog found the running shoes I left on my patio and tore them to bits. So I thought we could have dinner and I could fill you in on mom’s condo sale.”
“Sure,” I replied. I reminded myself that she wasn’t the client, so it was okay to meet her for dinner and I was under no obligation to tell her what I had learned about her father. I knew I would tell her, though. The boy scout in me demanded that much.
“Great,” she said. “I need comfort food. Are you up for some hotdogs at Myung Rang?”
“Always,” I laughed. “Give me about half an hour, in case the traffic is heavy.”
“I might have to eat one while I wait,” she teased.
Lucky for me, the one-oh-one was moving at a good clip. I made it to Koreatown and the Myung Rang hot dog stand with seven minutes to spare. I squeezed the car into a spot reserved for compact cars and moseyed over to join the crowd of people waiting in line. I kept an eye out for Perrin, and she strolled up a few moments later. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek as she joined me in the line, drawing a smirk from the gaggle of teen-age girls standing behind us.
The line moved quickly and I soon had a cheddar and sausage hot dog and a potato hot dog to devour. We found seats at one of the outdoor tables and quickly claimed the spot before the three Korean businessmen who had been ahead of us in the line could grab it.
“Oh, so good,” Perrin moaned as she took a bite of her Mozzarella and sausage dog.
And it was good. It’s a simple idea, really. You stick a hot dog on a stick, roll it in the cornmeal and toppings, and then drop it in the deep fryer. What comes out of the fryer is something that’s gooey, crispy, and oh-so-delicious. If the corn dogs they’d served us in elementary school had been this good, I might have actually eaten mine instead of peeling them apart and smothering them in ketchup.
When we were reasonably sated, I took a deep breath and studied Perrin. She smiled at me and then laughed at my suddenly serious expression.
“Clearly you have something to tell me,” she said as she dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “Do I have some cheese hanging off my chin or something?”
“No,” I said with a quick smile. “But I think I’m about to add to your bad day.”
“This sounds serious,” she sighed. “Well, you’d better tell me.”
“We’ve confirmed that your father survived, and that he was seen in Mexico,” I replied. “I don’t have anything else yet but we’re still tracking his movements.”
Perrin watched the traffic go by for several minutes.
“I told you he was alive,” she finally said.
“Are you angry?” I asked. I was having a hard time gauging what she was feeling.
“A little,” she admitted. “It means he left us. But I also understand why he did it. How did mom take it?”
“Not well,” I said. “But Geoffrey was there.”
She finally turned to look at me.
“That must have been interesting,” she mused.
“They’ll have a lot to talk about,” I agreed, “but, as I said, that’s the only thing we know for sure right now.”
“So maybe that fits with what I remember about the condo,” she said. “What did mom tell you when you asked?”
“About the condo?” I clarified. “That she sold it to raise money after your father disappeared.”
“That’s true, as far as it goes,” she replied. “But I know for a fact that mom tried to sell it quietly a few months before dad disappeared. It was supposed to be part of some trade she’d worked out, but I don’t know anything else about it.”
“Maybe she was going to use it to help pay off your father’s debts,” I suggested though I added another item to my list of questionable activities to investigate.
“Maybe,” she sighed. “I only know because I heard mom on the phone one day. She was sort of angry when she found me hanging around the house instead of at swim practice, and she wanted to know what I had heard. I told her I’d had my headphones on and hadn’t heard anything. I just figured she didn’t want dad to know what she was up to. The condo was always more his thing than hers.”
“But he wanted it to be in your mother’s name,” I said.
“Yeah, I always thought that was weird,” she replied. “When I was older, I assumed he did it for tax purposes.”
We sipped our drinks and sat in silence for a few minutes.
“I should get home,” she said. “Mom will be calling, I’m sure.”
“Do you need a lift?” I asked.
“I can call Uber,” she replied.
“I don’t mind,” I insisted. “And it’ll be a lot cheaper.”
She finally smiled again, and I smiled back.
“Okay, Mr. Thrifty,” she laughed. “I accept your offer.”
We walked back to the Ford, and Perrin took in my ride with a quizzical look.
“My Honda’s in the shop,” I explained as we both got inside.
“Well, this is a nice replacement,” she said as she started to poke at some of the buttons.
“I haven’t figured out what all those do,” I admitted, “but since I’m not going to have the car that long, there didn’t seem to be much reason to figure it all out.”
“Well, that’s definitely the seat warmer,” Perrin laughed as she glanced at her lap.
“Yep,” I agreed as I felt the heat along my thighs and back. She turned it off and studied the controls for the radio instead.
It was a short drive back to her apartment, but I liked having those extra few minutes with her. I turned onto her street and was about to pull into the lot when I spotted an all too familiar lowrider parked in the guest spot. I could just make out two heads in the vehicle, and the glowing tip of a cigarette.
“Hey,” Perrin protested as I kept going. “You missed the turn.”
“No, I didn’t,” I assured her. “Have you seen that lowrider in your complex before?”
Perrin swiveled around to check the parking lot.
“I don’t think so,” she said with a frown.
“It belongs to the Reyes Dorados,” I said.
“Is that some sort of street gang?” she asked.
“One of the ones looking for your father,” I explained. “I guess they decided it was time to get more personal.”
“Should I call my mom?” she asked. “Make sure she’s all right?”
“Go ahead,” I said as I started back towards Van Nuys.
“Hi, mom,” Perrin said after a pause. “Just checking in for tonight… Oh, you did?... Well, that’s good news, right?... Are you sure you’re okay for tonight?.... You two could always go someplace else, just to get away or something…. Okay, sure…. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You didn’t mention any street gangs,” I noted.
“She and Geoffrey are having a heart-to-heart,” she sighed. “They drove over to his place so he could show her some pictures. I think they’ll be okay. Mom told me once it was a pretty nice building with good security when she was thinking about moving in with him.”
“He can afford that on an adjunct’s salary?” I asked.
“I guess,” she replied. “Where are we going?”
“Right now we’re just driving,” I said. “I was going to offer to let you stay at my place tonight.”
She considered that for a moment, then grinned wickedly.
“That could be really nice,” she declared. “They say you can tell a lot about a person by their home.”
I grinned back at her, and then she was fumbling with the radio again. She found a station playing nineties grunge and started to sing along. She had a pretty good singing voice, and I joined her on a few of the choruses.
I drove around my block when we returned, but nothing looked out of place. I recognized all the cars as my neighbors’, so I pulled into a spot across the street. I held her hand as we darted across the street, a stupid smile plastered on my face. She grinned as well and squeezed my hand, much as her mother had done for Geoffrey.
I laughed quietly as I pulled out my keys. Here I was dodging gangbangers and looking for a runaway husband that the FBI desperately wanted to find, and all I could think about was the intoxicating smell of Perrin. She danced by my side and sang Man in the Box while I unlocked the door. We ran up the stairs together, which scared poor Mrs. Beasley who was heading downstairs with her bichon for one last walk.
I flung open the door to my apartment, and we tumbled inside while tugging at our clothes before I’d even managed to close the door. My lips were locked over hers as I wrapped her in my arms and slow walked her to the bedroom. Her hand snaked inside my waistband and started to pump. I groaned into her mouth, and she groaned back.
We fell onto the bed, side by side. I finally had her top off and I let my hands roam across her breasts. They were already hard and she moaned as I teased her nipples with my tongue. She shuddered in my grasp, then pushed me onto my back.
“I wanna be a cowgirl,” she said as she licked her lips.
“And I can be your cowboy?” I laughed.
“Damn straight,” she replied.
She wrapped a fist around my shaft and started to stroke. When I was hard, she lowered her head to my tip and started to lick in a slow circular pattern. A jolt of electricity shot through my body, and it felt like every muscle had gone taut. She started to suck and I bucked involuntarily. She held on until I flattened myself against the mattress, and then she sat up again.
“Are you ready, cowboy?” she asked.
“Always,” I declared.
She slid onto my shaft, taking me deep inside. She steadied herself and then started to ride me. She changed her pace and her depth periodically and adjusted her own position so that I was hitting all her favorite spots. I grabbed hold of her waist, helping her slide along my shift.
Her heat was amazing, and she held me deep inside her for a really long time. She finally started to shake about the time I thought I would be left permanently cross-eyed, per Nana Creed’s warning about wild sex. She ground down on me as hard as she could, and I finally released just as she arched back and let out a feral scream. When her body finally stilled, she leaned forward, elbows propped on my chest as she looked at me. Her body glistened with sweat and my own sticky contribution.
“I always did like cowboys,” she murmured.
“Maybe I should invest in a horse,” I mused. “Instead of repairing the Honda.”
“Oh, I love riding horses,” she said with a grin.
“You’ll have to teach me,” I declared as I rolled on top of her.
“Well, it’s all about the touch,” she said as her hand found my balls.
I let her hands do their thing while I snatched another long, wet kiss. I moved down to her neck and her breasts and took my time with her nipples. When she was moaning again, I started pounding hard and fast. I knew all the spots now, and I made a point of shifting around and hitting each one.
She writhed beneath me and begged for more. As she reached her second climax, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and thrust up to meet me. I spilled my seed into her again as she clung to me, her whole body hot and tight with the effort.
“You’re amazing,” she murmured.
“So are you,” I replied.
I know it was after two by the time we finally both fell asleep. She was curled into me, her breath warm against my chest. I wrapped my arm around her, holding her close, even as I finally started to drowse. This case had brought a lot of bad mojo into my life, but it had brought Perrin into it as well. That alone made it worth my while.
Chapter 12
We finally had a hearing date in the Burke matter. The clerk sent the information early in the morning while I was still driving to the office after dropping Perrin at a friend’s place. Parsing through the legalese, the FBI was still opposed, and the judge advised everyone to be prepared to make their case. It was clear that the judge was hoping she could dispose of this case with just the one hearing, though after what Shorty had dug up, I started to have my doubts about that.
I called Gloria as soon as I stepped into my office. She answered quickly and I could hear one of the morning talk shows in the background.
“Good morning, Gloria,” I said. “I’m calling to let you know that we have a hearing date.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she declared. “I was starting to think the FBI had bought off the judge or something.”
“They still plan on being there to oppose your motion,” I replied. “The judge doesn’t seem inclined to let this thing drag on forever though. That could work to our advantage.”
“Have you heard anything else from the detective?” she asked. “Has he found any trace of Matthew?”
“I’m still waiting for an update,” I hedged. “He was heading north, last time I heard from him, towards Guaymas.”
“Maybe he’ll have something soon,” she murmured.
“Tell me honestly,” I said when she went silent for several seconds, “would you prefer to find him alive or have him stay missing?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “It would be good to know that he’s alive….”
“But?” I encouraged.
“But I want to be with Geoffrey now,” she replied. “Geoffrey is my future. Matthew is my past.”
“If we find him alive, you can always file for divorce,” I pointed out.
“I know,” she sighed. “Still, I do love Matthew. I suppose I always will.”
“Just think about what you want to do,” I replied. “You can decide once we hear from the detective.”
“I’ve been thinking about it all night,” she murmured. “I’m no closer to a solution.”
“Which brings me to another question,” I mentioned. “Have you seen any gang members hanging around your house?”
“Well, apparently someone was parked in front of the house late last night,” Gloria replied. “I was over at Geoffrey’s so I didn’t see it, but my neighbor called the police. No one’s been back since then. Why?”
“I thought I saw a car I recognized from an earlier encounter with one of the gangs,” I explained. “They may have decided this is taking too long and to up the ante.”
“What does that mean?” she demanded. “Are they going to start shooting at me?”
“Or try to intimidate you,” I said quickly. “See if they can frighten you into revealing Matthew’s location. Or the money’s location.”
“Why do they imagine I would suddenly know anything now?” she grumbled. “Unless they know about this detective you hired.”
“They might,” I conceded. “But I don’t think that’s what has triggered this. They’re worried that they’ll lose their connection to Burke for good if you have him declared dead.”
“Damn Matthew,” she cursed. “I can’t believe he left me with this mess.”
“I don’t think that was his plan,” I replied.
“You assume he had a plan,” she sniffed.
“From what I’ve learned, he doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to try something like this without making some sort of arrangements,” I pointed out.
“That’s true,” she admitted. “He couldn’t even pack the car for a family road trip without having some sort of strategy mapped out ahead of time.”
“Maybe this one just got away from him,” I suggested.
“Maybe,” she sighed. “But I still have to earn some money, so I’ll wait to hear from you when you have more news.”
With that, she was gone. The computer had finally finished booting up as well, and I set to work on wading through my email. I’d made an impressive dent in my correspondence when the phone rang. Sofia buzz
ed me a moment later to tell me that Special Agent Smart was on the line.
“Special Agent Smart,” I said as I leaned back in my chair and tried to stretch my back. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“We should talk,” she replied.
“We are talking,” I pointed out.
“In person,” she insisted.
“Let me guess, at the Federal Building again,” I said. “We never meet anywhere else unless you’re poking through my client’s personal possessions. Is there some FBI rule that says you can’t meet somewhere else?”
“I can’t drive all the way to Van Nuys,” she sniped. “I have too much going on.”
“And you think I don’t?” I sniped back.
She huffed but said nothing else.
“You are the one requesting this meeting,” I finally said.
“I’m heading to Hollywood in a minute for another meeting,” she replied. “Can you at least make it that far? Let’s say the Observatory in two hours?”
“At the sundial,” I agreed.
“Don’t be late,” she warned. “I’m not waiting around there so you can demonstrate your alpha male status.”
“I’ll call if I get stuck in traffic,” I replied calmly as I chose to ignore her dig.
“I’d appreciate that,” she replied with a little less venom in her voice.
“Just so you understand,” I added, “my client isn’t as inclined to help you as Miss Bernardi was.”
“Trust me,” she sighed, “You’ll want to hear this.”
“Two hours then,” I replied.
Agent Smart hung up without another word. I sat back and contemplated her last statement. Clearly, the FBI had some information that they were willing to trade for, but was it new information or old information that they decided to release now just to stir the pot a bit?
I tried to bury myself in work again, but my brain was still stuck on Agent Smart’s claim. Not to mention the fact that she was willing to meet somewhere other than the FBI office. Could it be that she would share something that the FBI wasn’t willing to make public yet? Or maybe she wasn’t getting along so well with the white collar guys after all.