by L. J. Taylor
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Charles, because I am not in the mood. I heard you tell that woman we believe Peachtree was involved in a rogue C.I.A. operation at the time of the accident. That was the first time I heard about this rogue operation. Where did you get that information? I’d be very careful with my next statement if I were you. If you lie to me one more time, I’m out of here.”
Charles looked at Kathy and saw that she meant business. There was a fire in her eye he had never seen before. He knew he had to tell her something or she was going to walk. He couldn’t let her do that. He needed her. “Okay. I’ll tell you.” He gestured for her to take a seat and then sat down himself.
Kathy sat and crossed her arms over her well-endowed chest. He wished she hadn’t done that. It caused his mind to wander places it shouldn’t when he needed to focus. “When I read the police report of the accident and found out that Wilkes was employed by Peachtree, I began to suspect he was engaged in unauthorized activity at the time of the accident. Defense firms like Peachtree aren’t supposed to be chasing people down on highways. They usually provide security or investigate things. There are a whole host of domestic law enforcement agencies authorized to track down criminals and suspected terrorists in the U.S., ranging from local law enforcement officers to the F.B.I., the D.E.A, the U.S. Marshals and Homeland Security. You get the picture. I was hoping to find proof that Peachtree was involved in a rogue operation in their discovery responses. But that turned out to be a dead end.”
“We don’t know that. We haven’t finished reviewing all of the documents yet. Plus, since you didn’t tell me about your suspicions, we didn’t know to look for that sort of thing. If you had been upfront with me from the beginning, we could have worked together on this. It also explains why the government’s so interested in getting rid of this case. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was afraid that if you knew what I suspected, you wouldn’t continue to represent me. You might think the case was too dangerous,” he said.
“So you thought withholding this information while putting me and my law firm in danger was a better idea?” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you. What other information have you withheld?”
“I have a friend who’s an F.B.I. agent. He told me the other day that the F.B.I. was conducting an investigation into Peachtree. They tried to send an agent in to infiltrate the company, but he turned up dead. They can’t prove that Peachtree was responsible.”
“But they suspect it.”
Charles nodded. “Yes. And now that one of their own has been killed, they’re more determined than ever to bring Peachtree down. They want me to cooperate with the investigation and provide them with any information we obtain in our lawsuit.”
“I don’t see how we can do that. The documents Peachtree produced to us are protected by the confidentiality order. We can’t give copies of them to the F.B.I. Any facts we obtain from interviewing witnesses are protected from discovery by the work-product privilege – at least until the witnesses testify at trial or in deposition. We waive that privilege if we disclose the results of the interviews with the F.B.I. If we waive the privilege, then Peachtree would have the right to discover our interview notes. They could find a way to stop us from taking Ana Cabal’s deposition or, worse yet, take measures to stop her from testifying - permanently. And remember - the F.B.I. is an agency of the federal government. We don’t know which agencies use Peachtree or who their contacts are. There could be all kinds of leaks at the F.B.I.”
Charles was impressed. She’d raised some very valid points – some he hadn’t thought of. As a sniper and the head of a military unit, he was used to calling all the shots when it came to strategy. But sometimes, two heads were better than one. That was especially true when the other head contained a mind as sharp as Kathy’s. “You’re right. I’m going to need your help with the F.B.I. If I don’t cooperate with them, they’re going to subpoena me.”
Kathy nodded. “Understood. Do you see now why it’s best to tell me these things? Here you are facing a possible subpoena from the F.B.I. while I, your counsel, am completely clueless. I can’t help you if you keep things from me. We have to work on our lines of communication.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll be up front with you from now on.” He kept his fingers crossed behind his back.
“Good,” she said.
***
McAllister arrived in New York a few hours after Charles and Kathy. He took a cab to the Ritz-Carlton and checked in. He then left the building, crossed the street and climbed into a waiting sedan. The driver, a middle-aged East Indian operative, turned to look at him.
“Report,” McAllister said.
“We picked them up at the airport. They took a town car to 455 East Fifth Street. They got off on the 25th floor which belongs to the Gold Rome & Harris law firm. They stayed there for approximately four hours and then came here and checked in. They asked the concierge for dinner recommendations. He made them a reservation at Buddakan's. They took a cab to the restaurant and are having dinner there as we speak.”
“Who’s watching them now?” McAllister asked.
“Ravi and Sam,” he said.
“Good. I’m going to relieve Ravi. Get yourself a replacement. Charles Morgan, Jr. used to be a player. I want a large team assigned to him while he’s here and I want frequent rotation. I don’t want him seeing any familiar faces.”
The operative nodded. “That’s a good disguise you’re wearing. I didn’t recognize you when you first got into the car. It’s a good thing you said something. I was two seconds away from pulling the trigger.”
McAllister smiled. “Why thank you.” He patted his white goatee. “Now, let’s go have dinner.”
CHAPTER XI
Charles and Kathy arrived at Buddakan, a popular downtown Asian-fusion restaurant. They checked in with the hostess and were led through the airy bar and lounge area down one of the two wide curved staircases leading into the main dining room. Housed in a former cookie factory, the restaurant was huge. The main dining room was a beautifully decorated space with large chandeliers and high ceilings.
The sheer size of the place and the multiple points of entry into the main dining room made Charles a little uneasy. He would have preferred a smaller more intimate environment where he could keep an eye on the other restaurant patrons. He had no doubt Peachtree would try to find a way to stop the progress they were making on his case. They probably knew by now that he and Kathy were in New York. He thought he had detected a tail on the way to the airport in Miami. They might have gotten the charter company to give them information about their intended destination.
On the way to the table, Charles got the lay of the land and took a good look at the restaurant’s clientele. Most of the tables were filled with everything from girlfriends giggling their way through dinner to couples enjoying a romantic evening. A large party appeared to be having a celebration at the communal dining table dominating one section of the dining room.
The waitress led them to a table for two in the center of the room. He made sure to take the seat with the best view of both staircases.
“I’ve always wanted to try this place,” Kathy said.
Charles turned to look at her. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Some friends of mine ate here and told me how good the food is.”
Kathy kept talking. Charles listened to her with one ear as he continued his surveillance of the restaurant.
A man dressed in a very expensive suit, carrying a black cane with a silver metal tip followed the hostess down one of the staircases into the dining room. He had salt and pepper hair, a mustache and a small white goatee. There was something familiar about him. Charles couldn’t put his finger on it though. He watched as the hostess led the man to a table on the other side of the room. He seemed content to dine alone and didn’t so much as glance in their direction.
He realized that Kathy ha
d gone silent and turned to look at her. She was sitting back in her seat with her arms crossed looking at him.
“What?” he asked.
“You tell me what. I got tired of talking to myself. Have you heard a word I said in the past five minutes?”
“Yeah, you were talking about clothing trends over the past few decades and how some of the trends that were prevalent in the seventies and eighties have come back recently, like halter tops, short shorts and wedge heels.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Wow, I must confess that I’m impressed. How did you manage to hear all that while staring at the man who just walked in? What’s going on?”
“He looks familiar to me,” Charles said. “Something about the way he walks. I can’t put my finger on it though.”
Kathy looked over at the man. “You think you might have seen him before?”
“Don’t stare at him,” Charles said.
She turned back to Charles. “Where did you see him? Here in New York or back in Miami?
Charles shook his head. “I don’t know. I’d have remembered the hair, the mustache, the goatee and the cane. Those are all distinguishing characteristics. But I don’t.”
A small frown appeared between Kathy’s brows. He decided to lighten the mood a little. “He’s probably just a businessman enjoying a nice dinner and I’m being paranoid. Too many spy movies.”
She smiled. He was happy to see it. “You know what they say. Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you.”
Charles chuckled. “Who says that?”
Kathy shrugged. “I heard the line in a movie trailer or something and have used it ever since.”
She took a sip of the specialty cocktail she had ordered. It was called “Fate” and, according to the drink menu, was made of elderflower, pineapple and Prosecco. He had ordered a Heineken and nursed it. He needed to be sharp. There were too many excuses for “accidents” to happen to them in New York – a botched mugging, a reckless driver, a stray bullet. New York was a dangerous place. “So, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow morning we’re going to drive out to Queens and try to see Rico’s widow - Mrs. Eva Roberts,” she said. “Erin couldn’t get her to agree to meet with us. I was hoping we might have better luck in person.”
He nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I made arrangements for the charter to take us back to Miami tomorrow afternoon.”
“Good. I have a ton of work I need to do when we get back.”
The waitress delivered their food. They shared the dishes, family-style, and feasted on everything from Shanghai soup dumplings to lobster. The food was delicious. They ended the meal with the restaurant’s most popular dessert – “Crying Chocolate” – a molten chocolate cake topped with white chocolate ganache, coffee ice cream and caramel. He watched Kathy’s eyes roll up into her head.
“Mmmm,” she moaned. She licked her spoon and then her lips.
Charles’ gaze was riveted to the tip of her tongue. He found himself wanting a taste of her. “Good huh?”
“Positively orgasmic.”
Damn. Why did she have to say that? Erotic images of the two of them, together, flashed into his mind. He imagined giving her a real orgasm. Feeling his body respond, he shifted in his seat.
“I’m going to have to work out like a maniac tomorrow to work off these calories, but right now, I don’t care,” she said.
“Well, don’t they say that lovemaking is the best exercise?” he asked.
She pointed her spoon at him. “Yes, that’s true. So, in a sense, I’m working out right now.”
Charles laughed. “Only an attorney could come up with that logic.”
“I can rationalize anything. Even as a child. My mother had a hard time with me. I could argue myself into or out of anything. She always said that I was destined to either become a lawyer or a con woman.”
“Well, I, for one, am glad you decided on the former and not the latter.”
She smiled. “Me too.”
She had a pretty smile that could light up a room. He realized that he was getting distracted by it – by her in general. He needed to get his head back into the game for both their sakes. “We should get back to the hotel. We have an early start tomorrow.”
She glanced at her watch and nodded. “You’re right. I didn’t realize how late it was.”
He paid the tab and asked the hostess to call a taxi for them. It was waiting outside when they exited the restaurant. He opened the door for Kathy. As she climbed in, he scanned the street. It was quiet, except for a bum lying on a heat grate. There were several parked cars on the opposite side of the street, but no vans. The cars appeared to be empty. He climbed into the vehicle.
***
Kathy gazed out of the windows of the taxi as they drove back to the hotel. She loved New York. The city always seemed so alive to her. She missed it sometimes – especially in the fall when the trees turned pretty colors and there was a slight nip in the air. She definitely missed New York pizza, bagels and Chinese food. For some reason, those things were better in New York than anywhere else in the world.
She looked over at Charles. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. There were times that evening when they really seemed to connect and others when he had seemed so distant. He was staring out the window so she took the opportunity to study his profile. The dimple in his right cheek held her attention. She felt an almost undeniable urge to slide across the seat and kiss him there. He turned to look at her. She looked away and stared out the window.
They arrived at the hotel and rode the elevator up to their floor in silence. Their rooms were right across the hall from each other. When she got to her door, she turned to him, looked up into his eyes and smiled. “Thank you for dinner Charles. I had a nice time.”
“I did too,” he said.
They stood there for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes. Mesmerized by his gaze, Kathy was unable to move. Some emotion passed behind his eyes and they grew darker. His gaze drop to her lips. She really wanted him to kiss her - to see whether it would live up to all those nights of dreaming about what it would feel like.
Suddenly, she felt herself jammed up against the wall, his hard body pressed against hers while he almost devoured her lips. Sensation shot through her body. She groaned and tried to give as good as she got. Her hands roamed over his back and then slid lower, until she was gripping and squeezing his taut behind. It was his turn to groan. He ground his pelvis into hers.
The kiss seemed to go on endlessly. Finally, he lifted his head and took a small step back. She sagged against the door of her room, panting slightly through parted lips. She opened her eyes to find him looking at her, a half smile on his lips. He quirked an eyebrow.
She smiled and nodded in response to the unspoken question. She reached into her purse, extracted the room key and opened the door. They had barely gotten inside the room and closed the door before she found herself pressed up against his hard body again. This time, he banded an arm around her back and molded her against him as he kissed her. His hands roamed over her back and then lower, over her buttocks.
He squeezed her there. Heat travelled down her belly and straight to her groin. He pulled back a little and threw her jacket over her shoulders. She dropped her arms so that it slid off her shoulders and onto the floor. He reached behind her and unzipped her dress in one smooth motion. It fell to the floor, revealing her lacy white slip. She stepped out of the dress and kicked it to one side. He stepped back and stood there, drinking her in with his eyes from head to toe as if she were an oasis in the middle of a desert and he was dying of thirst.
He stepped forward hooked his fingers into the thin straps of her lacy slip and slid them down over her shoulders. The slip fell to the floor in a film of white. She stepped out it and stood there, in her white lace demi-bra, bikini underwear and pumps. He licked his lips like a hungry wolf. She put her hand on her hip and posed a little for him. Then she st
epped forward and kissed him, her tongue exploring the inside of his mouth. He put his hands on her hips and molded her pelvis against his. She groaned and squeezed his biceps with her hands. She then bit him gently on his bottom lip. He groaned and held her tighter.
She pulled away, yanked his shirt out of his pants, and began to unbutton it. When she had gotten it unbuttoned, she pushed it over his shoulders. He put his arms down to let it slide to the floor. She trailed kisses down his neck over the hard muscles of his chest and teased his nipples with her teeth and tongue. He groaned again. His response to her touch made her feel powerfully feminine.
He pulled back a little, slid his right arm under her knees, picked her up and carried her over to the bed. Laying her down gently, he trailed kisses down her neck and then teased the flesh just over the cups of her bra. He reached for the clip in between her breasts and released it setting them free. Her nipples were as hard as rocks.
He bent down and took one in his mouth, allowing his tongue to circle it. He then teased her nipple with his teeth and his tongue the way she done his. Little shocks tingled from her nipples straight down to her sex. She moaned and arched her back, thinking for sure that she would go mad. He released the nipple and then moved on to the other.
When she was unable to take any more sensual torment, she pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top. She trailed kisses down his chest and then grabbed his belt buckle. She undid it, opened his fly, grabbed the top of his pants at the waistband and tugged. He lifted his hips to oblige her and she backed away, pulling his pants down over his hips. She kissed his belly just above the waistband of his black boxer briefs, sliding her tongue over his belly button. He groaned.
She gripped the waistband of his boxers, tugged and set him free. His engorged member sprang out. He was very well-endowed. She licked him from the base to the top like a lollipop a few times before taking him deep inside her mouth and applying suction. He moaned and gripped the back of her head. She ringed the base with her thumb and forefinger and worked him over until she knew he was on the verge of releasing. Then she stopped and smiled at him.