Wired For Sound

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Wired For Sound Page 17

by Cherime MacFarlane


  The girl who opened the door in response to his knock was beautiful. Her blonde hair was long and fluffed in casual curls contrived to look windblown. Wide green eyes slowly appraised him from head to toe before returning to his face.

  "Tired of the beard?"

  "A wee bit." He replied.

  She stepped back from the door. Evie invited him in with a wave of her hand.

  "It's not as fancy as Vinnie's pad, but it will do. In fact, it was nice of old Tightwad Warren to put me up here, instead of ditching me. That would have been bad. I don't like to think about hanging out on the street here."

  The sofa she seated herself on faced the picture window. The drapes were closed. A fact which made H.M. reluctant to close the door. The atmosphere was too secluded and far too intimate for his taste.

  "Shut the door. Come on in here." Evie patted the couch cushion next to her. "What did you want to ask me?"

  Pushing the door closed, Hamish looked around at the available seating. Crossing the mottled blue carpet, he took a chair facing the couch.

  "A few things have been bothering me about Vince's death. Warren an I wanted tae know if it was possible drugs may have been involved."

  With a grin, Evie uncrossed her legs. Evenly tanned, she was bare from beneath the high cut shorts to her red enameled toes. The view up her very long legs was only barely restricted by the crotch seam of the shorts. From what he saw, Ms. Morgan might believe in shaving everything.

  "Drugs? Now, that's an idea. I haven't had any yet. Want to share a J?"

  Without waiting for a reply, she left the couch and sauntered off into the bedroom. H.M. could see the door to the right of where he sat. He heard her searching through something which certainly contained glass as the bottles chimed when she pushed them together.

  "Alright! This should be a good one." Evie walked back into the living room carrying a joint and a lighter. She sat down and folded one leg up under her. The position she chose again gave him as good view of her crotch. Evie lit up and took a long drag. Leaning forward, the blonde held the joint out to H.M.

  A silky white halter top did little to contain her firm breasts. The cloth fell away giving him an excellent view. Her cleavage was impressive.

  Hamish could see what had taken Vince's fancy immediately. "Nae today, thanks. I've an escort, tha coppers are followin me. I dinnae need tae give them an excuse."

  She straightened up and took another hit before putting the joint out in the ashtray. "No problem."

  Evie stood up. With a glance over her shoulder she walked back into the bedroom "Come're a sec. Let's see about getting the smell off you." She called out.

  H.M. sat where he was, silently assessing the situation. The girl wanted another man, a star, to take Vince's place. She knew he and Lori were a thing, she probably even knew they were married. Vince was always ranting and raving about his marriage to anyone who would listen. It did not matter to Evie Morgan.

  What did matter, was life in the fast lane continue for her. Hamish did not want to be here as he did not intend on taking up where Vince left off. On the other hand, he needed answers to some very important questions. He needed to be somewhat cooperative or Evie was going to tell him nothing.

  Feeling he had hesitated long enough, H.M. reluctantly followed her into the bedroom. She was standing in front of the chest of drawers with a can of 1deodorizer. When he stopped in front of her, Evie began to spray his clothing. She walked around him, spraying as she went.

  While behind him, she halted. Evie pushed him forward by stepping up against his back and leaning against him. Reaching around H.M., she placed the 1deodorizer on the dresser. H.M. couldn't see her in the mirror, but he could feel her. The girl suddenly lifted up his tee shirt and ran her hands up and down his back.

  Startled, H.M. moved forward, Evie pushed closer, trapping him against the dresser.

  "Were ye an Vincent intae hard drugs?" He asked as he began to try to edge sideways away from her.

  "Nah. Vince and I were into sex. Pure and simple. He liked a little kinky stuff now and again. You know the bit, he tied me up a few times. Then decided he liked it better when I tied him up. He loved being teased, tickled and licked until he couldn't stand it any longer."

  Evie took her hands away from H.M.'s back. For a moment he was able to relax.

  "We did try some coke. Got us both too wired. Neither of us could get off. That wasn't a whole lot of fun."

  Her arms came around his waist and before he could move, Evie pushed her hands down into the front of his jeans. "This could be fun."

  Pulling her hands away, he took a firm hold on one wrist and spun around. Evie grinned at him when she found herself flattened against his chest. He looked down at her and discovered she had untied the halter top.

  "What tha bloody hell is wrong with ye? Are ye in heat? You dinnae even know me. I have no wish tae be jumped on like ah sweetie an devoured."

  "Uh huh. You got it. I'm in heat. Haven't had a good piece since Vinnie ate it, I'm bored and I want a little action."

  She pushed up his tee shirt and rubbed her breasts against his chest. "What's the matter? Does momma keep you on a short leash?"

  He pushed her away. "Stop it! No one tells me what tae do an that includes ye. Since it appears ye an Vince were not intae drugs. I have tha answers I wanted, I will be leaving now."

  "Too bad. I always liked your bod." She wasn't in the least ashamed or bothered by his rejection. H.M. shook his head.

  ""Tis ah shame Vince died. Ye tae were made for each other. Ye do understand, nae every man likes tae be attacked."

  "Sure, I know it." She followed him into the living room retying the halter top as she walked. "But, you never know until you give it a try. You were worth a try. Hey, send the drummer my way, if he has a different attitude. He's got a nice ass." Evie called out to H.M. as he walked out the front door and shut it behind him.

  Down the stairs and halfway around the pool, Hamish began to laugh. It was funny. He had never been approached by a woman quite that way before. It felt odd to be the prey instead of the hunter. Girls certainly let him know they were available, but Evie Morgan was an entirely different sort of burd.

  Making his way to the office, Hamish asked the desk clerk to ring for a taxi. He was running like a virgin fleeing to protect her virtue. There must be a song in it somewhere. Hamish chuckled at the thought of Lori's face when he told her of his narrow escape. It would be interesting to see how she took it.

  He was still chuckling to himself when the cab picked him up. As the vehicle left the parking lot, H.M. glanced out the back window. The unmarked car was not far behind.

  Deciding he might as well give the polis something to do, Hamish leaned forward to ask the cab driver to take him to the nearest Harley shop. The man nodded. H.M. sat back to enjoy the ride.

  Lori was handling the other matter, so he was free to look around. It might not be such a bad idea to cool off a little before going back to the hotel. The tightness in the front of his pants would be a little too noticeable. Lori might not see the humor of the situation if she knew that despite everything, Evie had turned him on.

  Vince had certainly met his match in that woman. It would have been interesting to see who wore the trousers there. His money would have been on Evie. It was too bad the relationship had ended so tragically. H.M. shook his head. He would not think about it right now.

  "Relax." He told himself. H.M. settled back against the seat as he watched the horde of humanity sweep past him on either side of the crowded street.

  The variety of people moving around the city was nearly unbelievable. It did not seem to bother any of them that the air was almost unfit to breathe. They went about their normal day-to-day activities without any change he could see.

  Youngsters on skateboards, people of all ages on skates and bicycles wove their way through traffic. There were people everywhere on the sidewalks and in the streets. Some people looked as if they were on their way to a
beach party somewhere. Others appeared to have temporarily escaped from corporate boardrooms.

  "Is this ah week day?" H.M. asked the driver.

  "Yeah, sure." The cabbie glanced obliquely in the rear-view mirror at H.M. "You a tourist or something?"

  "Definitely ah tourist. There are just so many people dressed casually, I wondered if I had tha correct date." Hamish replied.

  "Hey, this is L.A. Only the stuffed shirts dress anything but casual. It's nice and warm, why wrap up in a suit or something. It would be way too hot."

  "I suppose so. Is tha motorcycle shop near here?"

  "Not too much further. You don't look quite like the Hog type to me. You ain't a yuppie and you can't be Red n White. So what's your trip?"

  "What or who is 'Red and White'?" Hamish looked in the rear view mirror at the taxi driver.

  "Hard core biker's, mac. The shop is in the next block between a Korean restaurant and a boutique."

  H.M. thought for a moment. "Do you know if there's an alley in the back? I wouldnae mind getting intae tha shop without being noticed."

  The driver slowed the taxi. He stared at H.M., studying him in the mirror. "Maybe I spoke too soon. Hey buddy, what's the action here?"

  "Tae tell tha truth, I belong tae ah rock group from Britain, I just want tae have ah nice day without being mobbed. Without my costume, 'tis difficult tae tell who I really am, but I dinna feel like taking chances."

  The cabbie studied him for a moment more before he nodded. "Yeah, that's probably as close to the truth as we're going to get here. There's an alley. It's mostly used for service deliveries and garbage hauling. If you want, you should be able to get through the kitchen of the restaurant to the alley. From there, the service area of the motorcycle shop is the next door down. Watch the Koreans. Make sure you wave some money under their noses as you head for the kitchen. Otherwise, you could find yourself with a butcher knife in your back."

  "I will keep it in mind." Acknowledging the cabbie's advice, Hamish slid up against the door.

  The driver eased the cab to the curb in a loading zone. H.M. puzzled for a moment over the correct denomination of bill to give to the man.

  "Just give me the one with the 50 on it and hold on, you've got change coming." Peeling off several bills from the roll in his pocket, the driver passed them out of the window to H.M.

  "It's easy to see you don't know your way around this joint. You must get took on a daily basis. Take care." Jerking the wheel, the driver gave the taxi a shot of gas and was once again within the flow of traffic.

  H.M. entered the restaurant and headed straight for the kitchen area with a $50.00 bill in one hand. The currency was beginning to make sense. It was much like pounds in Britain. The silver was still very confusing. There was a great deal of yelling in Korean as he entered the kitchen which ceased abruptly when he waved the bill at the closest individual.

  "I need tae go out tae tha alley." Hamish explained as he handed the bill over to a slight man in chef's whites. The man took the bill in one hand then gestured to a door in the far wall with the large knife he held in the other hand.

  With a nod and a murmured, "Thank you." H.M. moved swiftly to the door and let himself out. Safely in the alley, he breathed a sigh of relief. The cabbie had been more than helpful. People here were always ready for an altercation.

  The door to the motorcycle shop service area was open. He heard the sound of a bike being revved up and smiled. This should be easier. At least he spoke the language here. He knocked on the door as he stood carefully to one side. A bearded man in greasy coveralls looked up from the carburetor he was squatting in front of.

  "What do you need? Customers aren't allowed in the shop." The tone was curious, not particularly menacing.

  "I would like tae get intae tha front of tha store actually. I've just about decided tae buy another bike, but I'm afraid I have come tha wrong way round."

  The young man rose, screw driver in hand. "You a Limey or Aussie? Come this way; just don't touch nothin on your way through."

  The mechanic guided H.M. through the shop, around bikes in various states of repair, to the doors marking the dividing line, shop from store.

  Opening one of the doors, he put his head through and called out. "Carroll! Got a live one for ya. Come on over here an get him."

  The mechanic closed the door then glanced at H.M. "So, you from England?"

  "Scotland, in fact. I have ah vintage bike at home. I think it might be time for ah second one. One ah wee bit newer."

  A salesman opened the door. He smiled a broad salesman's smile at H.M. "Good afternoon. What model would you like to see today?"

  H.M. nodded his thanks to the mechanic as he stepped through the door into the showroom with Carroll. "I dinnae want anything ostentatious, tae many frills, mind. I want ah cruiser. Something tha missus an I can ride about comfortably."

  Carroll walked in the general direction of a dresser. H.M. shook his head as he took a look around the showroom. A bike in the far corner caught his eye. It was clean looking. Just enough chrome to flash as she cruised by in the sunlight. But not enough to keep Lori polishing or clucking at him for riding in rainstorms and giving her more work to do.

  It was painted a dark burgundy red. H.M. began to make his way through the other models toward the bike. Carroll brought up the rear. In a few moments, H.M. stood looking down at the machine which had caught his eye. The itch to be off and away from everything caused his fingers to twitch involuntarily.

  "We took this one in as a trade-in a couple of weeks ago. It's an 1985 FXS, 1340CC, 4 speed tranny. The owner's old lady thought it was too small. The guy wound up with a dresser. It didn't make him real happy, but it kept peace in the family."

  Carroll chuckled. "I guess she didn't realize the big one was just as fast as this one. She didn't do herself any favors. The previous owner bought this one from us. He planned to do some heavy cruising. That's a custom seat and luggage rack. You and the old lady can rack up the miles on this one without wearing your behinds out. We have a windshield in the back for it. Didn't put it on because we didn't want it getting scratched to hell in here."

  While the salesman went on with the pitch, H.M. climbed onto the bike. Both feet flat on the floor, he tugged the Harley upright off the kickstand. Bouncing a little on the seat, he made himself comfortable. It felt good, he wanted to try it out. Hamish could already hear the sound of the wind whistling past him.

  "I want tae try it." He broke in. "How is it managed?"

  "I'll go talk to the boss. The alley is our usual testing ground. I'm afraid in this day and age, we can't let the bike out of our control. But, you can hear it run out there, rev it up and generally get the feel of things."

  H.M. nodded. He looked over at the rack of leathers hanging on the back wall. "I'll need some new gear as well. I think I need to make ah phone call to my hotel. I want tae talk with my wife for ah moment."

  Letting the bike settle back onto the kickstand, Hamish swung his leg over to dismount. Carroll guided H.M. over to a desk near the door to the shop.

  "While you're making the call, I'll have one of the mechanics roll her out to the alley. Which one are you in? If it's a long distance call, you'll have to make it collect."

  H.M. gave him the name of the hotel. Carroll dialed the call for him before handing the receiver to H.M.

  Lori answered on the second ring. "Where are you, love? I expected you back before this."

  "Dinnae fash yur self, darlin. I'm in ah Harley shop down by the ocean somewhere. I had ah little trouble getting here. Had ah wee bit of an entourage on tha way tae my original destination, so I decided tae do ah little sightseeing. I think I slipped the leash for the time being."

  "I want tae buy ah bike. There's one here which looks quite nice. I think we should both have some gear tae go with it. If we purchase it an have it delivered later, per'aps we can get ah bit of riding in without our friends being tha wiser. What do you think?"

  "
Why not? You deserve a new bike. That will give the old girl a bit of a rest and we will have something to ride no matter what. If you're going to buy my jacket without me being there, get me something in a size ten, will you? You know what my tastes are. Do you want to charge this?"

  "That would probably be best. Which card should I use?" Turning his back to the office door, Hamish pulled his wallet from his pocket.

  "Try the blue one. We haven't bought anything on it in a while. I had an interesting conversation while you were gone. We'll discuss it when you get back. Shall I wait and have dinner with you?"

  "Aye. Wait for me. I willna be much longer. Ta ta."

  He hung up the phone and watched Carroll walk over. The salesman had been hovering discreetly in the background.

  "It's in the alley. Shall we step out there?" He asked H.M.

  "In ah moment. I'll need ah new jacket. My old one is at home an my wife will need one as well. What do you have in ah size ten ladies an ah extra-large?"

  They walked over to the clothes rack. Carroll indicated the men's section to H.M. In a few moments, he had selected a jacket for himself.

  Lori was another matter. It took longer to decide what she would like. Finally having made a selection, H.M. put on his new jacket and followed the salesman out to the waiting bike. The mechanic was preparing to start the Harley.

  "Nae. I'll do it myself." H.M. walked over to the bike. He checked the gas to make sure the valve was open. "If I canna start it on my own, it has ah problem I've nae wish tae tackle away from home."

  Noting the electric start button, Hamish ignored it, choosing to kick start the Harley instead. The engine caught on the third try. H.M. cracked the throttle. He mounted the bike with a smile as the engine roared.

  Looking over his shoulder at Carroll, Hamish lifted his chin in the direction of the passenger seat. "Can ye pack?"

  "Sure!" The salesman answered.

  "Then get aboard." Hamish laughed. "This train is about tae depart. I want what ye Yanks call ah test drive."

 

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