The HiT Series

by Margaret McHeyzer

  I recognize the sweet voice instantly.

  Anna.

  Ben

  I gasp and stop just inside the door. My body automatically freezes from shock and happy excitement, but I’m also angry that she simply disappeared for the last fifteen months.

  “Anna.” My voice is strained. “Baby girl, I’ve missed you so much.” I think I heard her let out a moan.

  I hope she misses me as much as I miss her.

  “When can I see you?” I say. She lets out a small laugh and it puts my body at ease. The anger that bubbled up seconds earlier has lifted.

  “Babe, I’ve missed you too, so much. I really need to see you,” she says.

  My mind simply can’t process what she’s saying. I’m just lost in the joy of hearing her voice again.

  “Are you in St. Cloud? Have you got another house? Can I come over now? Where are you?”

  The little minx is laughing at me and it stops my barrage of questions.

  “Ben, I need to talk to you. You have the day after tomorrow off, so how about we meet then?”

  “You know, Anna, I’m not even surprised how you know my work schedule. How about you give me your number and I’ll call you?” At least this way I’ll have her number.

  “That may be difficult, considering what’s happening. I’ll call you tomorrow when I can.” Anna sounds concerned, which makes me worry about her.

  “Okay. Will you spend the day with me? I really miss you.”

  “Everything is difficult just now, Ben. But I’ll get in contact with you tomorrow. I’ve got to go.”

  “I love you,” I say just as she hangs up. Maybe she heard me; maybe she didn’t. But it won’t be the last time I’ll tell her how I feel.

  I’m so happy driving back to the station, not because I’m on my way back to work, but because I had a forty-second conversation with my Anna. Because of that, I don’t think there’s much that can bring me down tonight.

  I get to the station and park in my usual spot, all fucking happy. When I walk in, Ophelia accosts me.

  “You got called in too, Ophelia?”

  “Looks like it might be an all hands on deck, Ben.”

  Fuck, like I don’t have enough fucking problems.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, waiting for someone to bring me up to speed.

  “Shortly after you and I left, there was a 911 call about something exploding over on Pioneer Lane. Lewis and Scott were the first to arrive and found the house with the front door blown off the hinges.” Ophelia says as she’s looking over some paperwork.

  “Okay. That’s what I was called in for?” This isn’t making sense to me.

  “Not exactly, Ben. Lewis and Scott went into the house and found the husband and wife dead in bed with a bullet in each of their heads. Nothing taken, nothing disturbed, just shot in the head and the front door blown open.” Ophelia stops talking and looks at me, waiting for me to say something.

  “It sounds like a hit,” I say.

  Anna… could it be her?

  “That’s what I’m thinking, Ben.”

  “Come on. Let’s go see what we can find out.” Ophelia’s right behind, and we take my car to drive over to Pioneer Lane. We get there quickly and are soon inside the house, looking around.

  The forensic team is at the house, going over every detail. This was definitely a clean hit. They each had one bullet to the head, dead center, right between the eyes. They wouldn’t have known what hit them.

  “Who are they, Ophelia?” I point to the man and woman lying dead in bed.

  “Jason and Michelle McClennan. They owned a hardware store over near McKinley Park. Married eight years. She’s twenty-nine and he’s thirty. No record at all. We’re canvassing the neighbors, but everyone says they were a nice, quiet hardworking couple.”

  Not likely.

  I look over the entire room and something doesn’t feel quite right. The front door’s been blown off its hinges. Their bedroom is upstairs and at the back of the house. They would have woken immediately by the front door exploding and they would undoubtedly have come to investigate.

  What are we missing? Who would put a hit out on two people who own a fucking hardware store, and have no fucking vices, or at least none their neighbors knew about?

  “Get back to the station and access all their financials. I’m staying here to see what else I can find around the house.”

  Ophelia doesn’t ask any questions, just turns to one of the officers and tells him to drive her back to work.

  I notice as I look around how there isn’t any sign of struggle anywhere. They must have been dead to the world when they were shot dead. So what the fuck’s going on?

  Forensics techs are all over the place, dusting for prints, taking photos, and doing what they do.

  I end up spending the next three hours here, going over the entire house and can’t find a fucking thing out of place. The bodies are eventually transported to the morgue and I assign two officers to stay for the rest of their shift, until I can send two more to relieve them.

  No matter where I look in this house, there’s something off, something I can’t put my finger on, but I know there’s something wrong.

  By the time I get home it’s 4:00 in the morning. I need to be up and back at work by 8:00. I have a quick shower and then make my way over to bed. My head hits the pillow and my first thought is how Anna called me tonight, and I’ll see her soon.

  I really hope she isn’t responsible for this hit, but it looks like a professional job. It wasn’t as elegant as one of her assassinations would be, though. So I’m pretty sure it wasn’t her.

  My mind’s starting to slow down and I’m drifting off to sleep when I get a text message. I look at the time; it’s 4:56.

  I miss you. - A

  I miss you too baby girl. - B

  I smile, and my cock stirs awake.

  I want to kiss you - A

  I want to do more than just kiss - B

  Just thinking about what I want to do to her is sending more blood to my cock.

  Tomorrow 10:00 a.m.? - A

  Where? - B

  How about you cook me brunch? - A

  Can I feast on you after brunch? ;) - B

  10:00 a.m. I’ll see you then. - A

  She didn’t say I could eat her, but really I don’t fucking care, just as long as I get to see her again. It’s been a long fifteen months.

  My body comes alive with excitement and won’t calm down.

  But my eyelids are so heavy that each blink gets longer and longer. The next few hours are spent dreaming of a dark-haired beauty.

  Ben

  Beep

  Beep

  Beep

  Beep

  Fucking alarm!

  I was having the best dream about Anna and the fucking stupid alarm decided to go off. It feels like I only just put my head on the pillow, I suppose, because I did. It’s 7:00 and the damn alarm won’t shut the fuck up.

  Already exhausted, I drag myself up out of bed and get ready for work.

  I dress in jeans and a shirt. Today, I’ll be staying in the office to review the information on the McClennans.

  After toast and coffee, I drive down to the station. I push all other problems out of my mind and focus on the McClennan case. I look over all the financials of husband and wife, and nothing looks out of place to me. They ran a very successful hardware business.

  Who knew selling nails and hammers could result in such a high profits?

  Their personal financials look as healthy as their business.

  As I delve into their history, I can’t see anything that would qualify them for a professional assassination. Neither has any immediate family. Both were only children, and both sets of parents died naturally. No record of anything mysterious or terrible in either person’s background. They weren’t able to have children naturally and were on the waiting list for adoption. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like they were going to be receiving that call any
time soon. All over the world, adoption is a difficult thing with loads of red tape to cut through.

  It’s lunch time and my eyes were burning from lack of sleep. My body’s protesting and lethargic. Ophelia comes into my office and plonks her ass down and starts talking. “So I’m thinking they’re way too clean to be killed for no reason.”

  “Ophelia, I’m heading out to lunch. Can we talk about this when I get back?” But she does have a very valid point. They were too clean for an assassination hit.

  “I’ll come with you and we can talk over lunch.” This feels wrong, but seeing as my body aches, my eyes are stinging and I was planning to quit early, I figure an hour spent talking about the case over lunch with Ophelia won’t hurt.

  “Well come on, then. I feel like sushi. You okay with that?” It’s more of a statement than a question, but Ophelia nods and is out the door before I even have my keys in my hand.

  We’re seated in Sushi Heaven when Ophelia starts talking, “Ben, the case seems all wrong to me. I mean, here are two people with no incriminating pasts and they get killed in their sleep. Their neighbors thought they were great, their customers loved them. Something just doesn’t fit into the equation.” She’s right, of course, because I’ve had the same thought since I walked into their house early this morning.

  “Unless, we’re talking about a serial killer,” I say, but even as the words leave me I shake my head ‘no’, because I don’t believe it.

  “I don’t think so.” Ophelia agrees as she grabs some sushi from the conveyer belt going around.

  “I know, nothing fits with this case. A serial killer wouldn’t take time to blow their door up. And that’s the other thing, Ophelia. Why didn’t they hear the door being blown up and come running down stairs to confront the killer?” I’m eating prawns when I get a text on my phone.

  Gee, I hope this isn’t a date? - A

  I smile automatically and look around me. I shake my head ‘no’, knowing she’s somewhere close by and watching me.

  That’s good, babe. She’s pretty though – A

  “Looks like you’ve sorted your complicated ‘seeing someone’ out,” Ophelia says and she air quotes seeing someone.

  “You could say that.” I smile but shake my head no to Anna’s last text.

  Come on Ben, you can’t say she’s not attractive. Anyway, behave yourself and I’ll see you at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow morning. By the way…- A

  I nod my head once waiting for her to finish that text.

  I’m always watching - A

  And with that a huge grin erupts from my lips. I shake my head and cast my eyes down in a playful manner.

  Fuck she’s just made me hard. For the next half hour, I’m in a very uncomfortable position, preoccupied by thoughts of Anna, as Ophelia tries to turn the conversation from the McClennans to my personal life.

  “Ben, have you got any family?” she asks casually.

  “Ophelia, really that’s none of your business. Anyway, about the McClennans…” I start to say when she interrupts me.

  “Look, I’ve worked with you for a year now and I know absolutely nothing about you. I’m only asking if you have any family, you know sisters, brothers, cousins, your Mom and Dad. Don’t take everything so fucking seriously.” She seems pissed off.

  “What family I have has no importance to the work we have to do, Ophelia. Ask anyone at the station and they’ll tell you the same thing. No one knows anything about me, and that’s the way I like it.”

  You can say that again Ben.

  “I’m good at what I do.” And don’t I know it. “And that’s what counts, so I’d prefer you stop asking me intrusive questions.”

  There, that should end all personal – and possibly dangerous – conversations.

  I have taken all my family photos off the walls, and no longer talk about anything personal at the station after what happened with Ethan Martelli, a.k.a. Anthony Mancini, Jr. last year. I don’t want my peers knowing anything more than what information I give them, and I’ve been very careful to keep that to a minimum.

  “Whatever, Ben. Let’s get back to work.” She stands and pays her bill, then heads out to the car. She’s damn infuriating and I shake my head at her. I settle my bill and follow her outside.

  I sneak a look around me to see if I can spot Anna anywhere. Who am I kidding? If Anna doesn’t want to be seen, Anna won’t be seen.

  I remain at work on the McClennan case for another three hours, with no more answers to show for it than what I had when I came into work this. So I leave and head to the grocery store for supplies because I’ll be preparing a feast for my Anna tomorrow.

  I know how much she loves my cooking and I’m going to use that to keep her with me for as long as I can by tempting her in every fucking way I can, be it with food or with me.

  I get a shopping cart and am making my way through the store. Suddenly a specific memory of a trip to the grocery store Mom and I made when I was around six years old floats forward in my mind.

  “Ben Honey, can you help me pick the tomatoes?” Mom asked me.

  I looked at all the fresh vegetables on display and wanted to eat everything there.

  “How about this one, Mommy?” I picked up a tomato and held it so hard it dripped through my fingers. Mom looked at me and started laughing.

  “Sweetheart, you can’t hold it that tightly. You’ll squish it.” She took a tissue out of her bag and cleaned my hands.

  “Sorry, Mommy. How about this one? It tastes good.” I hand her a tomato that I took a huge bite out of.

  “Ben, you can’t eat them until we pay for them and wash them.” Mom’s doubled over in hysterics now.

  “But they look so yummy. Can I help you with the peppers too, Mommy?”

  “Not if you’re going to eat them before we get out of the supermarket, honey.”

  I smile at that memory of Mom as I continue shopping, collecting what I need for my baby girl tomorrow.

  Ben

  I wake up flying high, overjoyed because my baby girl will be here soon. It’s only six in the morning, but I can’t wait for Anna to get here.

  I try to kill some time by having a long, hot shower.

  My mind starts racing through everything that’s happened over the last couple of weeks.

  I need to refocus on Anna and what we’ll be doing today. I also need to ask her about the McClennans. Although I doubt it was her, maybe she’s heard something about it.

  Once my mind is at least partially under my control, my body registers that the water’s starting to run cool. I get out and see I’ve been in the shower for over an hour. Dressing in black Armani jeans and a grey polo, I head into the kitchen.

  I start by making batter for the French toast and get the coffee machine running. A text arrives on my phone and I smile before I even read the fucking thing.

  Should I come early? – A.

  You can come whenever you want. – B.

  I’m beaming at my not-so-subtle innuendo.

  I might come now….. Are you ready for me? – A.

  Cheeky little vixen.

  I’m always ready for you to come – B.

  I hear nothing back from Anna and continue working in the kitchen, getting things ready for brunch that’s now turned into breakfast.

  I get a frying pan out of the cupboard and I feel two arms slowly slide around my waist.

  Her entire body presses against my back. I put the frying pan on the counter and stand totally still, enjoying the feel of Anna’s body on mine.

  Her hands lazily, deliberately roam my torso, coming dangerously close to my very hard cock. Her warm breath heats the back of my neck and I feel a tiny stroke of her hot, wet tongue. I angle my neck so she can continue, leaning right into her touch.

  “Fuck, I missed you so much.” It comes out more like a growl then actual words.

  Anna lets out a small giggle. One of her hands is up under my shirt and the other is making easy work of my jean buttons. I place
both my hands on the kitchen counter and hope to God my knees don’t buckle from excitement.

  Anna pulls my shirt off over my head. As she leans up against me, I can feel her naked breasts pressing hard into my back. Fuck, she’s nude and she feels fantastic. Warm, soft and electric.

  “God, Anna, you feel so….” I can’t even finish speaking when her hand slips into my boxers and grabs onto my cock, squeezing it with so much force I don’t know if I’m going to come or yell.

  “Fuck me…”

  “That’s the plan,” she says as she ducks under my arms and stands in front me. She doesn’t give me a chance to say anything. She latches onto my lips and her tongue takes ownership of my mouth, working it in exactly the way I like. I press my body up against hers and my hands start roaming her naked body. Fuck, I think I’m going to come. My jeans are unbuttoned and she pushes them all the way down, freeing the cock that’s eager for her.

  I step out of my jeans and I tug her thighs up. She jumps up on the counter and wraps her legs around me, locking her ankles around my waist. Her tight little pussy teases my cock.

  “You’re a bad girl for teasing me like that.” I lift her and carry her off to the bedroom, my hands squeezing her ass all the while. My tongue is synchronized with hers, dancing perfectly together.

  I make it to the bed and throw her down. I stand over her, just taking in the sight of my perfect Anna. She’s spread out on the bed, legs wide, ready for me to fuck her. “Do I have to take matters into my own hands, Ben, or are you going to drive your cock in me?”

  Fuck, that’s all the encouragement I need from her and dive over the bed to grab a condom from the nightstand drawer. Anna’s completely relaxed on the bed with her fingers slowly rubbing her clit. She’s moaning and groaning, making it really fucking difficult for me to concentrate long enough to get the condom on.

  “Baby girl, you’ve got to fucking stop. I can’t get the damned condom on with you doing that.” My breathing is rapid, my eyes focused on her perfect pink pussy, and my hands have gone still while I watch Anna pleasure herself.

  “Ben…” She stops rubbing circles on her clit and my eyes snap up to hers. “Hurry the fuck up.” There’s a smile on her face, but fire’s coming from her eyes and her voice is liquid lust.