by Sco Thorson
there looking smug.
"Dave," TJ declared firmly, "We are not done yet.”
"Can this wait," Dave replied with annoyance.
She walked over to them and showed them the picture on her phone.
"We still must find this guy." TJ continued.
"TJ," he began, but a gasp from Monique cut him off.
"The bastard, it's him," Monique spat.
"You know this guy," Dave asked.
"I came here with him. He’s Max, the bastard that tried to kill me.”
Information Gathering
Wednesday 2:13 pm
Monique's lips curled back as she stared at Max's photo. This was the creep that had not been satisfied with abandoning her like the other morons. He had wanted her dead. She would see him rot in hell.
"Monique, if you know this man, help find him and put him in jail," TJ began.
"Jail," Monique asked, "you can do that?"
"If he is involved in the plot I’m investigating, then yes, we will put him in jail,” TJ responded.
"Let me castrate him first, and then he is yours.”
TJ studied Max's photo. "He looks like he deserves it. Okay, it's a deal."
"Excuse me," Dave interrupted, "but do you know where this guy actually is."
"He has an island off the coast of Central America. We always flew there so I don't know its location."
"What was he doing here in Grand Cayman?" TJ asked him.
"He was buying a business, or a building, and dumping me," Monique declared bitterly.
"Is there any way we can find out what he was buying?" TJ asked.
"His solicitors would know," Monique replied, brightening. “I could get the information out of them."
"Well, that settles it.” Dave beamed. “We just drive down to the solicitors and Monique charms the information out of them. The world will be saved before dinner. I’ll get the car."
Dave started to rise, but Monique gently restrained him.
“I’ll get the car. Girls only this trip.” She smiled at TJ, “Will you join me. You must play the attorney.”
Twenty minutes later Monique emerged from the elevator in a short black dress with single string of pearls. TJ was waiting by the door wearing a dark pinstripe suit and white blouse. Monique lifted a set of keys to the blue BMW M3 from a hook and led the way into the garage.
"Do you remember where the solicitor's office is located," TJ asked as Monique whipped through the main street traffic.
"Of course," Monique smiled, "we drive until we see the Dior gowns, go two more blocks and turn right. When then make a left at the BMW dealership and look for a boring glass building."
10 minutes later they arrived at a modern office building. Monique screeched to a halt in the adjoining parking lot.
"Who should we ask for," TJ asked?
"The attorney handling the sale was Ashcroft," Monique replied. "He was tall with a weasel face and gray hair."
Monique closed her eyes and thought.
"We will see his associate. Griggs. About 30, balding and dumpy. He stared at my breasts."
She gave TJ a quick once over before they went in. She looked serious, professional. The stick to her carrot. They crossed the parking lot and entered the office building.
"We're here to see Mr. Griggs with regards to a transaction that he completed for a client."
The receptionist smiled tightly, nodded, and made a discreet phone call. Five minutes later a young woman emerged through a pair of large wooden doors and ushered TJ and Monique into a large office area. A large floor of cubicles occupied the center of the room with glass walled offices around the periphery. The woman crossed the floor to an office and knocked.
"Enter!"
The woman opened the door and ushered them into the office.
A short, plump man stood and gestured towards a pair of chairs. He smiled unprofessionally, almost wickedly, and began, "Ladies, I was hoping you would come."
Monique settled into the chair on the left, crossed her legs, and hiked up her dress. TJ shook Griggs hand before sitting in the chair on the right. The rear wall of the office was paneled in maple. Framed diplomas occupied the center of the wall, surrounded by golf trophies and golf photos on small shelves.
"My client asked me to pick up a duplicate set of documents for the transaction that you completed," TJ began. "I am sure you know the one we refer to."
Griggs laughed. "Yes, and your ‘client’ called just 30 minutes ago and warned me that you might come snooping.” He turned at leered at Monique. “He was adamant that under no circumstances was I to give you any documents."
TJ mustered some genuine outrage. “There must be some mistake. I received his instructions this morning.”
Griggs smiled and cracked his knuckles. "He also instructed me to call the police and have you arrested."
He stood and walked to the glass wall where he flipped a switch. The blinds in each glass wall rotated slowly to a close position, cutting them off from view.
"I will of course call security and the police," he smiled, "unless."
"Unless," Monique asked calmly.
"Unless you make it worth my while to be magnanimous. I am sure that your former client," he paused, "won't mind."
TJ’s face contorted in horror. “Monique, she stammered.”
Monique smiled. "That is most generous. You won’t be disappointed. But what guarantee do we have that you won't call the police after you get your, favors?"
"My word as a gentleman," Griggs grinned. "I'm sure that'll be enough."
"And the cord for your telephone." Monique insisted.
Griggs thought a moment and nodded.
Monique turned her back to TJ. “Will you unbutton me?”
“Are you insane,” TJ stammered. “We’re not going to, not for this creep.”
“Slowly, honey,” Griggs leered, then stood and removed his jacket, hanging it on a coat rack, before stripping off his tie. Monique removed her nylons, then pulled her dress over her head and stood dressed only panties and a bra. She smiled at Griggs and draped the dress across the back of her chair, then crossed to the office door. She turned the lock with a loud snick. TJ stared, horrified.
"Come around here, honey," Griggs waved to TJ. "They'll be plenty of fun for all."
TJ stiffly walked around Grigg’s desk. Then as he bent over to untie his shoe, she snatched one of the golf trophies from the wall and bashed him over the head. He fell heavily to the ground.
"Oh, Mon Cher," Monique shook her head, "you don't understand men. This way is so much more trouble. If we had done as he asked, we would have been far away with the documents in 15 minutes, maybe 10."
TJ exploded, "This little creep is not getting favors from me, no matter how efficient it is."
Monique just shrugged. She quickly studied her reflection in the glass wall, and nodded approvingly.
TJ began opening Grigg’s desk drawers, rifling through the contents. She found a small bag of white powder and set it on the desk.
"That could be useful," Monique noted as she pulled her dress back over her head.
TJ turned to a credenza and began looking through a rack of folders.
"Does the name is Sunrise Air sound familiar?"
Monique joined her. "That is promising. Let me see the papers."
She stepped over Griggs, set the folder on the desk, and studied the papers. They described the purchase of a small, exclusive airline.
"This is it," Monique beamed, "let's straighten things up and take it with us."
She dumped a small amount of powder onto the desk. With a pen, she cut it into three parallel lines. Next, she turned to face her reflection in the window wall carefully mussed up her hair. Then she hiked up her dress until the hem was just at her crouch, tucked her nylons into her purse so that the ends dangled out, and nodded at TJ.
They slipped quickly out the door, but she turned back
and blew a kiss through the door. The office went silent as every worker turned to stare. Monique shut the door, pausing to pull her dress back into place and stuff the ends of the nylons into her purse. They walked quickly through the office space and out the double doors into the lobby. Moments later they pulled out of the parking lot.
“I can’t believe it,” TJ began. “I bashed him in the head.”
After a moment, she continued. “He deserved it.”
Monique looked in the mirror to reapply her lipstick. “They always do.”
“The cocaine and nylons were a nice touch,” TJ continued. “Do you do this often?”
Monique pressed her lips together and sighed. “Too often.”
TJ looked at Monique. "So, what do we do now?"
Monique shrugged. "Return to the villa, contact your boss, finish the job."
"You work for Dave?"
"Not really, I just met him yesterday. He is very generous."
"Just how generous?"
Monique called her cell phone from her purse and opened a nap.
"So far, $100,000."
TJ was stunned. "That's better than a MacArthur Genius Award."
Monique passed a tourist bus, avoiding an oncoming truck by inches.
"He pays you for sex?"
“Men hate to pay for sex." Monique smiled, "but they are generous if they think they are getting the sex for free."
“To bad I hooked up with him when he was poor.”
“You knew Dave, before this?”
“We went to graduate school together. For some insane reason, I thought he was going to marry me. The man is nothing but trouble. First he dumps me and now he’s wrecking my career.”
“But he’s rich. He should buy you a new career.”
TJ seethed, saying nothing.
“Don’t worry. I will show you how. And there doesn’t even have to be any sex. Well, not much.”
Her phone chimed.