by Sam Cheever
The problem was, he was pretty sure she'd never speak to him again if he did what he knew was the right thing. The choice really came down to losing her or watching her get badly hurt or even killed.
Brian was under no illusions about the type of people Debra was playing with, and it scared the shit out of him. As usual she wasn't taking the danger aspect seriously enough. She never did. She'd led a pampered and spoiled life and, in some ways, she was still a child. She wanted what she wanted when she wanted it and god help anyone who got in her way.
So despite the fact, Brian reasoned, that she would probably never speak to him again, he cared too much for her to let her set the course she'd laid out for herself. There was only one thing he could do.
He picked up the phone and dialed. When a voice came on the other end he took a deep breath, almost hung up the phone, but then stiffened his spine and said, “Can I talk to the officer in charge of the Burns kidnapping please?"
Debra picked up Louie's cell phone and punched in a number. The line was answered almost immediately.
"What do you want, asshole?"
"It's me."
"Oh. I take it that means Louie's incapacitated."
Remembering what the thug had looked like the last time she'd seen him, bent over holding his balls with a white, plastic knife sticking out of his neck, she smiled. “Yeah. You could say that."
"Good. Have you made the call?"
"I have. I asked for ten million dollars."
The person at the other end whistled. “That's a good number."
She smiled again. “I thought so too."
"Okay. Let's stay as close to the plan as possible. I'll meet you at the plane as soon as you get the money."
"Okay. I'll call you when I have it. Cheers!” She lowered the little, silver phone and started to flip it closed.
"Wait!"
Debra pulled the cell phone back up to her ear. “Yeah?"
"What about Davies?"
She shrugged and moved toward the window. Standing to the side she peered around the curtains. “He's sitting in his car in the back parking lot, under my window. I think he's been watching me. He doesn't have what it takes to do this. I can't count on him. I'm gonna get out of here and find a better place to wait for the money."
"Good. That's smart. You'll have enough money where we're going to buy ten boyfriends if you want to."
Debra grinned, “Now that sounds like a plan.” She disconnected and slipped on her shoes. Grabbing her designer leather bag she headed for the door. If she slipped out the front door and took a taxi Brian wouldn't even know she'd left the hotel. Maybe she'd go to her mother's house in Carmel for a couple of days. Her mother wouldn't even know she'd been there. She didn't use the place except when she wanted to throw a large party or impress rich acquaintances who loved dirt, manure, and horses.
Debra shivered. It wouldn't be her favorite place to be. But she could make do for a couple of days. She'd just pretend she was hiding out in the jungle. With all the flippin’ trees around the place it was pretty much like a jungle anyway. Not all that much of a stretch.
As she climbed into the taxi she considered the possibility of snakes and bugs. Sighing she gave the driver an address and sat back to pout. Damn Brian. He ruined everything. Now she had to go fend off wildlife and risk mud puddles. All because he had raisins for balls. It was time to cut him loose anyway.
* * * *
* * * *
Brita waited impatiently until she was ushered into the DA's office. He didn't stand up or even acknowledge her as she came into the room. “DA Burns.” She held out her hand.
He glanced up and motioned toward one of the plush, black leather chairs across from his desk, ignoring the offered hand as usual. “Sit down, Detective Muldane. You might as well be comfortable while you tell me you've made no progress on my daughter's case."
Brita sat and crossed her arms over her knees. Her right hand fiddled with the butt of her gun, hidden under her suit jacket. When she realized she was thinking about pulling it out and using it she quickly pulled the hand away to ease temptation. “Actually sir we've learned that your daughter has escaped her kidnappers."
The district attorney looked up, his deep set brown eyes narrowed in surprise. “When did this happen?"
"She escaped sometime last night. Your wife ... your ex-wife ... received a call from her this morning."
He lowered the pen he'd been writing with and gave her his full attention. “Where is she? I'd like to see her. Find out if she's all right."
The words were right but the tone and attitude behind them were just a bit off. Brita prided herself on reading people and, right at that moment, she was reading a lack of real interest in DA Burns’ manner. He wanted her to believe he cared that his daughter had escaped. But Brita would bet a year's salary that he didn't. “She wouldn't tell her mother where she was."
The DA slammed a meaty fist on his desk. Several pens flipped into the air. One of them headed toward Brita. She reached up and snagged it out of the air before it hit her face, handing it back to the red faced man behind the desk.
He frowned at her. “Good reflexes Muldane."
"Thank you sir. I played fast-pitch softball in college. Captain of my team."
Burns shook his head. Brita saw his interest in her drain away. She wasn't important enough apparently to keep it.
"I take it you haven't heard from her sir?"
Burns glared at her but didn't respond.
Brita nodded, “How about the kidnappers? Have they tried to contact you?"
He shook his head, “I've been very concerned. I don't know why they haven't called. But I guess if Debra's okay it's not that important anymore."
Brita's intense, golden eyes fixed on him thoughtfully. These Burns folks were certainly a forgiving lot. Just like that they're ready to forgive the kidnappers, as long as the daughter came out of it safely. Very strange. She opened her mouth to tell the DA something along those lines when her cell rang.
Looking at caller ID she saw it was her partner, Bud Shinks. She'd been waiting for his call. “Excuse me, sir, this is important.” Flipping it open she said, “Bud. Talk to me."
"The call came from a cell phone. It was registered to one Louie Vittorini."
"Did you run him?"
"I did. He did some time about ten years ago. Just a couple of years for stuff like picking pockets and grabbing purses at bus stops. When he came out he got a job at a company called Black Knight. As far as I can tell it's a security company."
Brita frowned, “Security? As in alarm systems?"
"No. As in bodyguards. They apparently provide protection for visiting entertainers and political folks, in some cases even foreign dignitaries."
"Why not White Knight?"
Bud laughed, “You have the strangest mind, Muldane."
She shrugged, “What can I say. Give me the address please.” She punched it into her PDA. “Have you run the company yet?"
She heard him sigh, “First run gave me nothing. The company ownership is obscure to say the least. I've got my best investigator working on it but it's gonna take some time. I think whoever owns the company doesn't want anybody to know he owns it."
Brita frowned, “Okay, let me know if you come up with anything."
"You got it."
Brita disconnected and looked at the DA. “You know a Louie Vittorini or a company called Black Knight?"
The DA picked up a pen and started spinning it between his thick fingers. “Isn't Black Knight some kind of security agency?"
"That would be them. You don't by any chance know who owns the company do you?"
He shook his head, giving her a wry smile. “I barely know of the company, Detective."
She nodded and smiled, “It was worth a try. How about Mr. Vittorini?"
"Don't know him. Is he involved with my daughter's kidnapping?"
Brita stood up. “We don't know yet sir, all we know is that she was using
his cell phone. For all we know he could be a boyfriend."
"It's not likely my daughter would be dating a guy like that, Detective."
Brita stared at him. “Really? What kind of guy is Louie Vittorini?"
The DA's face flushed and the pen spun off to land in his In Box. “How the hell would I know, Muldane?"
Brita held his gaze, “You tell me. You said she wouldn't go out with his type. How would you know Mr. Vittorini's type, sir?"
The DA stood up and walked around the desk. He stopped just inches away from her, well inside the two foot politeness buffer. “The man's a body guard isn't he? There's a certain type of man who does that job, Detective. That's all I was saying. What exactly are you implying?"
Brita was used to bullies, they didn't bother her at all. She was trained in martial arts, guns, knives, and she was even fairly competent in fencing. She could take care of herself.
Besides, she was taller than he was and he was pudgy.
She leaned into him and spoke softly, enunciating every word. “I wasn't implying anything, DA Burns. I was simply trying to clarify your surprising statement. Goodbye, sir."
She felt his hostile gaze on her back all the way to the door. As she left the building she was calling Bud. He picked up almost before it finished ringing for the first time.
"Hey."
"I need you to get someone to run DA Burns for me. Find out if he's ever used the Black Knight agency. Specifically if he's ever hired Mr. Vittorini as a bodyguard."
"Holy shit, Brita!"
"I know. Just do it."
He sighed, “Yes sir!” and hung up.
Brita disconnected and made a phone call she hadn't planned on making for a while. Percy wasn't at his desk so she left him a message to call her. She climbed into her car and programmed the address for the Black Knight Agency into her Garmin™. If she got really lucky Mr. Vittorini would be in the office when she arrived.
* * * *
* * * *
"That's the weirdest lantern I've ever seen."
Alastair picked it up and held it in front of her face. “Your teeth are glowing."
She laughed pushing it away. “Why the hell would they have a black light in the lantern?"
He shrugged, “Beats me.
Alastair set it down in the sand and plucked another piece of cold chicken off the plate between them. Then he leaned back with a happy sigh. Angie dropped her freshly stripped chicken leg onto the plate and grabbed an apple. “This tastes pretty good."
Alastair nodded, “My mom's fried chicken is the best. And there's nothing like a little face-off with death to give you an appetite.
Angie nodded. She took a small, thoughtful bite of her apple. Juice ran down her chin and she reached for a napkin. But Alastair reached over and grabbed her chin before she could wipe it. He held it gently between his thumb and forefinger and leaned close. “Let me help you with that.” His tongue slipped out from between softly parted lips and made a slow, warm trail from her chin up to her bottom lip. “Mmm,” he said as he lifted his mouth from hers, “I love apple juice, don't you?"
Angie swallowed the bite of apple audibly. Her voice came out in a choked whisper, “I do yes ... but you've just put it in a whole new category for me."
He laughed and captured her lips in a slightly more aggressive kiss. Angie leaned into it, enjoying the way warmth tingled from her lips throughout her body at his touch. She immersed herself in the feel of his lips on hers, his strong arms sliding around her waist, and the way his hair felt soft and bristly at once under her probing fingers.
Alastair reached under her butt and lifted slightly, sliding her smoothly down the blanket until she was on her back half underneath him. The kiss deepened as passion flared between them. Angie wrapped a leg around his thighs and caressed his calf, enjoying the way the soft, red hairs tickled her leg.
Alastair covered her body with his own, taking most of his weight on his elbows so he wouldn't crush her. The lower half of his body pressed hard into hers.
Angie moaned and slid her hands under his Marine green t-shirt to caress the firm, warm skin of his chest. She trailed her nails gently up his ribcage and Alastair sighed in pleasure against her lips. Her fingers tweaked his nipples and then traveled to find the small patch of soft hairs between the perfect mounds of his pecs. She was enjoying the feel of the silky patch as he slid a hand under her Marine green.
Angie gasped as his hand found her breast. He stiffened in surprise and lifted his head to look at her, apparently just realizing she'd gone commando under the t-shirt.
Angie grinned at him. “The dress was casual tonight."
He waggled his eyebrows comically, making her laugh. “I've always liked casual dress."
"Me too.” She agreed with a giggle.
His lips lowered to hers again and wiped the smile right off her face. She pulled her hand from beneath his t-shirt and wrapped both arms around his neck, dragging him down into a kiss that was suddenly filled with vibrant need. Alastair inhaled her desire and fed it with his own.
His body pulsed and throbbed with urgency and he thought he'd die if he didn't get naked and embed himself deeply into her very soon. With that goal uppermost in his mind, Alastair broke the kiss and reached for the soft cotton at the waist of Angie's shirt. Lifting it up with the intention of pulling it off over her head, he caught a glimpse of a plump naked breast with a perfect pink nipple and his mind completely drained of every thought but the one where he drew that perfect nipple into his mouth. He allowed this wonderful fantasy to guide him and did just that. Lowering his mouth to the hard, little bud, he parted his lips and covered it, pulling it gently into his mouth on a sigh.
Angie moaned and arched her back, holding his head to her quivering breast as if she was afraid he'd leave before finishing the job. Alastair gently sucked on the soft, fragrant mound and then moved to the other breast, which was just as delicious and just as eager for his mouth, already peaking with need as he lowered his lips around it.
Angie's hands kneaded his short, red hair frantically as he gently ministered to her breasts. Suddenly she gave the bristly strands a tug. “We need to get rid of these clothes."
Alastair complied by pulling her t-shirt the rest of the way off over her head and then helping her pull his shirt off too.
His nimble fingers made short work of the button and zipper of her camo-pants and he had them over her narrow hips and off her feet within seconds. He stopped for a moment to take in the perfection of her lean form. Angie lay before him on the blanket, caressed by the soft light of a bright, fat moon, her pale skin glowing slightly from the black light lantern at their feet. Her long, brown hair curled softly over her shoulders and around her breasts. A matching patch of brown silk made a perfect triangle between her thighs. “You're beautiful.” Alastair breathed.
Angie made a small sound that was suspiciously like a whimper. “Get your clothes off, Stair."
It was the first time she'd used the nickname his family had used for years. More than anything else she'd done, that small thing cemented firmly into his mind how much he needed and wanted to have her, in his bed and in his life for the foreseeable future.
He popped the button on the camo-pants with one hand and unzipped them. Angie helped him drag them down to his knees and he kicked them off. Her hands were on his throbbing erection before he managed to untangle the pants from his feet and fling them away onto the sand.
He nearly groaned at the incredible feeling of her hands on his shaft and balls. She seemed less skilled than curious but her instincts for what would feel good to him were spot on. He leaned his head on one elbow and closed his eyes, allowing her unfettered access to the part of his body he fully intended to bury deep inside her at the earliest opportunity. It seemed right, for the moment, to enjoy the exploration she seemed to want.
Her hands were incredibly soft and felt like warm silk against his taut, over sensitized skin. She held his erection in one hand, gently ca
ressing the fat tip with a finger as she cupped his balls gently with the other hand, squeezing lightly and running a finger over the spot just behind them that sent lightning bolts of pleasure up his spine whenever she touched it.
He was nearly panting after only a couple of minutes and knew he had to make her stop or all the fun would be over even before it had started.
Grabbing her hand, Alastair gently pushed her onto her back beside him, and tucked her tightly against his body. He slid his finger into his mouth to wet it and reached out to encircle the rigid, pink nipple closest to him with the moistened finger, enjoying the way the skin of her nipple puckered under his touch. Then he ran the finger across the soft mound and over to the other nipple, repeating the caress there.
Angie moaned in delighted frustration and tried to grab him again. He twisted his hips away and stuck the finger he'd been tantalizing her body with between her parted lips. She closed her lips over the invading digit and sucked it into the hot, wet cave of her mouth, wrapping her tongue around it and using her lips to hold it firmly in place as she sucked gently.
Alastair pulled the finger out of her mouth and slid it into another hot, wet spot that eagerly accepted it. Angie cried out as the finger plunged deep into the core of her building pleasure and started moving in the age-old rhythm of the sexual dance.
As he made gentle love to her with his finger, Alastair's thumb found the hard, little bud that held the key to her pleasure and rubbed it in a gentle, but insistent circular motion. Angie's head dropped back almost immediately and she cried out in violent release, her slim body vibrating with intense pleasure.
Alastair lowered his lips to hers as she settled into the aftershocks of her orgasm. He rolled away from her just long enough to slip a condom on and then moved to cover her, rubbing his hard flesh against her belly as his lips found her neck and his hands caressed her slim hips. She arched against him, begging him with her body to join the dance. He groaned as the silky skin of her belly caressed the hard length of him and slid into her. Angie gasped and immediately fell over the edge into another climax.