“Now, little lady,” he gasped. “I thought we were friends here. Why don’t you put your shiny baby away, so we can work out this misunderstanding?” And they actually did. He really warmed up to her after she put her blade away. Who knew he would have a thing for knives and blondes? Maybe this would be easier than she thought.
“Okay, lover, time to saddle up.”
“What did you say?”
She looked at his face in surprise, his tone of voice sounding strangled. His big head sat half in shadow, the streetlights failing to fully dispel the winter darkness.
“You alright, lover?” She placed a concerned hand on his meaty thigh. His big pudgy maw slipped down onto hers and he softly patted her hand. In the shadows, she could see a surprisingly enigmatic smile under his crooked nose. She had him. She didn’t know what had just happened, but she knew. She had him.
*
Armoni fidgeted, glancing at his Rolex. Time to get his hotel room packed up. He floated, high on an emotional cloud. All thanks to Ginger Mae Shrute. His very own high-class dream girl. And boy could she suck cock. No wonder the guys always wanted the high-class babes. Who knew? Now he could join the club. A fine babe like her didn’t come along very often. And she liked knives. Best of all, she liked him. He hadn’t minded a bit when, after their night of fucking, she had needed the bucks to have a limo take her home. Of course that’s how she got around town. And, after all, her date woulda taken her home. Good thing the bum never showed.
Luck had sure smiled down on him. Packing up all the new things Ginger Mae had helped him buy for himself took a long time. He hoped she wasn’t running late, like him. She asked that most of the goodies he splurged on for her go directly to her home address. She planned to send for them after they got to Florida. Yup, she was going with him.
They had fooled around so much that he had decided to delay his trip for a full week. He bent over a box, wincing as the soreness of his cock reminded him of all the fucking they’d done. She sure was hot for him and his cock; definitely a lot to handle for such a sweetie. And he truly sensed something else in her. Something like he felt in himself and Kelly. He fully intended to bring it to the surface. Yeah, his plans for her made him hard. He just had to be careful how he introduced her to them. She probably nurses some tender sensibilities, a dame like her.
He filled her in a little, watching closely to see how she reacted to it. He left some of the details vague. Like how his sister and Tomas’s murder had gone down. He wasn’t really sure how it had happened himself. She knew he lusted for revenge, and she thought he aimed to recover something valuable they’d stolen from him.
She flipped over the idea to go with him, even though it meant she had to quit her important job with a small investment company on Wall Street. He might need some investment advice himself, for sure. Maybe, if things worked out the way he hoped, he’d marry her ass and make her take care of all that.
The only fly in the ointment? Her infernal insistence on all those showers and baths. For Christ sakes, what a pain in my ass. He tolerated it only because she let him take a few special sexual liberties; made him feel like a king.
He glanced at his watch, beginning to worry. What the heck was taking her so long? He had given her plenty of money to break her lease and pay off her landlord. He expected it to take a while; after all, she needed to put all her expensive furniture in storage. She had admitted to being a spendthrift. Good thing he would get his hands on more gold. At the rate she used money, he’d be broke in no time. These classy babes demand expensive upkeep. Makes sense, he figured, only the best for the best.
He heard a knock at the door. Relief made Armoni’s legs turn to jelly. His girl had made it. He rushed to the door, happiness plastered all over his grotesque mug. As he opened the door, Ginger Mae breezed in with a quick kiss on the lips and an unusually tense look on her elegant face.
His brows scrunched up, a question on the tip of his tongue, when Ginger Mae moved aside, slipping her arm around a frightened little girl hiding behind her skirt: small with dark brown, almost black, silken hair worn loose and long. Her skin pale, almost translucent. But her eyes, they grabbed him. Her pupils, devoid of almost all color, reflected a piercingly intelligent all-knowing quality. He could see a small resemblance to Ginger Mae, as the girl clearly reflected the same elegance.
“What the fuck is this, Ginger Mae?”
Ignoring Armoni, Ginger Mae knelt down in front of the girl, whispered in her ear and directed her to a blush silk divan in the corner. She turned to Armoni with a contrite and pious look on her face.
“This is my brother’s daughter. Her mother ran off after her birth. My brother served in the Army, stationed in North Korea. We lost him during the slaughter in the mist of the Bau Liberation, when Daisy turned six months old. I’m her only relative. She’s my responsibility now. She thinks I’m her mother. It’s easier that way.” Turning to Daisy, she sent her an air kiss.
Continuing in a whisper, she turned back to Armoni. “She’s mute. We have to take her with us. I can’t leave her behind. Don’t worry, she won’t get in the way, lover.”
“I didn’t sign up for no brat to come with us.” Armoni started pacing, seeing all his plans go up in smoke. Ginger Mae looked over to Daisy with a reassuring glance. She grabbed Armoni’s hand and pulled him into the huge bathroom. She slowly started to remove her clothes, not taking her eyes off Armoni.
“Well, I guess we’re going to have to say goodbye then. So let’s do it properly. I need something to remember you by.”
Armoni watched her body reveal itself. That bitching body belonged to him. He had practically paid for it. He ran his hands over her breasts, squeezing them painfully. The look on Ginger Mae’s face showed only sadness and passion.
“Oh baby, give it to me, please, I need you one more time.”
Was that a tear falling down her beautiful cheek? She must feel really broken up about this. He stared at her face, those eyes, those cheekbones, wondering how much he would miss her. He felt her fingers at his zipper and the cool moisture of her expert tongue on his cock. Moaning, he ran his fingers through her hair. He melted under her onslaught, helpless to give her up. Exasperated, he realized the kid would have to come. Somehow, he would need to adjust. At least things remained under his control and Ginger Mae still belonged to him. His plan remained intact, with a minor adjustment for the kid. Relieved, he turned his full attention to her breasts, biting down hard enough to hear her muffle a scream. He still needed to remind her who wore the pants. Looking into her bewitching face, he saw it tighten, her eyes flashing an obvious, ill-concealed gleam of contempt. The perpetually obtuse Armoni, mistaking it for passion, excitedly bit down hard again, feeling like he had died and gone to heaven.
Chapter 25
Abby and Jose sat in green and white striped lounge chairs on the flagstone terrace above their natural rock waterfall where they could observe Scotty, happily tossing Echo into the shallow end of the pool. Barney chaotically lunged at the water, jumping back, not sure of the rules of the new game. Changes had come fast for the family in the five months since they had left Sussex County and moved to Mango Lane, their opulent new home and an unimaginable paradise.
They had installed Peter in the 4,400 square foot, custom, red-tile roofed, Spanish-style waterfront home next door to the right. The lemon-yellow art deco gem to their left remained empty, although fully furnished. They hoped Mama Diaz, Bonnie and Emma would join them soon. The house would knock their socks off.
Abby, Scotty and Jose occupied the 6,800 square foot Tuscan olive Mediterranean dream in the middle with lush landscaping, reminiscent of the famous Selby Gardens in downtown Sarasota; over a hundred and fifty palm trees of eight varieties, lush plumeria and giant jungle geranium. Fortunately, because they were on a tiny island less than half a mile wide, they had saved themselves the unpleasant experience of dealing with the tropical snakes that habitually nested in palm trees. The trees and vibrant fl
owering bushes encompassed the whole property, including across the bay front of the lot. The people who had built the home had sure valued their privacy. The home became a true sanctuary for the beleaguered family.
One of the lovely surprises of the island delighted them all as they enjoyed the presence of a flock of Sand Hill cranes, the most comically amazing birds. Some of the cranes grew as much as five-feet tall with vibrant red caps of feathers on their heads. They imperiously strolled the sidewalks, the streets and the front yards as they pleased. Promenading in pairs or threesomes, they never hurried, they never acknowledged, they never acquiesced. They clearly owned the small island.
Jose stretched in the sun, admiring Abby’s tawny tail as it switched languidly behind her lounge chair. Her hair long and lush, full of the golden silk hairs which had first been discovered the wondrous night that had united them. Their exposure in public now seemed a dangerous adventure as they just plain glowed too much. The three of them were now covered with an exceedingly fine layer of golden fuzz from the neck down. From the distance, it looked like skin, but they found themselves unable to avoid the stares that accompanied close inspection from strangers. All three had developed protrusions on each side of their shoulder blades. Comparing their changes with Echo’s physiology, they suspected the emergence of wings. The idea thrilled them, but would they work? Would it mean flight? Echo’s wings may have functioned at one time, but now they lay lifeless against her furry little back. When asked about the wings, Echo would only reply that she was not an Elder.
Surprisingly, Echo began to pester them with the surprising desire to increase the size of their family—their doggy family. She claimed Barney was lonesome and needed a mate. That’s how it started. Poor Peter. He became the official furry buddy locator. To his credit, he never complained, even when Penny, their new springer spaniel, vomited on the front seat of his gleaming BMW.
Penny behaved like a doll. Liver and white with flowing feather-like fur, she loved people, tolerated other dogs, and exhibited an above-it-all attitude when it came to doggy/Echo horseplay. The next addition was Mimi, a black and white Shih Tzu puppy mill mommy. All used up and ready to throw away, she had luckily been rescued by a devoted group of women committed to the effort. Peter had spotted her at the local pet food store, mistaking her for a skunk until she turned her sweet face around. He couldn’t resist. Poor Mimi, unfortunately afflicted with cataracts, mammary tumors and food aggression, but, it turned out, also desperate for love. Lucky for her, the inhabitants of Mango Lane had plenty to spare.
Scotty’s hands stayed full with the doggy troupe and he appeared to settle into their new environment nicely. He did get a car. A modest maroon Jeep Wolfhound, used mostly on their little island. Jose put his foot down about Scotty driving off the key without being accompanied by one of the adults, including Peter.
Scotty didn’t object much as he spent most of his extra time with his outboard motorboat, large enough for Echo and usually one or two of the dogs. Jose’s number one rule—no exceptions—demanded life jackets for all; especially Echo and the dogs. Scotty knew how to swim, thanks to a summer recreation program at the local town pool in Newtown when he was in seventh and eighth grades. But everyone knew that the currents in the deceptive bay could be tricky. The dogs could become a handful whenever Scotty lucked on a pod of dolphins to chase, the excitement overwhelming them. Scotty struggled to hold them back, their determination to join the dolphins’ play a risk to them all.
The bay teemed with dolphins, all individually known through the studies of the famous Mote Marine Laboratory, located on City Island in the bay in Sarasota. Sarasota Bay, declared by the U.S. Congress an estuary of national significance, boasted an aquarium which opened to the public. The Mote Marine Lab was well known for their studies of sharks, sea turtles, dolphins, red tide, environmental toxins, coral reefs and costal ecology, which beckoned tantalizingly to Scotty. Enlisting Peter, he paid it a visit. A risky business, considering the fact that Peter operated in the dark, still unaware of their true nature.
*
Jose thought back to his miraculous arrival in Sarasota. Knocking on Abby’s door, they had entered her luxury suite at her hotel to find her drawn and frightened. Signs of dried tears had trailed down her pale face. Throwing herself into Jose’s arms, she had babbled that Peter’s secretary was dead. The police had demanded Peter fly back home for questioning. The words murder and rape had hung in the air. Calming her down, Jose had learned that the police wanted him to return too; ostensibly to discuss the issues. Full panic mode had set in, scaring everyone.
Luckily, in all the drama and shock of Tiffany’s rape and murder, Peter’s requested meeting had failed to materialize. Jose had decided to accompany Peter back to Sussex County. He wanted to stay close to the investigation, hoping Armoni would not surface as part of it. But sooner or later, Jose knew Peter would find the time to sit them all down and start asking questions.
While Peter handled questions from the police, Jose had tried to find Mama Diaz and the girls. Not knowing where or how to start, he had wisely hired a private investigator. He had spent half a day filling the investigator in on all he knew of the Diaz family before his adoption. He had felt certain, with the Internet, that it wouldn’t take long before the investigator produced results. Four months later, still no news.
The investigation into Tiffany’s killer had landed at a dead end. Jose had reported the small encounter between Armoni and Tiffany, but the police had dismissed Armoni as a suspect. No motive and negligible connection. Oddly, the police had mentioned that Armoni’s house had been torched on the same day as Tiffany’s murder. There had been no sightings of Armoni since. And the cops didn’t see a connection? Feeling the heavy weight of dread, Jose thought the coincidence ominous.
Bringing his thoughts back to the terrace, he stood up, surveying the lush tropical property and looking down toward the gazebo-bedecked dock where Scotty’s skiff and the colossal green and white yacht swayed gently, water lapping at the hulls.
Captain Cobby glanced his way and gave a friendly wave. Jose waved back, noting Captain Cobby’s twenty-year-old son Kane in the water, scrubbing away at the marks left by the waterline. Jose knew nothing of what it took to be a yacht owner. It was said that the happiest days of a yacht owner’s life were when he purchased his yacht and then again when he resold it. He had yet to discover the veracity of the saying. He really thought it silly for them to own such a vessel, but for some reason Abby had taken a shine to it.
Truth be told, he didn’t believe Abby actually felt happy. He knew something was missing. Not so much about her feelings for him, but something deeper, something profound that she needed to resolve on her own, undoubtedly tied to the death of her mother. It made him sad, knowing he couldn’t help her discover the comfort she needed. But he loved her dearly and hesitated to deny her anything.
As he watched Kane scrub the yacht, he hoped Kane and Scotty could get along better. Territorial resentment had blossomed instantly between the two when they moved in. Jose supposed it was natural. They were so close in age, their relationship was bound to go one way or the other. Apparently Kane saw Scotty as an interloper, and Scotty saw Kane as a macho Italian know-it-all. If Kane’s sullen attitude didn’t improve in time, he would have to talk to his father. They lived in the carriage house behind the art deco home that remained empty. Jose felt having them nearby a great benefit, especially since Captain Cobby also served as security to the property.
Picking up his cellphone, he called Peter for an update on Mama Diaz. Happily, Peter reported the investigator had finally made some progress. They had located the family near a suburb of Short Hills, not far from the area where Abby used to live in as a child, probably a mere coincidence. They both agreed that Jose should be the one to fly to New Jersey to break the news of Tomas’s death and convince them to move to Florida. Jose decided to talk to Abby about it later that night. He wanted to keep close, hoping to keep her upbeat.
Her moods vacillated so widely these days, he wanted to get a good day under their belt before she learned he would be leaving.
*
Scotty knew he must always wear a long-sleeved shirt over his swim trunks when he was on the water and around the backyard, but Echo presented a larger problem. She insisted on going with Scotty when he took the skiff out. Abby helpfully took some fabric and stitched together a jumpsuit that disguised most of Echo’s uniqueness. Gloves worked fairly well for her hands. A pair of diver’s goggles strapped around Echo’s face helped greatly, but could not hide her crown of crystal antlers.
Maneuvering quickly away from other boats helped to evade troubling inquiries. So far, the only mishap had occurred when Scotty had forgotten to fill the gas tank before he departed. Forced to use the yacht to rescue Scotty and his posse, Kane had enjoyed his opportunity to gloat as they towed a red-faced Scotty back to the dock.
Trying to explain Echo’s unusual appearance took some imagination. Claiming that Abby and Scotty’s father, a world-renowned geneticist, had gifted them with Echo, who they no longer needed as a test subject, appeared to work. They claimed Echo resulted from a genetic engineering project regarding gene splicing. Rather than terminate her at the end of the failed project, they made her a family pet. It sounded plausible enough and worked for now. But they still tried to keep Echo’s exposure to an extreme minimum, even from the Cobbys. It was one thing to fool a couple of yacht jocks, but anyone with an Internet connection and an inquiring mind could poke holes in their story. Anyone like Peter.
Chapter 26
Abby lay back on her green wicker lounge chair, enjoying the kiss of the sun seeping into her thirsty skin underneath the tiny gold fibers that encapsulated her arms and chest. She found it easier to accept her changes as she watched Scotty and Jose taking them in stride. If she felt uneasy, she hid it well. It had taken her several months to dismiss the meaning of the pronouncement Echo had made to Jose in the limo on the journey to Florida. Her practical side thought Jose may have misunderstood.
Alien Species Intervention: Books 1-3: An Alien Apocalyptic Saga (Species Intervention #6609) Page 35