by Ava Frost
“I know. But I have to look.”
“I know, dear. Don’t get fired.”
“I won’t, mom.”
Becky’s father, Dwight Stimson, disappeared three months earlier after visiting Butters and Butters, Attorneys at Law.
Chapter 3
Becky went through the usual procedures for new employees; filling out forms, studying the company manual, sitting through a video on sexual harassment and locating the rest rooms. She’d been hired as an investigator in the liability department. Besides a degree in Criminal Justice, she had a doctorate in computer technology.
She sat at her appointed desk and fired up her work station. It showed the traditional peaceful scene that all business computers have. She reached in her handbag for her lipstick and held it in her hand. A few expert brushes with the lipstick and her makeup was perfect. As she put the tube back in her bag and tightened her fingers around a square, thin metal object stuck to the bottom of the tube.
Becky slipped the thumb drive into the USB port in the front of the computer under her desk. The program on the drive would let her investigate every file on the computer without alerting security.
A shadow passed over her desk. It was a large, properly shaped male shadow. She looked up at the kind of man who visits a woman's dreams. He was over six feet, slender and masculine. His clothes fit his perfect body as if they couldn't fit anyone else. He had black hair and dark brown eyes. He said, "Miss Stimson, I'm Jack Butters. This is my building and my law firm. I'm happy to see that you're my new employee. I'd like to welcome you to Butters and Butters, Attorneys at Law. Would you join me in my office?" He waited for Becky to stand up and move around her desk. He pointed down a long corridor. "My office is at the end of that hallway." He stepped back to let her walk ahead of him.
As Becky walked in front of him, she thought, “The Universe came through. Mr. Butters looks as perfect as he can be.”
As she walked, Becky passed a hundred people sitting at their desks. All of them stopped work and looked at her, most with pity, some with anger.
She walked slowly, cautiously. She didn't want to stumble or trip. It occurred to her that her slow gait gave her hips a chance to sway. She hadn't planned it. It hadn’t happened before. She saw him in a polished glass door. He wasn’t looking at her.
Inside his office, he sat at his desk. "Do you like the theatre, Miss Stimson?"
"Yes I do, very much."
"Will you accompany me tonight? Romeo and Juliet' is playing in Vancouver."
"That would be wonderful."
"An employee's first day at work is seldom productive. You've filled out our paperwork. Please go home and prepare. I've sent something for you to wear."
Becky was surprised, more than surprised, shocked. She had to establish some sort of independence. She said, "You're very smooth."
For a few seconds, Jack looked perplexed. He recovered and said, "Am I successful?"
Becky waited a bit before she said, "Yes. I'll go with you. But nothing else." She paused to make her next words mean something. "Not on the first date, certainly."
Jack Butters smiled at her and bent his head over some papers on his desk. A middle-aged woman appeared at her elbow and showed her out of the office.
Twenty minutes later, Becky found a man in an excellent suit waiting at her door. He said, "Miss Stimson?"
Becky said, "Yes".
He handed her a box from the most exclusive women's apparel shop in Vancouver. He smiled and walked out.
The dress was exquisite and the right size and color.
A limo picked her up at eight that evening and drove her to the airport. A private jet took her to Vancouver and another limo carried her to a very expensive restaurant. Jack sat at the best table in the room. He ordered for her and got it right.
She noticed a scar on the back of his left hand. She pointed at it. “Where did you get that?”
Jack lost thirty years. He grinned. She had seen his smile before and liked it. His grin made her think of him as a boy. He said, “My brother threw a rock at me when I was twelve. I had to go to the hospital to get stitched up.” He laughed a little. “He got a week in his room and no TV.”
Becky’s heart fluttered. The small boy in Jack was more pronounced away from the office. She liked this casual Jack Butters. It made him seem very human and approachable. She asked, “Where were you born?”
“Red Deer in Alberta. Actually a small suburb of Red Deer. Red Deer’s tiny so you can imagine how small my town was. Our post office, general store and sheriff’s office were all in the same building and run by the same man.”
The evening was perfect. Becky didn’t have another word to describe it. Jack was perfect. The food was perfect. Her gown was perfect. They flew back from Vancouver in comfort. Jack knew how to talk to a woman. He treated her with respect.
The chauffer dropped Jack at his office and took her home. She smiled all the way into her building.
Chapter 4
She walked into the corridor that led to her apartment and noticed a very large man near her door. He stood with his legs apart and his arms folded.
Maybe it was the elegant way Mr. Butters treated her and the boost it gave her self-confidence. Maybe she was lonely or needed to be touched. Whatever it was, she wanted to appreciate men instead of avoid them.
He wasn’t Jack Butters. Jack was smooth and in control. The man in front of her looked rough and capable of violence. His appearance aroused her more than she expected. He was bigger than a box car. She liked that. He had a strong face that stirred her emotions.
He said, "Miss Stimson. I'm Inspector John Knowles of the Anatowok Island Constabulary. Could I talk to you for a moment?"
His voice made her chest vibrate. It was low and solid. She said, "Yes, come in please."
In her apartment, her arousal died a quick death. He was acceptable in low light, but the brighter lights of her living room showed him to be a bit slovenly and badly dressed. He needed a shave and a haircut. He wasn’t the man she deserved.
"You started work today at Butters and Butters,” he said.
He stood directly in front of her with his feet slightly spread and his arms folded just as he had outside her door. It felt confrontational. She didn't like it. She said, "Yes, I did."
Her heart didn’t care that she disliked him. It noticed the ropes of muscle around his shoulders and chest and the nose that stuck out from his face like the front of an ice breaker. She shivered unwillingly.
"We're investigating Butters and Butters. They may have ties to organized crime. You went to the theatre tonight with Jack Butters. Did he talk about anything I might be interested in?"
She took all of the friendliness out of her voice. "No."
"Would you call us if he does?"
"I don't want to do that, Inspector Knowles. I just started working there and I'd like to continue doing it."
He unfolded his arms. "Doesn't it seem unnatural that you show up on your first day on the job and he buys you a dress and takes you to an expensive opera? Do you think he does that for all his employees?"
"I know what I look like, Inspector. No, I'm not surprised to find that kind of behavior in a new boss. He was just quicker than most."
Her conscience hit her like a baseball bat. She didn’t have the smallest idea how bosses treated women who looked stunning. Jack Butters was the first one.
The pleasant, neutral policeman took over. "I have eyes, ma'am. I can see what you look like.” Becky was aware that he said the words without any attempt at friendship. He was stating a fact.
He continued, “Let me ask you a question. Did Jack Butters make any moves on you? Did he try to get into your apartment after the date, put his hands where they didn't belong, pin you up against a wall?"
Becky had to end this. She didn't want the police involved. "Can you tell me why that's any of your business?"
"Jack Butters is a very cold man. He never does anything unless it wil
l get him more money or power or keep him from losing money or power. We've been doing surveillance on him for six months. He's never approached a woman romantically in all that time."
"That hasn't been my experience with him. I can’t believe he’s involved with criminals."
"The question remains. Why you and why now?"
"I don't know. This is getting embarrassing, Inspector I won't spy for you or do anything else."
"Sorry to have bothered you, ma'am." He walked out.
Becky said to herself, “Jack isn’t a criminal. He’s a nice, friendly man who treats me well.”
She sat down in front of her computer and made her way into the network in the office.
She found what she wanted. Her father had been at Butters and Butters, but not with Jack. He’d met with the vice president for a half hour and left. She was right. Jack was what he appeared; a good decent man. She needed more information on the vice president. She found two things. First, the vice president was named Sylvia Hoskins; and second, Sylvia and Jack shared the same address.
Becky sniffed. “I can’t be surprised that he already has a woman. He’s so good looking.”
Chapter 5
The next day, Jack found her in the storeroom all alone. He closed the door and snuck up behind her. She smelled his perfect aftershave before she saw him. She pictured him before she saw him. In her mind, he looked very well-tailored and manicured and shaved.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. She made noises of approval and held him against her neck with one hand.
After some nice kissing, Jack twirled her around and pinned her against the filing cabinet. He kissed her again. She felt his hands on her waist. They moved slowly upward.
She thought, “Keep going. This will the first time a man has touched my breasts.”
Jack slipped his hands under her blouse then under her bra. He caressed and lifted and rubbed just the way Becky wanted. She made noises of approval and kissed him with more energy.
Her mind began to wander. The heat and sensation from his smooth, gentle hands washed up to her emotions and down to her hips.
She knew she had to stop him. She thought, “I have to keep his respect. But it feels so good.”
Mentally, she sighed and said to herself, reluctantly, “Time to stop. Or at least get some commitment out of it.” Out loud, she said, “But Jack, someone might come in.”
She listened for him to push a little; not too much but enough to show he wanted more. She expected him to say that he’d locked the door or that he owned the company and he didn’t care.
Instead, he backed away. “You’re absolutely right. We should have more privacy.”
He walked toward the door. As his hand touched the doorknob, he turned around. He said, “Was that alright? Was it appropriate?”
Becky nodded. He left.
She rearranged her clothes and wandered back to her desk.
At lunchtime, Becky stood at a mirror in the Ladies Room next to a slender, busty girl who smiled a lot. Becky introduced herself and said, “What can you tell me about Jack Butters?”
The girl frowned. “Which one? Jack seems to have a different set of personalities for every situation and none of them talk with each other.” She finished and left. Becky looked in her own eyes. She said to herself, “I’ve only seen one.”
Chapter 6
That night, Becky learned a little more about Sylvia, her rival for Jack’s affections. Sylvia was a lawyer as well as an accomplished businesswoman. She’d competed in horseback riding in the Olympics and brought home a silver medal.
Becky leaned back in the chair. “She’s beautiful and worthwhile, but I’m not going to be discouraged.” She shut her computer down. As she headed for the bedroom to change into her nightgown, she said to herself, “I need to know if she’s worthy of Jack. There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not prying. I’m just taking care of him. I’ll see what she’s up to tomorrow morning before they go to work.
The next morning before sunrise, Becky made her way through a thick forest in a ravine in the mountains.
She poked her binoculars between two bushes.
Jack Butters lived in a mansion made of huge timbers with the bark still on them. It stretched three stories up into the clean British Columbian air. He'd put it on one side of the broad ravine with a view of the Straits out his front room window. His wealth and political connections made it possible for him to ignore local zoning ordinances and clear a large portion of the forest.
Jack and Sylvia occupied the same bed. Becky sniffed at that. “She’s thin. He deserves a woman with curves.” She watched Sylvia go to breakfast and Jack leave the house. “I shouldn’t be surprised that he already has a woman. I’m different. I might have an edge.”
She watched him go to his stables and lead a dragon out of its stall and away from the main building. She lost sight of him when he and the dragon walked around an outcropping from the mountain.
Jack could have been leading a bull. He held one end of a rawhide cord twelve feet long. The other end attached to a ring going through the nose of the dragon.
He carried a small electronic device in his hand.
His property ended in a small box canyon with sheer walls seventy feet high. Butters positioned the dragon in the middle of the canyon and stepped back. He pressed a button on his device and the dragon blew a column of flame against the canyon wall. The flame carried a blue color through most of its length, turning yellow only at the end.
Jack patted the animal and spoke softly to it. He unhooked his leather cord from the nose ring and pressed another button on the device. The dragon slowly and clumsily stepped around to face out of the canyon. It awkwardly spread his wings. They spread with creaks and groans from the beast.
Once the wings unfurled, the dragon took three strong steps and launched. Jack let him fly for a few minutes then called him back and led him back to his stall.
Chapter 7
The day after was Saturday. Becky loaded her Jeep Wrangler with food and drove to the mountains. She parked out of sight in a small turn-out and walked through the woods. It was hot and sunny. The moisture in the underbrush made it feel like a sauna. Before she'd gone ten feet, her shirt was clinging to her body.
The day before, when she’d watched Jack, she’d used a spot just off the road. She wanted to be closer, and she wanted to look around the outcropping. She didn’t suspect Jack of illegal activities. She just wanted to see what he was doing. She walked a mile into the forest.
She caught sight of surveillance cameras in the trees. She said to herself, “Not surprising. He’s worth a lot of money.”
It took a few minutes to find a dead spot none of the cameras covered. She crept through small bushes to the edge of the ravine. She brought up her binoculars. "Okay, Jack Butters, we don't officially suspect you of doing anything wrong, but what about those around you. Especially that thin woman, Sylvia. Maybe there's a wolf in your pasture." Nothing stirred in her mind at her use of the word. It should have.
Abruptly, Becky stopped looking through the binoculars, stopped moving; and, for a few seconds, stopped breathing.
The cold barrel of a pistol pressed against the back of her neck. A low, mean voice said, "Don't move." The stern voice said, "You're in an area that's under control of the Anatowok Constabulary. You're not allowed in here. You'll have to talk to my superior."
Ten minutes later, she sat in front of Inspector John Knowles. He wasn’t in a good mood. She sat on a camp chair while he walked around her. They were in a tent on a small piece of cleared land. He said, "What the fuck were you doing up there? Don't tell me you were just walking around or hiking or bird watching."
He planted himself directly in front of her with his arms folded across his chest. She’d come to dread that posture.
He wore jeans and a dark blue tee shirt with the letters 'RCMP' in a small type-face across the front. The shirt may have started the day loose and prop
er, but heat and exertion made it shrink against his sturdy, muscled chest.
His voice made her body shake. His chest and arms were covered with a layer of perspiration. He hadn't shaved or hadn't done it effectively. She focused on his masculine biceps and the way they stretched his shirt. The closed tent made his male odor unavoidable. She had to bring herself back to reality. His next words drove all thoughts of his physical presence out of her mind. He said, "Did you really think you'd see your father out in the open?"
Her eyes leaped open and her chest felt tight. "How did you know about my father?"
"We're policeman. This is a small town. He checked into a hotel and left and never came back. The hotel owner called us. He seemed like a decent man who wouldn't skip out on his hotel bill. We know he didn't leave the island by any of the usual means. He didn't take a ferry or a plane. No one's seen him or knows anything about him. Butters and Butters records say he talked with the head of Information Technology and left. That’s all we’ve been able to find."
Becky's voice was weak and trembling. "You don't know anything at all about my father?"
"No. I'm sorry. Things like this don’t happen on the island. We haven't had a murder in twenty years." Without a change in inflection or cadence, Inspector John Knowles contradicted himself. "We've got good, experienced officers here. They've handled hundreds of murders and disappearances. I know we've done a thorough job, but we've come up with nothing. I'm sorry."
He pulled up a chair and sat down in front of her. "You're from Vancouver. I can ask you politely to go home. I want you to know I will make you go home if I have to. This is very dangerous. Butters, or one of his staff, may be a murderer many times over. You'll just get yourself killed. Do you understand?"
Becky nodded her head. "Yes. If I stay here, you'll just have another crime to investigate."
"Good. Call work and tell them you have to go home to help your Aunt Jane deal with a health crisis, and you don't know when you'll be back. Don't come back. I'll call you when we make some progress."