Murder Across The Ocean

by Charlene Wexler

  “As you know, I’m leaving tonight, so I have to pull out of my suite in a few hours.” He stopped and smiled warmly at Cate. “Meet me there. It’s the Wingate, just a short ride from here.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Cate answered as he reached up and touched her face and gave her a slow kiss. She returned his kiss in kind, and she fought the urge to throw him into the back of her car and ravage him right then and there.

  As he walked down to where his car was parked, he heard a shrill female voice declare, “Cate Brill, this is a bloody surprise! Did I really see you kissing that American detective, the one that you despise?”

  He would have loved to hear Cate’s response. Grinning with satisfaction, Jordan entered his car and drove on.

  He lingered outside the hotel and watched as Cate arrived, dressed in her sexy little black skirt that barely skimmed her thighs and her fitted white blouse she had buttoned haphazardly, leaving most of it unbuttoned.

  Cate walked slightly behind Jordan through the hotel lobby to the elevator and eyed his wide, sculpted shoulders, slim hips, and muscular legs. She smiled to herself as she thought; This guy’s ass was made to be in those jeans. Inside the elevator, they spoke of her grandmother, how things were going well with the move, and how they liked the gym.

  She inhaled the musky scent of his aftershave as they exited the elevator arm in arm and entered his room. She had dodged her friend’s remark with a well placed, “I simply changed my mind!” because she no longer despised Jordan. In fact, she was crazy about him now. Joseph, as sweet and loving as he could be, did not stir her passions the way Jordan did. Every time she saw him, all she wanted to do was screw his brains out. It made everyday chores quite difficult. She looked at his face now and anticipated the fun to come.

  Upon entering his room, Cate turned towards Jordan and, with a mischievous smile, she said, “I’ve been thinking about it. You shouldn’t have won that tennis match. That ball was out of—”

  He didn’t give her time to finish. He put a thick finger to her lips, and with a light kiss, he silenced her. “Let’s not talk about that.” Moving her towards the bed, he embraced her tightly, kissing her neck, nuzzling her collarbone, making her squeal with delight.

  On the bed, Jordan looked deeply into her eyes while slowly undressing her. He unbuttoned her fitted shirt first so he could fondle her perfectly shaped round breasts and kiss her smooth belly. Their first encounter a few days ago had been fast and hungry. Now, they took their time exploring each other, slowly removing articles of clothing, taking time to taste, touch, smell, and see one another completely. Jordan’s oral talents surpassed anything she had experienced, and she moaned with delight as his tongue worked its magic.

  She spread her legs wide to allow him further access, and he lovingly cupped her rear end with his strong hands, tilting her pelvis forward so his tongue could enter her more deeply.

  Cate was further aroused by Jordan’s own moans of desire as he pleasured her.

  With Joseph, Cate had used sex to have power over him. Joseph quite liked to be in the submissive position, allowing Cate to take over, to make demands, to orchestrate the act. With Jordan, she only had control over her responses, as she had barely any control over what Jordan would do next, which she found exciting. He wasn’t taking control from her; it felt more like she was letting him celebrate every inch of her. It was evident in his actions that Jordan was there to please his woman, and it was apparent he got off on that, as well. The more pleasure Cate derived from Jordan, the more desirable he became.

  Nothing is quite as sexy as a man who wants nothing more than to please his partner.

  When Cate felt close to orgasm, she pulled Jordan up by his shoulders and he climbed on top of her. She kissed him passionately, slipping her tongue deep into his mouth; shocked at her own taste, and she grasped his erect penis and guided it inside her. Jordan’s eyes closed, and his mouth grew slack as he moaned and bit at Cate’s lower lip.

  “Jesus, Cate, I don’t know how long I can…”

  Cate hungrily bit at Jordan’s neck as he anchored his hips into hers, thrusting himself deep inside her.

  Soon they were moving in tandem, groaning and laughing out their pleasure and losing themselves completely in one another.

  True to his word, Jordan came first, growling out his release, his face buried in her neck, holding her so tightly she thought he would break her ribs. Cate followed soon after, the room resounding with her shuddering cries of successive orgasms.

  Afterwards, completely spent, they fell into a deep sleep, entangled in each other’s arms and legs. When Cate awoke, she was alone in the room. There was a suitcase and travel bag by the door. Cate dressed hastily and scanned the small kitchen for a quick coffee or a piece of bread, but alas, there was nothing. She was famished, and the place had been cleared out of all food. She wasn’t sure of Jordan’s flight time. Maybe they could go for an early dinner.

  The door opened and Jordan literally ran in.

  “Where were you?” Cate asked.

  “On a last run along the Thames.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” she laughed. “Who could run after that? Who would want to?”

  “Well…”

  He had left Cate for a run because he needed to think, and running had become his outlet. Jordan had used expressions of love to many women before, just to get them into bed. He couldn’t do that to Cate, because he believed he was really falling in love with her, and it was scaring him to no end.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

  Jordan moved toward the bed. “Tell you? Tell you what?” Had she read his mind?

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were going? Maybe I would have liked to come, too. Or at least, maybe I would have been able to talk you out of going.” She playfully stuck out her leg from under the bed sheet and touched his groin gently with her foot.

  “Cate, I hate to do this,” Jordan said as he gently lifted her pretty foot to his lips and kissed her toes, “but… there’s no time to talk. I must throw you out and get to the airport. My plane leaves in less than three hours.” He kissed her quickly on the forehead, then turned and made his way to the bathroom.

  “I don’t think so, Jordan.”

  Twenty minutes later, they both came out of the bath, showered and squeaky-clean.

  He came out fully dressed; Cate emerged in a white oversized towel.

  “Now, there’s a proper sendoff, Mr. Gould,” Cate said, raising an eyebrow as she watched him straighten out his shirt.

  “I appreciate your efforts, my love, and now I’m completely spent.”

  “Sleep on the plane.”

  “I’d rather sleep on you.” Jordan smiled at his girlfriend and pulled her towards him. He delivered a sensuous kiss, savoring her sweet taste and her warm, scented skin, knowing, with a sharp twinge of longing that they may not be together again for weeks.

  Soon, Cate was dressed, and they were off, racing down the stairs to their cars.

  As he got into his rented car, he leaned out the window and shouted, “I beat you fair and square. You weren’t fast enough to get the ball!”

  Cate stood by her car door with her mouth open, about to respond, but Jordan was gone.

  Chapter 27

  On June 12, 2013, six weeks after arriving in England, Lori was finally going home. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was much thinner, by at least ten pounds, not by choice, and she walked with a limp, and she knew there were a few extra lines on her face, but she was alive. Her silver grey hair was lying on her neck like the old days when she was young, though then it had been coal black. She would check Cate’s reaction before cutting it short again.

  Their taxi arrived. Cate checked the house, left a note to thank Joseph for letting her stay, and put a reluctant Tigger in her cat carrier.

  Cate and Lori hurried along to their American Airlines flight to the States. As they were walking through Heathrow airport, a brittle noise jolte
d Lori, and she quickly turned around.

  A tall Englishman stared at her before he commented, “Terribly sorry, I dropped my keys. Aren’t you…?”

  Cate grabbed Lori’s arm and literally pulled her along, out of the man’s path, until Lori made her stop long enough to rest her leg.

  Cate said, “I keep telling you to take a wheelchair, but you are stubborn.”

  Lori shook her head and smiled. “It must run in the family. Besides, we can stretch our legs in first class, Miss Big Shot!”

  They made it to their flight just a few minutes before the doors closed.

  Once they were seated on the plane, Cate whispered, “I must tell you a secret. Jordan contacted me from the States. He told me Holmes followed a lead Jordan had found before going home, and Holmes believes it has led them to Wheeler’s real killer. No arrests have been made, so Jordan couldn’t tell me any more for now.”

  Lori’s body stiffened as she realized she had actually put the murder out of her mind the last day or two while preparing to go home. She had doubted that Roland was Josh’s murderer, but she also knew he was capable of anything.

  “Wine?” the flight attendant asked, and they both quickly answered, “Yes.”

  They talked for most of the flight, with Lori doing most of the talking, revealing more details about her kidnapping. Lori took care to keep the secret of Joseph Lunt’s birth for now.

  Cate opened the U.S. newspaper. The front page was filled with shock waves over the bombing at the Boston Marathon. Shaking her head and throwing up her hands, Cate turned to her grandmother. “Gram, I can’t understand this world. Why do so many bad things happen to good people?”

  “I don’t know, Cate. The older I get, the harder it is to understand. I once read a quote by a Shari Barr that summed up my thinking: ‘Expecting life to treat you well because you are a good person is like expecting an angry bull not to charge because you are a vegetarian.’”

  “That one is great. I’ll have to remember it.” Cate gave her grandmother a kiss, put down her tray for the flight attendant to serve her meal, a turkey sandwich with fruit and chips, while Lori tried the roast chicken and pasta.

  People will forget about Josh, now that there is a new crisis, Lori thought. She felt guilt and relief when this thought entered her mind. She had been worried about-facing friends and everyone else back in the states. She anticipated questions and questions.

  After dinner, Cate and Lori put back their seats and napped while the plane flew over the Atlantic Ocean. Lori woke up first. She opened the shade on the window and watched the bright orange sunrise over the white, billowy clouds. She was in Europe for only four weeks, but it felt like another lifetime.

  She looked over to her darling granddaughter and thought about what it would be like to be young and innocent again. She realized she didn’t want to be young again, but she did want to laugh again. Then she thought about Geoffrey and how they had laughed together over their inability to remember the names in the Sherlock Holmes stories, and when he asked if he could give her a kiss goodbye and they bumped noses. She hadn’t been able to let another man into her life after being hurt by her alcoholic husband.

  Cate stretched out her arms and legs and slowly sat up. “Morning already.” She looked under her seat to check on Tigger, who promptly scratched at her cage and started to meow. The sedative the vet had given her had finally worn off. The meow was answered by a soft bark coming from somewhere in the back of the plane.

  The stewardess approached their aisle. “We will be landing in less than an hour. We have a cheese omelet or cereal for breakfast.”

  A few minutes later, Lori put her spoon down. The cereal was cold. She took a gulp of coffee, and turned towards Cate. "Tell me about your new job in D.C."

  “I accepted this job with Judge Norman Pierce because D.C. is where the action is. I am determined to work for the government, possibly as a trial lawyer. Jordan and I are very similar. We both know what we want, and we are willing to fight for it. Oh, there will be problems, as we both have to be in charge, but life will never be boring.”

  Lori asked, “Are you planning to move in with him?”

  “No, not right away. We need some time to get to know each other. When we get to D.C., I am going to look for an apartment, check out the job, and then go home to Chicago to see everyone.”

  “Cate, a wise man once said, ‘Learn from the past, prepare for the future, but live in the present.’ I try hard to remember that saying and live it.”

  As soon as the plane landed, Cate pulled out her iPad and checked her e-mail. Lori glanced at it.

  "I'm sending you an iPad. It's time for you to get hep." Cate said.

  Lori patted Cate affectionately. "Not yet, honey. I've been hep enough this last month."

  Cate grinned as she helped Lori off the plane and through immigration in D.C. Cate stopped in the bookstore and came out laughing, a caged restless Tigger in hand.

  “Hey, Gram, I just asked the clerk where the loo was, and she looked at me like I was crazy! I’ve been in London too long. I have to learn American English again.”

  “Honey, while you’re relearning the language, I’m going to pee in my pants.”

  “Good thing you’re wearing a dress!”

  They both laughed their way to the nearest restroom. When they exited, Cate kissed Lori goodbye, and they embraced for a long time before parting. Tigger meowed when Lori tried to pet her through the carrier.

  Lori made her way down to collect her luggage. Cate was now at her destination, while Lori had another five-hour flight to Phoenix, Arizona. Lori watched her granddaughter’s brisk walk down the corridor. Cate’s thick, honey blonde, chin-length hair looked much better than the conservative bob she wore when Lori first arrived in London. So did Cate’s multi-colored embroidered shirt over her slim-legged jeans and tan knee-length boots. Cate had a Bohemian look. Lori guessed that style of dress had made a comeback.

  Lori remembered the 1980s, when she dressed like that. Oh, those were the days when she was trying to keep up with the North Shore crowd in Chicago’s suburbs and at the same time keep the family secret. Her rich, cool husband—who had provided her with two wonderful children, a beautiful home, clothes, jewelry, and trips—was really an abusive, blazing alcoholic lunatic who was bankrupting them.

  Lori said to herself, Remember, and learn from the past.

  She walked to her gate for her flight to Phoenix. Lori stopped at a magazine stand to pick up an American paper. The sales clerk stared mutely at her as they completed their transaction and Lori collected the paper.

  On the second page, there was a large article with the headline: Wheeler’s Body Released. Son Plans a Private Memorial in L.A. Investors Still Hope to Retrieve Their Money.

  Rest in peace, Josh, Lori thought, putting the paper down. She couldn’t manage to read it. She wondered if she would ever find peace while alive, or would she always be haunted by her connection to Josh’s murder and by the picture of Josh’s mutilated face? She wondered if she would ever be able to remember and find someone to talk to about the Josh she had loved all those years, not the scoundrel everyone remembered. Maybe one day she would look up his son and tell him about the father who went out of his way to bring a dying girl an autographed photo of Bruce Springsteen. The last time she saw Josh before this trip was when he made her daughter so happy with that photograph.

  Lori ducked into a restroom to wash the tears off of her face, and then she went over to Starbucks, ordered a latte, and sat down at one of the tables. She sat quietly, sipping her coffee, staring into space. She had some time before her plane connection left for Phoenix. The woman sitting across from her looked vaguely familiar. Coal-black shoulder length hair covered what must have been a recent facelift, as she was still swollen and puffy. She was probably in her middle fifties and was expensively dressed, in a conservative way. She kept checking her watch and looking around.

  Shortly, another woman approached the table.
This one was blonde and chic; Prada, Channel, and Gucci dripped from her every limb. These two looked like they were straight out of the old Dynasty series. Blondie dropped the newspaper on the table and pointed to the picture on the front page.

  “You know,” the blonde woman said quietly, “I actually miss the bastard. They still don’t know who killed him.”

  Lori instantly knew they were talking about Josh. She didn’t run away, but she did turn her head to keep from being recognized. She slowly sipped her drink while concentrating on their conversation.

  Facelift tried to laugh, but it didn’t really materialize; she just made a strange clucking noise at the back of her throat. “You must be kidding. He walked off with a million dollars. Of your money!”

  “He was so much fun and such a good lay, it was worth it. Stop being so innocent,” Blondie playfully admonished. “Wasn’t it your husband Max who brought him into our group? The Golden Boy from Illinois, the one with those gorgeous blue eyes, the one related to a federal judge, the real estate tycoon. What a line!” The woman laughed wryly, more to herself than with her friend.

  “Oh, you’re right, Muriel. We all believed the bullshit he handed out, and we were foolish enough to invest our money with him. Yes, he was fun to have around, always coming up with something exotic to do. Remember when he flew us to Paris for lunch on his private plane?”

  The blonde woman known as Muriel laughed, while holding her coffee cup in the air. “Here’s to the Mile High Club!”

  “Ah, yes, plenty of good times on that plane. His private plane financed with our money. Oh, he was good. Too bad the pyramid tumbled on him. You think he had that bed cleaned, or do ya think he just had it burned and bought another one?” Face lift asked.

  “Do you have those pictures? I wonder what they are worth.”

  “You think we’re the only ones with pictures of that playboy’s naked ass?” Facelift managed to crack a smile without tearing her skin while continuing to cluck.

  “Who do you think killed him?”