A clerk walked past at a clip that brought even more silence to those already not speaking to each other in the waiting area. Another show as her slim body breezed through wrapped in a burgundy suit with tight knee-length skirt, thin eyes behind thick black-rimmed glasses and auburn hair in a bun giving off a serious librarian vibe, above all else. Her existence was short, however, pushing through a heavy red door and vanishing with the snap of it shutting closed behind her.
“I suspect that one consults air attendants for fashion advice,” Savannah whispered. “She offers about as much appeal as a brass toilet. Sure it’s shiny, but it’s still a toilet.”
“This is such a miserable place anyway,” Gerald agreed. “How did you find me?”
Savannah smirked. “I have my ways, and we’ll discuss this as soon as we get you out of here. What time is your appointment?”
“We’re already late. Supposed to open the court for us at one, but we may not even be first on the docket.”
“This place would be much more pleasant if they piped in Rush tunes,” Savannah said.
“Any music would help, but I do like your thinking.”
“Big money goes around the world,” Savannah whispered.
Gerald’s eyes widened. “That was you?”
Savannah turned to him.
“Big Money was playing in the cab and you loved it.”
She nodded.
“You were so bruised and broken. Then you vanished.”
“Again, we will talk more when we leave here.”
Muffled screaming filtered in from down the hall causing all those sharing the quiet waiting room to look towards it. One of the conferences, it seemed, had gone too far for one man who was now screaming at the “slut” he was up against. The so-called slut began screaming back with the only understandable words being her repeating over and over, “…and another thing!”
“Sounds like those two are a good match.” Savannah chuckled and glanced around. “We really don’t have time for this.”
“Time for what?”
Oscar, now tired of the book, slid it back into his pretend briefcase with a thud. Standing, he left it on the seat as though he expected someone to watch it for him. He left the waiting area for some unknown destination down the hall.
“Let me take care of this so we can get out of here,” Savannah stood up and released Gerald’s hand.
“Where are you…?”
She walked away without looking back. Her heels sunk into the carpet with a slight mushing sound for each step. Rounding the corner, she watched Oscar push into the men’s washroom. Stopping at the door, she looked around to make certain she was unobserved before pushing inside.
Oscar stood at the sink putting water on his face. His face showed shock at seeing the tall brunette walk into through the mirror. “If you’re his lawyer, stay the fuck away from me.”
“Sir, I’m here to negotiate, nothing more.”
The smile formed quickly. “About fucking time.”
“I mean, we really have no defense against this.” She walked to the counter beside him and leaned on it. Even with him standing upright, she was a head taller. “How much do we need to make this go away?”
Nostrils flared and eyes widened. “Half a million.”
“Okay, say I could do that. What would you do with it?”
“I don’t know, um…”
“Oscar, may I call you Oscar?” Her hand brushed up against his groin and felt the immediate response. “Imagine the trip you could take.”
The smile grew wider.
“Oh, wait.” She reached inside her clutch purse looking for something. Handing Oscar what appeared to be a small black cell she asked, “Could you hold this?”
He took it and glanced at it, waiting for her to continue.
Lipstick was pulled out. Turning around, she freshened up her lips. “Now, where was I? Have you ever joined the Mile High Club, Oscar?”
He shook his head. If the smile grew further, his head might explode.
“I’d love to do it at forty-thousand feet. Wouldn’t you?”
“Hell yes.”
“Getting fucked there would be awesome. I mean if you had that money where would you go?”
“We could fuck over the Pacific,” he answered.
“Yes, we could. That would be very cool, over the deep blue…”
The cell in Oscar’s hand buzzed and a red light at the top pulsed.
“Oh, just hit that button to ignore the message if you don’t mind.”
Oscar hit the red button and flashed away.
“Dip shit,” she whispered and checked herself in the mirror again.
II
Forty thousand feet above Honolulu…06h12 HST
Oscar saw blue and white clouds. “She fucking drugged me,” he said to no one and yet could not hear his own voice. With the feeling of gravity tugging, realization followed that somehow this was not drug related and he was no longer in the bathroom.
The black cell fell away from his hands as his bladder emptied into his grey pinstripe pants. Never having jumped from anything higher than the back of a pick-up truck, Oscar screamed as his body began to spin.
He was no longer breathing long before his body belly-flopped into the parking lot at Pacific Oahu Tours.
III
At sea level
The office was quiet save for the tapping of her fingers upon the keys. She stopped typing and considered her situation.
It was just after lunch and she had the entire afternoon to herself. Typical, really, as her eyes glanced past the screen and out the window to where the sun did its daily assault on the asphalt parking lot.
A few palm trees waved in the light breeze beyond the cars.
The month of January being post-holiday was usually quiet for boat excursions. Even so, Wendy made a habit of getting to work two hours early so she would have time to write.
“Okay, Wendy, straight on 'til morning,” she said to get her fingers moving again. Her fingers flew anew across the keys stroking out terms such as “glistening biceps” and “cupping her breasts”. Odd terms for her to be using when one looked at her. Her conservative clothing included an ankle-length purple and white flowered dress. Her hair was bottle-red and cut in a pageboy style that would be easy to deal with each morning as the young ones did not exactly leaver her much time to herself.
The office lights flickered.
Just to be safe, she saved her document before continuing on.
The pot lighting in the false ceiling had been installed using the cheapest options, making this a common occurrence. The computers were all hardwired beneath the building, so never flickered with the lights. It would usually take a much bigger power issue for them to go.
Fingers hammered on with new phrases, such as “hands caressing” and “scream of pleasure”. Again, just in case, she saved. Her own caressing hands then froze over the keys as her intuition, or Spidey-sense as she often called it, tingled. “Wendy-girl, it’s 6:15 in the fucking morning, what could possibly…?” A shiver went through her. Standing, she walked out from behind her desk and straight to the glass door. The door pushed open and she continued to the edge of the sidewalk looking out at the parking lot.
Outside, the day was already roasting even with the light breeze.
The car, a silver and blue Ford Escape Hybrid pulled into the parking lot and into its customary spot. Jacob Young, Wendy’s boss, stepped out and saw her. “Wendy, everything okay?” Pulling his briefcase out, he closed the SUV door and walked towards her.
Glancing upward, Wendy saw the falling body before it belly-flopped on the roof of the Escape. She still jumped.
Jacob, only hearing the impact, jumped and tripped over the curb to land seated on the grass.
Oscar hit the SUV with enough power to pop all four tires and dent the roof. Not that he really cared, however, as his last breath had been some few thousand feet prior to the impact.
IV
> Chicago
Savannah returned to the waiting area with a smile. “We can go. Your Mr. Oscar has been summoned elsewhere.”
A court bailiff walked into the area. “Oscar Graves? Gerald Moss?”
“What do you mean elsewhere?” Gerald asked before standing and waving at the bailiff.
“Mr. Graves?”
Savannah walked over to the bailiff and whispered something in his ear. She pointed at the briefcase sitting on the seat alone.
An hour later, Savannah sat sipping her steaming coffee.
“What the hell did you tell the bailiff?”
“Not much, but I’m sure the bomb squad will have plenty to say after searching Oscar’s case.”
“Bomb squad?”
Looking around the coffee shop, Savannah shushed him. “Not so loud. We had to get out. There are things…” Her face turned dark. “We need to leave.”
“We? Leave for where?” He stood at the service counter stirring milk into his own coffee.
Walking out, Savannah allowed her voice to go louder once on the street. “I’m not exactly from around these parts.”
“Well, being I found you in Winnipeg and this is Chicago…”
She flashed away.
“Fuck!” Gerald dropped his drink and hot coffee splashed on his shoes. He walked forward, not even sure what street he was on, nor what the next cross street was.
At an alleyway, Savannah walked back out beside him again. “Do you really think you humans have that technology?”
Gerald kept walking in the fear that if he stopped he would fall over from the shock of this. “Humans?”
“By not from around here, I mean Earth.”
“You have a device that does that?”
“Mine is implanted. I did have one for when I had others to move with me.”
Gerald’s eyes widened. “Oscar?”
“I’m a bit concerned for Oscar as he was fantasizing about the Mile High Club when he hit the button. If his imagination was even remotely good, he’s likely at the bottom of the Pacific by now.”
“That’s horrible.” The horrified look on Gerald’s face softened until he began to laugh.
Savannah joined his laugh.
A strong ability to suspend belief was something Gerald had always prided himself in. It was strong enough that he could sit through any science fiction or fantasy film or book, regardless of the quality. It also was a strong assist to his writing. With what he had just witnessed, he allowed that strength to take over. Part of him expected to wake and find this all a dream. Another part hoped it never ended.
V
Indianapolis, Indiana
Robert Palmer’s voice began to fill the air.
Nigel, a big fan, began to bop along with the tunes. He flexed at the knees and waist while tapping his bare foot on the wooden floor to keep the rhythm.
“Okay, you’re going to have to stop that,” Sheila said.
“Sorry?”
From her knees, she looked up. “I can’t suck cock while you’re dancing, it just doesn’t work that way.”
The laugh began as a chortled cough in Nigel’s throat. Soon, however, dancing was irrelevant as tears flowed from his eyes as he attempted to control the laughter. His erection waved about randomly in front of Sheila’s face.
Helpless to grab his cock, even, Sheila began laughing, too. Her breasts bounced and before long she was lying on her side with tears streaming down her own cheeks onto the carpet below.
Nigel finally began to regain control, but it took some time. He held his naked belly as aftershocks of laughter still shook through him. His eyes found Sheila as he lowered to the carpet and lay beside with his arms slipped around her. “We are a great team, aren’t we?” A light kiss followed.
“I doubt there is better out there.”
The light kiss became harder as tongues were exchanged.
“We can’t do this down here,” she whispered between kisses. Her hand absently stroked at his cock.
“Why not?”
“I’ve rolled off my pillow. Ever heard of rug burn?”
The joke really was not all that funny to either of them but, nonetheless, they both erupted in laughter once again. Each struggled to get up through the guffaws and moved to the bed.
Still laughing, Sheila pushed Nigel to his back. Grabbing the cock, stroking it with the rhythm of her continuing laughs, she mounted him.
Laughs were first replaced by sighs, and soon by quiet moans.
Nigel reached up and caressed her cheek. “Til the end, baby…’til the end.”
She smiled and softly responded, “That is true, baby, but that is the stupidest, cliché comment I think anyone has ever made to me.”
More laughter from both followed to the point where Sheila simply sat on Nigel and howled.
Then they heard hammering on the wall as the neighbors had seemingly had enough.
“Bloody hotel rooms,” Nigel reached up and smacked the wall back. “You would think they’d have better walls.”
“They’re just jealous.”
“You are absolutely right.”
This time, however, the knock came from the door.
“Shit,” Nigel said. “Must be the pizza.”
“I’ll get it.” Sheila dismounted and walked to the door.
Realizing what was happening, Nigel got off the bed and stuck his head around the corner just enough to watch.
“Pizza delivery,” the young man said before his mouth fell open upon seeing the gorgeous naked brunette opening the door. His muscled chest showed well under the uniform t-shirt and his jeans look slightly too tight.
“Come in, please,” Sheila stepped back and invited.
Nigel tried not to laugh again, thinking it might ruin what he expected to happen. He was right, too.
The young man laid the pizza box on the small hotel room table. “That’s twenty-two forty-two, please.”
Sheila winked at Nigel. “Pay the man.” Next she kicked her pillow to the young man’s feet and knelt.
The young man looked extremely uncomfortable, and yet very excited at the same time. His eyes widened as he felt his pants zipper being pulled down. A groan escaped his mouth feeling his cock being freed from the tyranny of his jeans, but no single complaint was offered. His eyes drifted down just in time to see Sheila’s lips meet the tip of his erection with a light kiss before parting to devour him.
“Money’s on the desk beside you, mate. Keep the change.” Nigel laid thirty dollars on the table.
“Wait, I know you,” the young man said in a cracked voice. “You’re Nigel! Nigel in the Morning.”
“Yes, sir, I am.”
“I love your show.” His voice sounded much more relaxed now, although when he would be in bed with them later he would point out how surreal it was to have a discussion while getting head. “What are you doing in Indianapolis?”
“Weren’t you listening this morning? Did a remote here.”
“Oh,” the young man said with a nod and suddenly seemed to remember what Sheila was doing. He was fairly quick to climax which, considering he was working, was a good thing.
As she ushered him out the door, Sheila kissed him lightly. “Come back after your shift is done.”
Closing the door, she figured it very unlikely that would happen.
Two hours later, however, Sheila grinned hearing the light knock on the door.
VI
Fifteen hours later…
Nigel eased the car into the underground parking spot. “There we are, home at last.”
“We were only gone a day.”
“Yeah, but nothing like my own bed.”
A beep came from Sheila’s purse.
She pulled out her mobile and hit the screen. “Oh, a text from Gerald,” Sheila said with a grin.
“How is he?”
Rising from the car and closing the door, she responded, “We’re about to find out. He’s in the lobby.”
�
�You know, I wonder if he ever found out what happened to Savannah that night.”
“Jesus, Nigel, that was more than a year ago.”
“I know, but I wonder if it was an illusion? People just don’t vanish.”
“No fucking idea. Spontaneous combustion, maybe? A real shame, too, as she was a gorgeous soul. What the hell is bringing this up, anyway?”
“No idea,” he shrugged.
A quick elevator trip one flight up and the doors opened. Nigel stepped out and froze.
Sheila, not expecting this sudden stop of motion, walked into his back. “Nigel, what the hell…” Her eyes looked past him and interrupted her scolding.
Gerald and Savannah stood, side-by-side waiting for them.
“We have to talk,” Gerald said.
VII
“I'm not sucking your cock,” Savannah said. Her arms were crossed and she stood with one toe tapping.
Nigel looked up at her. “But...?”
“Seriously, Nigel, she's not going to do it.” Sheila laid some clothes hurriedly in the open suitcase on the bed.
Nigel grunted. “Armageddon doesn't happen every day, you know. Was just hoping to relieve a little stress.” He winked at Savannah.
“I think we need some wine,” Sheila insisted.
“Before lunch?” Gerald checked his watch.
The glare Sheila offered would have killed most men. It softened to a grin. “You’re with me,” she said to Gerald.
Without questioning, he followed her into the kitchen.
Outside in the bright living room, Nigel’s voice continued, “…this was really unexpected. We just thought you were a some circus performer…”
Sheila pulled a white wine bottle from the refrigerator. “I have been keeping this particular bottle for something very special.”
“The proverbial rainy day?” Gerald nodded and found four wine glasses on a shelf.
“Yeah, but this isn’t rain.” A corkscrew was produced from a drawer and used to open the bottle. “For the record, with what we’re hearing today, I wouldn’t care if it was the crack of dawn.”
“It’s not raining yet, anyway.”
Just Prey: Savannah - Book One Page 12