Myra did not recall ever seeing Morgan at Blue Hawaii, but that was not unusual. The people who work in Surveillance keep a low profile and try to remain undercover, regardless of whether their time at work is spent in the semi-dark room with the eye-in-the-sky camera monitors or their duties require them to go out on the casino floor and mingle with guests, watching surreptitiously for card or slot cheats and dishonest employees.
The women shook hands and introduced themselves. Myra noticed Morgan’s fragrant perfume was an expensive brand. She liked the scent. It was clean and fresh—but at the same time, highly erotic. She would ask Morgan the name of the fragrance. Perhaps she would buy a bottle for herself. “Come on in, Morgan. I’ve just made a fresh pot of coffee. Would you like to join me for a cup?”
“Thanks. I would.” Morgan looked around admiringly. “This is a beautiful condo, Myra. Do just you and your husband live here?”
Myra avoided giving Morgan a direct answer. “We don’t have any children, if that’s what you mean.” There was no need to tell Morgan about Kimberly.
Myra brought two cups of coffee and a plate of Danish butter cookies to the dining room table. “Please sit down, Morgan. If you want to smoke, go ahead. I do.”
Morgan lit up immediately. “Thanks. I was hesitant to ask. So many people don’t allow smoking in their homes these days.”
Myra sat down across from Morgan and took out a cigarette for herself from the pack lying on the table. Morgan quickly pulled out her lighter, flicked it, and held the flame to the tip of Myra’s cigarette. “Now, what is it you have to tell me that’s so important?” Myra asked.
Morgan looked like she had just swallowed a worm. “I want to warn you about that sonofabitch Rick Lacey. I don’t know what you’ve done or what he thinks you’re doing, but, for some reason, he’s singled you out and he’s tracking every move you make at Blue Hawaii. The surveillance cameras are trained on you whenever you leave your office. Lacey watches you on the monitor that sits on the bookcase across from his desk. Whenever he’s not in his office, we have to record your movements on video tape, and he runs the tapes later.”
Myra blanched. She had absolutely no idea Lacey had been keeping an eye on her, which was a shock, but, as a loyal company employee, Myra was troubled even more that Morgan was revealing the information. The major rule in the Surveillance department was to keep all investigations extremely confidential. “Why are you telling me this, Morgan? You could lose your job if anyone finds out. I don’t know why Rick Lacey is so interested in my activities, but I have absolutely nothing to hide, from him or from anyone else.”
Morgan’s eyes were trying to lock on to Myra’s, but Myra was stirring her coffee and her eyes were focused on the spoon and cup. “I’m worried for you, Myra, even though we’ve never met until now. Rick Lacey is extremely devious and dangerous. I’m deathly afraid of him, and you should be, too. Once he has you in his sights, there’s no telling what he might do.”
Myra wondered if Morgan had a case of paranoia. She would listen, but take everything Morgan said with the proverbial grain of salt. “Go on—”
Morgan’s magnetic eyes finally caught Myra’s and wouldn’t let go. They seemed to drain all the strength from Myra’s body. “You know the woman in the keno department who was murdered a week ago? Cicily Purdue? Well, Lacey used to have the cameras follow her around, too. Just like he’s doing to you. And now, Cicily’s dead.”
Myra set up straight in her chair, a shocked expression on her face. “Are you suggesting Lacey had something to do with Cicily’s murder?” she questioned disbelievingly.
Morgan shook her head. “No, I’m not saying that. Not at all. But only because I don’t have any proof. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised, though, if it turns out Lacey killed her. He took such a—shall I say, unnatural interest in Cicily.
“Everyone in Surveillance knew Cicily was picking up men in the bar and going with them to their hotel rooms or doing them in the parking lot or wherever. Lacey did absolutely nothing to stop her. To my knowledge, he never even mentioned Cicily’s slutting to anyone in Human Resources, which would have been the right thing to do. He just kept her under surveillance. I was told Lacey would come in on the graveyard shift and watch the tapes of her over and over.
“The creep makes my skin crawl. When he looks at me, I can see the lust in his eyes. Lust, and something even more sinister.
“Mind you, Lacey’s never said or done anything to me that I could regard as being off-color or offensive, but I can sense that someday soon he’s going to make his move. He’s almost too nice, too complimentary, and always too proper. He’s like a young tomcat toying with a mouse or a coiled rattlesnake ready to strike. I never want to find myself in a situation where I’m alone with him, that’s for sure. I’m convinced Rick Lacey is a sexual predator.”
Myra took a sip of her coffee. It wasn’t quite sweet enough, so she added another spoonful of sugar. “Why don’t you just quit? Nobody needs to live in constant fear of her boss.”
“I can’t quit. I need the money, and the job pays well. I live at home with my mother. She has a heart condition and can’t work, so she’s totally dependent on me.”
“Then sit Lacey down and ask him point-blank what’s on his mind.”
Morgan lit another cigarette. “I don’t want to know what’s on his mind. There’s something strange about him, something perverse and wicked. The man is evil, Myra. Pure evil. As I said, Rick Lacey scares the hell out of me. His current obsession about you should frighten you, too, Myra. I have no idea why Lacey’s keeping such close tabs on you, but, take my word for it, he’s up to no good.”
Myra wondered if Morgan was right. If so, there was certainly cause for concern, if not actual panic. But maybe Morgan had an agenda of her own. Perhaps she saw perils that existed only in her mind. Maybe Lacey was simply infatuated with Morgan. “Face it, Morgan. You’re a beautiful woman. You dress sexily. Men must hit on you every day.”
Morgan nodded. “Sure they do, and I turn them all down. I neither need nor want any man in my life. I’m lesbian.”
Myra didn’t respond to Morgan’s remark. In fact, Myra was mulling it over in her mind. She found Morgan’s candid, confident declaration refreshing, even invigorating. Myra was still struggling with her own sexual identity, not yet understanding why she lusted so ferociously for another woman.
When the air became still, Morgan continued. “I hope I didn’t shock you, Myra, by telling you that. Please don’t disregard my warning about Rick Lacey because I’m gay. I’m not trying to cause trouble for him because I don’t care to date him. The danger is real. You have to believe me.”
Before Myra realized what she was saying, she blurted out, “I do believe you, Morgan. I certainly wouldn’t doubt your credibility because of your sexual orientation. Only recently, I realized I’m bisexual.” Why on earth did I tell her that?
One of Morgan’s carefully plucked eyebrows arched. “Oh? I thought you were happily married—or is that an oxymoron? Does your husband know?”
Myra nodded. “Yes. Michael knows.”
“And he accepts you the way you are?” Morgan asked incredulously.
Myra lit another cigarette. “Yes. In fact, our relationship is better now than it ever was, since he—since both of us—discovered I’m bisexual.” There. I’ve said it again.
Myra had never applied that label to herself before, even in her own mind. She decided it was a simple fact, and, while not overtly obvious, should carry no more stigma than being a brunette or having brown eyes or liking strawberry ice cream. Why am I talking so candidly about my personal life with this woman I’ve never met before? Myra wondered. Still, it feels good to be able to speak openly and not have to hide my feelings. If anyone would understand my needs, it would be Morgan.
“You’re very lucky, Myra. Most men become monsters when they find out their wife or girlfriend wants someone else, and even more so if the someone else is a woman.”
>
“Michael’s unique. Very special.”
“He must be. I’d like to meet him sometime, Myra. Don’t worry, girlfriend. I’ll never be a threat to your marriage,” she promised, laughing. “As nice as Michael may be, he’s not my type. No man is.”
Myra laughed at that. “I believe you. I’m not worried about you and Michael, though it’s a good thing you’re lesbian. I trust my husband, but you’re so gorgeous you might sweep him off his feet.”
Morgan moistened her lips with her tongue suggestively. “Michael already has one gorgeous woman. Why would he want another?”
Myra could feel herself blush. The coloration was brought on by a combination of the sincere compliment from Morgan, which she found erotically disturbing, and the secret knowledge her husband not only wanted but already had another woman—Kimberly. “As a matter of fact, Michael will be home in about an hour. Would you care to join us for dinner? There’ll be more than enough food for all of us. I’m cooking a huge corned beef brisket.”
Morgan glanced at her watch. “That sounds yummy. I’d love to stay, but my mom has an appointment with her doctor and I promised I’d drive her to his office. I’ll have to meet Michael another time. Can I have a rain check?” She reached across the table and took Myra’s hand in hers. Myra did not pull her hand back. Rather, she extended her other one to Morgan’s free hand and clasped it. Both women could feel the chemistry building between them.
Morgan lowered her voice seductively. “I really like you, Myra. Perhaps just the two of us could go out together sometime,” she suggested, rolling her tongue over her lips lasciviously. “Since you say your husband doesn’t mind.”
Myra wasn’t sure she understood. “Are you … are you suggesting we go out on a date?”
Morgan flashed her teeth in a big smile. “Yes. Of course. We can have dinner, then take in a movie or go dancing. Afterwards, if we click—” She left the rest of the afterwards sentence up to Myra’s imagination.
Myra was having a little trouble catching her breath. “Morgan, I’m flattered. I’m very flattered. I do find myself attracted to you,” Myra admitted, surprising herself. “Very, very attracted. But I’m completely committed. To Michael, and to another woman. Her name’s Kimberly. She’s bisexual also. We all live here together. We’re a family. A very special family.” I’ve done it now, Myra thought. I’ve openly admitted our relationship to someone besides Rabbi Hellmann. But I trust Morgan. And it really feels good to be able to confide in someone.
Morgan was obviously disappointed. “Lucky Kimberly. Lucky Michael. Far be it from me to criticize your lifestyle, Myra. If it works for you, that’s what counts. But my offer still stands. Call me any time. Whenever you need to talk. I’m a good listener. I’d like for us to be friends, if that’s all you feel we can be. You’ve really piqued my interest. I want to meet both Michael and Kimberly. They sound like two very open-minded people.” She stood and pushed her chair beneath the table.
Myra nodded. “They are. I’d like them to meet you, too, Morgan. Let’s plan on all four of us getting together for dinner one evening real soon.” She rose and prepared to walk Morgan to the door.
“I’d like that,” Morgan told her, easing an arm around Myra’s slim waist. Myra felt compelled to reciprocate. She experienced a frisson as her arm encircled Morgan.
“I’d really like that,” Morgan repeated, slowly and sensually. The words were clear enough, and could be construed as relating directly to Myra’s invitation, but it seemed to Myra that Morgan was referring to something else altogether. Something deep and dark and definitely erotic. Certainly not a dinner party with Myra’s husband and girlfriend present.
Myra and Morgan hugged on parting. Morgan’s lips brushed against Myra’s cheek ever so lightly, like an afterthought. And then, Morgan was out the door and down the stairs and gone.
As Myra finished preparing dinner, she could not get thoughts of Morgan out of her head. In her mind’s eye, Myra kept seeing Morgan’s flashing smile, her sensual body, her smooth-as-satin chocolate skin. Myra was oblivious to the overpowering odor of corned beef cooking; Morgan’s lingering scent seemed to fill the room. Mostly, though, it was Morgan’s touch that Myra kept recalling. When they held hands, when Morgan slipped her arm around Myra’s waist, each time they made the slightest physical contact, it was as if a powerful electrical charge flowed through Myra’s body. Shocking, but very, very pleasant.
Myra greatly enjoyed sex with Kimberly. But Myra had been the aggressor in the beginning and still initiated most of their lovemaking. There were times when Myra sensed Kimberly was accommodating her only to have free access to Michael.
On the other hand, Morgan expressed her desire for Myra in no uncertain words. And something buried deep in Myra’s psyche hungered to be the object of another woman’s carnal lust. Morgan’s tentative but definite overtures for a romantic relationship had sparked in Myra a licentious appetite. The mere knowledge Morgan was eager to bed her was making Myra want to surrender to Morgan, to submit her body on the altar of their mutual pleasure. Morgan’s approach had been as restrained, perhaps as calculated, as a chess move. Would Myra be able to resist a more aggressive stance? Would she really want to?
Myra wondered what would have happened if Morgan’s perfunctory parting kiss had been planted on her lips instead of her cheek. She wished it had been. The next time it will be, she resolved.
The next time? What in hell am I thinking of? Myra’s head was spinning, her thoughts vacillating wildly. She sat down at the kitchen table and lit a cigarette. This is absolutely crazy, she ruminated. What is wrong with me? What can I do? Absolutely nothing. I’m infatuated with Morgan, that’s all. I don’t want to cheat on Michael and Kimberly. I don’t want to break up my family. Yet, I certainly can’t spend the rest of my life wondering and regretting what might have been with Morgan. I can’t get her out of my mind. For my own sanity, I have to see Morgan again. To prove to myself we can be just friends, nothing more.
Nineteen
“WOW! SOMETHING smells absolutely heavenly! I wonder what Myra’s cooking,” Kimberly remarked, as she entered the condo.
Michael was trailing a few steps behind. He recognized the wonderful aroma wafting throughout the grounds of the condominium complex as soon as he parked the car and opened the door. “Corned beef with a yellow mustard and brown sugar glaze. It’s one of Myra’s specialties, and, believe me, it tastes every bit as delicious as it smells.”
“Okay, you two,” Myra called out from the kitchen, when she heard Michael and Kimberly talking and knew they were home. “Dinner’s almost ready. Michael, the salad greens are cut and in the fridge. Cherry tomatoes and sliced mushrooms, too. Would you make a dressing, please?”
Michael went into the kitchen and greeted Myra with a kiss. “Sure, glad to,” he agreed. “How about a Continental blue cheese dressing? Would that go with the rest of the dinner?”
“Perfect,” Myra told him.
The Kaplans never bought bottled salad dressing. Michael could not bear to pay exorbitant prices for assorted chemicals, gums, preservatives, and cholesterol-laden tropical oils. He knew he could easily make far superior salad dressings fresh for a fraction of the cost, and it took only a few seconds more than if he’d poured the goop out of a bottle.
Michael sprinkled the lettuce—a combination of iceberg and romaine—with seasoned salt, seasoned pepper, and a tablespoon of sugar, to heighten the flavor. Then, he doused the greens lightly with white wine vinegar, poured on a generous portion of virgin olive oil, and crumbled a couple of ounces of blue cheese on top. He added the cherry tomatoes and sliced mushrooms, tossed the salad for half a minute, and was done.
“The salad’s ready,” he announced.
“Fine. And so’s the rest of our dinner. Let’s sit down and get started,” Myra requested. “I’ve picked up the video you wanted to see. The Bum’s Rush. We can get in bed and watch it right after dinner.
“Is it a comedy?” Kimber
ly asked. “It sounds like one.”
Michael smiled. “Not exactly. The Bum’s Rush is a highly erotic, romantic murder mystery. But I’m told it does have some hilarious dialogue. I think we’ll enjoy it.”
Kimberly helped herself to a serving of salad, then passed the stainless steel bowl and salad tongs to Myra. “How did your day go, Myra?”
Myra filled Michael’s salad plate, then served herself. “It was an interesting day, to say the least. I had lunch with Nellie Sherman. She had quite a story to tell.”
Michael looked up from his salad expectantly. “Oh? What did Nellie have to say?”
“Well—Nellie can’t prove it, exactly, but she’s positive she stumbled on Rick Lacey and Lois Lewis having sex. In Lois’s office. She says that’s why Lois fired her. Or, more accurately, why Lois did away with Nellie’s position at Blue Hawaii.” Myra proceeded to relate in minute detail everything she and Nellie had discussed.
When she finished, Michael grinned. “Do you really think Lois Lewis might be carrying Rick Lacey’s baby?” he asked.
“I don’t know. The timing is certainly right. That is, if, in fact, it was Lacey and Lewis Nellie heard having sex that night. Of course, there’s no proof.”
“People have been thrown in prison on slimmer circumstantial evidence,” Michael commented.
A Time For Us (Michael Kaplan Mysteries) Page 13