The dates of the bank robbery and the qualifying NASCAR race matched up perfectly. I was sure the robbery had been perpetrated to get the money for the two racecar engines. Deciding I needed to use the gizmo after all, I got out my security equipment and performed a sweep of my office. When it proved to be clean, I used the gizmo to learn where the Cotton brothers had purchased the car engines.
Once I had that information, I searched the internet for the small company that had sold them the engines. They had a website, and they even mentioned on it that the Cotton brothers had been successful at the Kentucky Speedway after purchasing two of their engines. Knowing what little I did about NASCAR racing, I was surprised the Cotton brothers had been able to get two high-performance engines for the amount taken from the bank. Perhaps they had some other cash available, or perhaps someone owed them a favor.
"Well, not my affair," I said aloud as I began writing up the report.
An hour later I was finished. I had done my best to show the evidence trail I had followed and carefully documented the places where speculation and deductive reasoning replaced clear evidence. I then logged into the FBI via the secure system and filed the report.
I might be called downtown to waste another hour sitting outside Brigman's office, but I figured I should have plenty of time to devote to Delcona for a while. Even if Brigman immediately assigned me two more cases, I could delay starting work on those without worrying they were going to terminate my employment.
I was still wearing just a bathrobe, so I decided to shave, shower, and dress before I completed the security sweep and started work on my vendetta project.
~ ~
An hour later, I was back at my desk and ready to start work, but I was interrupted by the doorbell. My senses were instantly on full alert. No one should be able to get to the eleventh floor unless I authorized the security guard to send them up. Unless— it was someone from one of the three neighboring co-ops. I decided to play it safe and retrieved my service weapon from the bedroom.
As I activated the wall-mounted security monitor just outside the entrance to the kitchen that allowed me to view the entire eleventh floor hallway, the sight that filled the screen made my heart skip a beat and caused my throat to constrict, preventing me from breathing for a few seconds. I immediately felt dizzy and had the sensation I might be dreaming, but there on my monitor was Mia Kosarros, the most beautiful woman to ever share my bed, and probably the most beautiful woman I'd ever known. And she was here, standing just outside my door! Wearing a silky white blouse over a grey pencil skirt, she was, as always, a vision of loveliness.
She carried a coat over her right arm and held a designer handbag in her left. I had once told her I loved high heels on women, and since then I'd never seen her wear heels that added less than five inches to her substantial height. Standing five eleven in her stocking feet, her skyscraper heels had always let her win out over my six-foot-two height and added to the Greek goddess impression that left most men, including me, panting.
I could see the entire hallway, so I knew she was alone, unless there were others standing just inside the front doors of my 'neighbors' co-ops, ready to charge the door of my co-op when I opened it. Well, that was why I had built the vestibule, after all. I also checked the camera feeds from the elevator and saw it was empty.
It wasn't fear of an attack by Delcona's men that made me hesitate to open the door. It was because I had thought the chapter of my life that included Mia had been permanently closed. But I hadn't properly said goodbye when I left Amsterdam, so I guessed I owed her something. I took several deep breaths and tried to compose myself.
As I pushed the button that would unlock and open the door, I watched the hallway near my 'neighbors' doors. No one charged out any of those co-ops as the front door of my unit opened, and then it was too late because my front door was closed and locked.
I took a deep breath and opened the vestibule door, prepared for whatever came— I thought.
I was wrong.
As soon as the door opened, Mia dropped her purse and coat and leaped at me. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and before I was able to even open my mouth in surprise, she had planted at least three kisses on my cheeks.
"My darling," she uttered as she took a brief break, "I'm so happy you're okay. When I learned about those awful men attacking you as you arrived home, I took the next plane to America."
"That was many weeks ago," I managed to utter.
"You are a hard man to find. I've been looking for you ever since then. After you disappeared from Amsterdam so quickly, I told my uncle's investigators to find you. It was they who reported the attack on you. But then they couldn't find any trace of you. None of your former neighbors knew how to locate you, and the FBI wouldn't tell them where you'd gone. They finally located you when the deed to this apartment was recorded in your name and the information was available on the internet. Why did you leave Amsterdam without saying good-bye, my dearest?"
"I sent a note and flowers."
"Yes, but a note and flowers are hardly the same thing as a goodbye in person. And why did you even have to leave? I thought we would have some time together once you solved your case."
I took a deep breath. I was going to have to tell her, as much as I didn't want to. She would never let the issue drop if I didn't. "I left to give you privacy with that other man."
"Other man?"
"The one with the tiny moustache and the scar on his cheek."
Mia's mouth opened, but she didn't say anything right away. And she didn't relax her hold on my neck. Finally, she asked, in a slightly husky voice, "How do you know about him?" Then she got indignant, released me, and took a step backwards. "Were you spying on me?"
It was the kind of response I expected. Many people, when caught with their hand in the cookie jar, would instinctively go on the offensive.
I didn't answer right away. I couldn't tell her about the gizmo, so I decided to be ambiguous. "I'm a policeman, remember? I see things, hear things, and deduce things. Less than two days after telling me I was your one, true love, your Prince Charming, you went to bed with another man. How was I to feel? I decided the best thing to do was leave forever."
"Did one of my bodyguards tell you Marcus was there overnight? Is that how you learned?"
"Is that his name? Marcus? It doesn't matter. All that matters is that it happened."
"Do you know who he is?"
"You said his name is Marcus. What more do I need to know?"
"That he was my husband."
That shut me up, although my jaw dropped open slightly. All I could do was stare at her. Since meeting her, I had believed she was unmarried. The reason was simple— she had told me she was unmarried. This was reinforced by the fact that she wore no wedding ring.
"Don't look at me like that, darling. Haven't you ever made a mistake?"
When I found my voice again, I said, "I've made my share of mistakes, but I've never before slept with a married woman. And I've never had one tell me I was the love of her life."
"I'm not married."
"What? I don't understand. You just said Marcus is your husband. Are you trying to say you don't love him anymore?"
"It's complicated."
"Then perhaps it's best if you don't explain. I left quickly so we wouldn't have this awkward moment. I hoped to only have happy memories of our brief time together."
"I don't love Marcus. I'm not sure I ever did."
"Yet you married him?"
Mia looked downward, sighed, then said remorsefully, "I was young; a silly girl and very lonely. Fearing for my safety, my uncle had kept me almost totally isolated on Thasos after my parents died. I met Marcus while shopping in Athens and he seemed so exciting. He told me wonderful stories about all the places I had always wanted to visit but not been allowed to. So I disobeyed my uncle, snuck away from my bodyguards, and began dating for the first time in my life.
"Marcus took me to parties and intro
duced me to people. We traveled together and enjoyed all the pleasures life has to offer. He seemed so smart, so strong, so worldly, and one day he told me he loved me. I thought I was in love too. I never suspected that he only wanted my money. Fortunately, my uncle wouldn't let me marry him without an ironclad prenuptial agreement. Marcus agreed, believing he could get my fortune some other way once we were wed."
"Why didn't you divorce him?"
"I did."
"But you said a couple of minutes ago that he was your husband. Did you remarry?"
"No, we're still divorced. I said he was my husband. He showed up at the hotel the day after you left to conclude your business. The bodyguard on my door called to say Marcus was in the corridor, on the floor, crying like a young schoolboy who had been hurt. I said to let him in. When Marcus got to where I was standing, he fell to his knees in front of me. He told me he was deep in debt and begged me to give him some money or some very bad people were going to kill him. I felt so sorry for him. Even though I don't love him anymore, he managed to seduce me and we wound up in bed."
"Even though you don't love him?"
"I don't love him," she said angrily, then softened her voice and said, "but I don't hate him either. Is that so hard to understand? I once thought he was so worldly, but I've learned he is like a little boy. And like Peter Pan, I don't think he'll ever grow up. I gave him the money he asked for, but I told him that was the end of it. I told him to never ask again, because all I would do next time was cover his funeral and burial expenses."
"When did you divorce?"
"Two years ago, next month. We met at a lawyer's office in Athens. I gave the lawyer a check for a million Euros to cover all the expenses of the divorce, with the remainder going to Marcus as a sort of settlement. Then we signed the papers and it was over. Since both parties were agreeing to it without contest, all the lawyer had to do was file the documents."
"Why don't you simply tell your security people to turn Marcus away and not contact you?"
"I have. But when the one on my door called to tell me Marcus was lying on the carpet, weeping, my heart overrode my good sense."
"And you're never going to see him again?"
"Never. I promise." Mia moved in close to me and put her arms around my neck again. I didn't try to stop her. I knew I didn't want to stop her. "I only want to see you every morning when I wake up for the rest of my life."
"And if I have to go away on business?"
"I will count the seconds until you return, but I will not share our bed with anyone else."
At that moment I felt a bit foolish. I was swallowing everything she said. I realized it was because I wanted to swallow it. I really had fallen in love with her the first day we met, and I'd been crushed when I saw her in bed with Marcus. But I wanted to believe now with all my heart that she was being truthful. She must have seen it in my eyes because she smiled and began kissing my face. I resisted as long as I could, then pushed her away slightly so I could align my lips with hers before leaning towards her for a kiss that lasted at least an hour. Okay, it didn't last an hour— but it lasted at least a full minute.
When we parted, I asked, "How did you get up here? Security isn't supposed to let anyone through unless the tenant authorizes it."
"I told the security man that I was your fiancée and that I had just arrived from Europe. I told him it was a surprise. He didn't want to let me through, but I begged him not to ruin the surprise. He finally said he would let me go up in the elevator, but he couldn't let me into the apartment. He also made me take off my coat, then checked it and my purse for weapons. He waved one of those airport wands all around me and finally let me go but made my security people stay in the lobby. I told them to return to their hotel if I didn't come back down within a half-hour. Your security man said he'd be watching me in the elevator and in the hallway when I got to the eleventh floor. Colton, the security here is very tight."
"That was one of the main reasons I chose this co-op. Uh, where are you staying?"
"Here— with you. But it looks like you're moving out. Where have you sent your furniture, my darling?"
"I just had a lot of remodeling done, so I haven't furnished the new apartment yet. All I have is some kitchen stuff and a bed."
"A bed and a little food is all we need," she said with a giggle. "Show me your home, darling."
I gave Mia a quick tour of the co-op— quick because there was nothing to see except empty rooms. I saved the master bedroom for last.
"I wasn't expecting company, so the bed isn't made," I said as we entered the room.
"Oh, Colton, it is all so wonderful. I love the view of the park, and there is so much potential for the apartment. I will help you furnish it and make it into a real home. But first, let me see how comfortable the bed is."
She took my hand and gently pulled me towards the bed. I didn't resist. We sat on the edge for a few seconds, then she giggled and lay back. As I looked down at her, memories of our lovemaking in Amsterdam came flooding back into my conscious mind. My existence had been pretty hollow of late, having lost my best friend. And I'd been so consumed with thoughts of vengeance against the people who killed Billy and Morris, I hadn't even accepted what I believed was an invitation for a sexual encounter with the lovely Samantha Hutton. I had only wanted to get the bank robbery case wrapped up so I could concentrate on Delcona.
I lay down next to Mia, expecting to talk, but she turned towards me and was suddenly on top of me. We didn't do much talking during the hour that followed.
~ ~ ~
When I awoke, Mia was sleeping peacefully next to me. I managed to sidle out from under her arm without waking her so I could walk to the bathroom and take a hot shower. Mia always managed to arouse passions in me like no other woman ever had. I wasn't claiming to be a great lover, but a modestly handsome, six-foot-two college football player normally had quite a few opportunities to sample the pleasures found in the bedrooms of co-eds, and I'd never squandered my opportunities.
Since college, my love life had been a bit dismal. Working in IT meant that most of my work hours were scheduled for times when everyone else was out partying and enjoying life. Then, after the big corporate meltdown at my place of employment, I didn't have money to enjoy life. Lately, I'd had the money but not the opportunity. And now that the opportunity was presenting itself, I had a conflict between the mission I'd established for myself and enjoyment of the life I'd been working towards.
I stayed in the hot spray until my fingertips began to wrinkle, then dried off and headed to the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee. When it was ready, I took two cups plus sugar and creamer to the bedroom. Mia was still in the position she'd been in when I'd gone to take a shower. I lifted her arm and moved it to her side, then put one of the cups near her nose to see if it would have any effect. When her eyes fluttered, I knew the aroma was working.
"That smells heavenly," she mumbled.
"You'll have to sit up if you want any."
"I don't know if I can. You wore me out."
"This was the first time I've had sex since Amsterdam. I had a lot of pent-up energy."
"It's my first time also— except for the times with things that run on batteries."
"I don't run on batteries, but I'm recharging as we speak."
She looked up at me and smiled. "Then I'd better have some coffee if I want to be ready."
~ ~
"Hungry?" I asked about six hours later.
"Starving."
"Let's get dressed and go out. I know a great little restaurant a few blocks from here. It's nothing like the club you took me to in Amsterdam, but the food is always good."
"I know of a few places here that serve only five-star meals."
"In New York City?"
"Is it so unexpected that you can get such food in New York?"
"No, not that. It's just unexpected that you know of them."
"I've traveled extensively in the United States, darling. I
can take you to the best restaurants in New York, Chicago, Washington, D.C., Miami, New Orleans, and L.A."
"Okay. Let's go."
"I can't go like this. No shoes, no service is standard. But what do they say about totally naked women?"
"If they're smart, and the naked women look like you, they just sit back and admire the view."
"I think I would feel a little self conscious."
"Okay, I'll give you time to dress."
"I can't wear what I wore coming here."
"Why not? You looked lovely."
"I have to call my security team and have them bring some clothes over from my hotel."
"Okay. But I thought you were hungry."
"I am. But it won't take long." Looking over at the window and seeing that it was still hours from sundown, she said, "It's still early. We have plenty of time."
~ ~
About an hour later, the security guard at the desk in the lobby called. "Sir, there's a delivery here for you."
"It's expected. Send it to the eleventh floor, please."
"Yes, sir."
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. When I checked the monitor, I saw six men in the hallway. All were burdened down with suitcases.
"Mia, were you expecting six security people with suitcases?" I hollered towards the master bath.
"Yes, darling. Have them put the cases in the bedroom."
I shrugged and opened the front door, then opened the inside vestibule door so they could just walk through.
As the men entered, they scrutinized my appearance as only security people do. I recognized one of them from Amsterdam. He had been outside the corridor door of Mia's suite in the NH Barbizon Palace the day I left to wrap up the art theft case.
I pointed towards the master suite and they carried the cases into the bedroom. When they reemerged, one asked, "Does Miss Kosarros require anything else?"
Vengeance Is Personal (A Colton James Novel, Book 2) Page 8