Unforgettable

by P J Gilbers

  I sat on his lap and we fed each other brownies and drank more wine.

  He picked me up and carried me to the den.

  “I have to do dishes.”

  He shook his head and dropped me on the bed. His clothes were off in seconds.

  The fear was starting to set in even though I was fighting it.

  He undressed me quickly, skillfully.

  “Look in my eyes, stay here with me. You’re safe.”

  I wrapped my legs around him.

  He kissed me, hard and wild, his mouth wandering down my neck to my breasts.

  “Let it out, Sam. Let all that heat and desire out. I love you…”

  “Hey, sorry to break this up folks.”

  It was Roger standing at the door grinning.

  “Get out of here!” I yelled, trying, with no success, to find a corner of the sheet to hide under.

  “Sorry. Thought you’d want to know Silverman just pulled up.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Jack pulled his pants on.

  “Roger, turn around, I’ve got to get my clothes on. Goddammit!”

  Jack barked, “Roger, turn around.”

  Roger did a three-sixty, tap danced with jazz hands, and grinned.

  “She started her period,” Roger said. “There goes any romancing for a week, boss. Five days. Maybe four if you’re lucky. At least that’s how my girlfriend is.”

  “Right,” said Fritz, standing in the kitchen doorway laughing at Jack.

  I sat with my back to them.

  “If you need any help, Sam,” Fritz offered, clearing his throat.

  “What’s up?” Silverman asked suddenly standing next to Roger. “Other than Roger.”

  “She started her period,” Roger said. “Little blood on the panties.”

  “Very observant.” Silverman nodded. “Too bad, Jack. At least we know she’s not…”

  “Would you all just stop!” I yelled at them, stood, grabbed my skirt and pulled it on and then my shirt. I stomped into the dining room.

  I had to have a brownie. The world could blow up but I was eating these sonofabitchen brownies.

  They followed me. Silverman reached for a brownie.

  “Touch these and die,” I growled at him.

  He laughed. “I saw the Exorcist three times and, hey, I believe you. Especially after you glued that guy’s weenie to a ruler, honey, I believe you. Everyone in the office appreciated that one. Whole side of you I didn’t expect.”

  I stared at him in disbelief.

  “How?”

  “My job. But, I am here for a reason, and it’s obviously not brownies,” said Silverman. “This arrived at my office, with my name on it, a couple of hours ago. I was so touched that he knew my name. He must be a fan.”

  He pulled an envelope out of a large plastic bag. Inside were long range pictures of Sarah standing by the pool.

  “He wrote us a nice little note, too. He’s a thoughtful psychopath. Kind of let us know his emotions, thoughts at the time, few select ramblings about his friend, Satan. His grammar is excellent, nice style, don’t you think?” He passed it around.

  Pure blood. I have not tasted pure blood. Unborn. Warm, sweet blood. I offer this child to Satan, my lord, my master. Sam, my Lilith, my bride, you will be in my arms soon. I will taste you, reach deep inside you, please my loins. R

  “Sarah Johnson, her children, dog, three cats, a snake, and two lizards are being moved to a safe house as we speak.”

  “How is she,” asked Jack.

  “She was thrilled that the officers woke her up, made her pack when she’s having pains all over the place. Gathered up her brood. Had a lot of nice things to say about you, too, Jack.”

  Dennington walked in from the back door.

  “Detective Dennington,” Silverman greeted her. “So glad you could drop by since you were in the neighborhood. Have a brownie. Sam might share with you.” He didn’t look at her but grinned his impish grin.

  I wasn’t laughing.

  “At sun up my techs are going to start studying the angulations and distillations and constellations of these photos so that we can figure out where he was positioned. Knowing him I don’t think he’ll go back. He’s a smart little psychopath. It might give us some clues, though. Now you all carry on…And, need I say, do not leave this woman alone. Princess, you ever thought about modeling? I mean…gonna have to wake my wife up when I get home,” he chuckled all the way to the front door.

  I slept in Jack’s arms. I loved the feeling of his skin next to mine and the soft rhythm of his breathing. I smiled and slipped my hand down, caressing him.

  He stirred.

  “What are you doing?”

  I buried my face in his chest and worked down, taking him into my mouth, enjoying the intensity. He moaned.

  “God, woman, you are full of surprises.”

  Tuesday

  It had been two days of no filming, just eating and sleeping. And loving.

  The phone rang in the office and woke me. I heard Jack talking and then Fritz.

  “We had a bit of a fight,” Fritz said.

  “About…”

  “Sam. A word of wisdom here, lad. If your girlfriend works for the FBI and she’s watching …’friend’, don’t kiss ‘friend’, don’t put your hand down ‘friend’s’ pants, and, for Christ’s sakes, don’t offer to pay her a million bucks for a night of splendor.”

  “What the hell were you doing with my Sam like that?”

  “I was doing it for you, chum…”

  I almost laughed out loud.

  “She was gettin’ all afraid about you wanting sex so I just demonstrated to her that sex was a wonderful thing.”

  “You horny, lascivious bastard. I’ll take care of Sam’s sexual…what’d you call it…splendor.”

  Fritz laughed.

  Jack walked in, without his crutches, and I quickly got dressed.

  “What’s up?”

  Fritz handed him a dark blue suit.

  “Meeting.”

  “With…”

  “David, some of the money people. He just called and wants us there. Gloria and Roger are going to be with you until we get back.”

  “Okay, just me and Tonto again. At least he laughs at my jokes.”

  Roger and Gloria were fighting about an answer on Jeopardy. I was incredibly bored and went into the kitchen. I found beef stock in the freezer from Sarah and made French onion soup. We ate at about two.

  “I’ll help you with the dishes,” Roger offered.

  “No, please, let me do…” He grabbed me and threw me to the ground, talking into his earpiece.

  “Intruder, backyard by the fountain. Five ten, possible weapon in his hands, jeans, red shirt.”

  Gloria flew out the door with her weapon drawn. I could hear people running and shouting.

  Roger hovered over me.

  “Can I sit up?”

  “Nope. Stay where you are.”

  “Who is it? Doesn’t sound like Welsh.”

  “Nope. Too small. Wrong body build.”

  Gloria came back in breathing hard.

  “It’s a Bryan Litchfield. Paparazzi. Police are carting him off for trespassing. Fool’s lucky he didn’t get shot. I think,” she laughed, “I think he wet his pants when he saw all the weapons on him. Pretty funny.”

  “Can I please get up now?”

  “No. You have to stay there all day.”

  He tickled me but I managed to stand up and pull the sprayer from the sink blasting his face with water.

  He grabbed strawberries from the counter and threw them at me like tiny grenades.

  Gloria opened the refrigerator and came out armed with eggs and ketchup.

  I opened the flour canister and dumped it on his head followed by more water making a lovely paste.

  And the war was on.

  “Excuse me,” Jack was suddenly standing there stunned. “Are we all eight years old again?”

  Fritz walked in and began laughing
hysterically.

  We were all dripping wet with bits of food and condiments hanging from our hair and face.

  “Sir, yes sir,” Gloria and Roger stood at attention.

  “We had an intruder,” Roger said.

  “So you decided to have a food fight to scare him away?”

  “Roger started it,” I said.

  “Yes, sir. Roger, sir,” said Gloria.

  “The policeman outside, who did not have any food dripping from him, said that it was a paparazzi.”

  “That would appear to be the case, sir. Came over the back fence.” Roger, bit his lip to keep from laughing.

  A large blob of watered flour dropped off my head and slid down my cleavage. It was more than the three of us could bear. We broke into debilitating laughter.

  Roger shoved us outside to hose off.

  “I’m not cleaning it up,” Jack was ripping off his uncomfortable suit.

  “Don’t bloody hell look at me,” Fritz was tip toeing through the mess.

  “I think it’s time for a party,” Jack said. “Call David, of course, but tell him he has to behave. And the caterer. I’m feeling like barbeque.”

  “You’re always feeling like barbeque,” Roger yelled.

  I put a clump of flour on his nose on the way out.

  Jack was in jeans, stretched out on the bed, when I came in.

  “You’re dripping. And shivering. I think I’d better help you out of those wet things.”

  I hesitated and then walked to him.

  “You know as soon as we start anything someone will…”

  Fritz walked in. “Sam you’re dripping. Go get some clothes on,” he scolded. “Jack’s tired but I’d be happy to help.”

  “He’s horny again,” Jack laughed.

  I was puzzled.

  “They had a fight,” Jack explained.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. Come here, I’ll give you a hug.” I laughed chasing him through the house.

  “Stay away from me, you wench, you’re all wet, this is a very expensive suit.”

  I toppled him in the living room and lay down on top of him, wringing out my hair on his chest.

  “You’re not fighting. You’re supposed to fight.”

  He had his arms around me, sliding his hands down to my chilly wet cheeks.

  “I forgot,” he whispered, grinning.

  I bit him on the shoulder, wriggled away, and went upstairs to change.

  When I came back Jack was at his desk.

  “I hear we’re having a party.”

  “Indeed we are.”

  “Why?”

  “Two reasons, you’ll find out soon.”

  He held me for a long time and then people started bringing in bags and boxes of food. We wandered out to the pool.

  I had on a new black halter dress with my hair up, something I hadn’t done in a long time.

  People were arriving, people whose faces I actually recognized.

  “It’s the crew!”

  Fritz came in from a game of basketball.

  “Correct, love. You look spectacular.”

  “Here’s our Dorothy,” a bearded cameraman grabbed me and pulled me into the crowd.

  “She killed the Wicked Dick. Ding dong the dick is dead,” he sang and they all followed him around as they sang in a Conga line.

  David walked in, laughing. I made my way to David and Jack.

  “David! It’s so good to see you,” I kissed him on the cheek and gave him a big hug. He held onto me.

  He yelled, “announcement you heathens.”

  They all laughed. “As you all know our previous director, Mr. John Black, has been excused.”

  The crowd cheered.

  “What you don’t know is who is going to replace him. After meeting with the powers that be we have decided to offer the job to none other than our gracious host, Jack Nolan. And…he said yes.”

  Jack bowed.

  The crowd cheered again.

  “I have an announcement,” Jack said, “much more important than our little business deals, I just received this picture from our very own Sarah Johnson.” He showed it to the crowd.

  “May I introduce Rose Johnson Wehrner, eight pounds, six ounces. And yes, she finally has a girl!” He handed copies of the picture out to the crowd.

  I looked at Jack. He was smiling at me.

  “I never saw what women see in newborns,” said David, “their faces look like something from Chuckie. They make bizarre noises. Have no career goals.” He laughed.

  “Fritz and I have talked about babies. Babies and castles. I need another drink.”

  “Fritz. Talking about babies?” David drank the rest of his wine.

  Jack stared into his scotch, swirling the ice cubes.

  “Yup.”

  “Jack, my friend, you’d better not screw this up with this woman. There are so many of us on your heels you just might get trampled.”

  I sipped the last of my margarita and got another. David pulled me onto his lap, kissing my neck.

  “I love your hair up. Now I can attack your neck much easier.”

  Jack threw ice at him.

  “There are three kinds of women in this world, Jack,” he said. He wrapped his non-drinking arm around me.

  “Oh? Tell me about it maestro.”

  “There’s the first kind that’s like a thunderstorm, filled with electricity and excitement, beauty, and danger. It doesn’t last long and there’s a lot of broken stuff to clean up afterward. Hence, my first wife.”

  Jack nodded and saluted him, pouring another scotch.

  “And the second kind?”

  “Rollercoaster. Up’s that make you cum in your pants, and downs filled with twists and turns that rip your heart out.”

  “Second wife,” they mumbled in unison.

  They saluted again.

  “And then there’s women like Sam. Extremely rare. Fragile. Mysterious. And genuine. Most of all, genuine.” He pulled me closer to him and I lay my head on his shoulder. He had wonderful shoulders.

  “That’s very sweet,” my margarita said.

  “And you fall in love with her, with your very soul. And once you’ve been touched by her you’re never the same again, like some rarified fire. That’s our Sam. What she gives is real. ”

  Jack nodded.

  I closed my eyes and kissed what I think was his neck.

  Jack took my hand and uncoiled me from a protesting David.

  “What are we…?”

  “Dance with me,” he nodded to the DJ and walked me to the deck. He held my hand close to his chest and sang softly to me, Unforgettable.

  “Nat King Cole! My dad loved him.’”

  “My mom, too.”

  He dipped me and I laughed.

  “…its incredible that someone so unforgettable thinks that I am unforgettable, too,” he sang, wrapping me in his arms and kissing me.

  “I love you so much,” I whispered.

  “I love you, sweetheart,” he kept me in his arms. “I want you so much. I want you forever.”

  “People are starting to leave, perhaps we should go up to bed.”

  “Those are the sweetest words I’ve heard all day.”

  “But we still can’t…for a couple of days.”

  “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

  Silverman checked the evidence locker one more time. Everything from the supposed suicide case was gone. Not even a scrap of lint.

  He stormed up to the clerk's office.

  "Where is it?"

  "What, Detective?"

  "The Huesling case. You know, the poor guy beat himself and then jumped out a window. Extraordinary case."

  "The what? I never heard of it. Maybe there weren't no evidence to begin with."

  Silverman smiled.

  "I'm sure you're right. I'm sure the Chief had nothing to do with this. And I'm sure your bank account wasn't fatter this week. Have a glorious day, man. Someday soon it may not be so glorious."

/>   Around three I woke. I heard talking in the hall. Which wasn’t unusual after a party. Except I kept hearing my name.

  I crept to the door.

  Someone grabbed me, put a piece of duct tape on my mouth and tied my wrists together. They shoved me toward the top of the stairs.

  Panic made me insane. I thought my chest would explode. I was kicking but doing no good. I dropped to my knees and managed to knock a vase off. It crashed. The intruder panicked and started to run. I fell to the ground. They slipped and fell down the stairs, landing halfway down.

  Jack ran out, called for security.

  I screamed when he ripped the tape off.

  Roger and another guard had the intruder. They pulled his ski mask off.

  It was Gloria.

  She looked at me. “Sorry, Sam.”

  Jack untied me.

  Silverman came with two uniformed officers. They took her away. I just watched, not believing.

  I gave my statement and went back to bed. I slept, dreaming about dark figures hiding under my bed.

  Wednesday

  “That security bitch got caught last night. We’ve been watchin’ that goddamn ranch for five days and I’m sick of it,” Eddie was making fried bologna sandwiches. “I hate fucking fried bologna. I want some real food! We need money! I need to have some goddamn fun! You’re never going to get close to that bitch. They have a freakin army around her. Let’s go get some money.”

  “Shut up,” Robert was cleaning his knives.

  “I hate this apartment,” Eddie continued. “It smells like rotten cabbage. Let’s move.”

  “We will. Every three days. Every three days. Besides, I want a nicer place to bring my queen, the mother of my child.”

  “You really think you’re going to keep her long enough to get her knocked up and keep her nine months. You are an idiot.”

  Robert slammed into him pushing him into the wall and knocking a large hole in the plaster.

  “Don’t you ever call me that!”

  Eddie ran out the door, limping and crying.

  Oscar went outside on the tiny, cracked patio and talked to Arnie again. “Yeah, that’s right… should get you right in…just get me the fuck out of here, man!”

  Silverman called at nine.

  “Seems Gloria was being blackmailed by Welsh. Welsh found out she had a record. She was terrified he was going to let her girlfriend and you and Jack know. And he threatened to kill her and her family. She confessed to putting the tape recorder under your bed. She had no way of contacting him, though. So that’s a dead end. Welsh really knows how to manipulate people.”