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A Taste of Honey

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by Tom Benson




  A Taste of Honey

  by

  Tom Benson

  A Taste of Honey

  Copyright Tom Benson - December 2014

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away. If you would like to share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If this book was not downloaded or purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon and purchase or download your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ***

  Acknowledgements

  Cover design by Aimee Coveney

  Author Design Studio

  *

  My thanks to:

  Olive - for her support and the coffee.

  Carmen - for her support and advice.

  Steve - for the character name:

  Connie Parkinson

  ***

  Table of Contents

  1 - Unofficial Business

  2 - Death and Discovery

  3 - Hello and Goodbye

  4 - Crossing the Line

  5 - Here and There

  6 - Wheeling and Dealing

  7 - Teamwork and Terror

  8 - Free Delivery

  9 - Catching up

  10 - Preparations

  11 - A Hunting Trip

  12 - Natural Causes

  13 - Good Timing

  14 - Journeys

  15 - Unexpected Meetings

  16 - Parting Company

  17 - Dead or Alive

  18 - An End or a Beginning

  Endnotes

  A word from the author

  About the author

  Also by the author

  ***

  Chapter 1

  Unofficial Business

  .

  Saturday, June 14th, 2003

  New York

  Kimberley Forest raised her heavy eyelids and blinked several times. She turned to her left to gaze at the red digital display of her bedside clock; 6:15am. A glance at her cell phone was enough. It was Harriet, her teenage sister. Accompanying the flashing display was a regular low buzzing sound.

  It didn’t seem like four hours since Kimberley had placed her head on the pillow after concluding a two-day stakeout with colleagues. She’d catnapped just like the rest of the team and had jokingly teased that she should still have been performing her morning workouts.

  As it was, the detectives were pleased to have rounded up one of the city’s gun-running gangs, and there were no injuries on the NYPD team. The raids and arrests were the culminations of a three-month undercover operation.

  Now trying to bring herself fully alert, the pretty 27-year-old continued blinking her burning eyes and then swiped the screen on her cell. She leaned up on her left arm and pushed her long brown hair back from her right ear. As she listened, she prepared to respond to Harriet.

  “Alan, put that thing down,” a gruff male voice said on the other end.

  “I just wanna’ see if she has any cute friends-,” the other man said.

  “You know what you’re like with phones. Put it down,” the gruff voice said.

  Kimberley sat up in bed, threw back the duvet and swung her legs around to sit on the edge of the mattress. Her phone was pressed firmly to her ear, but she didn’t speak. Her eyes opened wide, and her lips parted as she felt a cold chill travel up her spine. A sense of dread washed over her, and she forgot her woes and fatigue. A glance at the display suggested it was Harriet’s cell.

  Judging by the voices fading and getting louder, it sounded like whoever was holding the phone, was waving it around. Kimberley listened intently. She tried to hear if her sister was involved in the conversation. She held back from speaking so that she could listen.

  Alan said: “Aw Ben, you’re jealous because I found it first-,”

  “I’m not jealous you idiot ... and don’t use our fucking names. If you hit the call button, somebody will hear us.”

  “Shit Ben ... what does that symbol mean?”

  “I said, don’t use our fucking names,” Ben muttered. “Give it to … aw shit.”

  “It won’t matter,” Alan said, “cos’ she’s dead man-,”

  The call ended and Kimberley’s brow furrowed as she looked at the screen.

  “No,” she whispered, her eyes fluttered, her breath shortened and then she fainted.

  *

  “Kimberley ... Kimberley, can you hear me?” Maria said, her Italian accent becoming more pronounced as she raised her voice. She had been doing her morning fitness routine alone in her room when she heard the sound of her friend falling to the floor. They would normally have gone out for a run, or completed an indoor session together, but Maria knew her flat-mate had arrived back late.

  Maria was wearing a black leotard and her white indoor sneakers. A bright pink sweatband held her long dark hair in place and beads of perspiration continued to increase on her tanned brow. She was trying to control her breathing, and a cramp started in her thighs. She gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the pain.

  Kimberley opened her eyes and realized that she was sitting on the bedroom rug, her back against her bed. She was still wearing her red silk pajamas. She blinked as she gazed at her flat-mate and tried to rally her thoughts. Had she been dreaming?

  Maria Delano, also a 27-year-old, was a fellow detective with the NYPD. She squatted in front of Kimberley; her eyes screwed up. She was holding her dazed friend gently by the shoulders.

  “Maria,” Kimberley whispered; her eyes moist. “I want you to do something for me.”

  “Name it,” her roommate said, looking into her blue eyes and wincing as her thigh muscles started to contract. Maria released the grip she had on Kimberley’s shoulders and stood up. She stretched the back of both legs but maintained eye contact, squinting down at her friend.

  “Look at my cell,” Kimberley gasped as she turned to look at the offending instrument lying on the rug beside her. “Check ... please check the last caller.”

  Maria had already seen the cell on the rug but had ignored it to lift her friend into a sitting position. She looked from Kimberley to the cell and then back again, before she squatted down and lifted the offending instrument with her right hand. She wiped the perspiration from her eyes with the sweatband on her left wrist as she stood.

  “It was Harriet,” Maria said, squinting, even more confused.

  “No!” Kimberley screamed, and then burst into uncontrollable floods of tears.

  The Italian looked at the cell again, then to its owner and her brow furrowed. She couldn’t figure out how Harriet could have upset her sister. The only person closer to Kimberley was Maria herself. She squinted at her friend and was totally mystified.

  “She’s dead,” Kimberley sobbed, her eyes glistening with tears. Her normally pretty features were broken, her face unrecognizable. “My baby sister is dead Maria.”

  “I don’t understand honey,” Maria said, “how could-,”

  “Two men,” Kimberley said and exploded into tears again. “I heard a conversation.”

  “I still don’t get it,” Maria said. She eased herself down into a kneeling position, perplexed, dark eyes still squinting at her friend.

  Kimberley said: “They were arguing about Harriet’s cell ... and I couldn’t hear her voice.” She stared at Maria. “I heard one of them say, ‘she’s dead man,’ and then the call ended.”

  “Tell me everything, right from the top,” Maria said as she dropped Kimberley’s cell onto the rug and once again held her friend gently, but firmly by the shoulders.

  Kimberley was sobbing as she related everything in short bursts. Tears poured from her eyes. She explained how she awakened to the sound and vibration of her cell, and then she repeated th
e conversation she overheard. As she spoke her body trembled, caused by her inner fears and the realization of what the call meant.

  “Kimberley you’re tired,” Maria said. “You’ve been strung out for days-,”

  “I wasn’t dreaming Maria,” Kimberley said in a whisper. “It was the cell buzzing that woke me.”

  Maria bent down and retrieved the cell. She pressed the keys to return the call, and then listened. She received an automated message. It reported that the caller’s number was unavailable and suggested trying again later.

  “Stay there honey,” Maria said. “I’ll be right back.” She got up and left the small room, returning less than one minute later with her cell. She wiped the perspiration from her eyes and forehead again and then knelt down in front of Kimberley. Using only her right hand, Maria started to dial, but a strong hand flew up from the floor and gripped her wrist.

  “Who are you calling?” Kimberley said quietly and sniffed as she stared into her closest friend’s eyes.

  Maria said: “I’m gonna’ call our guys and get the local boys in Greensburg to go around there-,”

  “No,” Kimberley said and sniffed again as she wiped the back of her free hand across her tear-stained eyes. “I’m going there.” She was staring. “I’m going to check it out.”

  “What the fuck do you mean you’re going to check it out?” Maria said. “Girl, you’re in no state to check anything out.”

  Kimberley let go of Maria’s wrist and placed both palms on the floor for support. She took a deep breath before speaking. “What have I told you about my stepfather?”

  “You mean apart from the fact that he’s an asshole and neither you nor Harriet have ever liked him?”

  “Yes,” Kimberley said, with no trace of humor. “There is one other important fact.”

  “He’s a detective on the local force-,” Maria shook her head, trying to see the point.

  “Yes, he’s a detective,” Kimberley said, “and his partner is a man called Sorrenson; Ben Sorrenson.”

  “You get showered first,” Maria said. “I’ll fix breakfast for us before we leave. We must eat because we need to be in good shape to travel that far.”

  “What are you talking about; before we leave?”

  Maria held her friend’s face in both hands and looked into her glistening eyes. “There is no fucking way you are riding your Harley about 700 miles alone honey; not in your condition. Now get your ass in the shower.”

  *

  Both women sat at the breakfast bar in the apartment, eating in silence and drinking strong black coffee. Kimberley was eating bacon, eggs, and beans, but didn’t smell or taste anything. Her mind was already in another state many miles away. She wanted to be with her sister.

  Maria ate and silently planned the sequence of events they would follow after sustenance. Like her friend and partner, Maria was able to maintain a list of tasks in her memory without the need to write them down. Normally Kimberley planned like a chess master, but these were not normal circumstances, so it was down to Maria.

  Both of the girls dressed in T-shirt, jeans and sneakers. Kimberley had her hair pulled back in a long ponytail, and Maria’s was in a severe bun up tight behind her Yankees baseball cap. Having no desire to be noticed, neither of them had bothered with cosmetics.

  When it was about time to go, Kimberley appeared from her room carrying a small backpack with overnight gear, and her leather jacket in one hand. In her other was a hip holster, complete with her service weapon. She slipped the holster and weapon into her backpack.

  “Wait,” Maria said, turned and headed to her room. She had been thinking during the silent breakfast about how she would handle such a situation.

  When she returned a few minutes later, Maria was carrying a shoulder holster. Seated in a small leather pouch was a Walther PPK 9mm. In her other hand, she was clutching two loaded magazines and a suppressor that was the same length as the automatic.

  She said: “Leave your sidearm here and take this.” She held out both hands. “The serial number is already filed off, and as you know, it may be small but it’s still deadly.”

  Kimberley didn’t waste time considering the options. She looked into her friend’s brown eyes and nodded silently, before accepting the automatic and accessories. She took her weapon back to leave it in her room. On her return, she packed the illegal pistol and its accessories into her pack.

  Maria said: “Give me 20 minutes. While you’re waiting, get our road atlas and figure a direct route, and then meet me at the southwest corner of the block.”

  “Wh-,”

  “Just give me 20 minutes,” the Italian said and left the apartment.

  As instructed, 20 minutes later Kimberley was ready to leave, atlas in hand. She stood by the door and looked around the apartment. The detective had a premonition, a vague idea that whatever happened on the outskirts of Greensburg, she might not be returning. The aroma of the fried breakfast had all but disappeared. She inhaled the fragrance of the lavender air freshener one more time, placed her baseball cap on her head and quietly closed the door behind her.

  *

  It was 8:35am, as the big blue Chrysler cruised west along Route 78. A sign suggested Bethlehem was the next exit. Maria addressed her silent passenger without turning.

  “We’ll make up some time when we cross the state line into Pennsylvania.” She then glanced at Kimberley. “Are you sure you want to do this alone?” She paused. “I’d be happier going in with you.”

  Kimberley nodded but said nothing. She stared straight ahead, just as she had been doing since they passed Newark. A few minutes later, she looked over her shoulder into the back of the big sedan as something came to mind.

  She said: “I thought you still had a Pontiac?”

  “I do,” Maria said.

  “How long have you been driving this?” Kimberley inhaled and recognized that aroma known as ‘new car smell’. The Chrysler was a large, comfortable, well-equipped car.

  “Since I picked it up this morning,” Maria said. “I got it about two blocks from where we live.” She glanced in the rear-view. “Don’t worry, I changed the plates with another car.” The attractive Italian/American smiled and half-turned to her friend. “Just trust me on this.”

  Kimberley almost allowed her grim expression to break into a faint smile. For a serving police detective, Maria Delano was unbelievable.

  *

  The two women had met at the police academy years before, in the early days of their training. They had a big argument which had been settled by their physical training instructor. He gave them both gloves and placed them into the boxing ring together. They had knocked hell out of each other for a little over 15 minutes. It left them both exhausted.

  The unscheduled bout impressed and frightened all the other police recruits attending the course. Kimberley and Maria’s unbreakable friendship started five minutes after the fight. Since that day, they would take a bullet for each other, and nobody else ever bothered either of them.

  The two girls were both second generation NYPD. Kimberley’s father was a New Yorker born and bred and came from a long line of Iroquois; true Native Americans. Her mother was a dentist and had originally come from the picturesque coastal town of Portrush, in Northern Ireland.

  Maria’s parents were both born and raised in New York. Both sets of grandparents were Italian immigrants. While her mother continued the family restaurant business, her father had served and died with the NYPD, becoming a young girl’s role model. Maria was street-smart many years before joining the police.

  Kimberley and Maria had been roommates for over four years and even the guys that dated them knew not to mess around. Neither of the girls wanted anything too serious, so they enjoyed life at work and play. They were both good at their job and were well respected in the precinct.

  *

  After a couple of hours driving at the speed limit, Maria pulled over at a gas station outside Mount Pleasant, southeast of Pittsbu
rgh. “We’ll get some gas before we continue.” There was no response. “I don’t know about you, but I could do with coffee and a bite.”

  “I’ll order coffees and food,” Kimberley said, “and when we set off again, I’ll take the wheel for a while.” Her tone and lovely face were devoid of emotion.

  “There’s a cash dispenser there,” Maria said. “Withdraw the max from your account. On Monday, use a machine and transfer the rest online to our special account.”

  Kimberley squinted at her friend, but rather than argue; she knew Maria would have good reason for the suggestion. She nodded and realized that she had no detailed plan prepared, but her friend was already thinking ahead on her behalf.

  Maria reached out and touched Kimberley’s arm briefly before pulling up at the pumps. They exchanged a silent look, and Kimberley’s lashes fluttered as she tried to force a smile before she left the car. Dimples hardly formed in her cheeks, before disappearing again.

  During the brief re-fueling stop, both girls received admiring glances from guys who were enjoying a break. Maria winked at them and wondered how impressed the same guys would have been if they’d seen them in short skirts, heels, and full war-paint, all ready for a night on the town. She absently wondered if she and Kimberley would ever do such a thing again.

  The diner had air-con and two large overhead fans. A mixture of the aromas of coffee, hamburgers and fries assaulted and pleased the senses as the glass door swung closed on the oppressive heat outside.

  There was little conversation during the stop, and then the pair left, got back into the Chrysler and Kimberley drove as they continued west on Route 70.

  Maria said: “How do you intend to play it when we get there?”

  “I’m grateful for your help Maria; I truly am, but I want you off the scene before we get to the street. I’d prefer you not to have any further part in this.” She glanced at her friend. “If I have to do anything, it will be against all the rules.”

  “I can’t just let you put your life on-,”

  “Promise,” Kimberley said and turned briefly to look at her friend.

 

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