A Killer's Game

by Amy Andrews

  Detective Wilshire locked arms with her, and escorted her to his car. Like a perfect gentleman, he opened the car door for her, and she settled in to the passenger seat of his sleek Mercedes.

  The interior smelled of fine leather, and of the cologne that Wilshire had on. Not an overwhelming sickening smell, but just a hint of it, that made her want to get closer to him just to smell more.

  Wilshire sat down in the driver’s seat, buckled up, and sat there expectantly looking at her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Are you going to buckle up?”

  “Oh, Jesus!” she exclaimed. “Sorry. Don’t get me wrong, I want to be here, but this whole situation is weird. Out of my comfort zone,” she said, as she grabbed the seatbelt, and strapped herself securely in.

  “Don’t be nervous, Lieutenant, it’s just me,” he said, as he eased out of her driveway.

  “Okay,” she said, “we have to get one thing straight, right off the bat. At the office, on a case, or at a work function, I’m Lieutenant. Here, I’m Sara.”

  Reaching over to pat his hand on her knee, he said, “Okay. You’re the boss, Lieutenant Sara.”

  A wave of anticipation rose through her with the slightest touch of his hand. Without consciously realizing it, her knees parted slightly. Realizing what her body was doing without her consent, she placed her hands on her knees, and inconspicuously clasped them together.

  She smirked and gave him a quick little punch in the arm. “Quit being a smart ass, Brian.”

  Rubbing his arm, he said with a chuckle, “Ouch. Quit being so abusive, Sara.”

  They both shared a mutual smile and laughed.

  “So, where are you taking me?” she inquired.

  “Well, I thought we would start with a nice waterfront dinner at Cloyde’s.”

  Sara knew of Cloyde’s, but had never been there. It was often filled with patrons that had money. Lots of it. Under normal circumstances, it was the kind of place where she would have felt like a square peg trying to fit into a round hole. Tonight, however; she felt and looked like a million bucks, so she supposed it was okay. And, even though she didn’t have that kind of money, she was with someone that did. Brian Wilshire looked the part, and projected the part, because he was the part. That was one of the things that she really admired about him. He was a damn good, hard working Detective, even though he didn’t have to be. He wanted to be. He had inherited a large trust fund from his Grandfather’s estate, who was a real estate tycoon over in West Palm Beach. From what she understood, he was pretty much set for life, and would never have to work another day, if he didn’t want to.

  Arriving at Cloyde’s Sara marveled at how beautiful the view of the ocean was through the restaurant’s far wall, that was made entirely of glass. The atmosphere was extremely romantic with the view of the ocean, the white linen table cloths, and glowing candle lit table centerpieces. Brian marveled at the view as well, but he was not looking at the ocean. His mouth watered, but it wasn’t because of the smell of the five star food.

  The hostess welcomed them, and seated them at the far side of the restaurant. At a table for two, they sat against the glass wall, offering them an unobstructed ocean view.

  Brian took the liberty of ordering a bottle of Cabernet for the both of them, while they viewed the menu.

  Sara didn’t really know what to think. The menu had an array of fancy, but fabulous sounding dishes. It also had no prices next to anything, so it must be pretty expensive she thought. She smiled to herself as she remembered an old saying that went something like: if you need to know the price, you can’t afford it.

  Leaning in, she asked Brian, “what are you going to get?”

  “I’m thinking the surf and turf sounds good,” he said. “I want you get whatever you want, Sara.”

  Sara ended up selecting a butter poached lobster tail dish with potato croquets., secretly hoping in the back of her mind, that it was not the most expensive item on the menu.

  Sara’s taste buds danced in ecstasy, as she and Whitten enjoyed a feast fit for a King and a Queen. They leaned in towards one another as they easily and smoothly conversed, their body language telling everyone that they were together. Upon finishing off the entire bottle of Cabernet, Brian ordered two coffees, and a scrumptious plate of desert berries that came drizzled with white and milk chocolate, which encircled an expertly swirled dollop of crème.

  Finishing their desert, Brian placed a black credit card into the check holder the waitress had deposited on their table. After signing the check and leaving the waitress a generous tip, he escorted his lovely date out of the restaurant. Brian was coherent enough to notice that she was catching the undivided attention of all the males, and jealous glares from all of the females, as their companions’ heads turned.

  Leaving the restaurant, they strolled arm in arm down Fifth Avenue, window shopping, and people watching. Hearing some live music coming from one of the many upscale establishments, they entered and strolled up to the bar. She wasn’t drunk, because all of the food she ate seemed to absorb the affects of the alcohol for the most part. She was feeling buzzed, a little loose and a lot giddy. Not wanting to let her inhibitions completely go, she decided to decline having another drink, and opted to have a glass of ice water instead. While this evening had been the best date by far that she had ever experienced, what she really wanted to do was go home. With him. In her bed. Or his. She grew hot, and her cheeks went rosy, as her face flushed just thinking about it.

  She snapped out of her daydream, and accepted the ice cold water from the bartender. Brian didn’t get anything to drink. He took her by the hand, and twirled her onto the dance floor. They rocked and swayed to the up tempo beat of the jazz band, until last call.

  Brian gave her a kiss on the cheek as they exited the dance floor, and strolled down Fifth back to his car.

  The ride home was not uncomfortable, as they continued talking and laughing.

  Pulling into Sara’s driveway, Wilshire exited the car, and opened Sara’s door for her. He took her hand, and helped her up and out, continuing to hold it until they arrived at her front door.

  Fumbling through her purse for her keys, she pulled them out and said, “Wilshire, I had a fabulous evening. Thank you so much.” Hesitating for a moment, she said, “Would you like to come in for a while?”

  Wilshire drew her in close and tucked her hair behind her ear. His warm breath tickled her ear, and sent a shiver down her spine as he whispered, “there is nothing more that I would rather do, but if I come in, we both know where it’s going to go, Sara. Trust me, it’s only out of the respect I have for you, that I won’t be coming in tonight.”

  He grazed his lips across her cheek, from her ear to her mouth, and gave her a light kiss. It left her leaning in and waning for more.

  “Goodnight, Wilshire,” she said catching her breath.

  “Goodnight, Sara,” he called, as he walked back to his car.

  Sara entered her house, and locked the door. The first thing she did was take off her heels, that were starting to burn at the balls of her feet. The next thing she did was spread her arms and twirl around squealing with delight, like an immature little school girl that just got kissed for the first time.

  For the first time ever, Sara had a feeling that this relationship could actually go somewhere.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE - THE IDEA

  Lenny and Tessa arrived at the Cancun International Airport, from Miami International, which was only a little over an hour flight. After going through immigration, and collecting their bags at the baggage claim, they headed out of the airport, to the pre arranged hotel transportation.

  After forty five minutes of heading South in the stretched white van, they arrived at the Occidental Grande Hotel. Pulling up to the second floor lobby, the driver then removed their luggage from the back of the van, and Lenny tipped him, saying, “Thank you, Amigo.”

  They entered the expansive open air palapa, and were immediately
greeted, being handed one of the hotels signature tropical drinks, and a cool wet cloth. Being from South Florida, the cool cloth was nice, but they were used to the warm and humid weather. They weren’t sweltering like their counterparts visiting the hotel from various other regions of the country, where they see more snow than sunshine.

  They both marveled at the level of craftsmanship and elegance. The lobby with it’s marble floor and open air design, had a beautiful water feature that ran a good length of the entire lobby. At the far end of the lobby, which led to the rest of the hotel, there were two sets of wide staircases, opposite each other, that led down to a natural flowing river. This area featured an entire shopping strip, and a lobby bar. The furniture was of modern contemporary design, and tropical plants accented it all.

  After checking in at the front desk, their bags were taken by the bellman, and they were delivered promptly to their ocean view room, via a stretched golf cart tram.

  The room was not small and not large. It was perfect. The Mexican tile complimented the dark wood accent pieces, and tropical decor. Before exiting the room, the bellman gave Lenny and Tessa a map of the property. Looking at it, they saw that it was an expansive ecological reserve, complete with flamingos, monkeys, parrots, and deer.

  “Holy shit!” Lenny joked, “we better keep a hold of that thing, or we might just get lost.”

  “I’ll keep a hold of it, or else you’ll lose it,” she joshed.

  “Deal,” he said. “Now let’s go explore this place and find a cold beer somewhere. What do you say, Mrs. Shane?”

  “Well, you can have the beer, I want a nice, tropical fruity drink,” she said.

  The next eight days were filled with relaxation, exploration, rejuvenation, and of course, lots of romance.

  On the last night of their stay, they had reservations for dinner at one of the resort’s themed reservation-only restaurants.

  They dined on a scrumptious array of Japanese cuisine. During the desert course, Tessa leaned in and gazed into her lover’s eyes and said, “Lenny, thank you for this. I have had such a wonderful time. I needed this… We needed this.”

  Lenny winked at her from across the table and said, “no, thank you, Tessa. Thank you for sticking with me for all of these years. Even when I was always working, and not around much. It was always nice to come home to you. And,” he added changing to a more playful tone, “I have also enjoyed myself so much this week, that I think we’re just going to have to make this a yearly trip.”

  “Now, that sounds like a plan!” she exclaimed.

  “On a more serious note, Lenny, I want to run something by you,” she said.

  He only nodded his head to indicate for her to continue on, because he had a mouthful of desert.

  “Well,” she said with hesitation, “I’ve been thinking about you this week. About your retirement from the force, and I think I’ve come up with something that you might like.”

  Swallowing his mouthful, and full of intrigue, he said, “go on.”

  “Well, what if you were to open a private investigative firm?” She judged his facial expression, and determined that he was still interested in her continuing. She continued on, “this way, you take the cases you want, don’t take the ones you don’t. You will work for yourself, on your own hand selected cases. Make your own schedule. You’ll still kind of be doing what you love to do, but you’ll have more time to spend doing other things.” Her words were of a more of a non argumentative inquisition, than stated facts. She was giving him things to think about, and he seemed to be receptive.

  Leaning back in his chair, Lenny took a long sip of his black coffee. Setting the cup down, he ran his hand over his thick mustache to smooth it out. Tessa was looking at him, waiting for him to say something.

  “Yeah, I like it. I think that’s a fine idea, Tessa. Only one problem I see.”

  “What’s that?” she said, pretty excited about his reception to her idea.

  “If I’m going to be doing private investigative work, the first thing I’m going to need is a really good photographer. You know one?” he asked with a completely serious face.

  “Me?” she questioned, as she brought her hand up and placed it on her chest. “You want me, to work with you?” she said in disbelief. This possibility had never entered her mind, when she devised the idea.

  “Why not? You’re one of the best damn photographers I’ve seen. It will give us time together, and who knows, maybe we can find some sort of exciting Mission Impossible type cases,” he laughed.

  Speechless, she gathered her thoughts and said, “I accept the position, Mr. Shane. Thank you for the offer!” she exclaimed.

  #####

  EPILOGUE

  Several weeks later, after giving his retirement notice, Lenny sat behind the cherry wood desk in his second floor, four hundred square foot private investigative office. It wasn’t big, but big enough for a front reception area, a restroom, a small darkroom, and a private office. Thanks to Tessa’s decorating skills, the space was homey and comfortable. If it were up to him, he could have sufficed with two chairs, a desk, and a coffee pot.

  He stuffed several compromising photos of a married male and an unmarried female, in a plain manila envelope. The work wasn’t all that exciting, but it was steady. Surprising how many Wives and Husbands didn’t trust their spouses. Funny thing was, the majority of them were right not to.

  Being a PI certainly had its perks over being a cop. For instance, he was “allowed” to do certain things that he couldn’t do when he was a cop. Things that may have gotten cases thrown out of court. That part, he liked.

  He and Tessa had never been closer than now. He loved watching the excitement on her face when they went on a stake out, or on a so called fishing expedition. Sometimes they even devised set-ups to see if any bate would be taken. But, he longed for a case that would stimulate his brain. Something he could really sink his teeth into. Something that mattered.

  Lenny looked up, as a soft knock came on his door. “Come in.”

  Lenny smiled and stood to embrace his former boss, Lieutenant Sara Whitten. “Sara! How are you?” he asked, as he came around the desk and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her on the cheek.

  Lieutenant Sara Whitten returned the gesture, but seemed a little too stiff. Lenny got the feeling this wasn’t just a social call or happy hour visit. “What? You’re not happy to see me?” he joshed.

  “Yes,” she smiled. “Yes, Lenny, I’m very happy to see you, but I don’t think you’re going to be all that happy to see me,” she said, hanging her head, and looking at the polished terrazzo floor.

  Lenny motioned for her to sit, and he walked over to the coffee pot. Sara settled herself in an overstuffed armchair. As he was brewing them some fresh Columbian java, he said with his back to her, “Well, before we get to that, let’s catch up a little. So…how’s everyone doing. I mean,” Lenny turned and pointed to her left ring finger, “ I noticed that rock you have on your finger, the minute you walked through the door. Damn thing nearly blinded me,” he joked. Sara giggled. God she missed being around him everyday. “You know, how the hell do you lift that thing?”

  Sara lifted her hand and admired the platinum band topped with a flawless one carat princess cut diamond. Smiling, she said, “well, I did have to wear a sling for the first week.”

  Lenny settled into his chair behind the desk, and set two steaming cups down in front of them. “Obviously, Wilshire is doing great, so I don’t even need to ask about him.” Taking a sip of his straight black, he said with concern, “and how’s my boy, Layne?”

  “He’s doing okay. He actually went to visit Katy’s family in Ohio, to take some of her personal items to them, and attend the funeral Since the visit with her family, he seems to be in much better spirits,” she said.

  Lenny leaned in across the desk. “So, what is it, Sara? Why are you here? What’s wrong?”

  Placing her hands on her temples, Sara rubbed them and squinted her ey
es. “I’m sorry, Lenny, I don’t know how to tell you this, other than just to tell you straight up.”

  With his curiosity now peaking, he leaned further in, and said, “Go on.”

  Sara took a deep sigh, and exhaled quickly. “When you were on your trip to Mexico, something happened. Had you been here, you would have known because it was temporarily leaked out all over the press.” She took another deep breath and continued, “Since you were not here, we decided to keep it from you, to protect you. Your sanity. Tessa’s sanity. We had twenty four hour protection detail on the both of you.”

  Lenny leaned back in his chair, and steepled his fingers. In a calm and rationally demanding voice, he asked, “What happened, Sara? Why the hell would we need twenty four hour protection detail?”

  “Oh, God,” she quaked. Her insides twisted, but she managed to spit the words out of her mouth. “To make a long and complicated story short, while you were away, Verde Senior donned an elaborate disguise, complete with falsified identification, and posed as Bobby Thorne’s lawyer… they’re gone, Lenny. There gone, and we don’t know where they are. They could be out of state. Hell, they could be out of the country, for that matter. That’s why I’m here. We want you on the case, Lenny. Not in an official capacity, of course, but we want you. All of my resources would be at your disposal.” Sara sat there searching Lenny’s eyes for something. Anything would be good right about now. Even anger. He didn’t elicit any emotion at the news.

  Reaching into his pocket, he unwrapped and popped a stick of Wrigley’s into his mouth and chewed with slow intention. Staring at Sara, he mulled everything she said, over in his brain, before he spoke.

  “Please say something,” Sara begged. The stone look he had on his face was more frightening than giving him the actual news.

  Lenny intertwined his fingers, and laid his hands on his desk. His heart started to beat a little faster. He couldn’t tell if it was due to anger, disappointment, or the impending excitement of the thrill of the chase. He had caught both of the bastards before, so he could do it again. And for round two, he wouldn’t be bound by all of the bureaucratic red tape. Ding. Ding. He was ready to step into the ring, once again. “I have to speak to the Missus first, but if it’s all clear with her, when do we start?”