The Memory Agent & Fool Me Once

by Kane, Joany

  “Sleep's overrated,” Derek quips.

  “Are you married to your job, detective?”

  “Let's just say I'm dedicated to it.”

  “I'm still alive thanks to that dedication,” Jillian responds, with a great deal of emotion and gratitude in her voice. “Your dad would be very proud.”

  Derek appreciates her comments with a warm smile. There’s an awkward moment between them as their eyes lock. The desire is there for both of them, ready to erupt, but Derek has to keep things professional, he can’t afford to let his guard down. “We both better get some sleep,” he begrudgingly suggests.

  Jillian understands, she crawls under the covers on one of the beds. “Good night, detective.”

  It’s the middle of the night and Derek is asleep in the bed next to Jillian’s bed. Jillian is asleep, but her sleep is fitful. She's having a nightmare, which ends with her crying out.

  Derek snaps awake, hops out of bed and hurries to her. He takes her in his arms to comfort her. She's shaken, trembling.

  “It was just a bad dream. You're safe. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” Derek reassures Jillian.

  “I wasn't dreaming that I was hurt, I was dreaming that you were hurt.”

  “I'm okay. Everything's going to be okay,” his voice soothing.

  Jillian cuddles into Derek’s shoulder, resting against his brawny chest not wanting him to move.

  Realizing she needs the physical comfort, he positions himself on the bed for her to fall asleep in the nook of his arm. Which she does. Straight away. He watches her sleeping, brushing her hair away from her eyes while tenderly stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers. And soon he falls asleep.

  *****

  The next morning Derek, showered and cleaned up, sits by the motel room window checking his guns. Jillian, still asleep, finally awakens. First thing she notices is Derek is gone from the bed, which bums her. But when she sees him by the window she’s relieved. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well, after the nightmare that is,” she reveals.

  “I had a pretty good night sleep myself,” he adds.

  “What time is it?”

  “You've got the watch.”

  She looks at it. It reads 11:30am. “Wow, I slept that long?”

  “Not much longer than me.”

  Jillian gets out of bed and approaches Derek. She takes off the wristwatch. “You should probably have this back.”

  “Not yet. That watch does not leave your wrist until this is all over.”

  “What do we do now?” Jillian asks as she puts the watch back on.

  “First, I need to check in with the CS investigators. See if the evidence has produced any leads, check out some things online. This motel doesn’t have wifi but there’s a place across the street that does.”

  “I'm going to take a shower.” Jillian heads for the bathroom.

  Inside the bathroom she strips and gets in the shower. The hot water runs down her naked body.

  Seated by the window, Derek can hear the shower running. He’s imagining Jillian in the shower, and imagining joining her in the shower, and the thoughts are making him flustered. He shakes his head as if trying to push out the erotic images from his mind.

  A short time later, Jillian and Derek head out from their motel room, cross the street and walk to a dive bar. They enter.

  Derek checks out the joint. There are a few old drunks at the bar and a couple of cocky college boys playing pool. The college boys check out Jillian and then Derek. The 12+ years age difference between the two isn't lost on the boys.

  Derek takes a seat at the bar and opens up his notebook logging on with the dive bar’s wifi. Jillian takes a seat next to him. Derek accesses his email program and sends an instant message to the CSI lab at the police station. He asks about the evidence and then waits for a reply.

  The CS investigator replies that no images were caught on the security tapes and that the finger prints from the museum belonged to a low level Russian mob thug whose dead body was discovered last night in an abandoned lot. The investigator explains that they believe the leak was inside the FBI since no one in the police department knew where Jillian was taken.

  “Any news?” Jillian asks.

  “Nothing helpful.”

  “I'm going to the ladies room. I’ll be right back,” Jillian gets up and walks down the length of the bar to the back where the restrooms are located.

  The college boys watch her. Derek watches the college boys. He resumes his work on the computer.

  Moments later Jillian exits the ladies room to find that the college boys are now hanging around by the end of the bar. They step in her way blocking her path to Derek.

  “Hey, doll. Did that old man give you that welt on your cheek?” one of the boys asks.

  “We could take him down for you if you want,” another boy offers.

  Derek notices the interaction and is about to get up and intervene when Jillian shakes her head no.

  “That man saved my life and he is way more man than the two of you little boys will ever be.” Jillian proudly states loud enough for Derek to hear.

  Jillian shoulders her way past the college boys. She walks confidently to Derek. Derek has swiveled on his bar stool so his full, strong, broad body is facing Jillian. “What was that all about?” Derek asks curiously.

  Jillian doesn’t answer. Instead she walks right up to Derek, placing her body between his legs on the stool, puts her hands on either side of his face, leans her body into his and kisses him. Not tenderly, not sweetly. With full blown desire and passion.

  Initially Derek is stunned, but it doesn't take him more than a nano second to plunge his tongue into Jillian’s mouth, grab her as close as he can and equally return the desire and passion. The kiss is epic, a year of pent up longings exploding in this embrace. With their bodies touching Jillian can feel Derek getting hard so she presses her hips into his encouraging the growing desire.

  The old men at the bar perk up with life as they watch the kiss. The bartender fans herself as she watches the kiss. And the college boys, miffed, know deep down that they will never ever be kissed like that in their entire lives. One of them calls out…”Get a room.”

  Derek and Jillian rush into the motel room, still embraced, and immediately resume their torrid kissing. They kick off their shoes and tear at each other’s tops removing their shirts and Jillian’s bra in a frenzy to get naked.

  That’s when Jillian sees it – Derek’s upper torso is covered with scars; bullet scars, knife scars, war burn scars. She gasps bringing the passion to a screeching halt.

  Vulnerability and humiliation creep into Derek’s eyes and expression. “Real appealing, huh?” He says off of Jillian’s response to his scars. She doesn’t answer. Instead she does something that completely blows his mind. She gently and sweetly kisses every single scar on his body. His eyes mist, overwhelmed by the power of her tenderness.

  When she has finished kissing the scars she looks at him tenderly, “everything about you is appealing to me, Derek,” she claims with heartfelt conviction.

  His eyes widen, deeply touched by her words. “Say it again,” he says softly. “My name, say it again.”

  She looks deeply in his eyes as she says his name again with a loving smile, her voice caressing his soul, “Derek.”

  He grabs her in an embrace, the passionate fervor has returned. But there’s a new layer to the desire, a deeper connection between them; the aching need is not only physical, it’s now emotional and they are the only ones who can quench each other’s desire, who can satisfy each other’s needs.

  They break their embrace to remove their pants. Jillian, now naked, playfully hops on the bed, props herself on her elbows, spreads her legs and gives Derek one hell of a come hither look.

  “So you wanna play now?” He teases as he saunters his naked, hard body to the bed giving her a devilish smile.

  “You better believe it!” She retorts as she wiggles her hips ta
untingly. “Feel free to cuff me if you want.”

  “Not our first time. I want you touching me our first time” Derek says softly and seriously. Then he grins, “the third or fourth time we can add toys.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Jillian encourages. She positions herself onto her knees near the edge of the bed and opens her arms, ready to touch him.

  He walks into her waiting embrace and plants a wet, hot kiss on her. Jillian runs her fingers down Derek’s taut chest, sensually caressing his warm skin. Her fingers move south until they find what their looking for, his sweet hardness. She runs her fingers up and down his hard shaft and then grips it coaxing it to stiffen even more. Derek buries a moan in Jillian’s neck, his warm breath and tickling scruff send shivers throughout her body. “I need you,” he whispers into her ear.

  Jillian’s need for him is just as strong. She releases her grip and tugs Derek back down onto the bed so he’s on top of her. She spreads her legs further apart pressing her hips into his. Derek’s fingers find Jillian’s sweet spot. He caresses her clit and then shoves two fingers inside of her, probing, finding her wet with anticipation.

  “You have no idea how often I dreamt about this, about making love to you, wondering how it’d feel to have you inside of me,” she tenderly tells him as she caresses his face.

  Derek answers her by awakening her dream. He removes his fingers and then drives his erection into her. She gasps, her body overcome with pleasure at the feel of him inside of her. She looks him in the eyes as he at first moves slowly, both of them relishing the feeling. “This is so much better than my dreams,” Jillian coos breathlessly.

  Derek thrusts deeper and harder. Her arching hips meet his intensity thrust for thrust. The desire and longing for him has been so great for so long she comes quickly. Derek smiles feeling her hot arousal warming his manhood. He comes right after her and then kisses her deep and hard before pulling out. With his lips by her cheek, he murmurs, “You invigorate me.”

  *****

  At the police station one of the CS investigators walks by Knox’s desk. “Hey hold up,” Knox says to the investigator. “What’s happening with the Reynolds case now that Winton is MIA?” Knox asks.

  “He’s not completely MIA, we’ve been exchanging emails.” The investigator responds.

  “Did he tell you where he’s holed up?” Knox pries.

  “I didn’t ask, he didn’t offer,” the investigator continues on his way.

  Knox turns his attention to his computer. He logs into the police department CSI files. He searches and finds the email exchanges with Derek. Knox puts a trace on the location of the internet service Derek used. The dive bar comes up. Knox smiles a mean ass smile as if thinking to himself “got him.”

  Knox watches as two feds storm into Captain Harris’s office.

  In the Captain’s office the feds grill him about Derek and Jillian’s location.

  “I have no idea where he is. I haven't heard from him in over twenty-four hours,” the captain tells the feds.

  “You need to get him and the witness back here now, she needs to identify the killer!” One of the feds hollers. “Four of my agents are dead!”

  “Because there is a leak somewhere, no doubt on your end, and until the leak is plugged, the witness is safe with my detective.” The captain holds his ground.

  “He better have her in one piece,” one of the feds warns.

  *****

  In the motel room Derek most definitely has Jillian in one piece. Naked and in one piece. Jillian and Derek lay in bed, cuddled and sleeping, spent from hours of lovemaking. Derek's eyes open wide as if sensing something is wrong.

  Outside of the motel room it’s dark and quiet. A half dozen of Bosovich's men approach the motel.

  They're carrying high powered rifles and guns, the kind that could rip a hole the size of an eggplant in someone's gut. All the guns have silencers on them.

  The gunmen see Derek’s jeep parked in front of the door. They open fire on the room. Bullets shatter all the windows in the room. Bullets lacerate the cheaply built walls and doors.

  One of the gunmen kicks the door in and the men enter the dark room. It appears that there are two lifeless bodies in one of the beds. The men riddle the beds with more bullets.

  One of the gunmen checks the bed, there are no bodies just bunched up pillows and blankets made to look like bodies.

  As the men exit the room, Derek comes out from his hiding spot. With one gun in each hand, Derek opens fire on the gunmen. Calm and sure, Derek sharp shoot nails every single bad guy.

  But he wasn't expecting another group of gunmen, who were guarding the entrance to the motel. These gunmen give chase.

  Derek grabs Jillian, who was hidden away from the room, and they hoof it away from the motel. The gunmen pursue and it's a foot chase through the shady neighborhood.

  Derek and Jillian run into a jazz club. The dark and smoky club is packed. Jazz musicians play on the stage. Derek and Jillian hurry through the club. Derek opens the back door and then takes Jillian behind the stage where Derek can see the band and the entrance.

  Derek watches as a couple of the gunmen enter, their guns concealed. The gunmen look around. They look in back and see that there's an open back door. They leave through the back door.

  Derek relaxes. They're safe for now. He holds Jillian tight. The sultry music adds to the combustion.

  A sound guy approaches. Derek takes a fifty dollar bill from his wallet and waves it at the sound guy. “Can I borrow your phone?” Derek asks the guy.

  The guy takes the fifty and hands his phone to Derek. Derek makes a call. “Hey, it's Derek. I need your help.”

  *****

  A Dodge pick-up pulls up to the front of the jazz club. Derek and Jillian exit the club and hurry into the jeep. The pick-up drives away. But not before one of Bosovich's men, who is casing the area, sees Derek and Jillian in the pick-up. The gunman makes note of the license plate number.

  Inside the pick-up truck Jillian and Derek sit in the front seat with Quentin Bale. Quentin, near sixty, is a rugged, weathered veteran with jagged looks.

  “Quentin, this is Jillian March,” Derek introduces.

  “How do, mam?”

  “Quentin was my commander in the Gulf War. Taught me how to fight, to shoot. He helped get me the detective job in Bridgeport,” Derek tells Jillian.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Quentin,” Jillian smiles.

  “I've been listening in to the scanners. They found your jeep at the motel and all the dead guys. You're in a world of trouble, Win.” Quentin says, quite fatherly.

  “I know. I just need time to think. There's something I'm missing. The leak can't be a fed because they didn't know about the motel. But neither did anyone at the station,” Derek relates.

  “Anyone can be tracked nowadays,” Quentin offers.

  The Dodge pick-up pulls up to an ocean cliffside cabin and parks.

  “My Shangri-la,” Quentin announces as they hop out of the truck.

  Jillian looks out over the cliff. She can hear the crashing waves and looks up at the millions of stars in the sky. “Great view,” she admires.

  “Lady friends are putty in my hands when I bring them here,” Quentin boasts with a twinkle.

  Derek has no interest in stars or views. He is lost in thought. Jillian looks at him.

  “He gets like this when he's looking for what his gut is trying to tell him,” Quentin shares with Jillian.

  Derek takes a seat on the bench in front of the cabin, focused and thinking.

  “Would you like a cup of tea, Jillian?” Quentin asks.

  “Yes, thank you,” she answers. Quentin and Jillian enter the cabin, leaving Derek alone outside.

  Inside the cabin Quentin and Jillian head for the kitchen. Jillian stops to look at a framed photo hanging on the wall. The photo is of Quentin with his squad, including a young Derek. Jillian recognizes Derek immediately, her eyes brighten.

  “Yeah, th
at’s Derek back when he was green,” Quentin points out.

  Jillian can’t take her eyes off of the photo thinking about what a world of experiences Derek has lived through. Quentin studies her.

  “You’re the prankster,” he states. Jillian nods.

  “He talked about you once,” Quentin shares.

  This comment gets Jillian’s attention. “He did?!”

  “Last August. Here at the cabin we were having an end of summer cook-out. He had a few more beers than usual and opened up. About you. It blew my mind to hear him mention a woman of interest, he’s always been alone, a loner. He sure smiled when he told me about your pranks. For guys like us who have seen a hell of a lot of death and destruction, smiles don’t come easy.”

  “I love him, Quentin,” Jillian claims, with heartfelt meaning.

  “I know you do, kid. It’s easy to see,” Quentin smiles reassuringly.

  Outside of the cabin, Derek is still on the bench lost in thought. What the hell is he missing? Derek recalls the night of the murder. He remembers the cop telling him how Knox was first on the scene. How did Knox get to the scene so quickly?

  Derek rushes into the cabin. “Quen, where's your phone?” Derek calls out.

  “My iphone’s on the coffee table, Win,” Quentin points.

  Derek picks up the phone and makes a call. “This is detective Winton. I need you to check incoming and outgoing phone calls on the night of the congressman’s murder. Within two hours of the murder. The phone number I need checked is 555-637-1398…Yes, I know whose number that is. I need this immediately. I will hold.”

  Derek paces as he waits. He's clearly agitated.

  In a different location, at the very same time, a couple of feds are in the van, listening in to phone conversations. One fed picks up a cell-phone and makes a call. “We've got Detective Winton on the phone now talking with a CSI. We'll have his location in one minute.”

  In the cabin, Derek is still pacing and waiting. He stops when the investigator on the other end resumes the call. “Yes, hello, I'm still here.” Derek says into the phone. He listens. “Who? Thank you.”