by R. S. Smith
“Screw the shareholders, hon. Just make sure we've got all our ducks in a row on this one. The firm needs that big billing in for this month. By the way, plan on joining me for dinner tonight. We're meeting with some potential new clients and I want you to get acquainted.”
Carlton's motivation for the dinner gathering was more social than business. He wanted to get to know Karlee on a more personal level, but was reluctant to ask her out on an actual date. The client portion of the dinner ended early, leaving the two of them to discuss things over after-dinner drinks.
“They seemed to like you, Karlee. You do a fine job of representing the firm.”
“Thanks, Carlton, but something just seems to be missing.”
“In their lawsuit material?”
“No, in my life. I'm tired of helping out the assholes of this world. I need to find something more fulfilling. Don't get me wrong; the money has been good. I can spend with abandon, I have all the material things I want, but I go home feeling empty at night.”
“Maybe you just need a good man in your life, Karlee. What does anything count for if you have no one with whom to share it? You've followed my guidance at the firm; follow it outside the firm, too. You need to take time to allow romance to enter your life, then you will find that fulfillment,” he said, trying to set her up for a more intimate involvement with him. He came from a wealthy, but very conservative family. Karlee's background was just the opposite.
Carlton was able to persuade her to join him for an excursion on the family sailing yacht, and later on some business trips that turned out to be more focused on bringing them closer together than on work. Soon she was invited to dinner at the palatial family estate to meet the parents, Reginald and Beatrice. They presented themselves as something akin to European royalty and had the snobbery to go along with it. She learned later they were considered 'old money' people and that their great, great grandpa had made a fortune as a rum-runner smuggling in illegal goods. They had had the Midas touch with their investments over the years and had parlayed those initial funds well into the millions.
As the next few years slipped by, opposites attracted and the two of them became engaged. Carlton treated her like a princess and she loved that. He bought her expensive jewelry and a sleek, all-black convertible sports car. She spent more time with her car than her fiancé. He was clueless as to her sideline activities, the advanced fighting and the shooting, seeing her only as a potential trophy wife. Her sister Kris had gotten the sought-after part on the TV show and was doing quite well. One time, the two of them appeared together in an episode called 'The Sinclair Affair' as long lost twins.
One of the law firm’s clients had recently been acquitted on an embezzlement charge. Karlee knew he was guilty, but because of the attorney-client relationship was unable to say anything. Using the legal system gave her a gratifying sense of power, but it wasn’t providing the results she craved. She wanted more control of her environment; instead, it was controlling her. One time in a class-action suit, their billings had been so high that the plaintiffs got almost nothing after fees. The firm was more interested in its reputation for their high percentage of wins than in serving justice, and her work had been a major factor in that outcome. Karlee thought it ridiculous and so morally wrong and worried it could bring her bad karma unless she did something about it.
She had been enjoying the time with her fiancé. The sex was good, but not passionate. She longed for prolonged orgasms like the ones she read about in her romance novels. Frustrated in her job and frustrated in her relationship, she yearned for a change. The chance came her way when Carlton once again approached her in the office.
“Karlee, we've been asked to settle the estate for our recently-deceased Secretary of State. I need you to go to his home and go through his belongings, cataloging everything for the heirs. He lived alone, so there shouldn't be too much difficulty. Just itemize and photograph the valuable items, and then we'll have the movers pack everything.”
The two sisters had already made plans to spend some quality time together that evening, so she stopped and picked up Kris on the way, figuring it wouldn't take too long, and that they could do dinner-out afterward. Karlee read off the items; Kris wrote them into the logbook.
“Are we done yet, sis? I'm getting hungry.” Kris said.
“Yeah, almost, let's do the closet stuff and then we're done.” She rummaged through a few expensive Rolex watches and other jewelry items, then came to a large, nondescript shoebox. Kris looked on as Karlee pulled off the lid.
“Oh my God!” they gasped in unison.
“I've never seen so much money before!” Kris said, trying to catch her breath. “Should we count it?”
When they finally finished, they turned and looked at one another. The total had come to eight hundred thousand dollars. Neither spoke for quite some time; each just silently stared, waiting for the other to say something. Finally Kris broke the silence.
“I never realized so much money could fit into a shoebox. Who wudda ever thunk it? Do you think he got it illegally, sis?”
“Yeah, I bet he skimmed the state finances and kept it as a slush fund for payoffs and retirement.”
“You know, if we turn this in, it could impugn your client's reputation. It would be like speaking ill of the dead. We could be doing him a favor if we just kept it our secret.”
“You're suggesting we simply keep it? That's so not you, Kristie! Besides, maybe it's mob money. We could get ourselves into some deep shit.”
“Yeah, maybe so.” They sat in silence awhile longer, then Kris declared, “Our dinner reservation is at eight.”
“Oh, okay, let's go.” They placed the unlisted shoebox into a plastic grocery bag and left.
Both had now crossed that invisible line of ethical and legal integrity for the first time in their lives. As the door closed on their history of honor and morality, another one would be opening.
Nearly a month had passed when the sisters were invited to join Carlton's family, the Vanderfleets, for their Thanksgiving dinner. Karlee had commented to her sister that his family was basically a bunch of snobby, stuffed shirts that needed to be loosened up somehow. Carlton's cousins Randolph and Janine would be there, too. They were brother and sister. Karlee and Kristie had purchased similar new outfits for the occasion. An hour of smalltalk in the family library preceded the big meal, with various hors d'oeuvres and ice water with lemon slices being served.
The sisters learned that Carlton had earned his law degree at Harvard, Randolph had attended Yale, and that Janine had gotten a business degree at Radcliffe. Randolph was quiet, but intense and had a short, well-trimmed beard. He was President of his father's import-export business. Janine, in her mid-thirties, was a financier who brokered deals and found places to invest for a cadre of wealthy people. She had a background with New York investment houses, had spent time in London working her way up the corporate ladder, and had flown in from New York City to spend the holidays with family. Her appearance was tall and leggy, with dark black hair and bright blue eyes.
The butler rang a little dinner bell and everyone adjourned to the spacious dining room. A life-size portrait of grandpa Vanderfleet hung noticeably on the wall behind Carlton's father as he prepared to carve-up the big bird. Carlton and Karlee sat together on one side of the table; Randolph and Kristie sat together opposite them.
“So tell us a little bit about you, Kristie,” requested Mrs. Vanderfleet.
“Oh, I do some modeling and acting, ma'am.”
“That's nice, dear,” she replied in an aloof manner.
“I have a regular role on one of the TV sitcoms.”
“Well, we don't watch that sort of amusement, dear. It's strictly educational programs in our household. If it's not a show from which we can better ourselves, we don't bother with it,” claimed the matronly hostess. Then she added, “Please remove your elbows from the table, Randolph.”
As she continued speaking and as her husba
nd carved, the waitstaff began serving drinks. Instead of the conventional white wine being served with the holiday turkey, the family partook solely of martinis, with no other choices offered. The unusual tradition made it instantly obvious to the sisters why no cocktails had been served earlier. Kristie looked over at her sister as if to say, 'Oh this should get interesting'. Karlee returned a smirk of agreement.
Taking her first sip, Kris looked over at her neighbor and asked, “So Randolph, may I call you Randy?”
“No,” he brusquely replied.
She returned to her cocktail, ignoring the perceived slight.
“Please ignore my rude cousin,” said Carlton. “They don't teach proper etiquette at Yale.”
Then Janine chimed in, “Actually, I blame his personality on PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. He hasn't been the same since getting back from Afghanistan. You'll probably get to like him once you know him, assuming you ever do.”
“Well, thank you for serving, Randolph,” Kris said patronizingly.
“He was in black-ops there,” his sister added. “He never talks about it though.”
“That's enough, sis. I'd rather hear about the young lady's experiences as a model and an actress.”
As everyone busily devoured the turkey, the conversation droned on, and the martinis were repeatedly refilled. Randolph reminded Kris of Dan, the young man with whom she had once auditioned, and the drinks soon had her imagining him naked just as Dan had been. The sisters once again exchanged glances, and because each knew how the other thought, Kris knew Karlee felt it time to loosen things up a bit. She leaned closer to Randolph and spoke quietly into his ear.
“May I tell you a secret, good sir?”
“Sure, Kris, I'm good at keeping secrets.”
She slurred her words a bit as she said, “My sister isn't wearing any paanntieees.”
Startled by such a revelation, he asked “Why ever not, dear girl?”
“Carlton told her that since it's Thanksgiving and since they have a lot to be thankful for, he wants to express his appreciation later tonight. She wants him to do that by enjoying the special taste of her extraordinary dessert, and doesn't want anything getting in the way. For her, it's the price of admission, if you know what I mean.”
A look of astonishment slowly evolved on Randolph's face as her comment began to sink in. Both girls looked on at him with eager anticipation for the response. They could tell he was getting some mental images in his mind as his staid grimace turned into a broad grin. When Karlee winked at him from across the table, the broad grin became boisterous laughter.
“What's so funny, nephew?” inquired the aging Mrs.Vanderfleet.
“Nothing in particular, Aunt Bea. These martinis simply have me feeling giddy.”
Randolph now leaned closer to Kris and asked, “Why not just use edible panties?”
Although it wasn't true, she whispered back, “Oh, that's what I'm wearing. Ya know, my sister is more of a taker than a giver when it comes to things like that. I'm more of a giver. Do you like that, Randy? Er, I mean Randolph. I wonder if Aunt Bea is, too. I do love that name. Let's ask her.”
He discretely muffled her inquiry.
Once the dinner ended, everyone moved into the parlor. Mr. Vanderfleet offered the gentlemen cigars, but he was the only one to light up. Coffee was served to alleviate some of the group's drunkenness. Karlee and Carlton sat together on a sofa near the fireplace; Randolph became more attentive to Kris and joined her on the loveseat. The others wandered about the room chatting.
“From what your sister said, it sounds like you had some intense experiences overseas,” Kris remarked, probing for more information.
“I don't usually like to discuss it, but I was the best sharpshooter over there,” he bragged.
“Really? I've been thinking about getting a rifle. Maybe you can help me find one that's right for me.”
“What do you want to use it for? There are different types for different uses. Most of what I know is about sniper weaponry. I can hit a target from a mile away!” He looked at her for some sort of approving acknowledgment.
“That is impressive! So can you teach me to be a good sniper?” she asked, implying it to be a jest. What she really had in the back of her mind was one day doing the same sort of thing.
Janine came over and asked if she might join the couple for a moment. They squeezed her in on the loveseat.
“We haven't really had any time to chat, Kris, but living in Manhattan, I'm familiar with your show and its producers.”
“You are? Do you handle their investments? That is so cool.”
“Actually I'm an Independent Contractor. I do jobs for corporations, individuals, and sometimes for the government, too. You'd be surprised at the variety of contacts one gets in my line of work.”
As Kris looked into Janine's bright blue eyes, she sensed a level of intensity higher than Randolph's. She was prone to judging people by their eyes. Randolph's were unreadable; hers had a look of innocence-lost. It spooked her a little.
“I've followed your career, Kris, and am hoping that the next time you're in Manhattan, we can do lunch.”
“Gee, that would be great.”
“Besides your producers, I also know some bigger ones. Maybe I can help you out. My friends would be impressed seeing me with a celebrity.”
“I doubt your friends need any impressing, Janine, but that sounds fun.”
The evening soon came to its conclusion, Carlton had gotten his just desserts, and the girls returned to their respective hi-rise condos.
As the next few months passed, Kris and Randolph spent an increasing amount of time together. Unlike her sister, she found her affair to be one fueled by more consuming emotion. She experienced her first orgasm. It turned out that Randolph rode a Harley on the weekends, and one time they even had sex on it. One afternoon they had been out for a ride in the country and stopped by to visit Karlee on the way back. They found her front door wide open and Karlee inside in tears.
“Oh my God, sis! What happened?!”
“Someone ransacked my condo. I feel so violated.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, and nothing seems to be missing. The police are on their way over.”
“I haven't mentioned it to anyone yet, but I've had the feeling I've been followed the last few days,” Kris revealed to them both.
“Oh geez, hon, you don't suppose that...,” she stopped short of saying anything more in front of Randolph. “You'd better go check on your place!”
It was soon discovered that both condos had been broken into. The girls spent that night with a mutual friend and compared notes when they were alone.
“Do you think it could have anything to do with all that money?” Kris asked.
“What else could it be? What are the odds we'd both have break-ins the same day? It's a good thing the money is in a safe place.”
A concerned Randolph had related the story to his sister Janine. She was more connected than even he had realized and shared some tidbits of information. On their next date, he asked Kris a few probing questions.
“Carlton bragged to me that he was handling the estate settlement for one of the big politicians. I'm guessing that Karlee did some legwork on that. Did your sister take you with her?”
“We do lots of stuff together,” she answered evasively.
“I'm going to connect some dots here, sweetheart, and leap to the conclusion that you two took something that maybe you shouldn't have.”
She showed a look of confusion.
“That night at dinner you asked if I could keep a secret. Can you keep one, Kris?”
“Yes, you're scaring me, Ran.”
“My sister told you she does contract work. She gets lots of unusual requests by referral because she is so good at what she does. These aren't written contracts as most are not of a legal nature, if you know what I mean. Sometimes the job is in New York, sometimes London, sometimes Chicago.”
/> “What are you trying to say?”
“Something has just come to her attention about you guys.”
“I'm having trouble understanding what I'm hearing, Randolph.”
“I'm just suggesting that you and your sister go into hiding for awhile is all.”
“So Janine is with the m-o-b?!”
“She has lots of 'friends'. This time it's your Lieutenant Governor, not the m-o-b.”
“Oh shit! Your frigging sister has contract hits on me and my sister?!”
“I didn't say that, but now you can see why such information must be protected. And you're right, but she's agreed to decline the contract because of our situation. When she does, someone else will take it. The order is for extraction of information and two kills.”
Kris immediately picked up the phone and updated Karlee.
“So it's not a mob contract, it's that crooked Lieutenant Governor Wallace?” Karlee asked, needing to make sure she had all the details correct.
“Yeah, and if we don't do something about it, it's just a matter of time until that really deep shit hits the fan, sis.”
“Okay, Kris, let me take care of things. I'll call you in the morning.”
Karlee got her Glock pistol and a recently acquired silencer, and then departed for Springfield, the state Capitol. She had never fired at anything more than a paper target, but no one messed with her and her sister and got away with it. She assumed that the two politicians had been in cahoots and hoped resolving the issue with this character would keep them out of harm's way.
It wasn't difficult for the determined young woman to find his impressive residence in the darkness. She had parked her black convertible a safe distance away, worn latex gloves to ensure no retrievable DNA or fingerprints, worn a hood to conceal her face from any surveillance cameras, and even wiped finger prints from her ammunition. There was an armed guard outside. He was smoking a cigarette when she came up from behind and took him out with a choke hold. There had been a struggle, but her previous fighting experience proved most useful. The doors were all locked, so she covered an obscured window with masking tape and then tapped it repeatedly with the butt of her weapon until it quietly shattered. She slipped in and found the wicked fellow asleep.