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Authors: R. S. Smith

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BOOK: Assassin Affairs
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“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 husband 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.

“Oh,
Mr. Wallace, you have company, sir,” she announced as she
connected the silencer, turned on the bedroom light and took aim.

The man
groggily opened his eyes. “Who's there?”

“Someone
who has brought you a surprise!” Pfft Pfft. She fired twice.
His wife had slept through it all. Karlee hesitated as she realized
the woman probably knew too much and presented a risk. With a sense
of regret, she fired off two more rounds. Pfft Pfft. She had now
crossed another line, and another door would be opening in her life.

Randolph's
phone rang as he and Kristie cuddled on his sofa back in Chicago.

BOOK: Assassin Affairs
11.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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