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Authors: Dick C. Waters

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Chapter
2

 

Mercedes
must be still upset with me. Although her note indicated she had to go to the
office today, I read between the lines. Recently, it hasn’t been easy for
either of us to get out of her apartment. One or the other picks up where we
left off the night before.

Frequently,
there’s the soft, but insistent touch of fingers against skin—my body awakening
before my mind. Then the wonderful feel of soft lips and an insistent tongue.
After a heated engagement, our race to see who can commandeer the best spot
under the shower head. Despite our intent to just shower, it is never just
that.

This
morning the shower felt cold and lonely. She already left for her office. For
the first time, I felt like I invaded her space.

I thought
about her request and realized I couldn’t tell her what I was going to do for
her father. I promised to help find who was blackmailing him and also promised
NOT to say a word to Mercedes about it.

I felt
the arrow scar and a smile crossed my face. Mercedes laughingly commented she
would always know how to find my prize…the arrow pointing at it.

Immediately,
I remembered her crazy sister carving my body with a fish knife that could have
done even more damage. She knew it, and she relished the fear in my eyes as she
purposely made me think of what she was capable of doing. She had me, and the
others, right where she wanted us, and she was unfortunately good at commanding
what she wanted from us.

Mercedes
was right…I could be dead now. Or, I could be useless as a man.
Do I really
want to do what I promised her father, or do I really want us happy for the
rest of our lives?

 

*.*.*

 

I hadn’t
smelled it before, but the scent of Mercedes’ Gardenia perfume caught my
attention as I wiped my face. I loved the scent and closed my eyes with the
towel held tightly to my nose. I could picture Mercedes’ soft body instead of
the towel.
Although people say they love each other, I honestly can picture
myself with her the rest of my life.

I looked
in the mirror and the smile was gone. I was trapped between trying to do the
right thing for her father and her insistence that I just focus on business
process improvement.

Mercedes
often told me to take the frown off my face. She liked it when I smiled making the
dimples prominent. She also commented that my blue eyes seemed to sparkle with
a light from inside. Many times recently she would run her hands through my
neatly combed blonde hair and tell me to go to her room and take off my
clothes. That was often hard to do being seated in a restaurant. She also liked
to see my face turn red, which she acknowledged with a wink and a lick of her
lips. Later, when we arrived at her apartment, she wouldn’t let me take off my
clothes…commenting that she had waited all night to do that. Her red nails
tracing the arrow scar would put a mischievous smile on her face.

I really
missed being close to her this morning. I dressed in one of the fresh set of
clothes I brought to her apartment. I made the bed, noticing it wasn’t the usual
shambles.
I guess I better plan on staying at my own apartment for the near
future. Although she didn’t specifically tell me to plan on that, I sense she
needs a day or two to herself. Should I leave her a note? She’ll know what’s up
when she notices what I’ve taken with me.

 

*.*.*

 

I loved
the feel of my ten year old ’58 Pontiac. However, the engine’s angry sound
clearly showed how upset I really was. There wasn’t much traffic on Memorial Drive this holiday morning. Stephen Strong wanted me to meet with him to talk about
a plan for my investigation. Yesterday, there wasn’t any problem with having a
meeting with him, but today was a different story.
Should I tell him that I
owe it to his daughter not to do his requested investigation?

The lot
could easily hold twenty cars, but today, due to the holiday there were only
three cars in the lot. His office building was a two-story rustic brick structure.
One side was devoted to his real estate development company and the other to
his real estate business. His personal office overlooked the lot and entry, and
provided an excellent view of the Charles River. I parked my car and looked up
toward his office, but the smoke colored glass hid any sign of life inside.

There
wasn’t anyone at the reception desk, which wasn’t a surprise. I took the stairs
behind her desk two at a time and wondered why I was rushing. Despite all of
the delay at Mercedes’ apartment I was still ten minutes early.

I
knocked on his door, but he wasn’t inside his office.

“Scott,
I’m over here pouring myself a cup of coffee. Would you care for a cup?”

I walked
down the short hall to the coffee nook and spotted Stephen pouring a second
cup. He looked different this morning. The tinges of gray in his hair at the
back of his neck were the same, but he had khaki colored Bermuda shorts, boat
shoes without socks. I hadn’t seen him previously without a suit or a sports
coat.

“Somehow
I knew you would be early Scott. Did you come over from your apartment?” he
asked, handing me one of the cups.

I could
feel my face flush, but smiled and took the cup. “No, actually I came over from
Mercedes’ apartment.” I’m sure he knew that, but was testing me.

He
smiled without replying, sipping some of his coffee. I took the opportunity to
retreat to his office. He followed, motioning me to have a seat in the sitting
area.

“So,
since you see more of my daughter than I do…how is she?”

I could
feel the frown coming. “Well today I really don’t know. When I woke up this
morning she had already left for the FBI building.” I paused checking for his
reaction. He just nodded. “Stephen, I have something to talk to you about.”

“That’s
why we’re here. However, I sense something is wrong. Care to share?”

I took a
deep breath, and noticed I could even hear my exhale. “Stephen we had words
last night.” I took a long drink of coffee. “That’s our first ever, and she was
obviously still upset with me this morning…only leaving a note that she left
for work.”

He
frowned and placed his cup on the coffee table and turned to face me. “It’s
about your doing this investigation isn’t it?”

“Oh, I
didn’t even tell her about our discussion, but she doesn’t want me near
any
investigations. She wants me to focus on safe things like our realty project.”

Stephen
looked up and out the window over my shoulder without commenting. I drank the
rest of my coffee and decided on a refill. I needed to let what I said sink in.

When I
came back in, he was standing looking out towards the Charles River. I could
feel my hand shaking realizing the impact of what I said.

He
didn’t turn around to face me. “Scott, I’ve got a real problem. I have no one
else to turn to for this investigation. I can’t share the details even with you,
but I can’t possibly involve Mercedes in this. You’re the right person to
handle this.” He turned and came back to the couch and sat down. “Scott, I’m
sorry I’ve put you in this awkward position. You really care for her don’t
you?”

I
swallowed and hoped only I could hear it. I hid quickly behind my coffee cup
while I considered how to answer.

“Scott,
you don’t have to answer that…I already know the answer.” He shook his head and
added, “I don’t want to do anything to ruin what you have, but what is
happening to me, could actually negatively impact Mercedes. I can’t share the
details, but I must find whoever is blackmailing me, and put a stop to it.” His
face turned red and he walked over to his desk.

He
unlocked and opened his center drawer pulling out a white envelope. “I didn’t
share this with you yesterday, but I want you to see how this could hurt
Mercedes.” He came back and sat on the couch as he handed me the envelope.

I opened
it and read the typed letter.

‘Mr.
Strong,

I know
what you did. I have the power to expose you and your secret.

I’m sure
you’re smart enough to realize what exposing this would do to you, your
business, your status and your family.

Unless I
receive $5,000 by Sunday midnight, I will contact the press to have this story
published.

I will
be in touch.

Mr.
Know!’

I folded
the letter, put it in the envelope and handed it back to Stephen. “That amount
could buy a couple of Cadillacs or make a big deposit on a house. When did you
get this letter?”

He took
a deep breath. “Eight weeks ago. That was the first of three similar letters. I
paid him what he requested, but he hasn’t stopped.” He pounded on the wooden
coffee table and his coffee spilled over the top of his cup. “Scott…he wants
another five tonight.”

I was
only half listening to his explanation of where he dropped the money.

He
brought my attention back when he added, “If you don’t help me, I’m going to
wait for this bum and I’m going to end this once and for all.”

Chapter
3

 

The
office building wasn’t busy today as she passed the security guard. “Good
morning Ms. Strong. I didn’t expect to see you today. Happy Fourth of July.”

She
regretted not smiling at him as she passed. “Yes and the same to you Mr.
McNichols. Crime doesn’t know a holiday.”

He
watched her long-red hair whip to the side as she turned quickly entering the
elevator.

There
were some typewriter sounds in the general office area as she unlocked her
office door. She didn’t feel like socializing this morning and threw the keys
onto her desk. She turned and shut her door so quickly it made a loud bang.
Although she had loafers on she was still tall enough to bow over the top of
the five-drawer file cabinet. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself.

Why
had she left without speaking with Scott? She was upset with him, but she let
her emotions get the best of her. That is so out of character for her. All she
wants is for him to forget investigative work and focus on something safer. If
anyone in the family needs to do investigative work—let it be her. Family?

Her
heart was beating and she could feel a doozy of a headache coming on. She sat
down at her desk and put her forehead on her arms. She could hear her deep
breathing.

She has
known Scott for years and they have never had words before. Even when she set
up the elaborate snowed in Christmas Eve at that lonely cabin and he never made
love to her, she didn’t get upset with him.
Why now?

The
arrow on his abdomen was a constant reminder of how close her sister came to
taking his life. She had two attempts to kill him or do him even more serious
damage and had failed. If her own skills hadn’t been that good she would never
have rescued him. She worried that she wouldn’t be that lucky a third time.

That is
ludicrous since her sister blew her head apart with a flare gun. Scott told her
that her sister changed into a different person right in front of his eyes just
before she was going to kill him…and killed herself instead.

She felt
her fingers running across the spirals on a notebook on her desk. The texture
felt like Scott’s arrow scar. The image of Scott’s naked body tied to that
dungeon bed with her sister torturing him was too much for her. She didn’t want
to be mad at Scott, but she didn’t want him to be killed either. The tears were
coming and she was glad she was alone.

Even
with all the education she received at Harvard and training at the FBI academy,
her gut told her that she had something to fear.

She
pulled the small compact from her purse and touched at her makeup. Her
complexion had a slight rose tint to it and she’s learned how to wear just the
right amount of makeup. It’s obvious that she is more attractive than she gives
herself credit for…she can tell by Scott’s reaction that he likes what he sees.
It’s also very obvious he likes what he sees when she’s without clothes.
There’s more than the arrow pointing.

Those
thoughts put a smile on her face and her blue eyes seemed to brighten just like
Scott’s. Even though she didn’t doctor her nails this morning they were in
perfect condition. That’s because she resisted Scott’s attention last night. It
was hard to do and she could tell by the slight pressure against her bare bum
that he needed her. It reminded her of their time at the cabin when he didn’t
make love to her, but his body was telling a totally different scenario.

She
thought of Scott’s scar and her first acknowledgement which she referred to as a
road sign pointing to Passion Street. One light nail scratch across the arrow
was all it took.

She
hoped Scott would be at her apartment tonight, as she really needed to make up
for last night, but she knew better.

 

*.*.*

 

She
realized she needed to get to work soon or she would be headed to either the
phone to call Scott or to find him. She unlocked her file cabinet and pulled
out the large file titled
Missing Citizens - Bermuda.

Although
they were successful finding Scott and the other captives, there were three
women and one man still missing. The consolidated investigations led them to
find the people involved with the sale of the expensive yachts. However, there
was still a dead end as to where the four missing people on one of those yachts
disappeared to.

The
investigation now centers on Aruba and part of Venezuela. There’s the distinct
possibility the women were kidnapped and are now part of white-slave trade.
However, they have no proof, only some witnesses that think they saw women
being put ashore off a vessel thought to be part of a pirate ring operating in
and around the Caribbean. The vicious nature of those involved caused people to
ignore what might look like suspicious activity and to keep it to themselves.

She
pulled pictures out of the folder and looked at the women. They were all young
and attractive and would not have anticipated what they were walking into. The
last confirmed report they had was when they took on provisions in Bermuda aboard the yacht “Import-ant” owned by one of the kidnapped but rescued men.

It was
an easier scenario to grasp…women being kept for sex…than her sister keeping
men for the same purpose. However, she did, and was indeed successful for
almost two years. Fortunately, Scott wasn’t her slave for that long. When she
questioned him about what happened during his captivity, he danced around the
details. Judging from what she knows and can see on his body, he suffered more
than just the physical aspects of his captivity.

If
Scott isn’t there tonight she’s going to really miss him.
It has been very easy to get a sound night’s sleep after
hours of love making. She’s going to really miss the beat of his heart against
her back. She caught herself running her fingers along the spiral.

She got
up to make a cup of coffee, but noticed her excitement showing plainly against
Scott’s white shirt.
See Scott, even when you’re not right with me, you can
still get me going. If you were really a detective you would know that.

The
phone’s sharp ring made her jump.

“I heard
you were in. Something’s happened. Can you come up to my office?”

 

*.*.*

 

She
didn’t know her boss was in this morning. It must be something really important
if he’s in on a holiday. She loosened her blouse but realized that wasn’t going
to help the situation and just let it hang outside her jeans. She knew Scott
would like that picture and hoped her boss was focused on business this
morning.

“Come in
Mercedes and have a seat.” Even though they were almost alone in the building
he got up and closed the door.

“Good morning
Mercedes…I’m glad you’re in. I would have been calling you anyway. I just
received a telegram from our embassy in Venezuela that a woman believed to be
one of the missing women from Bermuda was found murdered.”

“Any
other details?”

“She was
found with her hands tied behind her back, nude and obviously tortured. She was
killed by a gunshot to the back of the head. As best they can tell without any
identification it is Paula Scott’s body. I’m trying to get dental records now,
but I’m running into difficulty due to the holiday.”

He stood
and went to his blackboard. He wrote her name on the board. “Mercedes, if this
is indeed one of the Scott sisters, this would confirm the earlier reports of
the women winding up in Venezuela. Her condition might also bring credence to
the notion that there’s indeed a slave trade scenario. My concern is that with
one of the women turning up murdered in this fashion, we might not have much
time to find the others.”

“I know
what’s coming next.”

“I’m
sure you do. You and I, along with Ralph, need to jump on the next available
plane. I’m arranging tickets now, so by the time you pack and get to the
airport we’ll have what we need. We’ll be meeting with Venezuelan authorities,
but the communication I received is that they do not want us anywhere near
their
investigation. My hope is that they see you and change their mind. I’m sorry to
say that, but those Latin men don’t necessarily think with their heads…if you
know what I mean.”

“I have
the folder on my desk so I will take it and head home to pack.” She looked at
him, and he looked like he wanted to say something more.”

“If I
might, what you have on will work just fine.”

She
could feel her face flushing. “I guess that’s a compliment, but I’ll pack some
other things that might be also appropriate.”

“Good.
One other thing…are you and Ralph going to be okay working closely together
again?”

She
studied him for a moment before answering. “I can handle him okay as long as
he’s focused on the case and not on my pants.”

“That is
exactly why I asked the question. I can’t afford not to have both of you with
me, but I also can’t afford to have you both together without me. He was
noticeably out of control in Bermuda, and if it wasn’t for your support, he
would have been written up.”

“Duly
noted, and I will be able to handle him.” She got up quickly and headed to the
door.

“Mercedes…”
She stopped and turned. “You are an amazing agent, and we benefit from your
expertise.” He paused. “However, it’s plain to see how Ralph could get himself
in trouble.”

The
comment caught her off guard. She smiled. “I thank you for both compliments.
I’ll see you at Logan in about two hours. Happy Independence Day…sir.”

“Yeah,
so much for a long holiday weekend.”

BOOK: Fragrance of Revenge
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