Justifiable Homicide: A Political Thriller (Robert Paige Thrillers Book 1) (27 page)

Eventually, it was time to move on.

Sveta lifted her head off his shoulder. “Let’s walk some more.”

They stood up and resumed their stroll. As they exited the park they turned left, toward the 700 Building. It was hot and they were parched. Sveta suggested a solution.

“Robert, let’s go back to my place. I’ll make some iced tea.”

“Sounds good to me.” Actually, Paige had been thinking of suggesting they go to one of the restaurants or cafes on Collins Avenue for a cold drink, but hesitated to make the suggestion because it would have entailed additional time walking in the broiling sun.

As they walked through the front entrance, Milla, the Haitian desk clerk, had just come on duty. She stood behind the front desk unpacking her things. Apparently, she was working both the afternoon and evening shifts that day.

“Hello Miss Svetlana. Mr. Robert. It’s a hot one today, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.” He liked Milla. She always seemed cheerful, even though she didn’t have much to be cheerful about. She earned just above minimum wage, raising two kids with a husband who mostly ignored her, living in a country where she had to function in English, her third language, after Creole and French, with little prospect of improving her lot much in the future. Still, she was much better off in America than Haiti, and she knew it. She was happy to be here.

A lot of Americans complain about immigrants, speaking funny languages and taking away their jobs, but most of them are hard workers. They have to be to survive. They’re willing to leave their homeland and family and take jobs that Americans don’t want, and they don’t just take, they also contribute to society. As economist Peter Bauer used to say, “Immigrants not only have a mouth; they also have two hands.”

Watching Milla at work caused Paige to reflect on a comment his undergraduate economics professor, Bill Dargan, made in class one day. “They should pass a law that requires people to leave after three generations. By then, they become soft and lazy. If we let in more immigrants, our growth rate would increase because they work harder than the people whose ancestors have been here for a few generations.”

The class of impressionable Gannon University freshmen and sophomores were shocked by his statement at the time, but now Paige could understand exactly what he meant by it. If everyone worked as hard as Milla, the American rate of economic growth would be higher.

Paige and Sveta walked into the elevator and started to hug, swaying back and forth slightly and caressing each other’s fingertips. Paige bent forward and nuzzled her neck. He breathed in her scent. Her perfume, mixed with her perspiration aroused his senses. As the elevator approached her floor, Sveta squeezed his hand, gazed into his eyes and smiled. Maybe she was thinking about giving him more than just iced tea.

They arrived at the door to her condo. As Sveta dug into her purse for her keys, Paige noticed a small camera above the door of the apartment across the corridor. It looked just like the camera across the hall from his apartment. It aimed directly at her door. He briefly thought about pointing it out to her, then decided against it. She didn’t know anything about his part-time CIA job. He didn’t want her to know she was being monitored, probably by Mossad. She had come from a totalitarian state where everyone watched everyone else. Informing her of the camera would do much more than just spoil the moment.

Her condo was always spotless, more or less. She liked to keep a clean place, in contrast to Paige’s condo, which varied between being messy and very messy. His was the epitome of “the bachelor pad.” Mail and open take-out containers everywhere. He usually decided to clean the kitchen when the counter tops started getting sticky. Sometimes he would borrow George and Florence’s maid for an hour or two. They lived one floor below him and emigrated from Brooklyn a few decades ago.

Sveta visited his condo occasionally, but she preferred her place. Whenever she visited him she got the urge to clean, and she didn’t want to do any cleaning when she was with him.

The tea had been chilling in the fridge for hours. She usually kept a quart or two on hand so she would have something cold to quench her thirst when she came home. She grabbed a bright yellow lemon, cut it in half, then squeezed both halves into the pitcher and stirred.

While she freshened up the drink, Paige retrieved the glasses. The galley kitchen was cramped. With the glasses stored in the cabinet directly in front of Sveta, brushing up against her was unavoidable, but she didn’t mind, as evidenced by the smile she gave him as he did it. She filled one of the glasses and gave it to him. He took it and gazed into her eyes as he took a sip. She gazed back. The fragrance of the lemon was reinvigorating and the cool liquid alleviated the dryness in his mouth.

She motioned to one of the chairs in the kitchen. “Robert, why don’t you have a seat?” Although she had a nice, large living room, they didn’t spend much time in it. Their interludes were usually split between the kitchen and the bedroom. She turned on the sound system and selected “So Much To Give” by Lydia Canaan. It was one of her favorite Lydia Canaan songs.

The couple sipped their refreshments for a few minutes, all the while engaging in small talk and playing footsie under the table.

“Robert, I’m feeling a little icky from walking in the heat. I’d like to take a shower. Care to join me? I could really use some help washing my back.”

He grinned. “Well, I was always taught to help a woman in distress.” She smiled at him, turned, and led him to the master suite.

Once in the bedroom, she spun around and looked up at him. Standing on her tip-toes, Sveta and Robert shared a soft kiss, then continued on to the master bath. The room was a sizable space, yet comfortable. It looked like the kind of master bath one would see in magazines that showcase the most luxurious resorts and spas from around the world. She had it custom made shortly after buying her condo as a present to herself, and as a way to permanently celebrate her escape from the Soviet Union.

The décor provided a tranquil setting which included a large, stand-alone shower, surrounded by blue-gray slate tile. Shampoos and body wash sat on top of a built-in sill in the back of the stall. Sveta turned on the shower faucet and water began to sprinkle down like rain. Paige’s eyes scanned his Russian beauty before landing on the front of her white blouse. One by one, he unfastened each pearl button. After reaching the last in the row, he slowly took the silky garment down her right side and kissed the exposed skin. His lips traveled up and down her smooth neck. It wasn’t long before she assisted in
his
disrobing.

The two kissed tenderly and embraced while waiting for the water to heat up. Robert again inhaled her scent. Light, sweet flowers with a hint of vanilla. She always smelled great.

Once the water reached a good temperature, they stepped into the shower and found some soap. Each took a turn lathering up the other. First, Sveta ran her hands over Robert’s back, tracing his spine and massaging him lightly. Next, they faced one another. She rubbed his chest as he looked into her clear green eyes.

Wrapping his arms around her, he washed her back. She lifted her arms toward the ceiling and reversed her position, now facing away from Robert. As he kissed her creamy shoulders and long, delicate neck, she let her hands fall onto his head and twisted her fingers around in his hair. Then he started caressing her chest with soft smooth strokes and well placed pinches as he rhythmically pulled her body closer to his.

Robert continued to hold her tighter as he moved his right hand lower and lower, until he reached her sweet spot. Tenderly, he slid his fingers inside of her and set off a chain reaction of sighs and moans. After allowing her a few minutes to enjoy his caring touch, he decided to turn it up a notch.

He pinned her against the wall and gyrated against her as he continued to manually explore her. The feel of the cold slate against her body gave her goose bumps, while the hot, wet steam of the water warmed her inner core, heightening her pleasure. Each time she squeezed his hand, he nudged her closer and closer to the back of the shower. When he finally got her where he wanted her, he helped her assume a bent over position using that well placed shelf feature. Decorative
and
functional. With his left hand sliding smoothly up her back, from the crack of her ass up to the nape of her neck, he removed his fingers and replaced them with his member, completely joining the two of them as one.

It was what she was waiting for. The whole day she had fanaticized about this. It was one of their favorite positions. He surrounded her hips with his hands and pulled her in tighter, against his lower body. She took him in all the way. He made her so freakin’ hot! They continued until they both reached their peak of excitement, culminating in an explosion of their genitals.

After a moment of recuperation, he withdrew and she turned to face him. They held each other and she kissed his chest while he smoothed his hands over her back. They let the water rush over them as if caught under a waterfall in the far-off jungle rain forest. After a couple minutes, he kissed her and motioned to leave the shower.

“You go ahead, Robert. I’m going to stay in a little longer.”

“Okay.”

Paige left the shower and dried himself off. He dropped the towel onto the floor toward the corner of the room and walked over to the toilet. Not thinking to close the door to the separate water closet, he relieved himself, then continued on to the bedroom.

A couple hours later Paige awoke to find Sveta snuggled up to him with her hand resting on his chest. He tried to get up without disturbing her, but she was a light sleeper and opened her eyes the moment he slid to the edge of the bed.

Paige got dressed and Sveta put on a black and red embroidered silk robe she received as a gift from a friend who travelled to China. After finishing another helping of iced tea, Sveta walked Paige to the door. He kissed her softly, turned and walked down the hallway. He headed toward the elevator, not forgetting about the camera across from Sveta’s. He wanted to remove it, but would have to wait until Sveta closed her door. She thought he had a nice butt and enjoyed watching him walk away. After ten or so paces, he heard the click of her lock.

He turned around, walked back and quietly removed the camera. He put it in his pocket and walked toward the elevator. After he pushed the button and waited for the elevator to arrive, he took the camera out of his pocket, removed the chip, placed the camera on the floor and stepped on it. He could hear it go crunch. He picked it up and tossed it into the waste container by the elevator.

He suspected Mossad had planted it and wondered why they were still interested in him. Since it was Saturday, he would have to wait until Monday to pay a visit to Wellington’s office.

As he walked through the lobby he took out his cell phone and called Wellington to schedule an appointment. Milla sat at the front desk, chatting on the phone, too busy to notice him. He thought she looked cute that day. Her smile revealed a slight gap between her two front teeth. She was always smiling. That’s one of the things he liked about her.

“Hello, John? This is Bob Paige.”

“Hi Bob. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call? Did you get tired of reading financial statements?”

“Yeah, I had to take a break, and since talking to you is only slightly less exciting than reading financial statements, I thought I’d give you a call.”

“Ouch! That hurt, Bob. I thought I was one of your favorite students.”

“You were, but now you’re just another former C student.”

“Ouch again! You’re really on a roll. What can I do for you?”

“I need to stop by and see you on Monday. Where will you be?”

“I’ll be at the downtown office. It sounds serious.”

“Well, maybe it is and maybe it isn’t. We can decide that on Monday.”

“OK, but let’s not meet in the office. Call me on my cell phone when you arrive and we’ll meet in the lobby. Any time after nine-thirty will be fine.”

“OK, I’ll call around nine-thirty.”

“OK, I’ll see you then.”

Paige closed his phone and tried to put the matter out of mind, but in the back of his head he wondered whether postponing the meeting until Monday was a mistake.

The rest of the weekend was uneventful. Paige and Sveta had breakfast at Denny’s on Sunday morning. Sveta went to visit her sister. Paige worked on a manuscript he was under contract to submit to a book publisher. He thought about the camera a few times and what it might mean. He decided its presence meant Mossad hadn’t finished with him and that he should be more alert whenever he went out of the building. Did they still have a tail on him? Why did they still have an interest in him? It probably had something to do with Steinman, since that was the only company project he was involved in at the moment.

The fact that Mossad still had an interest in him led to a few spin-off ideas. Was the extent of their interest limited to a few cameras or were they also tapping his telephone and monitoring his emails? Did they plant a tracking device on his car? Was Wellington going to whack Steinman in spite of his denials, and if so, was Mossad prepared to stop the hit on Steinman, and if so, what were they willing to do to prevent it? Who else might they be tracking? Was Mossad also tracking Wellington and Steinman? They were bigger potatoes than he was. It would make sense that if they were watching him, they would also be watching Wellington and Steinman. How deeply was Rachel Karshenboym involved? Was she just spying on Steinman’s meetings, or was she assigned to do more than that?

Monday morning. Paige looked at his watch. Nearly eight-thirty. If he left his condo now it would take about an hour, more or less, to get to Wellington’s downtown office. Lots of traffic flowed in that direction at rush hour. He decided to wait fifteen minutes to give traffic some time to thin out. He used the time to check his email and reply to a few of the more urgent messages. Actually, he seldom received urgent messages, but he liked to reply to student emails as soon as he could. One of the questions on the evaluations that students filled out at the end of the semester asked if the professor responded quickly to student emails. He wanted to make sure he got positive evaluations.