The Lethal Encounter

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Authors: Amy Alexander

BOOK: The Lethal Encounter
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THE LETHAL ENCOUNTER

 

When Katie McGovern finally
put her heavy briefcase down on the immaculately presented king size bed, she
realised how tired she actually was. She raised her hands above her head and
stretched, arching her back to try and relieve some of the tension that had
built up over three days of intense meetings with her new client. She bent
sideways and rolled her head around, feeling the knot of pressure just beneath
her shoulder blades. God, she could do with a good massage. Maybe she should
treat herself at that tranquil looking spa downstairs – now that would be a
good way to start the evening. She shrugged off her jacket and placed it on the
chair and then, out of habit more than anything else, switched on the TV using
the remote control beside the bed.

 

Flicking through the channels
she settled on MTV, pausing for a moment to look at the video currently
playing, before moving over to the large windows. Turning the latch, and
pushing open the doors, she stepped out onto the small balcony and leant on the
iron balustrade.

 

As always, the sight that
greeted her filled her with an almost absurd sense of happiness. The bay of Cannes was stretched out in front of her and the bustling Croissette was starting to
fill up with evening traffic. This was one of her favourite views in Europe (not that she knew that many) and it never failed to fill her with a sense of absurd
hope and happiness. She scanned the sea, noticing that the large cruise liner
that had moored there overnight had left with its load of American tourists and
its place had been taken by a couple of luxury boats of the Russian oligarch
variety. She could just make out the bustle of activity on their decks as the
passengers no doubt supped expensive cocktails prior to boarding their landing
craft for another lavish night out in one of Cannes' many expensive restaurants
and then later in the Palm Casino.

 

She switched her attention to
the beaches, with their colourful placards announcing the rows of beachside
restaurants. She could see the remaining people, still lounging on their comfy
beds and soaking up the last rays of the Mediterranean sun as it slowly slipped
down towards the hills to the west of Cannes. There was already a number of
mainly older people studying the menu boards and discussing the merits of
moules marinières and steak tartare. Kate felt her stomach tighten and she
suddenly realised that she had not eaten since breakfast. Her taste buds
twitched in anticipation and she turned to go back into the room. A quick glance
at her watch showed she had ample time to shower and dress before she, too,
joined the throng milling to and fro across the road.

 

She reached for the buttons
on the side of her skirt and slid the garment off, walking across the room to
deposit her ear rings and necklace on the bedside table as she did so. Her
shirt followed and, still in her underwear, she walked into the bathroom. The
luxuriously appointed room with its huge bath and walk in shower suited Katie's
tastes and, as she reached in to turn on the water, she noted with appreciation
that the small lotion bottles had been lovingly refilled by room service
earlier.

 

She turned to the mirror and
removed her lingerie, stopping only momentarily to check out her reflection.
Due to her travels, she had not managed to exercise for several days and, in
those circumstances, she always felt as though her whole body was sagging and
droopy. Turning sideways, she sucked in her stomach and straightened her back,
shaking her medium long dark brown hair behind her. She noted with no small
sense of satisfaction that her breasts still remained perky, with the small
brown nipples pointing reassuringly upwards.

 

Katie smiled to herself when
she remembered how she had wished her breasts were larger growing up in that
small provincial town in the Midlands where the size of a girl's boobs seemed
to be the measure of her personality and attractiveness. How times and age change
perceptions because Katie was now definitely glad that her medium sized breasts
were just that, rather than the larger variety that would just be starting
their journey south.

 

She turned to walk into the
steaming shower and immediately felt the cascade of water surround her. She
swivelled her face into the flow and rubbed her eyes before reaching out for
the bottle of shower lotion, unscrewing the top and tipping a large amount onto
the palm of her hand. Slowly she rubbed the mixture into her stomach and the
rest of her body before turning to let the water play on her aching
back.  

 

God that felt good! If there
was one thing that Katie loved when travelling, it was to spend many hours
under a boiling shower. The time she had spent hunched at that damn conference
room table seemed to melt away as her brain cleared and her muscles relaxed.
She turned this way and that, enjoying the feel of the water pounding down over
her shoulders and body. She washed off the last of the soap and, regretfully,
turned the taps off and stepped out of the shower cubicle. She reached for one
of the big fluffy towels and pulled it towards her, gently patting her body
dry. The steam from the shower had misted up the bathroom mirror and so she
opened the door and moved into the room, walking once again towards the balcony
door. Aware that she was naked and not particularly wanting to draw attention
to herself (although that was not really possible unless there was an eagle
eyed peeping tom on one of the bobbing yachts in the harbour), she wound the
towel around her body and knotted it above her breasts.

 

Turning back to open the
wardrobe door, she surveyed her rapidly dwindling array of clothes and pulled
out her last remaining blouse before laying it on the bed. She would wear that
together with her jeans and a pair of older pumps.....the latter may not be too
fashionable but she knew they were comfortable and tonight was about her, not
about trying to impress someone else. Turning once again, she went to the chest
of drawers to select underwear that joined the blouse on the bed.

 

At that moment her phone rang
and she went to retrieve it from her bag that was lying on the small desk next
to the TV. She picked it up and checked the caller ID before putting the device
up to her ear with a smile

 

“Mum, hi,” she said.

 

“Katie dear, where are you?”
said her mother, “only your dad and I want to know when we are next going to
see you.”

 

“Oh mum.....I'm in France at the moment but will be back tomorrow. Why don't we make a date for the weekend?”

 

“What on earth are you doing
in France?” replied Katie's mother. “Another holiday, I suppose.”

 

Katie sighed. Her parents had
never really got to grips with their young daughter flying around the world -
visiting places that neither of them had ever been to, or were likely to do so.

 

“No mum, I'm here for work…..meeting
new customers, things like that.”

 

“Work? In France? Good gracious me,” her mother retorted. “Well anyway, Dad sends his love and give us a ring
when you get back so we can arrange things.”

 

“Will do…..love you,” said
Katie before realising that the call had already been terminated. She pressed
the red button on her mobile and stared momentarily at it before dropping it
onto the bed. It would be good to get out of London for a day or so. Her
parents had retired to a pretty cottage just outside Tunbridge Wells and the
thought of some gentle walks and home cooking appealed hugely. She loved her
parents dearly and, whilst she could never move back to actually live with them,
sometimes the pressure of being their only child meant that she always made
time to visit them whenever possible.

 

Katie tugged the towel off
and went back into the bathroom to retrieve some body lotion from the selection
of small bottles by the sink. Unscrewing the cap she tipped some contents onto
her hand and started to rub it in to her legs and arms. As she smoothed the
cream into her skin her thoughts turned to her day. She felt that the four days
of meetings had gone well with her new client who was based just along the
coast from Cannes. She looked forward to implementing the plans she had presented
to them and they had finally agreed to after many months of negotiation. As a
sales executive for the big computer software Shire Electronics, she knew that
securing the initial contract was only the start of a very long process that
involved a multitude of other people in her organisation. Still, she felt
pretty pleased with what she had achieved on this trip and knew that her
immediate boss would be delighted.

 

Katie did not perceive
herself as a particularly ambitious person.....sure she liked the money and
prestige the job gave her, but she knew in her heart of hearts that she just
did not have the inner drive that drove some women (and most men) to the very
tops of organisations and the pinnacles of financial success. Whilst she worked
extremely hard, Katie also liked her relaxation time and was not addicted to
her Blackberry, unlike some of her colleagues who could never turn their PDAs
off - even when they got home. In truth, she knew that she yearned something
else in her life, although she had yet to actually understand what that
actually was.

 

With a little sigh, she
replaced the top on the lotion bottle and turned to the mirror to apply some
light make up. A touch of powder, some mascara and lipstick and she was done,
before returning to the bedroom. Reaching for her underwear, she slipped it on
and then finished dressing as her stomach gave another growl of hunger. She
quickly flung her phone into her small bag, checked she had her purse and room
key and, with a final look round the room, she left.

 

The grand, but slightly
aging, lobby was bustling with people as she got out of the lift and made her
way over to the concierge's desk to drop her key off. The man behind the desk
smiled genially at her and Katie smiled back, quite liking the look of the
young Frenchman.

 

“Merci, Madame,” he said,
“have a good evening.”

 

“Merci,” responded Katie as
she turned to walk out of the hotel onto the bustling Croissette.

 

The air was still warm,
despite the sun setting serenely down behind the hills and casting its pink
haze across the sea. Katie crossed dual carriageway at the nearby crossing,
carefully avoiding a manic motorbike that screamed at top speed along the road,
and walked up onto the long promenade that stretched the length of the Cannes seafront. She stopped for a moment, debating which direction she should take,
before making up her mind and turning left towards Le Plage Bleu, one of her
favourite eating places.

 

She took a deep breath of humid,
salty air as it gently blew in off the sea - the very act of doing so
re-energising her as she side-stepped out of the way of an enthusiastic roller
blader. She arrived at the restaurant and stopped for a moment to study the
menu that had been placed at the top of the steps leading down to the tables.
Several things caught her eye and, her mind made up, she walked purposefully
down the stairs, her eyes on the lookout for a waiter to greet her.

 

Katie travelled a lot but she
still had not got used to eating out alone. Quite often, when she was not out
with clients, she resorted to room service at the hotel, but tonight she was
determined to make the most of her last night in Cannes. She paused at the
entrance to the restaurant and, with her head held high, attracted the
attention of the Maitre D'.

 

“Bonsoir Madame,” he said
with a welcoming smile. “Une table pour une personne?”

 

“Oui, merci,” responded
Katie, before following the man to a perfect table on the far side of the
dining area, right next to the beach with its colourful umbrellas and sun beds
still out. He pulled the chair from under the table and settled her into the
seat before picking up the serviette, shaking it out and laying it across her
lap.

 

“Le menu. Voulez-vous boire
un verre?”

 

“Un verre de champagne, s'il
vous plait,” said Katie, appreciating the attention as she opened the large
menu on the table in front of her.

 

As the Maitre D’ disappeared
into the back of the restaurant, Katie relaxed in her chair and observed the
beach. The attendant was half way along the line of sun beds, systematically
piling the mattresses up onto his muscular shoulder. Several of the beds in his
path were still occupied with people enjoying the hazy heat of the early
evening. Despite the oncoming dusk, it was still wonderfully warm and the
gentle breeze that blew in from the sea brought with it both additional relief
from the sultry heat and a great feeling of nostalgia for Katie. She had spent
the first ten years of her life holidaying in the South of France – in a small
secluded campsite set back in the hills – and she still vividly remembered the
evenings with her parents and friends sitting together chatting and laughing.
For some reason the remembrances made her feel sad and she couldn't understand
why. Perhaps it was the passing of time and the growing importance of life as
it gradually slipped by.

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