Assassin Affairs (2 page)

“Oh,
I can't see that happening,” he said.

“I
looked through your desk to see if there might be anything
pertinent,” said the captain. “You really need to get
organized one of these days, Danvers. You're the biggest slob I know.
You got anything you're keeping at home?”

“Um,
no. Why would I do that?”

“Because
you're obsessed and obsessed people do weird things.”

“I am
not obsessed.”

“Rumor
has it you had her photo enlarged. Where is it? I bet it's on your
wall at home,” she challenged. “That's obsessed, kid.”

After he
returned home for the night, Danny dug the old beer bottle out from
where he'd stashed it. He didn't know why he'd kept it, but he had.
As he gave it the once-over, he noticed that not only was there the
remnant of some lipstick, there was also a fingerprint smudge. He set
it aside, drank a few beers of his own, and climbed into bed.

It was
shortly before dawn when something pressing against his neck awoke
him.

“Keep
quiet, honey,” a soft, female voice whispered.

Groggy and
unable to see much in the darkened bedroom, he asked “Who are
you? What do you want? I don't have anything worth stealing.”

“That's
debatable, young sir. I wasn't planning on waking you, but there's
just too much stuff sitting out here in the open to ignore. I need to
find out what else you may have hidden away.”

“Oh
my God! You're her!” he exclaimed as he tried to sit up.

“Easy,
cowboy,” she said, pushing the pistol more firmly against his
neck. “This gun has a silencer on it, so no one will hear if I
decide to shoot you, and don't think for a second that I won't!”

“Okay,
okay, please don't shoot me, miss.”

“First,
tell me what's with that large photo of me on your bedroom wall.”

“The
eyes.”

“What?”

“Your
eyes in the photo; I have trouble taking mine off them. They seem so
cold, but I told my boss I bet they were warm at one time.”

She held up
the bagged beer bottle. “What's with this?”

“Take
it. No one else knows about it,” he said with a nervous tremble
in his voice.

“Get
up!” she ordered.

“I'm
not wearing any clothes, miss.”

She once
again pressed the silencer more firmly against his throat. “Never
again make me repeat myself,” she whispered threateningly.
“Get! Up!”

The young
investigator pushed aside his covers and slowly rose to his feet.
Renée switched on the bedroom light. “Now show me where
you've hidden the other evidence,” she requested, admiring his
well-toned physique with a wry smirk.

“There's
isn't anything else, here or at the office. I'd tell you if there
were, Renée.”

The naked
detective spent the next hour tossing his apartment to prove it while
she held him at gunpoint. They spoke as he rummaged the place.

“So
what's a nice girl like you doing with an occupation like this?”

“Not
that it's any of your business, but I was almost engaged at one time.
My lover Chris was a smuggler who pissed off the wrong group and was
tortured and killed by a gun cartel of ten people. So far, I've
caught-up to seven and it ended badly for them.”

“Revenge
is a dish best served cold,” he said.

“Less
talk, more searching. You sure fit the stereotype of a small-town
cop. I found your gun on the dresser and it wasn't even loaded. There
aren't even any bullets that I could find, but I bet you have one in
a pocket somewhere,” she said mockingly.

“You're
predictable, you know. That can be a hazard in your line of work. My
boss told me that you would be coming.”

“I
bet that was her outside.”

“What?!”

“Someone
was staking out your place; dirty blonde, fortyish, medium build,
driving a black SUV. I had to take her out.”

“You
killed her?!”

“No,
but she'll be waking up with a headache.”

“It
won't take long for those cartel members to find you now that your
identity has surfaced. I'm sure they're as tied into the NYPD as you
are.”

“You
shouldn’t be worrying about me, handsome. You're the one whose
life is most in danger at the moment. Besides, I have friends who
watch out for me. I do a lot of contract work for them on the side.
It's expensive living in Manhattan and a girl's gotta make ends meet.
What about photos? Where are the pictures taken at the crime scene?”

“I
never had those. The department photographer kept 'em until your
trail crossed statelines and the FBI took our files.”

“Wasn't
this bottle in the photos? Won't questions be asked of its
whereabouts?”

“I
took it before the photographer got there.”

“Why?”

“I
dunno exactly, but after I saw that photo of you, I knew I had to get
to know you. You should consider relocating here with me. Maybe I
could help you with your quest. This is the last place anyone would
consider looking for you.”

“Forget
about it. You're so not my type. My guy will be well-dressed and a
man of action. He'll be a Versace and Gucci kind of guy, not an
uncouth yokel like you.”

“You're
good with a gun, and word has it good at daring escapes. What else
can you do?” Danny asked.

“Enough
talk. You clearly don't have anything else. I need to decide what to
do with you before I go. No one else has ever had a photo of me
hanging on their wall before, so maybe I'll show mercy.”

“You
won't kill me. It's in your eyes. They were cold and mean at first;
now they're warm and inviting. You're more apt to kiss me than kill
me.”

“You
live in a fantasy world. You've been naked in your bedroom with your
fantasy-girl for an hour, with no sign of being happy to see me.
What's a girl to think? Show me some happiness before I go and maybe
I'll let you live.”

“Happiness?”
He glared at her. “Put the gun on the bed, naughty-girl. I'm
not exactly the yokel I appear to be.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning
I'm smart enough to have already gotten a DNA profile from your
lipstick, sweetheart. I have it in a safe place, with instructions
it's to be sent to the FBI in the event of my premature death. You
need to be sure I live a long life.”

This
revelation caught Renée off guard. “Oh, that is such
bullshit.”

“I'm
just sayin'....”

He followed
her as she backed toward the front door, pistol aimed at his head.

“Anything
else I might want to know?” she inquired.

“Maybe.
Would you want to know that I was in the Special Forces before I came
here? I only appear the incompetent boob because I lack inspiration.
You could give me that.”

“Move
back; you're too close,” she said with the first hint of
anxiety in her voice. “This thing has a hair-trigger!”

The
detective lurched at her, grabbing the pistol from her hand and
flattening her on the floor. She wriggled in vain under his two
hundred pound frame.

“So
what happens now, tough guy? Are you going to arrest me?”

“No.”

“So
you're going to force yourself on me then?”

“No.
I'm not one to take advantage of a woman like that,” he said as
he rose to his feet. Looking down at her shapely figure, he admitted,
“Tempting though.” Danny released the clip from the gun's
housing and it fell to the floor, full of bullets. He attempted to
eject the round in the chamber, but it was already empty and the
safety had been on. “I guess you weren't too serious about
shooting me,” he said with a smirk.

Danny
stepped back a few feet and dropped the empty pistol onto the floor,
right in between them and next to the full clip. They both stared at
it for a moment and then he said, “I'm going back into the
bedroom to put on some clothes.”

A few
moments later, she followed him into the room. He knew she was
standing behind him as he heard the sound of the clip being
reinserted; then he clearly heard a round being chambered. He ignored
it and continued dressing.

“You're
either a fool or very clever,” she said.

“Perhaps
a bit of both. If you shoot, don't miss. These walls are thin and I'd
hate for an innocent neighbor to be killed.”

Renée
clicked on the safety and threw the pistol onto the bed.

“Good
choice,” he said.

Suddenly,
they were no longer alone as Captain Mahoney broke into the room.

“Put
your hands up!” she shouted at Renée.

The captain
noticed the gun on the bed and asked, “What's going on here?”

“I'm
recruiting her for the Witness Protection Program, Captain.”

“I
always knew you were a lunatic, Danny,” she replied.

“She's
a victim of circumstances, boss. Let her hide out here with us for
awhile.”

“I
can't go along with that, Danvers.” Captain Mahoney threw a
pair of handcuffs onto the floor.

“Put
those on, honey,” she ordered, her finger quivering on the
trigger.

The pair of
officers looked on as Renée leaned toward the restraints. The
lean unexpectedly turned into a cartwheel and she quickly snatched
the pistol from the startled captain's grasp, placing the weapon at
her throat.

The whine
of a distant police siren approaching could now be heard.

“Oh
Danny, and just as things were getting so warm and fuzzy between us.
It seems we have ourselves a predicament,” she said as she
looked up at him and placed the cuffs on his boss.

“I
underestimated you, Renée,” he confessed. “That
won't happen again.”

Their eyes
locked. It was only for seconds, but the moment seemed frozen in
time. Earlier, she had noticed a pocket sized digital camera on his
bureau. Ignoring the siren, she casually retrieved it and, while
keeping the captain's gun aimed at him for the picture and gambling
that he hadn't changed his mind about not arresting her due to his
captain's arrival, cozied up alongside, playfully crossed her eyes
for the camera, and snapped a shot of them together.

“Now
you'll have a second photo to remember me by,” she said.

“I've
never met anyone anywhere close to being like you,” he said in
dismay.

“And
you said I was predictable!” she laughed.

Just then
the sound of car doors slamming could be heard out front. She
retrieved her weapon, flashlight, the bagged beer bottle, quickly
kissed him on the cheek, and then disappeared out the bedroom window
into the predawn night. The captain lay stunned and cuffed on the
floor. Danny just shook his head in disbelief at the entire episode.

The next
few weeks passed uneventfully. Captain Mahoney had tried to hold him
responsible for the escape, but his stance was that he had been in
the process of getting Renée to surrender when she had charged
in and ruined it. It was therefore the captain’s fault. His new
photo of him and Renée was now enlarged and proudly displayed
on his living room wall.

Detective
Danvers toyed with the thought of going to Manhattan to find her, but
determined that it would be an exercise in futility as she surely
would have relocated by now. He tried to find her phone number. There
was no listing. He began routinely watching for relevant items in the
news. There were none. She had no outstanding arrest warrants, which
he found interesting.

He began
researching her prior victims and eventually determined her remaining
three targets. One of them was named José Fuentes and he had a
prior arrest in Danny's hometown of Sarasota, Florida, where the
detective's folks still lived. The man had been taken in for assault
and battery, rape, and suspicion of murder, but witnesses had always
turned up missing or dead, and there had never been any convictions.

Danny's
parents had recently downsized and were residing in a small condo on
the city's popular Siesta Beach. With the holidays approaching, and
several weeks of vacation time due him, he decided this would be a
good year for a Christmas visit.

After
spending some family time with his parents and getting settled into
the guest room, he headed downtown. The SPD files led him to an
address. He staked it out for a few hours one afternoon, then spent
the evening on the beach nursing a mojito and enjoying the beautiful
sunset.

Danny
returned to the suspect's residence again that night and then again
every night for a week. A few people came and went, but nothing
caught his attention until one night, a few hours after midnight,
when he noticed a dark figure approach. It could be Renée, he
thought. He moved in closer for a better view and watched as the
person slipped in through a back window. Danny worked his way nearer
to the residence and peered into the house to see what he could
observe. The intruder was the right height and build to possibly be
her.

Suddenly he
could hear the sounds of a scuffle. Danny sensed she had been
overconfident due to her earlier string of successes and had gotten
into trouble. He forced his way inside. Two people were in a
life-or-death struggle. He was certain it was Renée and José.
As he moved closer to assist her, an older man jumped him from
behind.

“I've
got your back, hijo,” he shouted out as he threw Danny to the
floor.

While Danny
wrestled with the older fellow, he saw José pull a knife on
his new friend. She appeared to be in over her head as the man yanked
off her hood and began slashing her clothes. He stabbed her in the
shoulder; she yelled out in agony. Danny was too preoccupied to help
her.

“Save
a piece for me, José,” shouted the man as he and Danny
exchanged punches.

José
shredded her top, then pulled off its remnants and knocked her to the
floor. He began dragging her around by the cuffs of her pant legs.
The pants came off and he threw them across the room. Renée
was semi-conscious and her attacker could have gone to assist his
evil cousin. Instead, he pulled off his trousers and climbed on top
of her. Danny gained the upper hand in his own battle and snapped the
second man's neck. José was so busy trying to rape his victim,
he never saw Danny coming. He was dead a moment later. With the
familiar wail of an approaching siren in the distance, Danny scooped
her up into his arms and carried her out into the night, wearing only
her latex gloves.