Dawson's Web (15 page)

Detective Alvin Riddick was 45 years old, married, had two kids, and had been on the Los Angeles Police Department for over 15 years. He was average build, and had two outstanding features: he had bright red hair and freckles, and his nose was the size of a potato. But other than that, he was an average Joe living an ordinary life except for his occasional involvement with several strippers he had met while he was on the vice squad.

His wife overlooked his disfigured nose when they were dating and agreed to marry him in spite of it because he had a kind soul and he treated her like a queen—except when he was with the hookers, about which she knew nothing.

He was seated with his feet resting on his desk when Fred McCallister walked into his office.

“So Fred, getting ready to retire, are you? I’m jealous.”

“Of course you are. You have another 20 years to go before you can start collecting Social Security. At the rate your spending money with the strippers and keeping it from your wife, you’ll be lucky if it’s only 20 years.”

Alvin grinned. “I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed, and I have this big old honking nose, but my package is even larger. The hookers like it, but my wife not so much. If it weren’t for our two kids, I would be out of that relationship now. You know I love my wife. But sometimes a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.” He grinned, crossed his left leg over his right and leaned back, bragging.

“Enough of your bullshit, Alvin, I’m not here to talk about your infidelity. I’m here to see if you found anything out about that killing knife from China we found at Dockweiler. I interviewed one of the people you sent me information on, but I’m about to strike him off my list. He showed me the knife his wife bought him as an anniversary gift. Have you received anything else from the manufacturer? I need to see records of who else purchased that knife that go back at least two years.”  Fred was adamant.

His voice was edgy.

It was starting to grate on Alvin.

“Look, Fred. I’ve been busy working two other cases. I’ll get to it when I get to it.”

“Look, Alvin, that’s not good enough! I only have a couple of more weeks on the force. I want to close this case and will if you help me.  Get real! Get me the information. I mean it!”

Now Alvin was pissed. He took his feet off the desk and leaned forward to emphasize his point. “Look, buddy. You don’t need to get in my face about this. I’ve been busy balancing my life. You know what I mean.”

“I know exactly what you mean. You’re balancing your time with your stripper friends and your wife. This is a murder case. I won’t tolerate any more of your bullshit. Do your fucking job and get me what I need. I might let your wife know what you’re about if you don’t.” Fred didn’t really mean it, but he was sincerely trying to close this last case before retiring.

He needed help. Pressuring Alvin with the threat of revealing his secret life was his last resort.

Alvin might be able to provide it if he could get over himself and spend the time needed.

Fred continued to harp on his friend.

On hearing Fred’s threats about possible disclosure of his illicit activities to his wife and the ramifications that would have on his life, Alvin set up straight in his chair and pointed his finger at Fred. “Listen, old man, don’t you threaten me. I’m doing what I need to do to keep my life in order. I’ll get to it when I get to it.”

He then had second thoughts.

His wife would divorce him if she found out and it would cost him plenty. He had seen what other officers had gone through when their wives found out their spouses were cheating.

He wanted none of it.

He couldn’t afford it.

He softened his tone. “You’ll have your information soon. I promise. Now get the fuck outta here!”

Fred gave him the one-fingered salute and left abruptly. As he got to the door, he turned back. “You’d better have that list to me in a week or I AM going to tell your wife. I mean it, partner! Get me the list or your wife finds out who you really are. I’m dead nuts serious!”

He slammed the door as he left knowing he had made his point.

              The next day, Jeff Dawson picked up the phone and called Stephanie at her office. Although she was with a patient performing liposuction, when her receptionist announced over the intercom that he was on the phone, she interrupted the procedure and took the call.

The surgery could wait. She was interested in knowing what Jeff had to say. She was smitten with him. She knew it would be good being with him. She knew it. After a brief conversation, she agreed to meet him at Arachne at 6 PM.

Jeff arrived at King Harbor at 5:45.

Slither brain was working overtime. He had his gym bag packed and ready for service in the trunk of his car. He had every intention of using it and he had convinced himself this would be a dress rehearsal for his real target, Charlene.

He needed a release.

Stephanie would be nothing but foreplay.

              Stephanie had several other patients that day but managed to leave Beverly Hills by 4:25. She was very excited about spending quality time with Jeff and didn’t want to be late.

After Jeff had called her in the morning, she took a long lunch and bought a very expensive negligée from Macy’s, down the street from her office. It was a red camisole, with garter belts and a see through sheer thong pair of panties.

When she tried the outfit on in the store, she got wet with anticipation. Mr. Dawson would not be able to resist her.

She was sure of it.

Unbeknownst to Jeff, Stephanie had got to the boat fifteen minutes before he did.

She had already chilled the Don Perignon and had a bottle of Morgan’s spiced rum and several cokes chilling in her Subzero refrigerator. She remembered what Jeff drank from the night before and decided she would start with the rum and cokes, leading later to the champagne, her favorite.

She knew how to play the game, in spite of the fact she hadn’t been in it for a while and didn’t want to appear to be too forward, lest she might scare him off.

In her mind, he was the perfect person with whom to start her new life of pleasure. She saw the way he dressed when they met yesterday.

He had style.

He had the look.

He wasn’t a Neanderthal like her husband.

He has substance.

She has substance.

They were meant to be together.

He was also ruggedly handsome. Although he wasn’t as young as she would have liked him to be, he would still do. Hell, he would more than do.

She hoped he was as good in bed as she imagined he could be.

She went out of her way to make everything perfect for him. She wanted everything her way and to be perfect for her and for him--as it should be.

She might write him off later, but tonight was going to be her night.

She scripted it.

She was in control, or so she thought.

Later, if the sex was good, she might give up some of that control.

But right now, the night was hers.

She was a catch and she knew it.

Jeff might be a catch, but the jury was still out.

She hoped he was as good as she imagined he would be.

She would make the decision how good afterward.

She was dressed in Daisy Duke short cutoffs, which accentuated her backside and had a pullover T-shirt with an advertisement for Morgan’s rum plastered on the back. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

Promptly at 6 o’clock, she left Arachne and walked down the dock to see if Jeff had arrived.

He spotted her immediately.

She was even more stunning in the late afternoon light than he remembered her being at HBYC.

Slither brain was excited, coiled and ready.

He imagined how tightly he would put the ligatures on her arms and legs and spread-eagle her on her bed in her new yacht before playing the games he so wanted to play.

He grinned like a Cheshire cat, got out of his car and walked to the gate.

Jeff was dressed in his three-piece business suit. He specifically didn’t dress casually. He sensed Stephanie was a woman who appreciated a man in a suit, so instead of dressing down by putting on jeans and a Hawaiian shirt, he went for the full on corporate look down to and including diamond studded 24-karat gold cuff links with a matching diamond-studded tiepin.

When he arrived at the gate, they couldn’t appear to be more mismatched. He made up some bullshit line about being in meetings all day because he knew, in the back of his mind, that’s what she wanted to hear.

He was right.

Stephanie opened the gate.

“Well, mister. You look like you’re ready for a business meeting, not a night on a yacht. But I like the look. I really like the look.” She reached out, took his hand and gave him a peck on the cheek, promptly turned and led the way back to her yacht intentionally accentuating the sway in her hips as an appetizer.

He stared as she walked in front of him, his mind racing at the thought of them getting intimate.

Slither brain smiled and commented sarcastically. “Don’t give me any crap. I’ve been in meetings all day long. The $6 million deal that I did last week was about to blow up in my face, but I met with the lawyers and I salvaged it. I’ll get my $60,000 commission check tomorrow.”

Stephanie turned around as she was still walking. “Not bad for a week’s work and then added to get the upper hand, “I only made $50,000 today with a liposuction and two nose jobs.” She continued down the dock. This was going to be fun.

Jeff was easy to tease and to play.

Taken aback, Jeff jabbed. “What are you talking about a week’s work? I’ve been working on this for seven months.  This is actually a very lucrative deal for me. And I don’t appreciate your bitchiness and giving me grief about my job. I’m not a prominent surgeon like you, but I make ends meet. It’s been a slow market.” He had no intention of letting on he had a substantial trust fund that would last him until he died.

That was his secret.

Jeff knew he had to put this girl down because she was coming on way too strong. Women that come on too strong need to be put in their place.

He played the game so much better than Stephanie did.

As he predicted, Stephanie backed down.

She had never seen this kind of response from her husband, John. He was so passive and non-caring. It irked her. Jeff Dawson was a lot more of a man in so many ways than he was.

It melted her and she got involuntarily weak-kneed.

“Okay, I’m sorry this is just me trying to be me. Sorry.”

Jeff hesitated before responding.  He knew, by her apology, he had read her right where he wanted her.

He had nailed it.

He didn’t reply immediately, choosing instead to let her think he might still be aggravated. After a few seconds he added, “Okay. Apology accepted.” Then to emphasize the point he caught up with her and swatted her on the butt, hard, but not too hard. He put his arm around her waist and they continued down the dock.

Then he changed the subject. “Okay. You have this new boat. Are we going to have dinner, or should I get ready for you to take me out on a sunset cruise?

I don’t know the first thing about sailing?”

He let her get on the boat first and stared at her Daisy Dukes, which seemed painted on as she climbed aboard.

Slither brain got excited.

Logical brain put him down.

“Go to sleep,” he cautioned his reptilian counterpart. “This is going to be a long evening. I like the interaction. I’m not dealing with you right now.”

Stephanie saw him leering at her.

It was nice.

John hadn’t looked at her that way in years.

He changed the subject again. “I’m really starved. During negotiations, I missed lunch. Can we order out? Or what’s the deal?

I’m dressed in a suit. You look like you’re ready for a picnic.”

He said this to put her off balance.

It worked.

“I can get dressed up if you’d like. Ordering out is fine, but first, let’s have a drink.”

He stepped into the cockpit, and when he was aboard, she reached over and grabbed his hand and put it around her waist and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“This boat is exquisite. I’ve often thought about sailing, but sometimes I get seasick. I don’t think that will happen tonight, especially if you keep me occupied,” he replied confidently.

He meant it.

Stephanie went on and on about the boat specifications, gushing when he showed so much interests in Arachne and seemingly in her by his comments. She told him that she’d picked out the color, named the boat, got designers aboard to do the cushions and interior. She laid it on thick.

He feigned attention, drawing her into his game.

They finally ended up down in the galley.

“Can I get you a drink?” She asked.

“Sure, I’ll have a rum and coke.”

Stephanie was ecstatic. That’s what she bought. She pulled his rum out of the Subzero cooler, took the chilled crystal glass, made him his drink and handed it to him.

After his first sip, she approached him and gave him a deep passionate kiss.

“I want to make sure that my guests are happy. So, are you happy?”

This was her first, but not last, venture down the infidelity highway. She wanted things perfect.

Slither brain was dying. He wanted to cut this bitch in half and watch her bleed out.

Logical brain took over as Jeff downed the drink in two swallows and asked for another.

He knew how to control snakes.

“I’m happy. I’m very happy.” Jeff said as she stood in the galley and poured him another.  Her mouth and her eyes were beautiful. They were duplicates of his Stepmom’s same features.

He had mixed feelings.

He adored the way she looked, but his alter ego wanted her to be dead.

He glanced away hoping the alcohol would take effect and silence the reptile part of him.

Stephanie saw this momentary pause and moved closer to him to see if she could understand what was going on in his head.

She was caught off guard by his hesitation.

It troubled her.

She was normally the aggressor.

She took a passive stance.

She didn’t want to lose him, not this early in the night.

She became tentative which was so unlike her.

“Was it something I did?

Is there something wrong with the drink?”

She actually wanted to please him, which was a first.

Usually, it was the other way around, she was the queen bee and all men were her drones. This was her first time in an extramarital affair. She wanted everything to be perfect because Stephanie’s world was always perfect.

Jeff didn’t answer immediately as all the other men in her life did because of her charm.

He knew why she was questioning him. He had put her down. She had low self-esteem and he had keyed on it, cracking the porcelain veneer she hid behind by her being over-the-top confident.

He was the one in control and she liked it that way.

He knew it.

She knew it too, but wouldn’t admit to it.

Apparently, her husband was a Casper milk toast.

This might be more fun than he ever could have imagined. He was ready for an extended game tonight and would ensure slither brain stayed asleep.

Logical brain needed some fun too. He took the second drink and downed it quickly asking Stephanie for another.

“Sleep now. And Stay asleep,” he told the reptilian portion of his brain.

Finally, Jeff answered as the alcohol took effect and the snake slept. “No, everything’s fine. I had a very rough day at work.”

He reached over, grabbed her by the waist and hugged her, playing tongue tag.

He had mixed feelings now, more so than he had had all day.

Stephanie was so beautiful and her nose, mouth, lips and eyes mimicked his stepmother’s, but her hair color wasn’t right.

She wasn’t blonde.

He had to do something about that.

That was the last suggestion the snake made before slithering into slumber.

It reverberated in Jeff’s brain: Jussst not right.

Mussst be blonde.

Mussst be blonde.

Hisssss.

They ate dinner, drank and fell into each other’s arms in the galley.

Afterward, they made their way to the aft master stateroom where their passions exploded and they had each other multiple times.

The snake hibernated throughout the night while Jeff and Stephanie continued their lovemaking undisturbed by Slither’s murderous thoughts.