Read The Devlin Deception: Book One of The Devlin Quatrology Online

Authors: Jake Devlin,(with Bonnie Springs)

The Devlin Deception: Book One of The Devlin Quatrology (35 page)

“Well, I'm loving it. I'll give you till the end of the year
to stop.

“Just a teeny bit more to the right, okay?”

“Here?”

“Oh, yesssss, right there. Ahhh.”

“The cream makes it awful slippery.”

“That's okay. It still feels wonder- – oh, yes, yes,
yes, right there.”

“Like that?”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Jake smiled and continued his ministrations.

When they'd left the water twelve or thirteen minutes earlier, Jake
made some notes, including the names Christopher and Paige, as he
watched Pam spreading sunscreen on her arms, legs, stomach and
shoulders, as well as a gentle dab to her face.

“Ready for the back?”

“Yup, if you would.”

“Happy to, as long as I don't have to stand up.”

“No problem. Last thing I want to do is make you stand up.”

Pam moved to beside Jake's lounge, gave him the bottle and sat down
in the sand, her back to him, as he sat up sideways.

“Ah, good brand, same as mine. But I only use a 15.”

“For now, I think the 30 is better for me, at least until I
catch up to you.”

“I wouldn't hold my breath on that.”

“You might be surprised. I tan pretty quickly.”

“Quicklier than other blondes?”

Pam ran her fingers through her hair and laughed. “Sure.”

After a moment, Jake said, “Geez, your shoulder muscles are
kinda tense. Can you relax them a bit?”

Pam shrugged a couple of times, then let go. “Like that?”

“That's a little better. May I?”

“Sure.”

As Jake finished smearing the sunscreen, he began gently massaging
her shoulders. She sighed and let her head drop forward.

The Mimosa twins smiled and winked at each other. Norm and Janet,
who had arrived an hour or so earlier, looked on, amused at the
difference in Pam's demeanor now from two months earlier. Some of
the Beach Potatoes got their cell phones and cameras out, the Beach
Balls looked down their chubby noses in annoyance, but those of the
Incontinentals who were still in their chairs, not using the
facilities, were too far away to even notice.

“Ohhh, Jake, that feels soooo good.”

He ran his fingers up her neck, gradually adding a little bit more
pressure, seeking, finding.

“Let me know if it hurts. You've got some pretty tight knots
up in here.”

“Oh! You found that one.”

“Sorry. Let me see if I can work it out.”

“Okay,” she mumbled, her chin down on her upper chest.

“This may hurt a little bit.”

“Okay – ouch – no, don't worry; that's fine. Go
ahea- – ahhh.”

“Better?”

“I think so.”

“A little pain, a little pleasure.”

“That's life.”

“But only in eight percent of it; 92 percent routine.”

Pam laughed, but kept the laughter from moving her head.

“Well, this eight percent is pretty damned good.”

“I'm glad.”

Jake continued, the silence broken only by Pam's sighs and quiet
moans.

But after a minute, Jake could feel Pam's neck tense up a bit.

“What?” he asked.

“Sorry. My brain kept going.”

“Ah. What?”

“We didn't finish my notes on your stuff, and I remembered one
thing.”

“And that is?”

“I'm concerned about your having the Pope swearing.”

“Oh. I debated that for a long time. Then I reminded myself
that it's not the real Pope, he's fictional, so I think it's okay.
And it fits with what they're plotting in that scene – I mean
chapter.”

“But you used his real name, sort of.”

“Oh, the Bennie bit? No, he's Italian, not German, and his
full first name is Benedetto, not Benedict. He's fictional.”

“I don't know, Jake. That may be another red flag … not
just for Donne, but for you.”

“What, you think the Church would come after me, too?”

“They're pretty powerful, always have been.”

“I know that. I've read about the Inquisition, Galileo, and
all the rest. Hell, I even read about Constantine and how he killed
people who wouldn't accept the Nicene Creed … allegedly. He
was as bad as the radical Islamic terrorists today. I think one
'fuck' and three 'focus'-es in there aren't too far out of line.
Hey, you're tensing up again.”

“Sorry. But are you having him go after the Islamists, too?”

“Yup, but in a surgical way, a rifle, not a shotgun.”

“Oh, geez.”

“Hey, Pam, easy; quit fighting it. Relax, okay?”

“Sorry; I'll try.”

“Ah, I've got it. Compartmentalize.”

Pam laughed. “Your memory is getting better.”

“I've been thinking a lot about that as I write, and whenever
I've thought about you. Which has been a lot.”

“Really?”

“Really, especially since yesterday. It's nice to see you
relaxed.”

“Well, you're sure helping on that front.”

“Actually, I'm working on your back.”

Pam laughed.

“Did you know you've got great shoulder blades?”

“What?”

“You've got great shoulder blades; they have a great shape and
move really exotically.”

“Exotically? I have exotic shoulder blades? That's a new
one.”

“Well, I like yours.”

“Why, thank you, suh; ah do 'preciate that.”

“Well, you deserve it. Now, try to relax, okay?”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

This time, the silence was broken after a minute by a harsh, nasal
voice.

“Hey, Jake, try this.”

“What is it, Sonya? What do you want?”

“It's a cigar. I've been trying to tell you about them for
weeks.”

“Looks like a brown cigarette.”

“Smokes just like one, too, and they're only a buck a pack, ten
bucks a carton.”

“Yeah? Where?”

“Over at B2B Liquors, in the green strip mall with the barber
shop and print place. Try it; you might like it.”

“Okay, I will.”

“I'm sure you'll like it. That's a light, comes in a
blue-and-white box. They also come in flavors, like strawberry,
orange, peach --”

“Okay, Sonya, I'll try it later.”

“I'm sure you'll like it. Let me know --”

“I'll try it, Sonya, promise.”

“So who's this?”

“I'm Pamela.”

“Hey, Pamela; I'm Sonya, and my husband, Herb, is up there.”

“Oh.”

“He's trying to solve Fermat's Last Theorem.”

“Trying to solve what?” Jake asked.

“I thought Wiles solved that back in the '90s,” Pam said.

A shocked look was the only response Sonya gave Pam, the first time
Jake had ever seen her speechless.

“Well, Sonya, Pam and I were just heading back into the water.
Thanks for the cigar and say hi to Herb for me.”

“You know about Fermat?” Sonya said, moving closer to
Pam.

“Yup. But Jake's right; it's getting too hot up here. Nice to
meet you … Sonya, was it?”

“Right.

“So, Jake --”

“Sonya, we've got to go. Thanks again.”

“But --”

“I'll let you know how I like it. See ya.”

“But, Jake --”

“Later, Sonya; I'll let you know. Promise.”

“Want me to help you up, Jake?”

“Thanks, Pam. Wawa time. See ya, Sonya.”

“Well, okay. Try it; you'll love it.” She set the cigar
on Jake's bag and headed back up to Herb and her chair.

“I see what you mean, Jake; she is kind of outspoken.”

“Not by anybody I know.”

Pam chuckled.

“We'll continue in the water, okay, Pam?”

“I'd love that, Jake, as long as your hands aren't too tired.”

“Not at all, Pam, not at all.”

Sharon's voice rasped through Jill and Carie's earbuds. “I'll
bet you dollars to doughnuts they do it sometime today.”

Jill said, “No bet; that's a f'sure.”

Carie added, “Well, he better wake up and pick up on the cues.”

Sharon said, “Her place or his?”

Jill said, “I'll put a buck on his.”

“You're on, Jill. Carie?”

“A buck on his for me, too.”

“Guess I'm in for two bucks on hers. And it's just three
floors down, right under me. I'm gonna go put a bug in there.”

Jill and Carie both said, “No, Sharon, no!”

“Hey, it's part of the mission; surveil and protect.”

“We know, Sharon. And keep the principal in the dark.”

“I still don't understand that part, CB. It'd be so much
simpler if he knew.”

“Ours not to question, kids, just follow the mission
parameters.”

“But we don't even know who the client is, and he's paying a
fortune just for the three of us.”

Sharon said, “It's obviously someone who wants to be sure his
book gets published.”

Carie said, “Or maybe someone who wants to know what he's
writing before he gets it done. Remember, surveil before protect.”

Jill said, “Somebody with lotsa bucks, that's f'sure. I wonder
--”

Sharon said, “Speculate later. Meanwhile, I'll get that bug
set.”

“No, Sharon,” said Carie. “You --”

“I can do it; Kal left all the equipment here.”

Carie said, “Not in your skill set. I'll do it.”

“Well, then get your butt up here quick and get it done; I'll
get the stuff out for you. What do you think, audio only or both A
and V?”

“Both, I think. Keep the options open.”

“So get going, kiddo.”

“On my way. Jill, hold down the fort, okay?”

“Holding.”

Carie left and returned ten minutes later. “Done.”

Jill said, “Cool.”

Carie held up a thumb drive. “And I got that sex file off her
PC.”

Sharon rasped and Jill squealed, “Yippee!!”

-66-

Thursday, January 5, 2012

1:30 a.m. EST

New York, New York

In an Italian social club in the Bronx, the heads of five families
were bemoaning the loss of nearly all their hit men, who had been
dying of mostly natural causes or accidents over the past seven
months or were simply missing.

The same sorrow and frustration was reflected in other mob enclaves
in Chicago, Philadelphia, Detroit, Atlanta, St. Louis, Las Vegas,
Boston, Providence, Atlantic City, Newark, Miami, Nashville, Orlando,
Dover, Albany, Burlington, Manchester, Indianapolis, Los Angeles, San
Francisco, Seattle, Portland, Tacoma, Boise, Helena, Pierre, Phoenix,
Denver, Fargo, Duluth, Milwaukee, Madison, Salt Lake City, Dallas,
Scottsdale, Albuquerque, Houston, San Antonio, Minneapolis, Madison,
Stevie Bruce, Hartford, Charleston, Berkeley, Worcester, Malden,
Somerville, Lowell, Taunton, Sebring, Jonesboro, Palermo, Naples,
Venice, Baghdad, Amman, Moscow, Cairo, Tokyo, Beijing, Mumbai,
Jakarta, Sydney, as well as three other cities the author has
forgotten, where each and every hit man on their payrolls had also
died, most of natural causes or accidents, except for seven who had
been blown to bits in explosions, two shot, one at close range and
one from an extremely long distance, and one who had been smothered
by the stomach of an elephant in a zoo in Oklahoma City; how he came
to be in the elephant's domain and why the animal lay down on top of
him remains a mystery to police to this day.

Bosses in the Russian mob, gathered in Brighton Beach, NY, had the
same frustration and sorrow. The same was true of bosses in the
Lithuanian, Luxembourgian, Estonian, Samoan, Fijian, Melbournian,
Norwegian, Icelandic, Bolivian, Peruvian, Zimbabwean, Egyptian,
Sudanese, Somalian, Mongolian, Kazakhstanian, Parisian, Berlinian,
St. Petersburgian, Armenia, Turkmenistanian, Obsessivian, Scottish,
Compulsivian, Irish, Torontoian, Vancouverian, Depressivian, Avian,
Manician, Musician, Rastafarian, Ecuadorian, Guatemalan, Belizian,
Zimbabwean, Repetitivian, Redundantarian, Indonesian, Japanese,
Syrian, Antediluvian, Mexican, Spanian, Grecian, Zimbabwean, Belgian,
Kievian, Munichian, Manichean, Einsteinian, Latvian, Colombian,
Zimbabwean, Repetivian, Redundantarian, Darwinian, Sargassoian,
Borneoian, Kegelian, Marshall Islandian, Violian, Bassoonian, French
Hornian, Uralian, Carpathian, Galapagosian, Hungarian, Romanian,
Czechoslovakian, Bosnia-Herzegovinian, Dusseldorfian, Trombonian,
Trumpetarian and New Ulmian mobs.

In fact, other than the man with many names, only the tiny and mostly
impotent Tubalian mob had a killer still alive, and she was stuck in
the frozen Antarctic, where she had botched her most recent
assignment, and was unable to return to her home island of Tuba.

-67-

Five Months Earlier

Sunday, August 14, 2011

11:20 a.m.

Bonita Beach, Florida

“The cream makes it a bit slippery.”

“That's okay. It still feels wonder- – oh, yes, yes,
yes, right there.”

“Like that?”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Jake smiled and continued his ministrations.

Gradually, he could feel Pam's shoulder muscles relaxing and her neck
beginning to loosen up, as well.

He put his hands under her ears, thumbs behind, palms in front, and
very gently, very carefully, but firmly, twisted her head from side
to side, back and forth, loosening the muscles in her neck, jiggling
it very lightly on the top of her spine, finally letting it settle
there, and then slowly removing his hands, sliding them down her
neck, across her shoulders and back to rest on his noodles, a quiet
smile on his face.

Pam leaned back on her noodle and let her feet and body float up.

“Mmmm. Wake me up when it starts to snow; I'll just float
here till then.”

“That's a deal. I'll just float here and keep an eye on you.”

“The way you just made me feel, you can keep more than that on
me.”

This page left blank intentionally

(except for this note, of course).

Well, that remark left Jake speechless for a whole page and a lot of
lines. When he finally recovered his voice, he managed to squeak,
“Th-that's nice, Pam.”

Jill looked at Carie and said, “Oh, c'mon, Jake; wake up.
She's all yours, but you'd better start listening to her signals.
Remember your NLP training; geez.” Carie smiled in response,
then just nodded.

Other books

Harker's Journey by N.J. Walters
Shift by Jeff Povey
Las nieves del Kilimanjaro by Ernest Hemingway
The 22 Letters by King, Clive; Kennedy, Richard;
Eldritch Manor by Kim Thompson
The Road Through the Wall by Shirley Jackson
Borrowed Light by Hurley, Graham
Dreamkeepers by Dorothy Garlock