NOTE: First off, thanks so much for your fabulous feedback. I'm so glad you're all enjoying this story because I am just loving your comments.
Secondly, someone told me they don't understand the meaning of the term "pwned", so for you non-gamers, I'll cue you in. "Pwned" is a term that means "to own" as "to dominate, destroy, conquer" in a game. For example, when I whoop your rear end during online play, you've been pwned by me. If you play Halo online, you probably have been.
So, here's the fourth chapter. Not as long as the previous, but hopefully satisfying anyways. I can't wait to hear what you think of this chapter, and hope you enjoy learning a little bit more about Mallory.
SPOILERS: Assume that my FF always spoils it all.
RATING: Imagine the worst and smile.
CHAPTER FOUR:
Summarily dismissed by Mallory, I headed back to the Haywood building to see what Stephanie had dug up about my mystery woman. Stephanie was sitting at her cubicle when I arrived on the fifth floor and I leaned over her shoulder to say hello.
"Yo," I greeted her, scoping out the screen. I didn't recognize any of the information and quickly lost interest, straightening to lean against the wall of her cube.
"Yo, yourself. I got the information for you." She smiled at me and lifted a sheaf of papers out of her out-box, handing them over. There were only a few sheets, so I knew Stephanie had done as I asked and kept a light touch.
"What did you think of her?" I asked, tucking the sheaf under my arm to look over later.
"I thought she was good at keeping the conversation away from herself and that she wasn't too happy to be surprised by Lula and me at Pino's. She seems smart, capable, funny, and private." She paused, letting that sink in. "And I liked her. A lot."
"You like everyone," I countered, wordlessly agreeing to the rest of her observations.
"Not true. But I trust my Spidey-sense and she definitely wasn't setting off any alarms."
Stephanie was right. She didn't immediately like everyone and her 'Spidey-sense', while often referred to jokingly, was well-respected at RangeMan. We'd all benefited from Steph's intuition and it had helped avoid a number of bad situations.
"Did you read any of the information from your search?"
Stephanie shook her head. "Just skimmed it. I figured I'd leave the rest to you. I know you'll inform Ranger if anything needs double-checking, but I trust your gut on this."
"Thanks, beautiful." I leaned down and dropped a kiss on her forehead and headed back for my apartment, the information on one Gabrielle Mallory clutched in my hand.
I settled myself on the sofa with a beer once I got to my studio apartment to read the papers. The first bit of information that caught my eye was Mallory's full name and I laughed out loud. Gabrielle Danger Mallory. No joke. Her parents must have had a sense of humor. The next bit was related to immediate family and I read her parents' names, Lee Braddock Mallory and Marie Talia Mallory. No mention of the mom's maiden name. She had one brother, Iserate Trouble Mallory. More parental humor, obviously.
The rest of the information read like a timeline. The search had covered her juvenile record and there was a mention of a B&E when she was nine, of all things, but after that everything was quiet until she was twenty-two. I scanned back to the top and found her birthday. The first thing I noticed was that her birthday was July seventh, only a few weeks away. The second thing I noted was the year of her birth. She was thirty-two. Holy shit. She didn't look a day over twenty-four, and that was aiming high. Woman had good genes. I realized from what she'd told me that she must have started the BEA gig when she actually was twenty-four and wondered what she'd looked like eight years ago.
When she was twenty-two there was a domestic disturbance that had landed Mallory in jail for a few days. The charges were three accounts of assault four, one of the most minor offenses a person could commit. The charges were dropped to one account of disturbing the peace, listed as Talking In A Manner That Could Lead to Violence. I didn't even know you could get convicted of something as pithy as that.
After that, Mallory went quiet for two years, popping back onto the grid as BEA. I sifted through the papers and found an employment history that listed a number of bond agencies along the west coast, mostly in Western Washington cities and a few along the board in northern Oregon, namely Portland. Mariner Bail Bonds wasn't mentioned at all, not even as an asset. Maybe it wasn't owned under her name.
Scanning through the rest of the paperwork, I found a marriage license and certificate. She'd been married the June before she turned twenty-four to some guy named Adam Smith. The next paper was confirmation of divorce and stated that Mallory had secured the divorce while Smith was absentee. I couldn't imagine any guy leaving Mallory. The page said the marriage officially ended when Mallory was twenty-seven, almost four years exactly after the wedding.
Curious, I thought about running a search on the man, but it seemed too likely that part of Mallory's mysterious past probably tied into her marriage to the guy and I really wanted to give Mallory a chance to talk to me about her past herself. So far, all the information I'd seen was just circumstantial and proved that Mallory wasn't secretly someone else than she claimed, or some psycho killer. The one conviction wasn't much to base a full-scale search on, so I shelved my curiosity and flipped through the information once more.
The fact that she'd been married was interesting. For some reason, I had a hard time picturing her in the wife role, but then, I really didn't know her very well. I thought back to her bringing me coffee that morning, which had been a nice surprise. I also reexamined her comment to Stephanie about hating guys that beat women and wondered if it was a hate born of experience. That didn't fit really, either. Mallory had said she wasn't the kind of woman that would just lie down and take a beating. That didn't, however, mean that someone hadn't tried to make her.
So many questions. The information Stephanie had given me had brought up more of those than answers and I was even more determined to learn Mallory's secrets. My own personal code of conduct for the game didn't allow me to dig any deeper with the programs at my disposal, so I figured I'd just have to be patient until she got back.
#
I fucking hate being patient. Two weeks had dragged by and we were now in the middle of June with no word from Mallory. I'd called her a few times over the past two weeks but her cell went straight to voicemail, tantalizing me with a scrap of her voice. I dialed it again.
No ring, just straight to the recording. "If you want me to call you back, you'll leave a message." Fuckin' A. I didn't leave a message, even though I would have liked her to call me back.
I hadn't heard from Mallory since she'd left me at Shorty's. That had been June fifth and it was now the twenty-first. She'd said she wouldn't be gone more than ten days but there hadn't been any contact.
"No luck?"
I turned my head to look at Bobby. We had just brought in a high-bond skip and were headed back toward Haywood. The clock said it was almost eight pm. I shook my head. "Her phone is still off."
Bobby smirked at me. "You want to do a drive by of her place? See if there's any activity?"
"She probably wouldn't appreciate that," I replied, wanting to do it anyways.
"If she's not there, she'll never know. And if she is there, then you can deal with it if you have to." He paused, shooting me a look. "You've got it bad."
I growled a sigh and rolled my head to look out the window. "You met her. Can you blame me?"
He laughed. "No. And you never could leave a mystery alone. No wonder you and Bomber get along so well."
I gave him the finger. "Just a quick drive-by," I said and Bobby laughed again.
We were pretty close to RangeMan by that time, and the great thing about the building's location is that it's roughly ten minutes from everywhere in Trenton. It only took us twelve to get to Mallory's place. This was probably why she didn't usually tell people where she lived.
It was difficult to tell if anyone was home. The house was set a ways back from the wall and the gate was closed.
"Dare you to jump up on the wall," Bobby said, pulling to a stop across the street.
I cut a look to him, arching a brow. I figured trying to jump Mallory's wall was a great way to get shot if she was home and a waste of my time if she wasn't. Either way, no go.
Bobby grinned and then glanced up at the rearview mirror. "We've got company," he stated, losing the grin.
I turned in my seat to see a midnight blue Shelby Mustang purring up behind us. It crossed the street and pulled up to the curb next to Mallory's wall before coming to a stop. The windows were tinted illegally dark so we couldn't see who was in the car, but I could guess. Shit.
The Mustang's engine cut out and the passenger side door opened, revealing a man that smoothly angled himself out onto the street. He was around six feet tall, with broad chest and shoulders under a black t-shirt. He had an impressive, reddish beard and his hair was buzzed tight to his skull. Heavy brows slanted over deep set eyes and he had a hand on the gun holstered at his hip. His face was expressionless, but he was watching our Explorer.
The man turned and said something to the driver and then straightened up, shutting the door to the Mustang and leaning back against it, crossing his arms over his muscular chest.
We watched the driver side door open and Mallory slipped into view as she stood, looking over the top of the car at us. She wasn't wearing any glasses and looked completely different from what I'd come to expect.
Mallory rounded the car, watching the Explorer, her face the same emotionless mask as the mystery man's. Mallory's hair was parted on the left side at an angle and swept back into a messy twist on the back of her head, held in place by what I couldn't see. She was wearing a strapless green sundress that fell to just below her knees and four inch stiletto sandals that showcased her calves. She had a green sweater in her hand and she shrugged into it, covering her arms and shoulders. I noticed that she wasn't wearing her gloves, but it looked like maybe she was wearing rings and even a few bracelets on her left wrist. She looked good enough to eat and I wanted to pull the smocking of her dress away from her skin and run my lips over the flesh beneath.
"We're been made, man," Bobby said, turning away from the window to look at me. "Make a run for it, or face the music?"
Mallory was still staring at the Explorer and as I looked past Bobby to her she jerked her chin up slightly, indicating I had better come out and say something.
"I'm really glad you're a medic," I muttered to Bobby and climbed out of the SUV. Bobby followed suit and we crossed the street together.
Mallory's mystery man pushed away from the Mustang and moved slightly in front of her, protective, his arms uncrossing and hanging loose at his sides.
Before I could say anything, Mallory spoke up. "What are you doing here?"
Certainly to the point. "I hadn't heard from you and we thought we'd do a drive-by out of curiosity," I answered. "I didn't think you were back yet."
Mystery Man turned his head slightly, looking at Mallory from the corner of his eye and she gave him a barely perceptible nod. He shifted away from her, leaning against the car once more. I suddenly realized that he was her partner, and, more importantly, that he looked very much like a large, male version of her. Mallory hadn't mentioned that her partner was also her brother.
"I got in Thursday," she replied, resting her hands on her hips. "I didn't realize I was supposed to check in the moment I hit Trenton."
I really didn't have anything to say to that, so I opted for the blank face in return, although I was strangely disappointed that she hadn't checked in the day of her arrival or at least the day after.
Bobby saved the moment from turning into a tense silence. "Good to see you again, Mallory," he greeted her, stepping forward.
Mallory's brother tensed slightly but relaxed when Mallory relented and slapped Bobby's hand, bumping knuckles.
"Well, since you're here," Mallory said, turning her attention back to me. "You might as well meet my partner. Ice, this is Lester Santos and his partner Bobby Brown. I mentioned them to you." Her tone said she'd more than mentioned us. His look said he'd heard plenty.
Ice, for Iserate I was guessing, shook hands with us, his grip firm, but he didn't do the macho squeezing thing, for which I was relieved. Up close I saw that his eyes were blue-gray in color and wary in much the same way as Mallory's.
"She didn't mention that you were her brother," I said, shaking his hand.
"Mallory doesn't mention much," he replied, releasing my hand to shake Bobby's.
"You're all dressed up. You working?" Mallory asked. She reached up to scratch her jaw with her left hand and I noticed a star tattooed on the inside of her wrist and a skull and crossbones tattooed on her left ring finger, right where a wedding set would sit.
"We just turned in an FTA. Surveillance finally paid off and we nailed the bastard," Bobby replied.
"So you're off duty, then?"
"Until tomorrow."
Mallory met her brother's gaze and it was obvious they were silently communicating about something. Ice lifted his left shoulder in a tiny shrug and Mallory must have took that for some sort of answer because she turned her attention back to me.
"We were going to eat some dinner. You guys are welcome to join us."
I was extremely grateful for my military background and years at RangeMan at that moment; without them my jaw would have dropped open and I would have been making a rather convincing impression of a fish. As it was, I hesitated. Once more, Bobby rescued me.
"I'm starving. Dinner sounds great. Right, Lester?" He looked at me pointedly and I nodded, momentarily mute. This was definitely better than getting shot, or even bitched out for invading Mallory's privacy. It was absolutely better than finding out if Ice was as capable as he looked. I'm good, but Ice looked like he'd make me work hard for a win in a fight.
"It would be a pleasure," I said, managing to keep my voice neutral. I was sure Mallory got off on throwing me off balance. Then I thought about getting Mallory off and had to give myself a mental shake.
"Follow us in." Ice and Mallory got back into the Mustang and the gate slid open. They drove through and we followed just before the gate shut behind us.
Mallory pulled the Mustang into the garage next to her Pathfinder and climbed out of the car, a white leather purse over her shoulder. Ice had a case of beer in his hand and Mallory gestured for us to follow them into the house through the garage, closing the garage door with her key fob.
We entered a short hallway with three closed doors on our right and another door at the end. An open archway to the left deposited the four of us into a large kitchen and breakfast area. Windows covered most of the back wall but the view of the yard beyond was blocked by wide-slat blinds. The breakfast area was open to what must have been the living room.
My mouth watered as I noticed the entire space smelled of roasted chicken and I watched as Ice loaded the case of beer into the large, stainless steel fridge. Mallory walked to a double oven and opened the lower of the two, pulling out the chicken that had produced the smells. She placed the bird on the counter and then opened the top oven and removed another dish full of roasted potatoes and onions. A pot on the stove held gravy and there was a bowl of steamed Brussels sprouts that came out of the microwave.
Mallory noticed Bobby and me staring at her and smiled slightly. "Dinner was done. But I was out of beer, so we made a trip."
Ice passed beers out to everyone and then helped Mallory carry the food to the breakfast table near the window. She opened the blinds, revealing a view of a deck and covered outdoor kitchen. Deep shadows were falling, obscuring much of what I could see, but it looked like a space designed for relaxing.
Between the two of them, Mallory and Ice had the table set in a few moments, moving with the efficiency of long familiarity.
"Sit," Mallory commanded us, gesturing toward the table. We'd taken up residence on two of the four stools at the counter bar and Bobby and I didn't have to be told twice to move toward the food.
Mallory carried a carving knife and serving fork with her to the table and deftly carved up the chicken, piecing out the legs, wings and thighs before slicing the breast. Ice had placed the gravy pot directly on the heavy pine table with a ladle and didn't waste any time loading his place with roasted potatoes and sprouts, pouring gravy over both. Mallory divided up the chicken between our four plates and let the rest of us finish dishing up before completing her own plate.
"You cooked this?" I asked her, spearing a cube of roasted sweet potato dripping in gravy and barely restraining myself from making a very Stephanie-esque noise of pleasure at the taste.
"I enjoy cooking, especially for company," she replied, taking a bite of her chicken, smiling in enjoyment.
"We would have had leftovers for lunch tomorrow," Ice said, addressing Bobby and me, and also digging in. "Mallory must be feeling generous to share."
I've often thought that you can tell how good a meal is by how much conversation goes on while people are eating it. Mallory's chicken dinner was excellent enough to discourage any further discussion and we finished the meal in relative silence. The only noise was silverware scraping on plates and an occasional 'mmm' of pleasure from one of us. Plates cleaned at almost the same exact moment, we all leaned back in our seats with sighs of contentment, sipping our beers.
"Damn, Mallory, that was fantastic," Bobby said, resting his hand on his stomach and lifting his beer to her in appreciation.
She smiled. "I aim to please," she replied and I swear her eyes flickered to me for a moment, giving me a tiny thrill.
"Thanks, Rielle. I needed that," Ice said and I latched on to the moniker. Rielle, hunh.
She must have noticed my reaction to the name because she caught my eye and her face was suddenly expressionless, jaw tight. The message was clear; Ice could call her Rielle, I could not.
I spotted Ice shifting his eyes between the two of us and Bobby was doing the same. Mallory herself broke the tension by standing and moving toward the fridge.
"Anyone else want another brew?" she tossed over her shoulder and we all chorused 'yes' together. I watched her hips sway under the full skirt of her dress as she sashayed across the room on her sexy sandals. She directed a smirk at us over her shoulder and placed her empty on the counter before grabbing four more beers out of the fridge.
Once the beers were distributed Mallory addressed Bobby and me. "We were going to play some Halo. You guys can hang around and play if you'd like."
I shifted my eyes to Bobby and smiled. "Halo?" he asked, immediately interested. Bobby and I often completed marathon gaming sessions, and the Halo series had long been a favorite.
"Could be fun," Ice added. "Mallory and me against the two of you. At least, until you've had enough." His smile was predatory.
"We're in," I said, accepting the challenge. It was time to bring Mallory down after her multiple pool wins at Shorty's.
Mallory excused herself to change out of her sun dress and Ice led us into the great room and we seated ourselves on the overstuffed furniture before the massive, sixty-five inch LCD television. Ice handed out Xbox 360 controllers and booted up the system. I noted that Mallory also had a pricey Bose surround sound stereo system and a few other game consols. The woman enjoyed her electronics.
Mallory appeared a moment later, barefoot and dressed in care worn low-slung blue jeans and a fitted black tank. When she passed in front of me to grab her own controller I saw the edges of what must have been a large, Japanese style tattoo on her back, peaking out over the neck of her tank and across the back of her shoulders. Her hair was still twisted off her neck and I wished I could see how long it really was.
A few moments later and we were battling on the science-fiction ring world, two-on-two. The first thing I realized as Mallory and Ice slaughtered Bobby and I for the tenth time without either of them getting killed was that the two of them has been handing out virtual beatings as a team for a long, long time. If they worked half as well together as BEA partners, the reputation Mallory seemed to have earned in such a short time at True Blue was well deserved.
They spoke little, except to taunt Bobby and me, 'tea-bagging' our bodies before running off to find us again and occasionally high-fiving each other when one or the other made a particularly spectacular kill. I could feel my competitive spirit rebelling against the beating and swore fluently when Mallory 'tea-bagged' me once more.
"I can't believe you fucking tea-bag," I griped as Mallory shot me a fierce and delighted grin, laughing.
"I don't tea-bag, baby. I camel-toe," she laughed. She had her attention fixed back on the screen and I saw Bobby moving to sneak up behind her. His attack was preempted when Ice stuck a grenade to his face and blew his avatar across the screen.
"I want to play online," Bobby growled as the game concluded. Mallory and Ice had a total of fifty-kills, Ice leading ahead of Mallory by five. Bobby and I scored in at six, four for Bobby and two for me.
"You guys can team with us online," Mallory said and fished headsets out of the coffee table. "Those should all be charged."
"What do we need headsets for?" Bobby asked. "We don't need them to communicate."
"I like the smack talk," Mallory admitted, grinning. "Helps me work out my frustrations and exercise my foul mouth."
We played Halo for three hours, stopping ocassionally to replenish our beers. Bobby and I were paired with Mallory and Ice and won match after match, all of us swearing and laughing at the other teams, high fiving one another and wrecking havoc on the unsuspecting online community. All-in-all, it was the best game run I'd ever had and Bobby and I were known to while away long hours on the console.
My favorite moment of the evening was when Mallory whacked some guy that had killed Bobby three times in a row and mocked him with a nasty little rhyme while desecrating his digital corpse. Her voice was gleefully sadistic as she taunted, "Feel the warm embrace of my camel-toe on your face."
I'd never played video games with a woman before and hearing Mallory run her dirty, smack talking mouth was fantastic. It was the only time I'd ever heard anyone keep up with my own twisted self.
Midnight rolled around and Bobby reminded me that we had work the next day at seven and Mallory turned off the consol and stood.
"I'm glad you guys decided to hang around," Mallory said, smiling warmly at us both. I hoped I wasn't imagining it when her eyes lingered on me a few moments longer than they did on Bobby. "We don't normally play with anyone that can keep up with us. We've been playing Halo as a team for nine years, so don't feel too bad about getting your asses handed to you."
Ice slapped and knuckle bumped hands with us both, and I felt like I'd known him for years. I figured if I didn't completely screw up things with Mallory at some point, Ice was definitely the kind of man I'd like to have as a friend and certainly not as an enemy.
Ice excused himself to the restroom and Mallory walked us to the front door, moving out onto the porch with Bobby and me. I turned to face her as she pulled the front door closed and Bobby smiled slightly at me after wishing Mallory goodnight once more and thanking her for dinner. He headed for the Explorer and I moved closer to Mallory, trying to read her face in the faint starlight and the pale glow of the waning crescent moon.
"Getting beat by a girl bother you?" she teased me, tilting her head back to meet my eyes.
I shook my head, smiling. "Actually, it kinda turned me on," I admitted, my voice lowering fractionally. Her smile widened slightly and the little dimple below her mouth peaked out at me.
"You enjoy a little beating?" she questioned and her voice was seductively amused. She moved into my space and I reached out to rest my hand on her hip, drawing her against me.
"I think I'd enjoy just about anything you'd like to do to me," I answered, dipping my head and inhaling her scent. Mallory placed one hand on my shoulder and the other on my chest, her fingertips stroking lightly through the tight black material of my t-shirt, prompting me to grip her other hip with my free hand and fit her more tightly against me. I was already granite hard and when she rocked herself against me slightly I sucked in a sharp hiss and then took her mouth with mine.
Holy shit, it was like lighting a fire with a flame thrower. Mallory's lips immediately parted and her tongue slid against mine, hot and wet. I growled into her mouth and her arms wound around my neck as she went up on tip-toe, molding her body against mine. I wrapped an around her waist and moved my other hand up her side to rest on her ribs, my thumb lightly brushing the underside of her breast.
Mallory made a primal, purring noise and dragged her fingernails over my scalp, sending little tingling electrical shocks across my skin.
Before I knew it I had her pressed back against the door, dragging my mouth down her throat to taste her pulse in the hollow at the base of her neck. She held my mouth to her skin with a hand on the back of my head. I rocked my cock against the apex of her thighs and she moaned, rolling her hips.
I wanted to take her right there against the door as she dragged my mouth back to hers, working her tongue and lips skillfully against my own.
I was working my hand under the edge of her tank when Bobby, probably perfectly aware of what was happening on the porch despite the dark, turned on the headlights and gave the Explorer's horn a sharp tap. I pulled my mouth away and rested my forehead against hers, pleased that her breathing was as ragged as my own.
"Anytime you want to beat me, you just let me know," I rasped, rocking against her once more and kissing her gently when she moaned.
"Count on it," she whispered back, her voice breathless.
I disentangled myself from her and passed my palm over my scalp, my heart still thundering in my chest. It was satisfying to see Mallory's pulse leaping visibly in her throat and to hear the tiny catch in her breathing that indicated she was just as affected by our kiss as I was.
"I'll be seeing you," she whispered and brushed her finger over my lower lip, her own mouth curving into a seductive smile.
"Believe it," I answered and surprised her by suddenly shoving her against the door once more and kissing her hard and deep, sweeping my tongue into her mouth before moving away and hopping down the porch steps to the stone walk that led to the driveway.
I turned and looked at Mallory just before I climbed into the SUV. She was standing at the rail, one hip hitched against it and her arms folded across her chest. Her face was too dark for me to read her expression, but I thought she was smiling. The gate rolled open behind us and Bobby backed us out of the drive and onto the road.
That was better than hanging up first, I thought, smiling slightly to myself.
Bobby shot me a sideways look, a smirk twisting his mouth.
"Have fun saying goodbye?" he asked, his voice amused.
"Oh, yeah," I replied, grinning back at him. "You picked a shitty moment to honk the horn," I added.
"Depends on your view. For you, probably. For me, just in time."
I continued to grin like a fool. "There's always next time."
#
YO: A few fun facts: Mallory and her brother's middle names are a reference to my own brother. He wants his kids' middle names to be Danger and Trouble (should he ever get around to procreating). Also, Mallory's brother is based on my own brother, who's middle name (one of the four, anyway) is Iserate. My brother could be a Merry Man and is one scary dude. Thankfully, he's on my side. Mallory's voicemail message is my own.
Talking In A Manner That Could Lead to Violence is an actual crime you can be convicted of. Trust me on that one. It's a misdemeanor, obviously.
Also, I know I've mentioned Mallory carries a Tom Brown knife. The model I've got in mind is the Tom Brown T3 Tracker Knife and it's a sweet piece of work if you're into survival/camping, etc. Well worth the money and perfectly practical. If you've ever seen the Tommy Lee Jones and Benicio del Toro movie titled The Hunted, you'll have seen the T3. Also, Jones' character was based on Tom Brown.
GAMEROLOGY:
Tea-bag or Tea-bagging: After killing an opponent in game play (Halo games, especially), the 'victor' will stand on top of the defeated party's corpse and rapidly duck and stand, appearing to 'hump' them. This is an action often accompanied with the term 'pwn'. Mallory's comment, "I don't tea-bag, I camel-toe," references that, as a woman, she doesn't have 'tea-bags' and therefore must 'camel-toe' her opponent.