PILLOW TALK & DOUBLE DATES
Donovan was sleeping. Loralei snuggled up closely against his back. She inhaled the scent of him before allowing her lips to travel lightly across his shoulder and down his spine. He didn't move one muscle; he continued to breath deeply and to dream. He came awake slowly, loving the feel of her lips on his skin. It hadn't been that long since he last made love to her, but it felt like decades upon decades. Before he discovered the truth, she had scratched him at the surface, slightly digging in. But now, she was completely inside him, dug in so deeply, that it would be next to impossible to get her out. He didn't want that, not now, or ever again.
She drew away from him and sat up with her back facing him. He turned to his side and reached out to her. He ran his fingers along the slope of her back and immediately felt gooseflesh forming where he'd touched. "Please tell me you're not leaving."
Loralei turned her head and looked back at him. Smiling a little, she shook her head. "Where would I go, Agent Donovan? I don't have a place. Remember?"
He leaned toward her, and a moment later, she felt his warm breath on her skin. Another moment later, he began to place gentle kisses along her shoulder. "I missed you," he whispered against her flesh.
She sighed and closed her eyes. "Me too," she said.
Donovan opened his mouth to utter three words that he hadn't spoken aloud in a long time. After a moment, he snapped his mouth closed. He was hesitant. How would she react? How well would she take it? He shoved the thought aside. It was too soon. Instead, he said, "I don't want you to go."
Loralei moved and slid back into bed. She looked up at his handsome face. "I'm not going anywhere, Frank."
He leaned over her and kissed her softly. "I meant what I said, Loralei," he whispered against her lips. He leaned up a bit and smoothed her silky hair out of her face. "I don't intend to let you go again. I want to know everything you held back from me. Payback begins tonight, and once you totally open your heart to me, the debt you owe will be paid."
"Do you want my vital stats," she asked with a teasing smile.
He didn't smile or laugh or breathe. He nodded. "For starters."
She sighed. "Goddamn, you're not human. You don't even breathe."
"You're stalling, Loralei. Start talking."
She sighed again. "Okay. I'm an auburn haired single gal who will be thirty on her next birthday, which is in five months. Start shopping now. I was an awkward high school geek obsessed with crime shows on TV. I thought the life of an FBI agent would be exciting and dangerous. I went to college and studied criminal justice. I loved it so much, I went straight for my masters. After that, I drifted from job to job until the FBI came to speak at my school. It was my dream, and I immediately went after it. I went to the academy about a year and a half ago. I was mainly a techo geek who was sent out to bust up Internet child porn rings. I worked at that until I thought I'd go mad. Eventually, I hooked up with my mentor, Bart Jackson, and he recommended me for field duty. And here I am."
"That's your job, Loralei. It's not who you are. Tell me who you are. Tell me about your family, your pets, where you really live. Tell me that."
She was stunned to hear his request. Ironically enough, what he wanted to hear from her was what he had told her in the weeks they had dated. She had seen a side of him he had never shown to his colleagues. She had learned about his love of cooking, the nickname his mother gave him when he was a child ['Fookie.' And if you ever tell anyone that, I'll have to take you out, he had said. She wasn't sure if he was joking or not], the way his school friends had teased him about his ears, the fact he had been dumped on prom night, that he had cried for three days when his beloved pet dog died, and hundreds of other little things. Not once had she bothered sharing the same with him. She hadn't wanted to become intimate like that; she had wanted to remain aloof, and to avoid falling for him at all costs.
"Who I am, Frank," she said after a long pause, "is one scared bitch. I don't open up to just anyone, because when I do, I get hurt." She sighed. "But I trust you, I know you'll never hurt me. So here goes. I'm an only child; spoiled rotten, of course. My parents live in southern Missouri and we're a farm family. I have a nice one-bedroom apartment across town. You should come see it sometime. I'm not much of a housekeeper, though."
He finally smiled at her. "It's a start. Did you have any embarrassing nicknames as a child," he asked teasingly with a lifted eyebrow.
"No, I didn't…Fookie," she said.
"You know, I'm going to have to kill you now…but in a good way."
He kissed her deeply, and ended up making love to her. Donovan had never felt so settled, so happy. He didn't allow his three-word sentence to enter his mind the rest of the night. There was plenty of time for him to tell her how he felt.
* * *
Jake was confused. He still hadn't heard from Zara. When he got home after the most expensive sting operation in FBI history, there were no messages awaiting him. It wasn't like her not to call. What the hell am I thinking? Days ago, he had been bitching about the fact that she wouldn't leave him alone. Right now, he was angry because she had done exactly what he wanted. Of course, he supposed he was angry because she had given him the cold shoulder, and not the other way around. What the fuck?
A knock on the door drew his attention away from his confusion. Without thinking, he went to the door and opened it. His visitor was Zara. The last time he saw her, he had been intent on breaking off their relationship. She was suffocating him, getting too close too soon. However, the instant he his laid eyes on her, thoughts of dumping her swiftly began to leave him. Had she possessed him that completely?
"Where have you been," he demanded almost jealously.
"I'm sorry, Jake," she said meekly. "I had an unexpected death in the family, and I had to go. I didn't have time to tell you." She entered his apartment and threw her arms around his neck. "I missed you so."
He found himself responding to her touch, to her body. "So did I," he admitted. He meant it; he actually meant it. Within moments, they were in bed making mad, mad love.
After, Jake fell into a peaceful, satisfied sleep. Zara was wide-awake. She slipped out of his embrace. The party had shaken her, upset her. The authorities were on to her now, they knew about her. She wasn't thoroughly oblivious, of course. She had read the papers about the 'mysterious' deaths of several well-known millionaires, and had even heard through a contact that a couple of her husbands were exhumed. Yet, she hadn't wanted to believe she had slipped up. She had no idea where they were from, if they were police officers or FBI agents. Slowly, carefully, she slid out of bed. She glanced back at Jake. He hadn't moved one inch. She crept over to his discarded jeans and jacket.
She meticulously went through the pockets of his jeans and found nothing more than dryer lint. Frustrated, she tossed the garment aside and eyed his jacket. She reached over and took the soft leather jacket into her hands. It had two deep pockets; the first yielded the object she was looking for. It was a shield of some sort, but not the usual kind of shield. It resembled a FBI badge, but it was a little different. She had once thought he might have been FBI, but he wasn't. The silvery badge was inscribed with a peculiar abbreviation: 'SA.' Below the badge was his photo identification card. She smiled a little. Specialized, huh, she thought. There were three of them: Jake, the fake baron, and the woman. She had never preyed on women before; they offered her nothing. Yet, three was better than one any day. She'd take them all out. She had learned how to shoot, and it wouldn't be difficult.
* * *
Donovan looked up as Loralei and Jackson entered the conference room. Instead of Donovan fixing his typical harsh glare on Loralei, his eyes had softened, and they followed her about the room. They had parted earlier this morning so that Loralei could go back to the hotel to change before meeting everyone for yet another strategy meeting. Both wanted to keep their wits about them so they could work, but it wasn't easy. He watched as she walked past him to get a cup of coffee.
He couldn't sit back any longer. He approached her casually and set about getting coffee for himself. "Have you heard from Director Casey?"
The closeness of his body sent small shivers down her spine. She was typically cold natured, but right at that moment, she felt a bit hot. "Yes. He is not happy. He basically told me I was pretty stupid, and I had to agree. Nobody was satisfied about last night."
He sipped his coffee thoughtfully. "I was satisfied after last night, after this morning, and in the shower before you left," he said with a smirk.
"You can't do this to me, Agent Donovan," she whispered.
"No," he said, "not right now, but later I can and will." Without a word, he walked away and sat down.
Loralei set the coffee aside. She turned toward the conference table and fixed her eyes on Donovan's face. "Do you have any ice?"
Donovan hid a smile behind his hand. "I don't think so," he said.
For an hour or more, the agents sat and discussed what course of action they needed to take. The party had obviously flopped. They had few options left outside stalking every bar in the metro area. It was time to set up the decoys, and Donovan and Jake were once again to be the targets. There would be no more horrid scripts, no fake identities. They would walk in as themselves and hopefully walk out with a killer.
* * *
Later, Loralei unlocked the door to Donovan's apartment. They had agreed to meet for a couple of hours before the bar hopping began. "Frank," she called. "Are you here?" When he didn't respond, she went into the kitchen. She didn't find him in there, either. She turned to make her way toward the bedroom, but Donovan's body blocked her way. She yelped out in surprise. "God, Frank, I wish you wouldn't do that," she cried out.
He said nothing. Instead, he drew her against him and kissed her hungrily. She moaned a little and wrapped her arms around him. It had been all of six hours since he last kissed her, but it felt like centuries. He couldn't get enough. They hastily discarded just enough clothing to suit their fevered need. He backed her against the kitchen wall as her arms and legs enveloped him. Within seconds, he was inside her, his soul touching hers, their hearts beating as one.
* * *
"Isn't that the couple we saw before," Zara asked as she eyed the man and woman seated five or six tables away.
Jake looked up. "Yes." He smiled a little as he watched his big bad boss acting like a schoolboy with his first serious girlfriend. They appeared to be unable to see anything around them. "That's them."
"Do you know them well?"
He shrugged. "Yeah, pretty well. Why are you so interested all of a sudden?"
She turned and looked at Jake. Smiling, she said, "If they're friends of yours, I'd like to meet them. They're at a table for four. Why don't we join them?"
Her sudden interest in Donovan and Loralei confused him. Normally, Zara didn't give one ripe fuck about anyone other than him and herself. "I don't think they're itching for company, baby. They probably would prefer to be left alone."
"Oh, come on, Jake," she whined. "Let's go over for a minute. If they get sick of us, we'll leave. Okay?"
He will kill me for this, I'm sure, he thought. "Okay."
Donovan and Loralei looked up curiously as Jake and his bottle job girlfriend approached their table. "I insisted on him bringing me over here," Zara said. "I wanted to meet Jake's friends. Do you mind if we join you?"
They exchanged a look between them that clearly said, 'yes we mind.' However, Loralei shrugged. "Sure. Sit down." Donovan smiled a little at Loralei. She knew the smile. He would make her pay for this.
Zara took the chair beside Donovan and Jake sat next to Loralei. Donovan felt a tad uncomfortable sitting near the woman. It was a feeling he couldn't exactly explain. Her perfume was cloying. It seemed as if she had mixed two fragrances together. His sinuses had already begun to ache. After a moment, Loralei introduced herself and Donovan to Zara.
For a long time, Loralei stared at Zara. At first, she thought it was the bad dye job that had gotten her attention, but after awhile, she wasn't sure. She felt the same uncomfortable feeling that Donovan had experienced. It was bizarre. She seemed a little too friendly and immediately began digging into their personal histories. Paranoid, Loralei began to wonder if she were sitting with BHK. She purposely said something stupid so that Zara would laugh. There was no crooked front tooth.
Loralei glanced at Jake beside her. It wasn't hard to see that he was exhausted. She began to think about what she had read in the BHK file. Samantha Crump-Clawson had been hypersexual, as was Brianna Boggs-Thornton, Sheila Jackson-Simington, and Rebecca Howard-Ferrano. Her heart began to pound sickly in her chest. No, it can't be. I'm paranoid. Why wouldn't anyone else know before me? Why not Jake? Why not Frank? She pushed the thought out of her mind.
Zara watched Loralei carefully. Women sensed it before men. Women were intuitive to the point of knowing the exact moment when they had conceived a child where men wouldn't know until the rabbit died. She knew. She would have to die before she could blab to Jake. She couldn't have her cover blown by the smarmy lover of the fraud baron.
Donovan and Loralei left the restaurant before Jake and Zara. She had grown quiet and withdrawn. He lifted her hand and pressed it briefly to his lips. "Is something wrong?"
She glanced up at him. "I'm okay, Frank. Jake's girlfriend is…bizarre. I think we need to check her out."
Concerned, he stopped walking and pulled Loralei back to face him. "She fits the profile," he said, "but so do you."
She nodded. "I know, Frank, but my gut is telling me that something isn't right about her."
"I had bad vibes as well, but I think we might have just gotten a bad impression of her. Why would she go after Jake? He doesn't fit the victim profile at all."
She sighed. "You have a point, Frank. But I want to run her name anyway."
He nodded. "It's always best to follow your gut instinct."
"I'm probably wrong." I hope I'm wrong.
The two of them began walking back toward Donovan's apartment building. They were set to meet in less than an hour. Loralei was worried and upset. She was certain she had just allowed the Black Heart Killer to slip right past her.
