Author note: I have a reader here! Wow great, as you requested, here is another post.
Typical declaration: I don't own any of the characters, story, and series of Tarzan. Edgar Rice Burroughs and WB created them. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others. (At last that is what I hope).
This Dream: Chapter 2
Hesitatingly the latch spun and the office door shrieked when John stepped head. He would prefer to be elsewhere but there. This room didn't keep good memories for him.
He stood in front of his uncle's desk for several minutes. His cerulean eyes watched at the Richard's big chair, it had been designed to impress and to intimidate like the whole room. It screamed 'I'm the boss, fear me' How he hated it! "Well uncle I'm here, what are you gonna do?"
Behind his back Nash's authoritarian voice sounded saying, "Mr. Clayton the detectives are here." John turned scowling. That man was Richard's right hand, why was he announcing the policemen like a butler? John watched him intrigued. Patrick Nash was like a riddle, an unknowable and disconcerting person. Why had he worked to his uncle? He didn't know the answer, yet.
John surrounded the desk and sat down on the comfy chair that his uncle used to occupy and rolled it. He didn't bother to look at him when he said, "Ok Patrick," He deliberately used is first name,
"let them in."
"Ok Sir."
John perceived his disturbed tone and smiled. Taking the reins of that company would be a challenge for him, but he still didn't know if he wanted it or not. Through of the huge window the young Clayton contemplated the city bathed by the spring's solar beams. It wasn't his world.
He heard the door hiss when it opened up. "Mr. Clayton." A male voice called him. Reluctantly John turned to see a tall black man dressed faultlessly into a dark blue suit. "I'm Detective Sullivan."
The young Clayton tilted his head watching the open hand; he shook it then stated, "I thought that you were two detectives…"
He didn't finish the sentence when Nash angry voice screamed, "You can't be here!"
Detective Sullivan smirked. "Mmm My partner is searching some information in the next office."
"I'm sorry Mr. Nash but I have a warrant." John rose to his feet when he heard that voice. "So let me do my job please."
Sam Sullivan watched him walking outside smirking. 'Good bye gentleman, hello furious businessman…' But far from John's mind was to argue with the other detective. Tarzan's heart beat wildly, it could jump out in any second. Inside him both men, the civilized and the feral one, stared at the auburn feminine figure that held Nash against the wall. "You don't let me another option Mr. Nash," she said handcuffing him, "I will free you when I finish my job." She raised her defiant eyes waiting for Clayton objections but any sound could escape from his mouth. The emotion got tied up into his throat so he was unable to murmur even a single word.
Sam frowned watching his reactions, 'Is this man sappy?' the detective wondered, 'It seems that he knows her. But how? When? Where?' "Mister Clayton let me introduce you my partner, Jane Porter."
John's finger pinched hard his arm to make sure that he wasn't dreaming.
He could have hundred of willingly women throwing herself to his bed, but for him only one existed, his soul mate, and she was standing in front of him. Like dragged by powerful magnet he couldn't detach his eyes from her figure. In tone with his drumming heart his mind was happily humming a single phrase: 'She is here.'
Both detectives looked each other and start to laugh nervously. John couldn't help but blush. The situation was embarrassing but delightful.
Richard's faithful employee became furious seeing the Greystoke heir's reaction. "What are you, a teenager? Control your hormones, man!" Nash's angriest voice took John out of his daydream's state bringing him again to the reality.
He shook his head taking him several second to remember what he was doing. "Oh! Yeah. Why couldn't they enter into that office?" Of course Nash held his mouth shut. The notion that his uncle hid something inside that room impelled him to seize the latch. The door was locked. "Patrick," he commanded, "Open the door." Jane loosened her grip letting the man came closer to the door.
"Open it up." John repeated.
'Damn cops.' Nash hesitated. Inside this room was information that the imbecile nephew shouldn't know. "I don't have the key Mister Clayton."
The ironic smile was observed by the young heir. The man standing in front of Nash wasn't the John Clayton Jr. that he had once knew, that person had disappeared long time ago. "Ok." It was Tarzan who stepped back saying, "As you wish." His shoe furrowed the air impacting against the wooden surface. The door cracked and it didn't resist the second lunge. The impact fractured the wood around the hinges. After the third kick the surface broke and fell loudly. "We don't need the key any more." Mockingly he assured. "Thank you Mr. Nash, you can go now." Then he made a reverence. "After you mademoiselle."
Sam could not hold his laughter. His partner's face was priceless. He slapped the shoulder of the surprising wealthy man. "Well, evidently you know how to impress a policewoman." Laughing he move his shoe pushing aside the pieces of the broken door. "With that gallantry gesture she won't be been able to refuse to have dinner with you…"
She elbowed him hard when she passed near him. "Sorry Mr. Clayton, please don't pay attention to my partner foolishness." But John's twilling eyes showed her clearly that he liked Sam's idea.
An openmouthed Nash saw them enter into the room. Now he could not stop the events that will happen. The best course of action was to run way as soon as possible so he can save his life.
The room was practically empty except for one desk, two chairs and a big computer in the middle. It was cold inside.
John brought one of the chairs near the computer, "Please Detective Porter make it easy on your self. I'll stay with you to make sure no one interrupts your search." He assured sitting beside her.
'Of course,' Sam beamed learning his back on the opposite wall. He folded his arms in front of his chest studied the peculiar couple calmly. He had always listened to his guts and right now his guts recommended him to leave them alone. But he should act naturally so Jane didn't panic. 'Somewhere a window is opening when your heart's door closes.' And that door had a name, Michael Foster.
The black man sighed noiselessly. She was hurt, deeply hurt and the explanation was brutally simple. She found her boyfriend bedded with another woman in the bed of the apartment that both had rented to live together. He couldn't blame her, it made her shut inside herself. She became distrustful of any man that approached to her. It still hurt painfully into her heart. But there was a light into her dark, a long haired blond light. 'Nothing better than a fervent admirer to lift a woman's fallen-ego…' He considered, 'and God knows that she needs it desperately. Probably her ego would be more than five yards underground.' He observed how they work together. There was something undecipherable among them. He could not say what it was but he could feel it surrounding them.
As she searched in to the system a name came out quickly, "Abruzzi! That is not good for you Mister Clayton."
John shrugged. "Who is Abruzzi?" Detective Porter rolled her eyes, or this man was an exceptional actor or indeed he didn't know what she was talking about. He perceived the doubt on her face expression. "I'm just come back, yesterday at night, and I have not stepped into this building for ten years."
"Mr. Clayton, you don't need to walk through this building to know what happens…" she argued, "The Abruzzi is a powerful mob family and to have business with them implies that your company can be involved in several federal crimes." Although her speech was dictated for her conscious brain, her heart sensed something different from him.
Why the man seated near her made her feel so trustful? Again she dove into the screen page but she felt the insistent gaze of him on her. It was exciting and perturbing at the same time. She not even dared to ogle his perfect features because she would meet his incredible cerulean eyes gazing at her.
He didn't fit at all with the image that she had of the typical insipid millionaire. In fact she expected a selfish brat but she found a fascinating man that perspired masculinity for each pore of his body. Oh God! He was the nearest thing to perfection she had ever seen with his long blond hair, his expressive sapphire eyes and his attractive incipient beard. 'Stop girl! Focus you in your job," she commanded herself unsuccessfully. 'Don't look how his shirt molds perfectly his muscular chest and his arms… How will it be to feel his arms around my… Stop it now girl. You must focus into your job, don't look at the breathtaking man near you.' But she eyed his smile. 'Why he is smiling? He couldn't know what she was thinking, no way. She fought to grab control of her raging hormones.
"I think you have everything under control." Sam's voice sounded to her ears like an unpleasant mock. "I'm sure Mr. Clayton will give you willingly all you need." She spun her head as her eyes yelling hundred of insults to her partner. He beamed understanding very well the massage of her fuming eyes, "You can send me an e-mail with the relevant details of your search. I'll go to speak with the forensic regarding the Mr. Clayton's uncle autopsy." He said walking to the broken door.
"Nice to meet you… Mr. Clayton."
John smiled seeing him disappear. "Nice guy…"
"Mr. Clayton…"
"Please, call me John." He requested although the name he wanted to hear from her lips was another name, one that began with T.
She hesitated but conceded, "Ok… John."
Before she could say another word he picked up his cell-phone, "Certainly we will be here for a long time." He pressed a button, "Perkins. Yes it's me. Could you bring an orange juice and..." She startled when he said. "…black coffee without sugar, right?" She nodded and he beamed, she was his Jane. She must be, it was his first test and she passed. "Please bring us some cookies, almond-shaped preferably. We are in the office near Richard's." Then he hung the phone.
She frowned without been able to hide her suspicion. It was odd that he knew how she likes the coffee, but how was it possible that he could know what kind of cookies she likes?
