Casey Manning stretched his long legs and aching back muscles. The business negotiations had rolled over into the predawn of the morning. Casey smiled half heartedly as he remembered Perry Manning's favorite axiom, "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer." Casey had admired his father as a business man, but never as a father. Hugs and public displays of affection were for close friends and lovers exclusively. Casey was neither to Perry Manning. Casey viewed him as a worthy opponent, he kept him close. Casey dragged into the navy limoscene began scanning the newspaper only going through the motions.
"You can't kid a kidder." Was another of his dad's sayings. "Why is my dad on my mind? I haven't spoken with him in months." Casey smirked. Casey called Mary Connell and asked her to meet him in the lobby of the Montecito Casino. He needed something different to do to end his boredom. Casey really craved doing anything with his estranged wife, Samantha.
Mary said, "Meet me at the Victoria Secret shop. It's just a couple of blocks away from where you are now." He knew the shop well because he had purchased it two days before for less than he paid for several suits. It was an impulse buy. He had inadvertently learned from Mary that Samantha adored the lingerie and that was enough for him. Mary talked about her day. Casey smiled in all the appropriate places and nodded when expected. Visions of Samantha wearing the outfits that Mary eagerly showed him materialized in his head. He was enthralled with everything Samantha. As the driver pulled into Casey's reserved parking space in the front of the casino Casey hated to admit it but he was relieved to escape Mary's chatter.
As the chauffeur opened the door of the sound proof car, the sound of police sirens blared outside of the packed Casino. Casey Manning maneuvered Mary through the labyrinth of police officers and plain clothes detectives, forensic experts as well as the bottom feeders from the newspapers and television stations. Casey held Mary's right hand for a moment to prevent her from crashing into the gurney with the black dull body bag. The bag's silver zipper reflected onto a beam of sunlight. The bright beam landed in the middle of a silver button on Casey's muted grey Armani suit. It was as if the finger of God had pointed him as the murderer.
Mary smiled weakly, tossed her blonde hair back over her shoulder and mouthed "Thank you." to Casey. Casey winked. Mary felt faint. She knew that the wink was an involuntary reflex whenever this handsome hunk of raw maleness saw a pretty face.
Mary sighed, "He probably winks at female dogs and cats. He saves that megawatt smile for her that female swine of a barracuda," Mary chuckled at her mixed metaphor as she envisioned Samantha Jane Marquez Manning swimming in predatory circles with the body of a fish and the ears of a pig. Her next victim was a defenseless blonde infant. Mary knew that Sam would devour an infant and its mother it meant that she would win a bet or help her bed a man. Casey saw the wicked grim on Mary's lips and thought of how much he despised the game they were playing.
He appreciated Mary Connell, "Connell's a sweet kid who is obsessive about two expensive commodities men and shoes. Maybe I'll buy her a couple of the Mar Lou's shoe store franchises before its all said and done," Casey started his daily ritual with a sigh.
He scanned the casino's lobby looking for Samantha, his only love his wife. Their supposed divorce meant less than nothing to him. Sam, as the rest of the world called her, was a petite second generation Hispanic. She held both of Casey's heads in her hands. She spoke Spanish but only on rare occasions. Sam considered Spanish the language of God and her Dad. Jose' Miguel Marquez, her father, had been killed in a freak accident. The police had mistaken him for a Fiji jewelry thief.
The fact that Mr. Marquez was dressed in an expensive suit, had the keys to the store in his hand, it was 9:00 in morning on the first day of summer did not sway the coroner nor the judge or jurors. Although she had never admitted it to anyone, Samantha valued fitting into the majority more than she did fighting what she perceived to be a lost cause. Shortly before they married Samantha legally changed her name from Sangria Gabriella to its current waspish version. Casey thought Samantha was Italian until his dad's hired gun, Mr. Rupert Pickerton, arrogantly showed him the extensive background report he had compiled.
"Since Samantha has waited over five years to file for divorce proceedings, perhaps she had just called my bluff, but couldn't actually go through with legally dissolving the marriage." Casey again prayed fervently that was the case.
He and Mary had agreed to try to make Samantha so jealous that she would come to her senses or murder Casey or Mary or both. The sunshine found his wife first. Her small bust line bouncing in her red V-neck tight cashmere sweater with matching cropped leather pants made Casey gulp. He wanted to take her right there on the stair case. He folded his hands in front of him to hide his reaction to her stunning beauty.
At first Mary watched Casey gawk at Sam from the corner of her eye. Then she turned facing him head on. He didn't notice. It was if he was using super vision to look through her. She knew why he had folded his hands and looked down at the navy blue carpet. She had seen him attempt to cover his feelings hundreds of time in the past. Mary felt the stab of pain in her gut. She felt betrayed by Casey although she had no right to feel that way. Originally she had deceived herself. Now she knew she was lying to Casey as well as to herself. "Casey, honey I think its time for act two, cooed Mary into Casey's ear. She pulled him into a kiss. Casey refused to let her deepen it.
"Why don't you two get a room, why don't ya? teased Sam. Casey cringed inside.
"What's up anyway? Did the police raid my favorite private male strip show in room 700 again? asked Sam innocently.
"What private male strip show? What do mean your favorite?" No wife of mine would watch some other guy strip down to his G-string. I provide all the entertainment she needs." Casey said emphatically.
"Do you know who you sound like?" Samantha joked pointing her manicured red nail into Casey's chest. Her black eyes ablaze with affection for him.
"Perry Manning," Casey and Samantha said in unison. They gave each other a brief kiss and held each other giggling. Mary knew that both had drifted back into the automaticity of a contently married couple. Mary pushed her long blonde hair back and walked quietly into the elevator.
"Casey Manning," said a tall black man with a slight British accent.
Casey wasn't sure if the man was asking a question or stating a fact.
"How may I help you sir?" said Casey radiating into his consummate business man smile.
"You're under arrest for the murder of Woody Hoyt. You have the right to remain silent….You have a right to an attorney….anything you say may be used against you," Casey heard the police detective but his words melted into heavy meaningless lumps of verbiage. Casey had not been arrested in his life. Perry Xavier Manning had made it his business to protect his son at all costs. Scandal was not good for his sacrosanct bottom line.
"There's been some mistake, some error…I was in a business meeting all night, Casey felt fear for the first time since he was ten years old when he had broken his mother's maid's Waterford lamp. Waiting for Samantha to agree to marry him was the second. Denial of nourishment, slumber, conversation, the natural affection of a woman, or any other form of companionship were irrelevant by comparison to seven days of waiting for his blessed completion from emptiness to fullness. Casey would have traded his birth right for her softly spoken, 'Yes, I will marry you.' Casey had prayed to gain wealth when those words were birthed from the Lord's sweet mercy to her lips. Braille, sign language, other languages, any and all those he would have mastered for the woman who was the only one who could restore his earthly joy.
"Call Mr. Pickerton, tell him to meet at the Police Station. He better be there before I get there. Everything will be okay. I love you no matter what. I been in worst jams than this," Casey smiled his lopsided smile and kissed his wife until the police officer pulled him away from her. "Yo say. I know Casey. I love you. You're not getting rid of me that easily," Samantha popped out her purple Razor cell phone dialing Pickerton.
"Mr. Pickerman, Casey is in trouble. He needs us," Samantha ran to her black and silver Bugatti Veyron as she told the sleuth the few details she knew.
Mike Connor was just coming on duty. He had secretly performed as a stripper at the private party in room 700. He had earned $2,000 toward his Lexus. He needed a mere $4,000 more to pay for the car in cash. Holding his hands over his head as if he were preparing to dive, Mike gyrated lewdly. His keys jingled as he did so. "That's it…Jack was right. All I had to do was imagine doing….," Mike saw Samantha sitting in her obscenely expensive car with her head resting on the steering wheel crying. "Sam, Sam, what's up?" he asked tapping on the car's tinted window. "Something happened to Casey?" her tears persisted.
"How… did… you… know? ….it was …my husband?" gulped Samantha in between sobs. Removing her smeared was quickly accomplished with the aide of Mike's crisp handkerchief.
"Come on Sam. We all know about that lame green eyed monster triangle you, Mary and Casey have going. Its crystal," Mike rolled his eyes, took Samantha's keys sliding into the driver's seat. Samantha had one of only two Bugatti Veyron with gold plated fenders that Mike knew of in the world. The second was kept in Casey Manning's garage for driving on Tuesdays on his rare trips to his villa in southern Italy. Mike drove piecing together the details of his boss. "How could a street smart babe like Sam, not sit back and enjoy being the number one squeeze of a rich man like Casey?' thought Mike. "Hell even I think that Casey is a keeper, not that I butter my toast that way." pondered Mike.
"Mike, thank you. We can't thank you enough, Samantha smiled at Mike. Mike smiled back even he wasn't immune to Sam's charms.
"You can keep the car; I'm in no condition to drive now. I'll catch a ride back with Mr. Pickerton or someone," Sam took off her blood red stilettos to run up the Police Station steps.
"I knew she loves that man. In seven years I've never seen Sam in public without make-up or three inch heels," Mike ran his hand along the black walnut steering while smiling wickedly. "Don't worry Miss Mercedes, I'm still faithful. I just need to just show Miss Bugatti a really good time." Mike flew down the highway peeling rubber.
Casey pulled his father into a bear hug. "Thanks dad. I apologize for interrupting your business in Moscow," said Casey looking at the floor like a child fearing punishment.
"Casey, you don't have to apologize or hug me. You're my son. You needed me I came. Let's not speak of it again." Perry commented curtly. Perry looked at his son and he saw the fear hanging on him like a cape. The smell of fear held it there securely. Its acidity burned his nostrils. Perry knew the stench like all successful predatory business people. He had not raised him to fear. I should have done more… to raise him period…he's prospered in spite of me." confessed Perry Manning to himself. He straightened his tie and adjusted his shirt cuffs uncomfortably. He strode regally down the long corridor which was filled with prostitutes, drunk and disorderly citizens and tourists. An amazingly buxom woman poured into a thigh high black dress with shoulders larger than his own winked at Casey while reaching for him. "Can you change a Benjamin, Mr. Hard as a Rock Business Man? You look good enough for me to pay you." Casey shook his head no while stepping closer to his dad. Casey smirked as he saw the 'woman's' five o'clock shadow.
"I'll have my man Pickerton continue the investigation. I think Brocatelle is available or would you prefer Omani and Weston? We suffered tragically
when we lost Johnnie Cochran. Tell Pickerton to take care of you son. Call me if you need me," Perry folded a check for $700,000 into his son's pocket and firmly shook his hand.
"I don't need your money dad. I'm a billionaire you know." commented Casey. What he needed was his father's take no prisoners kind of strength and Casey didn't even know how to ask for it. He could not purchase it outright even with his billions. He could not decipher the code even though the navy had certified him as an expert in the field. He knew his Dad did not know to give it even though Perry Manning was known for his philanthropy.
"I know son. I've always been proud of you. You'll make some real money before you know it," said Perry beaming with pride for his son. Perry clapped his son on the back. Casey heard the helicopter as it landed in the middle of the highway. Perry ran down the Las Vegas Police Station's steps, hopped into his helicopter. Gave a quick kiss to Mrs. Manning number five. Casey shook his head at his Dad's weakness with women and prayed that Samantha would be his only wife. From the air, Perry's heart turned to stone, his brow frowned as he watched Sangria Gabriella run barefoot up the police steps to kiss his son. He started to command the pilot to turn back when Mrs. Manning kissed him and ran her hands along side his thighs. She thought that the woman below was a woman after her own heart attempting to play the Manning men for fools. She had tried the same scheme, but Casey Manning had threatened to eliminate her personally in front of witnesses. They both knew that if Casey Manning murdered a woman like her that he would never see the inside of a jail much less serve a moment in prison.
"Come on honey, everything's okay. Just like I promised," Casey kissed his wife thanking the Lord that she was in his world. He wished he could fly his wife to a serene timeless realm that kept everything unpleasant from them. He held Samantha around her waist and walked down the steps. They stepped into his white sleek limoscene.
"Good afternoon Mr. and Mrs. Manning let me introduce your legal representatives, Mr. Omani, from Nigeria and Mr. Weston, from New England. Casey and Samantha shook their hands seated in the Hummer stretched limoscene. The tall uniformed buxom chauffeur tipped her hat and scampered into the driver's seat. Samantha listened as the sound proof and bullet proof shield eased shut separating the chauffeur from them. Casey confidently told them the facts of the case. Both men taped the discussion. Omani suggested that it would be prudent for them to be dropped off a block away from the Montecito. Weston concurred. Casey nodded in agreement.
Casey held Samantha's hand until the limo eased into the manicured estate of her husband. Samantha smiled secretly as she read the words 'Yo quiero Sangria' hanging from the wrought iron gate. Samantha knew that Casey would expect his wife to perform her wifely duties in his palatial bedroom. She loved him but she feared losing another man she loved as much as she had loved her dad. Samantha knew that her husband was afraid. She had been in the gambling business long enough to sense fear from a distance.
Casey, honey…I can't stay. I want to but…ahhh..I," Samantha knew she was a chatterbox, but the disappointment mingled with fear in his eyes quieted her.
"Yo quiero usted mucho, Sangria. No pressure I'll sleep in the other wing if you insist. I think it has another zip code," Casey grinned. "Please I don't want to be alone tonight. I don't think ….I can handle it. I'm use to success…. not aprensión. I'll beg if you like…I call my dad and ask him to beg you if you want. Just stay tonight, please," Casey remember how he and Samantha spent the first night of their honeymoon speaking Spanish to each other.
"Casey you have a staff of fifty people who wait on you twenty four hours a day. You can't be alone in that….double mansion…if you tried," Samantha knew that she would lose the argument, but enjoyed the banter.
"Sixty three. I bought seven mansions to make this one home for you. One from each continent," Casey pushed his platinum wedding band round his large finger avoiding his wife's gaze. He had commissioned a duplicate immediately after he given her the less expensive original.
"You never told me that….It still doesn't mean you own me." Samantha's anger grew the longer she thought about her husband's assumptions.
"Sangria I would have purchased Nevada if I thought it would make you give me a kiss on the cheek," Casey was livid. "I need you Sangria Gabrielle Marquez Manning. I told you I'd beg for you if you liked and I'm a man of my word," Casey dropped to his knees "Please don't leave me alone tonight. I'll follow only where you're willing to lead that's the beginning and the end of the deal. There are no strings attached, no fine print, hidden clauses or bait then switch tactics. I've seldom been on the losing end and honestly I have no one else I can admit that to and still feel like a man. Humble pie is pretty bitter the first time yet I'm begging you to stay with me tonight. You hold the royal flush. I fold," said Casey Manning humbly.
"Casey get up the servants will see you? The neighbors will see. Please get up," pleaded Samantha pulling him by the arms.
Casey smiled and screamed "I love Mrs. Sangria Gabrielle Marquez Manning. I'm on my knees begging her to make love to me in our bed tonight," Casey waved his arms laughing.
"You told me I could sleep in the other wing," scoffed Samantha.
"I lied," said Casey matter of factly.
"But to make amends why don't I give you a lift? He knew that Samantha had a quirky side that refused to be out done by any man in general and by him in particular.
"I see you haven't changed a bit," Samantha said seductively tossing off her long black over her shoulders. Samantha stood in front of Casey on her tip toes to kiss him. He lifted her petite frame from the ground returning her passion. She ran her fingers through his thick black hair. This sign of affection was all Casey needed. He kissed her savagely again and again. He felt blessed to be able to pick up his giggling wife swinging her over his right shoulder. She feigned anger as she hit him on his broad back with her fists.
"Good night. Hightower, Nigel." grinned Casey. "Good night, fellas," said Samantha lifting her head as Casey turned heading for the winding staircase. He dramatically kicked open their bedroom door. Samantha stretched out before him in their bed. The two became one once again.
Chapter 2
"Mr. Manning, sir. I so hate to disturb you but, you must flee. Mr. Pinkerton said to tell you and I quote that the 'jig is up and you need to get out of Dodge.' You really must go sir or be taken by the constable to the pokey," Mr. Hightower pleaded. Nigel stood nervously holding the car keys to the black sports car and a huge picnic basket. Nigel and Hightower had been unsure of what was appropriate for this sort of thing, but decided to pack what they thought their fellow Brit' hero James Bond would take with him on the lam. Hightower had placed their boss' casual attire in the smallest of the three Master bathrooms. Just in case Mrs. Manning was part of the get away, Nigel had pressed a matching outfit for her as well the trendy outfit next to Mr. Manning's.
Casey Manning trusted Hightower and Nigel with his life; they had raised him as he bounced from European boarding school to European boarding school. Casey was not willing to trust his wife's life to them, however. He walked to the black marble bathroom.
He knew that Samantha would not willingly let him leave alone. He made the difficult decision to go without her. Praying for strength, he shoved his hands into his snug jeans, placed the team autographed World Series New York Yankees ball cap on his head. Smirking as he put on the sunglasses that Pierce Bronson had worn during his first Bond film. He figured that his version of MoneyPenny and Q had the matching Aston Martin vehicle waiting for him. Casey folded a hastily written note to Nigel and Hightower on the marble night stand. He signed it, Thank You as Always. Mr. and Mrs. Shaken Not Stirred.
Casey heard the engine of the car purr as it awaited him. He looked up at the massive balcony outside their Master bedroom suite. He sighed relishing his memories of last night. The driver's door of the black new Aston Martin popped open.
"Good morning Bond, James Bond?" Samantha giggled. "Did you think I'd let you run away from home alone in those tight jeans with sexy sunglasses now did you?" questioned Samantha.
"This is serious Samantha. I forbid you to endanger your life for me, I have enough to lose. I can't add you to the ever growing list." demanded Casey. He crossed his arms across his chest and set his jaw. Easing into the driver's seat, he looked out the window to steel his resolve and hide his building fear. Even his hands had shaken while he dressed in the bathroom. Casey found small comfort that the collector's sunglasses hid the nervous twitch of his left eye.
"You know I always thought you looked more like Superman than Bond," scoffed Samantha "Why don't you think of me as a little piece of kryptonite," smiled Samantha as she rubbed his back. Casey did not respond.
"You're not my papá. I only had one and he's in Silent Tears Cemetery, area A lot 112. All I got was a sterile telephone call at age 14. Let me do what I can this time for the only other man I love," Samantha said coldly crossing her arms over her chest.
"Blamey sir and Madame, the Constable's and the bobbies are on their way." screamed Mr. Hightower over the car's radio. "You two had better scoot."
"Casey I think he means us." laughed Samantha nervously buckling her seat belt. Casey floored the gas pedal. Their heads jerked back as the car flew out of the driveway.
Chapter 3
"Do you think they bought it Big Ed?" asked the voice on the other end of the telephone loudspeaker.
"There's nothing as disarming as the truth," said Edward Delane confidently to Casey Manning. My sources say that the body was dressed in standard issue surveillance, you know the low level assassin's gear," said Ed as he bit into it relishing the strong wet leaves of the freshly cut end of a Cuban stogy.
"Mrs. Delane is still refusing to let you light one up is she?" chuckled Casey. He knew the sound of Ed's desk drawer creaking open.
"I've grown accustomed to a few things in my lifetime like breathing and sleeping with my wife. Did I say breathing? She knows guys who know guys," laughed Ed. "Speaking of Intel guys, I'm waiting to hear from some guys from the company. Something doesn't smell right. Woody was a tall man but the corpse is short. Just a little taller than Sam," laughed Ed.
"I heard and resent that," chimed in Sam on the other end of the loud speaker.
"I should have known…I hope you two aren't doing anything that I wouldn't do," laughed Ed. Holding the stogie out from him in admiration.
"Well that leaves a wide field for opportunities." chuckled Casey.
Chapter 4
"Well Madame, bugging devices do have their benefits, don't they?" Niles winked at Hightower smiling smugly. "Indeed they do Niles old man," confirmed Ness' Ice Queen' Holt as Hightower tapped off the surveillance equipment. Ness was the only Brit. Niles was from Harlem, New York. Sean Hightower was from a small hamlet in the Netherlands and yet the fake accent of both rang more authentic than Ness' cockney brogue.
"Time to tie up the loose ends. Keep it simple. These are yanks we're dealing with, no offense blokes." said Ness lighting up a Cuban stogie deeply inhaling the illegal contraband.
Chapter 5
"These are my sons, Mr. Manning." said Mr. Pickerton proudly of his sons. "This is Adam, Joseph and Benjamin Jose." Each handsome young man shook Casey's hand firmly.
"Excuse me I need to go to the umm balcony…ladies' room said Samantha holding her hand over her mouth as if she were going to puke. Casey knew that a fit of the giggles was the real culprit. Casey could almost hear the Bonanza theme song in the background.
"Joseph works part time in the forensic department. The body is not identified but is not Woodrow Elmer Hoyt," stated Joseph flatly. Casey guessed that Joseph was six feet two or three since he was slightly taller than he. He was walnut in color with a disarming smile and expensive suit for a working man, thought Casey accurately. Adam was the oldest and slightly taller than Joseph. He was confident and Casey thought that with the least bit of provocation, Adam would be arrogant. Benjamin Jose was six feet six or seven. He had the body of an athlete. His broad muscular shoulders and small waist spoke of years of successful participation in a myriad of sports. His megawatt smile reviled Casey's. Benjamin Jose's personality like that of his brothers won women's hearts regardless of race or age. Casey knew that he had to keep his wife away from this trio.
Casey knew that his billions guaranteed him many things with many women, but Samantha was the exception. Casey wanted to believe that these men held some evidence that would free him from his new found prison of terror. He had grown so petrified that he had his private jet at the ready just in case. He would fly the jet himself and go alone. Casey knew he would rather die running then be restricted for life in a cell. He was ashamed of his weakness but they made him acknowledge them.
"Thanks for the information Joseph, I appreciate it," smiled Casey.
"Adam is having a photograph of the operative faxed to you, Mr. Manning."
"Benjamin Jose motivated a young lady in the company to share the operative's background and finger prints. They came with the photographs. Our prayer, Mr. Manning is that within the hour you will be exonerated." said Mr. Pinkerton confidently handing Casey the operative's faxed photograph. Casey rocked back slightly placing the fax photograph face down. Joseph and Samantha saw him. Samantha slid her arm around her husband's waist.
"Please call me Casey, Mr. Pinkerton and your sons as well." Casey smiled.
"That will never do. It is not a question of money Mr. Manning; it is a matter of respect of position as it were. The respect falls to your father and therefore to you, his son." remarked Mr. Pinkerton. Sliding the faxes neatly in to a file folder, Joseph handed the file discreetly to Casey.
"Samantha would you hand me my keys. I think I left them in the …car, please honey? stammered Casey praying to keep his wife from seeing the photograph.
"Duh. There in your jean jacket pocket." said Samantha sarcastically and tugged the file from his hand. She took out the photograph. She knew that her husband was trying to hide something. Maybe he had found out that they were still legally married and that her bluster of ending their union months ago was just a sham. She boldly shoved the fax at him.
"It can't be him not after all these years. We buried him. I saw him on the cold slab. Casey tells me that this is some mistake." begged Samantha.
"Sangria, honey we'll get to the bottom of it," Casey hugged Samantha and pulled her to his chest. "Any ideas Mr. Pinkerton or anyone?" asked Casey looking at each one, respectively.
"He was sixty-five years old. He's was from the Fiji Islands. This was his second visit to the United States according to Interpol. His first was twenty years ago. His dental records confirm his identity. His passport his travel history.
"Who do you think he was? "queried Benjamin Jose.
"He's my father. I thought the police murdered him during a supposed robbery decades ago," Samantha said coldly.
"Unless you're father was a spy. I beg to differ with you, Mrs. Manning," said Adam diplomatically.
Casey looked at his wife hoping to give her some comfort and hugged her again, "Obviously he's the man for whom your dad was mistaken. Judging by your conviction, Mrs. Manning, there must have been an uncanny resemblance." offered Mr. Pinkerton.
"At least I know now." sighed Samantha "I'm going to have my father's record and reputation cleared. I won't let my father be known as jewelry thief." Samantha continued with anger. "I'm doing this alone Casey," Samantha said emphatically.
Chapter 5
Mr. Pickerton dutifully accompanied the Mannings to the police station. The trio submitted the Interpol documents and photographs. Casey was exonerated and released.
The Mannings decided to renew their vows in a church. To everyone's amazement Mary Connell served as Sangria's maid of honor. Samantha had listened to her father-in-law keeping her friends close and her enemy closer.
The End