A Witch and Her Man (Jeff and Gail) (4 page)

"Oomph," the man grunted in surprise as the round punched him back and sent him tumbling off the steps. Just then, Gail's bedroom door opened. In a voice thick with sleep, she asked, "What was that noise..."

Jeff scrambled to his feet and dashed across the intervening space. He tackled Gail to the floor and covered her body with his own just as two more bullets splintered the bedroom door above.

"Shhh, keep quiet and stay down," Jeff ordered in a low, terse voice

There was a commotion at the front door and the assailant vanished.

"Stay here and keep low," Jeff growled again at the terrified and now fully awake Gail.

He crawled across the floor, grabbed an extra magazine and peeked outside just in time to see two men scrambling into a car. One of the men was holding his chest and staggering. For just a moment, the streetlight illuminated them and Jeff saw both were wearing police uniforms. At first glance, the car appeared to be a police cruiser but to his educated eye it was not. It was the wrong make and model. Both men scrambled into the auto and it sped away, tires squealing.

Jeff leapt to his feet and began to shoot at the receding car. The loud reports of his gun shattered the early morning stillness. Jeff's lips tightened in satisfaction when he saw the back window of the fleeing car explode into tiny pieces. Bullets continued to pepper the car as he emptied his entire twelve round clip into it. The car rounded the corner and was lost to view. Without even thinking, Jeff ejected the spent magazine, slid in a fresh one and chambered a round.

He turned just in time to be assaulted by the terrified woman who threw herself into his arms. He held the still smoking pistol away from her while wrapping his free arm around her. "I thought I told you to stay put and stay down," he growled. His voice softened. "Are you ok?"

"Yes, at least I think so. Are you?"

"I'm fine," he started then noticed she was completely nude. Gently, he forced her back into the house. Lights in the neighborhood had begun to come on.

"Get dressed. I'm sure we're going to have company soon," he said in a calm voice that belied his actual feelings at seeing her this way.

Gail looked down at herself and her eyes filled with horror when she realized she was nude. With a tiny shriek, she placed one arm over her breasts and a hand over her sex. She dashed across the living room, into her bedroom and closed the door. He shook his head and grinned.

Minutes later, a squad car rounded the corner with lights flashing. Jeff placed his gun on the coffee table and flipped on the porch light. When the squad car approached, he stepped out on the porch with his hands in the air. The police car pulled to the curb and two officers cautiously approached with guns drawn.

The officers gazed around warily then focused attention on him. "I'm not armed. My pistol is on the table inside," Jeff said. One of the uniformed officers approached while the other remained behind to provide cover. "My name is Jeff Larkin. I'm reaching into my pocket to get my identification, officer."

"Slowly," the man advised and moved closer.

With two fingers, he handed the police officer his wallet. The officer stepped back to a safe distance and spoke to his partner. "Watch him."

"Watching," his partner answered.

The officer holding his wallet found Jeff's id and radioed in the information. Jeff knew he had checked out when the man lowered his weapon. "His papers are in order. He's a PI and has a license to carry," he said to his partner. The two men came close and while one hung back the other took his statement. Gail, now dressed, also joined them on the porch and gave her statement. The officer's radio buzzed for attention and he stepped away to answer.

In his absence, Gail looked up at Jeff and stammered quietly, "I'm sorry I didn't follow your orders to stay down and... and... I'm sorry for my being nude."

"The important thing is you're all right. I hope you got enough rest, because I don't think we're going to get more until later this morning." They had just finished speaking when the officer rejoined them.

Another car pulled up just as the officer completed filling out his report. An investigating team piled out of the car and began checking the crime scene. They searched inside the house and carelessly retrieved slugs from the couch and door. After stepping in it, one of the investigators took samples of the blood on the sidewalk. He watched them from Gail's porch in disgust. "Damned sloppy," he mumbled under his breath. One of the investigators sauntered his way. The expression on the man's face was one of arrogance and contempt.

His walk alone raises my blood pressure,
Jeff thought
. I was more impressed with the uniformed cops than this bozo.

The suited man scratched his head. "I need to verify something Mr. PI Larkin," the investigator sneered at him. "You said you fired a whole clip at the car as it was speeding away?"

Sometimes I hate when my first impressions prove right.
"Yes, a twelve round clip. I hit one of the intruders with one but I shot the remaining eleven into the car. Why?"

"Well, it's just that we've been unable to find any stray rounds from your weapon."

"I think you got my statement a little wrong, detective. I said I fired the remaining rounds into the car, not at the car. I hit what I aim at," he told him smugly. "If and when you find the car, you'll find all eleven rounds."
I can play the arrogance game too.

The investigator harrumphed. "And you said the two men were wearing police uniforms?"

"That's what I said, but I've never heard of police using silencers, so I doubt you'll find they're members of the force. What about the slugs you retrieved from in here? Think you'll find any leads there?"

The investigator shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Jeff was sure it was because the man was used to asking questions and not answering them.

At last he said, "I doubt it. More than likely the gun wasn't registered."

"Imagine that. Officer, is there anything else? Otherwise I have things to do," he said in a dismissive voice. He intended on doing his own investigating and was sure his would be much more thorough.

"Not at this time…" the investigator started.

"Are you finished inside?"

"For now…" the investigator started again.

"Good night then." Jeff turned on his heel, walked into Gail's house and closed the door. He was not overly impressed with the police force. He knew there was a slim possibility they would ever find the car, much less the men. When he turned from the door, Gail was standing behind him.

"You hit that car eleven times while it was speeding away in the dark?" she asked with incredulity in her voice.

"Yes, although I wish I had one of my rifles, then the car would have never gotten away."

"Cocky, aren't you?" she teased.

"Not cocky, confident. As I told you before, I'm damn good at what I do. Shooting is one of those things," he answered matter-of-factly.

"I can't afford it," Gail said. "I can't even afford to pay you. I'm just a poor working woman."

"Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it."

"I can't allow…"

"You can and you will. Don't argue." Jeff opened his phone and started making calls, ending the conversation.

In exasperation she turned and walked away, saying over her shoulder, "I'll be in the kitchen. I'll pour you a glass of lemonade if you care for some… sir!"

Hours later, a flurry of activity began. She watched as her house was transformed. By the end of the day she had new door locks and the latest in alarms protecting all entrances, including windows.

Walking around her house, he pointed out the motion activated floodlights. "If someone tries to approach at night, this place is going to light up like a Christmas tree. If they try to get in, alarms are going to go off that are loud enough to wake the dead."

"I don't know what to say."

"How about thanks? That will do. Now, if you'll excuse me." He walked into the other room and made a call. Though his tone was low, she caught snippets of his conversation.

"…I know it's highly irregular but that is the number you'll contact if the alarm is tripped. Not the police." He was silent while the person at the other end talked. Jeff responded, "With the money I'm paying, don't argue. Do we need the okay of your supervisor?" Again a pause. "I thought not." He ended the conversation and dialed another number.

Again, though she listened intently, she only heard part of the conversation. Jeff carefully avoided mentioning a name. He talked about a package he was sending with blood samples, fingerprints and a hair sample. He named the local police department and something about tapping into the system to get a ballistics report.

She entered the living room and he turned to face her.

"Who was that?" she asked.

He looked at her as if debating how much information to provide. "You were eavesdropping?"

"My house. Besides, the last time I checked, you work for me and your conversations concerned me."

He chuckled. "Fair enough. The first, as you no doubt surmised, was the alarm company. The second was no one you need to be concerned with. Let's just say we should know the identities of last night's attackers soon, along with other details about them."

"I'm impressed. My house has been transformed into a regular
Fort
Knox
. Do you afford all your clients such attention with lavish personal expenditures?"

Jeff gave her an ambiguous look. "No."

Not satisfied with a simple 'no', she dug for more information. "So am I to believe that maybe I'm a special case?"

"Yes, you are."

"Special in what way?"

"I know where you're going with this interrogation, Gail. You're digging to find out if I care about you personally. You're special to me. That is the end of this conversation." With a frown, he walked away from her to attend to the final details of her alarm installation.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
He hates to admit it, but he cares. Does he care for me because he considers me a woman in need or does he care for me in other ways?

The last installation tech left. She handed Jeff a plate of food. "So, what now?"

"Now we wait for the information I requested. In the meantime, we see if they make another move."

****

Several weeks went by with no more incidents. No more phone calls. Nothing. Gail worked out on the stair-climber and watched Jeff on the treadmill. Not even breathing hard, she opened the conversation. "Jeff, other than when you go out back during my rituals and when I'm at work, we spend every waking moment together. I was just wondering…"

"Yeah, you were just wondering. Go on," he said in a deep, rich voice.

"I mean we're together twenty-four-seven other than the times I mentioned and when I'm sleeping…"

"How else can I watch over you?" he interrupted.

"I understand that. It's just that… Monica came over to me at break last night, and she hasn't been the first. She came over and asked when I was going to introduce them to my new boyfriend. I was at a loss as to what to say. I don't want to tell them about the threats on my life. I just shrugged, smiled, and didn't say anything. What should I tell them?"

"You're resourceful, tell them anything you want," he evaded.

Exasperating man.

"The thing is, I don't find that an unappealing thought." She climbed off the machine. "So could we be?"

"What thought? Could we be what?"

She stomped her foot. "You aren't going to make this easy for me at all, are you?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. You're my employer."

With a "Humph," she stormed out of the room and could not help but hear his chuckle behind her, which added to her frustration.

After slamming her bedroom door she stood fuming under the streaming shower and had a heated conversation with herself. "I've prayed to the Goddess and performed spells. Ones aimed at letting you see I would be willing for our relationship to go further than it has to this point. Nothing! You're always a damn perfect gentleman, never making any type of advance on me. I like the way you take charge. I love that you're always so nice to me and so polite. That winning smile of yours sweeps me off my feet. I'd like to know more about you but you seem to evade it every time I try to learn more. I like you, mystery man, are you too blind to see that?"

She got dressed, taking her frustrations out on the dresser drawers and putting on the least sexy outfit she could find. As she went to the kitchen she heard the shower come on in the other room.

I hope I didn't leave any hot water for you, shit-head.
Counting to ten and taking a deep breath, she calmed herself. Soon she had finished making sandwiches and set his plate on the table.

"So what now?" she asked herself.

"Are you asking me?" Jeff said from the doorway, making her nearly jump out of her skin.

She swallowed and took a moment to regain her composure. "Jeff, have you ever been married?"

"No."

"Ever had a girlfriend?" she smiled as amiably as she could.

He cocked an eyebrow and chuckled. "Yes."

"You're not giving me much information here with one word answers."

"No."

Damn you, you frustrating man.
She decided to switch to another subject since questions about his love life seemed to be getting nowhere. "Were you ever in law enforcement? I don't want a one word answer either."

"No, I've never been a cop. I have a lot of friends who are, but never been one myself. I was in the army and after that, the CIA."

"Now we're getting somewhere. What did you do in the army and CIA?"

"Does it matter?"

It took most of her will to keep from stamping her foot in exasperation. "Yes, it matters. I want to know more about you. How else can I find out if you won't tell me?" she asked impatiently.

"I don't want to frighten you."

She looked into his eyes and saw a very troubled look in them. "What? Were you a spy or something?" she asked jokingly.

"Or something," he hesitated.

She dropped her head and sighed. "A man of many secrets. Perhaps you just don't like my company enough to let loose a little." It was not like her to doubt herself this way, but this man drove her to her limits.

His face turned into a scowl. It was as though her words caused something to snap. Angrily, he strode to her, grabbed her arms and shook her. "Gail, I killed people. I was an assassin. Okay? Is that what you wanted to learn? What do you say to that, huh?" He quickly released her and sat in front of his plate.

She joined him at the table and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. From the set of his jaw and the irritation that flashed in his eyes, she knew he would not discuss this subject any further. Purposely changing the topic, she asked, "Ever been in love?"

He shook his head. "You insist on asking about things that are uncomfortable for me. To answer your question, yes. Twice. The first one ran off, taking a good share of my funds with her. The second… didn't end up well."

"Didn't end up well, as in she broke your heart when you broke up? Is she around here?"

It was his turn to sigh in exasperation. "She's dead, Gail. And no, I didn't kill her. This conversation sucks. I need to go check on things outside." He scooted his chair back and left the room hurriedly, as if he could not bear to stay.

She sat there staring at his empty place, the uneaten sandwich staring back at her. A shudder passed through her as the words "assassin" and "dead girlfriend" played through her mind.

"Do I really want to get involved with him?" As soon as she breathed the question, she knew the answer. "Yes."

She had no doubts about it. Her intuition told her he was an honorable man and she always trusted her intuition. It was time to try a little harder.

****

Gail began leaving her bedroom door open - accidentally, of course - and coming out of the shower wearing nothing but a towel. When that did not work, she began to take the towel off and lay it on her bed while she sauntered over to her dresser to put on her panties and bra. All the while she pretended to be unaware of the open door or the fact he was sitting on the couch in plain view.

Nothing. Zip. Nada.

Her choice of panties changed from plain cotton to thongs and the same applied to the bras as they progressively became more suggestive, accenting her assets and forming more cleavage. Her dresses also became more scanty and risqué.

Still nothing.

Though he was careful to hide it, Gail's brazen display of herself in the nude and her provocative dress was having an effect. A time or two she heard his groans of frustration and desire. Smiling at what he would surely term her resourcefulness, she stuck to her plan and waited.

****

God damn it Gail, close your fucking bedroom door! You're driving me crazy, woman.
With Gail flaunting herself at him every chance she got, tempting him to the edge of endurance, it was becoming more and more difficult to keep their relationship strictly business.

His friends were checking everything they could in the ongoing investigation. There was no trace of the missing car or the two assailants driving it. Nothing on the missing Shorty either. To no surprise, the bullets fired in the assault led nowhere. Everything was coming up a big, fat zero. One of his friends involved with the investigation warned, "Be careful Jeff, I can't put my finger on it, but something stinks."

Contrary to his secret wish, Gail stepped up her seductive attacks. She started wearing shorts to their daily exercises that were so tight they looked as if they had been spray painted on. She wore skimpy halter or bra tops that left little to the imagination. It was going to be one hell of a challenge to keep his hands off her.

****

Three weeks went by and still nothing. When she came out from work one night, he was sure his agitation was apparent. Her first question confirmed his suspicions.

"Something's wrong. What?" she asked when they got into the car.

"They found Shorty today."