The Hunt (Mike Greystone, Book 1) (25 page)

My thoughts ran over the most recent events. The shooting at St. Brigid School, the bomb in the coffee shop that nearly killed me, the bomb in Lauren's house, the attempt on my ex-wife's life, the fire in Lauren Wimbedon's parents' house, and today's operation. That was the hard part. On the other hand, I’d met Dr. Jane Lockerby. And hopefully helped Lauren Wimbledon's children too. That was a lot on my plate. I felt just a little overwhelmed and needed a break. The FBI guys were chatting incessantly. Nora was browsing something on her tablet. I thought I would call Jane when I was back in Philadelphia. Perhaps I would invite her for a weekend break. Or perhaps for a whole week? I finished my bourbon, feeling relaxation spreading throughout my limbs. I pressed the button to recline my seat and closed my eyes. It was still well over an hour to Philadelphia, so I had a nap.

45.

I woke up
when the pilot started extending the landing gear. It was somewhat windy that day, so the pilot had a little struggle to keep the plane level, and anyone not used to landing in strong winds might have felt nervous. The plane landed safely though.

I got into my car and drove home.

A quick shower after a long day. I had salmon darnes in the fridge, plus some broccoli and runner beans. I washed the fish and veg, put it into a steamer, added seasoning, and set it for 25 minutes. I grabbed a bottle of Leffe from the fridge and put another one in the freezer. I had too much whiskey recently. The Belgian monks who created Leffe beer must have been merry folk. It's nearly twice as strong, alcohol content-wise, as popular lagers. After a few of those, conversation in the monastery must have been flowing smoothly.

I heard a 'ding' from the steamer indicating that the food was ready. I didn’t like my fish or meat overcooked, as it killed the juice and flavor. After 25 minutes of steaming, the salmon was nicely moist and juicy, with plenty of natural flavor. You didn’t need too many spices, as salmon meat was delicious on its own. It was a pity though that it was hard to get wild salmon these days. You never knew what they fed salmon in industrial fish farms. I was sure it was not what a salmon would eat in its natural habitat. Without any further worries about salmon welfare, I sat at the table and had my dinner.

After dinner, I got another bottle of Leffe, this time properly chilled.

I sprawled on the sofa and called Jane.

"Hi Mike," she answered. "Nice to hear from you."

"Hi Jane, how are you today?" I asked.

"Doing well, and you?"

"Not too bad. Listen, I have some good news."

"Yeah?"

"Morgenthal was captured and he’s dead, you may have seen it already on TV."

"Good God,” she gasped, ”I'm so relieved. I haven't watched any TV yet, a crazy busy day at the hospital. I saw some bigwigs at an FBI conference on the canteen TV, but couldn’t hear what they were saying. I don't really have time for that at work. Tell me how it happened. Did you see it?"

"I was at the scene, but the FBI were running the show. It was as neat and clean as a routine surgical procedure," I said. Not entirely true, but I wanted to spare her the details of me chasing Morgenthal and shooting him like a fish in a pond, and more importantly of him trying to shoot me with a harpoon gun as if I was, well, a whale. "Everything ended well and there were no civilian casualties."

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that. This guy was a dangerous freak, and he nearly killed us."

"I know, it's over now. By the way, how are the young Wimbledons doing, John and Karrie?"

"They’re doing well, I'll tell them their father's killer is dead. And I'll let Lauren know as well," Jane said.

"She probably knows about it by now from the TV coverage, and the FBI or police will be in touch with her anyway," I added.

"Probably," Jane agreed. After a brief pause, "any new projects on the horizon? Are you doing anything tomorrow?"

"Nothing specific. Sounds like an invitation?" I asked.

"It is," she said smiling. "Will you come over?"

"Sure, I was hoping for an invitation. I'll take the first early flight tomorrow, well, early within reason, I have to get some sleep first."

"And I'll take a day off. But don't sleep too long! We can sleep together at my place," she said flirtatiously.

"That's my girl. See you tomorrow then."

"See you tomorrow. Love you," Jane said.

"Love you too." I kissed her goodbye and hung up.

I finished the beer and called the office. After a while, Zara answered.

"Hello."

"Hi, it's Michael, Zara, is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Is Martin around?"

"He left for the day. I'm on call tonight, but working from home."

"I'm flying to Pittsburgh tomorrow morning. Can you book some flights for me? Tomorrow morning outbound, flexible return leg, as I might stay a few days."

"Business or pleasure?" she giggled.

"Business and pleasure."

"Sure, I'll email your tickets shortly," she said, and added knowingly, "have fun!"

"I will, thanks." I finished the call.

46.

Next day I
was on my way to Pittsburgh. The flight was uneventful. I hired a car and drove to Ross Park Mall to find something nice for Jane.

I wandered around and popped into a Nordstrom store. I thought a bra would be perfect. I looked at the shelves but there was too much choice. As for the size, I thought a 34B would be fine, but I wasn't sure. I needed help. Fast.

I dialed Carmela Molinari's number. She was a top-notch courtesan, and we occasionally got together, in a strictly professional setting, i.e. I paid and she was there for me. And she knew all about clothing, so hopefully she could help me.

"Hi Carmela."

"Hi Mike, you haven't called for a while," she answered. She seemed pleased that I was calling.

"Kind of busy recently."

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, everything’s fine now, but it’s been hectic."

"Wanna come over?"

"Not for a while, I'm starting a new relationship."

"Wow, tell me about it."

"Next time, I’m in a hurry now. I need your professional advice."

"How much are you paying?"

"I’ll give you a bigger tip next time."

"Sounds fair. Tell me what's on your mind."

"I want to buy a bra for my girlfriend."

Carmela laughed. I’d bought a wrong-size dress for her the last time we met.

"So you’re wiser now and don't want to make a mistake again?"

"That too, but primarily, there's too much fucking choice here. Which brand would you recommend?"

"I would go for Chantelle. It's quite popular, do they have it there?"

I looked around and found it.

"Yeah, they do have it. I'll get this one then. And the size?"

She giggled. "Mike, what am I, a clairvoyant? I haven't seen your lady. I have no idea."

"Well, she’s very well-proportioned," I said.

"That doesn't tell me much. Does she have big boobs?"

"Decent enough, well-endowed by mother nature."

"I don't know, try a 34B perhaps? You’d best try to sneak a look at her actual bra to find out her size."

"I'll try a 34B, Chantelle, as you recommended."

"Excellent choice, good luck then."

"All right, I have to run, talk soon."

"Have fun. Bye," she said, and I hung up.

I bought a stunning, in my opinion, Chantelle bra, size 34B, praying it was the right one.

I left the shopping center and drove to Jane's place.

Jane was waiting for me, scantily clad, and took me to her bedroom immediately on my arrival. I was hungry, but I didn't object. We made love for a good while, experimenting a little along the way. I think Jane was really starting to discover some hidden talents. She was so sexy and gentle, and wanted to please me just as much as I want to please her. And most of all, she was always so natural, which I loved. No fake gymnastics, just a natural flow.

We were lying on her bed chatting about various topics. I updated her on the events of the day before, without any gory details and without putting myself at the center of the affair, consistent with what I’d told her earlier. It was better that way.

I got up, had a quick shower, and went to the kitchen to inspect the fridge. To start with I took a few slices of smoked salmon, added a dollop of hummus, a very tasty paste made of chickpeas and tahini, onto each piece of salmon, rolled them so that that the hummus was effectively a filling inside salmon reels, sprinkled them with freshly squeezed lemon, and served them in bed.

"Mike, it looks lovely, I haven't seen that before. Does it have a name?"

"No idea, I just improvised with what you had in the fridge."

She took a few bites.

"Delicious, you're a very imaginative cook, I'm impressed."

"Thanks, but you’re overestimating my skills."

"Really, a lovely lunch."

"That's not lunch, that's a starter."

"Hmm, yeah, I thought it was a rather tiny portion for a man your size," she laughed.

I went back to the kitchen and got out a few free range eggs, some wholegrain flour, tomatoes, chives, ham, milk, cream, butter, and cheddar cheese. I chopped the ham, chives and tomatoes finely. Then I cracked the egg shells, poured the eggs into a large bowl, whites separately to beat them into froth, and added a little flour, a large spoon of cream, and just a little milk. I added some salt, pepper and chili for taste. I whisked everything vigorously to ensure an even consistency. I grated the cheese and put a generous amount of butter into a heated pan. Once hot, I poured the contents of the bowl into the pan. I covered it with a lid and turned down the heat to a minimum, to allow it to fry slowly without destroying any nutrients or burning the omelet. Once ready, I, cut the end product in half, put each piece onto a large plate, sprinkled them with grated cheese, added some ketchup, and served it up in the dining area.

"Wow, I'm seriously impressed now," Jane said. She must have been really hungry by that stage.

"Nothing special, just a basic omelet. I like simplicity," I said, trying to be humble. Omelet was really just a variation on scrambled egg in my opinion.

We had our lunch and then I brewed some filter coffee.

After breakfast I said:

"Jane, I have a little pressie for you." I handed her the neatly-packed gift I’d bought earlier.

She unwrapped it and took out the bra.

"Oh my God, Mike, it's lovely, I love the rich red color. Chantelle, one of my favorite brands."

She smiled genuinely. I was so happy I’d brought some more happiness into her life. Even more. On top of the early afternoon sex and delicious lunch.

"You know how to please a woman, you really do," she said, and kissed me tenderly.

No doubt I knew how to please a woman.

Suddenly, she stopped smiling. I was petrified for a while, but then she burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"Michael my dear, I'm afraid this is a 34B, I wear a 34C. The band size is spot on, but the cup size is one too small." She put on a sad face.

I didn't know what to say. This was my worst nightmare come true.

"I know you meant well. Thank you so much. I'm sure I can exchange it for the right size," she said, trying to comfort me, and added: "In fact, it's quite flattering, I have bigger boobs than you thought!"

Well, it wasn't exactly as I’d planned it, but I could get her another bra later.

We got dressed and went downtown for a walk.

Having wandered around the city center, we went to Starbucks for coffee and a scone. There were no bombs, pardon me, explosives, this time.

We talked about all sorts of things. I told Jane that we’d recovered some money from Morgenthal, which was confiscated by FBI, but that my contact at the FBI had used his discretion and awarded a two million dollars as a compensation package to Karrie and John Wimbledon. One for each of them.

"Wow, that’s great news. I'm going to tell my colleagues at work. Fantastic news. Obviously, I'm going to tell all three Wimbledons first," Jane said enthusiastically.

"Well, I'd rather you kept it secret," I asked her, and explained, "it wasn't strictly an official route. Normally it would go through the courts etc, but that can take years, lots of hassle, stress, and so on. It rarely happens, but governments sometimes help by making an administrative shortcut." Total bullshit, governments were there to collect taxes and spend them even faster than they collect them. "I would keep it low profile. The money will actually come from my account, so there’ll be no link to Morgenthal."

"Sounds good to me, what counts is the good intention. That's why I love my country. And thank you for being involved in this whole affair."

"No problem, everything ended well."

I went to the counter and ordered another coffee.

"Michael, I must ask you about something," she said. It sounded very serious.

"Fire away," I said in a leisurely manner, even though I was not at ease and all my muscles had tensed up.

"You know, we've been together for quite a while now," she started.

We'd been together for less than a month, but that was a minor detail.

"Yeah?"

"You know, I just wanted to know your plans for the future. We're not exactly teenagers anymore, I need to know what you’re planning in your life so I can organize mine, if you know what I mean."

I knew this meant: “Where's the engagement ring, I want to get married.”

"I like being with you, I genuinely want to develop our relationship."

"That sounds so non-committal," she laughed a little sadly. "Do you love me?"

"I love you. And I would really love to settle down someday."

"Sounds like a 'but' scenario? What's stopping you?"

"I don't know. I think I need more time to figure out what I want."

"Sounds a little like a cliché," she said. She seemed to be disappointed.

"Don't be sad, I really love you and want to be with you," I said, trying to reassure her.

"Mike, I love you too. I’ve become seriously attached, if not addicted. You're really wonderful. But I'm also aware men’s brains functions in a different way, irrationally in my opinion. I want to be with you, but only if you are fully committed. I don’t want a part time partner. I don’t want any more disappointments."

I thought it was the other way round, but let's not dwell on details. I really loved Jane, but wasn't yet sure of the degree of involvement I was willing to accept. Especially when I’d been cornered unawares.

"Okay, let's give ourselves some more time. Deal?" she finally said.

"Deal."

“So this will be kind of open relationship for a while, no commitments, free to do other stuff, but no bridges burned, okay?”

“Suits me well.”

I gave a sigh of relief. Hopefully there would be no more difficult questions that day.

"One more thing, while we're talking openly."

"Yeah?" I tensed up again.

"Would you ever consider having children?" Jane asked bluntly.

"Jane, give me a break. It's too early for that question."

"Yes or no?" she demanded.

"Well, I wouldn't rule out the possibility," I answered. I’d been cornered.

"Good, that's what I wanted to hear," she smiled.

From Starbucks, we drove to Nordstrom in Ross Park Mall to get her another bra, this time in the right size.

I bought some groceries and spirits, and we headed back to Jane's house.

I prepared a quick dinner, chicken breasts and avocado salad, plain and simple food the way I liked it.

We talked a lot during the meal, sipping our drinks. Jane was having white wine, while I was enjoying a glass of whiskey.

After a while, we hit the shower and then went through to the bedroom. Even though I didn't exactly know what I wanted from our relationship, the immediate prospect of sex with Jane was allaying all my fears. No time for philosophy, time for action.

We had great sex, one of the best I'd had recently. Jane was the best thing that had happened to me in a long time. I was so happy.

I was thinking to myself. What was I afraid of? Why I wasn't I ready yet to commit to a serious relationship? I was committing in a way, but somehow not as fully as Jane wanted. Why? I didn't know. Effectively we agreed to be on standby, to separate for a while, but to be ready to entertain the idea of coming together again. It was very convenient for me. It might give me time to figure out what I really wanted. Men’s brains are complex, after all. With that reassuring thought I fell asleep.