Chapter 4

Becky and I spent the day together and the night. Much of the day she observed my work as I gave her an insider's view on the workings of a Private Detective.

Our second stop after sharing a shower, teasing but not cumming, and a breakfast of huevos rancheros cooked and served with an old sure hand by RJ, found us in the presence of Nakamoto at Honolulu Police Headquarters. (We journeyed to her condo first so she could change which ended up just a couple blocks from the apartment. "You could have gone home," I said. "I didn't want to," she said and gave me a warm loving glance and a short meaningful kiss.) Uncle Sam Kamalua had retired by then and Nakamoto had taken his place and moved up to Captain. Nakamoto disguised his awe at meeting the gorgeous movie star fairly well at the beginning, but during the hour we spent reminiscing about old cases it became harder. Becky attended to his every word and gesture and even made coy and flirtatious remarks. Then she made him blush.

"How is Sandy Shaw in bed?" she asked.

"I..."

"Do you love her?"

"I ... guess. I don't think of her in those terms. But..."

"Was it a long courtship, or did you guys just decide to fuck?"

"Jeez!" said Nakamoto. "You're as crazy as she is!"

"Really? Cool. Tell me about her. I want the dirty details and I want to know your working relationship."

Nakamoto glanced at his watch. He scanned the room outside his office. People kept glancing at the movie star. He closed the blinds. "Maybe you should lock the door," Becky flirted.

"If you want I can leave you two alone," I said half joking. I admired and rejoiced in Becky's recklessness. If she wanted to fuck Nakamoto for research, I'm sure he wouldn't mind being used. And from what Sandy said about his skills, Becky probably wouldn't mind the research either. It seemed to me at the moment she might embrace my philosophy.

"Please stay Joe," she said. The loving glance tightened my crotch. "I never had a threesome."

We laughed and things calmed for Nakamoto.

He told her about the little sister case when Sandy and I first met him. He admitted their first sexual encounter occurred during a stakeout.

"Not much room for sex," Becky pointed out.

"Mostly touching and..."

"Just spit it out Donald," Becky insisted.

"She ... gave me a blow job."

"Wow, a shameless hussy!"

"When she sees something she likes, she goes for it," I explained.

"I tried reciprocating but had to wait," said Nakamoto whereupon he described the capture.

"She impressed you," said Becky.

"She had the bigger gun," replied Nakamoto sending us into a rapture of laughter.

"I can't wait to meet her," said Becky.

"Look in the mirror and add a few years," Nakamoto suggested.

"I'm sorry Donald," admitted Becky. "I'm really not such a flirt. I'm sort of playing Sandy and there's a character I'm interested in who is sort of you."

"Really? How sort of is he?"

"A genius nerd who happens to wear a cop's uniform," I said. "In other words he's the spitting image."

"Who's playing me?"

"You ever heard of Pat Bishop?"

"No," he said, disappointed.

"You watched Magnum PI, didn't you?"

"Of course."

"You remember Rick's bar? Remember the bartender?"

"Vaguely."

"There was that Rashomon episode. Pat played the villain. It ended his stint."

"Oh yeah. He's..."

"A good looking guy," said Becky. "Stop worrying. He's a fine actor as well."

Nakamoto talked about a couple other cases, giving Becky more insights into the way Sandy operated professionally.

Time interrupted us, or more specifically a knock on the door and business to attend to. Becky dropped her final bomb.

"When's your next day off?" she asked.

"Tomorrow."

She glanced at me. "No, tomorrow won't work for me."

"Thursday."

"I'll probably be shooting, but should be free in the evening. Give me your card. Write your home number on the back."

"Are you asking me for a date?"

"She's telling you, Nakamoto."

"Are you sure you're not related to Sandy? Okay. Call me Wednesday or early Thursday if you change your mind."

"I'll only change it if I have to," said Becky. She gave him a peck on the cheek. The officer at the door looked amazed. So did Nakamoto. I chuckled inside and followed my beautiful new lover out the door.

Before entering my office/home I detoured to my next door neighbors. Penny looked glowing in her Mu Mu draping over her pregnant tummy. Todd and Freddy stared at Becky most of the time we were there, only ending when they got to ask her a series of rapid fire questions about past movies and co-stars. The precocious two year old Joseph acted shy most of the time. "You're beautiful," he finally said.

"Takes after his namesake already," quipped Penny. Her husband enjoyed the joke. He knew Penny still thought of me as a lover. In fact she'd coached him to find places I'd found on her to make her crazy and informed him of the source. He accepted me anyway. We felt a rapport despite my possible threat. But he made it clear to Penny and through Penny to me that he'd rather not share his wife with anyone, especially one still generating a quiet flame in her heart and loins.

"You used to make love to her," stated Becky as soon as we stepped outside and walked the few feet to my house. "I should say you used to love her."

"Still do, Becky. I still love her. But she's happily married and devoted to the sanctity of her family. I'd never intrude into that."

"She wouldn't mind," she said as we entered my house. "You keep it in good shape for a bachelor."

"I have a maid comes by twice a week. She's a business expense. This is the office of Waikiki PI."

"No shingle?"

"Not allowed. It's on the QT."

"And you have some major contacts keeping it that way."

"I guess I do."

"So she'd fuck you in a minute."

"Too many ifs for that to happen. It won't."

"I could sense she'd be a fine actress."

"She is."

They'd spent an hour talking Ibsen while at least for the first ten minutes the rest of us stood around perplexed. Eventually Todd led us to his new Nintendo and we let the women talk theater while having fun shooting and dodging.

"I like her."

"What's not to like?"

"Show me around you cad," she said giving me a gentle shove.

Being a boy in a man's body I showed her my pride and joy: my computer. "Unh-hunh," she said dully.

Wandering around disinterested in my pride and joy she ended up in front of the file cabinet. She found it locked.

"Case files?" she asked.

"It's private."

"I won't tell if you won't."

"There's some fucked up shit in there."

"The four women murderers?" she asked excitedly.

"Six actually."

"Please?"

"Okay."

I opened the lock and found my first case. She kept looking. Unfortunately she knew to grab the most stuffed files. Filling her arms, one fell and pictures scattered, pictures I hated. "Oh fuck," she said. She went pale.

"Sorry," I said with all my heart. I began picking them up and stuffing them back into the file as quickly as possible.

"No Joe. I want to see."

"No you don't."

"I don't. You're right. But I have to. Please let me."

"Look Becky. I care about you. I wouldn't show these to my worst enemy. I'll show you..."

"You solved her murder didn't you?"

"Whose?"

She pointed to the tag. "Olivia Koscina," typed in bold letters. "Vy's."

"I did. Officially the FBI..."

"Shut up. Listen. Of all the cases you solved this has to be the closest to your heart."

I nodded. "Others got pretty damned deep, but..."

"Those are the ones. I want to see the ones you solved despite your pain."

"But I thought you wanted to know Sandy?"

"I'm you, Joe."

"I'm research." I laughed. "Damn, I didn't see that coming. I thought I'd show you the business, but you wanted me to show you ... me."

"I'm sorry."

"But..."

"I'm not that good of an actress. I really do like you. I love you Joe."

"But..."

"I don't get wasted drunk. I don't sleep with a guy I just met. I don't fall in love in a matter of hours. Except now I guess I do."

I laughed with complete abandon. I laughed so hard it hurt. Then I took her in my arms and hugged her. I twirled her around. "You're fantastic Rebecca Whalen. You're amazing! You're perfect! You're my perfect mate! You are me! I'd marry you in an instant! We'd be perfect together!"

"But you'd never marry..."

"No I wouldn't. But if I did and you weren't destined to wander through the world a big star I'd take you to the justice of the peace right now."

"Really? You love me?"

"Only if I love myself."

"Do you?"

"Within reason. You?"

"I'm feeling pretty good about myself at the moment. But Joe, we're..."

"I know. You've never been promiscuous. You couldn't if you wanted. You had all those gorgeous men around you when you modeled and acted. I bet you never slept with one. Maybe you fantasized."

"Of course. I'm not big on narcissism though. I'm too familiar with it. It turns my stomach."

"Exactly. And every man in your life that you fucked you loved. You loved them passionately. And they either turned their back on you, lied to you, got scared of you and their love soured, or you realized they weren't the one you wanted and you broke up."

"Let me see. I haven't ... Oh yeah. Very good Joe."

"Thank you."

"Brilliant Joe."

"Thanks."

"And you ... you've slept around..."

"But..."

"But you loved them passionately. It doesn't take you long to fall in love like it does me."

"Well shit Becky, you're stunning! You have to defend yourself against every ... heterosexual man on the planet. Of course you're going to need time."

"Makes sense."

"But here's the clincher. You're going to fuck Nakamoto."

"I am?"

"Most definitely. All in the line of work. Like me except you ... well I think you fell in love with me."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"Okay. Take Penny. I went undercover to find her. She disappeared, ran away from home and in order to track her down I became an actor."

"Just like now."

"Exactly. When I go undercover, it excites me. I get turned on. It's like a fetish. So Penny, when I met her she needed me. She needed good sex and someone to love."

"Like me."

"Yep. So I'm horny and she's horny and I befriend her and..."

"But you didn't need to befriend me."

"No I didn't. You ... well ... I guess we stumbled into each other."

"I guess we did," chuckled Becky.

"Other cases the same thing happened except we didn't fall in love and it was just a one night stand. I got what I needed as far as the case and she ... well she enjoyed herself because..."

"You spent the night undercover with her and she benefitted from the fetish."

"Exactly. So..."

"Wait. I liked you when we got drunk at the restaurant. I got excited feeding off your excitement, but not really smitten so to speak. I definitely liked you. But when RJ outed you ... Oh my god, I am you!"

Laughter echoed through the house.

"Show me the cases, Joe."

"All of them?"

"The ones that matter, including Vy's."

"Do you want to see what she looked like?"

"I'd love to."

I grabbed Vy's posthumous book of poetry from the bookcase, my most cherished book and handed it to her.

"She's stunning."

"I'm glad you think so."

"She looks amazing."

"So do you."

"I'm too symmetrical. Cool tattoos." She glanced through the pages. I had my friends sign inside the book under their favorite poem. "What's this. Dotty. 'With all my lust.' Slut. Who's Mila? 'Love forever.' Damn Joe, do you ever keep it in your pants?"

"She wrote the story. It's a wonderful parable. She's another victim of my fetish."

"And you love her?" I nodded. "Where is she?"

"Oregon. She switched to the other side."

"She's ... a lesbian."

"Except..."

"When you visit."

"Damn. I'd ask you to stop that, but I like it."

We began with Vy's case. I hadn't viewed those horrid photos of her and another of the serial monster's victims in awhile. Those and reliving the case brought a tear to my eye. Becky's teared up too. We hugged and allowed the sorrow to run its course.

I showed her the little sister case. Some of Cathy's blackmail photos and the group shot of my father and his cabal brought out my relationship with Kim and the conception of my daughter Cathy, officially my half sister and Kim's marriage to my father.

"Wow Joe, that must have been uncomfortable," said Becky.

"Actually it made my father and I close for the first time in ... since I started my adolescent rebellion."

"I want current pictures!" demanded Becky.

Slightly embarrassed for some reason, Becky found it cute I had a family picture of Dad, Kim, the four year old future heartbreaker Cathy and the infant Sam stashed in my wallet. "He's only my half-brother," I informed Becky. "Father got healthy."

"He's a handsome man," said Becky. "What happened?"

"I got my mother's looks I guess," I shrugged pulling a photo of my mom taken a few years back proudly standing in front of her newly opened Hippy/New Age store.

"Sorry Joe, she's too lovely to have conceived you."

"Fuck you."

"Later," she said, but kissed me anyway.

"What about the mysterious cab driver?" she asked after the kiss.

"Moe was way to careful to ... Wait. Follow me."

She followed me upstairs to my bedroom. "I wondered when the tour might stop here," she giggled. "King sized bed I see."

"That's Moe," I said, pointing at a framed canvas portrait of him hanging on the wall across from the foot of my bed. His son painted it in thick dark strokes, browns and dark greens and deep blues, somewhat realistic but for the colors which reminded one of German Expressionism of the twenties and thirties. Like all the talented young artist's personal work, Moe stood straight and stiff as if posing at attention a little too long.

"The kid's got talent," said Becky. "RJ's got to see this."

"I'll invite him to dinner," I said, pulling out my wallet to extract the apartment's phone number.

"Only if you kick him out early. There's a reason I didn't want to interview Donald tomorrow. I plan on being too sore."

"So you did plan on seducing him," I said reaching for the phone. It rang before I could lift it. I lifted it.

"Howzit brah, I got some mystery cooking with dat wahine," said Gabe.

"Let me get you on speakerphone," I said.

"I thought Sandy stay in Kaui with dat rich kane."

"She is. One of the actress's in the movie I'm working on is here. She's doing research."

"Research, brah. Is dat what you call it."

Both Becky and I laughed. "Gabe Kahalani, meet Rebecca Whalen."

"Fuck brah. I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't mean to be rude. You should warn me Joe when you actually do put me on speakerphone." His pidgin vanished as it often did when confronted by clients or respectable outsiders and he sounded like a cultured Californian. "It's an honor Rebecca. I thought your work in Scarab was truly fine." Leave it to Gabe to pick her lowest budget lowest grade cult picture. Although I agreed.

"Call me Becky, Gabe."

"Thanks Becky. Let me say that you should be wary of Joe. He's cunning."

"What if I don't want to be," said Becky.

"Joe you fucker! Damn! Uhm, sorry Becky."

"Not at all. Sounded like a compliment."

Gabe laughed. "Definitely, although..."

"Hey Gabe," I interrupted. "Can we get on with it?"

"Yeah alright," said Gabe a little deflated about missing a jab. "It seems Marnie met with some foul play. She's dead: raped and murdered."

"Oh my god!" said Becky.

"Oh shit. Sorry."

"No, Gabe," said Becky. "I ... I need to hear this. She wasn't a friend, but she was giving me cues only a week ago."

"Go on Gabe," I said.

"Whatever you say boss. They found her body off a road a few miles from Hilo. A bent up bike hid a couple hundred feet from the body. I actually identified her since she didn't have anything on her."

"She was naked?" asked Becky.

"No. Sorry. Her clothes had been torn, but she still had some on. I mean she had no ID. The bike was a rental. The renter turned out to be..."