Chapter 3

BOOM!

The 357 slug rips into the target, tearing a neat hole right where his heart would be.

BOOM!

Another hole, an inch from the first.

BOOM!

I watch Tina shooting. She's my foxy little ex-hooker girlfriend, and my new secretary in my P.I. business. She shooting my old Smith and Wesson Highway Patrol Model, from back when I was a cop.

Damn, I gotta tell you, there is nothing more sexy than a babe with a piece. The smell of burnt gunpowder and perfume gives me a hard-on for a week. I gotta whole calendar of hot chicks, in bikinis, firing machine guns.

Hey, you get your kicks your way. I'll get mine my way.

BOOM!

Tina looks real hot in her "Guys like 38s, But they LOVE 44's" T-Shirt stretched over her big boobs. She has on equally tight little cutoff shorts and high heels and her brunette hair is tied back in a pony tail. Damn, she looks great. I've had wood all day just looking at her.

I feel a movement behind me and turn.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Muscles empties the extended clip of my Ruger 9mm. Then she pulls the target up toward her.

Me, I prefer head shots. Tina shoots for the body, so you have a better chance of hitting them and taking them down.

Muscles looks at the target and smiles at me.

The groin of the male silhouette is completely gone.

Hey, I said I prefer head shots.

Obviously, Muscles doesn't.

I see a guy down the firing line checking us out. With Tina as Miss Sex Pistol 2003, and Muscles as Camo Dyke, with a tiny top barely covering her little tits, made huge by her pectorals beneath, the girls are getting checked out thoroughly.

I smile at Muscles and nod. Her face has a smear of gunpowder on it. Damn, she looks hot.

Of course, I just look. This is one babe that even Jack is afraid of. He's been there, but he always sighs in relief when he gets out in one piece.

Muscles begins to reload the Ruger and Tina smiles at me and winks.

Another great day at the shooting range.

I'm sitting in my office when I hear the bell on the front door.

I hear Tina talking to someone for a few moments, then I hear Tina's knock on my office door.

"Yeah?" I say.

"You got a woman out here. Needs her husband checked out. Name's Patricia Hollings."

I nod. Yeah, that's a P.I.s bread and butter. Burn the spouse. What's he up to, and who is he sticking that 'up' into?

Hell, it's a living.

Patricia Hollings comes to the door. Soccer Mom type. Maybe thirty five, pretty in a kind of plain way. Nothing to die over, but nothing to ignore either.

I motion to a chair and smile over at her.

This is the hard part for her. I know that. Telling a stranger about your most intimate fears, your darkest dreads.

It's always bad. If things aren't bad, you don't go to a private detective.

"I need to find out what's going on with my husband, Donald Hollings," she says.

I nod. She's married.

"He's been working late, taking business trips. He's different, evasive. He seems almost ashamed."

Mrs. Hollings wipes her eyes with a kleenex. She's pretty overwrought, but she holds it in tight. She's a coil spring that's about to break, but when it does, everyone will be surprised by it.

Cause she covers too well.

"What's he do?" I ask.

She sighs and tells the story. Vice-President of a small but very lucrative software firm, married nine years, kids, four and six, good money, no real problems, never cheated that she knows of. Yeah, the perfect little happy family.

But the fact she's sitting in my office proves it's not perfect at all.

Then she starts the litany, the clues she noticed for months, but tried to ignore. The hints that something was falling apart, but you learn not to see them until the cracks are so big you're tripping over them and can't ignore them any more.

He works late, sometimes doesn't come home till two. He takes 'business' trips and is evasive about what goes on. Donald is a nice man, but he's distant, distracted.

The last straw was the bonus.

"Donnie got a bonus last year: Eighty-five thousand dollars," she tells me. "He never mentioned it. I only found out because his accountant mentioned it at a party we went to."

Yeah. If you're playing fast and loose with your money, you wanna make sure you cover yourself real well.

Donnie Boy didn't.

"Does he drink? Gamble?"

She shrugs.

"Occasionally. We took a trip to Vegas four years ago. But I never smell alcohol on his breath when he gets home."

I nod. I'm tempted to ask if she smells pussy on his breath, but don't.

"No funny smells, stains, shi... stuff like that?" I ask.

She shakes her head.

"No," she says. "The only odd thing was that he came home from Cincinnati with bruises."

I sit up. This is not a good sign, but I'm not gonna tell her that.

"Bruises?" I ask.

She nods and smiles wanly. She has a kind of subdued sexuality, kind of mousy, but it's down there.

She could be a hellion in bed.

"Yeah, he was limping. He said he fell on the airport steps."

I nod. Could be. Could be someone roughed him up.

There's a hell of a lot worse things than getting a little pussy on the side. He could be into some guy for a quarter million in gambling losses and they might come after wifey to take the interest out on her.

Or he could be doing drugs and owe his dealer. Or a hundred other little sleazy weaknesses that can get you in such a tight trap that you simply can't escape.

Strange pussy could be the least of Patricia's problems.

She leaves a three thousand dollar deposit and all her husband's personal information.

Donnie is about to get his life examined, very up close and personal.

I walk out to Tina, who's sitting at the computer.

"Check this guy out," I tell her.

She takes the paper and sits back. Shit, Tina is one hot piece.

Like today, for instance. Tina shows up after our morning target practice in a long grey skirt, below the knee, with a slit up the back almost to her ass. Nylons, high heels, blouse open all the way down to her fucking navel, for God's sake, and no bra.

This babe is twenty-one and hotter than a stolen Mercedes.

I go back in my office and open my desk drawer, and pulling out the gift wrapped box, with the hearts on it. Yeah, it's Valentine's day, and I got Tina a gift.

I go in and put it on her desk. Tina smiles up at me.

"Oh, Murray, you didn't have to!" she says.

Tina opens the box and gasps as she lifts out the shiny gift.

It's a Charter Arms Pug, the 375 Magnum version of my Bulldog, in stainless steel. Tina pulls it out of the box, her face alight.

"A gun! And a permit! Thank you, Murray!" she gushes.

Tina jumps up and plants those lush little lips on my mouth and pushes her body up against mine.

Jack is up in a second. Damn him, he must be drinking a lot of coffee lately or something. He's been busier that maggots on a week old corpse lately, but he's always ready to go.

We kiss, nice and slow and wet. Since I got her debt with Donnie Brisco taken care of, Tina has been real grateful.

And since she works for me, I get thanked a lot, once a day at least.

I slide my hands over her hot ass. Jesus, if I had only one woman I could ever be with for the rest of my life, Tina would be it.

I slide my hand under her skirt. Shit. She's got on real nylons and I can feel the straps of her garter. Our tongues are wrestling like mating snakes as I slide my hand up and cup her full little pussy, already getting wet. She's not wearing panties.

Damn! Tina has her breasts against me, her leg snaking up around my back to make her pussy more available. I slide my fingers up between her full pussy lips and into her hot slit, slick and wet and ready.

Tina moans as I begin to frig her, moving my fingers up and into her deep fold, finding her hot wet playground, all ready for Jack to show up and take a ride.

I feel her hand slide into my pants to take Jack for a walk, and he's ready. He gives her hand a wet sloppy kiss, and she rubs his head. He loves that.

She let's Jack out and bends down. He's gonna get a tongue bath. He's trembling in anticipation.

Tina sucks him deep in her hot little mouth and starts working him over. He's doing an excited little dance, and she starts adding some rhythm.

Damn. I just close my eyes and let it happen.

I can feel her full breasts on my thighs, and her hot mouth sliding and rolling around Jack.

Then she moves away and I feel her hot body pressing against mine.

I kiss her again, wet and slow, and slide my hand over her back and down to her ass.

I push her back against her desk, kissing her hungrily. Damn, this girl could give a corpse a hard on.

I hear a zip and her skirt slides to the floor.

I kneel. I love pussy, and Tina's is full and tasty. I slide my mouth up over her, slipping my tongue into the cleft and licking her. She moans and spreads her legs.

I suck and lick and enjoy her. She's a creamy little thing, and she's already starting to get juicy.

Jack's hanging out, chilling, and waiting for his turn.

I stand and Tina slides up on the desk, wrapping her long legs around me and pushing her pussy up against Jack. They're good friends, and in a moment she's invited him inside.

Damn, she's hot and wet and Jack likes the decorations.

I slide my hands under that open blouse and get a double- handful. She groans and moves up against me again, fucking herself on Jack.

Hell, I know I'm shitting myself. This is a hot, beautiful twenty-one year old. I'm pushing fifty, and wear every day of it.

But right now, I'm a twenty-three year old stud, putting it to my girlfriend on her desk, just loving the feeling of my cock

inside her and her breasts in my hands and her mouth, hot and wet and nimble, working on mine.

Tina's pussy tightens down on Jack, sucking at him and along him as she orgasms. She soaks Jack with her juices and he likes that part. He splashes merrily through the wet, getting off on it.

Yeah, that's what he's gonna do. I grunt and Jack goes for it, splashing Tina deep inside with his ejaculation.

Tina moans and comes again, and Jack gets grabbed by her pussy, hard and nice.

He's still coming and I'm grunting and fucking her mouth with my tongue. We go at it hard, and then relax as both our climaxes drain off.

Tina sits back and smiles sexily.

"Is there anything else, Mr. Antoinette?" she asks.

I smile at her. Yeah, I'm an idiot. I'm falling hard for this girl.

I sigh and wink.

"I'll think about it," I tell her. "Get on that info."

Tina has a gift. The power she has over men (and women, she's finding out) because of her clean cut, innocent beauty seems to work on computers too. I never thought about it, but my computer must be a guy, because she can get it to do anything she wants.

Or maybe my computer's just a Lesbian. That makes more sense, because the fucking thing hates me.

I go back in my office and pour a glass of bourbon. Yeah, just a small glass, not that it's any of your business anyway.

I like bourbon.

I don't like being drunk.

Well, not unless I'm among friends.

I drive towards Luger Enterprises.

Luger is a software company. They designed some program that detected and repaired corrupted program files or some damn thing. Anyway, they're rolling in it, and Patricia's husband got in on the windfall.

I see his car, a very late model Mercedes sedan. The license checks.

I find a place to park and wait.

I keep warning Muscles this is what P.I. work is. She's interested and taking classes. They tell them how to make citizen's arrests, evidence gathering, shoot/don't shoot scenarios, anti-terrorist driving: all that shit.

What they don't teach you is how to sit in a car for seven hours, with your ass falling asleep, bored shitless and needing to take a leak, and wait for that few seconds you might actually see something good and get a picture of it.

That's good P.I. work.

Five O'clock comes and Donnie Boy comes right out to his car. He gets in and drives off, away from his home.

I give him some time. Hell, people can't tail anymore. They pull up on the guy's ass and wonder why he notices them so easily.

I get in another lane, four cars back, and play "guy driving home," while I keep an eye on the Mercedes.

He's good about using turn signals, which makes my job a lot easier. Pretty soon, he is driving in a residential section, me lazing about a half block behind.

He pulls into a driveway. I go past, turning around at the next corner and passing just as a woman opens the door for him.

I don't get a real good look, but what I see looks promising. She's a redhead, very long hair and very high heels. Her clothing is dark, but I see a skirt and white blouse with a high neckline.

Then he's going in, and I'm past.

I find a place to pee and get a burger, and go back, parking well down the street, but with a good view of his car.

I hate residential surveillance. People are looking for perverts and burglars, and I get eye-balled a lot, or even approached.

But I get lucky and just get a couple of curious glances.

Donnie Boy is out ninety minutes later. He opens the door and leaves alone. Red is probably either still in bed or getting a shower before her own husband gets home.

I watch him leave and drive past the house again, getting the number of the house.

Then I head to my apartment.

When I go in the door, Tina hops off the couch. Yeah, she's staying with me. She's got her own bedroom, but she never uses the bed.

Yeah, I'm gonna get hurt. I already know that. I like her way too much.

Yeah, I know her story. The overly friendly father (not even a step father, for Christ-sake) who took a real interest in his budding daughter and a mother that went intentionally deaf, dumb and blind. And an entire family who wants to flush their relative down the toilet instead of looking at their own shit.

So she ends up on her own, hooking part time to make ends meet.

Then I meet her and give her a job and a place to stay.

Yeah, she's grateful. Very. But she's gonna start looking around and realize living with a broken down old P.I. isn't where she wants to be, not forever.

I sigh. Life isn't forever, and neither are relationships. You enjoy it while you got it, because some day you won't have it any more.

And that goes for just about everything.

Tina kisses me.

"I made dinner for us," she says.

We go in to eat.

I gotta tell ya, Tina keeps the office interesting. I just came out of my private office and have to check her out.

Today she has on a short full skirt, that been flirting with the bottom of her ass all morning. She's got on little girl shoes with big girl heels, and her brunette hair is in pigtails, for chissake.

Her high necked stretch top covers her bountiful tits. Jesus, if this babe had been in my high school, I never would have dropped out.

Tina catches me checking her out.

She looks up at me, curious.

"How do you spell Murry?" Tina asks me.

I look up at her and shrug.

"M U R R A Y ?" I say.

"Are you askin or tellin?" she asks.

Yeah, Tina's learning a lot, and part of that is the way I talk.

I never realized I was such a wise-ass.

"No idea," I admit. "It's got the 'A' in it on the door."

She looks over at me, baffled. Hell, I baffle a lot of people.

"You don't know how to spell your own name?" she says.

I sigh. "When the Doc filled out the birth certificate, he was drunk," I tell her.

"I don't know how it's really supposed to be," I admit. On my birth certificate he managed to scrawl Murr-y. Can't tell for shit what the fifth letter was supposed to be, or if it was just a spasm and there wasn't gonna be a letter there at all."

I shug.

"My cards say Murry, the office door says Murray. I don't have a problem with that."

"Do you?"

I look over at Tina's perplexed look. This babe is so hot, even perplexed looks sexy on her.

Then again, I got a big crush on her. So I'm biased.

How am I supposed to work around that?

Happily. Very happily.

She sighs and shakes her head. I don't give a rat's ass. It's pronounced Murree. Goes with Antoinette. What's the spelling got to do with anything?

Tina drops the subject. No, it doesn't mean I win. I know better. It means Tina will decide how to spell it and do it that way, no matter what I think.

Maybe I'll get a memo or something.

I gotta tell you, though. My files looked like a rat's nest when she first showed up.

A very messy rat.

But now I have cabinets and computer files and all that shit.

No, I still can't find anything. I keep it all in my head. Always have.

But ya ask Tina and she has it in about three seconds. Invoices, photos, whatever.

Which is a damned good thing. Since my mug made the papers about my involvement in getting Donnie Brisco to take a long, Federally financed, vacation, I've been really busy.

I've also made some enemies.

My Dog, my 44 Magnum Charter Arms snubby Bulldog, is my constant companion now. Some mook took a shot at me, outside of Dolly's, about a month ago. Clean miss, but I get the hint.

That's why the shooting lessons for Tina. She was afraid of guns when I met her.

Not any more.

Tina shakes her head as she looks at the computer, then brings up a new screen.

"I got the financials on Donald Hollings," she says.

"And?" I ask.

"He's doing really well. No financial problems, no overdue bills. He looks clean."

"What about his bonus?" I ask.

"He has a separate account, at a mail service. He put it in there."

"And is spending it on?" I ask.

Tina smiles kind of sadly.

"Elizabeth Masters," she says. "He's written her dozens of checks and also taken out five hundred dollar cash withdrawals from his account on a regular basis."

I frown. You have a woman on the side, you usually pay a lot for eating out or hotels. You usually don't pay for it.

"You check out this woman?" I ask.

She nods. "She's thirty one and a professional writer," she says. "Writes for women's magazines, things like that."

Tina frowns, and shakes her head.

"Only odd thing is, she made a hundred and eighty thousand last year," she says. "Most of it was categorized under "personal services."

Yeah, hookers pay taxes too. At least, the smart ones do. The IRS doesn't care how you get the money, as long as they get their cut.

Well, I'm putting it together. Guy probably has some kink. Either the wife won't or he hasn't even asked her. Maybe he wants to slap her around or ass-fuck her. God knows.

Anyway, he finds a pro and buys her services.

Problem is, the guy is seeing this chick two, three nights a a week.

And paying her a fortune.

I remember the bruises he got in Cincinnati. Shit. What happened there? Is it connected?

I have a brief thought, just a flash.

I put it aside. I don't ignore it, but I file it away, just in case.

This guy has a kink he works out on other women. He leaves town a lot, maybe to do the same thing. He comes back from one of these trips, injured.

Maybe the girl fought back. Maybe he pushed too hard, and she tried to push back.

Maybe he plays rape/murder games with his expensive little Redhead, and does the real thing on vacation.

"Where you going Murray?" Tina asks as I grab my coat and hat.

"Out," I tell her, heading for the door.

"Don't forget Bad's tonight," Tina nods.

I nod confidently, like I really hadn't forgot. Yeah, I had forgotten Bad Dolly's has a Valentine's party. I promised Tina I'd take her.

"I'll be back in plenty of time," I tell her.

I turn at the exit.

"Hun, do me a favor?" I ask.

She nods.

"Lock this door, and keep your gun on you," I tell her, and I'm gone.

I fire up the Mustang and take off.

It's February. The babes are all covered up, trying to keep warm against the bitter wind around here.

I watch a hot babe in a long trench-coat trying to cross the street, the wind sliding under her coat and doing it's best to undress her. She struggles against it's advances, but it keeps trying anyway, pulling the coat open and diving up under her skirt.

I feel sorry for our winter around here. It likes naked babes, just like summer. But it can't use the sun to heat em up and get them to shed, so it resorts to other methods.

I get into the same residential neighborhood I was in last night. I drive past the Redhead's house and see a car parked in the driveway.

I grab my telephoto lens and camera. Maybe she's with another customer.

It takes a while to find a place to watch from. I'm up again a fence in the older neighborhood, with a sight line right into the bedroom.

I can see the Redhead's hair through the window.

I bring up the camera and check out the scene.

Shit!

This tall redheaded babe, really beautiful, is standing beside the bed. She has on a black leather cincher, stunning against her milk white skin. Her small very high breasts are exposed, with big golden rings pierced through both of them.

Her head is back, and her eyes are closed. She seems almost like...

She brings up her arm and comes down, fast and hard. She raises the arm again, and I see the short whip in her hand. Then she brings it down again.

I can't see her below her waist because of the window. But I'm getting great shots of what I can see.

She drags someone up. A pretty older woman appears, the Redhead's hand pinning her hair, twisting her head around and forcing her to lick one of the pierced nipples.

Damn. The rings are thick and large. I never seen nipple piercings so big.

She slaps the woman, several times, hard.

Then she pushes her down, out of sight, and walks out of the room.

Elizabeth Masters is a very interesting lady.

I watch the woman leave the house from the street. She's combed her hair and dressed, but she looks both roughed up and has that happy, fresh-fucked looked.

She is one satisfied customer.

I get her license number and get out of the area.

When I get back to the office, it's locked. Good girl, Tina!

I unlock the door and step in.

Tina is laid back on the desk, her skirt up around her waist, her blouse pulled open. She looks like she is in pain.

Then I see Lila kneeling between her legs. She's down to bra and panties, and they're so skewed they ain't covering much anyway. Lila looks over, but doesn't move her mouth from Tina's writhing pussy.

God damn, what a nice thing to walk in on. It's a hell of a lot better office decoration than some picture hanging on the wall.

Tina is so engrossed she hasn't even noticed me come in. She's touching her own tits and moaning as Lila sucks and licks her pussy.

Jack wakes right up. Always. He's real social, and hates to miss out on a party.

Lila has Tina's pussy open real wide, and is gently licking right along her shiny pink cleft. Tina's cunt has two fingers inside and she's writhing and bucking.

Lila looks at me, then moves her eyes down to Tina's pussy.

I get the idea.

Jack's already jumping against the front of my pants, like a puppy wanting to go for a walk.

I unzip him and let him loose.

Lila takes Jack and puts him right next to Tina's pussy. She licks Jack as well as Tina, getting him all wet and ready.

Then she moves her head aside, putting Jack at Tina's door and letting him in.

Tina gasps and her eyes go wide as Jack fills her up.

"Shit!" she says. "Murray! I didn't know you were there!"

Then she groans and closes her eyes, as her orgasm hits.

Lila is at my mouth, kissing me with her wet, pussy-tasting lips. Her mouth is redolent of cunt and I kiss her back, wet and nice.

I pull her lithe body against me. Lila is a real friend, and a wonderful lover. She's bi, of course, but Jack is her favorite fuck-buddy when she wants guy-ride.

I slide my hands over her breasts, pretty well exposed by her unfastened bra. Her nipples are wet with Tina's saliva and she moans as I slide my thumbs over their erect tips.

I can feel jack going for it in Tina, seeing how deep he can slide in her hot, wet, tight pussy. She's moving on him too, tightening and sucking at him with her pussy as her arousal increases.

I slide my hand between Lila's legs and she puts a foot up on the desk, opening herself wide. She's wet here too, and very excited.

Yeah, Tina's learning a lot about exciting women, too. She's become a very accomplished little muff-muncher.

I slide my fingers inside Lila's pussy lips and she moans and grinds her cunt into my hand. We're kissing like crazy, doing with our tongues what she would like Jack doing in her pussy. She gets wet as she orgasms in my hand, and begins to moan.

Tina comes again, hard and wet, yelling as the orgasm hits. Then she moves, sitting up and grabbing Lila.

She pulls her away from me and onto the desk, kissing her wildly. Jack loses his home, and Tina puts Lila's hand to her open cunt.

Yeah, I get the signal. I open Lila's legs and she moves down toward me on the desk, opening her classy little pussy for me.

I put Jack, still dripping with Tina's excitement, at her opening. Lila moves down and he moves up, and it's the Hide Jack game all over again.

Where's Jack?

There he is!

I fuck Lila. Damn, her cunt is different. She tighter and longer and less puffy feeling than Tina.

I'm not saying not as good. All pussy is wonderful.

She's just different. Jack likes different.

Lila starts groaning. Yeah, she groans and swears and makes little grunting noises during sex, like it almost hurts and she wants it to hurt better.

Then she buries her mouth in Tina's, and straightens, and Jack gets a hard squeeze as Lila comes off, hard.

He like that, so he really burrows into her, finding her cervix and trying to crawls through it.

It's a good thing Lila and Tina are kissing, because it helps muffle Lila's moans, which are getting really loud. I give Jack his head, and he plays battering ram with Lila's cervix.

And Lila's cervix is loving it.

Lila comes, really hard, wrapping those strong legs around me, and forcing Jack deep into her body. She screams, short, hard screams, forced out of her with each spasm. Her cervix writhes against Jack's head, and he decides to join the party, coming right onto her sensitive cervix and bringing Lila off once again.

Lila lays on the desk, gasping, saying, "Shit, shit, shit," over and over again with each breath.

Tina looks up at me and smiles.

"Happy Valentine's Day," she says.

Bad Dolly's is decorated for the celebration, with hearts and cherubs and all that crap.

Now, I don't want to come off as unromantic or cynical. But all these husbands and boyfriends bringing candy or flowers or mushy cards to their loved ones aren't hoping to get a little peck and a smile.

They're hoping to get laid.

I'm not cynical.

I'm realistic.

Saint Valentine is the patron saint of fucking.

You can sure tell that from the crowd at Dolly's. Babes in every state of sexy, from the well dressed, classy dames to the down and dirty slutty bitches.

I like em all.

Some guys are here too. A few are in drag, and others are gay, and with their boyfriend. Then there's the lookie loos, the straight guys with their girlfriend, checking out the Lesbian action.

Guy probably hopes his girlfriend will realize she's bi and fall madly into bed with some hot babe.

And he, being the nice, supportive guy he is, will jump right in and help.

I see an attractive older woman, maybe fifty, nicely dressed in slacks and a pretty blouse. Shit, older woman. She's maybe my age.

Look, folks, I gotta be honest here. Good pussy is good pussy. Hell, I've fucked women in their sixties that could put a twenty year old to shame.

This woman looks familiar. It takes a second, checking out the heavy makeup she's wearing. At first I think it's to cover aging.

Then I see the swelling, and realize it's covering bruises.

This is the woman I saw at Elizabeth Master's house.

I get up and approach her. She's trying to light a cigarette and I pull out my trusty Zippo and light it for her.

"Thanks," she says, looking up at me. I see the doubt flash across her face.

Yeah, guys do try to pick up women in Lesbian bars. Hell, it works sometimes. There's a little thing called a "gay-check," where a Lesbian babe gets to wondering if she's really straight.