For Want of a Memory
Copyright© 2008 by Lubrican
Chapter 17
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 17 - Kris just wanted to get to a quiet place so he could write his next book. He didn't know getting there would involve events that would make him the object of a manhunt led by the governor's wife, steal his memories and bring him together with the woman he'd been looking for all his life.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Humor Spanking Interracial Oral Sex Petting Slow
"What was that all about?" asked Kris, when Lou Anne had left.
"What was what all about?" asked Mitch, looking over his shoulder at Lou Anne.
"One minute you're all balls and testosterone and the next minute you're as meek as a lamb."
"I know how she can get when she's pissed off," said Mitch. "You should have figured that out by now, too, as much time as you're spending around her."
"And how much time is that?" asked Kris. "You ARE following me ... aren't you."
"I'm paid to keep an eye on things," said Mitch, a bit uncomfortably. "Don't worry about it. It's so boring in this town that I have to come up with little exercises to keep myself sharp. I bear you no ill will. You have my word on that."
"Until you find some reason to think I'm a crook," said Kris.
"Well, of course," said Mitch, tossing a hand toward the ceiling. "Even then, though, I won't wish you ill. Lots of people make mistakes and get into trouble. Not all of them are a danger to society."
"What about that being my friend crap?" asked Kris.
"Who says it's crap?" asked Mitch. "Is there any reason we can't be friends?"
"Friends don't arrest friends," said Kris.
"That's a crock," said Mitch, reaching for the sugar. "I've had to arrest some of my friends before. Just because I arrest them doesn't mean we can't be friends."
"Sounds complicated to me," said Kris.
"Well it's not. You screw up, you pay the piper. That doesn't mean I have to hate you. You ARE an interesting guy and I hope you DO get your memory back. If there's a problem in your past, then we'll both just have to deal with that. Until then, why can't we be civil to each other?"
"And keeping an eye on me is being civil," snorted Kris.
"I'm here ... right across from you," said Mitch. "You can ask me any questions you want to. If I can answer them I will."
"In exchange for what?" asked Kris, his voice guarded.
"Like I said. You're interesting. You've been around. Who knows what you'll remember, but I bet most of it will be interesting. You know I'm not the only person keeping an eye on you, don't you?"
"You're not?" Kris looked puzzled.
"The preacher and about half his flock," said Mitch. "Anywhere you are, other than work, one of them is likely to be, doing this or that. I think they're getting bored, though. They don't find you half as interesting as I do."
"You're kidding," said Kris, looking around. The first person he saw was Butch Flannery, who had loaned him the car. He was sitting with two other men who looked familiar. Butch nodded to him and smiled, as if it were a chance meeting. He looked back at Mitch. "You're not kidding," he said, his voice hushed.
"Like I said, they were a lot more interested in you a couple of weeks ago than they are now. If you'd had some odd visitors, or gone off to do strange and mysterious things, they might have gotten fired up. But the truth of the matter is, Kris, that you just act like any normal guy. You got a job. You're working on a book, which people expect an author to do. You shop here in town. You haven't gotten any deliveries from Fed Ex or any of those boys. You, my friend, are just Joe Average."
"Damn, you know a lot about me," said Kris. "Have you found out anything from my past?"
"If I do, I'll ask you about it," said Mitch. "And, just so you don't feel like you're under a microscope, I don't know all that because I've had you under surveillance. I know all the guys whose delivery schedules bring them here and I know most of your neighbors. They like you, by the way."
"Why?" asked Kris. He hadn't talked to any of his neighbors yet.
"You're quiet," said Mitch. "People like things quiet around here."
There was a pause in the conversation as Lou Anne served Mitch and refilled Kris' coffee cup. She didn't say a word to either man. It gave Kris time to take a few more bites and think, while Mitch dug into his breakfast. He hadn't been around long and he had nothing to go on, but he trusted Lulu's instincts. If she was suspicious of Mitch Connel, then she probably had reason to be. He looked up at the man.
"What do you want to know?" he asked.
"Pardon?"
"I think Lulu's right. You're cozying up to me for some reason. OK. Fine. I've got nothing to hide. What do you want to know?"
"We can't just be friends?" asked Mitch, around a mouthful of eggs.
"Maybe," said Kris. "After I've answered your questions, I figure I'll find out. You may just lose interest in me once I've told you everything I know."
"I am wounded," said Mitch, somewhat theatrically. "But I understand. I might feel the same way if I were in your shoes. So, just to satisfy you, I'll ask you all kinds of questions and then maybe we can get on with the budding friendship. How's that?"
"You're a slick one, Officer Connel," said Kris, squinting his eyes. "You're pretty good at your job ... aren't you."
"They haven't fired me yet," said Mitch, smiling.
Kris sat for a while longer. "OK, shoot," he said.
Without pause for thought, Mitch asked the first question. "You're hiding something from me. I'd like to know what that is."
Kris lost his appetite. He put his fork down. How did the man know? Was he really THAT good at his job? At the same time, he was tired of worrying about that single memory of the man, the crunch of metal, and the scream he'd heard. Still, there was obvious danger in talking about that, as much as he wished he knew the rest of what had happened.
"If I tell you that, I might be in trouble," he finally said. "Something happened and I remember part of it, but not all of it. I don't know when it happened or where it happened, but it's the kind of thing the law frowns on."
Mitch heard in Kris' voice what he'd heard in countless other voices. The average person, who uses bad judgment or succumbs to temptation, or is just in the wrong place at the wrong time and gets into trouble because of it, usually wants things to come out into the open. Their conscience bothers them. They're not criminals, at least not in the classic sense. And, more often than not, they aren't a danger to society. They feel remorse and that is the best defense against a repetition of the behavior, whatever it is. Sometimes it was better to have the information than it was to prosecute the offense.
"You might notice that I haven't advised you of your legal rights," said Mitch.
"We had this discussion, already," said Kris.
"How about you trust me to tell you when you're getting in too deep," suggested Mitch.
"I'd be insane to do that," said Kris. "You're a cop!"
"I'm an honest cop," said Mitch. "That's the difference." He took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. "All I can say is that I'll try not to put you in a bind."
Kris thought about that. Could he trust this man? It would be good to get that memory off his chest.
"I'll think about it," he said. "That's all I can say for now."
"Sounds fair," said Mitch. "Now, let me ask you about something else."
"What?" asked Kris.
"What is it that Jessica doesn't want you to talk about?"
"Jessica?"
"The other day. She wanted to make sure you wouldn't tell anybody what you saw."
"Oh, that," said Kris. "I told her I wouldn't tell anyone. You were there. You should remember that."
"Of course I remember it," said Mitch. "But I want to know anyway."
"I can't tell you that," said Kris. "I promised."
"She didn't break the law or anything ... did she?"
"Of course not. It was just a stupid party." Kris was suddenly disgusted with himself for divulging that little fact.
"A party..." Mitch leaned forward. "A party you were invited to?"
"No, I was just watching Ambrose, while they had this party," said Kris. "Why do you want me to break a promise?"
"I don't want you to break a promise," said Mitch. "I'm just naturally curious, that's all. And now you don't have to break your promise. I know exactly what party you're talking about."
"Oh you do, do you?" said Kris, sounding skeptical.
"Yup. It has to be the one Alice Zucker was at over at Lou Anne's place."
"How do you know that?" asked Kris. "Not that I'm saying she was there. I don't know anyone named Alice Zucker."
"Of course not, but I heard Phil, her husband, talking about something she bought at that party. He said it was the best fifty bucks he ever spent. I got the impression she got something slinky to wear in the bedroom."
"Do you spy on everybody?" Kris' voice rose.
"Not so much," said Mitch, grinning. "I just listen. People talk and you can pick up a lot of information if they talk loud enough." He took another bite and spoke again after swallowing. "So it was a lingerie party?"
"You already know it was," said Kris.
"And how is it that you ended up getting to see something?"
"You don't give up, do you?" suggested Kris.
"As long as you don't tell me whatever it is that Jessica is so worked up about, you haven't broken your promise, now have you? But that doesn't mean you can't talk about the rest of it."
"Damn I hope you never come after me for real," sighed Kris. "You're like a bulldog."
"Arf, arf," said Mitch. "What was it? G-strings and bras with holes in them, maybe?"
"Of course not," said Kris. "It covered everything." He slapped a hand over his mouth.
"Well then why is she so determined to keep it a secret?" asked Mitch.
"I'm not saying another word," said Kris, uncovering his mouth. "I remembered some other things about Australia. You want to hear about that?"
"Sure," said Mitch easily. He leaned back. "Australia sounds interesting."
If Kris thought that Lou Anne hadn't noticed Mitch grilling him, he was mistaken. When he got to her house that night, she met him dressed in a black T shirt with a grinning white skull on the front. He almost choked as he realized that the burning balls that represented the eyes were positioned precisely over her obviously braless nipples, which made those burning balls jut out from the grisly face. Black vinyl pants covered her legs and she was wearing Doc Martins that had a leopard print on them. She looked thoroughly dangerous.
"Hi," she said, her voice so cheerful that he couldn't rationalize it as coming from a woman who looked like she was some biker's mol. "So, what was Mitch trying to get out of you this morning?"
"Why does everybody have to ask me questions I don't want to answer?" he moaned.
"I'm not just anybody," she said archly. "I'm the woman who saved your life. You owe me."
"Just shoot me and get it over with, then," he sighed. "It would be easier than trying to juggle all these questions.
"What's to juggle?" she said brightly. "We have no secrets. You just tell me what he wanted to know and I'll tell you how much trouble he's in."
"Why would he be in trouble?" asked Kris.
"Because I told him to leave you alone," said Lou Anne.
"He has to do his job," said Kris.
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