Bang, You're Dead

"Okay, good. I need coffee before anything though."

"On its way," she replied.

He no longer sat down when Angie's voice came over the intercom. "Bob, Visual Concepts is on line one. They have three new potential employees they need background checks on."

"Thanks, Ang." Bob picked up the phone in one hand and a pen in the other. This was not the first time they'd worked for the company, in fact he knew their HR director by her first name. "Hi, Susan, this is Bob. How can I help you?"

"Hi, Bob; I have three new names for you. You know the routine, criminal records, driving records, outstanding child support, work history, the works."

"Shoot, Susan." Bob heard the door to the outer office open and close as he was taking down the names and figured it was Troy. After getting the information he needed on the three prospective employees he wandered out to check on the coffee. Troy was sitting opposite Angie's desk, waiting with a cup in his hand.

"Hey Troy, Angie says you might have something on Bracken?"

"Yeah; first I discovered what originally looked like a warehouse he was renting. It was in the industrial district but the thing was it was a lot of money for a warehouse. I got thinking, remember a couple years ago when they converted a bunch of those old warehouses to condos and apartments? I think that's what it is, one of those converted apartments."

"Just the place to keep a mistress, huh," Bob speculated.

"You got it. I called Jimmy on my way home this morning. He's going to check out the address."

"On the way home this morning?" Bob repeated a little confused.

"Yeah, he fell asleep at his desk last night," offered Angie.

Bob looked at his partner and slightly shook head. Ah, the life of a bachelor, he thought with just a little envy, no one to answer to but himself. But then he remembered making love to his wife and helping his kids with their homework the night before. Yeah, a little more freedom would be fun but he had to admit to himself, he wouldn't trade his family for anything.

"But there's something else," Troy said, interrupting his partner's thoughts. "He's got some funny banking practices. I think he's either laundering money somehow or he's got some kind of a tax dodge going."

"No kidding? I just got three new background checks from Visual Concepts. I'll get started on those. You drink your coffee," he told Troy with a nod. "When you're done bring what you found into my office. We'll go over it together. Maybe by that time we'll hear from Jimmy and know if he's warehousing something or someone."

"Will do," Troy agreed.

"Here you go, boss." Bob took a cup of fresh coffee from Angie's outstretched hand.

"Thank you, gorgeous. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you."

"Hmmph," she snorted, "probably buy stock in Starbucks."

***

Salty sacraments of guilt quietly made their way down the soft skin of Morgan's face as she sat in her kitchen. With Ian already at work and their two sons on their way to school, she had only her shame to keep her company. The previous night she had made love--true love to her husband. Now, over her second cup of coffee, she cursed her vulnerability when it came to her affair with Robert.

It was not the first time she struggled with her conscious. In fact the absurdity of contradiction was maddening. When she was with Robert she felt so alive, so electrified. For a few hours she could literally step away from the normalcy of family life and become someone else entirely. Robert's life was filled with excitement and danger. It was like being in a Dashiell Hammett novel--like sleeping with Sam Spade. All the melodramatic precautions they took to make sure they weren't discovered just added to the sensationalism of each rendezvous. It was exhilarating.

It was that need for a little excitement and danger in her life that originally drew her to Ian in the first place. He was a well-known investigative reporter at the time they met; his byline was constantly displayed on one breaking news story after another. After a whirlwind romance they married and she experienced the adventure of his profession vicariously through her husband until...until he took the desk job. As much as Ian would miss the thrill of the hunt, he had one child and another on the way. Being city editor meant better money and much better hours. With a growing family to think about, the decision was a no-brainer.

By that time they were both settling into domestic tranquility. Morgan hadn't even realized that she missed the fascination of living with a daring investigative reporter until she met Robert one day while having lunch with Michelle, a mutual friend.

Morgan felt a tingle that she hadn't felt in years when Michelle introduced the ruggedly good looking man as a private investigator. "Really?" she asked, her voice expressing her excitement. "Do you know my husband, Ian Anderson? He used to be a reporter for the Times."

"Ian Anderson," he repeated while joining the two ladies for lunch. "Yeah, I remember him. He was a damn good reporter. What happened to him? I haven't seen his byline in ages."

"They promoted him," she explained. "He's on the day's shift city desk now."

"I see; does he like it? I mean it's got to be boring after being in the field for so many years. I couldn't do it."

"I guess he likes it. He doesn't talk that much about work anymore. We have two boys that keep him busy these days. He's totally devoted to them...and me," she said as an afterthought.

Robert tried hard not to show it but he was immediately captivated by Morgan's mesmerizing eyes. He too had a family but something about her stirred his deepest alpha male reflexes. He wanted her; wanted to take her—hard. Of course a real man doesn't give in to feelings like that...not unless the woman was willing. Maybe he'd find out one day.

He sat over lunch and enthralled the two ladies with his newest exploits before rising and picking up the check.

"Oh know," protested Michelle, "you don't have to do that. Let us treat."

He chuckled. "Michelle, when have you ever known me to let a lady pay for her own meal?" It is my honor to pick up the tab for the two most beautiful ladies in the whole place."

He knew it was a brazen thing to do in front of Michelle. After all, she was good friends with his wife; he just couldn't help himself. "Morgan, it was nice meeting you. Please give this to your husband and let him know that if the paper ever needs a good Private investigator, I'm available," he said, passing a business card to his new acquaintance. Of course he hoped she'd keep the card for herself, which is exactly what she did.

That was over two years ago. Since then not a day went by that she didn't feel guilty and mornings after a night of love making with Ian were always the worst. The time was coming when she had to end it; when she had to give up that small corner of her life that made her heart pound and her pulse race. She wasn't quite ready yet but soon...before anyone ever found out.

***

Troy quietly rapped on his partner's door before entering. "Bob, here's what I dug up on Bracken. Look at all the accounts this guy has; and they're all in different banks. I'm not sure what he's up to but look at this," he said spreading several papers over Bob's desk.

"Okay," he started, "his corporate account is at First American but his payroll account is at the Harrison. Then he's got some kind of a slush fund account at Ameribank. His personal checking account is in the Civic's savings and loan but his personal savings and some investments are with First Chicago. But here is the payday. I'm sure these are corporate shell companies tied to him as well; and, here are several more accounts in foreign banks with links to the same companies. Here's one in the Cayman Islands. Here's another one in Martinique," he said pointing out a couple other accounts. And here, look at this," he said, pointing at a sales transaction he had circled. "I know this neighborhood, Bob. This was sold for at least three times what that house is worth."

Bob studied the several sheets of financial records. "Jesus," muttered Bob while following the money trail. "I see what you mean about his banking practices. I think you're right; my guess is he's laundering money."

"Troy, Jimmy's on line three," announced Angie through the intercom.

Troy reached over and hit the speaker button. "I'm in Bob's office, Jimmy. We've got you on speaker. What'd you find out?"

"Well, she's got red hair, green eyes, and a body that would stop traffic on the Autobahn."

"That address was an apartment then."

"Yeah, and lucky for us each apartment has its own address, not just an apartment number. I found a pretty full dumpster in the alley in back so I did a little trash digging. She's obviously not that smart, I found rent receipts and utility bill receipts. They're all in a corporate name."

"What's the name?" Bob asked.

"Ah, hold on," he said while pulling the receipts from his pocket, "Continental systems, Inc."

"Right here," said Troy, pointing the corporate name out to Bob from one of their financial lists.

"I also found credit card receipts from some high end clothing stores under the same name."

"Jimmy, we found a bunch of financial accounts that we think can be traced back to him. That name is on two separate accounts."

"Good, we're getting somewhere then. Oh, you guys also owe me an extra two hundred bucks. I bribed the guard in the lobby. Her name is Maranda Hardiken. He told me she usually left her apartment around eleven. He described her to me and told me he'd point her out by helping her with the door and stepping outside with her. I got shots as she left. Bracken has good taste. She's a knock out. I also showed the guard a couple of surveillance shots that I took of Bracken and he confirmed that he spends a lot of time there."

"Good work, Jimmy. Come on in, I'll have Angie reimburse you the two hundred from petty cash."

"You got it, boss."

Troy disconnected the line. "Well, we got what we were hired for. All she wanted was confirmation that he had someone on the side."

"Yeah," said Bob, not too enthusiastically. "But if we blow the whistle to his wife now we might screw up something a lot more lucrative. Remember that case a couple years ago? We got ten percent of almost two mill from the IRS for blowing the whistle on that restaurant owner, I don't remember his name."

"Harriton, the restaurant was The Blue Spruce."

"Damn, you've got a good memory, Troy. Looking at all of Bracken's accounts here, this could be even more. He's got to be laundering some big bucks here and you know damn well he's not reporting it."

"Yeah, but we can't hold this information back from our client, Bob."

Bob thought for a moment. "You need to call her. Be up front with her. Tell her we have what she wanted but we also found out he's probably stashing a lot money in foreign banks. Ask her if she wants us to track it down so he can't hide it when it comes to splitting the assets. Tell her it could mean a lot bigger settlement for her.

"In the mean time we can have Jimmy continue his surveillance and possibly get some pictures of Bracken with his girlfriend. If she goes for it I'll give this to Steve Benedict. If anyone can follow the money trail, he can. If he can tie Bracken to these foreign accounts we'll give the whole package to Mrs. Bracken and the Feds at the same time."

"Sounds good to me," acknowledged Troy. "Listen, I'm going to Indiana tomorrow to follow up on some leads down there for Andrea. I hope I'm wrong but it looks like her real mother might be dead too. Poor kid; I still don't have a line on her dad yet but I'm hoping to be able to come up with something down there."

"Okay; check in with Angie once in a while when you're down there and make sure you keep all your receipts. They're deductible you know—even when we're working pro bono."

"Absolutely; anything else you need?"

"You can take one of these employee background checks if you'd like."

"No problem; pick one out for me."

Of the three candidates for employment at Visual Concepts, the two that Bob checked out passed with flying colors, the one Troy worked on turned out a little differently. The guy was using an alias because he had a record and an outstanding warrant under his real name, Harry Lindsburg. Troy recommended they not hire him and at the same time, it was his obligation to inform the police of the guy's whereabouts. He made the call the following morning before leaving for Indiana.

***

It had been only a few days since their last interlude but Morgan had already started checking her burner phone for text messages. She and Robert usually only got together every five or six weeks, sometimes it was longer than that, but she still checked her phone daily.

She looked around to make sure no one was watching on the way to her car. She reached under the seat and found the button. One push and the hidden tray popped out. She took out the pay-as-you-go phone and checked—nothing. Morgan closed her eyes and sighed, partly from disappointment but also with relief. The longer her affair continued the more anxiety she felt.

Professional or not, they'd been extremely lucky over the past two years. Sooner or later that luck was going to run out, it was inevitable. She couldn't let that happen. She had to call it quits—and soon.

She was still in a pensive mood when the boys came home from school; one of whom was sporting a black eye. "Adam," she shrieked as she jumped up from her chair and rushed to his aid. "What happened?"

Adam fidgeted in his mom's overprotective embrace. It was embarrassing.

"He got suspended for fighting," his younger brother, Landen, volunteered with a snicker. "The principle gave him a note to give you."

Adam gave his brother a dirty look as he dug in his pocket and handed the folded paper to his mother.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Anderson,

Your son was caught fighting with another boy on school property after school today. We have a zero tolerance policy on fighting; therefore, Adam has been suspended for three days. We also require a meeting in the principal's office with one or preferably both of Adam's parents before he can be re-admitted.

Thank you,

Daren Daily, Principal

"Adam, you know better than this. What was it about?"

"Nothing," he scowled.

"Peter Donnally kissed Becky Toliver," Landen blurted out.

"Who is Becky Toliver?"

"Geeze, mom, she's Adam's girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?"

"Not anymore," Adam said emphatically.

Morgan wasn't sure what to say. She didn't want to belittle her son but he was only eleven years old...way too young to have a girlfriend. She decided this was more suited for a man to man talk with his father.

"Come on, young man, let's put some ice on that," she said heading for the fridge. "Then go up to your room. I pity you when your father comes home."

Adam winced as he held the packet of frozen peas to the side of his eye and marched up to his room. "Blabbermouth," he scolded his younger brother along the way.

Ian worked from seven to three-thirty so he was home only an hour later. Morgan met him with a kiss then informed him of his son's fighting over a girl at school, the suspension, and the fact that she had to go to see the principal before they'd let him back in school. She let him sit and nurse a cup of coffee before going up to talk to their delinquent son. He was in no hurry...

"Well, are you going to go talk to him?"

"Yeah," he moaned getting up from the kitchen chair. "I'll go tell him to jab with the left and block with his right next time," he joked.

The door to Adam's room was open so his dad walked in and sat down on the bed to look at his son's swollen eye. "He caught you pretty good, didn't he? Who threw the first punch?"

"He did; well, I guess I pushed him first though."

"Ah huh; I see. This Becky, is she pretty?"

"She's the prettiest girl in the whole school, dad. We've been going steady for two weeks. Pete had no right to kiss her like that."

"Did he know you and Becky were going steady?"

"Sure; everybody in class knew."

Ian slightly sighed. Being the responsible parent meant he couldn't say what he wanted. He wanted to tell his son he did right. A man has to stand up for himself and any guy who goes after someone else's girl deserves a good beating. Maybe he could have that talk with his son in another few years. For now he had to be that responsible parent.

"Adam, you know better than to start fights, even if it's over the prettiest girl in school. Civilized people don't throw punches because someone does something they don't like. I spent most of my life as a reporter, son, and believe me, words can do more damage than a punch in the mouth."

Ian went on to explain how talking is always better than fighting when it comes to solving a problem. He told his son everything he knew a good father should about fighting. As he wrapped up his twenty minute lecture he gathered the boys to go downstairs for dinner.

Later that night, when the boys were asleep, Morgan lay in bed next to her hubby. "So, did you reprimand him for fighting?"

"Yes, honey."

"You're a good daddy," she said as she moved her hand down Ian's stomach until she reached the family jewels. "I think you deserve a reward for being such a good daddy," she commented before engulfing his hardened love pole.

Ian closed his eyes to savor the softness of his wife's lips sliding up and down his cock. God, she was so damn good at giving head. His skin was stretched so tight it hurt, but he wasn't about to ask her to stop.

She caressed and tickled under his balls as her tongue swirled over his manhood. As his moans became louder and closer together she moved up and impaled herself. She leaned forward and rubbed his chest as she watched her man enjoy his ecstasy.

As much as she would love a mind blowing orgasm, this was not about her. It was all about him. She needed to show her love and appreciation to the man in her life. She slammed her hips down and held herself in place as Ian groaned and writhed with euphoria, shooting again and again into his wife's love canal.

Not until she felt it shrink and slip out did she stretch along his body and kiss his lips. "God, how I love you," she said with smile.

Ian placed his hand at the back of her head and gently pulled into another kiss. "I love you too, babe, with all my heart."

As Ian slipped into dreamland, Morgan laid awake thinking how very lucky she was. She had the best of two worlds. In one world she had Ian, an affectionate, devoted husband whose tender love making made her feel warm, secure, and like a queen. In the other world she had Robert, dashing, exciting, and whose aggressive sexual skills drove her to earth shattering orgasms and made her feel like a slut.

With a smile on her lips, she joined her husband in a peaceful slumber.

***

It wasn't quite nine in the morning yet when Troy passed the city limit sign for Lincoln Valley, Indiana, population 6,283. It took him only an hour or so in county records to learn Julia Giovanni was the woman he was looking for and was indeed dead; killed in a car accident just outside of town. From the paper trail he'd been following for the last month he was sure it was Andrea's real mother. He almost felt as if he'd lost a friend when he confirmed her death. He was hoping so badly that he'd be able to unite mother and daughter.

Troy went to the local police force to see if they had any more information on her family or perhaps Andrea's father. As he read the accident report a few things stuck out as being peculiar. He looked at a couple police photos of the mangled wreckage but it didn't look like it coincided with the woman's injuries. He had several questions for the small town sheriff but the answers were unsatisfactory at best and purposely evasive at worst. On his way out of town he went by the site where Julia was killed. It did nothing to alleviate his suspicions that there was something more to the poor woman's death. On the way back to Chicago he spotted a blue pickup truck three times but then it disappeared long before he got home so he thought no more about it.