Private Eyes

Since they obviously had no manners, I resorted to my usual back up plan. I simply got up and left, saying that I needed to call my wife. They continued talking as I left turning to my disinterested companion.

Chapter 3: Sarah

As I sat down at the table near Chris, I had plan in mind. I knew that most men would be all over me with just a little bit of encouragement. If I could get him to do something with me, depending on how far it went the case could be over quickly. It really did depend though on how far things went, because I'm not a whore and there was no way I'd sleep with the guy for a case.

Surprisingly though after letting me sit at his table he didn't initiate any further conversation. He seemed to be content to just look at the handful of product brochures he'd already gathered. Needless to say my ego took a bit of a bruising. I was just about to ramp up my activities when the need to do so was taken away.

Two obviously interested display models sauntered up to the table, sat down and began speaking to him. They never bothered to even ask whether or not we were together. They also immediately blocked me out of the conversation.

I booted up my laptop's camera and started video-taping the exchange. I was pretty sure these two would get some kind of reaction from him. They were both very pretty girls. The younger one was in her early to mid twenties. She had very long very light blond hair and green eyes.

She had large obviously fake boobs and a breathy little voice. She had to be at least 5' 11" and still probably weighed less than I did.

My ego was really taking a beating today. If this chick didn't get to him, her friend probably would. The other woman was older, maybe early thirties. She was Hispanic, also very pretty, but where her friend was the slutty looking type, this woman was class personified.

Her dark chestnut brown hair was set back in one long pony tail. Her breasts were small and perky, but perfect for her body. She had a booty that would put Jennifer Lopez to shame though. I was not going to win in any category with these two present.

They did whatever they could to engage him in a conversation. His answers were very long in coming and very short one word comments. Most people would have taken the hint that he didn't want to talk to them and left him alone.

These two never considered that he wasn't interested though, so he ramped up his defenses. It was almost painful to watch as he started punctuating all of his answers with hand gestures that clearly displayed his large wedding band. It was like he was practically screaming, "Leave me alone, I'm married."

Naturally, these two either didn't notice what he was trying to say, or simply, didn't give a fuck. I have run into some women who prey on married men. Married men are much less likely to raise a fuss or cause problems because they have far too much to lose.

After only a few minutes I could see frustration building in him, so he abruptly got up and left the table after telling the two bimbettes that he needed to go and call his wife.

After he left they finally noticed that I was there. "Hey, you two didn't know each other, did you?" asked the blond.

"We were just sharing a table," I replied.

"Good," said the brunette. "I've kind of got my heart set on that one."

"Why," I laughed. "Aren't they all the same?"

"For the most part," she said. "But I do about 10 of these things a year. I see a lot of guys come and go. Most of them start looking for pussy as soon as they hit the floor. They also pump up their jobs and their importance, when it's too easy to check. This is the fourth time I've seen him at one of these things and I've never seen him act unprofessional or inappropriate even once."

"He's also very well respected among the vendors and the companies they represent. He does business fairly and from what I've found out is in line for a major promotion in his company. Of course, his being married is an issue, but not an overwhelming one. I actually like the fact that he's faithful to her. It means he'll be just as faithful to me."

I had to laugh at her confidence. "What makes you so sure you can get him?" I asked.

"Just look at me honey," she said. "I can have any man I want without working up a sweat. And once he gets between my legs. He'll push a rusty spoon through his mother's forehead to keep me."

She looked me straight in the eye coldly. "And once I have him, I'll do anything he wants any way he wants it. I won't ever let him get away."

I don't know what I was feeling as I looked at her. Was she simply letting me know her intentions, or did she think I might be a threat to her plans? On some level I felt threatened by her as well. I didn't know why though. If she was successful in her quest it would actually help me. All I had to do was to follow her around and videotape them together. Then I'd have the evidence I needed.

But something told me that teaming up with her would not be in my own best interest.

"Well I just think he's cute, and I'm going to fuck him before this convention is over," interjected the blond. "Mara you can marry him and have forty babies with him after I'm done with him."

For some reason I was beginning to get angry. Luckily my cell phone rang and ended the conversation.

"Sarah, meet me at the Concession stand," said Darryl.

Five minutes," I said into the phone and then ended the call.

"Well ladies, good luck," I said as I gathered my belongings and got ready to leave.

"Who needs luck when you've got these," said the blond cupping her breasts. Behind us a man dropped his tray of food, slipped in it and fell heavily, in response to her action. Across the floor another guy ran into a pole and nearly knocked himself out.

"See what I mean," smirked the blond.

"Nice distance, Amy," said the brunette.

I came in this convention hall knowing that I was above average in the looks department, but next to those two I felt like a boy.

A few minutes later Darryl walked over to me, pretending he was showing me a brochure. Darryl is an African American so seeing the two of us together was quite noticeable.

"I've got something lined up for our target," said Darryl. "It's slightly under-handed but I'm desperate."

"Darryl, I'm supposed to be in charge," I said. "You should have checked with me first." he looked at me like a chastised school boy. Darryl was one of my best friends. He was very smart and had a degree in criminal justice.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm not trying to step on your toes, but we planned this before you were assigned to the case. We've been following this bastard for 3 weeks and haven't got anything yet.

I knew from previous experience that Darryl was very good at his job. Perhaps he was too good. He tended to get emotionally involved with the cases.

His involvement wasn't that he got to know the subjects or felt one way or another about them. His flaw was that he had never failed to deliver the goods on a target. In his mind he had a perfect record and he didn't want to see it bruised.

"What do you have planned?" I asked. Darryl quickly filled me in on the plan. According to the target's itinerary he would attend a video presentation set up by American Muscle. After that he'd return to his hotel for a while and then return for the Convention's opening night dinner.

The dinner would also feature dancing, with music provided by a live band. Darryl had not one, but four hookers set up to meet Chris, either at the video presentation or at the dinner. If even one of them succeeded in getting him in a compromising position, the case would be over.

"Okay, it's kind of like cheating, Darryl, but let's roll with it," I said. It was funny to me that though I'd agreed with the plan, deep down I didn't think it was going to work. After witnessing his performance with the two display models, my subconscious mind had formed an opinion on Chris Harris. Unfortunately my subconscious was not communicating or sharing any information with my professional, rational conscious mind.

My subconscious mind, also known as my heart, was telling me that the reason why the plan wouldn't work was because Chris Harris wasn't a cheater. That was also the reason why after nearly a month Darryl and Carl hadn't come up with as much as a shred of evidence.

An hour later I found the American Muscle booth and looked around for Chris. He was sitting very near the front in the second row. I spoke to one of the men walking around in American Muscle Polo shirts.

I correctly assumed that since he was wearing the company's shirt that he was helping to put on the presentation. After promising to have a drink with him at the dinner later, and hinting heavily that something else might be possible after dinner, he seated me in the front row that was reserved for American Muscle employees.

I didn't want to sit next to Chris again yet. Too many chance meetings, too soon would possibly alert him that they weren't just coincidences. This would be far better. By sitting in the row ahead of him, he'd have no choice but to see me.

On the other hand I'd pretend that I didn't notice him at all. In a way I'd still be making an impression on him without having to do anything at all. I could hardly wait for the show to begin. I wasn't thinking of the American Muscle presentation either.

Almost on cue a slim dark haired woman came into the presentation area. She looked around and slowly made her way over to Chris. She looked around and finally very tentatively asked him if anyone was sitting in the seat next to him. I couldn't hear his response to it but he did look around to see if there were any available seats anywhere else.

She was good, very good in fact. She sat down but not in the seat right next to him. She left an empty seat between them, but to make sure they weren't separated by anyone else she quickly put her purse in the seat between them.

This exchange also let me get to know a bit more about my target. Clearly Chris Harris didn't know how hot he was. Most men would have been broken their arms patting themselves on the back from all of the attention he was receiving from women. Chris was wondering why she wanted to sit near him when there were plenty of seats available.

The woman, who was one of Darryl's hired hookers, started trying to make conversation with Chris. I got excited. I knew that Darryl was behind them filming their exchange. I turned and pretended to look at something on the stage. Actually I was turning my ear so I could clearly hear what they were talking about.

The hooker asked Chris about the company and their products and what they could expect to see. Chris pretended that he didn't hear her and looked around as if he was trying to see who she might be talking to.

The hooker came at him from a different direction. She told him this was her first convention, so she didn't know what to expect.

Chris actually lied to her. He told her that he didn't know anything about the company either, so she should just watch the show and find out for herself.

He buried his head in a brochure hoping it would end the conversations. Then disaster struck. I watched as Mara and Amy entered the auditorium and made a beeline for Chris.

They weren't even trying to be subtle about their intentions. They simply walked up to the row he sat in, and Mara sat down in the empty chair on his right. Amy got ready to sit down in the chair on his left where the hooker had placed her purse. The hooker wasn't going for it though.

She moved her purse and sat in the chair herself. The Bimbettes had tried unsuccessfully to separate Chris from the hooker.

Chris quickly got up, and Mara grabbed his arm and tried to pull him back down.

"Honey where are you going?" asked Mara. Her slight accent, lent an air of the exotic to her words.

"I...I...I don't know you," Chris sputtered.

"Sure you do, we're old friends. You sat with us at the food court." said Amy, chiming in. The women's appearance alone had everyone in the vicinity watching the scene. As Chris had quickly stood up and started to leave, all eyes in the room were on him.

He looked around the room embarrassed, and our eyes met. In that instant time stood still and my heart went out to him.

In the back of my mind that fucking song started playing again.

"I see you, and you see me. I watch you blowing the lines when you're making a scene, oh girl, you've got to know. What my head overlooks my senses will show to my heart. When I'm watching for lies. You can't escape my Private eyes. They're watching you. They see your every move."

I've been doing the investigation thing for a while. I've gotten to the point where I can tell when someone is lying, or even when they're hiding something. In that moment I was torn.

On one hand as a professional I was intrigued by the situation and the chance to learn more about my target. My rational and professional brain told me to watch all of the players in the situation. See how they all reacted and compare their actions to their motivations, or what I knew of their motivations.

The bimbettes wanted Chris. They were slowly trying to draw him into their net. Every chance they had at contact they'd go for. Even a situation as disastrous as this one could be used for their end goal. Even with this seemingly blowing up in their faces it accomplished two things.

First it made sure he noticed them again. The more contact they had with him, the better it worked in their favor. Second it gave them the opportunity for further contact.

The next time they saw him they'd simply approach him and apologize for embarrassing him.

As an added benefit they got to screw up whatever plans the hooker had for him. Even though she wasn't doing well, they made sure she was rendered ineffective.

The hooker was trying to save her payday. Sure she'd get a few bucks for trying. But she'd get $500 if she could get herself into his hotel room and more if she actually got him in bed.

My heart on the other hand felt like I'd just shot a puppy. That was after all very close to what I'd done. I'd taken a man who I'd known deep down, was trying not to cheat on his wife, and thrown him to the sharks.

If I had any professional ethics, I'd just blown them. There was a big difference between watching someone who was cheating on their mate and getting evidence of it, and what we'd just done.

We'd actually tried to create an incidence of cheating. We had crossed the line and now I had to watch it blow up in our faces.

Chris just said, "Please excuse me." Then, using that uncanny balance and agility of his, he stepped over the back of the chair in front of him, and walked away. For just a second our eyes locked again and he looked away. I felt even worse. He'd been personally looking forward to see this presentation and I'd caused him to miss it.

Chapter 4: Chris

I went back to my hotel room. I was really angry about missing the American Muscle presentation. Not only because they were already a customer of ours and I wanted a chance to look over their new offerings but because they were my favorite supplier of after-market parts for my black 06 Mustang GT.

Something weird was going on. Those same two rude women from the food court were there. If I didn't know any better I'd think that they were following me. Maybe I'd accidentally done something to offend them and they wanted to embarrass me to get back at me.

I tried calling Helen at home. When I was really down, hearing her voice always made me feel better. Lately though, she seemed to always be in a bad mood. I seriously believed that she was going through menopause early.

It was starting to look like our decision to hold off from having kids until I got a job where I didn't have to travel as much might not have been the right one. It didn't matter to me as much though. I wanted to have kids, but I couldn't live without Helen.

"Why the he'll are you calling me?" said Helen, snarling at me from the phone.

"I just needed hear your voice." I said. "There are some strange people here. I'm not really having the best time."

"What do you expect me to do?" she asked. "Drop what I'm doing and fly to Detroit to hold your hand? God damn it Chris, you're a grown ass man. I can't do everything. A marriage is supposed to be a partnership. Hold up your end. I'm busy right now. Goodbye."

"I love you Helen," I said to the dial tone. Then I changed into a pair of long, running shorts and a tank. I grabbed my iPod and went to the hotel's workout room.

I loved to run and generally preferred to run outdoors, but I was in a strange city and didn't know the area very well so I decided to take the easy way out. I found a treadmill along the wall and got on it. I set the speed at a comfortable yet challenging pace and lost myself in the music.

Chapter 5: Sarah

After Chris left the presentation there was clearly no reason for me to stay either. The guy from American Muscle that I'd charmed earlier looked hurt that I was leaving before their presentation even started. "What about later?" he asked with a whining tone in his voice.

"Sweetie, as much as I was dreaming about fucking the shit out of you," I said. "There can't be a later. I'm doing this to protect you."

"Protect me from what?" he asked.

"My husband," I whispered. "He's very jealous and it looks like he followed me here." I winked at Darryl, and he got up and headed towards us.

"Here he comes now," I said. I watched as the guy's eyes got bigger when Darryl approached. Before Darryl got near us the guy was gone. "Let's get out of here," I laughed to Darryl.

Darryl and I went back to my hotel room to talk and to plan. Darryl was probably the most polite man I knew. He stood by the door in my room shyly, while I walked around grabbing things until I noticed him standing there.

"Darryl, it is okay for you to have a seat," I said.

"Well, that went really badly," he said. "I really think our girl had a shot at it until those other two whores showed up."

"Believe it or not, the other two weren't pros," I said. "The dark haired Latina thinks she's going to be his next wife."

"What about the volleyball player?" he asked.

"Her name is Amy, and she just wants to fuck him before her friend marries him," I replied.

"Well, I still think our plan has a chance at success," he said. "Our chances would be even better, if those two don't show up at the dinner."

"They probably won't be there," I said. "The dinner is for customers not vendors. So we should have a clear shot."

Darryl's phone rang and he answered it. It was Arturo, checking on us. Darryl ran him through what was going on and relayed the news from home. Carl's wife had gone into labor as soon as he got back. It was as if the baby had waited to be born until his or her Daddy was there to witness it.

As Darryl relayed the information to me, I had a strange thought. I wondered if I'd ever get married and have a husband and children of my own. Almost as soon as the thought popped into my head I expunged it.

I'd been having really weird thoughts since this case started.

"Darryl, what do you think about this case?" I asked him.

"It's fucking weird," he said. "This guy is pretty fucking sneaky though, I'll give him that. I'm not sure he isn't sneakier than the guy we caught who was fucking his kid's teacher though. But sooner or later they always slip up. Sooner or later we'll nail his ass. I'm sure of it."

"Darryl, why are you so sure he's cheating?" I asked.

"Oh my fucking God," said Darryl. "Listen to this." He played me the tape of Chris calling his wife at home after he left the presentation. Darryl thought it was funny as hell. He kept playing the last part over and over. "I love you, Helen...beeeeeeeep,"