The Philanderer

THE PHILANDERER

It had been a long and arduous day on the streets of Emerald Gulf, Florida.WLKN-TV17 News Director Brian Powers couldn’t recall the last time his staff was spread so thin.They’d spent the past twenty-four hours getting the scoop on one catastrophe after another.

Although the present set of circumstances were a bit unusual, Brian was no stranger to the lamentable chaos that can devastate a television newsroom.An honest correspondent with a reverence for his profession, the forty-seven-year-old archon had devoted his career to making WLKN a station the community could trust.

More than a decade at the helm of Northwest Florida’s oldest news outlet had taken a palpable toll on the benevolent broadcaster in the plain brown suit.Those somber dark eyes portrayed the misery that mercilessly plagued his thoughts.The majority of his ebony textured crop had turned gray.With two children in college and a vindictive ex-wife who thought caviar should be a breakfast staple, his back was against the wall.Nevertheless, there were obligations to be met and the affable administrator wasn’t one to shirk his duty.One of those responsibilities involved confronting the lanky individual who’d just appeared in the doorway.

His name was Wes Skylark.Brian recruited him from a major network affiliate in Orlando.His disheveled Caesar cut and facial hair suggested he’d been on a bender.Even though that Herringbone wool suit and Belvedere Vero alligator shoes weren’t new, they allowed him to maintain the appearance of a big city newsman.He worked hard to present a sophisticated front.There was no telling what he could’ve accomplished had he been willing to devote half that energy to an honest day’s work.

“What’s up, stuffed shirt?” Wes greeted his boss, as he stumbled into the office and flopped face-down on the Lesro Siena couch near the window.

“Where have you been, Wes?” Brian demanded.“Are you loaded again?”

“Of course not.I never drink when I’m working.I got loaded last night.”

“This is no joke, chump.When I brought you to this station five years ago, you had the potential to become a living legend.You were a star down south.Even after finding out about some of the shenanigans you pulled in Orlando, I convinced myself that you’d straighten up and fly right, but so far, you’ve continually let me down.And your co-workers are beginning to notice how lazy you are.”

“Do you have to yell?” Wes responded, forcing himself to sit up and take a look around the room.He pointed to the Oak Entry coat rack by the door.“That was a token of appreciation from the boys at the top.I believe the Falcon Northwest Talon computer was purchased at your request.And your Brayton Manor Cognac desk catches the eye of everyone who enters this office.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Isn’t it obvious?You have the respect of everyone associated with this station.You can tell the fat cats to back off.Then they’ll leave me alone and let me do what I do best.”

Brian leaned back in his chair.“So, you want me to give you the green light to goof-off and let others carry your load.You are the anchor of Panhandle People.The program was created for you because everyone thought your credentials would impress the syndicators. But your last few stories have been meager, to say the least. How long do you expect to perform so poorly before someone lowers the boom on you?”

“Well, I actually have a few ideas in mind,” he said.“I just need some time to develop them.”

“You’d better hurry.”

“What do you mean?”

“Wes, my life is spinning out of control.There are divorce attorneys out there who’d like nothing more than to roast me on a spit.I’m drowning in credit card debt and I’m on the hook for the mortgage on a house I no longer live in.I don’t have a lot of fight left in me.”

“What’s the bottom line, Brian?”

“The decision has already been made.There’s nothing else I can do.If Panhandle People’s ratings don’t pick up in the next two months, you’ll be replaced and assigned to the after-hours news segment until your contract expires.”

Wes rubbed his eyes and stood up.The expression on his face revealed the heart of a player who realized the past had finally caught up with him.All the wise cracks and one-liners couldn’t help him now.If he had the slightest chance of salvaging his career, the savvy charlatan would have to devise a fool-proof strategy that would appease the executives of WLKN.

While recent events had allowed a few of his colleagues to catch a glimpse of Wes Skylark’s dark side, they’d barely scratched the surface of his aberrant duplicity.Despite the praise and accolades the viewing public had bestowed upon him; his voracious nature had found no rest.Wealth and admiration were all that mattered.Regrettably, the narcissistic hustler was willing to use anything or anyone to remain at the top.

Wes left the television station and spent the next hour driving around town.Aimlessly roaming the streets on a blustery moonlit night wasn’t the pretentious operator’s idea of an exhilarating evening, but with a bruised ego and the threat of unemployment dangling above his head, he couldn’t think of anything better to do.About a couple of hours before closing time, the exhausted dissembler pulled into the parking lot of the Driftwood Diner.

CHAPTER 2

Wes had only visited the establishment a few times, but there was something irresistible about the Fly Ash block structure.The reporter in him was intrigued by the rows of NK custom booths and the Boom by Pedrali stools at the lunch counter.The huge storefront windows allowed the eatery to utilize natural light during the day while the Art Deco Pendant light fixtures provided the perfect mood for patrons who preferred to enjoy their meals after dark.A painting that depicted the Civil War Battle of Marianna created a distinctive focal point that enhanced the overall ambiance of the place.While one might argue that a hardwood floor and satellite radio seemed rather extravagant for a neighborhood greasy spoon, everyone in town knew the Driftwood Diner was one of the most successful businesses in the Tri-State area.The prosperity of this superlative hash house was largely due to the experience and intelligence of its creative proprietor, Cassie Drake.

Wes met Cassie when the fifty-six-year-old philanthropist ran for mayor fifteen years earlier.Despite the heartache and disappointment she’d experienced throughout the years, she was still the stunning beauty he remembered.That auburn lob with bangs and blunt edges adorned her compassionate countenance like a halo of silk.There was no mistaking her luminous smile and enchanting hazel eyes.Without a doubt, this munificent altruist was the most amazing woman Wes had ever known.Of course, it would take more than a charitable heart to temper the machinations of a cornered weasel without a conscience.

Wes buttoned his Kensington Heritage trench coat and approached the front entrance.Through the window, he could see Cassie pouring a cup of coffee.She was a vision in her Zero Restriction zip-front jacket and wide leg Palazzo jeans.Though the wealthy divorcee smiled when she looked up and caught sight of her old acquaintance, the pain in her heart was hard to miss.

“You’re out late on such a chilly winter’s night,” Cassie said, as she filled another coffee cup and placed it on a tray.“I guess you can hear my crew wrapping things up in the back, but if you want something to eat, I’ll see what I can do.”

“That won’t be necessary, Cassie,” he said, on his way to a corner booth.“I just need a glass of water for this aspirin.”

Cassie brought the tray to the table and sat down.“You’ve had quite a day,” she observed.

“The suits are really kicking me around,” he said, consuming the pills.“The television news business isn’t all glamour.”

“You didn’t seem so stressed out when you covered my campaign.”

“Those were different times.I was young and strong.The world was at my doorstep.”

“That was around the time you were offered the job in Orlando.You moved on to bigger and better things.Everything changed that year.”

“I never did find out why you quit the race.”

Cassie took a sip of coffee and peered out at the unsettling windy night.“Did you ever get married, Wes?” she asked.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head.“I guess I’ve never found that special somebody.”

“I thought I had, until rumors about my husband, Carl, began to surface.Confidential sources were telling certain members of the press about the nights he spent frequenting after hours joints on the east end of town.When I confronted him, he admitted to making a few stops at some disrespectable hangouts, but that was all over.I asked him to get out in front of the scandal and make a public declaration.He agreed.”

“Then there was no need to quit the race.”

“That’s what I thought, until the next morning.I walked into the kitchen and discovered the wonderful breakfast he’d prepared for me.I thought it was his way of reaffirming his commitment to our marriage, but I was wrong.”

“What happened?”

“He looked into my eyes and told me he was in love with another woman.”

Wes rubbed his chin and sighed.“I didn’t see that one coming,” he said.

“Neither did I,” Cassie responded.“Carl wanted a divorce.I didn’t know how many skeletons were hidden in his closet.And I certainly didn’t want my personal life all over the evening news.So, I pulled out.The split was amicable, considering he’d shattered my heart into a million pieces.”

“You seem to have handled it with a charitable attitude.”

“I didn’t get there overnight.But eventually, I came to realize that walking around with a chip on my shoulder would only destroy me.I took part of the settlement and found ways to benefit others.Without a doubt, I’m living my best life now.”

“Do you think you’ll ever find love again?”

“It’s funny you should ask,” she said with a smile.“I’ve been dating a man for the past few months.His name is Brady Mitchell.”

“Where have I heard that name before?” Wes wondered.

“He used to work security for the Kala Karenina Theatre on Park Street.In fact, Channel 17 ran a series of commercials advertising a tribute to classic romantic actors.I wouldn’t be surprised if you had some recordings of his voice at WLKN.”

“Why?”

“Well, the station manager at the time overheard a conversation Brady had in the hallway.He was intrigued by that baritone delivery.So, he had him read a few poems to enhance the production.”

“What does Brady do now?”

“He’s a pharmaceutical representative.He has to leave town almost every other week.”

Wes noticed the change in Cassie’s expression.“Is that a problem?” he asked.

The ambivalent dreamer took another sip of coffee and looked down.“I realize Brady and I have only been dating a little while,” she told him.“But I really believe we have a future.”

“But something’s troubling you.”

“He’s a few years younger than I am.And even though his explanations made sense, I’ve run into him a few times when he was supposed to be away on business.The last time I brought up the subject of marriage, he told me there were complications in his life we needed to discuss before making that kind of commitment.He seems to genuinely want to be with me, but I can’t help but wonder what he’s holding back.”

“It sounds like you have some poignant questions that need to be answered.”

“Carl made a fool out of me, Wes.I know I should just be an adult and get on with my life, but I can’t forget what happened.If a man ever hurt me like that again, I don’t know what I might do.”

A thought suddenly occurred to the cunning newshound.There was a way he could give his old friend the satisfaction she craved and save his career at the same time.“I think I can help,” he said.“I can put a tail on him.”

’What do you have in mind?” Cassie asked.

“If we find out he’s up to no good, we’ll take a news crew and confront him.”

“I’m not out to hurt him.”

“Of course not.I won’t do anything without your approval.But if he is into something shady, you need to know about it.I’d hate to see him take advantage of you the way Carl did.”

She thought for a moment and sighed.“Alright,” the hopeless romantic conceded.“But keep me informed every step of the way.”

CHAPTER 3

After leaving the Driftwood Diner and heading home for a good night’s sleep, it only took Wes a couple of days to devise a treacherous strategy that would incriminate Brady Mitchell whether he was complicit or not.Achieving that objective would require the scurrilous talents of someone even more devious than the slickest anchorman in Northwest Florida.

No one could explain the captivating mystique of Dori Belfry.At five-feet-eleven inches tall with a piercing gaze and sinewy frame, the thirty-seven-year-old private investigator had run interference for her morally bankrupt client more times than Wes could count.Intrinsic survival instincts and the ability to defend herself made this human bloodhound a perplexing force of nature.There was another attribute that compelled people in trouble to pay any price for her services.This extraordinary gumshoe was the epitome of discretion.When a desperate victim of circumstance sought her expertise, she would deal with the problem and make certain the press was none the wiser.

Yet, despite the skills Dori possessed, when some adversaries caught sight of those light-brown kinks with orange highlights and that alluring young visage, they tended to underestimate the prowess of the third-degree blackbelt.It was an error in judgment pragmatic aggressors seldom repeated.

Dori was a qualified professional with an impeccable reputation, but she wasn’t opposed to bending the rules to accomplish her goals.That was just the kind of callus approach to veracity that made her invaluable to a crook like Wes Skylark.

By the end of the week, Wes had set a plan in motion that would provide all the evidence he needed to convince Cassie that her new boyfriend was cheating on her.So, he arranged a meeting at the Grover Geering Community Park to touch base with his mercurial PI.

A brisk sunny morning was a welcome relief from the frigid conditions Wes endured the night he sought refuge at the Driftwood Diner.The barren trees and wind-driven clusters of leaves reminded the reflective cozener of simpler times when a guileless cub reporter believed his eloquent prose could change the world.Sitting on a wooden picnic table with his hands in the pockets of his WLKN windbreaker, he watched the children playing on the seesaw.For those precious youths, the priorities of life had nothing to do with chasing a dollar or making a name for themselves.After an enjoyable day of fun and games, they’d be making a mad dash to the hot dog vendor on the corner.Even the three teenage girls in pink jogging outfits seemed unconcerned about the addling and precarious society they would soon inherit.

The most intriguing individual in the park was sitting on a concrete bench several yards away from the vigilant anchorman.The elderly gentleman’s denim jacket and flat cap reminded Wes of his late grandfather.He’d never forgotten how hard that benevolent old man worked to keep his family together.His advanced age didn’t deter him from assuming the role of a single parent.

Nonetheless, there was only so much a disabled veteran with limited resources could do for his daughter’s orphaned children.So, at the age of nine, Wes and two of his younger siblings entered the foster care system.The indignities the displaced youngster experienced left a rage in the darkest chambers of his broken heart that compelled him to succeed at any cost.That was just one of the reasons why a cunning troubleshooter like Dori Belfry was perfectly suitable for the task he had in mind.

Wes could see the anticipation in Dori’s eyes, as he watched her pull into the nearest parking space and step out of her 1967 Austin Healey 3000.

Clad in Mid Rise Bootcut jeans, Double T combat boots and a jet- black barn jacket, the sanguine shamus ambled toward her stolid employer without a care in the world.“What’s up, Wes?” she asked, checking her RODO Golden Horse wrist watch.

“One of these days, someone from the IRS is going to wonder how a private investigator can afford to live so well,” he told her.

“If you’re referring to the car, it was a bonus from a grateful client.”

“You’re richer than most of your clients.”

“That’s because I go the extra mile.Of course, I could make a lot more money if I had access to some of your resources.A political secret or two could open the door to conversations with community leaders who want to explore the skeletons in their adversaries’ closets.”

“We’ve already had this conversation.You might as well forget it.I’m not brave enough to stick my head into that lion’s mouth.If the suits at WLKN ever found out that I was providing sensitive information to the most dangerous gumshoe in town, I’d be tarred and feathered.Besides, you’re a long way from skid row.How much money do you need?”

“You’ll find out after I complete this little job you have for me.”

Wes reached into the pocket of his khaki trousers for his cell phone.“This is the man I told you about,” he said, displaying a picture of Cassie Drake’s boyfriend, Brady Mitchell.

“He’s gorgeous,” the smitten investigator commented.“Just look at that sable Ivy League haircut and those dreamy green eyes.I’d love to caress that perfect cleft chin.”

“If this segment of Love Connection is over, I’d like to get down to business.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“I want to know what Brady is up to before I have another talk with his girlfriend, Cassie.”

“Didn’t you tell me she was an old friend of yours?”

“That’s right.”

“Are you going to have the nerve to tell her the truth if her man is actually playing around?”

“That’s already been taken care of.”

“What do you mean?”

There was a maniacal look on the anchorman’s face.“Thanks to the miracle of Artificial Intelligence, I’m going to prove he’s up to no good whether I catch him in the act or not,” he declared.

Dori touched her brow and sighed.“What am I missing?” she asked.

“It’s all rather simple.I used some recordings of Brady’s voice to comprise an expression of affection that could melt a woman’s heart.The female responses are just as convincing.It’s a real masterpiece; if I do say so myself.”

“How did you get a recording of his voice?”

“He did a poetry reading for a series of commercials at WLKN a few years ago.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because Cassie Drake is someone this community respects.The public is still interested in her.”

“But aren’t you creating a scenario that will make your friend an object of ridicule?”

“More than likely.You know how people enjoy trashing the good name of a local celebrity.Besides, she’s going to look like the victim.Most of the public will feel sorry for her.”

Dori shook her head.“Doesn’t this bother you at all?” she asked.

Wes looked intently at her.“I know how despicable it sounds,” he told her.“Cassie’s an intelligent businesswoman and a dedicated humanitarian.I don’t want to hurt her, but I’m in a tight spot.If I don’t get something on television that blows the minds of my viewers, I’ll be on the next bus to oblivion.I’m in a dog-eat-dog business, Dori.If I let sentiment get in my way, I’ll crash and burn.You certainly wouldn’t be where you are if you stopped to feel sorry for every casualty of war that landed at your feet.I grew up hard, sister.People took advantage of me without a second thought.As far as I’m concerned, this is my best shot, but I wouldn’t try to make you do anything you don’t want to do.So, are you in or out?”

“How do you want it to go down?” Dori conceded.

“Follow Brady around for a few days.See what he’s up to.If he gets near a woman, send me the images.AI will do the rest.”

Like so many individuals who’d been taken advantage of by soulless vultures who were convinced they’d earned the right to exploit the vulnerable, Wes set out to execute a plan that would devastate the life of a woman who’d never done anything to hurt him.

CHAPTER 4

The driven journalist had no doubt his eccentric investigator was capable of getting the job done.Yet, he was a little surprised to hear her question the probity of his antics.As far as he knew, she’d never been inhibited by a guilty conscience.In fact, it was her insensate approach and deceitful disposition that had facilitated the success of their lucrative arrangement.Wes considered himself to be a mentor to Dori.She’d never doubted his advice.Nevertheless, he was fully aware that his scheme would only be accomplished if they shared the same vision.So, for the time being, he’d have to keep an eye on his unpredictable partner in crime.

For a skilled professional like Dori, shadowing an unsuspecting mark all over town and documenting his activities took less than a week.She realized that manipulating the recorded movements of Cassie Drake’s evasive plus one into something that made him appear complicit would’ve taken considerable effort, but she was prepared to roll up her sleeves and get to work.Intriguingly, to the flabbergasted gumshoe’s chagrin, it wasn’t necessary.Brady provided all the evidence she needed.

Wes wanted to devise a strategy before revealing his deep fake evidence to Cassie.So, he arranged to meet his proficient PI in the parking lot of the Driftwood Diner.Beneath the gloom of a drizzly predawn sky, the desperate commentator sat in the passenger seat of Dori’s vintage vehicle and opened his laptop.

The double-crossing wretch smiled as he observed the image of Brady Mitchell holding the hand of a curvaceous blond in the pale moonlight.“I can’t believe this clown is actually cheating on Cassie,” he said.“He’s got to be crazy.”

“A lot more than you seem to realize,” Dori responded.

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you say Brady was a pharmaceutical representative?”

“That’s right.”

“Look at that Armani suit and Bally shoes he’s wearing.Last Saturday night I followed him to the Southern Rock Roadhouse.As you know, everyone can’t afford to catch a weekend performance at that place.”

“Tell me about it.It costs a fortune to hangout in the parking lot.That place is expensive.”

“The bouncer shook Brady’s hand and led him to a table near the stage.”

“Who does that guy have in his back pocket?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.I tried to get a handle on his past, but I hit a brick wall.It was as if Brady Mitchell didn’t exist before 2015.”

“People in high places must be protecting him.On the other hand, this beautiful long-haired blond may be taking care of him.What do you know about her?”

Dori placed her hands on the steering wheel and sighed.“The broad’s a bigger mystery than he is,” she told him.

“This is crazy,” Wes concluded.

“I found out her name is Sally Kenan.I traced her work history to a glove factory in Atlanta.Everything goes haywire after that.She has no criminal record and I couldn’t find anyone inclined to talk about her.There’s something very strange about these two.”

“Well, the name is obviously an alias.At any rate, she’s a woman of means.That Tampa Tote shoulder bag is worth at least a grand.”

“She’s also making quite a statement in her Horseshoe Low Rise Flare jeans and Fine Gauge Cardigan sweater.“I just wish I could get a handle on her identity.”

“That’s not our problem.”

“Are you kidding me?Once Cassie learns her man is hanging out with this woman, she’ll be thrust into a situation that could destroy her!We have no idea what we’re dealing with.”

“Cassie is a reasonable and decent woman.When she realizes what Brady is up to, she’ll dump the bum and get on with her life.”

“Are you sure those images are enough to validate her suspicions?” Dori asked.

“If they don’t, this will,” Wes declared, reaching into his pocket for a flash drive.“This is a conversation I put together.Brady is attempting to explain himself to a woman who’s tired of his foolishness.It took some time to get it perfect, but it sounds as natural as a legitimate phone call.”

Wes let his reluctant cohort listen to the disastrous dialogue he’d created.

“I’m tired of your excuses, Brady,” the female voice asserted.“You think I don’t know about that blond you’ve been sneaking around with, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“Listen baby,” Brady’s simulated voice pleaded.“That blond means nothing to me.We just go out for a drink every now and then.”

“What about that old lady who owns the diner?” the virtual female voice inquired.

Oh, she’s just a pathetic dame who has a crush on me,” Brady’s voice explained.“She’s always buying me gifts and calling me when I’m on the road.I’m going to get rid of her when the time is right.These things have to be handled with care.I feel sorry for her, but you’re the only one I love.”

An expression of sheer dread swept over Dori’s face.“Do you realize what could happen when Cassie hears that recording?” she asked.“You could be setting WW-III in motion!”

“Don’t be so mellow dramatic, Nancy Drew,” Wes told her.“Cassie is a peaceful and law-abiding citizen with a respected name in her community.She’s not going to do anything that would tarnish that reputation.”

“We’ve waded into some treacherous waters, Wes.A tidal wave of trouble could come crashing down on us because we didn’t take the time to investigate this thing from every angle.”

“Dori, Cassie’s reaction to her boyfriend’s cheating is our only concern.When she sees this evidence, she’ll read Brady the Riot Act.We’ve got to make sure it all goes down on live television.”

“You’re going to make Cassie look like a fool.”

“The majority of her friends and neighbors won’t see it that way.In fact, they’ll rally around her.The affection they expressed when she was running for office will be rekindled.She’ll be able to accomplish anything she desires.”

“You’d better know what you’re doing.”

“I realize you have misgivings about all this,” Wes admitted, looking through the storefront window of the Driftwood Diner.Cassie was preparing for the breakfast crowd.“The lights just came on inside and I have a feeling we’d better get in there before we become the victims of a serious downpour…It’s a cruel world, gumshoe.There are times when we have to use people in order to survive.”

“Even if one of those people is someone we call a friend?”

“Even if one of those people is someone we call a friend.Now let’s go have a talk with Cassie.”

CHAPTER 5

Cassie had arrived about a half-hour before the cooks and waitresses were due to clock in.So, for the next few minutes, the three of them would have some privacy.Since the two women were already acquainted, the straight-laced restauranteur wasn’t disturbed by Dori’s outlandish appearance.Considering the purpose of their meeting, a snoop with orange highlights and combat boots was the least of Cassie’s concerns.

Cassie was used to getting up before sunrise, but on this particular morning, her tired eyes didn’t reflect the joy she was known for sharing at the beginning of her day.She’d placed three mugs and a coffee pot on the table she and Wes occupied the last time they were together.The benevolent businesswoman had waited long enough to learn how her inscrutable suitor genuinely felt.It was time for the truth.

Wes and Dori sat down with Cassie and let her listen to the devastating evidence that had been pieced together by the shameless mind of a devious four-flusher.

As the former public servant struggled to conceal her outrage, a sudden downpour began to pummel the pavement outside.“Well, I guess that’s it,” Cassie concluded, running her fingers through her hair.“It looks like I’ve been a real chump.”

“This is the only the beginning,” Dori told her.“We don’t know the whole story yet.”

“I seriously doubt the scenario is going to get any better,” Cassie replied, rising from the table.“My employees should be arriving in a few minutes.You two can stay as long as you want.The waitresses will take care of you.I’m going to my office.”

“Don’t forget, Cassie,” Wes said.“We’re going to be keeping an eye on Brady.When I get everything set up, I’ll call you.Then we’ll confront him and you’ll be able to get some real answers.”

“Thanks Wes,” she said before taking her leave.

Dori rested her elbows on the table and clutched her forehead.“How far are you going to let this go, Wes?” she asked.“That woman thinks she’s been jilted and lied to.”

“I don’t know why this scam is eating at you this way,” Wes commented.“After all, we’re not talking about a choir boy here.You were the one who caught him with the blond.”

“I know, but fabricating that conversation could start a fire we can’t put out.Look Wes, I’m no saint.I’ve bent the rules to get what I wanted just like you have.But I’m putting all my cards on the table, man.I’ve got a very bad feeling about this.”

Wes took a sip of coffee and smiled.“I guess it’s in your nature to worry,” he said.“That’s one of the reasons why you’re such a good investigator.Just keep tracking Brady and be ready to move in when the time comes.Everything is going to work out.Trust me.”

The confidence in the conceited conniver’s eyes concealed the baleful ambivalence that made him wonder how long he’d be able to rely on his conflicted adherent.At any rate, the two of them left the diner determined to set a trap for Cassie’s trifling paramour.

CHAPTER 6

Following Brady around town without blowing her cover was quite a chore for Dori, but by the end of the week, she’d seen and heard enough to know where the reprobate Romeo had planned a midnight rendezvous with the latest object of his affection.

The A-frame modern style cabin located about a half-mile off the Graceville Highway could hardly be mistaken for a priceless honeymoon hideaway.Yet, the three-bedroom walnut wood structure was 2,000 square feet of unabashed serenity.Constructed on a beautifully manicured tract of Centipede Grass, its timber framing and clay tile roof gave the place an aspect that appealed to the senses of every passing observer.Although the area was partially visible by means of a nearby streetlight, the aesthetic allure of the entire property didn’t come to life until the early morning hours.A recent downpour had reinvigorated the azaleas and purple coneflowers along the anterior of the porch.Cords of firewood and the seven-piece Martinique picnic table suggested someone must’ve been in charge of maintaining the dwelling.Presuming the exotic haven was the gateway to paradise for two adventurous lovers; Wes was bent on making this night of passion a moment in time Brady Mitchell would never forget.

In a vacant lot down the road, Wes, Dori, and Cassie sat in a WLKN van and discussed the task that lay before them.

“This is it, sister,” Wes said to Cassie.“Now I know you’re hurting, but you can’t attack the guy.An act of violence will get us all into trouble.So, promise me you’ll keep it together.”

Cassie buttoned her sweater and looked at the slippery newshound.“You don’t have to worry about me, Wes,” she said.“I have everything under control.”

Dori didn’t want to press the issue, but the expression on her face revealed the doubts she had about the entire operation.“Did you bring the camera you wanted me to see?” she asked Wes.

“Oh yes,” he replied, pointing to the object beneath a blanket on the seat beside her.“If you’ll remove the cover, you’ll behold a masterful work of art.That’s the Sony FX30.It’s a small but powerful video camera with a 4K APS-C sensor.There’s a good autofocus system for fast-moving subjects and it’s perfect for flexibility on set.That baby is just right for the job we want to tackle tonight.So, if you ladies are ready, we can head to the cabin and teach Mr. Mitchell the finer points of fidelity.”

“I’m ready,” Cassie responded, as she exited the vehicle.

With the scorned woman outside, Dori touched her employer’s shoulder and attempted to make one more appeal to his sense of reason.“There’s still time to get out of this, Wes,” she told him.“Let’s put a lid on this thing before it blows up in our faces.”

“We’re on a roll now, Dori,” Wes said, reaching under the seat for a flashlight. “There’s no turning back.Don’t forget what’s at stake.”

The temperature was mild and the stars were brilliant when the resolute trio began their trek to Brady’s secluded love nest.The porch light was on, but there wasn’t a soul in sight.

“Well, we’re here,” Wes declared, aiming his flashlight at the door.“Get the camera ready, Dori.We’re about to go gigolo hunting.”

To everyone’s astonishment, the front entrance was unsecured.Wes walked in and scanned the room until he located a wall switch.When the lights came on, the shady anchorman was surprised a second time.

“This place is deserted!” Cassie exclaimed.“What’s going on here?”

“There’s not a stick of furniture anywhere,” Dori observed.

The PI was right.A wood-burning stove and an Antok full-length mirror were the only accessories left in the place.

Cassie darted up the white staircase to have a look in the bedrooms and the third-floor loft.“Brady!” she cried, opening and closing doors.“Come out and face me.What’s the matter, big man?Are you scared?”

Within the span of a heartbeat, Wes and Dori realized something terrible was happening to their irate client.Standing in amazement as Cassie came back downstairs carrying a Baccarat Harcourt Talleyrand Eminence Grise vase.

“Cassie,” Wes said.“What’s going on?”

“Everything’s fine,” she said.“I just wanted to let the creep know how I feel.”

Without warning, Brady’s hoodwinked significant other hurled the vase across the room, shattering the mirror!”

“What are you doing?” Dori shouted.

Sweating and trembling, Cassie paced the floor with clinched fists.Recognizing the danger they were facing, Wes and Dori moved in to restrain the self-destructive ravager.Taking hold of each arm, they wrestled Cassie to the floor, unaware that a tall man in overalls and a baseball cap had appeared in the doorway.

The impassive stranger didn’t seem addled by the battle royal taking place on the living room floor.At first glance, he appeared to be someone responsible for taking care of the property, but his work boots were polished and there wasn’t a wrinkle in that spotless flannel shirt.He had a stalwart build and a five o’clock shadow.Under normal circumstances, Dori would’ve been on him before he reached the front yard.Unfortunately, for the moment, she and her employer had their hands full.

“Let go of me!” Cassie demanded, struggling to break free.

“Not until you promise to get a hold of yourself,” Wes responded.

Cassie stopped resisting and sighed.“Alright,” she conceded.“Just let me get up.”

When the three of them returned to their feet, they took note of the unexpected visitor.

“Who are you?” Dori asked.

“My name is Ed,” he told them.“I take care of the place for Mr. Mitchell.May I ask what you’re doing here?”

“We’re friends of Mr. Mitchell,” the savvy investigator replied.“We dropped in and discovered all this broken glass on the floor.”

“Why were the two of you manhandling the lady?” Ed inquired.

“Well, Cassie has fragile nerves,” Wes explained.“She jumped to all kinds of conclusions when she saw this mess.She’ll be fine once we get her home.”

“I’ll have to call the police,” Ed told them.“Are you sure you people didn’t see anyone suspicious lurking around here?”

“Not since we arrived,” Wes assured him, as he endeavored to get himself and the two women out of there.“We haven’t been here very long…Don’t forget the camera, Dori.”

“How will I get in touch with you if the authorities have any questions?” Ed asked.

“We’ll keep in touch with Brady,” Dori said.“He’ll tell us what we need to do.”

On their way down the road, the vigilant private detective noticed a 2023 Park Avenue parked beside an abandoned mobile home in the distance.She began to wonder what was going on.The events of the night had gone terribly wrong and she wasn’t about to drop the matter.

When they returned to the van, Wes unlocked the doors.“Get inside and buckle up, Cassie.” he said, on his way around to the rear of the vehicle.

“I smell a rat,” Dori declared, opening the door and securing the video camera.

“Keep your voice down,” Wes whispered.“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t tell me you bought that caretaker’s act.”

“What do you mean?”

“Wes, your desperation has blinded you to the obvious.You can’t see what’s right under your nose.”

“Would you please make sense?”

“Open your eyes, man.That guy was no handyman.Our presence in that cabin should’ve made him crazy, but he didn’t break a sweat.”

“So?”

“Are you kidding me?He wasn’t even curious about the video camera.We are standing in quicksand, Wes.Let’s put an end to this foolishness before we sink any deeper.And don’t forget what your mild-mannered mark tried to pull back there.”

“I’m going to talk to her about that tomorrow.I’ll get her to calm down.We can still pull this thing off.Now let’s get out of here.”

Dori had a point. The prospect of being fired from WLKN had altered the fervid newscaster’s perspective.Nothing was more important than saving his career.While he began this scam with every element in place, Cassie’s outburst was a terrifying sign.He had to make sure she understood the significance of keeping her emotions in check.So, the next morning, he took a drive to the Driftwood Diner.

CHAPTER 7

It had been a long night for Cassie.The jealous restaurateur was at a booth by the window nursing a splitting headache and a wounded ego.There were four mechanics having coffee at the counter while several well-dressed elderly ladies engaged in a spirited conversation over breakfast.The waitresses were scurrying about their stations and taking orders by telephone.Wes realized the lunch crowd would probably be pouring in within the hour, so he wasted no time approaching his old friend and sitting down.

Cassie opened a bottle of aspirin and emptied two pills into the palm of her hand.“It looks like I’m the one who needs medicating this time,” she said, consuming the pain-relievers.“The rattling of those pots and pans in the kitchen is murder.”

“It doesn’t look like I have to ask you how you’re doing,” Wes commented.“What happened to you last night, Cassie.You’d convinced me that your head was on straight.Then you went crazy.”

“I know, Wes.Everything was cool until I looked around that cabin.That’s when I started imagining Brady and that woman lounging around, laughing at me.I wanted to kill the two-timing scum.”

“Do you want to quit?”

“No way, brother.I deserve an explanation and I want Brady to get what’s coming to him.”

“That means you’ll have to sit tight until Dori and I catch up to him.And if he shows up here first, you’ve got to play along.Don’t do anything that’ll land us in jail.Can I count on you?”

“I’ll behave, Wes.Although I doubt he’ll have the nerve to risk giving himself away so soon after running around with his little blond hussy.”

“You never know.Just be prepared for anything and we’ll all get through this together.”

Wes was about to make another point when he noticed Cassie peering out the window.She was watching the uniformed policewoman who was approaching the front entrance.

Her name was Sergeant Myra Newton.She’d been a member of the Emerald Gulf Police Department for the past twenty-five years.Graduating near the top of her class at the police academy, the dignified peace officer was a spit and polished defender of the innocent who’d never been swayed by the lure of dirty money.She was a crack shot and a third-degree blackbelt.There wasn’t a strand of gray in that raven asymmetrical bob.The cops who served under her held the forty-nine-year-old flatfoot in the highest esteem.She’d never been the kind of supervisor who took the easy out.

Cassie was acquainted with the Sergeant, but they could hardly be called friends.Over the years, Newton would drop by for a slice of pie and a little cordial conversation.Yet, none of their encounters had anything to do with the commission of a crime.However, this time, the blue knight’s visit was a bit more official.

“Hi Cassie,” Newton said, as she approached the booth.“Mr. Skylark.”

“Have we met?” Wes asked.

“I’ve seen you on the news,” the Sergeant replied.

Cassie slid over and made room for the shapely officer in the navy-blue uniform to sit down beside her.“I haven’t seen you in a while, Myra,” she said.“You usually don’t roll in this time of day.”

“You’re right,” Newton said, taking her seat.“There’s something I need to discuss with you.”

“I’ll get another table,” Wes said.

“No,” Cassie insisted.“You can talk in front of Wes.He’s proven to be a trusted friend.”

“If that’s the way you want it,” the Sergeant conceded.“Cassie, I know you’ve been seeing Brady Mitchell.Last night, a patrol unit responded to a call from his caretaker concerning the cabin on the Graceville Highway.He said someone had broken in and smashed a couple of items, but nothing appeared to be stolen.In fact, the dwelling was practically empty.The owner hadn’t owned the cabin long and he hadn’t gotten around to completely furnishing it.We just want to get in touch with Mr. Mitchell to make sure everything is alright.Do you know where he is?”

Well, as I’m sure you already know, Brady is a pharmaceutical representative,” Cassie told her.“He’s on the road a good part of the year.He hasn’t called me in about a week.So, I really couldn’t tell you where he is right now.”

“Sergeant, did the caretaker give you any idea who’d want to break into Brady’s cabin?” Wes inquired.

“We don’t know,” Newton said.“The caretaker didn’t recall seeing anyone else hanging around since the place was purchased.”

“Does the caretaker sound credible?” Cassie asked.

“I believe him,” Newton told them.“Cassie, is there anything you can tell me about Mr. Mitchell’s colleagues?Did he ever tell you there was someone he was concerned about?”

“He never talked to me about anyone like that,” Cassie said, shrugging her shoulders.“As I said, he spends a lot of time away from home.The man is just a rolling stone.”

“Well, I guess that’s it,” the Sergeant said, as she stood up.“Please let me know if you hear from him.It was a pleasure to have met you, Mr. Skylark.”

As Wes watched Newton walk away, an inferno of fear began to overtake him.He didn’t know the Sergeant as well as Cassie, but the cagey slickster was quite familiar with her reputation.An iron horse like her would never have been satisfied with the caretaker’s answers.She didn’t get where she was by overlooking the obvious.For the first time since he began this scheme, the master manipulator wondered whether or not he should throw in the towel.Something wasn’t right.

Cassie was also troubled by the way the caretaker omitted certain events that occurred at the cabin.“Why do you suppose Ed neglected to mention that we were at the cabin when he arrived?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Wes said, shaking his head.“We can forget the whole thing and move on if you like.”

“No…I want to see this through.Let me know when you find Brady.I’m going to make him tell me why I wasn’t enough.”

Realizing it was his deception that had driven Cassie so close to the edge, Wes left the diner in a state of panic.He had no way of predicting how the narrative would play itself out.Aborting the mission would’ve been the wisest course of action, but a life of poverty and anonymity was a reality the desperate narcissist couldn’t accept.After all, there was still a chance he could attain his goals and evade the ineluctable disaster that threatened to destroy everything he held dear.He had to take the chance.

CHAPTER 8

By the end of the week, Wes had managed to convince himself that exposing Cassie and Brady’s dirty laundry on television would benefit everyone involved.So, when Dori informed him that she knew where the elusive lover planned to meet Sally Kenan, he rented a brown SUV and headed for the Wuthering Heights Motel.

Located on the outskirts of town, the Wuthering Heights Motel looked more like a storage facility than a place of lodging.Less than a mile from the nearest Interstate, the rectangular cinder block edifice with its metal tile roof appeared harmless to the unsuspecting traveler looking for a place to sleep.However, for the past three years, the twenty-four-room domicile had facilitated the needs of a clandestine criminal element that gathered to discuss the more distasteful aspects of their profession.It was also an ideal haven for human traffickers and drug dealers to conduct business.

Off the top of her head, Dori could think of at least forty places she’d rather have been than the parking lot to the Nelson Benes Insurance Agency.From their position across the street, Wes and Dori had an unobstructed view of the Wuthering Heights Motel.They’d learned that Brady and Sally were going to meet in Room 17B.

Beneath the eerie bleakness of an ominous overcast sky, Dori struggled with the dread and doubts that had plagued her thoughts since Wes began this pernicious odyssey.So far, the pieces had fallen into place without a hitch, but the instinctive investigator couldn’t dismiss the agonizing knot in the pit of her stomach.Moreover, she’d uncovered certain details to which her employer was oblivious.She had to speak up.

“Wes, why not just pack it in and take off?” Dori asked.

“Because we’re here,” Wes responded.“I can understand why you’re hesitant. That business with Ed at the cabin and Sergeant Newton the next morning was like something out of the Twilight Zone, but nothing came of it.So, just stop worrying and let’s get this operation over with.”

“The cops aren’t my only worry.”

“What’s going on, Dori?”

“I spent a lot of time trying to get the straight dope on Sally Kenan.”

“And?”

“As I said before, the dame has no history beyond that Atlanta factory.”

Wes lowered his head and sighed.“Are you sure?” he asked.

“You know how I work,” she told him.“If I can’t find her, someone very connected must be running interference.”

“What could she be up to?”

“It gets worse.The cabin that’s supposed to belong to Brady Mitchell is actually owned by the city.That was all the information I could dig up.”

Wes reached over and opened the glove compartment.“This will be your camera when we confront Brady,” he said, handing her an iPhone.“We need to be as inconspicuous as possible.”

Dori couldn’t understand why this intelligent newscaster was so determined to risk so much for a piece that barely amounted to neighborhood gossip.“Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said?” she asked.“There’s something going on that we can’t see.We’ve got to get out of this boat before it runs aground.”

“I still believe we can make this work, if we do it just right.By the way, where is Cassie?”

“I spoke to her yesterday and told her to get in touch with you.Didn’t she call?”

“No.”

“Another loose end to worry about.”

“Now don’t start that again,” Wes said, as he looked around the interior of the vehicle.

“What are you looking for?”Dori asked.

“I left my laptop at the office.All of my AI data is on it.If it gets into the wrong hands, I’m finished.”

Dori was about to respond when she looked up and spotted something familiar in the motel parking lot.“There it is again,” she muttered.

“What are you talking about?” Wes asked.

“That 2023 Park Avenue across the street.I’ve seen it before.It was parked near a rundown mobile home the night we visited the cabin.”

“So?”

“I think it belongs to Ed the caretaker.”

“Oh, give me a break, Dori.Why would Ed be interested in his boss’s love life?”

“I’m convinced Ed does more for our roving playboy than cut his grass.It’s time to have another conversation with him.”

As he watched his intrepid protégé open the door and exit the SUV, Wes became frantic.“Dori!” he exclaimed, struggling to keep his voice down.“Come back here.”

Fearing what might happen; Wes stepped out of the vehicle and pursued Dori across the street.When they made it to the Park Avenue, the perceptive gumshoe’s suspicions were confirmed.However, the man they encountered was quite different from the mild-mannered groundskeeper they spoke to at the cabin.

CHAPTER 9

His name was Edward Blakely.He was a captain with the Emerald Gulf Police Department.This time, there was no baseball cap concealing his salt-and-pepper classic taper haircut.He made no attempts to quell his strong commanding voice.The overalls and flannel shirt had been replaced by an olive-green three-piece suit.Wes and Dori didn’t have to wonder what was on the mind of this clean-shaven chameleon because he was about to share his thoughts in no uncertain terms.

“What is it going to take to get rid of you two?” the Captain bellowed.“I’ve done everything I could to keep you out of this investigation.But you seem to have a simultaneous death wish.”

“I guess it’s safe to presume you’re not really a handyman,” Wes commented.

“I’m Captain Edward Blakely,” he declared, displaying his credentials.“Why can’t you just stay out of this, Skylark?”

“I’m working on a story,” Wes attempted to explain.“There’s something sinister going on with Brady Mitchell and I want to get to the bottom of it.”

The Captain’s partner opened the door and emerged from the passenger seat.When Wes and Dori realized who it was, everything began to make more sense.Sergeant Myra Newton was also on Brady’s trail.

“I wondered what that performance at the diner was about,” Wes said.“This must be something big.”

“Trust me,” Newton responded.“You have no idea.We’ve been keeping an eye on Mitchell for about three months.We’re on the verge of making an arrest.That’s why we tried to make sure you stayed out of our way.”

“What kind of trouble is Brady in?” Dori asked.

“You don’t need to know that,” Captain Blakely asserted.“But it’s essential that you and your friend, Cassie, keep your distance.”

“Where is Cassie?” Wes asked.

“Her car is still at the Driftwood Diner,” Newton said.“We have an unmarked unit keeping an eye on her.They’ll let us know if she leaves the premises.”

“This sting of yours obviously has something to do with Sally Kenan,” Dori said.“And I’d bet the farm that’s not her real name.”

“You’re a talented investigator, Ms. Belfry,” the Captain told her.“But this time, you’re in way over your head.Now please get out of here and let us get on with our work.”

While the four of them were debating, Brady came around the corner and knocked on the door of Room 17B.

“There he is!” the Sergeant exclaimed.“Mitchell!”

When he turned to see who was calling, someone snatched open the apartment door and took the curious Casanova off his feet with a blast from the barrel of a .380 semiautomatic handgun!

“Let’s go!” Captain Blakely instructed, as he and Newton dashed across the asphalt with their weapons drawn.

The Sergeant reached for her radio and called for backup.“Ten-Lagomorph-thirty,” she said. “Shooting at the Wuthering Heights Motel off Interstate 10.We need Fire/Rescue and all available units.Code 3.”

Taking cover behind the nearest parked automobile, Captain Blakely aimed his .357 Magnum at the open apartment door.“This is the police!” he shouted.“Drop that gun and come out with your hands up.”

As the officers waited with bated breath, the shooter walked out and laid her weapon on the pavement.To their surprise, the woman before them wasn’t Sally Kenan.

“Get down on your knees with your hands up,” the Captain instructed, approaching the cornered suspect.“You’re Cassie Drake.We had you under surveillance.How did you get past my cops?”

“I traded cars with one of my bus boys,” she said.

While the Sergeant moved in to cuff the assailant’s hands behind her back, Blakely checked Brady’s fallen body for signs of life.“He’s gone,” the Captain lamented.

Newton began to inform Cassie of her rights.“You have the right to remain silent,” she said.“If you give up the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law.You have a right to an attorney.If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.Do you understand these rights I have recited to you?”

“Yes,” Cassie replied.

“Is anyone else in the room?” the Captain asked.

“There’s only one,” Cassie told him, as Newton sat her down on the pavement.“But she can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

When Blakely stepped inside and observed the slain body of Sally Kenan in the recliner by the door, he noticed the blood-stained wine bottle on the floor.A bucket of ice on the coffee table had been overturned and saturated what appeared to be some blue-prints.After checking the rest of the room, he returned to the corpse where he discovered Wes and Dori standing at a secure distance from the detainee.They were also astonished by what had happened.

“Cassie,” Wes muttered.“What have you done?How did you even know to come here?”

“It was just like you said, Wes,” the perpetrator explained.“Brady came to the diner yesterday.He had the nerve to act like everything between us was still normal.He even talked about the future he wanted us to share.Can you believe it?”

“How did you respond?” Dori asked.

“I just played along and listened,” Cassie replied.“When he stood up and laid his coat on the seat beside him.I noticed a piece of paper protruding from his pocket.While he was in the bathroom, I sneaked a look.That’s when I learned he was going to meet Sally here this morning.She was here alone when I arrived.I told her I was Brady’s sister.She had so many questions about his childhood.I just repeated to her what he had told me.There were some blue-prints on the coffee table along with a chilled bottle of wine she planned to share with my man.After listening to her go on and on about their storybook romance, I couldn’t take it anymore.I kept thinking about the way my ex-husband ran around on me.Finally, I just snapped.I picked up the wine bottle and struck her three times.I couldn’t believe what I had done.When she fell, I noticed the bulge under her sweater.It was the gun you just took from me.I thought about killing myself, but when Brady knocked on the door with that particular rhythm he always taps out, I decided he had to pay too.”

“Oh Cassie,” Wes lamented.“I never meant for any of this to happen.You told me you were going to keep it together.Now you’ve killed an innocent woman who just wanted someone to love.”

“Is that what you think, Skylark?” Captain Blakely asked him.“I suggest you step over to the doorway and take a good look at this woman.”

Wes complied with the Captain’s instruction and examined the murdered woman’s face.“That’s Heather Crawford!” he exclaimed.

“That’s right,” Blakely confirmed.

“Who’s Heather Crawford?” Dori asked.

“She’s the daughter of a hired gun named Deadpool Duggan,” the Captain continued.“He’s the prime suspect in the deaths of at least fifteen people that we know of.I was sure you’d heard of him, Skylark.”

“I have,” Wes said.“But why is his daughter in Emerald Gulf?”

“According to INTERPOLE, her uncle, Pistol Pete McCloud, sent her to the Panhandle to purchase land,” Blakely explained.“He wants to construct a few nightclubs here in North Florida.You can imagine the kind of business that will be transacted.”

“But constructing a nightclub isn’t a felony,” Dori said.

“You’re right,” the Captain agreed.“And that’s not why we were tailing her.We believe Heather assisted her father in the commission of at least eight murders.”

Sitting motionlessly with her hands bound, Cassie shook her head.“I can’t believe it,” she said.“I just wanted to let that blond tramp know how I felt about my man.Instead, I ended up facing and killing an international assassin.”

“That’s not all you did,” Captain Blakely informed her.

“What do you mean?” Cassie asked, as Sergeant Newton helped her to her feet.

“You also killed one of my best undercover detectives,” Blakely responded.

“What?” Cassie gasped.

“His legal name was Lieutenant Mitchell Clayton,” the bereaved supervisor continued.“He often spoke of you.In fact, this was going to be his last assignment.He planned to tell you everything and ask you to marry him.”

Suddenly, the wail of police sirens filled the air!

Cassie could barely contain herself.She struggled to catch her breath.“This is crazy,” she said.“If what you say is true, why did he say I was a pathetic dame he was going to get rid of when the time was right?”

“When did he say that?” the Captain asked.

Cassie didn’t answer, but the look she gave Wes spoke volumes.For the first time, the enlightened patsy seemed to see her old friend for what he really was.

“Let’s go, Cassie,” Sergeant Newton said, as an army of patrol units descended upon the area.

CHAPTER 10

After observing the first responders escort Cassie to a vehicle and sit her down in the back seat, Blakely turned his attention to the wild cards in this living nightmare.“I don’t have the whole picture yet,” he said to Wes and Dori.“But I have a feeling the two of you had a hand in the way all of this came down.Well, I’ve got news for you.I’m going to become a part of lives in the worst way.I’ll be on you like white on rice.One way or another, you two are going to answer for your sins. And that’s a promise!”

Wes and Dori returned to the SUV across the street without uttering a word.It wasn’t the first time they’d been threatened by the authorities, so Dori couldn’t understand why her mentor was so worried.

“What’s troubling you, Wes?” the PI asked.

Wes leaned against the vehicle and clutched his forehead.“I’ve got to get back to the TV station before Blakely obtains a warrant and searches my office,” he said.“I’m sure that’s where I left my laptop.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you before all the excitement started.I took care of the computer and everything else in the office that could incriminate you.You’re going to be fine.”

Wes ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.“Thanks kid,” he told her.“I really owe you one.”

“You certainly do,” she responded.

Wes could hear the treachery in her voice.“What’s on your mind, Dori?” he asked.

The savvy street-warrior put her arm around him.“That inside information I asked you about could benefit us both,” she declared with a self-satisfied smirk.“We can make a bundle.”

“I told you what kind of trouble I could get into if the bigwigs at the station found out.”

“They’ll never know.I’ll take good care of you.Let’s take our place on easy street.”

“How can you do this to me?We’re closer than siblings.”

“Well, as a wise man once told me, there are times when we have to use people to survive; even if one of those people is someone we call a friend.”

The pupil had surpassed the teacher.With the shyster’s own words, Dori had backed him into an agonizing corner.Wes would either have to play along or admit his role in the death of a respected undercover detective.The crafty student had learned to use the tricks and half-truths he’d taught her to construct the foundation of an empire she intended to rule for a long time to come.The best thing Wes could do was endeavor to get comfortable in the bed he’d spent a lifetime making.

M.C. BECHUM