Morning crept through the unfamiliar curtains. Looking next to me the light covered her silk shoulders, bare and delicate. An angel who graced me with a night of relief.
My eyes gazed at those red lips, and at that moment, I wanted to taste them again. To distract myself from the warnings in my head, to lose myself in her one last time.
I gently caressed her face with the back of my fingers, tracing the softness of her skin. Her warmth seeped into me, as I moved her hair gently behind her ear. Even though my body is aching from our decisions last night, I want nothing more than to feel our connection one last time.
Her breath hitched. She stirred, turning away from me. Her hand found my arm. Her touch is light and deliberate. I pressed my body against hers, the scent of lavender filling the void between us. The warmth of her body pulled me back into the memory of last night.
“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep.
“Good morning,” I replied, as I kissed her shoulder.
“Ya know, you weren’t kidding last night,” she turned to me and gazed into my eyes, “you really are quite the lover.”
That smile when she said that. I wanted more.
“You are quite the woman Marie. Thank you.”
“Thank you for what?”
“For last night. For connecting.”
She got close and I got to taste those red lips one last time. To taste her tongue, soft and endearing. I held her tight as to not let go, to keep her close to me so this moment wouldn’t end. Feeling her curves, the smoothness of her body. One last time.
“It’s time,” she said softly.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, and forced a weak smile “Are you sure?”
A bitter laugh came out, “Do you think I want to?”
Those jade eyes pierced through me. Her smile wrought with dismay.
“Ya know, we could just get out of here. Go somewhere with just the two of us.”
I stroked her golden hair and earnestly looked into her jade eyes.
“Oh?” She chuckled, “Where would we go? What would we do?”
I couldn’t resist. One last taste, one last feel of her plush lips against mine.
“We could drive up to Maine,” I told her.
She cracked a smile, “Well then what would we do in Maine?”
“Well… We could go crabbing.”
Her smile widened as she nodded, “Crabbing huh?”
“Yeah, crabbing. I could cook you a nice lobster dinner. We’d share a bottle of wine, listen to the finest records and dance under the moonlight. Then we could make love all night, and wake up to each other every day. And we’d just do something like that everyday.”
“Mm, I especially like the making love part,” she shifted around in excitement.
That scent of lavender was intoxicating. I smiled, “Yes, as long as it’s with you.”
Marie looked down, she started to tense up.
“If only my world worked that way Tommy,” her voice cracked.
This is it, the moment she would slip from my grasps. She turned to the side of the bed and sat up, her exposed back with nary a mark. Perfection.
“It can be if you want it to be.”
“Oh I do,” Marie turned halfway to me, “but I’ve made my choices. I’m stuck.”
I wanted to rescue her, to rescue me. Now I’m in a mess that affects both of us, I can save both of us.
“You always have a choice Marie. Choose us,” I said.
Silence gripped the room. Marie stood up wrapped in her blankets, her ivory skin glowing against those unfamiliar curtains. She moved to the dresser and started getting dressed.
An air of tension filled the room. She put her undergarments on and then her red dress. It perfectly accentuated her eyes. Emphasized her slender physique. I was falling for her all over again.
I sat there, feeling defeated.
As she put on her emerald earrings, she looked at me with a glint of sadness in her eyes.
“In another life, I would.”
I tried to smile, knowing it was disingenuous. Marie did the same, but closed the distance between us. Climbing on top of me, she came in for one last kiss.
Gently holding her chin, I gave into my indulgence and seared the memory of her kiss. Feeling her cheek, I moved her hair to take one last look at her porcelain face.
“You’ll be fine Tommy,” her voice filled with hollowness, “In time, you’ll forget me.”
“Never,” I told her with a soft conviction. I could never forget about her.
She climbed off me and walked away. That red dress was a scar in the shadow slicing through the unlit room. I watched the door close behind her with nothing but the taste of her goodbye.
“Fuck.”
I turned to the nightstand and poured a glass of whiskey. I had to report back to her husband.
Is she a cheater? Yes. Do I have proof of other infidelities? No.
The whiskey will help forget her. It burns going down, dulling her taste on my tongue.
What kind of private investigator actively sabotages his mark? Hired to uncover her secrets. Now I’ve become one of them.
I need a cold shower. I walked to the unfamiliar bathroom and twisted the faucet. The frigid stream shocked her warmth out of my system. Her taste was gone. Now her warmth.
What the hell am I going to tell the Senator? Certainly not about last night. About falling for her — falling for his wife.
Stupid. This could have been my way out of here. Paid off my debts to the Don. Bought me a ticket out of this concrete jungle and settled down somewhere quiet.
I turned the faucet off and toweled off. I can’t stop thinking about her jade eyes. Her red dress. And that smile — it shattered me.
More whiskey. I poured another shot. Big breath in and down it went. It bites harder this time.
As I dressed, the smell of gin and whiskey clung to my clothes. How easily she removed my armor last night. It feels heavier putting it on knowing what’s ahead.
At the nightstand, I opened the drawer and reached for my gat. Cold, lifeless steel met my fingertips, snuffing out the memory of her silk skin. I tucked it behind my belt, and poured one last shot of whiskey. Downed the bullet.
It was time.
I grabbed my coat and my hat, stepped out of the hotel and hailed for a taxi. My mind is racing for excuses, contingency plans, thinking of every angle when facing the Senator.
The cabbie tried to make some small talk with me. I ignored him, staring out the window as the city blurred past.
We pulled up to the Senator’s residence. He lives in the penthouse. I’d only been up there once before — a palace dripping in gold and power. Everyone knows that he is under the thumb of the Don.
This job could’ve been my ticket out.
Fuck.
I stepped out of the cab and onto the sidewalk. Lighting my cigarette was difficult, the winter wind catching the flame. I took a long drag, my first of the day. It’s not calming my nerves though. Time passed until the cigarette burned my fingers.
I tossed it under my shoe and grounded it out.
One last breath. Hands in my coat pockets, I pushed open the building’s heavy golden doors. A man dressed in a dark suit and fedora was walking at me. We exchanged nods as I held the door open for him. His cologne lingered as he passed — sharp and expensive.
Inside, a doorman greeted me in the lobby. His suit looked crisp, the smile he wore was practiced.
“Good morning, sir. How may I be of service?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said, “I’m here to see the Senator.”
“And may I ask who is calling?”
“Tell him it’s uh, Tom.”
He nodded once, picked up a golden telephone and muttered a few words.
This place was dripping in excess. White marble floors, crystal chandeliers, gold trim on every surface. A bit grand for my tastes, but even a schleck like me could get used to this.
The doorman put the phone down, “He will see you now.”
I nodded, “Great… Thanks.”
He escorted me into the elevator and pulled the level for the penthouse. The silence between us was thick. It left me alone in my thoughts.
What the hell am I going to say to him? Lie, obviously. Outside of me, she has been loyal to him.
I’ll take the money and pay my debts to the Don. Then disappear.
The elevator doors opened to a granite entryway. I hear the Senator’s voice booming before I even stepped out.
“Tommy!”
He waddled towards me. Dressed in a fine navy suit so tight his gold cufflinks looked ready to pop. His double chin jiggled as he grinned.
“Hey, Mr. Senator,” I said, extending my hand.
“Please Tommy, call me Rossi,” he pulled me in for an awkward hug. His cologne was overpowering, musky and sweet.
“Uh, you got it Senator Rossi.”
The Senator let go, clapped me on the back with more force than I was expecting. “So, Tommy, I assume that you’ve got news for me?”
“Uh, yes sir. I do.”
“Then let’s sit and chat,” he led me into a parlor straight out of what you see in talkies. Two red leather chairs flanked a small table with cigars and ashtrays. The walls were lined with books I doubted he had even opened.
“Please, have a seat,” he gestured to one of the chairs.
I sat down. My insides were twisting. I need to stay composed.
“So,” the Senator began, lowering himself into the chair across from me, “tell me what you’ve found.”
I pulled a cigarette from my coat pocket and held it up. The Senator nodded, gesturing to the lighter on the table. I lit it and took a long drag. Compose yourself Tommy.
“To be honest sir, I’ve been following your wife for weeks now,” I started, being careful with my words.
“And?”
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I can’t tell if he is excited or anxious. The way he leaned forward made my pulse quicken. My gut is telling me something is off.
“I got nothin,” I flicked ash into the tray.
“Nothing?” The Senator’s tone was calm, but I saw his brow twitch.
“Yeah. Nothin. I’ve seen her go out plenty. Always dressed to the nines, wears the best jewelry. And, if I may sir,” I took a drag out of my smoke, “She’s clearly the best looking broad in any room she walks into.”
The Senator’s eyebrows furrowed, “So you’re telling me that she just… gets dolled up and goes out?”
“It would appear that way sir,” I ash my cigarette and lean back, “She doesn’t talk to anyone outside the bartender. Men approach her, sure, but she shoos ’em off within minutes. Don’t even take their free drinks.”
“And the nights she doesn’t come home?”
“She’s got a childhood friend, married to Congressman Santoro just last year. They live four blocks from here. That’s where she stays”
The Senator leaned back, stroking his double chin, “Santoro’s wife you say?”
“Uh, yes sir. That’s the one.”
The room went silent. I took another drag from my cigarette. The Senator was motionless now.
“I just don’t understand,” he exploded, standing and pacing the room. “Why would she get all dressed up, then sit at a bar alone? And spend the night at Santoro’s wife’s place? Does that make sense to you, Tommy?”
I hesitated. It’s not my place to give advice. I just find dirt.
“It’s… not my place to try and make sense of this, sir.”
He turned to face me, his expression sharp. “And you’re sure you haven’t missed anything? You’re sure that she’s not sneaking around with anyone else?”
I took a drag, “Yes, sir. At least, that’s how it’s been for the past four weeks sir.”
The Senators jaw clenched.
“Sir,” I leaned forward, “If I may… maybe you should talk to her about it. This might be something you two could work out, without hiring a guy like me,” I forced a chuckle, “Cheaper that way too.”
His lips tightened, but he nodded slowly.
“True enough Tommy,” he took a big breath and sat back down in his chair, “true enough.”
The tension in the room didn’t ease, but the Senator sat back into his chair. He exhaled heavily.
“Is there anything else I should know?”
“No, sir” I put my cigarette out in the ashtray.
He nodded.
“Well, if that will be all, sir, I’ll be gettin’ out of here,” I stood up.
The Senator stood and extended his hand. His grip was firm. He had a smile that was faint, but wasn’t forced.
“Thanks Tommy. I was expecting the worst, though I’m not sure if I feel any better knowing this.”
“I’m just as confused as you are, Senator”, I forced a smile.
His eyes narrowed, but the Senator didn’t say anything.
“As for payment…”
“Don’t worry about that,” the Senator clapped his hand on my shoulder, “I’ll have it wired to you by the end of the week.”
“Thank you sir.”
He walked me to the elevator, the small talk meaningless noise. I played along, not really noticing what he was talking about as I stepped into the elevator.
“Remember,” the Senator held his hand up to the doorman, “Politics is all about perception, Tommy. The less people see, the better.”
I forced a smile, “I’ll remember that Senator Rossi. Thanks.”
I nod my head as the doorman closes the elevator doors. My thoughts went immediately elsewhere — on her.
The doorman hailed me a cab. The whiskey was starting to fade. A dull ache started flowing through my veins. My mind was replaying the exchange. Deciphering all that occurred, the Senator’s words, his gestures and mannerisms.
I think I dodged a bullet.
The cabbie pulled up to the curb, I reached for my wallet but the cabbie just shook his head. “Already taken care of,” he said.
Looks like the Senator paid for my ride home too.
I look around the neighborhood and see that it’s lively as ever. Kids running up and down the sidewalk, people talking, cars zipping by. A normal day outside, even though my feelings inside were anything but.
Inside, the hallway smelled of mildew. The wood-paneled walls were dark and damp. A poor man’s castle, compared to the Senator’s golden laced fortress.
I walk to the last door, a cheap brass plate has my name on it:
Thomas P. Segura
Detective
P.I.
I reach into my pants pocket and find the key, then put it into the lock. When I turn it though, it has already been unlocked.
Someone is in there.
My heart started to pound. I open the door slowly. My place was wrecked.
Papers scattered, desk drawers pulled out. The stale smell of cigarette smoke lingered in the air. Two silhouettes sat casually in front of my desk like they owned the place.
“What the f…”
Something hard cracked against the back of my head.
Darkness.
A jolt of pain echoed across my head. There was a blinding light searing through my closed eyelids. I open my eyes but am blinded by a great light in front of me.
I try to move but my hands and feet were tied. The wooden chair creaked under my weight, the ropes digging into my wrists.
The air reeked of fish and salt water. The winter air seeped into my wet clothes, my teeth start to chatter uncontrollably. A chill runs through my body.
“Glad to see that you’re still with us, Tommy boy,” a familiar voice, smooth and mocking.
I try to see through the bright light. A shadow moved in front of me. It looks like he is sitting in a chair.
“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy…”
Fuck. Don Marchetti.
The Don pulled a cigar from his coat pocket. A small shadow stepped forward and lit the cigar. That flame briefly illuminated the smirk on the Don’s face.
“What a shame, Tommy boy.”
I swallowed hard, trying to find my voice, “I’ll have your money Don, I just need until the end of this week…”
His laugh echoed off the warehouse walls. The hired goons joined in. I was surrounded and tied up.
“Tommy boy, this isn’t about the money,” the Don took a drag out of his cigar, his lit up face still grinning, “This is about business.”
“What do you mean?” I force the question out.
The Don leaned towards me, the smoke billows around my face, “See, you’ve gone and fucked with my business, Tommy. And that is something that I cannot ignore.”
“What… what business?”
“What business he asks,” the chuckle dies down. The Don leans back, takes a few puffs from his cigar, “Rossi came to me first. Wanted me to look into his wifes… extracurricular activities. Make sure they weren’t going to tarnish his precious public image.”
My stomach dropped, “What does this have to do with me Don?”
“See,” he took a large drag out of his cigar, “Rossi is my business. He plays nice for the public, votes how I tell him, keeps his nose clean…” a chuckle came out, “At least, as far as the public knows.”
The Don leaned towards me again and pointed his cigar at me, “But you? You’ve gone and stirred the pot. You were poking around where you shouldn’t have poked.”
“I haven’t done anything…”
“Shut it.” He cut me off, and waved his hand. “Do you really think you were the only person investigating this?”
A shadowy figure handed him a folder.
Fuck.
“Hmm, let’s see here,” the Don opened the folder and started flipping through the pages, “‘Lobster dinners, moonlight dancing, listening to records, making love all night’. This is sweet, really. Almost makes me wanna tear up.”
The goons roared with snickers. My chest tightened.
“And my goodness, look at the rack on that broad,” the Don kept flipping through the papers, “must have been nice to finally taste what you’ve been lookin’ at for weeks. Am I right, Tommy?”
The Don closed the folder and held it up, a shadow taking it away.
“See, the problem isn’t that you slept with the broad,” the Don’s tone darkened, “The problem is what this looks like. What it means. If people thought that Rossi couldn’t control his own wife, that makes him look weak. That makes my business look weak.”
He took a couple of puffs from his cigar, “Weakness is contagious. And I can’t have that.”
The Don stood up and moved aside, the bright light turned off. Behind where he was sitting was a slumped figure, dressed in red.
I lost my breath. Golden hair splayed across her shoulders, marred in streaks of blood. I could see the faint glint of her emerald earrings.
“No,” I whispered.
The Don puffed his cigar, exhaling smoke as he spoke, “Don’t worry, Tommy boy. You’ll get your moonlight dance with her. Just not the way you imagined.”
I screamed, raw and guttural. I struggled to get out of the ropes. The chair creaked as I thrashed about, but didn’t give.
“I’m sorry, Tommy boy,” the Don sounded genuine, “You’re a good guy. Just poked the wrong broad at the wrong time.”
Her silk skin. The smell of lavender. The taste of her lips. The texture of her tongue. I want it all again.
I felt the cold press of steel on the back of my head.
I want to see her face again. I need to see those jade eyes.
The sound of the hammer clicked back, “I’m sorry Tom.”
One. Last. Time.
