Marked for Murder

by Donna Raider

  Leah leaned down so she was looking into the same dark space Mika had created between her body and the bar. Joe wasn’t certain what happened, but the dark space suddenly lit up as if someone had put a match to a candle. The light flickered brightly then went out.

  Leah jumped, threw her head back and laughed that deep, throaty laugh that filled men with desire. Her wife sat up grinning, obviously pleased with herself. “May I buy you dinner?”

  “Oh, no.” Leah was still laughing. “I want much more than that from you.” She slid from the barstool and sashayed toward the door.

  Mika quickly tossed several bills on the bar and hurried after her. She was positive someone wanted to play horsey with her tonight.

  A man Joe had never seen before took the seat vacated by the brunette woman. The faint scent of her perfume lingered. The man looked under the bar to see what had caused the flash of light but could see nothing. Maybe she used a cigarette lighter, he thought.

  “What can I get you, buddy?” Joe smiled at the handsome young man.

  “Whatever they were drinking.” The man smiled back.

  “It’s very expensive,” Joe informed him. “Hundred a glass.”

  “Seriously?” The man scowled. “Make that Scotch on the rocks.”

  “Haven’t seen you in here before,” Joe said as he poured the drink. “Appreciate your business.”

  The man nodded and sipped his drink. “That was certainly a handsome couple that just left.”

  Joe nodded, studying the man. He was tall, blond, fair complexion with dark green eyes. A short, perfectly groomed beard added to his attractiveness. He wore a dark leather dress jacket and black jeans. A scholar, Joe thought.

  “Another?” Joe gestured toward the glass the man had just emptied.

  “No, that’s my limit.” Watcher smiled. “What do I owe you?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Show me that again.” Leah giggled as they appeared in their room. She threw her head back and roared with laughter as her wife sent a steady stream of flames from her nostrils.

  “So, may I be your warhorse?” Mika teased as she pulled Leah into her arms.

  “You may be my everything, darling.” Leah kissed her as if she could devour her.

  ##

  Later, she lay in Mika’s arms, content to feel her warmth. Leah propped herself up on one elbow and kissed her wife softly, lovingly. “Have you heard any more about your trip to the Vatican?” She nibbled Mika’s ear.

  “I have to be there at eight Monday morning.” Mika moved her hand gently down her side. Mika loved the feel of her; the way her ribs gave way to a slender waist, then rose to her firm hips and taut thighs. Leah was perfection personified.

  “What time do you have to leave Sunday night?” She nibbled at Mika’s bottom lip.

  “I am just going to appear there in time to go into the meeting,” Mika said softly. “I will leave here at two thirty, Monday morning. As soon as the meeting is over, I will find my room so I will have a basis for transport. At six p.m., Rome time, I will transport to your dressing room at the studio.”

  “I can live with that.” Leah kissed her, asking to take the kiss deeper. Mika gladly encouraged her. Mika’s tongue explored her soft, full lips then tagged her tongue for a response. She got so much more than she requested. God, I love her, Leah thought.

  ##

  “Wow! Just, wow!” Mika fought to catch her breath. They lay for a long time before either spoke.

  “Carlie came to see me today.” Mika moved to sit up against the headboard of their bed. “She thinks Williams and Branch are innocent of murder.”

  Leah sat up too. She leaned against Mika’s legs so she could look into her peaceful blue eyes.

  “She also apologized to me for trying to kiss you.” Mika held her gaze.

  “She has a wonderful mate in Jennifer.” Leah scowled. “She needs to appreciate what she has instead of pining over something she can never have.”

  “That’s basically what I told her.” Mika smiled, leaning forward to capture her full, soft lips.

  ##

  The more Mika discussed her firm belief that celibacy was against the very nature of humans and against God’s wishes, the more Father Jerry Halcyon began to agree with her. For every contrived Bible verse the church produced in support of celibacy, Mika produced twenty clear verses supporting God’s grand plan of men and women having spouses. He thought that perhaps he should remove himself as chair of the celibacy proponents. Their meetings hadn’t been classified as a synod, so he felt compelled to retain the chair until a new priest could be named to head up the committee.

  Jerry had been raised in the Catholic Church. His mother had been ecstatic when he announced his desire to be a priest. His father had discussed his decision with him in-depth. His father tried to convince him that someday he would find a woman he couldn’t live without. Jerry seriously doubted that.

  After a particularly painful college love affair, Father Jerry had decided celibacy was for him. A religious man, he chose celibacy over taking the chance of being so badly hurt again. He began working toward the priesthood. He graduated college with a BA in history and theology, then at twenty-six, graduated from the seminary at the top of his class. For the past four years, he had devoted himself to shoring up the church’s reasons for celibacy.

  Only Mika Cross had shaken his belief in celibacy. Mika seemed to be so much more than a priest. She seemed to be on a first-name basis with God, something Father Jerry desperately wanted to achieve. Most important of all, Mika seemed to be indescribably happy. She was not torn between her wife and her God. She loved them both.

  ##

  Watcher had been following Priest Mika Cross closely for over a month. The woman was a paragon of virtue. She worked hard in the church then went home to her wife every night. Some nights they met at a local lounge and seemed to enjoy a little role-play before going home together. Of course, her wife was a woman anyone would want to go home to. Watcher thought Leah Cross might possibly be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

  Cross accompanied her family to church every Sunday. She and her wife spent a lot of time with their children. They taught them to ice skate, canoe, and play soccer. They took the children to the theatre and to concerts that were age appropriate. They were model parents.

  Watcher could find no fault with Mika Cross or her wife.

  Father Darius and Father Halcyon were also on his list, but they could wait. Right now, he needed to attend to Bishop Cantrell’s problem.

  Watcher knew he had to plan the perfect accident. He began to watch every move Janet Cantrell made. He wondered if he might have a little fun with her before she died. After watching her for a week, he decided he could.

  She was waiting for her husband in front of a small, secluded restaurant. A thief ran by, grabbing her purse. Before she could even scream, Watcher slammed his fist into the thief’s face and caught Janet’s purse as the man hit the pavement. Nose bleeding profusely, the thief scrambled to his feet and ran away.

  “My lady.” Watcher bowed and presented her the purse.

  “Thank you so much,” Janet gasped. “You have no idea how important that purse is to me.”

  “I’m glad I could be of service.” Watcher affected his best English accent. “A lady as lovely as yourself should not be on the streets of New York alone. May I see you safely to your destination?”

  “Actually, this is my destination.” She smiled as her cell phone rang. Motioning for Watcher to wait, she took the call. “No, dear, it is just fine. I truly understand. These things happen. Yes. You too.”

  “It seems I have been stood up,” she said with a smile. “May I buy your lunch? I would like to do something to thank you.”

  “I’d like that very much.” Watcher bowed and offered her his arm. Inside the restaurant, he selected a private table, away from others.

  “Where are my manners?” He smiled shyly at her. “Allow me to introduce myself.
Professor Byron Welch, at your service.” Again, he bowed. Women love it when men bow to them, he thought.

  She giggled like a schoolgirl as she held her hand out to him. “Janet Cantrell.” He kissed the back of her hand.

  During lunch, he charmed her with anecdotes about his imaginary students. Told her he had published several books under a pseudo name—which was true—but pretended humility when she asked the name under which he published.

  “I’m afraid I would be embarrassed if you knew I wrote the books,” he said, ducking his head. “While they have made me extremely wealthy, they are very torrid and nothing of which I’m proud. They are…ah…very commercial.”

  She laughed and told him now he had really piqued her interest. They talked until the lunch crowd cleared out and the early-evening diners began to arrive.

  “I’m afraid I have monopolized your afternoon.” Watcher insisted on paying the check then led her outside.

  “Again, thank you so much for saving my purse.” She smiled.

  “I hope to see you again.” He glanced at her sheepishly. “I often stroll around the Reservoir in Central Park. It is very refreshing.”

  He watched her face as she digested the information he had given her. He knew she often jogged on the Reservoir path. He nodded and walked away.

  ##

  The next day, Watcher arrived at the Reservoir a little after nine. Janet wasn’t an early riser. He had donned running attire that showed off his physique. He knew he had a spectacular body. Many women had told him so. He was sitting on a bench, enjoying the lake, when she ran up to him.

  “Byron.” She leaned over to catch her breath then sat down beside him. “Fancy meeting you here.” She grinned mischievously. He noticed she had removed her wedding band.

  “This must be my lucky day.” He smiled. “Want a running partner?”

  She nodded and they sprinted around the Reservoir. After their run, he took her to a small café. She shared funny stories with him, while he stole long glances at her, obviously finding her company enjoyable. Her cell phone rang. She took it from her pocket and silenced it. She laid it on the table.

  “Please don’t think me forward,” he said, smiling, “but I have two tickets to see Wicked tonight and I thought you might possibly like to… It’s okay if you say no. I know it’s presumptive of me to even ask, but…” He pretended to be at a loss for words, too shy to ask her out.

  “I would love to go to Wicked with you.” She placed her hand on top of his. She knew Lawrence would be tied up with the archbishop tonight, so she would be free.

  “I’ll pick you up at—”

  She interrupted him. “Why don’t I just meet you at the theatre?” She smiled. She still had her soft, warm hand on his.

  ##

  Watcher was waiting in front of the theatre when her taxi stopped at the curb. He quickly paid the driver and escorted her inside. She was beautiful.

  In the darkness of the theatre, Janet Cantrell stole glances at Byron Welch. He was tall, very handsome and distinguished looking. His blond, boyish good looks were set off by his deep green eyes and the cleft in his chin. There was something both exciting and dangerous about him. He looked as if he truly could write steamy sex novels. She wanted to read one of them.

  After the theatre, they walked to a nice, quiet restaurant and dined together. Conversation with him was easy. He was interesting and funny. He teased her about picking up a stranger.

  “You don’t seem like a stranger.” She laughed. “I feel as if I’ve known you forever.”

  “Here, let me put your mind at ease.” He reached for her cell phone and took a selfie. “There,” he said as he showed her his photo, “you can text that to your friends so they will know who to look for if you disappear.”

  “Now let me take your picture so my friends can find me if I disappear.” They both laughed at his antics. She had no idea he had paired her phone to his. While she was in the ladies’ room, he removed his picture from her phone.

  They talked and planned on meeting the next day. “I would love to read one of your books,” she pleaded. “Can’t you tell me what you have written?”

  “If it will put your mind at ease,” he said, laughing, “I can tell you what I did not write. I did not write Fifty Shades of Grey.”

  An erotic shiver ran through her as she recalled scenes from the book she had just finished reading. “That is good to know.” She looked at him through hooded eyes.

  “At least let me take you home,” he pleaded. “I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

  “Just put me in a cab and I’ll get out at my residence.” She grinned. “I don’t know you well enough to take you home.”

  “I understand.” He smiled.

  He pulled her into the shadows of an awning and slowly, hesitantly kissed her. “Maybe we should get to know each other better,” he whispered against her lips.

  She pulled him to her, almost desperate to feel his body against hers. His arms were strong around her. His body was hard against hers. He deepened their kiss, asking more of her. He pulled away from her. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “I had no right to do that. You are just so beautiful.”

  He stepped from the shadows and hailed a cab for her.

  ##

  “Hey, why so glum?” Carlie asked as she placed a cup of coffee on the dressing table in front of Leah. “You’re usually all sunshine and rainbows.”

  “Nothing,” the actress answered quietly.

  “Remember me, the intuitive detective?” Carlie laughed. “Come on, what gives?”

  “Mika. She left the house before I awoke this morning.” Leah sipped her coffee.

  “You think she’s cheating on you?” Carlie asked hopefully.

  “Oh, heavens, no!” The TV star chuckled. “I know exactly where she is. She is working on her church meeting.”

  “So, what’s the problem?” The detective frowned.

  “I have always hated waking up without her.” Leah shrugged. “It’s depressing. Starts my entire day off badly.”

  “Well, as long as she comes home to you every night,” Carlie encouraged. “That’s what really matters.”

  “I never fall asleep without her,” Leah admitted. She jumped as a text dinged her phone. “What a delightful surprise. She’s going to visit me on the set today. Be a dear and bring her here.” She smiled at the detective.

  As soon as Carlie left the room, Leah texted her wife to come. In less than a heartbeat, Mika was pulling Leah into her arms. “I have missed you so much,” she whispered into her soft, dark hair.

  “I know.” Leah kissed her thankfully.

  “No sign of her… Oh, I see you found her.” Carlie smirked.

  “Yes.” Leah grinned. “She appeared right after you left.”

  “Five minutes, Miss Redman,” the prompter called.

  Haley rushed in for last-minute touch-ups to Leah’s makeup and then Leah was off to the set.

  Dressed in jeans and a Harvard sweatshirt, Mika tried to make herself invisible. She didn’t want to call attention to herself. She was supposed to be sleeping in Rome. She found a chair among the props off to the side of the set. It was shoved between a file cabinet and a fake wall. She slipped into it and prepared to watch her lovely wife work.

  Marked for Murder was going into its second season. It continued to carry the highest ratings in all age and gender categories. Straight women and gay men liked it because they fantasized about Tray Slater. Straight men and gay women loved it because they fantasized about Leah Redman. Mika had been surprised to learn that there was an entire segment of the Internet filled with websites and stories pairing her wife and the character of the madam played by Lana Lawson. For the most part, the stories were gay love fantasies. Occasionally an amateur would pen a story that was in bad taste and completely offensive to her wife. At first, the amateur writers upset Leah, but Mika had convinced her to stop perusing their writings.

  Secretl
y, Leah was flattered that almost half a million would-be writers penned stories about her on various fan fiction sites. Occasionally a very good story emerged.

  Obviously, the show’s writers played heavily to both the straight and gay segments of their audience. There were scenes between Lana and Leah that involved discreetly touching and a friendly hug. There was a lot of overt flirting between the two characters. There was still tremendous pressure on Leah to do a love scene with Slater, but she steadfastly refused. Mika was thankful that she hadn’t budged on the matter.

  Although she had watched every episode Leah had made, Mika had never watched her work. Leah was extraordinary. Her ability to express her emotions in her beautiful face was astounding. She could move from happy, to distraught, to furious in a matter of seconds. The chemistry between her and Slater was incredible. “I simply pretend he is you,” Leah told her wife later.

  By the end of the week, Mika felt like she personally knew all the cast members. Although she stayed out of the way, everyone was curious about their star’s wife.

  Mika and Leah had fallen into an enjoyable routine. Mika would arrive at one in the afternoon. Just as they had done since their wedding day, Leah took her lunch break and they enjoyed each other’s company in the privacy of her dressing room.

  Leah finished filming at five and they went home to have dinner and family time with their children. After tucking the children into bed, they talked and made love until Mika had to leave for her meeting in Rome.

  After two weeks, Mika was becoming frustrated that she had not been granted an audience with the Pope. She knew that Father Darius needed her help. At Father Jerry’s request, the bishop had appointed a new chairman for the advocates of celibacy. He was an older priest with a sharp tongue. Father Darius wasn’t used to being under attack. He wanted Mika to return and assume her role as chair of the proponents of marriage for priests.

  In the middle of the third week, Mika sat on the sofa in Leah’s dressing room. Leah was in her lap. She was fretting over a magazine article that accused her of disliking Trey Slater.