A Deadly Blessing

by Kathy Bennett

willin' to pay a lot of money, and frankly, I don't know any virgins. I thought it was a deal you should make."

  "Do you think he'd pay double for two virgins?"

  Travis began to scribble on the legal pad in front of him, but Pleasure ignored his writings.

  "Where in the hell do you think you're going find two fresh girls?"

  "Don't worry about that. I got 'em. Do you think he'll pay?"

  I watched Pleasure squint at Travis's large block printing. Please, God, let him give her a good reply.

  "Well, I shouldn't tell you this, but I know one time he slipped one of our girls double her fee so he could back door her." Pleasure gave my husband a look of admiration. "I'm sure he's good for the money," she added, widening her smile at Travis.

  I stood there while my face warmed, watching another woman flirt with my husband. Darius looked directly at the hidden camera and gave me an amused smile.

  "All right. I'm gonna book this guy. But Pleasure, if this ain't legit, you're gonna pay. You know that, right?"

  My Travis reached over and covered Pleasure's hand with his.

  "I've got nothing to fear, Drejohn. Nothing," she repeated, looking deeply into my husband's green eyes.

  TRAVIS – 83

  Powerful. He felt powerful again. This woman, Pleasure Treasure, had given him something back he'd thought was dead. She was counting on him. She didn't know his history and believed he'd keep her safe…and he had every intention of doing just that. He was involved in this case, and he'd make Maddie let him help until this scumbag Drejohn was in custody.

  Maddie burst into the interview room, a deep frown between her brows. "Miss Treasure, you did a great job. Thank you very much. Unfortunately, we still have the matter of the warrant." This was professional Maddie, playing it to the hilt. "I'm afraid we're going to have to book you."

  "Travis, can't you take me back to my office?" Pleasure whined. "I'm scared of Drejohn."

  "No, he can't," his wife snapped. "Officer Div- uh, Grant has other work to do. I'll get a couple of patrol officers to take you over to Valley Jail. You'll see a judge in the morning and because our jails are so over-crowded, you'll probably be released from court. You just stick with the story you told Drejohn, and you should be fine."

  Why was Maddie using his middle name as his surname? Was she ashamed they were married?

  "Maddie," he said, "I'll drive Pleasure back to Chatsworth. I'm going that way anyhow. I'm heading home."

  He knew he'd said the wrong thing by the way Maddie ground her teeth together, causing her jaw to lock.

  His wife pointed to the door. "Can I have a word with you, Officer…Grant?"

  Wordlessly, he moved to the door and stepped into the hallway.

  Maddie followed him into the corridor and closed the door behind her. "Are you nuts?" she hissed. "You can't drive that girl home. You're not supposed to be doing police work at all. You're supposed to be sitting at home trying to get your mental health in order."

  "I guess that only applies when you don't need me to help you with your case."

  Maddie swiped her hand through her tousled tresses. "Look, Travis, I appreciate your help with getting Pleasure to cooperate. But you've made all kinds of promises you have no business making. You told this girl you'd keep her safe, and you have no way to guarantee that. You're too emotionally involved…with the case."

  Then it hit him. Maddie was jealous. His wife was jealous of Pleasure Treasure. A surge of pride race through his body.

  "How about this," he suggested, "how about if you and I take Pleasure back to work. I'll drive, and you can coach her on anything else you might want her to tell Drejohn."

  He watched the frown on his wife's face relax as she thought over his suggestion. "I don't think I should leave the office right now. I suspect this whole thing is going to happen very soon and very quickly. I don't think I should leave Darius. In case Drejohn calls him," she added.

  "Okay, so I'll drive Pleasure and you stay here with your partner."

  "No, you can't transport her by yourself. She could make up all kinds of allegations of misconduct. We can't afford that right now."

  Frustration radiated from his gut. "Well, what the hell do you want, Maddie? We owe the girl a ride, and I'm going right by where she needs to be dropped off. There's no reason to tie up a patrol unit. You can come with me or stay here. You can bring your partner or not. I don't give a shit. But Pleasure has helped your case and I promised I'd look after her. And you know I'm a man of my word. We owe her. So, Miss Hot-Shot Detective, make up your mind."

  "Give me a minute," she said, and headed down the hall back toward her office. He figured she was going to confer with Cutter.

  Going back into the interview room, he found Pleasure gazing at her reflection in the two-way mirror, pushing her ample breasts up and to the center of her chest. "So will you be driving me back, Travis? I'd only really feel safe with you."

  "I'm not sure yet. This is Detective Divine's case and she gets to make all the decisions."

  "Well, you know what I think? I think Detective Divine likes you. I think she likes you a lot, and I don't think she likes that we're friends." Pleasure took her arm and looped it through Travis's, causing his forearm to graze her left breast. "But I want to be your friend, Travis. I want that a lot."

  PRESTON – 84

  Preston wandered through the lower floor of his house without worrying what anyone might think of his odd behavior. He'd sent the staff home. All of them. He'd dispatched his security detail to the outside perimeter of the property. He didn't want anyone around, even Bain—especially Bain. He needed to be alone.

  Earlier in the day, Bain had come to him and advised that he'd done something that, originally, seemed like a good course of action, but in retrospect, could come back and reflect negatively on the governor's office.

  "As soon as I found out that Heather McCall was missing, I went over to her apartment."

  Preston sat up straighter and leaned forward. What the hell?

  His aide continued. "You see, it's been my experience that when a young lady is in a relationship with someone who is…famous, she will often keep mementos; cards, pictures, e-mails and the like."

  "Go on," Preston had urged, keeping his temper in check.

  "So," Bain continued, "I went to her place and got the manager to let me in. The guy is country bumpkin, so it wasn't hard to convince him that I was a cop and needed to get in."

  "Are you out of your mind?" Preston was surprised that Bain had actually looked a little sheepish.

  "I, uh, kind of tore up her place looking for anything that might link you and Miss McCall."

  "And did you find anything?"

  Bain had sighed. "No, nothing." Then he'd added, "I was careful, but you never know these days what kind of evidence you've left behind. I'm sorry, governor."

  "You ought to be, Bain. Now I'm going to have to fix this error in your judgment. I'll call Chief Fryer in the morning and explain the situation to him and convince him his department should handle this situation with the utmost of discretion." Preston had fixed at steely glare on Bain. "Don't do anything like this ever again without consulting me first. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Yes, sir!"

  "Okay, I want to you round up all the staff, and I mean everyone and send them home. I want to be alone."

  Preston had seen the worried look on Bain's face, but he was much too smart to question the governor on anything.

  Now, a couple of hours later, Preston found himself pacing a circuit through the house he'd bought when he and Monica first married. He relived every milestone: his first major film and the subsequent Academy Award. The fast lane to stardom, and the pitfalls of women, booze, and drugs. Monica had stayed with him through all of that craziness. Then, the birth of his daughter, Tiffany, and the realization he had a responsibility to his wife and child. When he'd settled down, his acting career took a nosedive. He was no longer a big name in Hollywood. You wer
e only as good as your last big film, or your last big-name fuck. He hadn't done either in years. He'd decided to find another stage – the political stage.

  He remembered Monica's excitement when he'd told her he was leaving the acting arena, then her brave face when he told her he was turning to politics. Always the loyal and faithful wife, she'd pledged to support him in every way she could. And she had. Monica was a natural strategist, who found Bain, and between the two of them, they'd gotten Preston elected governor of California…in spite of her illness. Bain knew just how to cover Monica's many absences and she forced herself to appear when absolutely necessary.

  Sitting on the bed, Preston ran his hand over the mattress where he'd felt like he had it all. Two months after the election she was dead. He hadn't thought he'd be able to recover from the loss of his wife and he almost hadn't. He'd become a workaholic working sixteen, eighteen, and often twenty hours a day.

  He'd met Pilar and they began their affair, but while she was an outstanding bed partner, he'd never really connected with her mind. Surprisingly, the media started calling them the JFK and Jackie of their time. He'd told himself the attention was for the betterment of the state. But the truth was he didn't feel he had much to give to anyone. Then Tiffany was diagnosed with Aplastic Anemia. Pilar seemed to resent his devotion to his daughter.

  He couldn't take anymore. He'd needed an outlet, and Bain had told him of a woman he knew, a 'madam' who specialized in providing discreet relief for