IF I FAIL

by Marian Lanouette

  Jake reached into the back seat. Pulled his briefcase up front, he skimmed through it until he found what he was looking for—the picture of the ring. He handed it to Tara. She let out a low whistle.

  “My God, the emerald’s huge. It’s beautiful.”

  “Yes, it is. It’s insured. Still, you don’t want to lose a family heirloom. Especially one with such a high monetary value.”

  “I wouldn’t want to lose it, no matter what the circumstances.”

  They called it a night at ten-thirty. Chloe never left the house. The light in her room went out at ten-fifteen. They circled the block a couple of times, to make sure she wasn’t on her way out. Jake dropped Officer Jones at the station at ten forty-five.

  “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

  “Good night, Tara. It’s been nice working with you.”

  “Same here, sir,” she said, getting out of the car.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  While dressing for dinner Saturday night, Jake looked back over his hectic day. The interviews with both Meryl Drake and Mark Cavilla gave him few answers and more questions. He would re-listen to the interviews tomorrow, or maybe Monday.

  According to the detectives who followed Chloe all day, she only went to the grocery store with her mother, remaining at home the rest of the time.

  The detectives on shift now also reported in. Still home at seven, Jake figured she might go out around nine or ten o’clock, the normal time for a Saturday night. He told the detectives to call his cell phone and leave their updates in a message, because he wanted no interruptions this evening. By ten tonight, he hoped to be fully engaged.

  Jake headed out to Mia’s house at seven-thirty. Hitting no traffic, he arrived at eight. It amazed him a whole week had gone by. Heavy caseload, mounds of paperwork, and new leads all led to a very busy seven days. Every spare minute he could find he spent with Mia for a quick lunch, dinner, or conversation. Jake felt so comfortable with her. They talked about everything, never hitting a low in the conversation. Glad they discussed their conflicts on Thursday, so it wouldn’t be an issue tonight.

  Their respective schedules left no time for intimacy during the week. Jake looked forward to this dinner, hoping it would turn into a weekend. Off call, he wouldn’t let anything ruin the big plans he had in mind for tonight.

  Mia lived in Woodbury, a couple towns away from Wilkesbury. A small, quaint New England town, she owned a condo/townhouse in one of its exclusive areas. A three-bedroom condo with considerable living space; more townhouse than condo, he noted. The front door opened. His cop’s eyes observed his surroundings, missing nothing. He stepped into a generous foyer done in shades of gray; the slate floor supported a huge urn filled with various types of colorful flowers.

  The living room off to his right caught his eye, done in bold reds and whites. A big bow window dressed in red drapes and long, flowing white sheers presented a feeling of welcome. Lots of red throw pillows strewn about on the white leather furniture looked very comfortable. Green leafy plants scattered throughout the room added a nice contrast. The hardwood floor, polished to a high gloss, showed from under the oriental area rug. The rug, in white and red, with specks of yellow and black, brought the room together.

  The beauty of the room caught his eye, though the owner drew and held his attention. A stunning woman, Mia wore a black, sleeveless, form-fitting dress; the bodice was cut to a wide V, exposing the swell of her breasts. The dress edged down, hugging her body at the waist, where a belt accented her waistline; then continued down, clinging to her hips, stopping just above her knees, showing off her long shapely legs. On her feet she wore a pair of black strappy high heels, about three inches in height, completing her look. Jake’s first thought was, ‘I’m a goner.’ He leaned into her, kissing her gently on her lips. Drawing her closer, he deepened the kiss, igniting a fire he hoped would burn out of control tonight.

  In her response, he felt promise.

  Breaking apart, she said, “Hello.”

  “You look amazing.”

  “Thanks. Would you like to come into the living room?”

  “Sure. What smells so good, besides you?” He rubbed his hands down her arms, taking her hands in his, not wanting to break contact.

  “I went simple. Steak and potatoes, with a side salad. You must smell the appetizers. It’s a pastry stuffed with spinach and cheese.”

  “It sounds great. Do you want me to grill the steaks?”

  “No, I’ve got it. What would you like to drink?”

  Their voices stretched with tension as they performed the dance of courting. They both knew where tonight would lead them—dinner a prelude to the event. Food would not quench the hunger each experienced.

  “I’ll have what you’re drinking.”

  “White wine?”

  “Yes. Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “No. I have it under control. Why don’t you come in the kitchen and keep me company while I put the finishing touches on the table?”

  “Okay.” He followed her down the hall. The walls were covered in photographs, both color, and black and white. He passed a guest bathroom at the end of the hallway on the right just before he entered into the huge kitchen/dining area. Three large windows faced the woods in back, giving Jake a full view of the deck and yard. The valance, a half circle, carried the darker colors of the rug and tablecloth in a forest green. The four panels of the drapes alternated between the same green and a beige. The center island’s sink held lettuce in a colander. Mia walked over, started cutting up some of the lettuce. The oval mahogany dining table could seat at least twelve people.

  The table held two place settings in fine bone-white china with a platinum ring on the outside. He guessed Waterford for the crystal. His mother brought the same set from Ireland when she moved to America. Jake got it when she went into the nursing home. In the center of the table stood a large flower arrangement—roses in white, pink, red, and yellow sat on a beige table cloth embroidered with green leaves, with matching napkins.

  With the counter between them, Mia put the appetizers on the island. Pouring the wine, she handed him a glass. Jake clinked his glass to hers, took a sip, never taking his eyes off her.

  “You shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.”

  “It wasn’t any trouble. I like to entertain and I don’t do it enough. And it’s a special night.” She looked at him over the rim of her wine glass. Bringing it to her lips, she sipped seductively.

  He walked over to her. With her back to him, he wrapped his arms around her waist, sending shivers down her spine.

  “What makes it so special?” he whispered, nibbling on her neck.

  She leaned into him, moaned. “Your first time here, and …” She blushed, all of a sudden shy.

  “And…” he said back.

  Unwrapping his arms from her waist, she walked to the fridge, reached in, took out the steaks, turning back to him. “Here, I changed my mind. Why don’t you cook them? It’ll keep your hands busy.” She smiled.

  “I liked where my hands were,” he answered.

  “Hmmm.”

  “Hmmm, that’s it?”

  “Yep.”

  “You have to give me a little more encouragement here, Mia.” He shot her a grin.

  “If I gave you any more encouragement, we’d be on the floor right here, right now, having sex like dogs.” She laughed.

  “It works for me,” he said, straight-faced.

  “Well, it doesn’t work for me, Jake. So go out and cook.”

  “Boy, you’re tough.” He went out with the steaks, fiddled with the grill until it lit and then placed the steaks in the center of the grill.

  She timed everything to the minute. Mia put the salad on the table when he walked in after placing the steaks. Next, she grabbed the bread off the counter, setting it on the table between them; taking a seat, she started serving the salad.

  Jake found Mia easy to talk to and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
He got lost in the blue of her eyes. He spoke about his work. He told her what he could. How far he’d gotten on each case.

  She spoke about her book. He wanted to read it. She told him no, not until it was finished. She spoke about an article she wrote which she’d recently sold to Cosmopolitan Magazine. He heard the excitement in her voice.

  He noticed she only skimmed over her family. She never went into any detail or told any kind of anecdote about them. It left him curious. He figured in time she’d let him in. If not, he’d dig it out of her. So involved in conversation, the timer startled them both when it went off.

  Jake liked his medium rare. She liked hers medium. Both came out perfect. She served them with a vegetable and potatoes. After she sat, she popped up again to bring the gravy to the table.

  “Awesome. Mashed potatoes with gravy, my favorite.”

  “I don’t know anyone who doesn’t like mashed potatoes. I need gravy with mine, or they just don’t taste right.”

  They ate. They talked. They laughed. Most of all, they flirted. Teased one another until the tension in the room could be cut with a knife.

  “You’re so lovely, Mia. You take my breath away.” He rubbed his hand over hers while he spoke.

  “Thank you. You don’t know how much I looked forward to tonight, to having you all to myself for the entire evening…”

  Jake stood up, his plate in his hand.

  “No, don’t Jake. I got it.”

  “No, I’ll help, it’ll go faster.”

  “Why, are you in a hurry for dessert?” Mia looked at him from under her long black eyelashes.

  He came over to her, pulling her up from the chair, cradling her. “Oh yeah, if you mean dessert is being served upstairs?”

  “Jake, you’re so transparent. Put me down or the kitchen will never be cleaned.”

  He put her down. “As I said, let’s work fast.”

  “Do you want some coffee with your dessert?” She grinned.

  “You’re serious. You’re serving dessert?” He just stared at her.

  “I am, unless you have a better offer.” She stared back.

  “Oh, you bet. Do you have any whipped cream?” He picked her up, firemen style, throwing her over his shoulder. He raced up the stairs.

  “No.”

  “It’s a pity. What I can do with whipped cream would make you scream.” He laughed, hoping he could slow down, because he was as hard as the dining room table.

  “I’ll hold you to it for the next time.”

  At the top of the stairs, he asked, “Which way?”

  “To your right, down at the end of the hall.”

  His trained eyes took in everything and nothing. His blood violently coursed through his veins, I need to make love to this woman. She drove him crazy. He wanted his hands and his mouth on her, nothing else existed at the moment but the two of them. He lay her upon the bed, caressing her body with his eyes. A vision in her black dress, her arms exposed, her breast… God, those legs, strapped into those shoes. He hoped he could exercise some control, because he felt sixteen again, and needed to remind himself to slow down, take a breath. He ran his finger over her throat, tracing a path to her cleavage, circling around the bare skin. She shuddered. He continued to run his fingers down the length of her. He rolled on top of her, followed the path of his finger with kisses. Laying his head on her breast when he reached it, listening to the pounding beat of her heart. He continued with his kisses right down to her feet. Working his way back up, he slid his hands under her dress—almost losing it when he discovered the garter belt. It took all his control to go slow. He slipped the dress up over her head, locking eyes. Now, all she wore was the garter belt, stocking, and heels. Beautiful, he mused.

  Her lips were parted slightly, her eyes half closed—she watched him through her thick lashes. Mia grabbed the sheets in her fists, panting, arching to him; her eyes never left his. She couldn’t believe the sensations he created in her every time he touched her. She thought she’d go mad. In a fog, she heard a husky voice begging him to come inside. Realizing it was her own. She increased the motion of her hips, shuddering with need—hoping he’d finish her, push her up and over to orgasm.

  He ignored her, not wanting to rush his exploration of her body, bringing her to the edge, backing off; then bringing her to the edge again. He rolled to his side, running his hands and eyes over her loveliness. At five-nine, her firm, toned body invited him to experience more. Her love of exercise showed in every muscle and curve of her body. He traced circles over her biceps, down to her hands, over to her flat stomach, exploring her curves with his eyes. Each of his senses on overload, he felt he could look at her all day, though right now he needed her. Reaching out for her, she dodged him, pushed him onto his back.

  Her turn to discover. Undressing him, exploring his exposed flesh with a whisper light touch, teasing to the point of no return. She glided over hard muscles, stopping at the silky hard muscle pointing straight up at her. She caressed, loving the pulsating sensation it sent up his shaft. His body felt warm under her hands. Oh yes, she thought, a very well-disciplined body. She loved his reddish-brown hair, which surprised her—she always went for blonds. When they were together, she got lost in his green, green eyes. When they weren’t together, she dreamed of them. They were deep, beautiful, intelligent eyes that looked at as though they could devour her. As if no one else existed or mattered but her. No one in her life ever looked at her with such passion and need. His focus was all-encompassing.

  She trailed kisses down his body, taking him in her mouth, feeling the power, as he begged her to finish him.

  He reached down, lifting her on top of him. He glided into her with a slow steady rhythm, need building in both of them. Her hips pistoned to his, matching the rhythm until each exploded in a frantic climax—the orgasm ripping through them. They completed the act of love with their eyes and bodies locked on each other.

  Mia stretched out on top of Jake while he rubbed her back.

  “I have to say Mia, you take my breath away.” Jake smiled up at her.

  She felt the wild beat of his heart against hers. Looking down into his eyes, she moaned, in a husky voice, “It’s not all you do to me, Jake. Let me just say, wow.”

  “I don’t think I have words for what I just felt. Intense, yes, intense covers it. I love the feel of you, the look of you. I guess I just love everything about you. You’re incredible.”

  “I feel the same. You have such a gentle touch. It’s one of the things I love about you. It’s amazing, because after making love to you, I’m immediately looking forward to the next time.” She rolled over onto her back, rolling him on top of her, laughing. “So, are you ready?”

  “You bet.”

  “You’re a man of few words.” She cocked her head.

  “At the moment, let me show you how a man of action speaks.”

  Jake woke at six o’clock Sunday morning, thrilled to find Mia spooned into him. He pressed his body closer to hers, kissing her neck.

  She stirred, turning toward him. “Good morning.”

  “Morning. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “No.”

  Jake kissed her mouth; she pushed him away. “I have to brush my teeth.”

  He grabbed her, kissed her again. “Don’t go.”

  *

  They stayed in all day Sunday—making love, reading the paper, and making love again. Both were content to keep the world out this weekend. They wanted no one to intrude on their special time together.

  Jake did check his voice mail. Chloe didn’t go out on Saturday night. Meryl Drake and Mark Cavilla did. Meryl went over to a friend’s house in New Britain. Mark went to a country and western bar in Southington. Both went home alone—Meryl at eleven and Mark at one-thirty. Jake thought the case needed a break, big time, or this one would stay in the cold case file. He subpoenaed Chloe’s phone records. The subpoena covered both home and cell, something he’d follow up with on Monday. He’d request one
for Drake’s and Cavilla’s phones also. He put his phone away, looked across the bed at Mia; her nose was buried in the morning paper. He leaned, rubbing his hand on her thigh while nibbling on her neck.

  She put down the paper. “You can’t possibly be ready again?”

  “Is that a challenge?” He grinned.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Seven-thirty Monday morning Jake walked into the bullpen, bypassing Louie’s desk and his attention-grabbing rendition of “Amore”. Shaking his head, Jake continued on to his own office. Taking off his jacket, he turned on his computer.

  He yelled over his shoulder. “What did Sophia do, throw you out this morning?”

  “No. Good morning, Lieutenant. Did you have a nice weekend? Oh, and yes, thanks for asking, mine was wonderful. Sophia and I celebrated all weekend long,” Louie said, with a wide smile.

  “Sorry Louie, you surprised me, being here this early.”

  “Why? It’s my normal time.”

  “I don’t know. You just did. So you and Sophia enjoyed your celebration? Me too.” Jake smiled.

  “Oh really? So dinner was good?”

  “Really great dinner…”

  “So what time did you get home?” Louie pushed.

  “It’s none of your business.” Jake laughed.

  “Oh,” Louie said, disappointed.

  “Cheer up, Louie. Come into my office. I want to review all the interviews from both Friday and Saturday. What do you have planned for today?”

  “Well, I set up an interview with Katy Bonita for noon.”

  “Great. On the way there we’ll stop at my house so I can change.”

  “Change?” Louie questioned. “What’s wrong with what you have on?” Jake watched it dawn on Louie. “You spent the night?”

  “Well, actually that’s incorrect. I spent the last two nights at Mia’s”

  “Well, I’ll be damned. I really like her, Jake, so does Sophia,” Louie said thoughtfully.

  “I do too. Let’s get to work.”