by C. S Luis
The Connection
The Claudia Belle Series
C. S Luis
THE CONNECTION
THE CLAUDIA BELLE SERIES
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FIRST PUBLISHED 2017
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ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN THIS PUBLICATION ARE FICTIOUS AND ANY RESEMBLANCE TO REAL PERSONS, LIVING OR DEAD, IS PURELY COINCIDENTIAL.
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Copyright © 2017 by C.S LUIS
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without written permission from the author.
First Edition: April 2017
Printed in the United States of America
ISBN-13: 978-1542791227
www.FACEBOOK.COM/THECLAUDIABELLESERIES
TWITTER: @CSLUIS2
Contents
1. Dr. John Black
2. Claudia
3. Dr. John Black
4. Claudia
5. Alex
6. Claudia
7. Dr. John Black
8. Claudia
9. Dr. John Black
10. Claudia
11. Dr. John Black
12. Claudia
13. Dr. John Black
14. Claudia
15. Dr. John Black
16. Claudia
17. Dr. John Black
18. Claudia
19. Dr. John Black
20. Claudia
21. Dr. John Black
22. Claudia
23. Dr. John Black
24. Michael
25. John Slater – Venator in Action
26. Claudia
27. Dr. John Black
28. Claudia
29. Dr. John Black
About the Author
Also by C. S Luis
1
Dr. John Black
Dr. John Black
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The days seemed to pass, and I had gotten no closer to my subject or to discovering the whereabouts or indication of anything. Not any closer since my first encounter at the beginning of my mission, no closer to knowing the name that he had whispered in the dreaded hallways. Who was this Pet-tricia?
I came in early and left late, often wandering the dark hallways alone, and now as I sat there working on the budget, I thought of how much I hated this job. I was required to put together a financial plan proposal to be reviewed by the board to be finalized by the school district budget. And there was also the impending matter of teacher evaluations. As well as the matter of impending extra-curricular activities; a few teachers wanted to set-up and arrange field trips.
Goddamn, did it ever end?
The morning had barely begun, and I was already neck-deep in paperwork and requests, not to mention parent meetings and discipliner duties. Therefore I hated deskwork, and I had never wanted the mission in first place. I wanted to go. What the fuck was I doing here? What the fuck had Bryce done to me?
When was I going to have a moment to find my subject or do anything that I was sent here to do? I had used the tools The Company had given me to find the subject, had succeed in locating him briefly. But was no closer to capturing him, and certainly no closer to leaving Milton for good.
But each time I thought about leaving, I thought of her, and her face came into my thoughts. And it was the thought of her that made me forget it all; forget that I wanted to leave. If only I could see her just now, perhaps it would give me the boost of desire to remain.
God dammit John. Get a grip. You need to get laid; that’s what you need. How long has it been?
Far too long for John Slater, that was for sure. A few hours were far too long for John Slater. Like I said, if I wasn’t hunting I was fucking, and I wasn’t doing either now, and it was driving me crazy! I had to get my mind off things. But God this work was driving me mad. I couldn’t get my head around it. This isn’t John Slater. This isn’t his life.
I dropped the pen; this had to be the hardest job I had ever had. What the fuck was I doing here?
Oh, that’s right, I’m supposed to be undercover.
How much more could I take? What was I waiting for? What signs did I think would magically appear?
“Excuse me Dr. Black.” I looked up to find a pretty blonde with a slender figure standing at my doorway in a tight tan dress. The top of the dress looked like a jacket with a wide collar spread apart, revealing from within a bit of her white, milky breasts; a very tight black belt and black pumps finished off the outfit. Her hair was a bleached blonde, matching her ghostly skin like that of The Man in White, and she wore very glossy red lipstick. She didn’t strike me as the teacher type but more like a naughty pinup model on a sailor’s calendar.
Beside her was a teenage boy looking not-so-happy about standing at the entrance of my office. I had the feeling he was a troublemaker. He was dressed in a pair of jeans that seemed not to fit properly and a Texan’s t-shirt sized too big for him. What was it with kids and oversized clothing? Couldn’t they ever find anything that fit properly?
“I’m sorry, am I interrupting? Your door was open, and your secretary isn’t at her desk,” the pretty blonde said.
“No,” I said trying to focus. “You’re not.”
Had God read my mind? I needed something, and he sent me a pretty hot blonde. My God, why didn’t I pray more often?
“Please, how can I help you Mrs.—” I politely asked. My half-smile returned; in fact, my body was quivering, and my other brain was awake and wanted to salute her. It was time for Slater to work his magic.
“Ms. Stephens, Karen Stephens. I have a troublemaker, as you can see. Eric Martinez. I caught him skipping again. And now he’s disturbing my class,” she said, frowning down at the youngster.
“I’m not disturbing anything; I just need to get something out of my locker.”
She frowned at him.
I rose from behind my desk; the boy was overtaken by my height, and like most, he suddenly looked like he’d had a change of heart. Could some see something others could not when they looked at me?
Well, I thought, what am I supposed to do with that? I had meeting after meeting regarding disciplining students, and I was trying to think of what would be the best way to solve this issue. Personally, if it were up to me I’d make them do janitorial duties because that’s where they were headed anyways, and they might as well start them off in the right direction.
“Well, what do you suggest?” I asked her politely, and she blushed when she caught the smile on my face.
“I think it’s time we had a meeting with his parents about his behavior,” Ms. Stephens offered.
Again, the boy mumbled, but as to what he said I wasn’t sure; I couldn’t quite understand all the slang. If that’s what you called it.
“I see. I’m afraid I already have a few of those on my list of things for today,” I politely said. I sure as hell didn’t need any more. Pretty blonde looked disappointed.
“Oh,” she said surprised, and seemed to be ready to apologize, perhaps realizing she had just added to my workload.
“But to be honest, I doubt that will be effective,” I said, and she nodded immediately, realizing it herself.
“I guess you’re right, Dr. Black,” she politely answered.
“Please call me John,” I offered, staring briefly at her ghostly breasts. I myself was never the one for a pale complexion, but it looked good on her. And what can I say? It did the job down below.
“Well, what do you suggest John?” She asked, and a smile spread over her plump lips as my name softly spilled through her red mouth. The stu
dent looked very bored with the whole display, and he kept suggesting I just write him a week’s detention.
“Well, if it were up to me,” I said with a grin approaching closely. Her lips curved as she tilted her head slightly; she seemed so observant to my advances. I have to say I was surprised. Either I was very good, or this was far too easy.
“I like to make them do janitorial duties because that’s where they’re headed. We might as well start them off in the right direction. Don’t you think?”
She laughed, putting a hand over her mouth.
“You sure have a great sense of humor. You know, you might want to take that up with the school board; that’s honestly not a bad idea,” she said again.
“What?” Eric stupidly uttered.
“Well, since we can’t do that, I figure perhaps expulsion - maybe even Juvenile detention would suffice,” I continued.
“Wait, what? I haven’t done anything!” The boy uttered nervously and stupidly. Ms. Stephens looked impressed.
“Well, that’s not entirely right Mr. Martinez,” I said while narrowing my eyes at him.
“If you’re disrupting Ms. Stephens’s class, and if I decide that you’re expelled, and then you’re trespassing on school property, then, yes, you have done something,” I softly and very calmly instructed with a clever grin.
“You can’t do that!” Eric uttered, looking slightly worried and frightened. He looked nervous; he wasn’t sure what I could do. Nor was I.
“Oh, but I can. I’m the principal. All I have to do is pick up that radio over there on my desk.” I pointed back to my desk, where at the corner on the charger sat the walkie-talkie that the assistant principals and security guards assigned to patrol the school would answer or use at any given day.
Okay John, you’re getting ahead of yourself.
“And call Mr. Thomas, and then he in turn will have a police cruiser come to Milton and pick you up and take to Juvenile detention,” I said with a clever smile.
“But you must call my parents,” he nervously stuttered.
“Not necessary; how many times have your parents been called in the past?”
He didn’t open his mouth but lowered his head. His parents had obviously been called too many times.
“You see why that’s not going to work this time. So, what’s it going to be Mr. Martinez?” He looked back up at me.
“Can I just go back to class?” He asked, having a hard time looking into my eyes.
“Yes, you may.” A smile spread over his face. “But,” I said, and his expression seemed to fall flat suddenly.
“I’m assigning you a week’s detention.”
He gasped but somewhat still looked relieved too until I said again, “And that’s not all. Ms. Stephens will assign you all the work you have missed while skipping her class. And once the week is over I want to see you have completed everything as instructed,” I firmly said. Walking over to my desk and reaching into the top drawer, I pulled out a yellow slip notepad. I scribbled a few words on it, and then I walked back and handed the slip to him.
“I will be checking on you to make sure you’ve completed your work. Now go to class. I don’t want to see you here again unless it’s to show me your progress. Understood?”
The boy nodded, taking the note and walking out of the office. Ms. Stephens looked surprise; okay, so this was John Slater’s first school disciplinary action of any kind. I just hoped it wasn’t too obvious.
“I’m impressed,” she simply said. “You sure handle things differently. I think most principals are afraid of saying anything that would get them fired. Thanks so much. I haven’t been able to get that kid to take school seriously.” She laughed as I walked back to my desk and put the yellow pad in the top drawer. “You really had him fooled with all that talk about Juvenile detention.”
“I was serious,” I said to her as I turned back and stopped in front of her. She didn’t look surprised; she only smiled again as she slowly now made a move for the door.
“Ms. Stephens,” I said again, wondering how fast I could get her to bed with me. She had given me all the signals, and it was time to make my approach.
“Please call me Karen,” she politely offered, turning back as she now stood at the entrance of my office.
“Karen, I was wondering, would you…” I said again grinning.
She didn’t let me finish because she so suddenly answered, “Yes!” I gazed right at her, perplexed.
“Do you always make it a habit to answer before asked?” I said, wanting to laugh, then watched her face so boldly stare at me; the confidence was overbearing. I’ll be honest. I hate that in a woman, especially when I want the control of everything. I didn’t necessarily hate it, but I didn’t enjoy it when they thought they could get ahead of themselves, or me for that matter.
“If the question is do I want to have a drink with you, then my answer is yes,” she answered so confidently.
“No, it’s not,” I said, and the smile on her face disappeared, and now there was one of surprise and unuttered confusion. She was probably thinking how could she be wrong. I hated doing that to her, but I wanted the control. Let me ask you baby. Don’t take that away from me.
“I was thinking more along the lines of would you like to join me at my house for a drink tonight?” I grinned.
She laughed now and said, “I see. Should I dress for the occasion or bring the wine?” She cleverly asked.
In which I added, “Do you own a blue dress?” She laughed again but didn’t answer. “Don’t worry about the wine,” I said, with a slight grin.
“Good day, John. I’ll see you tonight.”
And with that she walked out of my office.
The end of the day came quickly, it couldn’t have gotten there any sooner; the idea of having Ms. Stephens or Karen in bed with me was driving me crazy. I was like a dog in heat.
Mrs. Wallace had already gone for the day when I came out of the office. It was earlier than I usually left, but it wasn’t every day that I had a date with an attractive teacher. As I was locking up, Michael and Claudia were turning the corner of the hallway. I was on my best behavior as I caught sight of her dragging her school bag over her shoulder; she looked almost startled to see me when our eyes met.
“Good evening Michael,” I softly said, turning my attention to Claudia. “Miss Belle.”
She regarded me with a quick look and then a tiny whisper: “Good evening, Dr. Black.” She lowered her eyes to me.
I wanted to ask, but it was obvious Michael had given her a tongue-lashing regarding the events of the previous day, and she was a little bitter about it.
“On your way, out, Dr. Black?” Michael suddenly asked, breaking my trance.
“Trying to, Michael,” I said, smiling down at Claudia who wasn’t looking up at me, hoping for a smile or anything else from her. I wanted her attention like a spoiled toddler wanting his mother’s attention.
“Plans this evening?” Michael asked. I didn’t want to say I had a date, as if my honesty would mean anything, but did I truly fear saying anything because Claudia was there to hear it? It was best she did hear it, so I could see if there was any sort of jealousy in those beautiful dark eyes. Had the cloud of emotions intensifying and obscuring my judgment further?
“As a matter of fact, I do,” I said.
Claudia barely glanced up; in fact, she looked bored with the whole conversation, walking slowly to the side as I watched her. Was she jealous? Of course, not; she was bored. Boy, did that do wonders for my ego.
She was dressed in a long loose white blouse with a purple tank top underneath, dark fitted jeans, and red Doc Martens, and her long dark mane was swaying against her slender backside. Claudia stood by the windows of the library looking in. I bet she was dreaming of being in there instead of out here with Michael and me, discussing my big plans, which she had no interest in.
2
Claudia
Dr. Black looked proud and smiling; nearly blu
shing, I didn’t understand why he was so happy. But he kept looking over at me oddly as if it was supposed mean something to me. I was very bored with the display, and I just wanted to go home and get ready for the party. Just because Michael said I wasn’t going, well, that didn’t mean I wasn’t going. Who was he to tell me I couldn’t go? Besides, what could happen? I would be back before he even knew I was gone.
They were talking, but I wasn’t listening. I started walking down the hall to get away. I was so distracted by Dr. Black. Could it be that I could sense his thoughts? I turned back around caught him looking back at me as Michael was digging into his leather handbag for the keys. God, he always did that. Dr. Black merely smiled over at me, but it was a peculiar smile, one I didn’t quite understand, and one that was warm, possessed, and absorbed, yet distracted.
When he caught me looking back, the smile on his lips spread so beautifully I had to look down, feeling my face become warm. Why do you look at me that way, I thought? And as I bravely looked back up, I realized he hadn’t looked away, and I could almost sense he had read my thoughts; now his lips parted, and the smile on his face spread until he looked away.
Michael seemed to dismiss himself, and I hurried ahead of him until I heard Dr. Black’s voice: “Miss Belle.”
I turned to catch sight of him and that same beautiful smile and those bright green eyes that seemed to mock me. He said, “Have a good night.”
