Grave Misgivings

by Kristen Houghton

  “After they captured her, the brother of the man I killed decided on what he felt was the most appropriate punishment for someone who had helped kill his brother. He taped her mouth shut, then buried her alive under six feet of dirt and rocks.”

  I feel sick to my stomach. The cruelty of humanity never ceases to scare me. “Did you know what happened to her?”

  “No, not immediately. I hid in the jungle for more than twenty-four hours before I knew she’d been captured. A local hunter had seen it all, my escape and her capture. By the time he

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  found where I was hiding, the cartel members had moved on. He took me to where they had

  buried Victoria.

  “She’d been under the ground for over a day and I knew the chances of her being alive were non-existent. Still, I didn’t want to leave her there so, with his help I dug up her grave. When I found her body her sightless eyes were open in terror and her nails and fingers were shredded raw from trying to claw her way out of the dirt. I was too late to save her.”

  I need to ask a question that is burning to be answered. “And the man who did this? Please tell me he’s not alive.” He shakes his head. “With what you know about me, Cate, do you think I would let him live?”

  “No, I don’t. What happened after you found Victoria?”

  “I took her body back to the plane and flew her stateside, to Florida, where I was met by a woman and two men who helped orchestrate our mission. They helped me place my beautiful, foolish Victoria in an empty mausoleum in an abandoned church yard. I couldn’t bear to put her back in the ground. Then…I went back to Colombia.

  “It took me almost a month before I could find the cartel enforcer but when I did, I made sure that his death was more brutal than what he had done to Victoria. I kept him alive for three days. Let’s just say he suffered…a great deal. After his elimination I hid out in Florida and drank two years of my life away, guilty for not being able to save Victoria. Eventually, the guilt dulled, I stopped trying to destroy myself and I went back to doing what I do best: killing.” He gets up. “So that’s the story of Victoria. As far as my helping you find Jennifer, well, you can read a lot into my story or nothing at all. Never forget for a second that I am not one of the good guys; I’m a highly skilled assassin, a killer and I enjoy my job. Let’s just say that I was able to do for Jennifer what I couldn’t do for Victoria. After tonight I’ll never mention the name Victoria again. It’s too painful. But for some strange reason that I can’t explain, I wanted you to know who she was.”

  He walks over to me. I jump up from my chair and he laughs. “Don’t worry. You’ll never see me again. One loose end to tie up and then I’m gone.” Marc Croft, the assassin, the highly paid killer-for-hire, the Eliminator, unexpectedly grabs me tightly and kisses me gently on the mouth. “Good-bye, Cate Harlow, Private Investigator. Stay safe.”

  Then the ghost, the White Death walks out of my door and out of my life.

  ๕๕๕

  I write down all the details I remember about my last visit from Marc Croft and put it in a password-encrypted file on my computer. This is one file that I do not intend to share with anyone. It’s for my own personal info and I hope I never have to add anything to it. I don’t think I will; somehow I believe that Marc Croft will keep his promise that I’ll never see him again. I have to trust him on that.

  Later that night I’m on the computer writing up the last few notes for Melissa’s private investigation when I hear my front doorbell ring and my named called. “Cate?” Will’s voice carries through the front door and I get up to open it. He kisses me and hands me take-out from his favorite deli.

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  “Hey, baby.” He hugs me and kisses the side of my neck. Releasing me he takes his service revolver and badge and places them in the top drawer of my breakfront. I notice an envelope sticking out of his jacket pocket as he takes the jacket off, loosens his tie and tosses the jacket and the envelope onto an armchair.

  “Got any Chivas?”

  “In the china cabinet. Pour me one too.” Hitting save on Melissa’s file, I log off listening to Will open cabinet doors and rattle glasses. Today is the day the results for the Bar were due to come in. I’m dying to know what’s in the envelope.

  Carrying two glasses and the bottle of Chivas, Will comes back into the living room. Handing me one of the two glasses he carefully pours the liquid first into mine and then into his own. We clink our glasses together in a silent toast. He looks so serious and not at all happy. I hear him blow out his breath before he downs his entire tumbler and immediately pours himself another. The deep exhales are the only fragile side of Will I know. He’s fearless and professional on the job but personal issues bring out the stressed deep breathing I know so well. I reach over and grab his hand.

  “Results are in for the Bar, baby.” He doesn’t smile. Shit! He didn’t pass! I feel horrible for him.

  “Bad?” I ask putting my own tumbler down on the coffee table ready to offer hugs, kisses, and any other physical acts he wants for comfort.

  “Bad?” He laughs and drains his second glass. “Bad!” He mutters the word again. Oh boy, I can feel the tension in the room.

  “Well, how…bad? I mean you know that you can always take it…again and…I know that you might see this as…”

  “I passed.”

  “What?!”

  “I passed the God-damned thing. I passed the Bar with fucking flying colors!”

  I don’t know whether to smack him or hug him. He passed! But he doesn’t seem happy about it. Maybe he’s in shock or just so tired from all the studying and the grind of taking the actual exam.

  “But that’s great, Will. You passed the Bar. That’s quite an achievement, don’t you think? I’m so proud of you!” I decide to hug him. “Did you call Francesca? She will be over the moon with this news.”

  He exhales deeply. “No, I didn’t call her and I’m not going to call her, not right now.”

  I sit down again and sip my drink. Will drops onto the couch exhausted, like a man who has run a marathon.

  “Well sure, I mean, you want to savor the moment for a while, I understand. You can always call her later tonight or tomorrow even.” He doesn’t respond. “I’m just so glad you decided to tell me that you passed.”

  Will moves closer to me and rests his arm on the back of the couch. “I told you, Cate, because I’m going to tell you something else. I’m happy I passed, don’t get me wrong on that score; it feels good to have passed the state Bar. I accomplished something that I needed and wanted to do.” He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “But…right now, I don’t know what I

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  want to do with it. I don’t know if I really want to give up doing what I’ve been doing for twelve

  years. I’m not ready to walk away from being a detective.” He sighs deeply again. “Truth, Cate?

  I love being a NYPD detective; it isn’t just a job to me, it’s so much a part of who I am. I don’t

  know if I’m ready to make this dramatic a change and I don’t even know if I want to be a lawyer

  full time. Do you know what I mean?”

  I understand exactly what he means. I gave up a job that had a steady paycheck and set hours to become a private investigator where as far as money goes, it’s feast or famine, and twenty-four hour days are all too frequent. But as crazy, sometimes frustrating, and dangerous as my job can be, I love what I do and wouldn’t go back to sitting in an office translating legalese for anything.

  We sit in silence for a while both of us lost in our own thoughts. A second tumbler of Chivas has added to a nice relaxed, mellow feeling. Will takes out his phone. Taking me into his arms he whispers, “Remember this?” and presses the music icon. In the Still of the Night begins to play, the soft sweet voices of Fred Parris and the Five Satins blending seamlessly. Even though the song was recorded in 1955 before either of us had been born, it pl
ayed a part in the hot and heavy sex life of Cate Harlow and Will Benigni. Will played it the night we first made love in his loft apartment. It helped a very hot man seduce a very overwhelmed with lust me and I gave into an entire night of unbelievably intense passion that left me breathless and eager for more. Will loved the song because they sang the lyrics, “I re-mem-ber that night in Ma-a-ay...”; May is the month we met.

  Now as I hear the familiar harmony I feel my body responding to Will’s passion as he easily removes my clothes and touches places with his hands and tongue that drive me to breathless ecstasy. When we’re both naked Will lays me down on the thick area rug and we make love over and over again as the music replays. The slightly salty taste of his skin and the heat from his body merging with my own gives our lovemaking a sensation that we are alone in a beautiful erotic world of our own creation. We slip in and out of sleep and awaken to explore each other anew. Life is good.

  ๕๕๕

  I’m making coffee the next morning when Will gets a call from a fellow officer. “Right. Got it. Let’s see if we can keep this in-house for now. Media doesn’t need to have knowledge of this right away. Thanks for the head’s up.”

  “Will?”

  “Edward Penn was found dead in his cell at Rikers last night, his throat expertly slit from ear to ear. Officers questioned at the prison said it looked like a professional hit but gave no details as to how the murder may have taken place. No one, it seems, heard or saw anything, no sound, no notice of unknown persons. A typed note next to the victim read: ‘Services rendered, for payment received’. I asked that this be kept quiet for now but you can be sure it will get out. Anyway, his demise, such as it was, saves the city of New York the price of a trial.” I shake my head in agreement and think about the Eliminator tying up one last loose end.

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  What had Marc Croft said? “I get paid for a job, it gets done, one way or another.” Looks like he takes it seriously. In a twisted, strange sort of way he fulfilled his contract with Jennifer Brooks-Warren and served his own brand of justice to Edward Penn.

  ๕๕๕

  Melissa gives me a hug and her dog Dixie does a little dance in front of both of us. “I’m going to New Orleans for a while, Cate. I need to get out of New York City for a bit and see my Tante Anjali. Are you sure it’s no bother to watch Dixie for me?”

  “Of course not. Little Guy and Mouse already love him, right Dix?” My cats may not exactly love Dixie but they accept him as a friendly guest. Both cats have let Dixie know which areas of my brownstone are off-limits to him and which are common ground. Just like humans, cats and dogs can get along very well if they respect each other’s privacy.

  The black standard poodle named Dixie looks at her, then at me and gives a little bark of happiness. Melissa smiles. “I’ve told my clients where I can be reached and one or two may be coming to New Orleans for a visit.” She knows I understand who she means when she says “clients” but our friendship is a solid one based on discreetness and loyalty. I just nod.

  ๕๕๕

  Life is pretty much back to normal, if I can call my life normal at any time. Harry and Myrtle are back together in their comfortable and happy marriage which is good. They went away for a nice long weekend and Myrtle came back happy and all smiles. I didn’t ask but I strongly suspect that a certain little pill put both Myrtle and Harry back on the sexual track. I’m glad for them; healthy sex is good at any age.

  Harry’s pastries are a daily delight at the office of Catherine Harlow, Private Investigations, making me play tennis two extra days a week to be able to fit into my jeans. But all’s good.

  The infamous, untraceable coffin Edward purchased from Luca Memorial Services was finally found. Edward had sold it to a funeral home in New Jersey. By the time I traced it to its location, the Perfect Ruby Rest 0557 had become the final, comfortable, and very expensive resting vehicle for one ninety-eight year old Miss Frances Polanca. I took a picture of this “lovely, lovely model” and sent it to the ghoulish Mr. Jasinski at Luca Memorial who confirmed that it was indeed the Perfect Ruby Rest 0557 picked up by a person we now know was Edward Penn. I paid my respects to Miss Polanca and her family then hurriedly left for NYC glad to be done with coffins and burials for a while.

  Jennifer Brooks-Warren was released from the hospital three weeks after we found her and soon after that she came by to give me a check for my services. She told me that she sent a check, plus a bonus, to Adrian. Jennifer had no idea that Edward wasn’t paying the bills. Her business manager at the bank is taking care of outstanding bills and making sure to clear any credit damage caused by Edward Penn in her name.

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  She will not talk about what happened to her but I know that she’s glad she didn’t have to testify at a trial about her ordeal. Edward’s demise removed that burden from her. Her statement to police about what happened was sufficient. She did tell me that she is seeing a therapist. “It’s something that I wish I had done before I met Edward. My lack of self-esteem is a major issue in my life. I allow men to take advantage of me,” says this incredibly beautiful woman. “Physical changes don’t change who you are or the problems inside you. I need to work on that.” Amen to that. Work on the inner self first and then deal with everything else.

  After some sleepless nights and a good, honest talk with Myrtle, I made a final decision concerning what I should do about Moira Hollis. Having checked out Moira’s story about having an abusive father and her virtual abandonment by her mother and siblings, I found that she had told me the truth. She also told the truth about Anthony Cole. They had dated and, according to sources, were seriously involved. Anthony Cole did work for Damian Hollis and he did suddenly just disappear. He was never found, no body, nothing. It is entirely possible that her father had him killed.

  I came to believe that it would serve no moral purpose to have her arrested for the hired murder of her father more than two years ago. Even though I felt that my decision was the best one, I needed affirmation that I was doing the right thing. I wanted to run it past Myrtle, someone whom I see as a paragon of virtue. How would she view my decision? What would she think of me if I didn’t inform the police in Virginia about this murder? How would she view letting a woman who had hired a hit on her own father, bastard though he was, go free?

  I found out that that peerless diamond Myrtle Goldberg Tuttle can be very practical when it comes to what’s really right or wrong; she agreed with me one hundred percent. As she said, “Sending that poor woman to face justice now would be the same as beating a child for standing up to a bully. Besides, Catherine, I have a feeling she lives with the fear of what she has done and that’s punishment enough. She certainly can’t tell anyone and she can’t seek help from a therapist and confess what she’s done, so she has to keep all the feelings bottled up inside herself. You did say that the man was a monster to her. I think, I really do think, that you should let this one go.

  “As I told you a couple of weeks ago, I’ve learned a few things working here, Catherine. When it comes to the law, it isn’t always a question of black and white. There are some much-needed gray areas that should be explored before a choice is made concerning what’s truly wrong and what’s right. Moira was the victim in more ways than one.” She places her hand on mine. “This is the right decision, honey.”

  She’s right. Moira Hollis had certainly suffered enough. She had endured life with a cruelly dominating father, been abandoned by a frightened alcoholic mother, and left to fend on her own by older siblings who just wanted to get as far away as possible from a painful home life. She also knew in her heart that her father had gotten rid of the only man who had really loved her. In the great scheme of things, the loss of one Mr. Damian Hollis only means that the world has one less nasty bastard living in it.

  Melissa has been in New Orleans for a month and has kept in touch mostly by text and e-mails. She has called me to talk a few times and has also left
voice messages so that Dixie can

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  hear her voice. She seems relaxed. Seeing her Tante Anjali, the woman who raised her, is, she

  says, wonderful. Her last text said she’d be back in New York City in about two weeks.

  Giles and I continue to have lunch at least once a month. We’re friends although there are times when I feel Giles would like us to be more than that. Truthfully, he’ll always be someone who makes me feel warm and sexy whenever we’re together. He’s still seeing Dr. Felicia but he insists that neither one of them wants a serious commitment. I hate to admit that the little jealous spark inside me is glad to hear him say that. I feel bitchy about that but at least I’m honest with myself. Giles and I had something very special for a time there and it’s a sweet memory.

  Will told his mother Francesca that he passed the Bar and she, Will, and I, along with Myrtle and Harry had a small celebration at Regina Margherita instead of the super large one Francesca wanted to throw for him with family and friends. He was adamant about no one knowing he passed the Bar until he was ready to tell everyone. “It’s my accomplishment, let me savor it alone for a while with the people who mean the most to me,” is what he told Francesca.

  Will still hasn’t made a final decision on exactly when, or I really think, if, he’ll be ready to leave the NYPD Detectives Bureau and start a new career as a lawyer. Right now I think we both like life the way it is; we have our careers, we’re together two or three times a week, and everything is smooth. Life is, indeed, very good.