Blue Goodness (Michael Kaplan Mysteries)

by David W. Cowles

  She covered her mouth with her hand, and a look of panic crossed her face. “God no! If Oscar Stein ever found out I had that tape, there’s no telling what would happen to me. Please, Michael, you promised—” Her entire body trembled.

  Michael put his arm around Soozie’s shoulder to comfort her. “Don’t worry, Soozie, they could torture me and I still wouldn’t tell anyone where the tape came from.”

  A beep, beep, beep sounded in the kitchen. “I made some coffee, Michael. Especially for you. It’s ready now. I’ll go get it.”

  Soozie started to rise from the couch, but Michael pulled her back down. “I’m sorry. I’d love to have a cup of coffee with you, but I can’t stay. I’m an investigative reporter, and I have a job to do. Mark Caruso and the Metro forensic experts are going to Hogg’s house and clinic to look for evidence and I was invited to go along with them. Anyway, don’t you have to take some documents back to your client?”

  “When I knew you were coming over, I put her off until tomorrow. Please, Michael. Just have one cup of coffee with me. Then, I’ll let you go. I promise.”

  Mark had to prepare search warrants, but he’d said they should be ready and signed by a judge around three. Michael checked his watch. If he left in fifteen minutes he could still get to Caruso’s office in plenty of time to go with him on the investigation. “Okay, just one quick cup,” he agreed.

  She was back on the couch with him in less than a minute. The coffee was exactly the way Michael liked—two sugars and a dash of cream. It wasn’t too hot, and he downed it quickly.

  “What time will you be finished working? I’ll make dinner for you tonight, Michael.”

  “That’s the other thing I wanted to talk with you about, Soozie. I can’t see you any more. You keep forgetting I have a wife.”

  “No, Michael, I don’t forget you’re married, but your marriage is of no consequence now.”

  In an instant, Soozie straddled him and pressed her curvaceous body against his. He wanted to push her off, but the strength had drained from his body. Her full, pouty lips, a breath away, parted, and her aggressive tongue probed his mouth briefly. Her eyes, her emerald green eyes, her tantalizingly fiery emerald green eyes, were just inches from his. He could not look elsewhere.

  Soozie’s voice became a metronome, each syllable a heartbeat.

  “Night before last you told me you love me. Do you remember?”

  When she reminded him, Michael did remember saying the words. What could have been the matter with him? “Yes, I remember.”

  “Tell me again that you love me, Michael.”

  He tried to defy the demand, but could not. “I love you, Soozie.”

  “You told your wife you want a divorce.”

  “Yes, I did.” His voice was sluggish, his speech slurred. It seemed to Michael his words were coming from somewhere outside of his body.

  “I promised that when you told your wife you wanted a divorce you could make love to me. Do you remember?”

  He recalled that, also. “Yes, I remember.”

  “Now is the time, Michael. You can call Mark Caruso later and find out what he learned about Hogg.”

  Michael could not argue with her. He had to do whatever she said.

  Soozie unbuttoned her blouse; she was not wearing a bra. She positioned a breast in front of his mouth. “Suck on my nipple, Michael.”

  He did as he was told.

  “I am going to mark you again, Michael, so your wife will know you have been with me.” She put her mouth to his neck and sucked, until blood flowed to the surface of his skin. After each love bite, she moved to another position, till there were six in all. Michael groaned, partly from the knowledge he would have to face Kimberly, if not Myra, but mostly in ecstasy.

  “Undress me, Michael. Now.”

  He removed her blouse, and timorously his hands moved downward. When they reached her waist, with trembling fingers, he unbuttoned her skirt and slid it to her ankles, then over her feet. Back again to her waist, and her panties soon joined her skirt on the floor. When he finished, she undressed him, quickly and efficiently.

  “It’s time to go into my bedroom, Michael,” she instructed.

  Michael was unsteady on his feet, but with Soozie’s help he was soon lying on her bed. Their bodies intertwined and he kissed her, lingering, savoring every moment. He felt passion rising in him, clouding his brain even further.

  “Do you remember when we made love?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was the last thing you did to me?”

  “I went down on you.”

  “Do it to me again, Michael. Do it to me now.”

  Soozie had unleashed Michael’s innermost fantasies of sexual surrender. His resistance now completely dissolved, his only salvation was to offer his body to her, to please her, to satisfy the sheer passion of her erotic needs. His lips left hers and traced a path down her voluptuous body. The heat emanating from her groin led him to his target, like a moth to a flame, and when he reached it, he embedded his tongue in her quivering flesh. Her legs draped over his shoulders and she pressed her thighs tightly against the sides of his head. She took his hands and guided them to her taut nipples, then stroked his hair gently to the rhythm of his lips and tongue.

  Once Soozie started climaxing she could not stop. After every orgasm Michael paused momentarily to allow her to catch her breath, then proceeded again, ever so gently at first, each time building up to a crescendo as her involuntary movements increased in tempo. He would have continued forever, if she had asked him to do so.

  It was nearly an hour before Soozie released Michael from the prison of her thighs and told him to lie next to her. She sat up and reached into her night stand. “Let’s share a cigarette now, Michael.”

  He wanted to tell her he didn’t smoke, but he could not contradict her. He would smoke to please her. He expected to see her light one of her long thin filter-tip cigarettes and was surprised to see instead a small cylinder, tapered almost to a point at each end. When she lit it, he noticed a strong acrid odor, and knew it was a marijuana cigarette. She passed the joint to him and told him to take a deep drag and inhale. He had never smoked anything, especially not marijuana, but he was not about to refuse to do whatever she wanted. Soon he felt even more mellow. The bedroom seemed to rock and sway back and forth, like a boat on a stormy sea.

  When they finished smoking the joint, leaving nothing but a very small roach, Soozie instructed Michael to lie still. She covered his body with hers. They kissed, their tongues exploring deeply. He wanted to close his eyes, but she insisted he keep them open. Her emerald irises glistened like crown jewels and there was a sultry smile on her face.

  Soozie moved down Michael’s body, a little at a time, every several inches blazing a trail on his chest and abdomen with more love bites. He could not move, for she had told him to lie still, and he could not disobey her. Michael moaned with pleasure when Soozie’s body was finally ensconced between his legs and she took his engorged member in her mouth. As he watched her head bob up and down, he decided that emerald green and bright orange had become his favorite colors. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, no other woman could ever satisfy him again. His orgasm, delayed for so long, was explosive.

  “You are now mine, Michael, and I am yours. Forever,” she told him.

  “Forever,” he echoed.

  “It is our destiny.”

  “Yes. Our destiny.”

  “Tonight you will pack your things, Michael, and tomorrow you will move in with me.”

  “Yes, Soozie, I will.”

  Then, without any urging from Soozie, Michael buried his head between her thighs again and resumed the activity that gave her, and now him, the ultimate pleasure.

  Soozie smiled inwardly. Mission accomplished. Michael was now completely addicted. Not to the drugs she had put in his mouth and in his coffee, not to the marijuana she had made him smoke, and not to her hypnotic suggestions, but to the erotically fragrant juice
s of her body, a scent that was hers alone. She had learned, in her study of psychology, that the sense of smell was the most powerful narcotic of all. The slightest hint of a fragrance can instantly evoke graphic memories of an event long-forgotten or create desires so intense all logic is disregarded, for, as wine expert Gerald Asher once wrote, “Smell bypasses the rational intellectual processes and goes straight to our core of emotion, memory, and nervous reflex.”

  Thirty-Four

  MICHAEL AWOKE at eight in the evening in a state of abject panic. The effects of the drugs were tapering off, leaving him with an immense headache; the instructions given under hypnosis remained. Of course, Michael didn’t know he had ingested drugs nor was he cognizant of the hypnotic suggestions Soozie had instilled in his mind.

  Soozie was lying next to Michael on top of the covers, completely nude. Her eyes were closed and he assumed that she, like he, had fallen asleep after their long afternoon of lovemaking. Michael’s opinion of Soozie had taken a 180 degree turn. He now considered her to be a voluptuous, scintillating, and immensely fascinating woman. If he were not married—he almost thought happily married, but, alas, that was no longer true; for him, the phrase had become an oxymoron—he really could go for her. Apparently, he thought sardonically, he had gone for her.

  And then guilt set in.

  He remembered every word he had said to Soozie and every detail of their lovemaking. He told her he loved her. Over and over and over again. Who was he trying to convince, Soozie or himself? He recalled that he had repeatedly pleasured her as if she were a goddess. He had been completely submissive, abasing himself and fawning at her every whim and idiosyncrasy. That wasn’t like him. Not at all. He didn’t understand why he wanted—no, needed—to cater so subserviently to her lascivious desires. No, needed wasn’t the right word, either. He had been compelled to obey her.

  It wasn’t as if Michael didn’t have any self-control. He’d certainly proven he did, time and again, with Kimberly. For months she’d tried to get him into her bed. Constantly, and to no avail. Although Michael really cared for Kimberly—even loved her, if the truth were known—because he was married, he had resisted her sexual advances without any effort at all.

  Or, had he? What about last night? When he woke up that morning he was in Kimberly’s bed. He had no idea how he got there, no concept of what they had done together, but she gloatingly hinted in Mark Caruso’s office—bragged, almost—that they had made love most of the night. Why couldn’t he remember anything about that, when he remembered every detail of what he and Soozie did?

  Michael got off the bed quietly, hoping Soozie would not awaken, not yet, anyway, and tiptoed into her bathroom. He was shocked when he glanced in the mirror and saw the purple marks ringing his neck and decorating his body, like surrealistic tattoos. Soozie had planted the hickeys deliberately, to let his wife know in no uncertain terms he had been unfaithful. She told him that was her intent, and he had docilely allowed her to do as she pleased, without a single word of protest. Now he must display the love bites as a sign of his infidelity. He might as well be branded on the forehead with a scarlet letter.

  He could not go home to Myra looking like he did; his marriage would be over for certain. But then, he wasn’t planning on going home, anyway. Myra had thrown him out. On the other hand, there was Kimberly. Kimberly would be furious to learn he’d had sex with Soozie again. She’d warned him about Soozie, more than once, and he had disregarded her admonitions. He couldn’t even go to work tomorrow without raising eyebrows and having the secretaries snicker behind his back. There was only one thing to do. He had to get to a mall before the stores closed and buy some turtleneck shirts.

  Clothes. He had to pack his clothes tonight and bring them back to Soozie’s apartment in the morning. He was going to move in with her. Why? He couldn’t answer his own question—he just knew that was what he had to do. He had no choice in the matter. That’s what Soozie wanted, and whatever Soozie wanted of him, Soozie got.

  Michael decided to take a quick shower before leaving. He reeked with a gamy odor, as if he had been making love for hours--which he had. He adjusted the water so it was neither too hot nor too cold, and had just stepped into the shower enclosure when he heard the bathroom door click open. A moment later, Soozie entered the shower with him.

  “Make love to me again, Michael. Now,” she ordered. And he did. Willingly. The way she liked best. And then, with the water still streaming over their bodies, she knelt down on the ceramic tile and devoured him.

  “Are you hungry, Michael?” Soozie asked, as they were getting dressed. “If you don’t want to go out to a restaurant, I can throw a couple of steaks on the grill.”

  Michael hadn’t eaten since lunch, but he was feeling more than a little nauseated and was anxious to leave. “No, thanks. I think I’ll skip dinner tonight. I could use a cup of coffee, though, if it’s not too much trouble. I’m feeling a little groggy and the caffeine might perk me up.”

  Soozie was not about to send Michael out after drinking more of her special adulterated blend. At this stage, he would be much too vulnerable to suggestions made by others, especially his wife. As it was, Soozie wasn’t sure how long the effects of the drugs lasted. He was still completely under her spell when they were in the shower. “I’m sorry, Michael. I used the last of the coffee this afternoon,” she apologized. “I’ll go to Clancy’s and get some more coffee beans tomorrow.”

  “That’s okay. I can pick up a cup at McDonalds.”

  Soozie walked Michael to her front door, then clasped his body tightly against hers.

  “What are you going to do tonight, Michael?” she asked, testing him.

  He responded like the automaton he was becoming. “I’ll be packing my clothes, so I can move in with you tomorrow.”

  “Tell me again you love me, Michael. I never get tired of hearing you say it.”

  “I love you, Soozie,” he parroted mechanically.

  “I love you too, Michael,” she told him, meaning it with all her heart.

  MICHAEL’S HEAD STARTED CLEARING the minute he stepped into the fresh air; yet he could not wait to get back to Soozie again. Perhaps he should get his clothes and return tonight. No, he couldn’t do that. She had told him to come back in the morning.

  He pointed his Mercedes toward the Boulevard Mall on Maryland Parkway, to pick up a few turtleneck shirts. As soon as he turned the corner and was out of sight of Soozie’s apartment he called Kimberly on his cellular. She sounded angry.

  “Michael, where in hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you all afternoon and evening,” she fussed.

  He fully intended to confide in Kimberly, but did not want to tell her over the telephone that he’d been in bed with Soozie most of the day. “Something came up. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home. I have one more stop to make, but I should be there within the hour.”

  “Have you had dinner? I made a tuna casserole. I’d just about given up on you and was going to start on my salad, but I’ll wait until you get here, if you’d like.”

  “I’m not very hungry now. Go ahead and have your dinner. Perhaps I’ll have more appetite later.”

  “Everybody’s been looking for you. Geller, Mark Caruso, even Myra.”

  Myra. That reminded him. “Did you have lunch with Myra today?” He hoped Kimberly would say no, that she had been somewhere else when he called the office and found out she wasn’t there.

  “Yes, we did. We had a very pleasant lunch and ironed quite a few things out.”

  “Oh? What?”

  “I’ll tell you when you get here. It would take too long on the phone. I think you’ll be pleased. I certainly am. Hurry home, Michael.”

  The suspense was killing him, but Michael was not in a mood to press Kimberly for answers. Whatever she had to say would keep. “Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  They said their goodbyes. Michael decided Geller could wait until morning. The editor was an early riser
, and probably in bed asleep by now anyway. And Michael definitely didn’t want to talk to Myra until after he found out what Kimberly and Myra had discussed. He did call Mark Caruso, however. Mark had left Metro for the evening, but Michael caught him at home.

  “What happened to you today, buddy? I waited for you at headquarters as long as I could.”

  “Something came up suddenly, Mark, and I couldn’t phone to let you know I couldn’t make it. How did your investigation go?”

  “Things were pretty much as we expected. We went to Hogg’s house first. There was blood everywhere. We can’t get the DNA results back for a few days, but our own lab tests proved some of the blood was Mrs. Hogg’s blood type and some was Gunther’s blood type. We also found the murder weapon. Mort Postum guessed right. It was a surgeon’s scalpel.