The Body Hunters

by Newcastle, Raven

  "Your parents must not have been able to afford cosmetic surgery to fix that scar. It must have been horrible for you to have to grow up under those conditions." Cassie offered.

  "Actually no, I don't have a problem with my scar. It's a part of me."

  "That is so noble of you." Sarah said, before turning to Gerard. "Jerry, isn't there something you could do about her scar?"

  Danny couldn't believe that Sarah just called Gerard 'Jerry' and that she had the audacity to ask him about her scar, as if she was a defective Coach handbag.

  "Sarah, keeping the scar is Danny's decision. I love her just the way she is, scar or no scar." Gerard offered, squeezing Danny's hand.

  "Besides, I'm definitely not the surgery type. But you ladies are definitely pioneers." Danny said dramatically placing her hand over her heart. "You've gone and added to what the good Lord gave you. Breast and ass augmentation, Botox, collagen injections, and face lifts. I am so envious of you. Here I am with my little self, stuck with the voluptuous ass and C-cups I was born with. You all are truly my inspiration."

  While the women looked outraged their faces turning red despite their perfect suntans, the men had to force themselves to keep from laughing. Dominick failed and started choking on his drink, leaving his outraged wife to slap him on the back. Gerard gave Danny a look that said knock it off' but she didn't care. If it were not unladylike, she would give him the middle finger and tell him what she thought of everybody at the table.

  "I'll just be honest, you're definitely not what I imagined when Gerard told us he was engaged. You're a little different than the women he's dated in the past." Cassie informed her after she had regained her composure.

  “Oh really? Different in what way?" Danny challenged, meeting her knowing look with one of her own.

  She knew the game that Cassie was about to play and the cards she was dealing. Racism wasn't something that was new to her. She had been working with this skin for twenty-eight years and there was no situation she could not handle. Danny had the mental skin of a rhino, so Tricia and Cassie could continue to throw their daggers. They didn't hurt one bit. Hell, she might even throw a few back.

  "Well, I assumed his type was of the blond, blue-eyed variety." Tricia returned ignoring the 'shut the hell up' look Cliff was giving her. "He had this little model he used to date, her name was Paula…oh no, her name was Paris. Anyway, Jerry and Paris were so--"

  "Tricia, that's enough. I'm sure Danielle doesn't want to hear about that." Cliff warned.

  Gerard even chimed in. "Enough, Trish."

  "Of course she wants to hear about Paris. Don't be silly." Tricia dismissed her husband with a wave of her hand. "Anyway, those two were so crazy about each other. We were supposed to meet them at Jerry's apartment for dinner. We get there and the door is halfway open. So we step in the apartment and catch them right in the act. I've never seen two people look more embarrassed."

  The women giggled like schoolgirls while their spouses and Gerard looked horrified.

  Nonchalantly, Danny shrugged her shoulders and met Tricia's icy glare. "A model you say? That's probably why Gerard's not with her anymore. You know how models are shaped, nothing but knees and elbows. No wonder he needed a little brown sugar in his life. I'm pretty sure Gerard has no complaints about me being a little more voluptuous than his model friend."

  "Burn!"Dominick muttered, concealing a grin behind his hand.

  Danny could see she had started chipping away at the ice queen's cool facade. Something akin to hatred blazed in the woman's eyes. Cassie, sensing her friend was now at a loss for words, continued the conversation.

  "I absolutely love that dress. Who are you wearing?" Cassie inquired innocently.

  "Alexander McQueen." Danny responded rolling her eyes. At this point she wasn't even trying to conceal her annoyance with the fifty questions.

  "What about your shoes?" Tricia asked regaining her voice now that Cassie seemed to have her back.

  "Christian Dior." Danny could feel that they were working as a tag team, but she had no idea where this attack was going.

  "You must feel so lucky being engaged to a doctor." Tricia began. "He can buy you all those nice things. You're living in that beautiful mansion in Sheridan Hills. It must feel so good for a woman of your background to be able to afford the finer things in life."

  Save for Tricia and Cassie, every mouth at the table was wide open in shock. Danielle pinned both the women down with a stare.

  "I don't know what kind of ideas you have about me." She began, sipping from her glass of water. "But, I am nobody's kept woman. My dress, my shoes, everything I own is mine, paid for with my money, from my job. I'm not sitting around waiting for Gerard to hand me an allowance."

  Cassie turned beet red while Tricia continued to glare. They were all saved by the ringing of a cellular phone. Everyone at the table checked their pockets or evening bags for the source of the ringing. Thankfully the phone was Danny's, which was strange since she didn't get many phone calls save for Stephania or Gerard. She scrunched her nose at the Washington Area code displayed on the caller ID.

  "It's me." She said holding up the phone. Thank you, Jesus. "I'm sorry, but I really have to take this. It's probably work!" Excusing herself from the table, she talked to a waitress who pointed her in the direction of the ladies room.

  The ladies restroom was truly elegant with a separate sitting room, complete with a loveseat and comfortable chairs plus makeup tables. Beyond the sitting area was the restroom. Danny checked the lavatory for occupancy, skipping over the one with the Out of Order sign. Satisfied that she was alone, she redialed the Washington DC phone number.

  "Hello." A baritone, male voice answered. "This is Special Agent Stone."

  "Agent Stone, this is Danielle Labouleaux. I received a call from you a few minutes ago." She responded, leaning against the marble bathroom sink.

  "Yes." He returned in that late night radio host voice. "I'm working a cold case and I was told you could help."

  "My help?Agent Stone, you must be mistaken. I've been gone from the Bureau for years."

  "I understand that ma'am, but there is a murder I'm working on and Special Agent in Charge Lucius Johnson recommended that I contact you if I needed any help."

  Danny was outraged. Lucius had a lot of nerve giving her number out to total strangers. "I'm sorry Agent Stone, but Lucius was mistaken. I'm no longer with the Bureau. I work as a consultant, but that's all. I won't be able to help you with your case." She disconnected the call, shaken that the Bureau would try to contact her after all these years. She didn't even realize that Tricia, Cassie, Sarah, and Melissa had joined her in the ladies room. It was true; wolves really do roam in packs Danny mused. She headed for the exit, but Sarah barred her way, folding her arms and staring her down.

  "You think you are so smart. Just because you're fucking a rich, white doctor doesn't mean you've moved up in the world. You're still garbage you poor little gold digging nigger bitch." Cassie was blatantly all in Danny's face and invading her personal space.

  Amused, Danny cocked her head to the side. "Oh, it's gonna be like that?"

  Cassie and her comrades were participating in what grand mere used to call 'selling wolf tickets'. They were basically making a bunch of noise and racket, trying to scare a reaction out of her. Of course, Danny wasn't the least bit intimidated. She had gone toe to toe with some of the most vicious gang members in New Orleans. No way in hell was she the least bit afraid of these silicone-inflated bimbos.

  "Yes, 'it's like that." Cassie imitated her slight southern accent. "You think you're so smart. Always having a smart answer for everything, trying to make us look stupid."

  "You girls make it so easy." Danny quipped, providing them a curtsy.

  "It's about time you learned your place." Tricia said. "The only thing you're fit for is cleaning toilets."

  "Go back to the ghetto where you belong." Sarah added, more than likely trying to fit in with the queen bees.
>
  "We're gonna teach your black ass a little lesson." Cassie threatened.

  As if on cue, Tricia grabbed Danny's left arm and Melissa grabbed her right. Danielle had a premonition that things were going to end badly, and not for her. If the scene weren't so childish and ridiculous, it would be hilarious.

  "Where's your smartass comments now, huh? You think you're better than us?" Cassie punctuated the question by pushing Danny in the middle of her forehead with her finger. "Just because you're sucking Gerard's dic....."

  Danny snapped.

  The former FBI consultant thrust her head forward, head butting Cassie across the forehead. As Cassie gripped her head in pain, the heel of Danny's shoe shot out like a blade, taking aim at Melissa's toes, which were unprotected by her sandals. Screaming, Melissa forgot all about the arm she was charged with holding. Her arm freed, Danny drew it back, sending her elbow right into Melissa's gut, dropping the woman like a sack of potatoes. Disbelief dawned on Tricia right before Danny grabbed her by her face and shoved her into the wall back first, sending the woman careening into the wall mounted paper towel dispenser and an innocent trash can. Before Cassie could regain her senses, Danny grappled with the woman, kicked open the door to the out of order bathroom stall and dunked her head in the filthy, clogged toilet.

  Seconds later, Danny was back to her senses and virtually unscathed. She dragged Cassie out of the toilet by her hair, leaving the woman sobbing and sopping wet with filth on the bathroom floor. Surveying the damage she'd done, Danny went to the sink to wash her hands and used an alternate paper towel dispenser to dry them. Stunned, Sarah still stood, blocking the doorway. A sinister look from Danny was all it took to move her the hell out of the way.

  "Lesson One, ladies."She said with her back turned in the doorway. "Danielle Labouleaux is not the one with whom to fuck."

  The men must have been able to tell by the look on her face that something bad had went down in the ladies room. They stood up as Danny returned to the table.

  "Danielle? Are you--" Gerard began, but a bloodcurdling scream cut him off. Glasses were dropped and flatware could be heard hitting the floor.

  "My Manolos!!!"Tricia wailed, hobbling out of the bathroom, holding one of her designer shoes. "She broke the heel on my new Manolo Blahniks."

  "I'm gonna kill that nigger bitch! I swear it!" Cassie shouted, following Tricia out. "Look at me! I'm covered in shit! You're gonna pay for this nigger!"

  A black couple stood up, greatly offended by Cassie's use of the racial slur. The eyes of the rest of the restaurant patrons were on the three battered women leaving the restroom along with Sarah.

  "What kind of racist shit is this?" The dining black patron was offended, expressing his feelings with a nearby waiter. "This is supposed to be a classy place and you got this going on?"

  Dominick sobered up quickly and went to calm his wife. "Cassie, that's enough, you're making a damn spectacle of yourself." His nose wrinkled in disgust. "What is that smell?"

  "I don't give a damn about these idiots in this restaurant." She tried to push Dominick, who didn't want to touch her. "You're gonna pay, nigger. I swear it."

  Dominick was stunned by Cassie's use of the word that just streamed out of her mouth. In all the years of their interracial marriage, she had never once used any racial slur, and now he found himself very hurt and disbelieving. He turned away from her and went back to the table, his head in his hands.

  Not the least bit worried, Danny turned to the rest of the husbands still dumbfounded and sitting at the table.

  "You gentlemen will forgive me if I'm not feeling particularly warm and fuzzy about our dinner this evening. I think I'd rather dine at home. You all have a wonderful night."

  She turned on her heel and headed towards the door, half hearing chairs scoot across the floor as the men headed towards the ladies restroom.

  "Danielle." Gerard called after her, but she kept moving until she was outside.

  She asked the valet to hail her a cab as Gerard finally caught up to her.

  "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded outside the restaurant.

  "Oh, what are you deaf now? Didn't you hear what I said at the table? I'm going home."

  "Danielle, you don't have to go home. They--"

  "I think I do. I'm not about to sit through dinner being insulted while you sit idly by scared to open your mouth!" I go to the bathroom to take a phone call and almost get jumped on by your coworkers' wives. I'd expect my future husband to at least try to defend me. Those are your racist friends, not mine."

  "If you give them one more chance, it won't happen again. We can just--"

  "No, Gerard. You're the one who cares about what other people think. I don't. Enjoy your dinner. I'll see you at home."

  He exhaled in defeat. "Look if you're going home, just take the car. I'll have Cliff drop me off or I'll hail a cab." He turned to the valet. "Can I get my car?"

  A few moments later, the Bentley was at the curb. Leaning in through the passenger side window, Gerard looked regretful. "I'm sorry, Danielle."

  "Whatever Gerard!"Pissed, she quickly shifted into drive, leaving a trail of smoke in her wake.

  Twenty minutes later, Danny was carrying her shoes as she headed to her bedroom. Still steaming from the night's encounter with Gerard's friends, she slipped between the cool sheets of their bed. Once again, her finger was aching feeling like there was a scorpion on the inside stinging her flesh.

  Her slumber was full of discontent and turbulence. Shattered visions assaulted her filled with blood, pain and rage. Skeletal fingers grasped for her, trying to submerge her in a lake of blood. Screams assailed her ears begging for mercy and justice. In her vision she was falling down a bottomless pit, reaching for something to break her fall.

  She awoke with a start, nearly toppling out of bed. Her body was drenched in sweat, her silken chemise clinging to her. The combination of her sweat and the central air conditioning caused her to shiver. The vision was still with her, stuck in her brain repeating itself over and over again like an endless video loop. Exhaling sharply, she flexed her fingers relieving the tension in the digits.

  "Babe, what's wrong?" Sleepy-eyed, Gerard rolled over.

  Her anger at him over the night's events came back to her. There was sharpness in her tone when she spoke to him. "It's just a nightmare. Go back to sleep."

  Instead he sat up, moonlight reflecting off his bare chest.

  He wrapped a bare arm around her shoulder. "I just want to apologize for what happened tonight. You were right. I'm your fiancé. I should have been there to back you up. I love you, and you never have to worry about anything like that happening again."

  After the nightmare she had just had, Danielle wasn't in quite a forgiving mood.

  "Whatever." She said shortly, laying her head back on the pillow.

  Chapter 8

  Danielle read back the article she was typing up on her laptop. It had been a couple days since the nuclear blowup at the restaurant, and Gerard had been tiptoeing around her like there were land mines under the floor tiles. The doctors had personally called her on their wives behalf to apologize, but Danny wasn't in the mood for fake apologies. She knew Gerard had probably put the pressure on them to resolve the issue. More than likely the bitches had considered pressing charges for the smack down she had put on Cassie and her cronies, though it would be a little hard to explain to the cops how one woman who was unarmed had taken down three women. Unleashing her anger had felt good, though. She had a little aggression she needed to work out.

  Gerard had tried to placate her by buying her some pricey trinket. He gave her the most peculiar look when she told him to take the gaudy thing back where he got it and that her love wasn't for sale. For the first time since their relationship began, Danny was seriously questioning whether she really wanted to marry into this life or not.

  She felt like an alien, lost in this world of pseudo-smiles and faux acquaintances. It made her homesick, yearn
ing for her parents, grand mere, or even Stephania. Her grand mere always seemed to have the answers. Danny was now on her own trying to sort out this mess called life. Thankfully, Gerard was gone for most of the evening, having a late night meeting with the other surgeons and the crew of the reality show. For once, she was glad he was gone. It gave her time to think and time to catch up on some of her paperwork. She was so busy solving cold cases lately that she was slacking in writing the editorials for Body Hunters.

  The front page article for next month's issue of Body Hunters covered a husband who had seemingly become the world's greatest magician because he had vanished from the face of the earth. His young wife, twenty-five years his junior, was the sole beneficiary of his lucrative automotive parts factory. For fifteen years she had lived the high life with her Latin lover. The former diner waitress had become a world traveler, visiting places most people only saw in glossy travel magazines. Developing an extravagant taste, she draped her body in the finest rags and baubles her deceased husband's money could buy. The woman's fairytale came to an end when her husband's body was finally found. He had been buried on the grounds of one of the factories, which had been closed for decades. Evidence was gathered, the Latin lover sang like a canary, and the woman was locked up for her husband's murder.

  Danny knew most of the facts of the cold case were true, except how the investigators really got the evidence. She hated lying to her readers who consisted of mostly C.S.I. wannabes. With all the forensic reality shows and police dramas on television, everyone wanted to be amateur detectives. She also knew how they got the evidence had to be changed. The general public wasn't quite ready to learn that their tax dollars were spent on employing psychics.

  Interlacing her fingers, Danielle stretched her arms forward letting the tension of the movement crack her knuckles for her. She had spent too many hours on her computer today hunched over the keyboard. Feeling at once tired and antsy, Danielle stood up from her desk and stretched hoping to untie the knots in her back. Her hands now on her lower back she pushed out a little and groaned a bit wondering what her chances were for early onset arthritis. The pain in her ring finger seemed to also start back up. Throbbing pain was turning into little sharp jabs.