by A K August
I wanted to believe Katie wasn't like other journalists, but Uncle Jackson had been burned so many times, and I'd had a few run-ins as well, none going well. I couldn't resist. I walked over and kissed her. Her lips on mine made me want to chuck the paint roller and dive deeper, but if we wanted to sleep in my bed tonight, we had to get this done. The idea of the guest mattress cutting into my back kept me on task. I should get a new mattress in there at some point. It was almost cruel and unusual punishment to force a friend to use it.
"Could your aunt and uncle come here for dinner?" Katie asked.
"The painting is a good start, but with Claire's decorating eye, I wouldn't have reason to invite them until I get new furniture and have it just the way I want it. Which would be hard to do in the next week."
She nodded and went back to her trim.
"Plus, Uncle Jackson is more likely to talk in his house than here. I don't want him to feel like it's an interrogation. We have some time to think about it. Until they vote on Jackson's bill, he'll be focused on that."
We painted more, getting the first coat on and breaking for dinner before pushing through with the second coat. We talked about what I wanted to do with the living room, which was the next project we were tackling, and more about her film and my friends at work; everything but the case.
The next week flew by. I worked on the Colby murder as well as a few other investigations that came up. Katie hunkered down behind her computer, stringing her documentary together. She mentioned she had a few more interviews she needed to do to complete it, and she left holes where she hoped the new material would drop into the piece.
Katie confessed that she hadn't been able to watch the Colby interview since discovering and seeing the murder in her files. She thought she might have to hand the project over to someone else to finish it.
"Is that what you want to do?" I asked.
"No, but how can I finish it if I can't work with the footage?" She started viciously slicing cucumbers with a chef's knife. I deftly took the large knife from her and replaced it with a smaller paring knife. The woman thought she was invincible to kitchen utensils even though she'd gotten road rash from the cheese grater, clipped the edge of her fingers three times with the chef's knife, and nearly shattered her knee with a meat tenderizer. I know better than to leave her alone in the kitchen.
"What's scares you about watching it?"
I stirred the stew, offering her a taste.
"It's like a horror movie I've already seen and didn't like how much it scared me. I get tense, knowing what's coming, and I can't focus on anything but that. Then I remember that I was there. A couple of minutes earlier and he'd have killed me too."
I took her in my arms and she hugged me back. "Oh, baby. I'm sorry you had to go through that."
She sniffled a little and looked up at me. "I'm too close to this project; a journalist should be impartial. How can I do that?"
"Maybe you can't with this. Maybe you need your passion for the topic to drive you. If Colby had been in a car accident after leaving your interview, would you still be as emotional about the interview?"
She chewed on her bottom lip and I wanted to nip at it. She was so adorable when she thought through a problem. "Yes, but not in the same way."
"Do you think what Colby said in the interview changes what story you want to tell?"
"No. I remember ticking off the bites, knowing where I wanted to use them. There is a lot of good material in that interview."
"So maybe you need to make sure his last interview doesn't get cut up by someone who's not as passionate as you are about education. You owe it to Colby to make the best documentary you can."
She smiled warily at me. She liked the idea but wasn't sold.
I had one more card up my sleeve. "I could watch it with you."
The sheen I'd come to see in her eyes when she was pleased about something sparkled back at me and I claimed my winner's kiss. She pulled me in close and our kiss deepened. It was full of passion, like all our kisses, yet there was something more. I felt Katie offering me something, and I latched onto it like a drowning man thrown a life vest, pressing it close to my heart.
"Baby?" I gasped between kisses.
"Hmm." She replied, unbuttoning my shirt, her lips working their way down my exposed skin. Her tongue flicked over my nipple and I jumped. Instead of asking her to choose between dinner and sex, I decided to turn the burner off. Good thing, too, because Katie was now working on my belt. A moment later my pants fell to the floor as she gripped my cock in her hand, squeezing.
"You were going to ask me something? "She murmured, tugging on my cock once more.
"Nope." I gulped. "No questions."
She grinned before dropping to her knees and licking the mushroom head. I groaned and swelled in her hands.
"Such a good boy. I win this round and claim my prize." She swallowed me down, running her tongue on underside, right along the sensitive tendon.
"CHRIST! Katie!"
"Want me to stop?" She looked up with a coy smile, knowing exactly what she was doing.
"No."
She took me into her mouth again, slowly this time, holding my gaze as she sucked, her tongue playing tic-tac-toe with my tip as she slid out, only to be consumed again. It was the best torture, and I leaned my head back, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes to focus on the feeling of Katie's lips around my cock.
Until it stopped and she squeezed my balls, 'hey, watch it!"
She chuckled. "Look here, mister. Nowhere else."
Damn, she was hot when she was demanding. She resumed, teasing my balls, lightly this time, adding her hand to squeeze from the base of my cock as she slid her mouth up to the tip and back.
She tried to speak, sounding like the Peanuts teacher, all garbled, but I got the gist. I also got hard; her words vibrating against my cock had me tightening up, and I squeezed my eyes shut as everything rushed south. Katie started clamping down on my balls again, and I forced my eyes open, landing on her. The minute I did, she increased her speed, bobbing her head, taking me further into her mouth each time until I was banging against her tonsils. My hands grabbed her hair and encouraged her, watching her face flush, her eye brightening as I went stiff.
"GOD! I'm coming, Katie." I tried to push her off me, but she held on as I shot down her throat, so much she couldn't swallow it all, the remainder spilling out of the corner of her mouth. She sat back and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, an immense grin on her face.
I fell to the floor and clasped her to me, devouring her, my taste still ion her tongue. "You're perfect, Katie."
"Naw." She grinned. "Can't be perfect. Leaves no room for improvement."
"I can't fault your logic. But you're pretty damn close to perfect for me."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ANTHONY
I wanted to say it. I felt it lodged in the back of my throat. I was in love with Katie. I knew back at the farm but wasn't ready to acknowledge it. It had only been a few weeks, but I couldn't imagine my life without this woman. I couldn't say that, though. With Katie's independent streak, I was counting my blessings that we'd come this far. Katie was honoring my request, just to be here, with me, in the moment. She let me in a little more every day, and I tried not to push myself on her, but I was so exhilarated when she asked questions, it was hard not to jump up and down in glee. If she stopped to think about it, we were so far down the relationship rabbit hole that it would be tough to climb out unscathed; but I thanked the stars she didn't seem concerned about that right now.
I knew it was coming. One break in the case and we could wrap it up in a few days. That was the détente. While the case was open, it was like real life was at a standstill and we lived in a fantasy bubble. If that bubble popped, I wasn't sure what real-world Katie would think about the rabbit hole. I hope she still liked it and wanted to stay. I dreaded the idea she wouldn't.
"You, okay? You went dark there for a second." Katie's palm
was on my cheek, and I leaned into the warmth.
"Yeah, I'm good, although hungry. You up for some food?"
We shifted off the floor and straightened our clothing before turning to see what we could salvage for dinner.
It was two days later when Katie asked if I would watch the Colby interview with her. We curled up on the sofa, Katie between my legs, her computer perched on her knees. I had my arms wrapped around her waist, my head resting on her shoulder. "Whenever you're ready."
She hit play and I saw Colby's upper body, just a little below his shoulders, an afternoon light streaming between the blinds behind him, offering a defused backdrop. Colby was looking around the room, at Katie, at the camera. Katie started by asking Colby to provide his full name, occupation, and acknowledge that he was giving the interview voluntarily and knowingly for Katie to use as she deemed appropriate.
He nodded and smirked before agreeing.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Colby?" Katie asked off-camera.
"No. No problem. I'm a lawyer. We just don't like agreeing to anything."
"Ah. I see, but as a lawyer, you know I have to protect myself. Can't have you coming back tomorrow telling me you don't want me to use the interview."
"I wouldn't do that." He was flirting with her now.
Katie flirted back, and I felt her tense. "If I trusted that, we wouldn't need lawyers, would we?"
"I suppose not. Lead on Ms. Corcoran. Ask away."
Katie cleared her throat and started her first question about the Education initiatives Senator Hart used in his platform at the last election. Colby smiled and looked right at the camera to answer, although his demeanor was more relaxed than when the camera had first turned on.
The interview progressed and Katie stopped the video a few times, explaining that she was adding markers, noting a good answer so she could later find those easily.
I commented that she was fantastic, getting Colby to relax while he looked into the camera. I didn't know if I could've done that.
"It's a trick we use," she said. "I adjust my chair, so my eyes are the same height as the center of the lens then I sit as close to the camera as I can get. I have to keep my hair in a ponytail so it doesn't crowd the lens. You turn the camera on as soon as you can and never touch it again. Once I sit down, I get Colby to look at me, let his guard down just a bit before asking the tough questions. He forgets the camera is there, yet it looks like he's looking right into the lens."
"Is that why you flirted with him? So he'd forget about the camera?"
"Yes."
I tightened my arms and whispered in her ear. "Good. I was getting jealous."
She giggled before hitting play again.
They talked about statistics and the lobbies in congress that were working together to direct more funding into Education and those whose agenda seemed at odds with education funding for public schools.
"Who would be against funding schools for our children?" Katie's voice asks off-camera.
Colby sat a little forward in his chair. "It's not that they are against our children; they don't believe in the public school system. These groups want more privatized schools, believe that parents should be given a choice where to send their children. The free market should apply to schools as it would to a grocery store or a restaurant. The consumer can choose which to go to based on what is important to them. Grocery stores offer different products, catering to what they believe their customers want. Restaurants specialize in a particular type of food and provide a limited menu that is sustainable and profitable for them.
"This works when you think about higher education, a trade school or university; the consumer is looking for specialized instruction. But it's not good at the primary and secondary levels. The universities and trade schools are for-profit, meaning their priority is the money. Yes, they need to keep their students happy, maintain high standards, so students continue to pay the tuition. But what if you can't maintain high standards in English subjects? The attendance drops. The for-profit schools can decide at any time to cut the English class. Just not offer it anymore.
"You want that option at the primary or secondary level? Creating a situation where parents have to shuffle their kids between schools, getting math at one location, English at another?"
"Education is the top priority in the public school system, not profit. The best teachers are drawn to public schools because of this fact. The public school system is not perfect. That's why we continuously work to fix those problems. Make our education system better.
"The public school system doesn't have private endowments leaving millions of dollars in the coffers like the private schools have. But they also aren't beholden to the top few donors to cow to their requests or push their kids to the top of the list, leaving the smart but less wealthy child behind.
"Ralph Lauren, Oprah Winfrey, Larry Ellison, Howard Schultz; all products of the public school system. They started with nothing but the desire to learn. If it was privatized, who knows what education their families could have afforded."
It was a compelling interview and Katie's questions directed Colby down a path I don't think he realized he was taking. I was excited to see how she used the content in her documentary. So far, she'd shown me little sections, but Colby's interview was a large part woven throughout, so she wanted to get that included before previewing it to anyone.
The interview drew to a close and even at the end Katie kept her attention on Colby, thanking him for the interview, pleased with his answers, touting his speaking skills. She offered him some wet wipes to remove the powder she'd used on his face and told him she'd check on his car. I knew what was coming.
"You can shut it off now."
Katie shook her head. "No. I think it's important I see it again."
We watched as Colby wiped his face then checked his phone, shooting off an email or text. Then another figure entered the frame, clad all in dark, nondescript clothing, complete with a baklava covering his face. He grabbed Colby from behind, jerking his chin up, exposing his left side as the figure inserted a tiny needle into the inner ear, squeezing the plunger on the syringe. Colby barely got a scream out before it was over.
Almost instantly, the figure let go of Colby, and Colby spun around. "Ow! What the fuck?" Colby screamed, rubbing his ear. The intruder stood just off-center of the frame. The frame now focused on Colby's back and the intruder's hands, which still held the syringe. We watched as he put the cap on the needle and tucked the syringe in his pocket. Colby noticed it too.
"What the fuck?" Colby said again and lunged at the intruder, who stepped back as Colby went down and started to convulse.
I heard Katie inhale in front of me.
"What?"
"His shoes." She said as she pointed.
The intruder had just exited camera, but Katie rolled it back and paused, pointing at the intruder's shoes. They were a heavy work boot dark brown, almost black, and scuffed. Well worn. I had a similar pair, wore them practically every day when I was in West Virginia.
"They are nice, probably cost a few hundred, but there's nothing special about them."
She shook her head again. "I saw these shoes in the lobby when I went down to check the car. I got off the elevator and started walking down the stairs. He was coming up. His jacket was in his left hand; I passed him on my left. I noticed the scratch on the right toe and thought the boots were out of place in the hotel."
"Are you sure?"
She turned around. "I have a photographic memory. I know what I saw, I just never looked at his face." Her face fell. "I never looked at his face."
"Don't worry about it. You have another chance." I hugged her and grinned.
She looked confused.
"We have the lobby footage from the hotel. We scanned it looking for anything out of place but didn't zero in on this guy. You can help me pick him out. He probably hid his face from the lobby cameras, knowing where they'd be, but he might have missed something on the street. No
w that we know what to look for, we can nail him!"
I kissed her quickly and jostled us both off the sofa. I was pacing in the living room. We had to be smart about this.
"Can we get a look at the footage from your computer?" Katie asked.
I snapped my fingers. "Yes! Great idea. There's no reason why I shouldn't look at it, and it's late, I'm home, supposedly with no life," I sarcastically included, which garnered a laugh from Katie, "so why wouldn't I look through the file?"
We queued up the footage and found the time Katie said she went downstairs. Scrolling forward, we saw her get off the elevator and approach the steps.
Katie excitedly jumped and pointed at the screen. "That's him!"
His back was to the camera we were watching, but the hotel had three cameras in the lobby and one in each elevator. The elevator camera showed him exiting the floor above where Katie held her interview, but we didn't get a face.
Rolling backward in time on the other cameras, we didn't get a usable shot on those either. We spotted the murderer exiting the stairway, got hopeful when he stopped to buy a bottle of water from the convenience stand, but he paid in cash then nonchalantly exited the hotel through the front door. But we had a time stamp and luckily the hotel was in the middle of the block so he had to go left or right. I just hoped we'd get lucky and have cameras in both directions. Something had to catch this guy.
I made a note of the time and sat back. "Nothing more we can do until the morning."
Katie sighed. "Damn. Such a letdown."
"It's not over, baby. You're now my partner."
She raised an eyebrow at me, grinning.
"I can't take this to the FBI and make our usual search pattern with the whole team. This is a solid lead on the killer. If there's a mole, be sure he'll shout this from the rooftops. So I have to do all the legwork myself, which leaves you to scour the footage and find our man."
