Brittany's Travels Ch. 06

In that moment, Brittany desperately wanted to steal away and find some way to make contact with Angie and Joseph. But better to not let on that she knew she'd been made, and now she was too curious to play it safe anyway.

In the lodge, Brittany made a point of staking out a seat in the corner so she could see all that went on. There was no sign of Penny or Marcus, or of anyone who seemed to be tailing her; but she ate her tomato soup and roast beef sandwich as quickly as she could anyway. Halfway through, it occurred to her to look for a pay phone so she could possibly make contact with Angie. But there wasn't one in sight, and now it occurred to Brittany that she didn't know Angie's number by heart anyway. First order of business back in her room, then, was to memorize it and figure out how she might call it from a phone that hadn't been tampered with. But to avoid any suspicion, after finishing her lunch she headed straight back out to the slopes.

Safe with her goggles on again, Brittany kept her eyes peeled for Marcus or Penny or her father, but they were nowhere to be seen. Brittany concluded she was thus probably safest out on the slopes, and she remained there until nearly four o'clock.

Back in her room, Brittany got her phone out of the safe and memorized Angie's number. She also thought of googling Morse code and calling Angie to tap out a message to her with the keys, but she found her Internet connection was disabled as well. A few efforts to connect to other people's WiFi got her nowhere, and at last she had to content herself with at least knowing the number for when she could call Angie. With that accomplished, she took a long, hot bath, and called room service for dinner. On discovering she was able to get through to the desk, she tried calling Angie from the room phone, only to find she couldn't get an outside line. Frustrated but not surprised, she ate her coq au vin in her bathrobe and bided her time until a reasonable hour to dress up and rendezvous with Marcus.

Another slinky dark dress, another entrance with flair in the swanky bar, and with her heart in her throat, Brittany settled herself at the table where she'd seen Penny and Marcus the night before. Neither of them were in sight when she ordered a glass of champagne, but she feigned confidence and gazed at the door as she sipped.

Sure enough, he appeared before Brittany was halfway through her drink. "Ever so sorry I'm late!" he declared as he approached her and helped himself to a kiss on her cheek - Brittany certainly couldn't fault him for any mixed messages. "My wife got a very unwelcome visit today," he explained as he sat down across the little table from her. "She was really upset, and almost cancelled her spa appointment.

"Wouldn't that be all the more reason to keep it, if she needed to relax?" Brittany leaned forward conspiratorially, knowing he would likely look down her dress but almost welcoming that.

"That's what I finally convinced her. But you've got to understand, Erika, it was really a pretty traumatic day for her. She's out on the slopes this morning and you know who turns up? Her father!"

"Is that a bad thing?" Brittany forced herself to look surprised.

"Well, here's the thing," Marcus said. "She hasn't seen him since she was a kid, since about the fifth grade I think. Now here we are halfway around the world from home and he turns up here? What are the chances, huh?"

"Oh, that's just evil," Brittany said. "I hope she gave him a nice lecture about deserting his family."

"She did, but he didn't seem to care. He didn't even apologize or anything. You know what he did do?"

Brittany smiled and shrugged.

"Well, you wouldn't know unless you know my wife's family story, which is pretty crazy. She's the white sheep of a family of jerks, really, like her father. Anyway, she's got this sister who once had a chance at being a pro soccer player - I mean, she could have ended up on the national team, even - and she had to go and get mixed up with drugs! She got caught smuggling a big duffel bag full of crystal meth or something."

It was a suitcase full of cocaine, you dipshit. But Brittany smiled through her rage and was glad Marcus had no way of knowing how she was curling her toes to let off the simmering rage she felt. "That's...an awful shame," she said as politely as she could. "I wonder what the poor girl was thinking. But are you sure she was guilty?"

"Penny says yes, there's no doubt she did it. She thinks it's because she was jealous of Penny, who was always the responsible one, the one who got out of the 'hood. But I can't imagine why she'd do that when she already was out, too. Anyway, her father turns up today, and he asks Penny if she's seen her sister! Brittany is her name, by the way. Pretty name for a drug pusher, huh?"

"How ironic." Brittany barely managed to smile through her fury.

"So Penny says of course I haven't seen her, she's in prison, and her father says there's a rumor that she's escaped and someone told him she might be here. Of all the gin joints, huh?"

"That's bizarre. I wonder how he heard she might be here of all places. Wouldn't she rather be playing soccer?"

Marcus laughed. "I'd imagine so. In any case, the jerk said he hadn't seen any sign of her yet, but gee, what a small world that his other daughter turned up here, huh?"

"Almost sounds like someone designed the whole thing," Brittany said. "Maybe they arranged for Penny to win the sweepstakes so she'd come here and smoke this Brittany gal out?"

For a horrible second, Brittany was certain that she'd gone too far. But then, to her relief, Marcus roared with laughter. "You ought to go to Hollywood with that imagination, Erika!"

"Thanks!" she said. "Maybe I will try that one of these days. But it does seem all too perfect that your wife and her father ended up here when her sister was also supposed to be around, isn't it?"

"Truth is stranger than fiction," Marcus said. "It's a cliché for a reason, isn't it?"

"Would her father even recognize Brittany after all this time, if he hasn't seen her since she was eight years old?"

"How do you know how old she was?" Marcus asked.

"You said, I think." Brittany felt herself break out in a cold sweat - he had said so, hadn't he? "You said Penny was in the fifth grade, I think, and I guess you must have mentioned Brittany was two years younger."

"I don't think I did," Marcus said. "I actually don't know how old Brittany is. Penny never talks about her. The whole family is really ashamed of the way she botched up her wonderful life, you know? But yeah, I guess she probably was a few years younger than Penny. Still, if he recognized Penny, surely he'd recognize Brittany."

"I'll be sure to keep an eye out for her," Brittany quipped, feeling immensely relieved. "What's she look like?"

"The very opposite of you, apparently," Marcus said. "Penny told me all about her. Short hair, really masculine style, the type you'd swear was a lesbian. Of course, now that she's in prison, maybe she really is learning to be one. Her father did say something about her having some sort of makeover so she did look all elegant and ladylike, more like you. But Penny doesn't believe that for a minute, and her father told her, hey, just between you and me, I don't buy it either."

"What a relief that I haven't seen anyone like that," Brittany said. "But I'll keep an eye out."

"Maybe you could teach her a thing or two about style, while you're at it," Marcus said, eyeing her up and down as the conversation passed into matters more pleasant. "You are looking absolutely stunning tonight, my dear!"

"Well, thank you!" Brittany put one hand on her hip and flashed her most flirtatious grin. "But should you be talking to me like that in your wife's hour of need?"

"My wife is currently being pampered by beautiful women," Marcus said. "Why should I settle for any less?"

Brittany considered holding out for one more glass of champagne before taking him upstairs with her, but she decided she'd best be as alert as possible. Besides, more than ever, she wanted to remember the time she'd hit her faithless sister where it hurt the most, and Marcus was looking fabulous in his turtleneck and blazer.

"You'll understand why I don't want to bring you back to my room," he said, nuzzling her neck in the elevator.

"Completely," Brittany cooed, reaching back to run her fingers through his hair, which she was disappointed to find was still with gel - but at least it looked fantastic.

"If she comes back, I can explain away my absence but not your presence."

"And there's no one for me to have to explain anything to." Brittany still wasn't at all sure of that, but she was still optimistic that pretending to suspect nothing was a winning strategy. On that note, she wondered, not out of embarrassment but of strategic thinking, was she in fact being watched? Not by her father, if he'd failed to recognize her as Marcus had said.

That realization had her in a lighter frame of mind than she'd felt all day as she welcomed Marcus into her room with a chorus of nervous giggles, and soon found herself pinned to her bed under him.

"You do this often when she's at sea, Marcus?" Brittany teased as she reached between them to undo his belt buckle.

"Wouldn't you like to know!" Marcus replied. "Now, less talk, more fun!" And he clamped his mouth hard on hers as he thrust his hips up to let her unbuckle him, and also took the opportunity to reach under her skirt.

So he's that kind of lover, Brittany thought as she feigned welcoming his hand yanking her panties out of the way. Serves Penny right. As they wrestled wordlessly across the bed, now her on top and stroking his balls, now him on top and feasting on her breasts, gradually all their clothes ending up on the floor, another cause for concern crossed Brittany's mind. He hadn't noticed the resemblance to Penny with her clothes on, but without them? Not all pussies are created equal, even between sisters, she told herself, and hoped it was true.

Evidently it was, for even as Marcus teased Brittany's bush and tickled her vulva (and she had to admit he was pretty good at it), he showed no sign of surprise. Once the panic had passed, the very thought that she had ever even worried about being too much like her very different sister in bed made Brittany laugh out loud, which caused Marcus to break his silence. "What?" he demanded.

"That tickles!" Brittany said, and at least it was true.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it!"

"Glad some women do."

Then she definitely didn't bear any resemblance to Penny between the sheets, Brittany realized, and on that note she let herself go. She rubbed his wrist encouragingly and invited him to finger fuck her to his heart's content. And he did, first with one finger, then two, gazing on at her in wonder as she hooted and squirmed and laughed and came hard.

She wanted him now, but she had him pegged as a tease, and opted not to tell him as much. Instead, when he knelt over her as if to tease some more, she grabbed hard on his cock and pulled him down. "I'll take that, thanks!"

"Have at!" And she did.

She threw all caution to the wind about waking up the neighbors, and tossed out every dirty word she could think of as Marcus humped her passionately. He was good, she had to admit as he brought her off for her second orgasm without even slowing down, better than that bitch Penny deserved. She was almost sorry it could never happen again, but that just made her resolve to enjoy it all the more as she coaxed him to another orgasm for her and then egged him onto a big one for himself. "Do it for me!" she said breathlessly, slapping his firm behind to encourage him.

He did, with a loud yelp of his own.

"I don't think I've ever heard a man make that much noise before," Brittany said as he lay still atop her and inside her. "I liked it!"

"I don't usually make that much noise," he said. "My wife...well, she's not you."

"Her loss."

"You do know I can't do this again, Erika?"

"Of course I know."

"I probably shouldn't even spend the night."

"You definitely shouldn't, Marcus. But you're welcome to shower here."

"That wouldn't be insensitive?"

"I wouldn't have offered if it were, would I?"

He crawled off her and off the bed, and turned on the bedside lamp. "You have a really nice body, Erika," he said.

"Thank you, and you too. But your wife needs you."

"I guess you're right." He turned and headed for the bathroom. "I do hope her father at least finds her sister. That bitch ought to know the strife she's caused."

"With a father who hasn't even been there since she was a kid?"

"Yeah, I guess."

As the sun went down on another day with no word from Brittany, Angie wasn't sure whether to hug or smack the staffer who arrived at her office door with a field report. "Here's the latest on Lou Kyriazis, ma'am," the young man said.

"Thank you," she said, forcing a smile. Before looking to see how bad the bad news was, she said, "Could you go get Joseph, please?"

"Sure, ma'am." Angie had no doubt he was relieved to go anywhere else at that moment. She could hardly blame him, she admitted as she opened the classified envelope. "Son of a bitch," she murmured as she read the report.

She was still standing rooted the floor, staring at the report as if willing its contents to change, when Joseph arrived. "What's the word?" he asked.

"Lou was seen getting off a plane in Zurich, with an unknown accomplice," Angie said. "They got on a bus that stops at the resort Brittany is at, but no one is sure where they got off."

"How in hell could they miss seeing him get off the bus?" Joseph snapped.

"You ever tried to stay out of sight while following a dangerous man, Joe?"

"Point taken," Joseph said. "But...well, we know she didn't blow the place up this time."

"But what the hell is going on?"

"She knows how to handle herself, Angie. We'd have heard otherwise."

"For now, anyway."

"Yeah."

Brittany felt equal parts empty and victorious as Marcus let himself out and she was once again safe and alone. This beat prison, she reminded herself for what felt like the millionth time as she got up to take her turn in the shower. While there, she got an idea for her next move, but forced herself not to take any action on it until the morning. Acting now would only arouse suspicion.

She did sleep better that night, but still woke up long before the sun was up. Figuring any spies were probably asleep too, she got out of bed before five o'clock and got her secure computer and phone out of the safe. She put them in her backpack along with a change of clothes, and zipped it up. Last but not least, she pulled out the emergency stash of Swiss francs Angie had given her on the day she left - 6,000 francs if she recalled correctly - and carried them back to her bed. With the money still clutched discreetly in her hand, she got back under the covers and rolled up the notes as tightly as she could, and slipped them into her vagina.

It itched a bit, but a glance in the mirror when she got out of bed again persuaded her that the subterfuge was effective. That was one benefit of a hairy pussy, she mused. A little extra coverage!

Once again dressed in a sweater and jeans, Brittany this time brought her hat and gloves with her downstairs as well as the backpack, so she could hit the slopes immediately afterward. Doing her best to get comfortable with her intimate contraband, she enjoyed another leisurely breakfast and was relieved not to see Marcus or Penny or her father anywhere.

She hadn't decided yet how long she would spend on the slopes before making her escape, but most of the morning seemed a suitably unsuspicious waiting period. The heavy backpack made things a bit awkward, but she quickly got used to it and shrugged off questions from others about it by pretending not to speak English.

From the vantage point of the ski lift, Brittany looked for the best way to slip off the grounds and make her way into town and an un-sabotaged phone. Quickly she identified the clump of pines near the top of Trail C as the weakest link, thick enough to disappear into and thin enough to make her way out of quickly once she'd changed into the street boots she'd crammed into the backpack.

Having settled on that, she resolved to enjoy a few last runs down the slopes. After all, that was still what she was here for, and who knew when she'd get the chance again? The sky was cluttered with dark clouds and there were flurries falling, but that only added to her thirst for some winter frolics.

The first time down Trail A was uneventful. On the second, just as she kicked off down the hill, she was aware of a figure over her shoulder, who appeared to be trying to stay just out of her line of sight. Brittany knew the drill. She steered sideways and came to a stop at the edge of the trail, as if to admire the scenery (which, she now noticed, was indeed beautiful from that spot). Just as she had expected, her shadow whooshed past her without making eye contact or showing any other sign of interest in her. A man (she thought) in a red parka and black cap, definitely not either of the teenagers who'd been on the carriage behind her on the lift. Maybe just a guy on vacation like she officially was. Or maybe not.

One more round, Brittany decided as she started again, to avoid suspicion. No sense in risking any more than that.

On the lift this time, she didn't dare look behind her. When she reached the top, she turned left and pushed her way down to Trail E, which was served by another lift. This gave her the chance to look discreetly to see if she was being followed; it wasn't all that unusual to change one's mind on the way up the slopes, after all. If there was anyone following her, she wasn't able to spot them. So she was as calm and collected as she could hope to be as she pushed off down Trail E.

Feeling a little paranoid about breaking her leg on the very last run (although it made her laugh to think of what they'd think at the hospital if they found her money), Brittany took it slow in wide slaloms. She preferred it that way anyway, enjoying a last look at the scenery as she steered her way down the hill. She was, of course, still on her guard, and so she heard it long before she saw it: a man bombing down the hill and yelling in a panic. "What the hell? I didn't know!" He roared past Brittany, off balance and clearly in big trouble, and before she had any chance to wonder what it was he didn't know, he hit a bump and went flying into the bare bushes on the edge of the track.

Brittany heard a horrible snapping sound, and had no doubt the man had broken something. All protocol vanishing from her mind, she rushed down to the spot where he'd fallen and snapped off her skis to help the man. She also took off her goggles. "Sir, can you hear me?"

"Get away from me!" he wailed. "This is your fault!"

"Marcus?!" How could she have failed to recognize him?! The answer came quickly enough: because she'd never seen him wearing anything but the dressy clothes he'd worn to the bar, and he'd rushed past her far too quickly for her to see his face on the way by. But she now saw it was indeed him.

"She knows!" he wailed, clutching his leg. "Get lost!"

Brittany had to admit that was good advice. But it was a little too late, for she looked up to see a woman whooshing to a stop on the other side of the trail. She paused to let other skiers go by before crossing, and although a few others had stopped to help Marcus, her eyes landed on Brittany.

Penny! Brittany wasn't sure if she'd mouthed the name or even said it out loud, but it was definitely her sister and she was quite sure she recognized her as well. Instinctively she pulled her googles back on, too late or not, and hurried back to her skis.