A Slow Dance

"What's that?" Tom asked.

"Security tapes from the rail yard. They tape over every seven days," she said.

"Sorry, but I don't follow," Tom said.

"Because they're using this antiquated system, the images are not erased. The impressions are still there underneath. The lab techs say they can recover the night we want."

Tom smiled and looked into the box, "Good work agent, but how many tapes you got there?"

"Twenty-seven cartridges with twelve hours of time-lapsed compressed tape on each," Sheila said.

"Well, good luck to you and the lab techs. I, on the other hand, have a hot date," he said giving a laugh.

In fact, he was seeing Connie again. It was getting serious, and he was half elated and half scared. He arrived at Connie's with the local paper and the intent that they pick a movie to see together. He was greeted at the door by Connie dressed in heels, stockings, and nothing else.

"I thought we might take in a film," he stammered.

"Sorry babe, I need my man, and I need him now," she said dragging him off to the bedroom.

Connie pulled Mac into her bedroom and began to undress him. When he started to help her, she slapped his hands away.

"This is my job," she said.

As she removed each garment, she kissed the skin she exposed until she was on her knees pulling down his boxers. His erection sprang forth hard and eager. She took it in her hand and brought her tongue to lick the mushroom shaped head.

"Mmm, you taste good," she purred as her eyes found his.

The look Connie gave him was pure lust. Her eyes were telling him how much she wanted him. With one swift movement of her head, she enveloped him with her soft mouth. He groaned in response.

Pulling back, she said," No, no, not so fast. I want to play."

She pushed him back to lay across her bed, his legs dangling to the floor. On her knees, she worshiped his erection. She was ever so slow, and she made him last. When she finally took him beyond the edge, he shot for what seemed forever into her hot waiting mouth. She greedily swallowed every drop and sucked his cock dry.

Connie climbed up him like a pole.

"My turn," she said, settling her freshly shaved pussy over his mouth.

He began to tongue her slit, thinking "God she was wet!"

She trapped his head between her legs and pressed herself into his mouth. Her taste overpowered him. Her smell was perfume and sex. For the first time in his life, he felt completely overwhelmed by a woman. She fucked his mouth to her own violent and noisy orgasm.

Mac was hard again as she slipped to his side on the bed. She wrapped her hand around his cock and broke into a broad smile.

"We need to take care of his. The lube is on the night stand. You will be taking my ass. Because from now on it belongs to you," she said

Afterward, they lay together totally spent.

"Ok, what was that about?" he asked.

Connie frowned and didn't answer for a bit. But he waited like a good interrogator for her to answer.

"I'm a slut. I like sex. I'm not going to hide that fact from you. I love it when we make sweet love together, but I need more than that," she said.

"So, this was about showing me your other side," he said.

"That and to let you know that while I am a slut, I'm a one-man slut. I don't fool around with anyone but my own man," she said as she turned her body to look him right in the eyes.

"I guess this is where I need to make my intentions clear," he said.

"That's about it partner," she said.

He was still hesitant, but he knew he wasn't going to give this woman up.

He pulled her in and gave her a commanding kiss, "I want what you got lady and if that means we are exclusive just tell me where I sign.

"Well first, we have to load your pencil with lead," she said as she began to fondle his manhood.

She gave a sweet little laugh, and he had to laugh with her.

___________________________________________________

Mac found a tired Sheila Marks in the office.

"You sure don't look like you had a good weekend," he said.

"Yea, try viewing twenty-seven security tapes sometime and then see how you look," she replied.

Mac laughed, "I have no sympathy. You brought it on yourself."

In response, Sheila only grumbled.

"Well?" he asked.

"Well, what! He's on the tapes. Considering that bunch of deadbeats he supervises, if he weren't there nothing would get done. If those railroad guards walked any slower, they would be moving backwards."

Mac suppressed a smile, "So I guess the husband didn't do it."

Sheila grunted in reply, "Coulda paid someone."

"Which undermines the premise that the Judge knew his attacker. Which is why we were looking at the husband in the first place."

"So it's a robbery gone bad. I find that hard to believe," she said.

Mac didn't reply. They had only the one lead from the sale of the jewelry. It didn't feel right, but you went where the evidence took you.

______________________________________________________________

Agent Marks jumped from the car in front of the Eldorado Hotel, an SRO on the poor side of town. Agent MacPierson was slower. There was no rush after all.

Connie was waiting by the hotel elevator as Sheila shot up the stairs.

"Seriously Mac, what's driving your partner," Connie asked.

"Oh, I guess the usual," he said shrugging his shoulders.

Sheila had seemed almost despondent since she reviewed the tapes from the rail yard. It was as if packing them up for a return to the Railroad was a personal failure on her part.

"You think she's gay?"

"Maybe, but if she is, she doesn't play where she works. But, frankly, I have no idea. Never saw her give any man or woman a second glance. "

"Bit unnatural, don't you think."

"It takes all kinds, and yet she has no tolerance for a woman like Mrs. Ford," he said.

"Well, don't discount jealousy. When you are a woman who looks like Sheila Marks, it's hard to sympathize with a beauty like Kate Ford. Watching women like Mrs. Ford juggling men is hard on any woman," Connie said.

"And yet, a certain one-man woman I know seems to have a soft spot for that promiscuous lady."

"I have good reasons. Firstly, I'm older, and secondly, I'm a career woman, and I know just how easy it is to get trapped into a bad situation in the workplace."

"Oh, that sounds like experience talking."

"You bet, most women no matter their looks have suffered the unwanted attentions of a man in a superior position. In Morgan's case, she was the target of a very powerful man at a very vulnerable time in her professional life. Once he had her, she probably saw no way out."

They continued talking as they ascended the stairs, thereby avoiding the bad smell and the risk of the elevator.

"I feel sorry for Sheila. She seems to be the loner type," Connie said.

"Well, not many friends. A few army buddies, I have heard. Allegedly, she listens to music with someone, but no one she talks about. She keeps to herself," Mac said.

The room they eventually entered smelled of death. The coroner was bagging the corpse. Sheila was watching them remove the body, her face as blank as always. The forensic team was doing its job, but the reason Connie had called was laying on a small table which had obviously been used for the dual purposes of eating and preparing drugs.

Two evidence bags, one contained a Walter 38 automatic and the other a gold Rolex watch. Mac lifted the bag with the watch. He could just make out the inscription inside.

Love Kate and Annabelle your ladies

"Any idea of the cause of death?" Mac asked Connie.

"Yea, it looks like natural causes. He's an Afghanistan Vet, private Salvatore Marsh, came back with a pretty bad drug problem. Somewhere he contracted HIV. He's been in and out of the hospital last few months. Was supposed to be in hospice now, but he checked himself out. I guess he was self-medicating. We figure either disease or the drugs got him," Connie said.

"You going to close it?" Mac asked.

"Don't see the point in not. He fits the evidence. Don't know why he choose to rob the judge, but he had the gun and the stolen goods. With him dead, if someone else was in on it, we will never know."

"So the bitch gets away free," Sheila said. Neither had seen her come behind them.

"Put a lid on it," Mac said as he turned to Sheila Marks.

"I think there has been enough pain here," Connie said, "time we let people move on."

Sheila only shrugged. Mac felt that she was somehow sadder today. Whatever the woman carried around inside her was more pressing than usual.

______________________________________________________

Mario's was relatively crowded for a Tuesday night, but then it was ladies' night. Ben Walker had started playing love songs. The slow music had most of the patrons out on the dance floor. The tall woman with the short dark hair at the far corner of the bar was an exception. If you got close enough, you could see the tears in the corners of her eyes.

"I hope they're not for me Sheila," I said as I eased in next to her at the bar.

She turned away as she said, "No."

I didn't press the question but waited for her like a good friend would.

"I'm not crying. . .just thinking about Sal. I thought he got clean," she said.

"He did, just not soon enough," I said.

"Well, I guess you're safe now," she said.

"Tapes worked?"

"Like a charm. No one even looked. I guess some people can beat the system."

"Oh, the system will win out in the end, but not this time."

The Bartender brought the drinks I had ordered, and I handed Sheila hers.

"Come on," I said. "Drink up to Salvatore Marsh, who crippled three officers and killed one judge. Not bad for a man whose hands shook too much to hold a gun."

She gave a wan smile but clinked my glass, and took a sip of her vodka martini.

"To a good comrade," she said.

And then as if it was an afterthought, "You won't hurt her."

I didn't have to ask who. "She's Annabelle's mother. Besides, she's earning a fortune. I think I'm a bit entitled."

That last brought the first real smile.

"You know when you're not around I miss you," she said turning toward me and blinking away her tears. "I could even love you if things were different."

"What, you mean you don't?" I said pulling her to me.

"You know what I mean," she said with her shy little laugh.

"Seriously, As I've said so many times. Love isn't the physical act. It's all the things we do for each other," I said, clinking her glass and downing my first martini of the evening.

We would drink until Ben was played out then I would see her home and pour her into bed. A bed she had not shared with any man since the gang rape. In some ways, she was the strongest woman I knew. Capable of putting a full clip from an M4 Carbine into the legs of the men who hurt her. Put all three in wheelchairs for life, she did.

"So they'll never do it again," she had said.

But when you knew her well, you understood she was a hurt little girl underneath.

She was my little girl, my friend, and my comrade. We would be together always. There would be no sex, but after all, I had my own private whore for that.

I ordered two fresh drinks, and when they came, I raised my glass to, "Us," I said, "Army Strong."

"Army Strong," she replied.

"Care to dance?" I asked.

When she nodded, I lead my lady to the dance floor.

(c) 2016