Blindsided

"Ahhhh," she sighed. My hand went instinctively to my sex as I lapped at the wrinkled brown skin. The only question was who was going to cum first.

* * *

I finished up with Courtney and still had an extra ten minutes. I figured I'd be able to squeeze in a visit to Happy Donut after all. It was the daily double. I parked in the "No Parking" zone in front of my favorite shop. No cop in the West End was going to give my green Honda Civic a ticket. They all knew it was my car. You can't be a beat officer for five years without earning some measure of respect. I pushed open the door and looked in the glass display case. All the chocolate old fashioneds were gone.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath.

"I heard that," said Bea, wagging her finger at me. "You know no swearing in this store," she said, scolding me like a small child. She would never forget the time I roughed up a few teenagers that were terrorizing her store. They never bothered her again. She'd give me a scolding, but excuse my verbal transgression.

"I almost not give you this," she said, placing a white wax paper bag on top of the glass showcase. "One for you and one for your too young girlfriend. I told you she no good for you."

I could see through the translucent paper that it held two chocolate old fashioned donuts that she saved for me. See, I told you she loved me.

I decided to come clean.

"I love you Bea."

"You take your donut to your girlfriend."

I left a ten spot on top of the register.

Chapter Two

The Kraken

It was a short drive to the station. I ate my donut on the way there, washing it down with hot coffee and enjoying the glow of great sex.

The locker room was buzzing when I walked in holding a bag with Courtney's donut in it. I handed the bag to Lesley since I wasn't going back to the Royal Palms. My partner was sitting on a bench seat in front of her locker, looking stunned. Instead of opening the bag, she put it down and gave me a blank stare.

"What?" I asked her, anxiety replacing my feel good mood.

"You didn't hear?" she asked me.

"Hear what?"

"DaVanna's out."

"Out of what?" I asked, not quite believing.

"Out of prison."

That couldn't be true.

"Uh huh, she'll be released tomorrow," said Lesley, to my astonishment.

"But she's done less than year," I argued, as if that would do anything.

"It was something about compromised evidence at the trial, from what I heard."

"Where'd you hear this?"

"Everyone's talking about it. I can't believe you didn't hear. The news broke three hours ago."

I didn't have the heart or the nerve to tell my partner that I'd been fucking Courtney for that entire three hours.

I went to my office and typed the password into my computer. I did an internet search for DaVanna and ten stories popped up. I read the first one in the Enquirer by my man Scotty Winship. The headline read: "Former Prosecuting Attorney to be Released from Jail."

The story told me that the main piece of evidence, the traffic cam footage, was tampered with. Without the footage, we couldn't prove that Maureen McCormick was behind the wheel of her car when it hit a pedestrian, and we'd be missing the key evidence needed to show that DaVanna stole the data and blackmailed Maureen with it.

A complete fucking disaster. First Lesley and now this.

Mother of God. The Kraken had been released.

* * *

DaVanna.

My nemesis.

Her qualities were everything I abhorred in a human being. She was vain, narcissistic, amoral, power hungry and vindictive. People were disposables items for her, to be used for her purposes and discarded without a second thought. Principal among them was her younger sister, Alessandra. Although they both came from a life of privilege, Alessandra rejected the socialite status and materialism of her parents and older sister and fell into a rough crowd at an early age. Her rebelliousness caused her to end up on the wrong end of the law more than once, and it was DaVanna, then an assistant prosecutor with Hamilton County, who was called on to bail her out.

DaVanna's efforts on behalf of her sister were not done out of sisterly love or a sense of familial obligation, but rather to gain leverage over her for future dirty work to advance the ambitious attorney's career. The debt was supposedly paid when DaVanna enlisted Alessandra to steal laptops from a prominent Cincinnati law firm. Although several were taken, there was one, belonging to Sondra Karlsson, that was the real object of the theft.

Sondra, a tall, cool, sophisticated Scandinavian blonde, represented Maureen McDowell, the Hamilton County Prosecutor and DaVanna's boss. Maureen had come into possession of a copy of a traffic cam video showing that she, and not her husband, was behind the wheel in an unsolved fatal hit and run. DaVanna used the video to blackmail Maureen, causing Maureen to unexpectedly take early retirement, and allowing DaVanna to assume the top spot in that office.

I was lucky enough to recover a back-up copy of the traffic cam footage and used it to help the FBI make a case against DaVanna. It was unfortunate that the footage was compromised and that DaVanna was now free.

I was assuming that DaVanna's first order of business would be to extract revenge on me, an assumption that was ultimately not proven wrong. She had almost a year in prison to hone her scheme to fuck me over, and given her intellect, I dreaded what was in store for me.

* * *

That night I didn't even try to come up with a reason not to drink. I drove directly from the station to the local liquor store, hoping to find my friend Nigel manning the counter. He was a tall, toothsome Brit, with a crooked smile and an engaging demeanor. He was now in his second year in the United States, transferring to the University of Cincinnati after a stint at the London School of Economics. He came here in pursuit of a woman, but it was unclear whether that relationship was going to work out.

It was dinner time, and I walked into an empty store. Nigel was there, picking at the remnants of his takeout container when I saw him. His eyes lit up when he saw it was me.

"Max, old friend. It's been a while," he said, sporting a big grin.

"I was trying to avoid you, or I should say the bottle, but today's a special occasion," I told him.

"A special occasion? What is it?" he asked me.

"My funeral," I said.

"Qué?" he asked, with a puzzled look on his face.

"My funeral. You know . . . when I die," I explained.

"You know Max, that doesn't make sense. You're here, in flesh and blood."

"Not for long amigo. An old enemy of mine just got out of prison."

"Who's that?"

"DaVanna Caruso. You've probably never heard of her."

His ears perked up at hearing the name. "But of course I have. She's been all over the news. I just saw a press conference where she said something about tainted evidence and a vendetta against her. Was it you that had the vendetta?"

"Something like that. She deserves to be behind bars," I said.

"She's quite attractive," he noted for me, as if I didn't know.

"Quite."

"In fact, at first I thought she was a movie star."

"People often made that mistake."

"Do you think you could introduce her to me before she kills you?" he asked.

"Fuck you Nigel." I guess it wasn't working out with his girlfriend.

He laughed. "Apparently she wants to fuck you."

"That's why I'm here."

"To drink," he said.

"Precisely. Now what's on special?" I asked. He knew my proclivity for cheap vodka. Preferably on sale.

He scanned the back wall. He pulled down a 375 ml bottle and handed it to me.

"Petrov - Bubblegum Flavored Vodka," I read off the red and white label. "How much is it?"

"$1.99. It's on clearance."

"No one's buying this?"

"It's been on the shelf since I started here, and that was over a year ago. The boss told me to get rid of it."

"Have you tried it?" I asked.

"It's vile. Just smelling it makes me want to get sick," he said.

I read the label. 80 proof. That's the only number that mattered to me, along with the price.

"How many bottles have you got left?"

He looked at the shelf. "I've got two more bottles up there and I think nine more in the back."

"I'll take all of them," I said.

"Heavy night?"

"I don't care if I wake up tomorrow," I confessed.

"It can't be all that bad," he said.

"It will be after I drink this shit."

"Well said Max. Let me get you the rest of the bottles."

He whistled as he made his way to the back room.

* * *

DaVanna. I visualized her as I finished my first bottle of bubblegum flavored vodka. You know, after the tenth shot it didn't smell so bad. But I could have been drinking fish fertilizer and I wouldn't have noticed the smell.

I once lusted after DaVanna. It was the first time I met her in her office. She was wearing a low cut dress that showed me everything that she had. And it was considerable. Big luscious tits, a narrow waist and long, lean legs ending in four inch stiletto heels. Her father was Italian and her mother was African-American, which made for a pleasing mocha complexion. If she wasn't the devil I would have gladly fucked her.

Then I thought about her sister Alessandra and my blood pressure rose. Alessandra was everything that DaVanna was not. Naturally beautiful (I was convinced DaVanna was surgically enhanced. No one could have a God given body like she had). Compassionate. Funny. And a hell of a chef. I told her of the open chef position at Nicky's, and I introduced her to my partner Lesley. DaVanna tried to ruin Alessandra to further her political career. Fortunately there was insufficient evidence to make the burglary charges against Alessandra stick. Maybe (or certainly) DaVanna had something to do with that. In any event, one of the reasons I so wanted to nail DaVanna to the wall was because of what she did to her sister.

DaVanna had promised she'd exact her revenge on me, and now that she was out of jail the prospect was real. I usually didn't worry about that type of thing . . . I've been threatened many times before . . . but not by someone with limitless ambition and guile, who didn't have the guidance of a moral compass, not to mention that she'd use her killer good looks as a weapon to achieve her goals.

I had a restless night of sleep, and the two bottles of vodka I'd consumed barely doused the queasy feeling I had that something truly awful was about to befall me. This time I had really stepped in it. After all, it was my dogged determination that led to her arrest and conviction. Even though I was never publicly acknowledged during her arrest, and didn't testify at her trial, she knew my true role.

I woke up well past ten with a nasty hangover. I flicked on the television, mostly as background noise as I got ready for my noon shift. Something on the television got my attention. A replay of a press conference held by DaVanna in front of the apartment building her family owned, where she occupied the 3,500 square foot penthouse suite. I stopped brushing my teeth, and with toothpaste still in my mouth, I watched and listened.

". . . and I'd like to thank my friends and supporters for believing in me while I overturned this unjust and illegal conviction. And to my detractors, those who perpetuated this fraud, I will make it my goal to punish those who so recklessly moved forward with tainted evidence."

The camera cut away to the talking heads.

I went back to the bathroom and spit. Fuck. DaVanna was out.

* * *

Lesley was fussing in the breakroom with the coffee maker when I came in. The water in the coffee pot was brownish but almost clear.

"I think you forgot to put the ground coffee in it," I told her as she examined the contents of the pot.

"Duh," she answered, chiding herself for leaving the full coffee filter on the counter. "I'm a bit out of it this morning."

"DaVanna?" I asked her.

"Uh huh."

"Lesley, she doesn't want you. She wants me."

"I know that Max, but I'm the collateral damage."

"I would never let that happen."

"You won't be able to help me if you're dead, or in jail."

"Don't paint such a rosy picture partner. All's not lost. We didn't do anything wrong, other than put that guiltier than hell bitch into jail, where she belonged."

"Facts have a way of being twisted. She's a lawyer. She's a master at that."

"The truth will prevail," I proclaimed boldly, and foolishly.

"I'm glad you think that way," said my pixie blonde partner. "I think it's the only thing that's kept you alive all these years."

"That and my charm," I corrected her.

Lesley stopped what she was doing and looked at me. "Max, it's your charm that's almost gotten us both killed."

Point taken.

* * *

My phone chimed. Text message from Star. We had an arrangement where I'd meet her at 14^th and Harrison after the end of my shift. I pulled over to the curb so she could get into my Civic on the passenger side. Who knows how old she was. Meth addicts all looked like they were sixty, even if they were thirty. She had straggly dark hair streaked with gray and was wearing an ill-fitting tank top, jeans and sandals. Her rheumy eyes and two missing front teeth told of her hard years on the street. Fortunately, though, she seemed like she'd taken a shower recently.

"Got something for you Max," she said in a gravelly voice.

"What's it today Star? A ten or a twenty?"

Minor tips were ten dollars, major tips were twenty.

"Definitely a twenty," she answered.

"Tell me."

She held out her hand. She lived in a cash on the barrel world, even with me.

I reached into my wallet and pulled out a twenty. She reached for it and I pulled it back.

"Tell me."

"All right. You know that dude Chili? Runs with Jumbo?" You were askin' about him."

"What have you got?"

"He's got something working on the side, fencing those catatonic converters and such."

"You mean catalytic converters."

"That's what I said."

"Fine, fine," I said. "So what about it?"

"I don't think Jumbo would take kindly to Chili having some side action, he being head of security and all."

"How do you know this?"

"Everybody know it."

"Except Jumbo."

"Uh huh."

"So why should I care?"

"You want something from Chili? Now you got something on his big fat ass."

I knew Jumbo and DaVanna were deep into something that couldn't be legal. Maybe Chili knew something.

"Here's your twenty." I held out my hand and she snatched the bill from it.

"Thanks Max."

She got out of the car, no doubt to buy herself a rock.

Chapter Three

Blindsided

After meeting up with Star my stomach rumbled. My visit with Nigel gave me a hankering for Chinese. Mongolian beef, extra spicy, and an order of potstickers. I was scraping the last bits of the beef out of the take-out carton while contemplating a trip to the local liquor store for the evening's refreshment. I decided I was tired of drinking by myself and then remembered it was Wednesday night, Ladies' Night at Bailey's, and the pick-up crowd would be there. I was going stag for the first time in recent memory. No Leah. No Courtney.

As soon as I caught sight of Bailey's my mood perked up. I missed talking to intelligent human beings at night (the bottle being a silent partner of mine) and found the noisy bar a welcome change. I waded into the crowd, all women, mostly talking and drinking but some kissing in the dark corners of the Victorian house converted to a bar. There were a lot of small rooms in the back that served as overflow space, and most of them had doors, which allowed additional privacy. I'd never really gone back there as I preferred to have my liaisons in Room 204.

I pushed my way through to the Old World antique bar. Maddy bought it on a shopping trip in Paris. It was a good thirty foot long topped with a hand hammered zinc top and beaded edge. Maddy was holding court at the far end of the bar.

Maddy Bailey was my best friend and someday I'll tell you about how we partied in high school and the trouble we got into. But one thing for certain, she always had my back and I had hers.

I was happy for Maddy and her success. She graduated from college with a political science degree, which logically turned out to be the exact right education to open a bar. She was well-spoken and well read. She was preppy and always dressed impeccably. It was an interesting contrast, hanging out with me. As a teenager I pushed the limits and then some on what I was allowed to do. Maddy learned all of her worst instincts from me, and for that I'm proud. It helped make her into the well-rounded woman who could talk to a dyke biker and a college professor in the same conversation. She understood me, which was hard to do.

Maddy was laughing with a group of women I'd never seen before. They were all Asian, and all pretty. They were doing shots of something out of a bottle with Chinese characters on it. Maddy slammed her glass down on the bar.

"Gambei!" Maddy shouted to the delight of her gaggle. I knew enough about drinking to know it meant "dry or empty glass" in Chinese.

All three of the women filled their shot glasses and did a shot as well. They all started laughing again.

"Max!" Maddy shouted at me. Her voice was about ten decibels louder, which meant she was drunk.

I went up to my good friend with a big smile. I decided to get dressed up, which for me meant a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt that didn't have any holes in it. I thought I looked pleasingly presentable as I filled out my t-shirt and then some. For some women, it was an irresistible lure.

The three women looked at me with discerning eyes. They were drunk, but the alcohol didn't dull their ability to assess new company. One women in particular caught my eye, probably the oldest of the three, but the most attractive to me. She was the tallest, which still left her six inches shorter than me. She was wearing black four inch stiletto heels with straps. It was a nice contrast to her red silk dress, slit all the way up the side. She had fabulous legs, and the heels only made them more attractive. She had a small bust, but the dress made the most of what she had. Her eyes were a light amber brown and her hair had a natural wave to it. She wore it just above her shoulders.

I felt that familiar tightening in my muscles that happens when I've met an attractive woman.

"Max . . . Max I want you to meet Helen, Lily and Mona. They brought with them this fabulous Chinese liquor with a name I can't pronounce. We just a couple of shots before you showed up."

I looked at the near empty bottle and the condition Maddy was in.

"A couple?"

She smiled. "Maybe more than a couple. They just moved here from Detroit. They're sisters."

It was Lily who I had my eye on. She must have been the oldest sister. I gauged a five year gap between each of them.

"Max, I'm Lily." She reached out her slender hand to shake mine with a dainty handshake. It gave me a shiver to touch her. I met the other two sisters. Helen was the middle sister, rounder with fuller breasts than her older sister, a pleasant face and a radiant smile. Mona was the youngest. Straight black hair cut short. Projected more of a punk image, like Courtney, and maybe Courtney's age.

"Max," I said. "And Maddy's best friend."

"So she tells us," said Lily. Her voice was tinged with a British accent, suggesting she spent some time in Hong Kong. "She also told us that you work for the Cincinnati police department. How interesting."

She didn't seem to show the effects of alcohol like Maddy did. Must be that she was used to drinking it.

"It is interesting. For me it's fun. I enjoy what I do," I said. I was pretty much telling the truth. I hated the administrative side.