Farewell, My Sweet

I shook my head. "It has to be somewhere that puts them out of reach of the law. I figure, there's a shift change at the docks. They're holed up on one of the gambling boats, out past the three mile limit where the cops won't go."

Lily nodded. "Okay. What else?"

"They also think you're gonna stay quiet. But you've already shown me you're brave enough to talk. If you go to the cops, I'll bring these two in, and we can make sure they stay locked up. Can you do that?"

She hesitated for a moment. Telling one woman was one thing, and telling a bunch of cops and her parents was another thing entirely. But she gathered her courage and nodded.

I smiled. "Crooks like them always underestimate good girls."

She smiled back.

"Alright, Lily," I said. "You go home and get started. I've got one or two more hunches to play before I find them."

--

Once Lily had stepped out, I turned back to the house. It would be an official crime scene in a little bit, but there was something I needed to check first.

The thieves had cased Claire's house well enough to learn her neighbor's name, but they hadn't seen her glance at the end of the hall like I had. I walked carefully, listening to my footsteps on the floorboards until I found one that sounded hollow.

I knelt and worked the edges with my fingers until I could get a knife between the boards and pry one up. In the space beneath was a pristine felt bag. I pulled it out and peered inside.

"You could've made a lot of money as a thief, Harrison," I murmured.

It was pretty, I'll admit. Each pearl of jade was etched with intricate carvings that someone must have done with a sharp needle and a lot of patience. Compared to what people had done to get it or keep it, though, it didn't seem like much.

I picked up Claire's phone and I made three phone calls. I hoped that the first call would shoot down a hunch, one that had been developing since I took the case, but instead it hammered the nails in. It didn't change what I needed to do, though. So, my second call was to let my sister-in-law know I'd be another night, and my third was to bring in a pretty big favor.

--

"You sure about this?" Shelley asked me.

The gambling boat rose out of the fog ahead of us like a gaudy iceberg. A searchlight lazily swung across the water in a wide circle. We weren't certain how many people were on deck with guns, but it was enough to rule out a frontal assault.

"Nothing else to be done," I said.

"Well, there's grabbing a beer in the bar back on shore."

I grinned over at Shelley, who was too busy steering the tiny boat to look back. She was a former cop, although at six feet three with bright red hair she didn't exactly look the part. I'd helped her bust a smuggling ring long some years back, and she meant to return the favor.

"You can do that when we're done," I said.

"Hopefully you can too," Shelley said. She nosed the boat forward, its quiet engine pushing us past the arc of the searchlight. The sounds of the boat grew louder, laughter and Jazz and the jingle of money trickling out of people's pockets. We pulled up towards the back, where a rope dangled from one of the old lifeboats, and lashed Shelley's boat to the side.

Shelley went up first, and I have to say that the view was impressive. She braced herself against the boat and pulled herself up, her biceps standing out beautifully as she worked. She vanished over the edge, and I followed her, straining to keep a grip on the wet rope.

I pulled myself onto the deck, gasping in the salty air. Once I'd caught my breath, I stood.

"Ready?" Shelley asked.

Before I could respond, a scream echoed out from the passage that led to the old first-class cabins. I couldn't tell exactly where it was coming from, but I recognized Claire Cane's voice. The sound was despairing, and it set my every muscle on edge.

Shelley looked at me. "I can handle our plan," she said. "You go save her."

I nodded and ran.

--

The carpet had faded and the glass chandelier was missing a few lights, but the cabins had a majesty to them all the same. I had my revolver in hand, and I tried to walk as silently as I stalked down the hall. I nudged the doors open, one at a time, glancing into each empty stateroom.

I had to hope, as I pushed a door open to reveal a well-appointed room, that the thieves had paid for privacy. There were dozens of crew aboard the ship, and I certainly couldn't fight them all. If it was just the two of them, I could manage.

I heard another cry from further down the hallway, and I padded after it. At the end of the hall, I heard the sounds of a struggle from behind the first door, and I slid it open with my foot.

The room had an enormous bed at the far end, a four-poster with parted silken drapes. Claire Cane was lying on the bed, a gag in her mouth and a set of handcuffs binding her arms to the bed frame above her. The gag was the only item of clothing she wore, and I dearly wished I could have seen her like that under other circumstances.

A tall blond man stood between me and her, facing her. He wore a white bathrobe, and as far as I could tell little else. Claire was looking up at him in apprehension, squirming away from him in the sheets. I looked around the room, but couldn't see his accomplice.

"Better hold it there, Slick," I said.

I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me, slipping the bolt. Slick turned to look at me, his gray eyes unafraid in spite of my revolver.

"Claire said she'd hired a private eye," he said. "I wasn't expecting you to come out this far for her."

"I'm on a case," I said.

He nodded. "I'm also willing to go to great lengths when I'm on the hunt."

"I don't want to hear about your lengths," I said. "Back away from the bed."

He moved back, keeping his eyes locked on me. I glanced around the room, seeing a door onto an empty balcony and a painting on the wall, but no sign of his accomplice.

"The necklace is worth more than she's paying you," he said. "We could all be rich if we found it."

"It's not a popular opinion in this town," I said, "but some things aren't for sale. Now where's your friend, the tall one with the curly hair?"

"She's on her way back," he said, glancing at the door. "You sure you don't want a cut of the take?"

"I'll take the reward for turning you in."

He grinned. I saw Claire squeal through the gag, her eyes focused on something behind me, and I turned in time to see the Black woman swing in through the balcony and kick my revolver out of my hand.

The gun went skidding somewhere under the bed, and I knew I wouldn't have time to look for it. I brought my fists up, facing off against the pair of them.

The woman had a boxer's stance herself, ready to fend off my punches and respond with her own. She was a good three inches taller than me, four if you included her curly black hair, with abs that Pygmalion could've sculpted if he'd had a block of obsidian and the right kink. Slick stepped closer, pushing his robe back as he did so. He was about my height, and while his muscles weren't as chiseled as hers they looked strong enough to get any number of jobs done.

"You know," he said, "I think she knows where the necklace is."

"Uh-huh," Curly agreed, edging closer to me. "Should we fuck it out of her?"

They came at me together. I sidestepped and socked Slick across the jaw before Curly tackled me to the ground. She straddled me, pressing my body against the floor and grabbing for my wrists. I punched her in the breast, and she gave me a satisfying cry before she grabbed my wrist and pressed it down. I tried to throw her off, but Slick straddled my legs beneath her.

"You alright?" he said.

"She got me in the tit, but I'll live," she said. "You?"

"The lip," he said. I felt him reach for my boot, slipping the laces off and tossing it aside in spite of my muffled kicks.

Curly smiled at me. She had gorgeous amber eyes, and I wished we were getting to know each other under different circumstances.

"Now, in a minute we're going to have you naked," she said. "Except for the trenchcoat. My friend is going to fuck you until you tell us where the necklace is."

Slick tossed my other boot aside, my socks flying off with them. I twisted my hips as he reached for my fly and pulled it down, but it made little difference.

"Now what I want you to do," Curly said, "is be stubborn. Don't tell him anything for as long as you can. Not even when he fucks you, or cums in your bare pussy."

"You'll never get away with this," I spat.

"That's the attitude," she replied.

Slick hooked his fingers inside my panties and pulled, dragging them down along with my pants. He grabbed my ass, and Curly shifted off of me so that they could pick me up together.

I could have taken either of them. Slick was wiry and strong, but he didn't have a fighter's instincts. Curly would have been more of a challenge, even if there was less risk involved in losing a fight to her. But between the two of them, they overpowered all of my thrashing and deposited me on the bed next to Claire.

Slick sat on my hips, his robe parted enough to let his bare hips press against mine. Curly moved up, turning to sit on the pillow and pin my hands up above my head.

Slick grinned at me as he reached down to unbutton my shirt, popping one of the buttons off in his eagerness. He tore the front of my bra and opened it, leaving my entire body exposed to him. I strained to push him off, and succeeded in nothing but showing him how defined my abs were.

Claire hadn't taken her eyes off of me since the fight began. She couldn't speak with the gag, but I could read fear and sorrow and anger in her eyes. I wished I was helping her better than this.

"You could always tell me where the necklace is," Slick said.

I spat at him. My aim wasn't that precise, and it splattered against his chest instead of hitting his face. He glanced down at it, then shrugged.

"It's not your loot anyway," he said. "And if you told me, I wouldn't need to ravish either of you." He paused, then glanced over at Claire. "Although I might give Claire just one more for the road."

"Gotta make sure the road has a bump in it," Curly added.

I tried to free an arm to punch her, but her grip was solid. Slick ran his hands down my sides, then slid inwards, across my abs and down through my bush. He reached my lips with one finger and groaned in something between lust and surprise.

"Is she wet?" Curly asked.

"Oh yes," he said.

I tried to twist out of their grip, and Curly laughed. I can't help what my body does, though - I got wet enough just listening to Claire and Lily tell me their stories, and even though I would have preferred to sock them both, my pussy had other ideas.

"That's okay," Slick said. "I'm the same way."

It was true - his cock was standing high. He looked at me, at my glare and my blush, then shifted to push one knee between my legs.

I tried to kick him, but he pushed my leg to the side. He shifted, his arms around my legs, until his hips were between them and his cock was lined up with my wet pussy.

"I love her thighs," Curly said.

Slick didn't say anything. I wasn't even certain he'd heard. He just held my thighs tightly and leaned forward until I felt his cock press against my lips.

"No!" I cried, as I felt him slide into me. I kicked desperately, but I couldn't get any purchase on the sheets and Slick was too close for me to hit him. Claire whimpered, the gag muffling her despair. I tried to glare at him, my eyes going wider as he slid further in with each thrust. My pussy was wet enough to make his passage effortless, but I could see that he wanted to feel everything.

He leaned in close as he pressed his hips against mine, his cock buried in my cunt. He was close enough for me to see the sweat on his brow, and the stubble on his chin. There was blood on his lip from where I'd hit him, but it didn't mar his appearance or his mood.

"Oh, detective," he gasped. "I'm so glad you dropped in."

Curly glanced over at Claire. "Maybe Claire will tell us where the necklace is, to save you."

"She doesn't know any more," I said. "It was hidden under a floorboard in her house and I moved it. You aren't that good at thieving, are you?"

Curly's face was a treat - she looked like she couldn't decide whether to punch me, her partner, or herself. I had an opinion, but she didn't ask me.

Slick seemed unperturbed, though. "Stealing is just one of the ways we pay for our real interests," he said, his hips rocking slowly against me.

I tried to cook up a good retort, but nothing came to mind. His movements were still slow and exploratory, but my cunt was already grateful for the company, and he was working to inspire more gratitude. I realized, as he watched my expression, that he wasn't watching to see if his words had angered me - he was gauging what motions had the biggest effect on me.

I didn't want him to see that, any more than I wanted him inside me, but he was more perceptive than I'd thought. Even when I was certain I'd bitten back my gasps of pleasure, or stopped my hips from bucking against his, he seemed to know what was beneath the surface.

"Oh, yes," he groaned. He looked down, watching his cock draw back and then vanish between my lips. I couldn't help but follow his gaze, and judging by Claire's muffled sounds of despair and his accomplice's panting, I wasn't the only one.

"I'm not going to tell you," I gasped.

"That's alright," Curly said. "Please, keep resisting until he knocks you up."

He smiled at me, watching my expression as I kept my lust bottled as best I could. "Maybe I can figure it out," he said softly. "You do have a tell or two."

He shifted, his hips pressing more sharply against mine just above my cunt, and I moaned in spite of myself. I gritted my teeth, determined to hold it in, but it was getting more difficult by the second.

"I can tell that you need this," he said. "You're as deprived as Lily was."

"Fuck you," I hissed.

He nodded, watching my abs tighten as I struggled beneath him. "There's nothing else I'd rather be doing," he said.

Above me, Curly shifted her position. Carefully, she moved my right wrist to pin it beneath her ankle as she knelt above me. It wasn't quite as tight as her grip, but her weight pressed deep enough into the mattress that I couldn't twist free. Once I was trapped once again, she moved her hand down and slid it inside her panties.

"I love to watch," she said. "I mean yeah, I get half of the loot, but I also get to watch him knock all these girls up. They cum so pretty, and then their bellies get so big and beautiful too."

"You're a flatterer," he said.

I tried not to think about what the odds were, on that score. I was always at my horniest when my body was most ready for a baby, and if he was half as potent as she kept implying, I'd be swelling for sure.

I couldn't stop the pleasure from creeping into his view. I panted, my breasts rising and falling as I tried to keep up with my racing heart. My eyes grew wider as the pleasure rose, and I saw his smile broaden in response. He was terrible at getting information out of me, but I could tell that was a secondary goal at best. I felt his sweaty skin against mine as he moved into me, our bodies sharing as deeply as they could.

"I bet she cums like a firecracker," Curly said.

Slick didn't respond. His eyes were on mine, trying to break through my glare. I could feel my body drawing closer to an explosion, the pleasure getting deeper as my pussy gathered its strength. I knew I couldn't stop it, but I didn't want him to think I was grateful for it.

"You're so good at keeping secrets, detective," he said.

"Better believe it," I hissed.

"Well, there's one secret I can get from you," he said. "And I bet it's prettier than the necklace, anyway."

I frowned. I've always been a fighter, ready to rise up and knock someone down for the right cause. My pussy isn't clear on how it fits into that desire, though. I wanted to beat him but my cunt only knew the one way to defeat a man. My anger had gotten me wet, and now it was sending me higher, my efforts to keep it bottled up only increasing the pressure until I couldn't hold it back any longer.

"Fuck you," I gasped.

"Oh yes," he panted. "Show me."

"Bastard," I moaned. "No. No!"

Curly was wrong - it wasn't a firecracker. I was trying to hold back, to keep myself from falling into helpless pleasure, and I kept slipping by inches until my grip failed entirely. My anger was so intertwined with my horniness that it was impossible to keep them back. I roared at him as I felt my body win, the pleasure bursting free even as I twisted my hips desperately to escape it. I could feel my cunt squeezing his cock, the fire in my blood only making it stronger. I could see his pleasure at my ecstasy, and that fed my anger, and we fell together.

I was dimly aware of Claire wailing next to me, and Curly cursing with her own pleasure as she watched me fall, but my eyes were on Slick. He was thrusting deep into me, determined to feel as much of my climax as he could. My pleasure surrounded him, flowing into him as I moaned and struggled beneath him, and my anger was just a part of that ecstasy to him.

"Bastard," I growled as soon as I could form words again. I tried to catch my breath, my muscles too awash in pleasure to do anything more focused.

"Oh, beautiful," Curly said.

"That goes for you too," I spat.

"Honey, if you're gonna worry about bastards, worry about the one he's gonna give you," she said.

I wanted to glare at her, but I looked down. Slick's pace hadn't flagged, through my climax, but I could feel him lingering inside me with each thrust. My own pleasure must have done a wonder for him, because he was rising towards his own.

"If you're gonna tell us, you'd better do it soon," he panted. "So, is it in your office?"

I shook my head. "It's in the last place you two would look."

He looked up at his accomplice and shrugged. "Still not sure," he said.

"That's okay," she grinned. "I think I know where you want to check next."

He grinned and looked down at our hips. He watched his cock slide into me, my wetness coating his shaft. My abs stood out with the effort of trying to throw him off, but I knew it wasn't going to work.

I felt something brush against my ankle, and looked over to see Claire pressing her foot against mine. With her hands bound, it was all that she could do. I supposed she could have kicked him, but she wasn't a fighter. She knew she'd gotten me into this mess, even if I'd known the risks, and she wanted to give me what comfort she could.

I wondered if Shelley would give me any more help. If she succeeded, help could arrive at any moment, but if she failed I could be stuck here for days while they tried to fuck the information out of me. There was nothing I could do but hope.

Slick's motions wouldn't let me stray far from the moment. I could see his rising intensity in the set of his eyebrows, hear it in the ragged edge of his breath, and feel it in his every motion. His pace was rising faster, his cock plunging into me, his hips pressing against me as if he couldn't bear to be apart from me.

"Oh, yes," he gasped.

"Knock her up," Curly gasped. "Please."

I glared at him, but he was beyond noticing that, too. I could see his eyes growing wider, and I knew the pleasure was carrying him away. His passion was as inexorable as a landslide, and he was as helpless before it as I was.

"Fuck," he moaned. I made a last-ditch effort to buck my hips enough to shift him, but he pressed in, driving our hips together as his pace reached a fever pitch. "Oh, yes! Yes!"

He didn't look smug or triumphant as his climax overtook him. His eyes grew wide, until I was certain that he couldn't see anything for all the pleasure. He cried out, his words melting into nonsense as he drove himself into me. He was in awe, of the pleasure itself or of my body, and he couldn't help but be transported by it.