Ghost Detectives Bk. 01: Discovery

That caught him by surprise. "I have a personal score to settle with Frank Ellis, so no," he emphatically exclaimed. "As far as you two are concerned, you stay ghosts and when this is over you walk away as ghosts. Can we now get back to what we all want?"

By the tone of his voice they either needed to walk away or run with it; already, they were implicated, and so was he, narrowing their options, but from his actions and his demeanour they did hold some trust in him.

"Are we a team or do I work alone?"

Jennie held out her hand followed by Debra and they shook hands.

"If the two of us disguised ourselves we could all go to the Silver tonight," suggested Debra.

"A tall order at such short notice. It's hours driving to the Silver." Jennie's mind was turning. "A friend of mine works as a makeup artist and could easily change how we look in a heartbeat. I'll ring him and see if he can sort something out later today."

"If that's the case, perhaps he can do the same for me as well. Frank doesn't know me but it's an added advantage a change of hair colour would help."

She rang her friend and after a bit of haggling he agreed, also suggesting they let him fit their wardrobe to match the look if they were able to get to his place by four o clock, warning Jennie it could take a few hours according to what disguises they wore.

A few hours later, donning wigs, makeup, a little padding here and there, skin tone altered, appropriate clothes wrapped ready to change into later that evening, the two women were on their way, James deciding to leave his looks alone, having booked them into an hotel earlier that day. They arrived at the hotel just after nine and were given keys to a suite with adjoining bedrooms, shared lounge and even a six-seater dining area with a small, fully stocked bar.

Looking around the suite, Debra commented. "You must have one hell of an expense account David. This is a party suite and must be by far their most expensive."

They sat around the table discussing how they intended to play the night out and for the two women to not make direct contact with Sandra in case they were recognised and especially not to speak with her. They'd been intimate with her on numerous occasions and if she heard their voices they'd be instantly recognised and then it would be game set and match against them with a certainty they'd leave in body bags.

It was eleven when they arrived at the club, queued for ten minutes and were soon at the bar. Ordering a bottle of wine, they sat at a table in the corner of the lounge area away from the dance floor. Focusing on faces, they recognised no one so the two women got up to dance leaving James alone. It wasn't long before men hit on them which they ignored and returned to the table alone as the club quickly filled.

One table with a reserve tag directly opposite them was empty. A few people did try to sit there but they were quickly shuffled away by the waiters. Just after midnight two men sat at the table and soon a large wine chiller with bottles of champagne poking over the top was placed in the centre. One of the men had a dark complexion aged around forty, muscular in stature, the other was small and skinny.

Fifteen minutes later a woman joined them, her hair colour was different, but there was instant recognition from the two women and James had to tap them to stop them staring. They were expecting to see her, but despite the expectation, seeing her was still a shock knowing how close they all once were, best friends, lovers and confidants, sharing their most intimate thoughts and secrets, and here she was, the deceiver, their blackmailer, their nemesis from hell, a murderer, larger than life and needing all their self-restraint to not go over to her and give her a good slapping.

Questions traversed their minds, sapping at their confidence. Why? Was she really that evil? Yes of course she was, the conscienceless demented bitch from hell, the psychopathic demon. How could they have been so easily fooled? There she was happy and smiling with seemingly not a care in the world.

They ordered another bottle of wine. James, wearing glasses giving him a school teacher look danced a few fast songs with the women before returning to their seats. The tempo dimmed and James asked if one of them would like to dance. Jennie shook her head glancing over occasionally at Sandra as if she the magnet they her filings, anger burning hot remembering her funeral and how she cried over her loss.

Debra took his hand and they were soon in a close embrace on the dance floor. She smiled at him. The tempo, the excitement, the danger had them both aroused and James knew she could feel his hardness pressing against her stomach, and the way she was smiling at him and rubbing herself into him, she wanted more, a lot more, as her hand first brushed over and then held his hardness for a few seconds testing girth and length before releasing and returned her hand to his shoulder whispering, "If it is looking for a home later, I have a warm nest that's going begging."

She looked over his shoulder and her mood quickly changed as her body stiffened in anger. "I could easily go over there and drag a knife across her throat," she hissed, "she's looking over at us dancing."

James met her eyes. "Look away! I can feel your sense of anger and vengeance and if I can sense your intensity, so can others, stop staring at her." He turned her around facing her away from Sandra, her head resting on his shoulder.

Stealing a quick glance, he noticing Frank had now joined the group, Sandra no longer looked towards the dance floor, instead, talked to Frank and the dark skinned man who stood holding his hand out towards her. They headed towards the dance floor and started to smooch. They were so close James could touch her. Holding Debra close, he shuffled her off the dance floor back towards their seats. Jennie, in the short time they were away, had collected a man friend who sat next to her talking. James nodded for her to get rid of her companion. Picking up his subliminal message, she introduced James as her husband and Debra as his latest girlfriend and it wasn't long before he excused himself. The time had come to take stock and plan their next move and they huddled close together.

"As she is supposed to be already dead, I could make it into a reality," murmured Jennie face red with anger.

"If I get to her first," hissed Debra, "you'll be too late."

"Your vindictiveness is getting us nowhere. As least it proved that what I said is correct. Frank doesn't seem put out that his house has just burnt down."

"I should make a call and get this place raided."

"An option," agreed James, "but not the right one. We need to find out where she is staying. Knowing how they operate, both are meticulous; immediately they get wind of a raid she'd be gone, and believe me, she has already formulated a plan to disappear should that happen. I suspect she'd use numerous disguises so she could just melt away."

"Find where Frank is staying and you'll find her nest."

"I don't think that'll be the case, staying together is too risky. If she was staying with him it would have been at his house, and that wasn't the case. She's holed up in a flat nearby. We hang around and when she leaves, we follow. Look at the two together smooching and kissing. She'll more than likely be in bed with him later."

They danced a few more songs all the while watching their target as she stayed with her partner on the dance floor. Frank got up and left as the evening wound down with everyone starting to leave. Sandra went back to her table picked up her bag and left on the arm of the dark skinned man. They followed close by holding and kissing each other as they walked along behind their targets, Jennie leaving them after a while to walk in front staggering now and again as if drunk.

Sandra and her companion arrived at a block of flats in the most expensive part of the town. She tapped in a code and the door opened and they entered. Just before the door had time to fully close James wedged a small stone into the doorframe stopping it from connecting, waited until they were in the lift and followed through into the lobby. The concierges' hours were from six in the morning until midnight, after that time residents use their personal code to enter and leave the building. The lift stopped on the third floor allowing James to quickly sprint up the stairs to see which flat they entered. Watching through the glass pane in the fire door, he had his answer and left the building joining up with the other two and took a taxi back to their hotel. He knew he'd taken an element of chance, there were cameras in the lobby but felt the risk worth the reward.

Chapter Twenty-four

Carolyn and Frank left the Silver and went to his flat. "Manni is the finance minister of his country and is quite taken with you."

"He gave me his card saying he's interested in purchasing medical equipment and for me to give him a ring and set up and appointment to discuss it."

He laughed. "I wouldn't go there my dear, he'll want payment from you first and he'll never deliver."

She needed to appear professional and pretend there was no undercurrent. "We would require a deposit first and a promissory note of some kind for the balance upon delivery and a training and maintenance contract in place or my company won't budge."

"You are clever, but Manni has as much interest in hospitals as a Muslim has with the Pope."

She needed to act naively. "That is why I will insist upon a deposit and a note of credit backed by his government."

"What if he wants you to warm his bed."

"'I'd find him a duplicate prostitute and dress her up to look like me if I must, an order is an order. If it is what he says, there's a few hundred thousand in commission in my bank plus the profit my company stands to make," she chuckled. "I'm not for sale at any price. My body is free to whomever I give it for their pleasure and expect the same pleasure reciprocated. Are you going to undress me or are you expecting me to do it myself," she smirked, grabbing his flaccid penis over his trousers? "I see I might have a little work to do down there," she laughed.

She knelt in front of him and undid his zip, soon his joy stick found her hungry opening, sucking and swallowing, tongue twirling enclosed within the warmth of her mouth, massaging his hardness with her hands. She so loved the feel of a hard penis, holding and controlling his body's rhythm with mouth and hands as he groaned against her onslaught.

She felt the soft texture against her tongue, the warmth against the palm of her hands as her fingers masturbated him, cupping the underneath feeling the weight as she lifted his testicles gently kissing and caressing them.

She undid his belt, pulled his trousers and briefs down and he stepped out of them. She panted, asking him to take off his shirt demanding nakedness pushing him back onto the settee, not relenting, attacking, controlling with her mouth in a frenzy of wanton lust, an abandonment to the fineries of womanhood, the currency, raw animalistic sex. She hated the man and what he stood for, but for this moment his body was hers, she would use it and discard it as if a soiled rag when she had wiped herself into gratification and yet, when she closed her eyes and fantasied, always she was with her husband.

Without conscious thought, she had pulled her gown up over her knees and her hand drifted downward between her legs into her panties, across her labia stroking upward, downward, fingers wet from her body's love moisture dripping from her like warm rain on a summer's day; pleasant, satisfying and hot. She inserted one finger, two fingers into her pulsating vulva pushing, stroking, her finger circling her clitoris, feeling the wetness of arousal as she started pumping herself into her first orgasm, simultaneously her paramour reached his release, pulsating over her cheek, decorating her lust infused face with his life-giving semen as their bodies tensioned their release like a coil would its spring.

The time was almost there to mention Manni and Sandra while he lay naked across his settee. She rubbed her face into his stomach laughing all the while. "Have it back," she giggled. "That was hot, I'm falling for you."

He drew the palm of his hand over his stomach. "You didn't have to give it back to me, you could have kept it."

She grinned. "On my face as decoration, you mean?"

"The aroma of dried sperm is quite the aphrodisiac."

"Better I smell you then than me," she bantered, removing her gown and draping it over a chair, standing over him displaying her skimpy brassier and panties. "See how wet you made my panties," giving him a chastising look. "Do you think Manni is serious about an order or is it just blubber and garbage to get from me what you get?"

"He normally gets what he wants; a bit of both, I'd say, but I told him you are off limits."

"Too true, I get from you all I want and more, my little face decorator," smirking like a schoolgirl who lost her panties behind the bicycle shed. "You are the only one I'll allow to help me with my makeup," she teased. "Manni mentioned something about a woman joining us. I think it may be one of his lovers, he told me while we danced that when in this country, he keeps a few friends with benefits handy. I suspect they are prostitutes and one will be joining him tomorrow night hinting towards a threesome. I said we may not be there tomorrow night nor the following day and after that, I'll be gone for a few days working, not sure when I'll be back; also, I told him I don't do threesomes. I want this to work between us Frank, and I'm a one man woman," thinking of her husband.

Frank laughed raucously. "That's Manni; seriously, I want it to work as well. He's talking about Chantelle, she's a successful business woman like you, a few years older but she knows what she wants and takes it, a winner; her and Manni are two of a kind."

"With you making it three," making light of her observation, but beneath her words lay a pathological hatred against the actions these people perpetuated.

"I think you should meet her, you are a lot alike."

Inwardly she smiled. "If you think so and there's a benefit, I'll go along with what you want, now I think we need to retire into the bedroom and get a little exercise before we sleep. I've had enough with decoration, I now want the real article in the raw."

Chapter Twenty-five

James and the two women arrived at the hotel and when in their suite poured them all a whiskey and sat around the table. The women still hadn't cooled down, angry at seeing Sandra at the club and wanting revenge.

"I want to see the bitch dead," hissed Jennie. "A white hot rod stuffed up her arse and let her fry for a day before I put a bullet between her eyes."

"She's being fucked by that guy as we speak with not a care in the world. I feel like going to her flat and ask her why before I ram a knife into her heart. I feel betrayed, humiliated, so fucking angry, such a fool."

"I understand the anger but that's not going to get us an answer. We need to decide where we go from here. We know where she lives and that she's Frank's partner. We could get the police there tonight to arrest her. It would be easy to prove who she is, and prove she murdered the substitute, or at the very least paid an accomplice to kill her."

James knew if Sandra was arrested in this dimension it may not happen in his so the safest way would be her and Frank's demise. Still, he reasoned, even if their doubles were convicted and spent time in jail, providing it wouldn't change the long term result and alter history, the outcome would stay the same with them remaining safely under the radar as the two timelines eventually came together. With an added proviso, the incalculable risk, that nothing in the interim would intervene to prevent the two from ultimately merging so the short term difference would not change anything in the future, reverting to the default setting as if the differences had never happened and would have no lasting impact.

"Proof of your trysts are gone but both of you could still be brought into the frame by your friendships coming to light. The press will soon dig the dirt and the fallout would be immense. Jennie, Debra, do you want to make that call and have Sandra and Frank arrested?"

"I can't see any other choice. If we do nothing, they will carry on ruining people's lives, killing and drug running and all the other things. It must stop and if it means we go down so be it, Jennie?"

She shuffled uneasily in her chair. "It won't be just us but our families and friends who will suffer the consequences, but as you say, we have little choice, look where Courtney is and her brother dead, we cannot allow this to continue."

James collected his thoughts before speaking. "There is another way," hesitating, "we sort it ourselves."

"You mean turn assassin?"

"Not necessarily kill them, mute them in some way."

"As you would a dog or is that some semantically romantic way of dressing up a kill to alleviate one's conscience, is that your solution?"

"I know we all want to see them dead, but I don't think any of us could live with that on our conscience or even pay someone to act for us. You're a doctor, is there some way we can destroy their brains? A drug that will turn them into babbling idiots and keep them there permanently; memory loss, Alzheimer, cognitive arrogation, brain damage and the like?"

"There are always drugs that can damage the brain, but that means injecting them over a period of days, and who's to say it couldn't be reversed in the future by advances in medicine but I see the logic behind it, Jennie?"

She grinned. "Better than death, I like it."

"Another whiskey anyone? Debra, can you research what drugs can be used to mush the brain. Also, a soporific that can be easily dissolved into a drink without changing colour and taste."

"Not tonight I can't. Give me until tomorrow and I'll have the answer."

The time was 3am and after finishing his whiskey James was ready for sleep and excused himself to his bedroom leaving the other two finishing up their drinks. He was so tired he just dropped his clothes onto the floor and crawled naked into bed and was soon asleep. Early the next morning he was startled awake by a muffled sound coming from the other bedroom and as dawn broke, he turned to go back to sleep but needed the toilet.

Exiting, naked, ablutions complete, the noise soon became apparent. The two women were engaging in early morning gymnastics. Despite his tiredness, his body responded, the delights of the flesh overpowering the delights of sleep. The longer he listened the more his arousal grew and his hand, as if directed by divine force, wrapped around his penis, slowly moving in masturbatory strokes. The image inside his mind, had locked, seeing his tongue moving between his wife's labia and could feel, taste, smell, her body's aroma.

He pushed the door open, the bouquet of sexual sweat hitting his flared nostrils accentuating smell and taste, Debra's mouth locked into Jennie's vagina. The two women's eyes locked into his with not a word spoken, caught in the headlight of their own passions. His hunger apparent, his hardness a testimony to what he wanted. He walked to the bed and joined them, his mouth moving toward Jennie, Debra's mouth moving towards him, his mouth replaced Debra's, her mouth replaced his hand, tongue working, circulating, nerve endings meeting, his tongue tracing the outside of Jennie's vulva. Deeper and deeper he delved penetrating her vagina, his mouth wet as her arousal built, her wetness flowing and flooding into his mouth. Her she-jaculation soaked his face as his tongue moved and circled Jennie's clitoris. Her actions and groans flooded his senses with messages, unspoken but subliminally understood. I am open, I am available. eat me, fill me with your sperm.