Kassandra, Woman of Mystery Ch. 03

Chapter Three, Family Ties

Things get complicated as our relationships with friends and family change.

Samantha and I kissed, Then we broke our embrace and she composed herself. Stephanie took her arm and said, "Let's go home, Pet, and talk this over." They headed out Kassandra's door, and after the door closed, Kassandra led me to the couch where we sat down together.

She took hold of my hands in hers, and asked, "Todd, how do you really feel about Samantha? Are you falling in love with her?"

I told her, "Honestly, I don't know. I'm confused and not sure how I feel about her. The first time I had sex was with my best friend Eldon's divorced older sister. I was eighteen, and I thought I was in love with her. Later, when she told me I was 'cute', I thought my heart was broken. It wasn't until after I'd had sex with several women closer to my age, that I started to understand the difference between sex and love. When I fooled around with my sister over the holidays, it felt like we were the only two people on earth. I still don't understand what is so special about my feelings for Traci, any more than I understand what Samantha and I shared when we made love. Honestly, neither experience felt like anything I'd ever experienced before. I don't know what was different about my time with Samantha, but I know something very special happened that night. I know that I do want to see her again, and I'm certain I care a lot about her, but I don't know for sure if she really is 'the one'."

She hugged me and said, "Todd you are a very sensitive young man, and I know that you will eventually work things out. I am certain that you will not rush into something as serious as marriage, because I can tell that you were raised by a mother and father who were great role models. I wish I could be of more assistance, but I need to take care of something in my own personal life. I need to leave the country for a month or so to take care of some 'family business'. When I return, we will have a lot more time to talk about these things, and I will be able to share more about myself with you. For the time being, all I ask is that you say nothing to anyone about my absence. For your safety, and the welfare of everyone in both of our lives, I cannot tell you or any of my other friends about why I am leaving or where I am going.

Then she took my hands again and said, "I wish I could stay here and help you resolve your feelings, but I cannot. Something has just come up, and it requires my immediate attention. This is, perhaps the most important job I have ever had to do. It involves people that are closer to me than you or anyone in the City, and they are in danger, so I must protect them. I cannot tell you where I am going, or what I am doing. Do you understand and promise to keep my secret?"

I looked into those captivating blue eyes, and said, "I will do as you ask, Kassandra. When you return I hope you will be able to share more about this secret part of your life with me."

She kissed me and said, "I will Darling. When this trip is over, I will have completely cut ties with that part of my life, and there will be no need for me to keep any secrets from you or anyone else. I will be able to share the part of me I have hidden from you and everyone else in the 'civilian' world. What I will be doing will be dangerous and potentially life threatening. If I do not return, please do not try to find me because the people I will be dealing with are even more dangerous than the ones Ian Lancaster Fleming wrote about in his novels. In my absence, Stephanie will be handling my business here in Chicago. She knows nothing about this part of my life, only that I have had to leave, so please don't mention any of this to her, OK?"

I agreed, and we kissed goodbye at her door. I went to class, and when I returned late in the afternoon, I found an envelope had been slid under my apartment's door.

When I opened the envelope, I found a key and a note written in her beautiful handwriting with purple ink, that said:

'Take care my love and please water my plants. I hope to see you again soon. Love Kassie.'

I read the note a dozen times and wondered what she meant about watering her plants. I had been in every one of her apartment's rooms and didn't remember seeing plants anywhere. I realized that it must be a secret coded message when I noticed evidence that the envelope had been sealed originally but the flap had been carefully tucked inside when I opened it. I was going to throw it away or burn it, but decided to keep it, at least for a while. I put Kassandra's key in my pocket and hid the note and envelope between the photo and the backing of one of the copies of my photos that were hanging on the wall of my apartment.

Confused by the note, I decided to go across the street for some coffee, hoping it would settle my nerves. When I closed and locked my apartment door behind me, I noticed something I had missed when I first came home. On the floor of the stairway landing between our apartments were droplets of what appeared to be dried blood. I investigated further, and I saw a trail of blood that led from Kassandra's door, across the landing, and ended at the top of the stairway toward the lower floors.

I decided to investigate further, so I used the key Kassandra had given me, and opened my neighbor's door. What I saw when the door was opened, was a complete mess. It was like someone had ransacked the place as if they were looking for something. I closed the door and left the building quietly and made my way to the Coffeehouse across the street.

Several minutes later, when I finally calmed down, while sitting in my favorite booth across the street waiting for my coffee to cool, I called Stephanie and told her what I had just seen. She told me not to call the police or touch anything. I told her I hadn't done either, and where I was.

Fifteen minutes later as I was starting on my second cup, Kassandra's lawyer slid into the booth seat across from me. Her face looked ashen, and she acted very ill at ease, so I got up and got her a coffee of her own. After a few sips, she finally asked, "What happened? Did you touch anything in the apartment?"

I told her what I had seen, and that I had only touched the door of our friend's apartment. She asked, "Do you think Kassandra is still there?"

I told her as much about my conversation with Kassandra early that morning as I dared, leaving out the part about the purpose and destination of her trip, and told her about the note that had been slid under my door. She looked calmer, and said, "I don't know much about Kassandra's 'business', but I know enough to realize that she would take precautions and perhaps set booby traps inside her apartment to foil anyone who shouldn't be there."

When I reminded her about the message about watering the plants, Stephanie agreed with me that our friend never had any plants, so this must be a cryptic secret message. As we were drinking our coffee, she made a call, and when we were finished ten minutes later, we went back across the street, to return to 'the scene of the crime'.

As we walked up to the door of the apartment building, a man wearing a grey suit, trench coat, and a fedora appeared mysteriously out of nowhere.

Stephanie hugged him, and introduced me to Samuel Spader, her ex-husband who just happened to be a private investigator. He opened the door to the stairway, and we followed as he walked upstairs, taking photos with a small Canon 35mm camera. When we got to the top of the stairway, he noticed the blood trail, and pulled a small case from his inside coat pocket.

He opened the case and removed several Q-tips. He took samples of the dried blood, dipping the ends of the swabs in a small vial of what smelled lice alcohol, and sealed each one in a separate plastic baggie. When we got to Kassandra's door, he asked me if I had touched it. When I told him I had, he nodded, and reached into another pocket and put on a pair of plastic gloves.

He asked me for Kassandra's key and I gave it to him. He opened the door and when it swung open, we all saw the shambles inside. He then reached into another pocket and pulled out a pair of cotton shoe covers and put them on.

Before he walked into the room, he told us to wait in my apartment. After we watched him close the door, Stephanie and I went across the hall to wait inside my apartment. I made some coffee and we sat quietly, and waited, both wondering what had happened.

A little over an hour later, there was a knock at my door, and I answered it as fast as my feet could get me there. By the time I shut the door behind me, Sam, as he asked me to call him, had taken off his hat and trench coat, and was sitting at the snack bar, next to his ex-wife.

He started, "It appears that someone has broken into Ms. Inverness' apartment and was searching for something."

'No shit Sherlock', I thought, but didn't say anything aloud.

He continued, "Although the apartment seems to have been thoroughly searched and looks disheveled, I don't think that the culprits found what they were looking for and left empty handed. From what I know about our friend, the evidence shows that she left several devices that were designed to injure or maim anyone who became too curious after they entered the residence. There were three items that appeared to be cactus plants but were actually designed to eject stainless steel needles whenever anyone came into contact with them, and I believe that they were the source of the blood we saw on the floor of the stairway landing."

Stephanie asked him, "Sam, did anyone touch her safe?"

He shook his head and said, "If they did, I don't believe they got it open. While the panel hiding it appears to have been disturbed, there was a blood covered bowling ball in the middle of the bedroom, so I believe her defensive measures appeared to have been successful."

I asked, "Were the windows that open onto the fire escape tampered with?"

He answered, "No they weren't. I would have gotten a signal If that would have happened because Kassandra turned on the surveillance system when she left. I came straight here when you called, so I haven't looked at the tapes yet, but I will when I get back to the office. I'll contact you tomorrow Steff. Right now, I need to get back to my office and review recordings. Don't go into the apartment until I have had the 'cleaners' take care of everything. I'll send you a bill when we're done."

After he left, I asked Stephanie, "Does Sam work for you or Kassandra?"

She said, "Actually, he works for both of us, but Sam has a special connection with Kassandra. They seemed to have more in common with each other than any two people I know and I always thought that they had shared secret lives," and seemed to stare off into space for a while.

When she said this, I realized that I had noticed a similar speech patterns and undertones in the way both Sam spoke, and the way Kassandra would talk when she would get serious about something.

Stephanie snapped out of her fog and continued, "When Sam and I were married, he would often get a little too violent during sex, especially when he drank too much. Whenever that would happen, I would call Kassandra. She would come over to our place and let him take out his frustrations on her. Most of the time she would give back as good as he gave, and usually dominated him into submission. When that would happen, he usually came to me whimpering like a little puppy. After five years of marriage, I finally got tired of his bullshit, and we eventually agreed to get an amicable divorce. We are still good friends and fuck occasionally, but only when Kassandra is able to join us."

Then Stephanie looked at me and said, "Todd, all of this intrigue has made me horny. Can we fuck?" and started undressing as she headed for my bedroom.

Not being one to disappoint a lady, I stood up and started undressing myself. When the last of my clothes hit the floor, I walked into the bedroom, and when I walked through the door, I felt Stephanie's nude body against my back. I turned around, took her into my arms, and we kissed passionately. Somehow, we ended up on the bed without tripping over each other.

We didn't need to bother with foreplay, because as soon as we landed on the bed with me in top of her, she grabbed my erection, spread her legs, and guided it into her soaking wet love tunnel. We were both operating on autopilot, as we fucked each other until we fell asleep, exhausted.

When we woke up, the room was dark because we hadn't turned on any lights. We were still connected, and when I moved, my flaccid cock slipped out of her vagina. She looked at me and said, "I had two client meetings this afternoon, but they weren't that important. Fucking you is the best therapy I've had in months. I'll catch up with those two bankruptcies tomorrow."

I kissed her and said, "Would you like to share a shower?" She agreed, and afterward, I fixed us dinner, wearing only an apron that Mrs. Simpson had left behind. Stephanie sat nude at the snack bar and checked her phone. After she finished reading and answering her text messages, she showed me the last exchange that had been between her and Samantha.

The messages started out with several urgent ones like, 'Where are you! You were supposed to be here hours ago!', becoming increasing more urgent as they continued. The last one in the series said, "Never mind, I'll take care of it myself".

Then I read Stephanie's response:

"Sorry pet, someone broke into Kassandra's place. I called Sam and he took care of everything. I was so stressed, I spent the rest of the day fucking Todd. He's fixing us dinner, come over if you like."

Just as I finished reading, her phone dinged, and another message filled the screen:

"Be right there. Don't drain his balls, I need a testosterone injection too!"

When I showed Samantha's response to Stephanie, she said, "Too late, I've already drained you."

I smiled and said, "I recover quickly, so I'll have plenty for Samantha by the time she gets here." I prepared enough of my mother's recipe goulash for three and was finishing just as I heard a knock at my door. I turned off the stove and answered the door, still wearing only the apron Mrs. Simpson had left behind.

When I opened the door, Samantha rushed in and closed the door behind her. She wrapped her arms around me and we kissed passionately. When we broke our embrace, she said, "I like how you've dressed for dinner."

I took off the apron and asked, "Do you like this better?"

She smiled and answered, "Yes, that's much better." She started undressing as we walked to the kitchenette, and asked, "Who were those creepy looking guys with the black trench coats and fedoras I passed in the stairway?"

I shrugged and answered her, "My guess is they were Sam Spade's 'cleaning crew'."

She looked at me strangely for a moment, and then giggled when she caught my Bogart reference to Stephanie's ex-husband.

I dished three plates of the casserole, grabbed three bottles of Stroh's from the refrigerator, and we sat down for dinner. I ate and didn't say a word as the two ladies shared conspiracy theories about Kassandra and her 'business' as they ate. When they asked me what I thought about what had happened, I said, "I have no Idea. I know that she seems to know someone no matter where we go together. As far as what her 'business' is, the only two things that I know for sure is that she owns this building and is the wildest fuck I have ever had."

The two women looked at each other and giggled. Then Stephanie said, "She certainly is a mysterious woman." Once again, I thought, 'No shit Sherlock'.

After dinner was finished and cleaned up, I took both ladies to my bedroom, and did my best to satisfy their libidos. As I rested in between bouts, the ladies took care of each other. Sometime during the night, I crashed, and when I woke up on Tuesday morning, they were gone. There was a love note them on my nightstand with lipstick kisses from both of them at the bottom.

I got up, showered, had breakfast, and dressed for the day. Later, after I finished my classes for the day, I decided to visit Dr. George Kelso, the instructor of the Art Nude Photography class I planned on taking that summer session. I also wanted to ask him about the internship that my sister Traci had applied for.

After I finished my color transparency development laboratory class, I walked down the hall to Dr. Kelso's office. When I walked in the door, I saw the professor and his secretary chatting over coffee. I knocked on the open door and was invited in. I introduced myself and asked if there were any vacant spots left in his Art Nude Photography class for the summer session. When his secretary opened one of the loose-leaf folders on the desk and looked at it, she said that there were three spots left.

She got up from the desk, went over to a filing cabinet, pulled out a form and handed it to me. I filled out the form and handed it to her and she filed it with the others.

Then I asked the professor if he knew anything about the nude model internship that my sister had applied for. The professor told me that he was helping Professor Albertson with that program because they would be sharing models for both of their classes that summer. He asked me for my sister's name, and when I told him, he opened the third drawer of the filing cabinet behind him. He started rifling through the drawer until he pulled out a file and started looking at it.

He looked at me and asked, "Is your sister's name Traci Magnussen?" When I told him it was, he said, "Mr. Magnussen, is looks like your sister's internship is pending because she did not include any photographs with her application."

I remembered I still had the proofs from our shoot at Christmas with me, so I took off my backpack, reached inside and pulled out the envelope with the prints I had made. I handed the envelope to the professor and said, "I took these while I was at home over Christmas. Will they do?"

Dr. Kelso took the envelope from me, opened it, and started looking at the photos. About half way through, he walked over to the large table in the middle of the room. He spread all the photos on the table and grabbed a large magnifying glass. He spent more than ten minutes looking at the photos.

When he asked his secretary to look at the photos, she said "Wow, those are great."

The professor looked at me and said, "You took these, Mr. Magnussen?"

I nodded, and he said, "I've heard a lot about you, young man. Dr. Phillips and Chancellor Hartke speak highly of you, and your prize-winning entry last fall speaks for itself. The fact that you are also good friends with Evelynn Byrne and Kassandra Inverness are two more feathers in your cap. These photographs are more than acceptable and will assure your sister a place in our program. Since she is already familiar with posing as a nude photographer's model, I think I will ask for her to be a part of the photography classes. Is that something that will bother you?"

I smiled and said, "No Professor. Traci and I have always been close, and she asked me to take those photos for her. It was the first time I had ever worked with a nude female model and the two of us connected on a whole new level while we worked together. I can see no reason that will be a problem for either of us. All I ask is that somehow the rest of the models and photographers not know that we are related."

The professor walked around the table and as he shook my hand, he said, "I can assure you that, as always, the models names are never revealed to any of the artist's or photographers. By the way, do you mind if I keep these proofs?"