Revenge is Best Served Cold

Revenge is Best Served Cold

soppingwetpanties

Another story featuring our favorite hard luck detective, Max Pemberton. This story also features her girlfriend Lehka, as some of the chapters are written from Lehka's viewpoint. This story will get very dark and violent so don't expect rainbows and unicorns. It made me cry when I made my final read. If you're looking for something more uplifting, try "Finding Grace" or "The Perfect Season" from my story list.

This story contains the background you need to read this as a standalone story, but will have greater meaning if you read Betrayal and Loss of Innocence.

Thank you migbird for your insights and comments.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.

Please vote and leave a comment. I love feedback.

Prologue

Hi, I'm Maxine "Max" Pemberton. In this story I was in my early 40's. Still had the semblance of a figure with a very large bust and wide hips. I was a big gal by any measure and not afraid to throw a punch.

I was a tomboy when I was a girl but upon coming of age I had attention getting breasts. The attention was for the most part unwanted and uncomfortable. I met Jim Pemberton when I was at the University of Cincinnati. Jim was in my Criminal Justice class and wasn't like the other guys who were interested in me. Jim and I had long discussions about the criminal justice system and how to make it better. It's not to say he wasn't aware of my body, but I didn't think it wasn't as important to him as it was to others. My opinion was important, and I respected him for that.

A two year platonic relationship became more than that my junior year of college. We got married a year later. The fizzle went out of the marriage relatively quickly, as my disinterest in sex was incurable. Being a cop on a cop's schedule didn't help. We suffered through ten years before calling it quits.

I grew up in a tough neighborhood of Cincinnati. Being gay was a ticket to isolation, ridicule and worse. I didn't challenge my sexual identity until I was well past twenty. Being heterosexual was assumed. I just assumed that I just didn't have as strong a sex drive as most people. It wasn't until I saw a naked woman, and was aroused by it, that I questioned whether I was gay. Having sex with a woman confirmed my suspicion.

This story takes place about midway through my career. I should have been at the top of my game (but wasn't). I had learned valuable and hard lessons about abusive relationships, political and police corruption, and addiction (my own and others). My Achilles' heel was drinking. I was and am an alcoholic. It's a demon that sometimes gets the best of me. The results are always disastrous.

A bit of background if you haven't read Betrayal and Loss of Innocence.

At that time I was hard luck Max. My longtime girlfriend (who happened to be my partner on the force) dumped me for a younger and more beautiful sweet, young thing. Predictably, I got immediately drunk and really didn't stop for several months. It almost ended my career.

My former partner was murdered by a drug lord while I was struggling with my drinking. In the process of chasing the culprit, I befriended Brianna, a prostitute who I wanted to rescue. She overdosed, and her death sent me into another tailspin.

My long-time professional partner and friend, Lehka Singh, an attractive woman of Indian descent, helped me through that tough time. In the process, our feelings for each other came out. Lehka was on a six month temporary reassignment from Columbus to Cincinnati. We lived together for a good part of that time, trying to see if it was an arrangement we wanted to make permanent. Of course I fucked it up. It started to unravel when I tried to leverage my relationship with the Mayor's chief of staff, Heather Murtaugh, to obtain funding for surveillance on Olek Shevchenko, a Ukrainian crime boss, holding down the Cincinnati area for a Detroit-based gang, for the kidnapping of four Guatemalan women. All the available evidence pointed to a rival Columbian gang, but I had a hunch that Shevchenko had planted the evidence to throw us off his trail. I turned out to be right, but still royally pissed off Lehka for ignoring the orders of Captain Sheehan and getting blinding drunk with Heather (who happened to be a drop dead gorgeous blonde).

Although we rescued the kidnapped women, the perp, Shevchenko, got away. That wasn't before my partner Lanny Townsend fired a round at Shevchenko through a car window. The glass changed the trajectory of the bullet so it missed him, but the thousands of shards of glass didn't, and peppered his face. We now had a man of pure evil who was disfigured beyond recognition and bent on exacting revenge for his living death sentence. And so we begin this stormy tale...

Chapter One

Where's Olek?

Lanny and I knew Olek Shevchenko was looking for us. After all, it was Lanny's bullet that caused a shower of glass shards to lodge into the side of the Ukrainian's pretty face. We had captured his safe house, his cash, and two of his trusted lieutenants, so we had him on the run. The last time he was sighted was at Syd's, a dive bar in the West End, the toughest neighborhood in Cincinnati. As part of my deal with Syd, in exchange for valuable information that helped us recover four kidnapped Guatemalan women, I helped facilitate a favorable parole decision for his wife Charlene. Even with that help, there was still no love lost between the two of us.

My longtime partner Lanny Townsend tagged along when I decided to pay Syd a visit. His neighborhood looked worse than the last time I was there, if that was possible. A vacant lot next to the bar now harbored a refrigerator with the door taken off, and a rusted washing machine with tall weeds growing out of it, in addition to the usual assortment of junk piling up in it. It was late morning with a light misting rain, and there were a few regulars hunched over a shop worn Formica-topped bar nursing their drinks. The bright light from the open door attracted their attention and Syd's. He was not pleased to see us. His wife was leaving the storeroom in the back carrying a case of beer. I could hear the clatter of bottles being moved in the storeroom.

"Hey shitbird, how is it having your main squeeze back?" I asked him.

I prided myself on my good manners. That was about as nice as I got with Syd.

He scowled at me. "What do you want?"

"Shevchenko."

"Haven't seen him," he fired back right away.

"Let's see what Mrs. Shitbird has to say." I called over to her.

She came up to the bar and dropped a case of beer on the counter with a thud. She wiped her hands on a grimy bar towel.

"Who's talking?" she asked.

We'd never had the pleasure of meeting before, though I'd seen her mug shot in her file. From her rap sheet she was in her late forties, but the wear and tear of a hard life, and prison, made her look ten years older. Her face and gravelly voice also said she was a hard drinker and chain smoker.

"Max Pemberton, your guardian angel," I told her cheerily.

"How so?"

"I'm the one who put in the good word at the parole board about Syd's cooperation. If it wasn't for me, you'd still be sweating in the prison laundry and having pleasurable girl on girl sex."

She scowled at me. Must run in the family. The wrinkles on her face had wrinkles.

She pursed her lips at me.

"Fuck you."

Apparently Mr. and Mrs. Shitbird had the same opinion of me.

"That's not a very nice thing to say to an angel."

"You're not an angel. You're the devil," she spat out.

"Well, well, no need to get nasty. I just want to know the last time you saw Olek Shevchenko. You know. Big, burly, heavy accent, half his face missing."

"Never seen him."

"Now Charlene. It wouldn't be good for you to lie to me. After all, you're only out on parole. Harboring a known felon certainly wouldn't be viewed favorably by the parole board. They'd revoke your parole and..."

I put my tongue between two fingers in the shape of a "V" to give her a graphic illustration of what she'd be doing if she went back to prison.

She paused for a second and then looked at Syd, unsure of what to do. Her husband rolled his eyeballs.

"Saw him, maybe a couple weeks ago."

Apparently she wasn't naturally a lesbian.

"Do you know where he is now?"

"Haven't a clue."

I reluctantly believed her so I decided to pursue a different tact.

"Lester still working for you?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"What time does he come in?"

"Never know. Whenever he feels like it."

"Mind if I take a look around?"

"Got a warrant?"

"I'm just a customer. Lanny. Ask Uncle Syd to get me a Coke."

I left them and walked to the back. The storeroom door was closed. I pushed it open. Lester was crouched in the corner behind several cases of beer. He would have been pathetic at hide and go seek.

Lester was a lowlife druggie who always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I knew he was an errand boy for Shevchenko. I shook him down for information on the killer of my former partner, Rachel Tompkins. I even got to visit his mother when I was looking for him. She was an attractive divorcee who lived in a ritzy suburb of Cincinnati and couldn't bring herself to wash her hands of her dirtbag son. Lester figured he could always hit up his mother if he was truly desperate. Her mother happened to provide me a valuable clue in the rescue of the Guatemalan women, so you never know what's going to come up when you cast a wide net.

He sprung up like he was on a pogo stick and shoved me aside, flinging the back door open and dashing across the parking lot. Lanny saw him and put down my Coke and ran after him.

Lester ran track in high school. But years of drug abuse can hurt your lap times, so I put my money on my partner in this race. I went back to the bar and started drinking my Coke. A few minutes later Lanny returned dragging Lester in by the collar of his shirt. They were both winded. Lester had a good sized angry red scrape on the side of his face.

"I guess Lester needs to brush up on the high hurdles," Lanny said. "Tried to jump over a pile of tires in the vacant lot next door and caught his foot. Did a face plant into some gravel."

That much was obvious when I watched Lester brushing rocks and dirt off his face and sucking some serious air.

"Hey Lester, good to see you again."

"Fuck off Max," he said between gulps of air.

"Looks like everyone here needs a refresher course at charm school," I observed to all who were watching, including some gawking customers.

I grabbed him by the collar. Lanny let go. I was much taller (and much more fit) than the little fucker. I pulled his scrawny body up so his feet were barely touching the floor.

"You get one chance Lester. Then I'm taking you to the station."

"What for?"

"Resisting arrest for one. Dealing in stolen goods for another."

"You've got nothing on me."

I noticed when I first saw him that he was wearing an expensive watch. Must have just stolen it. I let go of his collar and took the watch off his wrist. I looked on the back of the watch.

"To Eric, Love Jess."

I dangled the watch in front of his face so he could read it.

"Recent name change Lester? And is Jess a guy or a girl? You've haven't gone all gay on me, have you? They don't apparently like people like me and you at this place."

"I found it," he sputtered.

"People have a habit of leaving Rolexes laying in the street?"

"What do you want?"

"Shevchenko."

"C'mon Max. He'll kill me."

"I guess we're going to take you to the station and book you. Then I'm going to go to visit your mother and tell her what a bad boy you've been."

"Leave my mother out of this."

"Shevchenko."

"I don't know where he is."

"Find out. Lanny and I will be back here tomorrow. Lester, you know that I can find you."

He pulled away from me. I gave the watch to Lanny. "Let's see if the folks in Stolen Property can find Eric... or Jess."

"Sure boss." Lanny admired the watch and then pocketed it.

"I'd give you a receipt Lester, but I forgot to bring one."

"Fuck off Max."

"Now that's the first sensible thing you've said today." I followed Lanny out the front door and left it wide open.

* * *

Lanny and I got back to the station after our little shakedown at Syd's. We went to Lehka's office to fill her in. Cap had put Lehka in charge of finding Shevchenko. Lehka was assigned a temporary office in the station's annex, right around the corner from Maddy Barnes, the research analyst who was working in Vice.

Maddy was returning from the coffee room with a cup of coffee and a big smile on her face after seeing Lanny and me. Lanny had proposed to her, the only time he'd ever proposed to one of his many girlfriends. She turned him down, but they held no grudges and remained good friends.

I loved everything about her. Her effervescent personality and quick wit. Her designer glasses. The hip clothes she draped over a very curvy body. Maddy had no lack of male (or female) attention. Alas, she was too young for me.

Maddy's coffee smelled great. My nose followed her to her desk.

"Where's the coffee from Maddy?" I asked suspiciously. It smelled way too good to be from the station's coffee pot.

She offered me a sip. It was delicious; bold, dark, without a bite, with a fine layer of cream colored foam on top. Being that I was a detective, I offered up my reasoned conclusion.

"All right Maddy, where's the Nespresso machine?"

She smirked. "Break room closet. Only Cap and I have keys."

Fucking Cap Sheehan had been holding out on me! She and Maddy bought a machine together and never told me.

"Learn to share Maddy. It's the polite thing to do."

She shook her head. "Around here? Never. You assholes would drink all of our coffee without replacing it." She had the key to the closet on a chain around her neck. She dropped the key down the inside of her blouse and then pointed to it lodged between two very succulent breasts.

"Looks like you're going to have to dig for the key."

"Don't tempt me Maddy," I warned her. Maybe she wasn't too young for me.

"All bark and no bite Max."

She gave me a dazzling smile.

"I hear you're looking for Shevchenko. Any luck?"

"Not yet," I replied, trying to take my focus off her delectable breasts, "though we're shaking the trees and seeing what falls out."

"I haven't heard any chatter. He's pretty much gone underground since your shooting."

Shevchenko had tried to shoot one of the refugees, a helpless young mother. My leg got in the way when I dove in front of her. No one I knew had seen Shevchenko since took a face full of glass, though word on the street was that the left side of his face looked like hamburger. I recovered from my wounds. He never would. Boo fucking hoo.

"That's where all the burrowing animals belong... underground. Any ideas where to look?"

Her eyes rolled to the side behind her cute designer glasses. "I imagine you've tried Syd's and Kolba's, am I right?"

Kolba's was a Ukrainian restaurant he used to frequent. We'd had surveillance on it ever since Lehka started her manhunt.

"Nope. Nothing. I did shake down Lester."

Maddy laughed. "That perv? I saw him once at the station. Gave me the creeps."

"Don't tell his mother that. She still polishes his track trophies."

"Sorry I couldn't be of more help." She turned in her swivel chair so she was facing Lanny. "Dating anyone?"

"I've got a thing or two working. But none of them measure up to you."

It was good to see former lovers could remain friends.

* * *

We left Maddy's cubicle and went into Lehka's office. She was concentrating on what looked like a complicated Excel spreadsheet, probably for Sheehan. The door was open so I knocked on the door jamb. She swiveled around in her chair.

"Max, Lanny." She waved us into her office.

She always looked fabulous. Today was no exception. She had her long dark hair up in a twist. Her cocoa colored skin had a healthy glow. Her uniform was crisp and clean and couldn't hide the voluptuous body underneath it. Seeing her reminded me again that I missed her terribly. I was still living in my seedy motel, the Royal Palms, banished to the hinterlands until Lehka deigned me with a "get out of jail free" card. She was still smarting from me falling off the wagon (again) and flirting with the Mayor's gorgeous chief of staff, Heather Murtaugh, the viper (Lehka's description, not mine). As usual I was my own worst enemy.

She interlaced her fingers and placed her hands on her desk. "So tell me, what do you have on Shevchenko?"

Lanny looked at me to go first.

"Not much," I told her. "We shook down Syd and his wife Charlene. It's been fruitful in the past and I'm hoping one of them will come through."

Lehka chuckled. "You provided a favorable character reference for Charlene at her parole hearing."

"It pained me, but I did it," I admitted. "Syd did come through with the key tip."

"You almost always keep your promises," Lehka recited. The "almost" hurt. She was undoubtedly referring to my pledge to quit drinking again, a pledge I not only broke, but crushed.

I just nodded my head. More words would just get me in more trouble.

"What else?" she asked.

"We did shake down Lester as well. We've got Maddy beating the bushes, and we're about to make the rounds again to roust our CI's. He can't hide forever."

Lehka let out a long sigh. "He seems to have done a pretty good job on his vanishing act. Do we need to put more resources on it?"

She knew questioning my slow progress would get my back up.

"Not at all. If he's out there, we'll find him," I assured her.

"I'll give you a bit more time." She said it as if I was on a short leash. Then she remembered something as we were about to leave. "Oh yeah, Cap wants to see you."

I waved Lanny ahead and went around the desk to Lehka's side.

"It's been a week in Hell not being with you," I told her.

She gave me a sad face. "Maybe you'll think about it next time you want to get intimate with a bottle of cheap vodka."

It was too much to see her every day and not have her. "Please Lehka, give me another chance... dinner tonight?"

I got a begrudging smile. "Nicky's?" she asked.

"Dinner at seven. We can leave the station at 6:45."

She kissed me on the cheek.

"I still love you Max."

I got close enough that my lips were touching her ear. "You know I want you," I whispered.

* * *

I left Lehka's office feeling good. It had been a week of torture living apart, biding my time in the Royal Palms and not trying to think about Nigel and the counter he manned at the all night liquor store. But Lehka was giving me a second chance. This, I told myself, was not to be fucked up.

Lanny was waiting outside the office, leaning against the wall. I'm sure he heard most of what was said and could guess the rest.

"So you and Lehka hooking up again?" he casually asked. Of course everyone at the station was wondering the same thing. Lehka had upped and quit during the Shevchenko debacle so everyone knew we had split up. It took me getting shot to bring her back. I knew Lanny was a regular at Nicky's and figured he would no doubt see us anyway.

"Yeah, she's feeling generous to me. Dinner tonight at Nicky's. Keep it under your hat partner."