Smoke Ch. 07

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A flat fish, a strange dinner and a lawfully wedded wife.
4k words
4.58
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4

Part 7 of the 7 part series

Updated 09/26/2022
Created 07/09/2011
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copyright by calibeachgirl and jim crowell

all rights reserved, 2011

*

Elliot was nervous; his hands shook enough his forkful of food slipped back onto the plate. He set it down. Things were not going well for the FBI agent.

Sophia looked at him, a wry smile on her face. "Something wrong, dear?" she asked. "You seem a little... pre-occupied." She toyed with her husband... a cat playing with a mouse.

"Uh... no... well, yes," he said. "I'm sorry that I asked you to go with Angie that evening. It was the biggest mistake possible." Just thinking of it made him shudder.

"You've already said that, dear. Why is it still bothering you?" 'Yes, indeed, dear husband, what's on your mind?' she thought to herself.

"You said on the phone..." 'Something truly scary,' he knew.

"Yes?" 'Yes, tell me, dear Elliot, what's on your mind.'

"You said that Angie wanted to do something." He took a sip of water. His mouth had suddenly become SO dry.

"Is that the only reason we're going to dinner? Doesn't seem so romantic, when you look at it, that way..." She put down her own fork, still laden with halibut. The tartar sauce dripped away like her enthusiasm for the evening.

"No, no, no... it's not like that. I just didn't want you to feel... neglected, that's all." 'Was it always this hot?'

"That's all? Thanks a lot, Elliot." She folded her napkin and slowly set it on the table. "I'd like to go home, now."

"But..."

"But, what?" She started to get up.

"Please, please, let's stay. I'll make it up to you. I'm sorry... Jesus, it's just this case has really got me worked up for a lot of different reasons, that's all."

Still not mollified, nevertheless, she still sat back down. She knew how important the case was to him.

"Sophia, not only is this case important for the country, but for us, as well. We'd get to stay here, permanently. You know that."

She stared at him, still angry... at both him as well as herself. That evening had frightened her; how easily she had fallen into a single-woman's frame of mind. How easily she enjoyed that man's attention. She tried to remember his name but couldn't... 'did it really matter?' she wondered.

"Sophia, what can I do to make this up to you?"

The magic words every woman wants to hear tumbled from his mouth before he even understood the import of what he said.

**********

Angie opened the post office box and took out the flimsy blue air-mail letter from Italy. The colorful Vatican City stamps would have gladdened any collector but she was more interested in what was inside the letter. Why her handlers didn't use regular US mail was beyond her. They could have mailed it from the Washington area if they actually thought about what they were doing. Overseas mail was always going to stand out, no matter where it came from and the beautiful stamps were going to attract attention from everyone who saw them.

"If Ivan is becoming such a hindrance, eliminate him," the letter said later as she decoded the message. "We expect a plan to be put into effect on the American holiday of Halloween for the greatest impact. Make it work."

She shuddered. As annoyed as she was with Al for his bungling trip to Las Vegas, she had no desire to kill him. If nothing else, he was an acceptable lover. He filled her insatiable need when she was too tired to go bar-hopping looking for someone more interesting.

Besides, from what she understood, there had been enough death in and around the apartment house already. Another mysterious killing or disappearance would bring too much attention from the local police.

'Maybe,' she wondered, 'I could say he went back East for something?'

She was beginning to have second doubts and third thoughts about her role in America. If she could find a way to stay and disappear, she wondered, could she forget about Russia and become a 'good' American? Would Al, or Ivan as she continued to think about him every time he made a huge error in judgment, go along or would he hinder whatever plan she could come up with? Would she have to kill him in the end, after all?

Restlessly, Angie waited for the small safety-deposit box to be unlocked. Finally, both keys were turned and the little door swung open. "Would you like some help with that," asked the teller.

"No, I've got it, thanks," Angie said, pulling the long, slim metal box out.

"All right, then, just let me know when you're ready and I'll be back."

Angie took the box into the small, adjoining room and closed the door. Quietly placing it down on the wooden shelf, she unlocked the small padlock and lifted the lid.

Passport after passport after passport... each carefully taken and checked.... American dollars... Canadian dollars... British pounds... French francs... cut diamonds and emeralds in little cotton bags...

A plan began to form in her devious little mind... a plan to stay in America, in warm Southern California far away from the snows of Moscow and Mother Russia.

'First, though, a few hundred to take care of some shopping...' There were some beautiful high heels and a dress she had seen in Beverly Hills, just in time for Cindy's wedding.

Watching Greg work around the apartment house and then running to the beach every few days or so had explained Cindy's reluctance to go bar-hopping with her. If she had Greg waiting at home for her, she wouldn't be out looking for a quick pick-up, either.

Angie pushed the coffee cup across the table. "You have to go... don't you understand? If you stay here, they're going to kill you. I've shown you the letter, what more can I do? I can get you ten thousand and you can move to another town, another state. They'll never find you, this is a huge country and they don't have all the records and controls like... like home."

He wasn't happy. He liked Southern California, even if he always had a scowl on his face. Admittedly, his huge error in Las Vegas had precipitated the situation further than he ever thought possible, but still...

"If you take a bus, there's no record and you're not wasting money on a car or you can get a used car for cheap. Please, Ivan, listen to me. I know I've been giving you a lot of grief but this is why."

Three days later, taking his false documents with him, he bought a three-hundred dollar car from a used-car lot in San Pedro and headed north toward San Francisco. Somewhere, he hoped, there would be a small town he could settle in with the American dream. The workers' paradise would have to happen without him.

**********

Elliot knelt on the rug, his wife's legs hanging over his shoulders as he kissed her once again. Sophia crossed her ankles, pulling his head forward between her thighs. He tried breathing through his nose as his face pressed against her but was forced to just open his mouth and take a big gulp of air before she could force his head down, again.

Her moans filled the bedroom as her hands grabbed his hair. Sophia's thighs squeezed against his ears and all he could hear was the rapid thump-thump of her heart as she shook once more.

"Stop... stop... stop..." she finally said, releasing his head from her grip. Her arms came back and collapsed onto the bed. He got up and moved onto the bed next to her. Her nipples were still solidly erect and he touched her left breast with his fingertip.

Sophia's nipple immediately tightened and became even more erect, something he never thought possible. His tongue soon replaced his fingers as he mouthed it, slightly sucking, gently touching with his teeth.

His left hand moved down between her open legs and caressed her gently. Sophia's hand moved down onto his and pushed it roughly against her body. "Aaaaah," she cried out in delight. She pushed two of his fingers deep inside and swirled them around. "Huh... huh... huh..." she whimpered.

Elliot moved onto her and slipped his body between her thighs. She grabbed him as he held himself against her, slid up and down twice and slid deeply inside with an 'ooof.' He waited only a moment before rocking back out and then plunged down, again, again, again.

Her legs now locking him in, he pushed quickly, trying to rub against her enough to bring her off once more. "Just do it," she sighed.

He could feel the pressure build and as the heat coursed through him, he pushed one last time as far as he could as he felt the thick liquid surge five, six times into his wife.

**********

Cindy looked out the window and quietly yawned. Her hand moved to her lover and caressed his face. "Mmffff," he mumbled, still asleep. She smiled. In less than a week, she would be Mrs. Gregory Knott. She was looking forward to the honeymoon. Although they had been sleeping together for months, the idea of a honeymoon made her grin from ear to ear.

Silently, she slid out from the warm covers and headed barefoot into the chilly bathroom. Looking into the mirror, she searched for wrinkles around her eyes. 'Nothing, so far,' she happily thought and turned on the shower. Soon, a foggy heat enveloped the room and she stepped in. Cindy slowly moved the washcloth on her body, eyes closed, pretending it was Greg touching her. She felt herself building to a climax when a shadow moved against the glass door and he stepped in.

"Let me help you with that," he said, huskily. He took the cloth from her and dropped it to the wet floor. Taking his hands, he used the soap to glide his fingers across her skin. She shivered under his touch.

"Oh..." she started to say.

"Don't speak," he said, continuing to touch her. He moved behind her and reached around her waist, his hands moving higher on her body until he cupped her breasts. He carefully pulled her against him so she could feel his excitement.

"Can you feel the heat?" he asked.

She reached back to his neck and pulled his head down. "Kiss me," she said.

"Where?" he asked and then laughed. "I'll go to the ends of the earth to kiss you."

"Shut up and kiss me."

"You've got to go, now? Can't you call in sick, or something?"

"You know I can't do that. Besides, I've got the rest of the week off. If you drive me down, I'll get you breakfast."

"Great. If I keep eating at Raymond's, I'm going to weigh two hundred pounds."

"Oh, I don't think there's any chance of that. I'll give you enough exercise."

"You're funny." He checked his watch. "I think there's time for some push-ups."

"You'll have to be quick, then. Just drop your pants and come here." She hopped up onto the kitchen table.

"Hey!" he laughed. "That's the... I eat..."

"I'll give you something to eat... c'mon, give it to me."

The table rocked enough that anyone would have thought a West Coast earthquake had rolled through the kitchen. "Ah, Jesus... whatever you do, don't stop."

Pulling into Raymond's parking lot with minutes to spare, Greg laughed as Cindy ran into the restaurant. Walking more slowly, he went in to have a very late breakfast. When he was done, he put a dollar down for Barbara, the waitress, waved at Cindy and left. Martine would give her a ride home, as usual.

He, on the other hand, was going to the pier to do a little fishing. "What a life," he said to himself as he drove toward Redondo.

A short while later, he was fighting a barracuda, hoping the line wouldn't break, when Elliot walked up and leaned against the railing next to him.

"Hey. How's the fishing?"

"Not bad, if you like barracuda. I was hoping for something else but these guys put up a good fight. What are you doing here?"

"Speaking of something else, have you seen Al?"

"No... I thought it was your job to keep an eye on him?"

"Yeah, well... somebody screwed up and we lost him."

"Are you going to pick Angie up, now? You better or she'll be in the wind, too."

"I know but she hasn't really done anything."

"So what? Grab her up and worry about it, later. If you don't..."

"Yeah, I know, she'll be gone. Do you think she'll stay for the wedding?"

"She said she'd be there, but maybe that's just talk. Wait a minute..." Greg grabbed his pole and wound his line in, finally pulling the aggressive fish up the side of the pier and against the railing. "Watch out, Elliot, those teeth are nasty. Get that net, will you?"

With the fish now on the pier's deck, he baited his hook again and cast out into the water. "I'm hoping for a nice, big halibut for dinner. Maybe, I could invite Angie over and sound her out, how's that?"

"Thanks. What's wrong with this fish?"

"For some reason, you get really sick if you eat them. Why don't you and Sophia join us, too? I'm sure Cindy won't mind. I'll give her a call when I get home."

"You looking forward to Friday? Getting married is a big step for anyone." Elliot looked out to the bay.

"Yes, although I'll admit I've been enjoying it for a while." Greg smiled.

"Don't let that spark disappear, my friend. It's interesting. Women, sex and love... it can be so damn confusing." 'How true,' he thought, realizing Sophia had controlled their love life ever since that night at the restaurant.

"God, I hope not... life is crazy enough as it is. Hey! I got another bite!" Greg yelled. He worked the line, playing the fish. "Oooohooo! It's a halibut and a big one, too! Get the net! Get the net! Don't you dare let it get away!"

A minute later, dinner was cooling in the ice chest.

"I'll see you, tonight, Elliot. Thanks."

"Honey, we're having guests for dinner. Can you bring some stuff home?"

"Guests? I was hoping for a quiet..." Cindy's disappointment was evident.

"Trust me, this is important," said Greg, carefully.

"All right... what do you want me to bring?" She sounded mollified.

"Everything but the fish. I got a big ole halibut at the pier."

"Wait a minute... Yes, how may I help you? Table for three? Yes, please follow me." He could hear the handset put down and the noises of the restaurant. "OK, I'm back," she said. "I've got an idea. I asked Joseph and he said it would be all right if you brought the fish over. He'd cook it for you and we'd bring the whole thing home afterward."

"Yeah, I can do that. Great... I'll be over as soon as I can."

Whatever fatigue Cindy had vanished as soon as she walked into the apartment. "Greg, the food is downstairs. Please bring it up. I'm going to take a shower and no, you can't join me, I'd never get anything done around here."

Greg went downstairs and started bringing up the hot dishes. He put them into the oven to stay warm, the chopped salad into the refrigerator and began to set the table. It had been a while since they had company for dinner and it would be a first with Elliot and Sophia.

Eight o'clock arrived soon enough with a knock on the door.

"Good evening, Elliot... Sophia. Thank you for coming." Greg was surprised. While Elliot wore dark slacks and a light blue shirt, Sophia was dressed very stylishly in a white blouse and an ankle-length black skirt with a 'harder' look to her face. 'Something,' he realized, 'has happened. But, what?' "Something to drink? I've martinis," he asked, smiling.

"Yes," Sophia said, "I'd love one." She left the two men standing near the door and walked to the window. "Your view is so much different up here. You can see the ocean."

"That's why I like it. If something opens up, I'll keep you in mind."

"Thank you." She turned back to the window and looked toward the night-darkened beach a block away. "A martini would be just right."

Cindy happened to walk in just at that moment. She was wearing a dark blue cocktail dress that reached just below the knees. The two women assessed one another. One, the now-worldly older woman from the capital greeted the other, an ingénue still surprised by the world despite her checkered past. If Sophia really knew Cindy's history, though, her appraisal would be much different. When it came to sex, it was Sophia who lacked the hard experience that Cindy had endured.

"Good evening, Sophia. How nice of you and Elliot to join us. I hope you like halibut. I understand that Elliot helped land the fish."

"Oh? That's interesting; he didn't mention that." Sophia looked at her husband, wondering what else he failed to mention. "Halibut will be wonderful. Greg, may I have another martini, please." She handed him her empty glass.

Surprised, Greg made her another.

"My God, this fish was fantastic. However did you do it, Cindy?" Sophia asked.

Cindy looked at Greg. "Well... I had it done at the restaurant. It was easier."

Sophia looked at the younger woman. "So much smarter, too. Congratulations. I've come to realize that a woman needs to face life and decide what SHE wants, not just some tired convention that seeks to hold us back." She took a look at her cocktail glass. "Greg, dear, could you get me another? I seem to be empty."

Greg looked at Elliot for guidance but then thought, 'what the hell, they live just downstairs; it's not like they have to drive home.' "Of course..."

There was a 'ding' as the kitchen timer finished counting down.

"I've got homemade chocolate chip cookies with ice cream," Cindy said, trying to change the tenor of the table. 'What is going on?' she wondered as she brought the hot cookies to the table.

"These," said Sophia, "are really, really good. Did you change the recipe?"

"Yes, Martine and I fooled around with it until we got this. We've been baking cookies and taking them to an orphanage every other Monday. It makes my heart cry to see all those kids with no parents. I suppose the nuns are filling in the best they can but, just the same..."

"That's too bad. Are there many children, there?"

"There's about sixty, I think. I've never actually counted. They don't hold still long enough."

"I wanted to have a child..." Sophia suddenly said, "...it just never seemed to happen. Do you think I could come out there, sometime... with you?"

Cindy was shocked. "I suppose so. I'd have to talk to Martine. They like to keep the children from being put on display like it's a circus or something. It took a while for them to accept me."

"Thank you, I'd appreciate that," Sophia said, wistfully. Elliot looked at his wife, mystified. She had never mentioned wanting a child. He wondered how he could be so oblivious of his wife's desires.

"Wow!" Greg said, later as he helped wash the dishes. "That was one crazy dinner. Boy, is she mad at him for something."

"I know. It's too bad. After you said they were coming for dinner, I was hoping for a nice time, but, like you said, 'wow'! You could feel the ice..."

"C'mere, baby. Whatever he did, I promise I'll never do."

"Oh, yeah? You better find out what he did before you go making promises, sweetheart."

"I don't care. There's no way I'm getting you that mad."

Cindy walked out of the bathroom, dropped her nightgown to the floor and pushing him back onto the bed, pulled his pajama pants off. "Let's see..." she said, reaching out and touching his already hard arousal. "Mmmmm,' she moaned, taking it to her lips and running her tongue around.

She opened her mouth and took him in; then, taking a deep breath, pushed her head down until he was touching her throat. She began to move her hand on it until she could feel the tension and then the warm liquid pulsed down her throat.

"Good night, baby."

"Good night, Cindy."

**********

Halloween Friday finally arrived. Raymond's was closed and the Wayfarer's Chapel overlooking Catalina was full. Frank Lloyd Wright's Glass Church, nestled above the Palos Verdes bluffs was the most romantic spot Greg could think of, even if it was over an hour's drive back to the South Bay beach towns.

The distance involved changed Martine's plans of using the restaurant and so they rented one of the large meeting rooms there.

Martine stood behind Cindy and stared into the mirror. She put her hands on the girl's shoulders.

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