Two of a Kind

I had the feeling that if we did our job, we would shatter a very good man; possibly beyond recovery. I tried to think of a reason that we couldn't take the case. I thought about passing it to someone else, using my pregnancy as an excuse. I just needed to find a way to word it.

But for the first time ever, Chris accepted the case.

"We'll do our best," he said shaking Will's hand. I was shocked as he patted Will on the back. "Whatever she's doing, we'll catch her and get you proof."

"We'll check in with you on a daily basis," said Chris sounding exactly like me. "We always try to keep our clients in the loop."

As Will walked us back to the car, I didn't say much. Something just felt wrong. As soon as we drove away, Chris asked me what was wrong.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Sarah, I love you. And I know you," he said. "It's not like you to be so quiet. Normally you're the one who feels bad for the clients. You're usually the one who assures them that we can get the goods and ease their pain."

"Honey, this feels off," I said.

"Oh shit," he said. "Have you been talking to your cousin Savannah again? Whatever happened to my clinical, by the book, just the facts, detective wife?"

"What's wrong with Savannah?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said. "If you look past the fact that she's bat shit crazy."

"She is not," I said, knowing in my heart that he was right.

"Sarah, she forced a guy to marry her after suing him for paternity of a child that wasn't even his," he said.

"Nuh Unh," I said. "He married her because he loves her and they're the happiest people I know except for us. Savannah just has a persuasive nature about her and a gift for getting people to see things her way. Plus Savannah is partially psychic. Most of the women in my family are."

"Oh yeah," he said. "If Savannah is persuasive, then Evie is just nuts. I swear she's bipolar. And then there's your aunt Angela, who's either a full fledged witch or certifiably crazy. I'll let you pick the one you believe in. You're the only one who's sane, Honey. So don't start talking like Savannah."

I laughed and kissed him.

* * * * * *

Chris

As soon as I stepped off of the plane in L.A. I missed my wife. I missed my car almost as much. I'd originally thought about dropping in on Alex and borrowing one of his Mustangs but number one, I didn't plan on being here for that long. And secondly my mission here was all about stealth. There was no reason to alert everyone in the area that I was there. I didn't know very much about the people I'd be watching. But of course that would change and hopefully very soon.

I pulled out my iPhone as I stepped into the rental agency. I needed the automotive version of Wonder Woman's invisible jet. I needed a vehicle so stealthy that it would make me impossible to see or at least to notice.

Stepping up to the counter I smiled back at a young woman who stood there.

"Let me guess," she said. "You want a Camaro?" My eyes narrowed with the insult, but I maintained my smile.

"A Challenger SRT?" she asked.

"Sweetie, you're going backwards," I said.

"A Mustang GT-H?" she said excitedly. Then disappointment colored her face. "They're all out," she said. "They never stay on the lot for more than twenty minutes. That's why I offered you a Camaro. We've got a buy one day get two free on the Challengers."

"Actually, I had something different in mind," I said. She leaned in as if we were sharing a secret.

"I need a tan or gray Toyota Camry," I said. She looked at me as if I was joking. Then erupted in laughter. When she saw that I was serious, she stared at me again.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"I just asked for a..." I began.

"You don't look like a guy who'd get caught dead driving a car with so little personality that we keep losing them on the lot. Are you hiding from John Law or something?" she asked in a conspiratorial tone.

"Did you rob a bank? Are you undercover?" she asked. "What are you? CIA? FBI?"

I leaned across the counter and put my face very close to her ear. I could almost feel her body vibrating with excitement.

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," I whispered. She jerked her head back and smiled at me. She reached down into a drawer and have me a form to fill out.

After I was done filling it out. She looked at it. "Chris Harris," she laughed. "You might as well have written John Smith." she giggled and went over to a board on the wall and got a set of keys.

"Okay, Mr. Harris," she winked her left eye dramatically. "Here are the keys to your Toyota. Good luck finding it."

I walked out lf the office wondering if everyone in California was crazy. I walked out through the lot to the spot she told me the car would be in and didn't see it. I walked around the lot and came back. I had the right spot. Then I noticed exactly how well I had chosen. The car had been there all along, but it was so boring that I'd failed to notice it twice. It was like distinguishing Kentucky blue grass from any other variety of grass from a distance. The car just blended into everything. I would definitely remain unseen in that car.

I called the office and spoke to Sophia. Sophia was a new hire at the agency. But she'd already proved her value several times. Sophia didn't work in the field. She stayed in the office and handled Internet operations.

"Hey Soph," I said. "What do you have for me?"

"Well Chris, your fat friend, as usual, was half right. The guy's name is Hugh Joel Peters. And he is a producer. But only if you consider porn to be movies. If your friends wife is mixed up with him, he might as well go ahead and file because any woman who plays around with Hugh Joel Peters is going to get fucked."

"Alright, Soph, good work. Where can I find Hugh Joel Peters?" I asked.

"Usually in a senior citizen's pants," she said. "But most of them don't still work and you have to..."

"Ha ha ha!" I said. "Am I going to have to tell Sarah that you're sexually harassing me again?"

"No sir," she said. "Then I'd have to sexually harrassment her again too and you know I find her really sexy, but I just don't do pregnant, yuck!"

"Address please," I said through clenched teeth.

Using my iPhone as a GPS unit I got turn by turn directions to Peters' condo. Obviously he either wasn't getting a lot of money making porn movies, or he was spending it on something other than living space because the place would have to be renovated to count as a slum. I cased the place carefully, making sure that no one noticed me looking at it. At this time of the day, there was really no one about. The long black car from the video, a stretched Benz was parked in the back. The gleaming car told me that Peters did have SOME money. Maybe he was just careful what he spent it on.

The unit Peters stayed in was connected on both sides to the adjoining units. That meant that he could only get out through the front or the back. Since his car was parked in the back I chose to watch from there. I parked near the closest cross street. Since that would give me the best vantage point. To make tailing him easier, I placed one of my magnetic tags under his rear fender through the wheel well. The tag was synched with a locator app on my phone. I could follow that car anywhere and he didn't seem to have another one.

I walked back down the alley behind the house and got into my invisible Toyota. Luckily I had practiced finding it, but I had to look really hard to locate it because it blended in so well. I watched the back of the building for about an hour and nothing untoward seemed to be happening. After about an hour, I decided to take a closer look.

I crept back down the alley to the condo and leapt to the top of a big trash bin. From there I climbed to the second floor window of what had to be Peter's place. I looked inside of the window, being careful to make sure that no on could see me. Sarah hated it when I did things like this. She usually had me just plant a tiny camera and move back to the car. But that was a waste of time because those cameras were expensive and I'd just have to climb my ass back up here and get it later.

As I looked through the window I almost fell off f the ledge I was on. I quickly reached inside of my jacket pocket and pulled out my phone again. Hugh Joel Peters, was busy ramming his huge old Peter inside of Will's super model wife. And if she wasn't already making porn, she should have been.

Rebecca, as I watched attempted to get her lips around the head of Hugh's dick. She was holding it in both hands and trying hard to force her lips around it. Finally she gave up and pushed him back onto the sofa they were lying on. She mounted him and I was amazed as her pussy stretched to take in the giant organ. Slowly she slid down his huge greasy Batpole until their pubes met. Then she started grinding away at him. Her eyes seemed to roll back in her head as she moved her vagina up and down Hugh's pole.

"It hurts," she said with a grimace on her face.

"Just shut up and take it, bitch," he said. He slapped her tight, tiny little ass and she began to wiggle it even more. She leaned over and started kissing him as she moved her ass up and down porn star-like.

Hugh rolled her over and got on top of her. He spread her legs and lined up with her slot. He pushed his way inside of her slowly but forcefully. He pinned her legs back and started to fuck her in earnest. He gave her short rapid strokes at first and then started to really pound her. The look on her face was a mixture of emotions. I swear I saw pleasure, pain and disgust all at the same time. After a while of him sawing away at her, I could tell that her body betrayed her. Her legs closed around his waist and she began fucking him back vigorously as her orgasm neared. Her moans and his combined as they matched each other stroke for stroke. Sweat poured down their backs as she urged him onwards.

Suddenly, Hugh stiffened and tried to pull out. The effort of staving off his orgasm was immense. He had to force her to unclasp her legs.

"No!" she screamed. "Do it inside of me. I want it."

"Are you crazy?" he hissed. He ripped himself free of her and sprayed his semen over her small but prominent breasts and long tight tummy. He directed the last blast of it all over her pretty face. Her vagina stayed alarmingly agape after he'd removed his obscenely large organ from it. It resembled the reddened mouth of a hungry animal.

She jumped up and began trying to suck it again. This time it was his eyes that rolled backwards with pleasure as her nimble tongue lathered the head of his dick, scooping up the last traces of sperm.

"Oh baby you do that so well," moaned Hugh Joel. "On your knees," he yelled gesturing towards the couch.

"Please no," she whimpered. "That hurts too much!"

"If you're going to get used to it, we have to do it," he yelled. "And stop trying to tell me what I can and can't do. Who owns your ass?"

"You do," she said. I was having trouble making out the feelings behind her words, but one thing was sure. Hugh had some kind of leverage over her. Blackmail might have been the motive, but with all of Rebecca's super model money, I'd have thought that she could have easily paid off any blackmail attempts. Unless Hugh Joel simply wanted super model pussy more than money. Maybe it was both.

As I watched Rebecca slowly got down on the sofa with sweat dripping off of her glistening skin. She put her head down and her ass in the air and grit her teeth together as Hugh reached onto the coffee table for a tube of some sort of lubricant. He smeared it around her butt and on the head of his penis. Then he lined the huge organ up and slowly forced it into her tiny hole with her grunting and screaming the whole way.

"No," she screamed. "Stop. I can't take it."

"You say that every God damned time," he smirked, continuing to push himself forward.

"How the fuck did you get up there?" said a voice from behind and below me. "Are you some sort of ninja?"

I dropped silently back down landing without too much noise on the rim of the trash bin. Then I dropped onto the dirty ground of the alley.

I came face to face with a bum. As my eyes scanned his face, I could tell that for all of the dirt and grime that covered him, this guy wasn't a real bum. For one thing the dirt and oil on his face was in random spots. It didn't cover most of or all of the face as it would have on a genuine homeless guy. For another, the face beneath the fake grime was clean shaven. How many bums shave?

Even more evidence to support my theory was the clothes he wore. They were torn and disheveled but they didn't stink.

"Who are you?" he asked. "Where you learn to move like that?" As he leaned towards me, I lurched drunkenly off balance. His reflexes betrayed him as he reached out to try and steady me, thinking I was about to fall. I turned the momentum of my seeming fall into a powerful kick that caught him in the stomach and lifted him off of his feet. He landed on his back painfully besides the trash bins.

"Holy fuck," he moaned to no one. "It's been years since I saw that shit." he was talking to no one though and slow to get to his feet. As he took off on the direction he'd seen me run he was still unsteady on his feet. By the time he emerged from the alley, I was lying down on the floor of my invisible Toyota's back seat covered by a blanket. I watched him through a slit in the dark blanket as he looked in both directions finally shaking his head and walking away.

Even as I watched him walking back down the alley rubbing his sore hip, I smiled. I stayed in the back seat and pulled out my phone. I emailed the video to Sophia and told her to relay it to Sarah.

I climbed into the front seat of my Toyota and started the motor. I was nearly in an accident. The car coming down the street jammed on its brakes and narrowly avoided hitting me, as I pulled into traffic. I was so used to my Mustang's quick acceleration that the Toyota's anemic lack of power and slow take off, caught me by surprise.

Several times as I drove down the broad California avenues, I was tempted to get out and walk or simply flog the car to get it to go faster. I had to force myself to remember that I'd chosen the car for stealth not speed.

An hour later, I was sitting at the bar of the hotel I'd picked to use as a base. I'd ordered a Dos Equis Amber to celebrate getting the evidence on Rebecca.

My phone chirped beside me. I picked it up and answered it knowing who it was.

"Hey Honey," she said. I could feel the emotions behind the same phrase across all of the miles that the phone lines and cell towers spanned.

"I love you, Sarah," I gushed. "I couldn't help it."

"Love you too," she said. I felt that too. "Good job!" she said. "I guess being pregnant has slowed me down. Maybe it just made me stupid. I watched Rebecca last night until long after dark. Like we agreed on, Will pretended to go out of town on a sudden business trip, leaving her alone. Maybe she knew she was being watched and slipped out the back way, but I swear I never saw her leave the house, let alone fly to California. It's a good thing we're a team...oh and Chris...I forgive you."

I was suddenly on edge, knowing she was up to something.

"You forgive me for what?" I asked.

"For shooting your stuff in me and getting me pregnant, just so you could crack the case instead me," she quipped. I could feel the mirth and the warmth in her voice.

"What can I do to make it up to you, Honey?" I asked, playing along with her.

"Do it again," she gushed. "Chris, Honey, this case is over. I miss you. You can come home. All we have to do now is break the bad news to Will. He's going to fall apart. He really loves that whore."

"Been there, done that, got the T-shirt," I said. "Maybe I should be the one to tell him."

"Why?" she asked. "I'm the actual detective. You're just my bumbling, lovable flunky."

"Someone is going to get her delectable ass spanked as soon as I get home," I hissed. "I'll give you flunky."

"You promise," she cajoled.

"Seriously, Sarah," I said. "I really think that I can explain this one better. I can tell him how I felt when I went through what he's going through now. I can explain to him how even though he feels like it's the end of the world. It actually might be the very best thing that ever happened to him. I know it was for me."

"How was that good for you?" she asked. "Chris you were miserable, Honey. Don't you remember?"

"Yes Sarah, but it's also how I met you," I said. "And any pain I went through was more than worth it for what you make me feel every day."

"Awww, somebody has some pregnant pussy waiting for him," she gushed. "Just hurry up and get your ass home...Oh shit!"

"Sarah, are you okay?" I yelled.

"Yeah, Honey," she said acidly. "I'm fine. You were definitely right. The bitch must've slipped by me. She just pulled back in driving a car I didn't even know they had. She has on a pair of shorts and a long T-shirt. She even has a couple of bags of groceries, like she just hopped out to the supermarket, grrrrrrr."

"Sarah, why are you growling?" I laughed.

"Because I hate to admit that you were right about all of this. I am definitely not psychic. I have to remember to go by the facts like I always have. I am definitely not like Savannah or my Aunt Angela."

"But at least you're not crazy and bipolar like Evie either," I laughed.

"Evie is the sweetest girl ever," hissed Sarah.

"Yeah until she nuts up," I said.

"She only nuts up as you put it when some woman gets too close to Chance," said Sarah. "She loves him. And for your information, if some skank started trying to move in on you, I might make Evie seem perfectly sane, now get your ass home."

As I hung up the phone that innate sense of warning that had been drummed into me as a child went off. I scanned the bar and didn't see or sense any immediate threat but I was wary. Before I crossed the bar headed towards the door my gaze lingered on a big guy with his back towards me. I stopped two tables away from him. The bar wasn't busy so there was no one between us.

He sat there drinking his beer and I noticed that he had another one unopened on the table beside him. It was my brand.

"I don't always drink beer..." I said loudly.

"According to my sources you fucking do," he sneered. "And you always drink Dos Equis."

"So you have pretty good sources," I said. "Should I get ready to rrrruuuummmmmbllllllllllllle?"

"Let's not," he said. "My ass still hurts from the first time. I was hoping we could sit down and talk about this, sonce we're kind of working the same case but from different angles. And you need to know you're wrong. You're about to fuck up some people's lives and really badly if you don't listen to me."

There was this almost John Wayne-like nobility about those bloodshot gray eyes. I'm really good at reading people, so I decided to at least listen to him. If I didn't like what he had to say, or he tried to stop me from leaving, I could always put him on his ass again."

* * * * * *

Clyde

As I watched, the young man in front of me moved over to my table and settled almost bonelessly into the chair across from me. He grabbed the beer by the cap. At the same time he smiled at me and fiddle with his phone. And then made a big show of showing me that the phone was turned to vibrate so we's be undisturbed. As he settled down I tried to very stealthily move the gun I'd been aiming at him under the table back into my hidden holster, so he wouldn't notice the movement.

"That's not very nice," he said, leveling his cool blue eyes at me. The look he gave me and the tone of his voice let me know that he'd noticed what I'd done. There would be no surprising this one. The very coolness he exhibited scared the shit out of me.