Day 2 of 9 days

A sound night's sleep and the exciting prospect of an infusion into a waning bank account, brought me awake with a smile on my face. The sun was shining brightly, there was no wind and the livin' was easy. Nora snored softly into her pillow and I watched her for a few minutes with private pleasure over the fact that she was mine, then crept out of the room with care not to waken her.

There was no start and stop time for Nora at the law firm, she conducted meetings and made appointments according to her own extremely busy schedule. My schedule was similar except that my hours weren't all that busy, nor automatically paid for... a mere inconvenient difference.

We hooked up at odd times; it was certainly a different kind of marriage. Three and one half years into our bliss, little had been done to advance its standing. The apartment was slightly larger, there were no kids with none in the offing, and holidays if any came and went around Nora's schedule.

In spite of it all we have a solid relationship. It was an anchor we could both rely on when things dipped for any reason, and a shared past that bound us inextricably. I skimmed over past events and managed to shave around the grin without incident, shine my teeth and arrange my usually insubordinate hair into a semblance of order.

After selecting an ensemble from the remainder of my cleanest clothes, it was toast, juice, a note describing my intentions for the day, and a reaffirming of my devotion, before heading out the door.

I snapped the brim of my hat. Look out world, Christopher Wallace, private eye walks among you; my car was still in the garage because of the weird noise, and also needed gas.

●○●○●○●○●

Lawrence Bravo got up from his chair and crossed to the ringing phone on his desk. Out of the beaded glass windows, he watched as the sun filtered through the trees surrounding his backyard; a pheasant crossed the leaf-strewn lawn with quick, jerky steps, disappearing into the darkening shadows.

He was going to enjoy a long weekend, and on the first day the last thing he wanted was an early morning phone call.

"Lawrence Bravo here."

"Lawrence, it's Karen."

His jaw tightened at the first name usage, replying his hello rather snappishly.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, I called the office first. They said you weren't coming in today. I thought you should know what's been happening."

"Regarding?" He read the snarkiness in her statement, and his voice remained taut, answering in kind.

Regarding? What an asshole! "Reg Devers called me. He wanted to make me a proposal regarding my relationship with Jarmon."

Lawrence breathed noisily through his nose. "Go on."

The pheasant bobbed out of the trees and began a puzzled circuit of the yard.

"He suggested that, since I was already seeing Jarmon, I should put the squeeze on him to take our relationship public before the end of the month, and earn myself a tidy sum of money."

Lawrence shuffled some papers on his desk, his mind racing to calculate the ramifications of the information. Finally, he set the papers aside. "Karen, you and I have a deal. Your part is to assure that my daughter's marriage will default the terms of the trust."

"I know that, Lawr—"

"Time is getting short, Karen. I think that what I am offering in this circumstance far outweighs anything Mr. Devers might bring to the table."

"I know that. I'm just reporting what happened. Don't you think it's odd that Reg wants the same thing as you? I mean, why? What's in it for him?"

"I'll worry about Devers, you just do your job."

Karen pouted into the receiver. Miserable bugger, no wonder Cynthia despised him. Maybe this would shake his shit. "There's something else you should know," she continued with a malicious glee, "a detective came to see me at work asking if I was having an affair with Jarmon. He said he was working for your daughter."

She held back the fact that he had suggested it was not a secret, and enjoyed the sharp gasp, thinking that she might do well out of this no matter how it went.

Lawrence's head snapped up. "My daughter? What man?" His face turned scarlet, and he was relieved she couldn't see him.

"Uh, well... he uh, I think he said his name was Hollis or Wallace or something." She smiled and studied her nails, listening to his laboured breathing.

"He said he was working for Cynthia?"

"Yes sir."

"But why? I mean, what purpose?" He muttered rhetorically, slouching on the edge of the desk and pulling at his lower lip. "She knows very well that if he's caught cheating she forfeits the trust."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

"What do you think we should do?"

He stood again, tugging his smoking jacket into place and setting his head at a defiant angle. "We continue as planned, and as fast as possible."

Lawrence stared out his window absently, wondering what his daughter was up to, hiring a detective. It certainly wasn't to raise any flags over Jarmon's infidelity. And what of Devers? How did he imagine profiting from any of this? He turned from the window, eyes travelling across the contents of his home office, and nodded thoughtfully.

Cynthia was storing ammunition for after-ward. Shrewd little bitch. Behind him, a neighbour's dog put the pheasant to flight.

●○●○●○●○●

Julie's remark about her husband's fiddling of the books uncovered a startling fact. Not only had Reggie been siphoning money from the company, he'd done it, so far, to the tune of two-hundred and sixty-five thousand dollars. Carleton probed delicately around the business's finances only to be stunned, albeit with a growing admiration for Reg's creativity.

If he told Ellington, which was really the smart thing to do, they could expose Reg and point the finger at him for the loss of the trust's monies. Who would support him otherwise? Certainly not his gangster friends, and Ellington could just cluck sympathetically, shrug and walk away.

Still, there would be questions. Devers wouldn't just roll over. There would be an investigation and the chance the other trust secrets might come out. Too risky... personally.

His decision to keep an eye on Reg was indeed paying off, and at some point he just knew that this would be information that he and Ellington could fall back on. His monitoring method had been a shrewd choice, a risk, no question, but if he conducted it properly, he could profit from a little danger. Keeping one hand on his ripcord, and the other on Julie, Carlton sat pat.

She listened with growing amusement as he voiced his concerns around she and Reg. They had once again availed themselves of the privacy of the Dunbar; this time it was a breakfast meeting.

"After all, we don't want your hubby turning any tables, do we?" Carleton folded his hands behind his head, watching with a voyeuristic pleasure as Julie Devers slid into her pantyhose.

"He's too busy scrambling to save his ass from those bookies." She stepped into her skirt, tucked in her blouse, and zipped up, feeling for her heels at the same time. Carleton wet his lips as she bent to adjust the strap on one shoe.

"So you don't see a need for uhm- a little more discretion?"

"If that was really your concern you could have just discussed this on the phone last night, Carley."

"Well, I didn't want to catch Reg by mistake..."

"That's what I did, years ago."

Her sardonic reply was followed a scramble onto the bed for a kiss. "Don't worry about Reg. Besides, I don't think I could go without my big brown boy for any longer than I have been."

Carleton winced internally at the designation.

"When he phoned and suggested we get together at home, I told him I had an appointment. Your call right after that saved me from being a liar. I just flashed on your fine bare bones and ran panting all the way over here."

"And you're still here," he cooed, pleased at the ease with which she acquiesced. "What will Reg say about you being away all night?"

She poked him playfully and bounced back off the bed, gathering her purse and car keys. "Reg doesn't get to say anything about my coming and going... unlike you."

Carleton nodded and smiled as she swished across the room and out the door. He permitted himself a smug smile, enjoying the idea.