3Lifting the remote, Red muted the tv as he reached for his incessantly ringing phone. "That fucking thing is the bane of my existence." The man made mention but no one seemed to be listening. Least of all, the woman sitting by his side on the massive divan upon which he reposed.
"Must you answer that?" Liz glanced at the ornate clock gracing the South wall of their home. Her pretty brow puckered critically. "I was just getting comfy," she snuggled back against the man' shoulder, "and it's late."
"Ressler said he might call once he got the ballistics back on–"
"Yes, yes," Liz grumbled. "I remember." she rolled expressive eyes. "It's always something." She muttered beneath her breath, but the man heard, holding his amusement for her mood.
Glancing at the screen, Red's brows lifted slightly, noting the Nevada prefix staring back at him.
Flipping the phone open, his eyes instantly mellowed, a soft voice from his past filtering caressingly into his ear.
"Well, as I live and breathe." Red Reddington was surprised and nothing much surprised the man these days, in truth. "Lady Heather. How long has it been?"
"Who's that?" Liz sat up, something in the man's tone alerting her to... something. A certain something, she wasn't sure she liked. "Lady...who?"
"Of course I'm free. What do you need, lovely lady?" Red purposely ignored his new wife, keeping his amusement in check. "You know I will always be available to you."
Liz's brow furrowed even more so for the overly familiar words and manner her new husband was exhibiting.
"Excuse me?" Liz scowled, pretty sure she didn't like this new caller. Whoever the hell she was.
More so, it was way late. Who would be so rude to call at such an hour and why wasn't the man next to her annoyed...as annoyed as she was getting to be?
Red's amusement faded as the conversation moved forward. "What are talking about? The man is dead, Heather. You know that." He listened politely for a long beat. "You're shitting me." He made a half-choked laugh in his throat, sitting up straighter in bed. "Well, I'm sure it's just a coincidence, but I'll fly out tomorrow first thing. See you about five? Vegas time?"
He grinned. "Oh, yes, I forgot." His voice lowered in pitch. "You'll be waking up just about then. Ten work better?"
Clenching his jaw, Red smothered a gurgling laugh when his wife glared his way.
Nodding, he softened his tone to a soothing one, hoping to appease both females. It didn't seem to work, however.
"Don't concern yourself over what could be nothing. We'll figure this out." He suggested gently. "Not gonna let anyone interfere with you. Have I ever?"
Liz's mouth dropped agape for the tenderness exhibited by the man. She watched him closely, trepidation the order of the day. Who the hell was this woman, she could elicit such a response from Red Reddington?
"Be careful until I get there." He concluded. "Better yet," he glanced at the clock himself, "Chuck is flying out of LA tonight. I'll reroute him to your location to keep an eye on you and your ladies, alright?" He assured.
The man listened again, then smiled. "Yes, always. See you tomorrow, sweetheart." Hastily clearing his throat, he stifled a burst of threatening laughter when his wife jerked upright. Crossing her arms over her ample chest, her narrowed eyes fixated on his head. Not a good sign.
"Take care, Heather." He gently hung up the phone, pensively staring off into space afterwards.
"Do you have a death wish?" Liz asked, her tone a dangerously deceptive one to his way of thinking.
Red chuckled. "She's an old, old friend, baby." He lost his mood, turning to the woman. "She thinks she's in trouble. She may be right." Sighing lightly, he pulled Lizzy closer, tucking her lovingly against his side. "In all the years I've known her, I've never once seen Heather get rattled by anything." He confessed. "Whatever's going on has her scared, and that's concerning to me."
"When you say old," Liz asked hopefully, "you mean, wrinkled and aging, right?"
Chortling quietly, Red gave Elizabeth his undivided attention. "Oh, no, baby. That's not what I mean at all."
Red chuckled again, giving over his entire attention. He bit his lower lip cautiously, considering his next words carefully. "Heather isn't old, not by a long shot. She's really one of the most beautiful women I've ever met."
"Oh, glad to hear it." Liz brightened amiably. "Give me the phone, will you? I want to call Baz."
Red frowned superficially. "What for? He's in New York."
"I'd like to ask him to fly back... for your funeral." Her smile brightened further. "After I have him kill you for me, of course."
Red's chuckle returned. "Jealousy becomes you, wife." He said, placing a loving kiss on her sweet pout.
"I'm not that." Liz denied vehemently. "You wish, soon-to-be dead guy."
Laughing, Red rolled to his side, his look a suggestively sensual one. "How about I go down on you?" He lowered meaningful eyes to his point of interest. "If I showed you a really good time, would that waylay my demise, do you think?"
Settling somewhat, Liz carefully mulled the proposition over. "Well," she ignored the large hand caressing her hip more than suggestively. "You're not gonna be thinking of this woman while you're down there, are you?" Her blue eyes lifted, ready to be annoyed again.
Inching the jersey material of the sweat pants down Lizzy's body, Red revealed the soft skin in delicious increments until the dark patch between her legs became visible. He helped her wiggle out of those pesky pants, his attention focused and direct on the succulent prize he had uncovered. He threw the soft material aside.
"I give you my solemn vow," he slid his palm down the silky smoothness of her thighs, parting them with ease, "I'll keep my mind on the business at hand."
Rolling to her back, Liz sighed happily. "Well, okay then." She settled in for the duration. "Just make sure you do that, then."
CSI/TBL
Jim Brass was feeling his age these days.
Not that he would ever admit it, of course. If asked, he would probably say, 'old' was just a state of mind. Or some such bullshit.
Refocusing his attention, he scanned the scene before him with the eyes of a trained observer. It was what he was paid to do, after all.
Glancing about, he shook his head at the developing scene behind the taped off section of the street. What was it about Vegas that attracted all the loonies?
They had enough crazies wandering the streets, they really didn't need to transport more in.
This part of the Strip never failed to enchant him in some way, however.
Farther down, to his right, homeless vagrants scoured trash bins or scoped out places to crash for the night. A few of the more brave tweakers subtly pulled at car door handles, hoping some naive tourist left their vehicles unlocked so they might score their next fix.
To his left, sets of harried looking parents attempted to corral a group of children hyped up on sugar. The expressions on their faces spoke of regret and defeat.
What did they expect, bringing their children to Sin City? A town that never slept, nor rested...this was no place for kids. Well, not this part of town, anyway.
A sudden burst of girlish giggling shook Brass from his musings. He rolled his eyes as a group of glittered covered young women rushed past him and dropped into a practiced huddle. Throwing their arms into a flourishing post, they stood stick still before the bored photographer, smiles plastered on their overly made up faces.
Having encountered a hundred other groups just like these, the photographer attempted a slight joviality, but the effort quickly fell away. Glancing to the unfolding drama beside them, which included lots of police milling around... then back to the subject of his 'portrait', the guy shook his head wearily.
"I get it, man." Brass muttered to himself, understanding the picture- takers' disbelief anyone could be so unaware of the activity taking place around them.
The problem was, Brass knew...most were aware a death had occurred just a few feet from their frivolity, they just didn't care. If it didn't involve them, it didn't concern them. They just hoped the couple dozen law enforcement vehicles with their flashing lights would blend enough with the magical ambiance that was Las Vegas to insure their keepsake photo wasn't tarnished.
Brass had long become accustomed to how callous people could be, especially if it meant anything interrupted their vacation.
As long as visitors remained focused on petting the dolphins and playing the slots and didn't kill anyone in his city... he didn't care what the hell they did, one way or other. He was just as jaded, he realized as those he now condemned.
Brass just hoped the Stratosphere served as a decent enough backdrop to detract away from the body not even thirty feet away.
Leaning against the roof of his car, he watched Gil Grissom do this thing.
How many crime scene investigations had they lived through, he wondered? Too many. He knew.
This one was bothering him. Something about it, nagging at his conscious. It was just an accident, however. Some poor woman fell to her death from atop the Stratosphere.
Sad, yes. Tragic, of course. Unusual? Not so much.
He alone had run point on three fall related deaths in just the past three months. One from a seventh story balcony of an exclusive hotel, another down an elevator shaft of yet another exclusive hotel, the most recent, a young man who presumably fell to his death during a hike out by Red Rock Canyon.
All had presumably been accidents, but of course, only time would tell.
In any case, Grissom would come over soon and give the verdict on this incident but something just wasn't sitting right in Brass' mind.
"How can anyone be so stupid to fall from up there?" Abigail Evers was anything but tolerant of any one else's shortcomings, her pretty face scrunched up in a disbelieving grimace. "I bet she was trying to take a selfie and stepped back, what' da ya want to bet, JimBrass?"
"Don't call me that." The man secretly kinda liked the moniker the young detective had bestowed upon him several months back when first assigned to his division. "That's 'Captain' Brass to you, Rookie. And go get me some coffee. And a donut." He motioned to the Starbucks across the way. "You know how I like it."
"Oh, I do know." The young woman jumped on the chance to 'flirt'. She moved suggestively closer, her finger running down the front of his blue silk tie. "Bet I could ring your chimes, JimBrass, if I put my mind to it."
"You're not too old to take over the proverbial knee." He sent her a 'look', one that said...I'm just the guy who can...and will...do it. "Move that sweet ass, daylight's burning." he quoted John Wayne's favorite saying. Or at least, it was the only one he remembered from the hundred Duke movies he watched over the years.
The girl lost the mood, sighing heavily. "I wish Tom Harligan was back. Major Tom used to be the 'go to' guy before me, right? Why did you transfer him again?"
"He got too big for his panties." Brass missed the young detective, in truth. One would never hear such blasphemy from his lips though. "Two creams, one sugar."
"I'm not supposed to be the 'go to' guy...I'm a chick." Evers reminded politely. "I would love to report you for sexual harassment but, gee." She managed a woe-be-gone face. "you just won't response like you're supposed to, will ya."
Brass noted Grissom had arisen, and was headed over. "Yeah, why don't you try your seductive powers out on someone new for a while?" He motioned to the man who ambled over.
The girl pulled an adorable face, turning, lowering her voice. "He scares me and not in a good way." She cut her eyes to Grissom. "He's weird."
"You are too." Brass pointed out. "Could be a match made in Heaven. Why don't you take a shot?"
"You know you would be devastated if I was unfaithful to you." She stated almost petulantly. "Which I won't be. I love you, JimBrass. Only you."
"Oh...goodie." he nodded slowly, his brows lifting slightly. "I feel so privileged. Lucky me."
"I'll get that coffee, because you're my guy but only because of that fact." She decided.
"Yeah, don't forget the donut." He watched the saucy little swish of her ass as she departed, forgetting the woman in the next instance. Although it was pretty hard to forget those tight slacks which hugged that cute little bottom with just the right tenacity to wet a guy's imagination."...So, what'da we got, Gil?" He turned his attention to business.
"It's not an accident." Grissom knew. The man sat his case aside, on the fender of Brass' state issued SUV. "She was dead before she hit the pavement. But not too long before. This guy wanted to make it seem like she just fell but there are cuts and wounds all over the body. Knife wounds."
"What?" Brass shook his head, his mood dropping. "You fucking thinking what I'm thinking here?" He already knew each man was in sync. "It's the same MO. I just hoped for something different, damnit."
"I remember." Grissom did. "But that guy disappeared off the scene over two years ago, Jim. And none of the details of his crimes were released to the press."
"Which means, no copycat." Brass sighed heavily. "This is our guy and he's resurfaced."
"You're jumping to conclusions." Gil Grissom disliked doing so. "Let me get some more information under our collective belts. You can have the scene now. We'll get her transported."
The man handed over the necessary data to get the ball rolling.
Brass glanced over the readout on the phone. "Chloe Cummings. Age: 22." The man rubbed tired eyes with his thumbs. "Geesh. Twenty-two. I don't ever remember being that young."
Grissom really looked at his friend. "Why are you even here? This is the night shift's department, right?"
"I was headed out the door." Brass heard the call come in. "Thought I better check it out at least."
"Well, you've checked it out, now...go home." Gil smiled to lessen the words. "I am capable of doing the job, you know."
Brass chuckled. "With all these new Rookies hanging about, not sure my department can make such a claim." He took the coffee and donut from Abigail Evers unresisting hands as she approached.
"Oh...hello, CSI guy. I don't think you're weird or anything." The woman smiled pleasantly over to a politely waiting Grissom. "Well, I do, but only in the best possible way."
"Hello...Lower Person In Rank Than I Am." Grissom could bullshit with the best of them. "Where's my coffee?"
"Are you shitting me?" Abigail's face showed her disbelief.
Brass motioned with his forefinger to the busy Starbucks the woman had just vacated.
"Ah, come on, JimBrass!" She whined. "Have a heart."
"Lost it when you came through the door, Angel." He smiled at her manner. "See if you can find a muffin, will ya?"
The girl's head fell back and she offered a disgruntled groan but traipsed back across the street to the Starbucks, her steps world-weary ones.
Brass held his grin. "That did my heart good. Thanks, Gil."
"Don't mention it." Grissom didn't bother to hold his smile. "Go home, get some rest. I'll take over for a while."
"Can't." Brass knew. "I have to notify the next of kin."
"Haven't got any names for you but your department can handle that." Grissom was certain. "Still, you look beat. Just saying."
"I'm fresh as a daisy." Evers returned with the coffee and a muffin and...a look of dissension. Brass motioned for her to hand it over to the correct recipient. Her mood dropped lower as those green eyes landed on a chipper Gil Grissom.
"I had to flash my badge to butt in line." She brooded expertly, in Brass' opinion.
"Well, thank you, Lowly One." Grissom bit into the muffin, none the worse for wear. "What would we higher ups do without you."
"You guys are chauvinistic pigs." Evers made mention. "Especially you, Cop Guy." Her brow furrowed even more so, having noticed the man next to her. "Although, you smell pretty good. Both your behaviors are archaic and beyond unacceptable to any self-respecting female of this day and age, just saying."
"Flattery will get you almost anywhere with me." Brass said. "I need the next-of-kin. Get on it." He ordered in that matter-of-fact way he had about him.
"Aren't we off-duty, JimBrass?" She was about to whine.
"When I say you're off-duty, then so shall it be." The man cut short any misunderstandings. "Did I say it? I don't think I did."
The girl dropped her head, this time, trudging off in a woe-is-me manner.
"This younger generation." Grissom watched her departure.
"Yeah, can't shoot em and bury em in the back yard." Brass agree with the assessment. "Not without you and your team coming along and digging them up and pointing accusatory fingers."
"It's what we do." Grissom apologized, his eyes on the covered body just off to the side. "We got to find this creep, Jim. This time?" He sought out his counter-part. "We have to stop him once and for all."
"We didn't do so good first time around." Brass blew out a puff of air, his opinion running along similar lines. "But we're smarter now...right?" He lifted mirth filled eyes, which faded with time. "We'll get the bastard. His time is coming to an end."
CSI/TBL
The dark eyes watched the beautiful mansion across the way. "Well, my little bird. You've come up in the world, I see." A smile graced the full lips. "I always knew you had a head for business and a body that would please the Gods."
A chuckle issued from those smirking lips, the sound raspy and unnatural somehow. The soft night air carried the sinister whisk away.
The man shifted his attention to the West. He had always liked the mountains. Perhaps, after his business was done here, he would find a nice spot to retire. There was no real challenge any longer to his pastime. No one worthy of his talents. No one was his equal.
He sighed longingly. Sad, really. Reddington was merely a thug, one who got lucky before. There had been no real threat there. Anyone can resort to such menial tactics. He expected more from a man of such supposed distinction.
Really? A gun? How bourgeois.
His interest perked up. A light came on in the upper part of the house. East end, with the lace curtains. She was finally 'home'. It was late, after all. And in her line of business, hours varied. He would forgive her. "Ah, Heather my lovely. You make my heart beat faster, just the very thought of your beautiful features and that exquisite form." He sighed breathlessly. "You are worth the wait."
Chloe's information had been correct after all. One can never be certain. Fear is such a powerful aphrodisiac, after all. One says what one must to survive. Pity Chloe did not. Even though she had said mostly, all the right things.
He really rather liked the child. She was oddly innocent in her own way. He had become bored, however. The game was no longer entertaining. He ended it...and Chloe's young life. Oh well...
He dismissed Chloe Cummings in the very next heartbeat...
A thrill ran the length of his spine bringing yet another smile, for a slender shadow had moved across the window lace. "I am coming for you, my precious." He advised softly. "It won't be long now. Then it's Reddington's turn and all will be as it should be once again. I have waited so long."
He quieted his heart beat.
"I had to see you, my love." He moved back into the shadows for the woman who owned the house across the street was once again peering out the large plate glass windows of her home.
Some people needed to mind their own business. "Perhaps I should visit you, you old biddy, before my lovely Heather. Teach you to mind your manners."
He dismissed the sensation of anger as unproductive, his eyes hastily returning to the room with the lace curtains. "I had best go, my darling. I will return soon, of course." he blew a kiss. "I count the minutes."
He moved off into the night, blending well with the eerie shadows and dark melancholy surrounding him.
CSI/TBL
"I said, you were off-duty, Evers." Jim Brass' brow furrowed slightly as the woman had set a beer before him. "You don't have to cater to me now. We're just two buddies, having a beer, remember?"
"I like to play the subservient." The young girl sat beside the man, sliding close in the small booth Brass had claimed for his own many years back now in the small 'cop bar' just down the way from the old head quarters that was Jim's home for many, many years before the new City Hall building was erected. "If you're into that sort of thing? I hope." She smiled prettily over, her chin resting on doubled up fingers. "You're such an Alpha." Her eyes swept his form appreciatively. "We could play...naughty college co-ed and you could be my strict and demanding Professor. You up for it?"
"Anyone ever take you up on that shit?" He cut her a look. "I think you're all talk, little girl."
"Try me." She popped some peanuts into her mouth, lifting suggestive brows.
"Did you get the vic's information I asked for?"
"No shop talk." She scowled, sipping her own beer moodily. "And yes. I'm not going to tell you though cause...I'm jealous and I don't want you should go where the data will send you."
"Well, you better tell me or I'll show you just how 'strict and demanding' I can be if I put my mind to it." Brass suggested mildly, stretching his legs out under the heavy wood of the table. He kinked his back absently.
"Ohhh." Evers closed her eyes, savoring for a beat. "Chloe Cummings worked for Lady Heather. She has no known next-of-kin, damnit to hell." She moped moodily. "So you're going to have to go over to that house of ill repute and I know how you look for each and every opportunity to do so. Happy now?"
"Getting there." Brass held his smile, the thought of meeting Lady Heather again not exactly an unpleasant one.
"I could go for you." Evers brightened. "Save you the leg work. I wouldn't mind at all, JimBrass...not at all."
"No, but you can come along." he decided. "You might learn a few things about seduction that you need under your belt."
"That was just mean." The woman decided. "I can 'seduct' with the best of them, I'll have you know."
"Is there such a word?" Brass asked, his mood mellowing despite his determination to not let the woman get to him.
"I'm not wearing any panties." she moved closer still, her breast rubbing up against the muscles of his biceps. The man glanced to the contact, keeping his features perfectly neutral in nature although, the contact felt...kinda good, in reality, he was loathe to admit if only in his own mind.
"I'm not wearing any either." he thought it should be said. "Didn't get to the laundry this week...you too? Is this you 'seducting'?"
The girl sat back, shaking her head woefully. "You are a challenge." She digested the fact. "But, I ain't no quitter...just saying."
"I wouldn't want it any other way." The man pulled the bowl of peanuts his way, palming a handful. "If you were wearing panties...what style would they be...just curious. Don't make a big deal out of it though, okay?" He warned with his stare.
"The kind that hug my ass cheeks but have room for you to slide your palms up and under?" She grimaced her doubt, hoping she had hit on his very favorite 'style' in the entire Universe.
Brass pulled an approving face. "I love those." He caught the waitress' attention, motioning the young server over. "Too bad you don't have any on. I would have tried to jump your ass otherwise."
The blonde arrived just on schedule, interrupting any repartee Evers would have made. "We're gonna order now. I'm suddenly in the mood to eat something." Brass sorta enjoyed the shocked, blank expression his words had caused on his young detective's face for the totally unnecessary double entendre.
CSI/TBL
"You didn't have to come along, baby. This shouldn't take all that long." Red patted Lizzy's hand superficially, his mind on the short skirt she had donned this day. The black nylons accentuated her shapely legs to perfection. She wore a black and white patterned blouse of silk material under a stylish jacket. She had kicked her heels off. They lay forgotten on the carpeted floor by her feet.
She usually traveled in much more comfortable clothing.
Red knew she was trying for 'sophistication' on this outing, however for Baz had opened his big mouth, supplying any and all information concerning Lady Heather when asked to do so by the lovely woman beside him in the next plane seat.
Baz had done so out of pure maliciousness, Red knew, having sensed Lizzy's curiosity over the other woman and the why of it all.
"Oh, I am coming along." Liz was certain. "I have to meet this woman who makes even Baz get all blathering and disgustingly jovial when mentioned."
Red held his smile. "She's...unique. But so are you, my darling."
"Yeah, stow it." Liz mumbled, returning to her novel. Red knew she was not really reading the thick, bulky print. "I'm really loving this book. It's the top read on New York Times Top Seller List, you know. I don't have time to talk about one of your old lovers."
Red nodded thoughtfully. His eyes traveled up and down those shapely legs. "You wearing a garter belt with those?"
Liz lifted her eyes, to seek out his meaning. "Yes." She smiled pleasantly over. "And a thong, just in case you are wondering about that as well."
"I was, actually." Red glanced about the totally occupied cabin. Harper sat next to Lily, holding her hand. It was the woman's first flight. She didn't enjoy flying if her expression was anything by which to judge. Joe lounged a few seats back, catching some down time. He was snoring softly. Two more security people milled over by the open bar. "Those little black ones with the side ties?"
"How did you guess." Liz seemed impressed. "Too bad you aren't going to get to even see them, let alone...untie the suckers, hum."
"Now, baby..."
"You dropped everything to run off and help this woman." Lizzy's little face fell. "I am sooo not happy with you right now, Red Reddington. Have you picked up on that fact?"
"I have." Red nodded, his tone a soothing one. "In my defense, there wasn't really anything to 'drop'...and as I said, she's just an old friend who is in trouble. I would do the same for any old friend, baby."
Liz's eyes narrowed. "Good for you."
"I'll tell you the story if you're really interested." Red relented. "And then you will see the 'why' of it all. Why...I have to go and see that everything is alright out in Vegas. Would you like me to start or are you really interested in your book." He lifted knowing eyes.
Liz glanced at the volume in her hand, laying it aside after a noticeable hesitation. "Well, okay then. But this had better be good, Mister. Cause I'm really really not happy with you right now."
"So you have said." Red demurred gently. "Well, I shall begin then." He told the tale of how Heather and he had met. "It all was rather innocent, really." the man lied through his teeth cause he kinda wanted some hot pussie tonight. "Not so many years back but it seems so. Lady Heather was just starting her business, needing a few high rollers to get the word around."
"And you were one of these fortunate guys." Liz asked innocently.
"Don't interrupt." He teased. "I knew you then, of course, but you were happy with Tom, or so I thought."
Liz pulled a face but held her piece.
"There was this guy who wanted in on the action but she didn't want or need any business partners. He wasn't the type to take no for an answer." Red settled back in the seat. "He was into the kinky shit and the girls were leery of him. He often carried shit too far. So, Heather asked me to speak to him on her behalf."
"Am I...as a Federal Agent, not going to like this upcoming part where you 'speak' to the guy?" Lizzy sensed she wasn't.
"It's all I intended to do." Red told the truth. "But there's just some people, Lizzy...that need to be taken out."
She shook her long tresses negatively, her expression bemused.
"He just wouldn't hear reason." Red shrugged. "And I wasn't as patient back in the day as I am now."
Lizzy's brow furrowed quizzically. "Oh...you're patient now are you?"
Red smiled. "Not with stupidity or egomaniacs that think the world revolves around their wants and needs."
"So you 'spoke' to him."
"Well, my Ruger did." Red shrugged. "But just the once."
Liz kinked her neck muscles for a headache was coming on.
"I called in Mr. Kaplan and the world moved on. Lady Heather's establishment gained notoriety...things settled down. All was well."
"Or so you thought." Lizzy took for granted. "And now, what? This guy's protégé is back on the scene, causing trouble?"
"Has to be." Red had thought it out. "Didn't know he had one but, it's a logical assumption."
"Why do you say that?" Liz was interested despite herself.
"Heather says there have been two murders...each involving one of her girls." The sordid tale was something Red wished he did not have to share with the woman. "...Just like in the past. The cops are playing catch up as usual."
Red sighed heavily, moving the story along. " I spoke with this man. Alistair Bennington. Like I said, he let things get out of hand and...what should have been a simple night of entertainment all went awry somehow."
"Entertainment." Liz repeated mechanically.
"To each his own, baby." Red didn't judge. "One man's kink is another's passion."
"If you say so." She crinkled her nose and Red smiled.
"Heather's girls are unique. Each has a specialty which caters to the exotic tastes that are out there. Truth told, there is very little sex which takes place in Heather's establishment." He told the truth. "The girls are experts at what they do and expect oddities...things out of the norm for 'normal' people."
"Sounds fun." Lizzy quipped but obviously was a little troubled by the reality of Lady Heather's peculiarities.
"Can be." Red grinned. "But Alistair Bennington was something none of them expected. They went to Heather and Heather, came to me."
"Why do you think this guy is back, or...his buddy, if that's the case. Why wait so long to start up again?" Liz was intrigued by the morbid aspect of it all. "That is our scenario, right?"
"Maybe the guy was doing time and is out now." Red mused. "Who the hell knows. I plan to find him and end it...again. End of story."
"You like this woman." Liz's tone had softened.
"Not like I like you." He told the truth. "She's a friend. A dear one who helped me when no one else bothered. I owe her."
Lizzy nodded. "I'll keep an open mind."
"You'll need it." He chuckled. "Come over here, sit by me." He motioned. "At least let me cop a few feels, hum?"
"The bathroom's free." Liz's blue eyes softened, a sensual awareness of the man coming to the fore. "And these thongs move aside really easily...I'm told by those who know things like that."
"Baz?" Red's gaze had deepened considerably.
"Sometimes, once he gets started?...he just offers over too much damned information." those luscious lips tightened irritably. "I told him enough but he just kept on talking."
"He knows it bothers you." Red confided. "Why don't you...moseying on back to the bathroom. I'll wait discretely and then..." He lifted a seductive brow.
Liz glanced at the others on the plane. "I'll take my novel. They'll just think I've become really involved with the story, right?"
"Good thinking on your part." Red approved.
"Don't you keep me waiting." The woman stood, deliberating moving very close to the man's face as she passed in the tight space of maneuverability.
"Oh hell no, baby." Red motioned to the beginnings of a very noticeable bulge in the dark slacks he had chosen for the flight. "I'm already there."
Liz smiled happily, swishing her backside saucily as she traversed the aisle of the plane.
Red Reddington closed his eyes, willing his arousal aside for a beat. Only then, did he meander the way his wife had taken minutes ago.
It was going to be a damned good flight. Who knew at it's questionable beginnings?
He smiled politely to one of the security guards who had made use of the other bathroom and was now, making his way back to the bar area.
Red started humming softly to himself. "Strangers on an airplane...exchanging bodily fluids..."
So he took a few liberties...so what. His mood was high, it was a damned fine day all around suddenly.
Life was good.