Thieves

[Miltone]

This is a closed thread for Tammi and your truly. We both invite you to read along as we weave a little tale of intrigue, thievery, and yes, of course, sexual exploration!

Quentin “Quint” McCann, Insurance Investigator

“Too hot! Too goddamned fucking hot for this early in the year!” I said to no one in particular. I had leaned back in my cheap office chair and looked around my cubbyhole of an office. Then I looked out to see the rich fuckers in their yachts heading out into the bay. Maybe some are heading down to St. Kitt’s for a long weekend, maybe a couple are heading out for that round-the-world cruise that Muffy has been whining about for years. Probably most are just out for an afternoon of fun ‘n’ games with their secretaries. Fuck! They’re all bastards and whores anyway.

I couldn’t stand the thought that some fat balding fucker with more money than God was out there getting some sweet piece of ass from a pretty young babe, while I sit here shuffling paper and trying to keep the bill collectors and my ex’s lawyer off my back. Shit! That’s what I get for taking an office with a view when they wouldn’t give me a raise. And some office; a glorified broom closet and it was a mess but I really didn’t give a shit.

I had already finished entering in my last report for the day and it was still only three o’clock. How to kill the rest of the day? Paper wad basketball? Nah! Go out and make time with Marquesa the new receptionist? Why, bother? She already has taken a shine to Todd the young stud in commercial accounts. How about sneaking out the back way and heading over to Leon’s for a cold brew and a head start on the weekend? Now that was more appealing. I rubbed my chin and thought it over. Damn, it’s worth a gamble.

Getting up from the chair and sticking my head out the door, I saw that the coast was clear. I ran my hand through my thinning blond hair and checked my necktie. Didn’t want to look too casual, more like I was going about some important business. Partway down the hall, I turned the corner to head toward the stairwell when Jenkins caught me.

“McCann!” he called out. “Come a second!”

I knew his “seconds” could be like hours sometimes, but had little choice since he oversaw all claims.

“What up?” I asked.

“I see you finished filing this morning,” he told me, putting me into a corner.

“Yeah.”

“Well I got a hot one for you,” he said waving me into his office. “You ever been to the Metro Museum Of Art?”

“A few times, why?”

“I just got a call from the collections curator,” he went on. “Something about some paintings being switched or something. I want you to head down there and nose around a little.”

“But isn’t that Matthew’s specialty?”

“Yeah, but he’s out of town on a special. I want you to follow up and see just what’s going on.”

Shit! I was actually going to have to do some work this afternoon. He gave me some preliminary paperwork and sent me on my way. I hated crap like this. Probably just some paperwork snafu. But wait. I could just run over quickly, show some face, then head over to Leon’s. Hmm, maybe.

I didn’t mind the drive over to the Museum, putting the top down on my old Buick Century convertible and enjoying the sunshine and afternoon breeze. Only problem was that I was sweating like a pig when they directed me to the Museum boardroom when I arrived.

“Mr. McCann? Hello,” said the burly balding guy seated at the head of the table. He got up to introduce himself. “I’m Chester Morris, Museum Director. This is Alan Harris, Head Curator, and Miranda Wilson, his assistant.” There were some others there, mostly board members, but I didn’t catch their names. “So let’s tell you why you’re here. Miranda?”

The tall willowy blonde with thick eyeglasses stood up and walked around to hand me a thick booklet full of pictures of paintings.

“This is the Thibodeau Collection, bequeathed to the Museum over thirty years ago. It contains some of the finest Impressionist and German expressionist paintings in the world. Over two hundred works in all.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen them,” I shot off. “Nice stuff.”

“Yes, well, this morning after taking down a Van Gogh as part of our regular maintenance and conservation effort, it was discovered that it was a fake. A very, very professional well executed fake. The only way we could tell was that the special markings that identify it were incomplete.”

“So …” I said, waving my hand impatiently, hoping she’s speed things up and let me get to my bar stool on time.

“So we believe that there was a theft involved.”

“You sure that the makings weren’t just removed by a previous cleaning?” I had to ask.

“Oh, no, sir. We document everything.”

“You see, Mr. McCann, since your company is our lead insurer we felt that we had to report this immediately,” said Chester with a groan. “This could be potentially very embarrassing to our Museum since we rely on donations and endowments.”

“Sure, pally,” I answered.

“But that’s not all,” Miranda said. “After we discovered this, we did a quick check and found that several others were also fakes.”

“Are you sure that you haven’t been hanging the fakes all along?”

“We’re quite certain, sir,” she said. They were all inspected thoroughly and authenticated when we received them from the Thibodeau estate.”

Fuck! That cold beer was slipping farther and farther from my grasp as this story unfolded. I had to set my thoughts aside and start to ask questions, demand reports and accounting for times, people, dates, authentication reports, the whole nine yards. In a way, after working some real crappy residential investigations for a couple of years, this was starting to peak my interest.

“Well, why don’t we take a little field trip, eh?” I said finally after sending the curator, his assistant and a half dozen volunteer secretaries scrambling. I love doing that! As we got up and filed toward the door, one of the board members, a tall lanky brunette approached me.

“So what do you think, Mr. McCann?” she asked, her light brown eyes checking me out closely. “Is this an inside job?”

I chuckled at her question and gave her an up and down look. Forty-something maybe, very, very pretty, gorgeous brunette hair, silky complexion, richly tailored skirted suit, expensive-looking jewelry, a huge rock but on the wrong hand. She had the look of a choice suburban lady, probably low mileage but high maintenance. And the tone of her voice made me wonder about … about … about something that I couldn’t put my finger on. A beautiful, pampered rich bitch who never had to work a day in her life, with nothing better to do with her time. This museum is probably just her Friday afternoon project, just like the orphanage is Monday’s project and the hair salon is Thursday’s “thing-to-do.” Who cares about the rest of her week? Something told me that I didn’t like her, not at all.

“We’ll have to dig a little deeper before we decide that, Miss … Miss … uh, Miss …” My voice trailed off. Damn! I had forgotten her name! She looked at me with those big light brown eyes and smiled, showing off a million dollar smile.

“Don’t tell me that you’ve forgotten my name already, Mr. McCann,” she laughed. “Most men never forget anything about me once we’ve met.”

“I’ll bet they don’t,” I said holding the boardroom door open for her to slip through. Shit! She looked just as fine from the rear as she walked ahead of me, then turned and waited for me to catch up to her.

 

[Tammi]

Rebecca Foresythe

“Miss Rebecca Foresythe.” I said, when he caught up with me, then saw the puzzled look on his face. “That’s my name and since I have a feeling we are going to be getting better acquainted, I hope this time you remember.”

“How many of these paintings have they discovered missing.” He said. Smiling to myself, I let Miranda answer him as we approached the room she was standing in. Clever man not remarking on my comment, I thought.


I had watched him from the moment he walked in the door, and a first glance, the extremely tall slender investigator, seemed nothing to worry about. He looked to be a man, bored out of his mind, even pissed that he had to even walk in this place. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had been on his way to some bar to drown out all his sorrows in a bottle of beer, blaming all the rich people of the world for his troubles. This would take no time at all and I wouldn’t miss evening cocktails at Klondikes Lounge with some business acquaintances.

Now watching him take a slight interest in his job rather surprised me. Most of these insurance investigators got the facts and were off in a hurry, letting their company handle it from there. Mr. McCann obviously took his job a little bit more seriously than that, and that might keep me here longer than expected. I leaned against the door, glancing at my watch.

“Hope I’m not keeping you from something, Miss Foresythe.” He said and I noted his slight sarcasm.

“Nothing that can’t wait, Mr. McCann.” I replied, eyeing him with a smile. Yes, the man was smart, with an attitude and didn’t like me, if he liked woman in general. Probably go stuck with a major divorce settlement he can’t pay and now all woman are going to suffer for that. A shame, a nice looking man like him, get rid of all that on top, I wondered what a person might find underneath all that.

 

[Miltone]

Quentin “Quint” McCann, Insurance Investigator

As we toured the gallery where the discovery was made, I noticed that Miss Foresythe was keeping real close to me, while all the other boards members were standing around like the know-nothings they probably were. As I started to ask questions about the theft and the curator and his assistant gave up their answers, she was hanging on their every word. For someone who obviously had another appointment, she seemed to be hanging around awfully close to the case.

“So have you checked out all of the paintings in this gallery, or just those from the endowment?” I asked.

“We are … um, in the process of verifying everything in the museum, a process that will take several days,” replied Harris, the curator.

“Whoever could have done such a thing, Mr. McCann?” asked Miss Foresythe.

“I’m thinking that it’s an inside job, someone with all hour access to the museum,” I said coolly. Only Miss Wilson twitched.

“Why the only people like that are probably all in this very room,” said Harris. “Are you saying that one of us is the thief?”

“I ain’t saying anything … yet,” I answered.

After looking around for a few minutes more, we headed back up to the offices to close things out for the day. On the way there, I found that Miss Foresythe walking beside me again.

“So tell, me,” I said to her. “Is this just a charity project for you or is there some other reason?”

“Well, I happen to love art, Mr. McCann,” she said calmly. “I have ever since I was a little girl. Paintings, sculpture, lithographs, historical objects, all of it fascinates me endlessly.”

“So you aren’t just out to save the whales or hug trees like so many of your lady friends with rich husbands and tons of free time?”

“Look, Mr. McCann, I am a successful business woman,” she said stridently. “I own several companies any one of which net more than the annual budget of your agency. Now you may think that I’m some sort of do-gooder art matron with nothing better to do, but you’ve got me all wrong.”

We had reached the boardroom and paused as the others filed in ahead of us. Mmm-mmm, there was fire in her light brown eyes and she stood facing me, her shoulders squared up and her back arching, pushing her rack out against her suit jacket—and a very nice rack it was. As my eyes raised back up to hers, she pulled her jacket together, covering up the little glimpse of cleavage I had caught. There was something about this one, something that told me I needed to keep my eye on her, maybe for more than one reason. I made a mental note to have her ID run and do a little research on this Miss Rebecca Foresythe.

 

[Tammi]

Rebecca Foresythe

What a little shit he was, he obviously had no idea who I was, apparently my name didn’t ring a bell with him. Sure I caught the way he looked at me, and I had a good idea of what he was thinking too. Of course, I seriously doubted he would admit it right now. I closed my jacket, with a grin on my face letting him know I was aware of his gaze.

“Miss Foresythe I meant no disrespect. In fact, it’s nice to see someone, especially a woman, take an interest in the real things in life, such as working for a living.”

“Believe me, Mr. McCann, I work very hard and take many risks with my business’s. I’m not you’re average do gooder, sort of speak.” I smiled at him. This man definitely didn’t trust me for some reason and that was enough to get my attention. Wait until he found out exactly who I was, that would probably make his blood boil, considering he obviously had a hard on for the rich, or should I say wanted to put it to the rich. Either way, he was someone I wanted to get to know better.

By the time he finished his preliminary questions, I could see that there were tons more questions in his eyes. Hell, why not give him an opportunity to find out more about me, what did he think he would find out anyway.

“Mr. McCann, I really must be going, but anything I can do to help in this investigation please feel free to call me. Here’s my business card.” I said, and placed my card in his hand, letting my hand linger there a bit longer than necessary. I then leaned closer to him, almost whispering in his ear. “I’ll be at Klondikes Lounge tonight with some business associates if you happen to be in the neighborhood. After that, I will be going out of town on business, so if there is anything you need my help with, I suggest you let me soon. My time is valuable and I don’t waste it.”

Before he had a chance to reply, I smiled at the other members and left, leaving Mr. McCann standing there holding my card. He was going to see that he was on my time more or less, after all he was just an investigator. I had dealt with many, although he was the first one that aroused my interest.

 

[Miltone]

Quentin “Quint” McCann, Insurance Investigator

I had to admit that that Foresythe broad had some balls. I pinched her card between my fingers. Nice heavy stock with a fine texture and genuine engraving, first class all the way. Just like her clothes and the way she walked—no, carried herself. Classy broads like that don’t walk like every other woman does, they carry themselves, moving through a room or down a street like they own it. Then the door closed behind her and we were back to business.

The rest of the meeting went well enough. I could tell by the way everyone was jumping that they were scared shitless. Losing a few million dollars worth of artwork can do that to you, especially when you have no idea how or when it happened. This was not like some smash and grab robbery. Who ever had done it had a plan and executed it perfectly. Morris the museum director was barking orders left and right, delegating the hell out of every request of mine. When we had wrapped up for the day, I checked in with the Jenkins at the office.

“They haven’t reported it to the police?” he bellowed.

“Not yet, Chief,” I replied. “But I was going to make the call shortly.”

“Don’t bother,” he replied, before hanging up. “I know Sullivan real well and can handle it.”

“You aren’t going to call in the police, are you?” Morris asked me excitedly.

“Have to. Thefts of this magnitude need to be linked to other agencies and Interpol,” I said. “If you have any chance at recovering them.”

“Yes, I know,” he said, still seeming too nervous. “But can we keep this out of the papers? A media scandal could ruin our endowment plan and scare off donations, not to mention destroy all of the good will we have generated over the years.”

“That’s up to you,” I remarked as I headed toward the door. “But you’d better be prepared just in case somebody somewhere lets it slip.”

When walking out to my car, I noticed that it had hardly cooled down any since the afternoon. Thankfully my car was parked in the shade of the parking garage, so I put down the top and headed out. Fuck, I really needed that drink right now, and a cold beer wasn’t going to cut my thirst. I thought of heading over to Leon’s but then thought of McDougall’s over on Third Avenue. They had better food and if I was getting trashed tonight, I at least wanted a thick steak to go along with it.

But as I neared the place, I passed by the Klondike and remembered what the Foresythe broad had said, “I’ll be at Klondike’s Lounge tonight with some business associates if you happen to be in the neighborhood.” The Klondike was one of the toniest places in town, high-powered attorneys, judges, politicos, big business movers and shakers, pretty rich for my blood and certainly not like the places I preferred where I could hang my hat and hide out for a few hours. What the fuck? Maybe if I played my cards right, I could get her to spring for my dinner and drink tab. Wouldn’t that be a hoot?

There was no place to park other than the valet lot, so I reluctantly pulled in. The kid who took my keys sneered at my old Buick. Okay it wasn’t a Bimmer or a Rolls or a Hummer like all the others lined up by the door, but it was mine and all paid for and I basically didn’t give a shit what junior car jockey thought. I snugged up my tie and buttoned my jacket as I stepped into the cool air of the lounge. The look and smell of the place was like money. Even the music playing on the sound system sounded rich. I headed toward the bar and felt lucky to find an empty seat near the end where I could check out the place for a while. The barmaid approached me. She was as pretty as a fashion model and dressed like the best man at a wedding. Had to admit it was kind of sexy. She gave me a close eye, but mixed a great Manhattan and left me alone to case the joint.

I got a charge out of watching all the yuppies and the DINKs mingle with the rich and famous, sipping their designer drinks and flashing their million dollar smiles and smoking their expensive cigars. It was after she had mixed up my third Manny, that I noticed a large group move into the bar. Guys in crisp suits and starched shirts and a woman, none other than my Miss Foresythe. Was she the center of their attention because she was the only broad or was it because they were all trying to get inside her silk panties? Or was it because her smile was so bright and her laugh so clear and charming and that she looked everyone in the eye when spoke to them?

Nature was calling and I had to toddle past her little clique on the way. I looked at her standing there so straight and tall, her back gently arched, holding her drink in one hand, her other hand resting on the flair of her hip. It almost seemed that I was going to pass by without being notice, but her eyes caught sight of mine and she smiled.

“Mr. McCann,” she said, waving me over to her little group. “What a surprise! I really didn’t think you’d show up here tonight.”

“Well, like you said, if I was in the neighborhood,” I answered. The other guys were all giving me the fish eye like I had ass wipe stuck to my shoe, but I ignore them.

“Let me introduce you,” she said slipping her hand onto my back. “Fellas, this is Quentin McCann, the lead investigator for the insurance company working on the Metro Museum art theft.” She went on to introduce me to all of the guys in her little group very politely and we all shook hands. Okay, so my hand was a little clammier than theirs and my suit didn’t have the sharpest crease, but they were all stiffs anyway. “So do you have time to join us?” she asked as I tried to edge toward the john.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” I said. “You guys all seem to know each other and I don’t feel like playing leftfield.”

She gave me a puzzled look.

“You know, like ‘left out,’ ” I added.

She was the only one who laughed. “Nonsense!” she said. “I insist!”

“We’re about ready to be seated, Becca,” one of her friends said.

“Tell them to add another chair,” she said. “Now why don’t you go do your thing and join us, okay?”

All this and kind of bossy too, I thought as I headed off to the men’s room. Damn! She was a piece of work, a real expensive piece of work, and the kind that schmoes like me don’t hardly ever meet.

“So tell me Quentin,” she said when I rejoined them before being seated. “Have you found any hot leads on the theft?”

“For one thing, you can call me Quint,” I said. “And for another, it’s really too early to say. I’ll be meeting with the staff all weekend going over every inch of the place. Maybe by then something will jump out.”

“Keep me posted,” she said with a warm excited smile. “I love a good mystery.”

 

[Tammi]

Rebecca Foresythe

“Considering your interest in the museum, I’m sure you’ll be well informed.” Quint replied, eyeing her.

“Oh that she will do, she manages to stay on top of most things. I’m not sure how she does it, don’t really care either as long as she keeps my stock investments climbing.” Harry Flanders remarked with a wide grin as he took a sip of his drink.

“Speaking of on top, when are you coming for another visit, Rebecca?” Stephen Turner said leaning closer to her and winking.

“That would all depend on when you’re wife and I have a chance to talk about those charities, Stephen.” I smiled at him, disregarding his flirtatious comments as I usually did.

The comments went back and forth, mostly business related, upcoming meetings, the various investments and my trip to Paris the following day. I sat back in my seat, crossing my legs and while we talked, I continually watched Quint. Although I could tell he was paying close attention to the conversation, I had to smile having a good idea this all might be boring the hell out of him. As another round of drinks came to the table, I motioned the waitress over. She bent down so that she could hear me above the laughter among the men and I told her I would need a table for two in the dinning area and to let me know when it was ready.

“Gentleman enough business for one night, I’m sure we are just boring poor Quint here.” I smiled at him and raised the glass to my lips.

“Not at all, in fact I’m finding it rather interesting. I might just have a few hundred dollars to invest if that stock is as good it sounds.” He said with obvious sarcasm and I laughed, not missing the humor in his comment.

Another thirty minutes passed during which time several of the gentleman left, departing with a warm friendly kiss to my hand, or my cheek. When the waitress came over to let me know my table was ready, Clay and Frank were the only two gentleman left besides Quint. I stood up from the table and all three gentleman stood up at the same time.

“Well gentleman it has been a pleasure as usual, but my table is ready and I am getting quite ravenous. You did say you would be joining me for dinner, did you not, Quint?”

“Yes I did and have been looking forward to it.” He remarked quickly, not thrown by my sudden invitation, now walking over by me.

“I’m not keeping you from anything am I Quint?” I asked taking his arm as we followed the waitress to our table.

 

[Miltone]

Quentin “Quint” McCann, Insurance Investigator

“Keeping me from something?” I chuckled. “Maybe just a bottle of Jim Beam with my name written on the bottom.” She didn’t seem impressed with my humor, in fact she didn’t seem all that impressed with me to begin with, which made her dinner invitation all the more surprising. A broad like this is probably used to all her little boyfriends kissing her hand and kissing her ass all day long, and I obviously wasn’t that kind. Oh, sure, I know how to treat a lady, particularly when she’s on her back with her legs in the air. But this one was different. She was all woman from her pretty head all the way down her long legs to her toes, but she had nerve and smarts too. Maybe it came from working as a woman in a man’s world. It all just made me wonder what she could possibly want with me.

”So tell me, Quint, have you ever worked on a case of this magnitude before?” she asked, her long slender fingers curling around her drink.

“A few. Remember that jewelry heist from a couple years back?” I asked and she nodded. “We traced that one all the way to Switzerland and beyond to the Balkans. Worked on another art theft before that, more of a smash and grab than this one. Mostly just residential break-ins and the like recently.” I shut up and watched her as she lifted her glass to sip her drink. Pure class.

“Is there some sort of problem?” she asked me.

“Problem? Me? Hell, no,” I said with a laugh.

“Then maybe you have a problem with me,” she said.

“What d’ya mean?”

“You’ve made it obvious in the way you look at me, like you’re judging me or something,” she said. “I’m really quite harmless, you should know.”

“I’ve got nothing against you, ma’am,” I answered. I tossed back a healthy draw from my drink. “I just find you endlessly fascinating.”

“Me or just all women?”

“You. You seem different from the rest.”

“Oh, and I suppose I should be flattered.”

“You should be.”

“I was starting to think that you had something against me and my position in life.”

“What? Cause you’re rich?” I asked with a laugh. “I work with rich people all the time. Who else can afford the insurance premiums we charge?”

She smiled but didn’t laugh. “I just wouldn’t want you to resent me for being well-off.”

“I don’t resent anybody,” I said. “I’ve been a working stiff all my life. Everything I ever got out of life I had to work my ass off for. Sure, it bothers me to see some nitwits surviving on their old man’s money, but at least when I go to bed at night, I can sleep soundly cause I’m not worried about who’s out to steal it all away from me.”

“Well, I’ll have you know, that I sleep very well at night too.”

“Now isn’t that a sight to ponder,” I said.

She was sitting squarely across from me, her eyes watching me as closely as mine were watching her. She knew something but I had no idea how to get it out of her. Instead I took a broader look at her, trying to make her think that I was picturing her in some sexy little peignoir ensemble that rich babes always seemed to lounge around in. For convincing good measure, I completed the image in my head and liked what I saw.

 

[Tammi]

Rebecca Foresythe

Watching him, I saw a small smile crease his lips, and wondered about the thoughts going through his mind. He was definitely a smart, quick witted man, slightly rough around the edges, but intriguing all the more. I just hoped his comment about finding me endlessly fascinating was more of a personal nature than that of being an investigator.

“So what’s with this trip to Paris? Business or pleasure?” He asked shortly after our dinner came.
“Now what if I told you I prefer buying my perfume at the original store, not ordering it?”

“I’d find that hard to believe.” He answered, looking up at her and I had to laugh.

“Yes, I thought you might. It’s business actually, I’ll only be gone for a couple days. I do however intend to stop by and get my perfume. A lady should never be without her favorite perfume, don’t you think?” I asked, enjoying the playful banter between us. He was actually somewhat charming in a rugged sort of way, at least entertaining.

“Sure, us men always love a good smelling woman.”

We continued to exchange friendly innuendos back and forth as we ate our meal. When the check came I reached over and signed it, although I had noticed his attempted at taking it. I wasn’t sure if he just wanted to see the amount or he was honestly considering paying for it.

“It was my invitation, next time you can buy me dinner where ever you choose.”

“And when will this come about?” He asked sounding rather smug.

“Oh I could probably give you a date, but then you might think I’m being extremely forward. I’ll let you choose when, although, it will depend on my schedule. I’m a very busy woman.”

“Which means you’ll let me know when.”

“Exactly.” I smiled at him as I stood up as did he. “I’m sure we will be running into each other soon, now that you’re involved in this case.”

“Yes, I’m sure we will.” He remarked glancing down at my hand as I took his arm and we walked outside.

The sun had gone down and it was getting quite late, but the humidity was still high and didn’t feel much cooler. As we stood waiting for our cars, I slipped my jacket off, hanging it across my arm. Quint was doing the same thing, as well as loosening his tie.

“Thank God for air conditioning.” I said to him with a smile when my limo arrived with his car right behind. Before he had a chance to say anything I leaned over and gave him a soft peck on the cheek, and spoke softly. “It’s been a very interesting evening, I’ll look forward to doing it again.” The chauffer was standing there holding my door and I got in the limo, making sure I smiled at Quint as we left.

 

[Miltone]

Quentin “Quint” McCann, Insurance Investigator

Damn! She was playing me, or at least she thought she was. The little jokes and innuendoes, the sweet peck on the cheek, the white silk blouse clinging to her body when she slipped off her jacket. Typical rich broad crap. But then, I had to admit that the thought of another evening spent with Miss Foresythe held the promise of other pleasures.

I slipped behind the wheel of my trusty old Buick and dropped the top. I couldn’t care less that the valet was sneering at me, though I did make sure I laid a patch in his eye when I peeled out of the driveway. I let the Frank pound out of the speakers as I wound my way home.

I kept thinking of Miss Foresythe, Rebecca, and wondered just what her deal was. Why would a classy broad like her ask a schmoe like me to dinner? Any one of those lackeys hanging on her every word at the bar could have bought and sold me ten times over. But maybe that was it, maybe she preferred someone with a strong pair of balls over a gang of wimpy “yes men.” I laughed at myself. Nah! That couldn’t be it.

I followed my way down near the canal and pulled up to park near the slip to my houseboat. It wasn’t a palace by any means, but it and my Buick were the only things in the world that were all mine. I poured a deep glass of bourbon whiskey and stood out on the deck for an hour. It was the best place to be on a night like this where even the lightest crepe shirt felt like a down jacket. There was always a breeze coming off the bay and with the only private deck, I would sometimes stand at the rail in the nude, letting the heat and the bullshit melt away.

Tonight was a little different. After I slugged down my bourbon, I checked my email and saw a ton of crap from the museum. Damn! That Miranda Wilson chick was a mover. There were attachments of security logs, personnel files, backgrounds checks on key employees, all waiting for my perusal. Even a set of rundowns on the board members. I clicked through most of them till I got to the one for Rebecca Foresythe. An early bloomer. High school Valedictorian, NHS member, graduated top of her class from Harvard Business School and a triple letter winner in basketball, volleyball, and rowing. Owned or controlled five multi-national corporations. Residences in three states and five countries. Member of the Fortune 500 and in the top 25 of America’s Richest. Never married. There was more, but as impressive as her history was, that last tidbit stuck in my mind. She didn’t marry into money. She didn’t inherit it. She did it on her own. Maybe a lot of guys were afraid of her. Hmm.

I kicked back from the computer and poured myself another bourbon, a tall one. I stood at the railing for the longest while, looking out at the bay and the few lights that were passing by. And I remembered her smile as she got into the limo at the restaurant. That image kept me warm all night, even as I opened up all the windows and fell on the bed drunk and naked well after two AM.

 

[Tammi]

Rebecca Foresythe

I walked in the door, going down the long corridor to my study, picked up the stack of mail, sat back in my leather cushioned chair, kicked off my shoes and put my feet up on the large oak desk.

“Good evening, Miss Foresythe.” Josie, a middle aged attractive looking woman said as she walked in, still dressed in her uniform. “Several packages arrived for you this afternoon and I put them in the library. The gardeners were here also today and finished putting in all the new flowers you had ordered for the back yard. I’m sure you’ll be very pleased with how beautiful it looks, especially around the pool and spa areas.”

“I’m sure I’ll be very happy with their work, they are well paid to do a good job. Are my things packed for my trip in the morning?” I asked her as I glanced through the sorted envelopes, I smiled at the return of RSVP’s I had gotten for my summer social event coming up this weekend.

“Yes everything is packed and ready to go, your clothes have been laid out, your driver has your tickets and itinerary and will be here at 8:00am to pick you up. I’ve also talked with the caterers for Saturday’s party and gone over the menu. They are planning on serving for 100 guests and have arranged for all that will be needed including the bartenders. Everything else has been taken care of and you’ll be happy to know that the Latin Band that you like had a last minute cancellation and will be able to play for the party after all.”

“That’s wonderful, I’ll be looking forward to that. Do make sure that all the guest rooms are well cleaned in case any of our guests decide to spend the night. I won’t be needing anything else tonight, thank you Josie.” I said, extremely happy about her news.

“Your welcome Miss Forseythe. Did everything go all right at the Art Museum today? After you had left this morning there were several calls for Miranda Wilson and she seemed very distressed.”

“Yes, she should be, it seems they have misplaced some very expensive paintings. But the insurance investigator I met seems to know what he’s doing, I’m sure they will figure out what happened.” I replied, now thinking about Quint, he did indeed have his work cut out it sounded like on this case.

“Well then if there’s nothing else, I think I’ll retire for the evening. Good night Miss Foresythe.” Josie said turning to walk out the door.

“One other thing, have an invitation made out to Mr. Quentin McCann for Saturday’s party and have it hand delivered to him at his office tomorrow and have them wait for a reply. You can phone Miranda and ask her for the information you need. Good night Josie.”

I smiled picturing the look on his face when he was handed the invitation. I wasn’t sure what it was about him that was attracting my interest, other than his investigation, but there was just something about him. I couldn’t place my finger on it just yet, although I had no doubts I eventually would.

After going to the library and taking care of the packages that had been delivered, I went up the long circle staircase to my room. It had been a long day and I was pretty worn out. I took a long soothing shower then slipped on my white lace gown and stood out on the balcony with a glass of wine in my hands. I loved the view at night, looking down across the valley, being able to see the bay area, all the small lights flickering. It was simply breath taking even on a warm night as this. I stood out there with the slight warm breeze playing at my gown, relaxing. I finally went back inside after I finished my wine and it wasn’t but minutes after my head hit the pillow I was fast asleep.

 

[Miltone]

Quentin “Quint” McCann, Insurance Investigator

I hate working Saturdays. I’d rather sleep in late and sit out on the deck in my skivvies with a hot cup of Joe and the morning news. But this Saturday found me at the museum, coordinating the investigation with Flynn and Jones, a couple of old pals from the local police. I had worked with them a dozen times before and we saw things the same mostly. I had to laugh at the way the museum people were falling all over themselves to help out. Maybe they were trying to cover their asses, maybe they didn’t know what the fuck they were doing, but either way all we had to do was snap our fingers and a handful would jump.

It was in the afternoon as we were looking over the entire Thibodeau collection when something caught my eye. There were three groups of paintings in the storage area, one group was the set that they had determined to be fake, the second was authenticated originals, and the third were those they had yet examined.

“Hey, Flynn, check this out,” I said.

He and Jones had been doing their CSI evidence thing, dusting for prints and all. He looked up and came over.

“What up?”

“Check this out,” I said, placing one of the known originals face down beside one of the fakes. “Lookit the frame on the fake. You can see the marks where the original canvas and frame were removed and this one replaced.”

“Hard to see, but yeah,” Flynn answered. “So?”

“So check out this original,” I said holding up the authentic Van Gogh. “Same marks, only there’s two sets of them.”

“Hmm. Maybe they take ‘em out to clean ‘em or something,” Flynn remarked.

“That’s what I thought, but then I checked the records for this painting,” I said. “This hasn’t been displayed that much in the gallery and hasn’t been removed from the frame for any preservation or maintenance work.”

“So what gives with the marks?” Flynn asked. “Maybe the previous owners did something with them.”

“Don’t think so,” I replied. “All of these were reframed when they were brought to the museum.”

“So why all the attention to this one anyway? It ain’t a fake,” Flynn laughed.

“That’s just it, it’s the real thing,” I said mulling it over. But no matter, it was getting on in the afternoon and I was looking forward to putting this all away and heading home.

“So you want to join us for a cold one, Quint?” Flynn asked as were walking to the parking structure.

“Love to boys, but I got a hot invite tonight,” I laughed.

“See I told ya they would come piling in once you got rid of that old lady of yours,” Flynn laughed. “So who’s the lucky lady.”

“Funny you should ask,” I said. “One of the board members here sent me an invitation to some sort of party. Guess I finally get to see how the other half lives.”

They both laughed, probably at the thought of me in a summer tux. Well, seeing that I didn’t have one, my old linen suit would have to do. I managed to make it home through the nasty heat of late afternoon and took a little extra time in the shower. Had to laugh at myself thought; just because Miss Foresythe had sent me a fancy invitation to some hoity toity party didn’t mean anything more than that. Probably ready to have some laughs with her rich bitch friends at my expense. But I’d show her. You don’t have to have money to have class, and you don’t need to be a Harvard graduate to know which fork to hold.

I stood for a moment still wet from the shower and looked myself over in the mirror. Okay, the blond hair was thinning, but I still had most of it, the blue eyes still had a twinkle of life in ‘em, and the body was looking good without any paunch or flab. Even the buns were still pretty firm. Hey, just because life didn’t hold a lot of promise for me these days doesn’t mean that I don’t take care of myself. I put on a crisp white shirt and a dark silk tie and slipped into my pressed linen suit. Cleaned up pretty well, I thought as I gave myself one last look over. Maybe Miss Foresythe will think the same when she sees me actually show up.

 

[Tammi]

Rebecca Forseythe

With a drink in hand I walked from one gathering of friends to another, mingling. The party was going well, most of the guests had arrived, the Latin band was playing on the back patio under the covered portion for shade with the fans going. The guests were a mixture of the rich upper class society, including some of the local politicians, lawyers and business associates of mine that I had become friends with.

It was another warm day and the people gathered outside had shed their suit jackets, or had changed to swim suits and were enjoying the cool water in the pool. Most were gathered inside the house where it was much cooler and in the large dining hall. A large variety of food was set out on the long oak table, and there had been no expense spared on the food as it ranged from seafood to prime cut beef, fresh fruits, salads, breads and various desserts. Along with that, servers were walking around with trays of h’devoures for those who wanted them and barmaids were carrying glasses of champagne on trays.

Wearing a peach casual, but elegant looking sleeveless dress, flared at the waist, with matching heels, I walked in from the back yard to the dinning hall to talk to the Mayor and his wife. Several minutes later he captured my attention when I saw Josie walk in with Quint behind her. I smiled at him, surprised but happy that he had decided to attend.

“Quint, how nice to see you. I’m glad you decided to join us.” I said as he was led to our small group. “I’m sure you know Mayor Paul Hill and his wife Alice.”

“Nice to see you again Mayor, Mrs. Hill. Always a pleasure to see you, Miss Foresythe.” Quint said, shaking hands with the Mayor.

“There’s plenty of food as you can see if you’re hungry or would you like a drink to start off with?” I asked him, needing a refill on my own drink.

“A drink would be great.”

“Then follow me to the bar and if you like I’ll show you around. And by the way, you can call me Rebecca, I‘m not really as formal as I come across.” I said with a smile and couldn’t help notice how very nice he looked. As we walked over to the bar, standing close to him, I caught the scent of his after shave and I always did like a man that knew how to wear that, not drowning themselves in it, but just a hint to mix with there own masculine odor.

“Nice place you have here, Rebecca.” Quint said after ordering his drink and I watched as he was taking in the people as well as the atmosphere.

“I like it, lots of room, or should I say rooms. Let me show you around.” I remarked, now taking his arm, my other hand holding the drink. There was something about his eyes, a certain glint to them, the color, all I knew was that I felt very drawn to them.

I showed him around several of the rooms, including my study, the sitting room, and the library, at the same time having to stop and talk with quests as we went on our tour. The walls held many paintings, tables and shelves had expensive art pieces on them, and the library was lined in books from ceiling to floor on the built in book cases. We passed the staircase on the way to going out back and I noticed him glance up in that direction.

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what’s up there.” I said grinning at him.

“No, I have a good idea.” He said with a slight smirk.

“I’m sure you do.” A soft laugh escaped me and I smiled at him. “Let’s go outside. There’s a bar out there and we can refill our drinks. I can introduce you around, you may even see someone you know. Feel free to take a swim if you’d like, the bath house has a variety of clean swimming trunks. Oh, and I hope you like Latin music, the band is wonderful.”

 

[Miltone]

Quint McCann, Insurance Investigator

“I just may have to take you up on your offer of a refill,” I said as we moved through her house. House? Hell, it was a god-dammed mansion. I had been through places like this before many times, mostly clients whose hired help had “misplaced” something rare and valuable. I was always amazed that someone, especially a single woman like Miss Fore … er, Rebecca, needed so much room. But I guess when you have the wealth, something the size of my houseboat simply won’t do.

“Why don’t we go out this way?” Rebecca suggested, indicating a long arched hallway. “I call this the gallery. There’s something from every important era in here from the Medici’s to the moderns.”

And she was right. Some I didn’t recognize. But of those I did, the names were boggling. VanEck and Van Gogh, Picasso and Pollock and Pizzaro, Rembrandt and Roumand and Rosselli. I paused by an Adam Smith portrait. I looked up at it, a life-sized depiction of an elegant 19th Century women of obvious high status in a riding costume. There was a remarkable resemblance to my hostess. I looked from one the other and back again. When I pointed toward the painting, she smiled.

“Yes,” she nodded. “That was my great-great-great-grandmother Foresythe.”

“She was beautiful,” I said looking over the wonderful skin tones and hauntingly beautiful eyes. “Your resemblance is uncanny.”

“Isn’t it?” she said with an embarrassed laugh. “People think that we look enough alike to be sisters.”

“I’d say more than that.”

And the artwork all over the place, paintings, sculpture, bronze and marble statuary, all was authentic. There wasn’t a single fake that I could tell. Damn! To be able to drop that much on just some pretty pictures to hang on the wall! In a way, you could almost say that it was like living in a museum, but this was a warm livable place and Rebecca was no chilly curator. She graciously led me outside so that we could refill our drinks. The lilting strains of the Latin band were seductive and at one point I thought of asking her to dance, but then one of her boy toys came by, whispered something in her ear that made her frown, and she excused herself.

But I didn’t mind since it gave me sometime to think about what I had just seen. So she came from money, old money, and was simply making the best of what she had been given. I hated the thought that she had screwed her way to a fortune, not that she probably couldn’t have since she was a beautiful woman. Yeah, she was beautiful, tall and slender but with nice curves right where they belong. And with her hair done up and wearing such a lovely light summer dress—or do they call it a gown?—she was prettier than any of the treasures that were on display.

The evening was still young so I grabbed another drink and schmoozed a little through the crowd. I knew a few people and said hello; I knew of a few and introduced myself; the rest I enjoyed watching enjoying themselves. The food was great and the drinks kept flowing and I found myself, in the middle of this damned heat wave, to be having a good time.

I followed the sound of the band and stood in the ballroom where they were set up at one end. It was a bright, airy room lined with windows and doors along three sides. A lot of people had gathered and many of the younger ones were dancing, some of the more daring younger women still in their skimpy little swimsuits. It was infectious, happy music, even the songs that I recognized as having a sad theme. I had gotten another drink and stood near the bar nodding my head in time to the beat when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Miss Fore—er, Rebecca smiling at me.

“So what’s a handsome man like you doing standing here when he should be out on the dance floor?” she said with a disarming smile.

“Just waiting for the right dance partner to come along,” I responded. I set my drink down on a nearby table and waved toward the crowd that was dancing to the hot Latin beat.

“I’d love to,” she said and took my hand, pulling me into the crowd.

It had been a long time since I had done any salsa dancing, but this old dog had a few tricks to draw on. Loosen up your back and let your hips do your talking was one. As we moved together to the beat, I couldn’t take my eyes off Rebecca. She danced like a dream, her body moving in a sweet seductive way, moving toward me to brush against me, then spinning away flirtatiously. Then there was her smile and the smile of her eyes. If it wasn’t just the style of the dance, I’d swear that she was trying to seduce me, showing me the curves of her hips and ass one moment, then leaning over and showing off the curves of her breasts the next.

But I kept up with her, letting her know that I was no balding paunchy bureaucrat, that I kept myself in shape and could keep up with anyone, and that I knew when it was time to take my dancing partners hand and spin her into my arms. And when I did, it brought us face to face, and for that split second her smile faded and our eyes met. Then I spun her away and we continued dancing till the final trumpet trill ended the song. We stood and applauded along with the rest and the band began to play another song, this time a slow sensuous ballad. I held my arms open and she stepped into them. Taking her hand in mine and letting my other one slip around her back, we fit together perfectly.

“I want to thank you for inviting me tonight,” I said. This is a wonderful party.”

“Thank you,” she answered. “I wasn’t sure if I’d see you or not.”

“Well it was a slow Saturday night,” I joked and she let out a cute little laugh.

“So is there any news of your investigation?” she asked as we moved slowly to the music.

“Nothing conclusive at this point,” I replied. “I must say that the staff of the museum has been most cooperative.”

“What kind of person would do such a thing?” she asked. “You can see from what I collect that I love art and just can’t understand why someone would do something like that.”

“We have found a few clues, but nothing to bust open the case,” I said, then added with a little confidence. “We’ll find him and he’ll get his.”

“I hope you do,” she said.

We were both very warm and our clothes had become almost a second skin by the time the long ballad was over. “Would you care to step outside for some air?” she asked. I nodded. We grabbed a couple of drinks and I followed her out one of the doors onto a veranda that overlooked the garden and pool and tennis court. She leaned back onto the railing. The material of her dress was clinging to her snuggly, displaying her every curve and then some, teasing my eyes with the notion that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

 

[Tammi]

Rebecca Foresythe

Leaning back against the railing I looked at him, noticing how his shirt hugged his chest, several beads of sweat at his brow when he wiped his forehead. I found myself almost staring at him, my eyes moving down the entire length of his body and what shocked me was I was standing there trying to picture the man without anything on.

“So, Quint, then you have been enjoying yourself?” I asked, shaking my head, trying to pull myself together. What was I thinking, the man is, although good looking, smart and showed he did indeed have class, he was still a just an blue collar and I was….damn, a woman looking at one very good looking man.

“Yes, in fact. You throw one hell of a shindig.” Quint said leaning forward against the railing looking out at the view. For just a brief second I caught a certain look in his eyes that happen to make me think he was reading my thoughts.

“Sounds like that surprises you. I got the impression you might think we were a bit too uppity for someone like you.” I remarked turning to lean sideways on the railing facing him. There was glint in my eyes when I looked at him, fully aware that my breasts were almost touching his arm and very much aware he noticed.

“I’d say there are some advantages that go along with uppity.” There was a knowing look in his eyes as they strayed down to the front of my dress. With the dress clinging from the heat, the shape of my breasts and the white lace bra and clasp very definitely outlined as well as my rounded nipples that were now protruding outward noticeably.

“Enjoying the view?” I asked with a smug smile at the same time turning my head to look out towards the garden.

“Oh I’m most certainly enjoying, it’s a beautiful view. Warms a person right up just looking.” He said, not taken back by my comment. “Not that we need it to get any hotter.”

“You don’t like things getting hot? I rather enjoy a bit of heat now and then myself.” I replied, this time looking directly in his eyes as I lifted my drink and took a sip, licking my bottom lift slowly afterwards.

 

[Miltone]

Quint McCann

“I don’t mind the heat at all,” I replied. “Just depends on which method you use to cool down.”

She was playing me. I was sure of it. Maybe she got some weird kick out of this, flaunting her wealth and position, teasing a local Joe with her charms, physical and otherwise. But Damn! I did have to admit she looked beautiful the way her dress melted on her body, clinging to each lovely curve and showing off those that weren’t covered. After a few months of nothing, it was a pleasure to be in the company of a woman who didn’t have a lawyer tagging along or who wasn’t out to get something out of me that I didn’t have or couldn’t give away.

“You have several options, Quint,” she said coolly. “A cold drink, a dip in the pool, why I’m sure that Fernando would set up the lawn sprinkler if you were so inclined.”

“I’d be more interested in hearing what sort of options you prefer to pick from,” I said, hoping to turn it around on her.

“Not much different,” she said, her voice still flirtatious. “A tall pina colada or a tall man who knows how to mix one. Perhaps taking a cruise out on the ocean with an old friend or a very new one. Then on other nights like this I like to take a nice long midnight swim in the nude.”

She was playing me and she was very good at it. Get me all hot and sweaty on the dance floor, brush up against me so innocently, sprinkle sexy images in my head. But I couldn’t let her get to me. She was up to something and she would have to play me on my terms.

“To be honest, I like sitting outside on the deck of my boat, sometimes wearing my skivvies, sometimes none at all.”

“You have a boat?” she asked.

“Yeah, a houseboat down at the bayside marina,” I said, then finished my drink. “I live on it. It’s not much, certainly not anything like this place. But it’s mine and it’s comfortable. You ought to stop by sometime, you know, see how the other half lives.”

“Are you toying with me?” she asked. “Be careful, I might just take you up on that some hot sultry night like this, if only to see if what you say is true.”

A classy broad like this wouldn’t be thinking about me sitting outside naked, but there was something flickering in her eyes that told me she was.

“Hey, you’re welcome anytime,” I shot back. “The door’s always open and you’ll always find an icy glass of bourbon waiting.”

“And just how might I find it?” she asked leaning toward me.

I gave her one last toe to head lookover then chuckled inside. She was smart and beautiful and out of my reach. Over your head, McCann, I thought. Out of your league! Like she might ever go slumming at a place like mine!

“It’s easy to find,” I said. “Bay Village. Dock 123. Now if you’ll excuse me, I should be getting on. Thank you for a wonderful time.”

“You’re welcome, Quint. I’m so glad you could come.”

I reached up and put my hand under her chin. Damn! She was fine, with the softest skin I had ever touched, the sweetest smile I had ever seen, and the sharpest eyes that ever said, “Come hither!” I might have kissed her if I’d had another drink under my belt, but instead I smiled and turned away. She moved back inside to rejoin her party while I followed the path around and let myself out through a side gate. A strange and interesting night, I chuckled to myself. But fun. Definitely fun.

 

[Tammi]

Rebecca Forseythe

By the time the party ended and I finally got to bed, my thoughts quickly turned to Quint. I could have sworn he was going to kiss me right before he left, and when he didn’t I surprised myself at how disappointed I felt. What was up with the guy, I wondered. I saw the way he had looked at me, the little comments he had made, and showing up at the party, something was holding him back. Of course considering my wealth and statue, I was all too aware of how this intimidated men as much as it brought out those gigolo’s too. Quint definitely didn’t fit either one of those types, but then I really knew very little about him. In fact, maybe he had only showed up because of the case he was working on, out of courtesy and curiosity.

Laying there, I pictured him again, standing by the rail, looking so warm, speaking of which I was getting really warm just thinking about him. I had a strong suspicion that when he told me where his boathouse was he did believing full well I would never go there. A smiled creased me lips, wouldn’t he be shocked if I actually did show up. And the thought of seeing him just in his skivvies, now that was something I wouldn’t mind at all. Now what did one bring and give to the host on his houseboat? The more I thought about this the more I realized I had already made up my mind to go, and the only thing to bring him, was something he would least expect. Me!

The next several days passed by quickly and it was mid week before I had a chance to think, let alone relax. It was early evening, the sun was just about to go down as I stood on my balcony looking over the bay. It was going to be another sultry night and I thought about Quint’s offer and again it had me smiling. Hell, why not, it might even be fun just to see the reaction on his face when I showed up. Of course, I thought about calling, but then that would ruin the surprise, and even if he wasn’t there, at least I’d get a look at the place.

Walking back in my room, I quickly pulled the soft pink sleeveless cotton dress with a deep V-neckline, from my wardrobe, perfect for a warm evening outside I thought with a smile. I opened my drawer to find a nice pair of bra and panties, and again trying to picture him on his boat, in skivvies, maybe naked, I shut the drawer, forgetting the undies, dropped my robe and slipped the dress over my head. It wasn’t a clinging dress, although on a warm night that might not be true. After running a comb, through my hair, a light splash of perfume and putting on my high -heeled sandals, I was ready to go.

With the top down on my silver BMW, I drove down to the bay where the boats were docked. It took me awhile to park and walk around until I found which boat was his, having finally asked someone to point me in the right direction. I noticed the several glances I was getting and I could only guess what was on their minds concerning how I looked. Oh if they only knew who I was, wouldn’t they be surprised.

Walking down the pier, I spotted his boat and then spotted him and oh my, were my only thoughts at first glance. His bare back was turned away from me and the way his broad shoulders, his lean frame, the shorts tight against his ass, oh my. Apparently he was deep in thought or doing something because he didn’t hear me walk up.

“Is this the place that serves icy glasses of bourbon on sultry evenings?” I asked, leaning against the post next to his boat with my arms crossed. The expression on his face when he turned around to see me was priceless.

 

[Miltone]

Quint McCann

It had been a long day. We had finished our analysis of the Thibodeau Collection at the Metro and met with the curator and museum director to review the findings. Of the nearly 800 pieces of artwork including prints and lithographs, almost 200 had been tampered with, yet only a half dozen were determined to be not authentic. The tampered ones were all big ticket items, rare masterpieces worth millions, and the missing ones worth a few million apiece. Whoever was behind this knew what they were looking for. But I was puzzled about the tampered artwork.

I couldn’t wait for the evening to come. Even the drive from the museum with the top down on my Buick didn’t relax me, though the Jim Beam on the rocks that was waiting for me helped to get me started. I had stripped down to my skivvies and poured a second bourbon as the sun was setting, then stood out on the back deck by the railing. Strangely enough I started to think about Rebecca Foresythe. I hadn’t seen her around the museum since her little shindig and wondered what she was up to. Probably jet-setting over in the south of Europe someplace, or would it be sailing in the South Pacific? My thoughts were about ten thousand miles away when I hear a voice calling out.

“Is this the place that serves icy glasses of bourbon on sultry evenings?”

I turned around to see Rebecca standing there, right on the fucking pier wearing a short pink dress that looked like a second skin on her. Oh, yeah, and a smile, a smile that burned right through me.

“Ah, yeah, it is,” I said trying to recover. Here I was daydreaming about her stretched out on a seventy-five footer and she shows up on my floater. It wasn’t till I ran around to the gangway that I realized that I was only wearing my boxers, but at least they were fairly new and decent. “Welcome to my humble abode,” I said, waving her down. She stood up and moved toward me, unfolding her arms to take my hand as she stepped down the gangway.

“So this is your little getaway?” she said with a smile. I lead her through the front room and toward the bar, noticing how she was checking everything out. “Charming … and very masculine. Much like it’s owner I can see. Who’s your housekeeper?”

“You’re looking at him, baby,” I said after I had poured her some Jimmy on the rocks. She accepted her drink and took a sip.

“Now I really am impressed,” she said.

“There isn’t much room here and I like to keep things neat, something I learned aboard ship in the service I guess.” Even with the windows wide open, it felt hot and humid inside. I could see her complexion glistening as she took another sip. “There’s a great breeze coming in off the bay tonight, why don’t we go outside and enjoy it?”

“I’d love to,” she said.

I led the way outside to where I had a small table and a couple of chairs set up. She walked over to the railing then turned around to face me as I approached her. The thin cotton of her dress was clinging to her every curve, the deep vee neckline revealed the upper curves of her breasts, and every other contour of her body was as evident as if she were naked. Only a beautiful, elegant woman like her could bring it off without looking like a tramp. It must have been pretty obvious that I was staring.

“Just like a man,” she said, showing off that damned smile of hers again. “To get me all hot and steamy inside then invite me outside to catch a breeze.”

“But you may have learned by now that I have an eye for beautiful things,” I replied. “Would you care to sit?”

“No, thank you,” she answered. “I’m sort of enjoying the view from here.”

It was then that I felt her eyes on me and I began to wonder, just what she had in mind. I mean, it was obvious that she had something in mind, but it couldn’t be what I was thinking … or was it? She set her hand on the railing behind her and leaned against it, arching her back, a move that only accentuated the appealing curves of her breasts. The breeze had only served to stiffen her nipples and they protruded into the soft cotton of her dress. She was getting to me. I could feel it in the way I began to perspire and in the way my cock began to thicken. Damn! These boxers did have to be on the snug side didn’t they? I went to stand beside her at the railing.

“Well, the view is almost breathtaking from my vantage point as well,” I said, pulling down another slug of Jimmy. “So tell me, Rebecca, what is a lovely woman such as yourself doing here? I’d think you’d be out with one of your favorite men tonight dining and dancing the night away.”

 

[Tammi]

Rebecca Foresythe

“Oh I suppose I could be doing that.” I replied, a seductive smile playing on my face when I turned sideways facing him. “All dressed up in evening gown, having had a wonderful meal.” My voice was soft matching the look in my eyes staring directly into his. I reached my hand up and with the tip of my index finger traced it slowly across his shoulder and down his arm. “Having him hold me in his arms waltzing across the floor, if that’s what I wanted.”

“Dancing with your man in a nice cool place, beats standing out here in the heat.” Quint’s eyes were locked with mine, although he made no move to touch me, I felt the slight twitch of his arm as my finger progressed.

“Ah, but then a gentle brush of his lips on my neck or an innocent caress or touch across the swell of my breasts can add heat to any place.” I said softly dragging my words, while moving my finger down the dampness of his muscular chest and abdomen.

“Are you sure it would be innocent?” He asked, turning, his body mirroring my own. With only inches between us, he raised his hand, and his finger made a light line from my neck down the damp valley between my breasts.

“It wouldn’t matter how innocent, it highly would depend on what he wanted and if that’s what I wanted.” I answered him feeling as if his eyes were searching mine for an answer to an unasked question. My hand was open with my fingernails grazing over his chest, and damn did he feel.

“So if dancing isn’t what the lady wants, but instead she’s standing on a deck on a hot night like this, what is it she’s looking for?”

“Maybe she’s looking for more than the light brush on the lips, or an innocent touch.” I replied and closed the gap between our bodies, feeling the heat radiating between us. “Maybe she’s looking for that kiss or touch that tells her she’s alive and not just skipping across a dance floor.” My voice was lower, seductive and from the moonlight, he could see the fire in my eyes as my hand moved along his back to the nape of his neck. “Maybe she’s looking for the same things you are at the moment. Would that surprise you?” I asked, my voice whispered, my lips only a breath away from his.

 

[Miltone]

Quint McCann

Maybe it was the stifling heat and humidity, maybe it was the effect of the bourbon, maybe it was the gentle roll of houseboat as it tugged at its moorings, but I could swear that she was coming onto me. The look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, the way her fingers grazed through the light hair on my chest were all seducing me. I had sworn off all women, especially after my divorce and the couple of failed affairs that followed. They all seemed to want something that I didn’t have or couldn’t give.

And now here on a steamy evening one of the richest most influential women in town was making a play. Why? What could I possibly have that she would want? I’m certainly not rich and not exactly a power broker in this town. I’m all right with my looks but I’m not the handsomest guy around. Maybe it was something else. Maybe she saw something in me that I didn’t see myself.

As she moved closer to me, her hand circling around my waist and running up my back, I raised my hands to her shoulders. When I touched her, she tilted her head back a bit and arched her back. I smiled, looking down at her. Without a scrap of makeup she was beautiful. Her complexion was glistening in the heat, her light brown eyes were sparkling in the moonlight, and her high rounded cheekbones and her beautifully proportioned mouth were begging for my kisses.

“Yes, that would surprise me,” I said finally answering her question. “Especially if you’re thinking what I am.”

“And just what would that be?” she asked, her voice still low and husky.

“That your mouth looks very inviting,” I said.

“And that’s all?”

“No,” I said as my hands began to move down from her shoulders, my thumbs trailing along the neckline of her dress. “I’m also thinking that I might want to kiss that pretty mouth of yours.”

“I wouldn’t stop you,” she said, bringing her face closer to mine. “I liked to be kissed.”

“And I like kissing,” I replied, letting my hands slip down over her breasts. I could tell that she wasn’t wearing a bra as I cupped them and felt her stiff nipples press into my palms through the soft cotton of her dress. “But there is only one problem.”

“And what sort of problem would that be, Quint?” she asked, looking down at my hands as I felt her breasts. They were firm and round and fit my hands perfectly. Then she looked back up at me and smiled, showing off her perfect teeth and a hint of her delicate pink tongue. “If there’s only one problem perhaps we can resolve it quickly.”

“Well, you see,” I said, letting my hands trail down from her breasts to her waist and then around to her back and her ass. Damn! She wasn’t wearing any panties that I could tell! As soon as the idea struck my head, my cock began to twitch inside my snug boxers. “It’s been a while since I’ve been with a real woman and I might be a little out of practice. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, seeing that you’re a woman with such high standards.”

“Well, you know what they say,” she said, pressing her body up against mine. “Practice makes perfect.”

I let my face settle down toward hers and felt her breath mingle with mine. Our heads tilted to the side and our lips brushed together. Her lips were as soft and delicious as they looked and our kiss quickly grew heated and urgent. Maybe it had been a long time for her, too. Our arms quickly encircled each other as we pulled our bodies together. We finally had to come up for air.

“See, just like riding a bike,” she said as I kissed her cheek and neck. “Once you learn to do it well, you never forget.”

“Mmm, you may be right about that,” I replied, pulling back to look at her again. There was a definite glow to her smile. “That wasn’t so bad after all.”

 

[Tammi]

Rebecca Forseythe

“Not so bad, I’d say the was very impressive, but let’s try it again, you know practice and all.” I said, smiling at him. Practice was not what he needed, even though it had been quite awhile I had been with a man, this man was not just you’re average kind of guy, he knew exactly how to kiss.

“Too much practice can never hurt.” He said running one hand up my back and I felt his fingers in my hair as he pressed me to him for another kiss.

Our kiss heated immediately and I could feel how hot his hand was against the material of my dress covering my ass when he pressed me tighter to him. I softly moaned into his mouth, the things Quint was stirring in me were quite warmer than I had expected. I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting though, not really knowing for sure if he had been thinking like I was. But so use to the pampering of men because of my wealth and position, I was not prepared for the strength, power and heat he was kissing and touching me with. If I had been wearing panties, they would have been damp already.

“I hate to tell you this Quint, but I find it hard to believe you haven’t done a lot of practicing.” I said catching my breath after our kiss broke. By the way he had me pressed up to him, if I wasn’t mistaken, I thought I could feel a slight rise in his skivvies that tapped the front of my dress.

“I’ve had my share of kissing but I bet I’m not the only one here who has.” He said moving his hand under my chin raising it and I saw the gleam in his eyes, that seemed to pull me in, drawing something from me that I hadn‘t felt before. “You know you are one very beautiful woman, what I find hard to believe is what your eyes seem to be telling me.”

“Why is that so hard to believe? Because you’re salary is pocket change to mine, because I control companies, hold peoples lives in my hand, have that power?” I said soft and seductively. My hand had been on his shoulder but as we had moved closer, I moved it along is back, exploring how hard and muscular he was. “Just because of that, does it mean I’m not a woman first, with the same desires as any other woman, maybe more so.”

“Oh you’re certainly a woman, there’s no denying that.” Quint said dropping his hand away from my chin bringing it down to move over my breast. It was like having no material between us the way his fingers circles and rolled my hard nipple. He could not mistake the small gasp of pleasure I made and the quiver he elicited from me by doing this. With an almost satisfied grin on his face, he stopped, and picked up his drink taking a large swallow of it. “Seems this night is hotter than I expected.”

“Yes, I agree.” I smiled at him, taking a long sip of my drink, my eyes never leaving his. “Of course we could always cool off by taking a swim, there’s definitely enough water around. There is one problem though.”

“And that would be?” He said grinning, and it crossed my mind he knew exactly what I was going to say.

“I didn’t bring a suit to wear. Although being as dark as it is I could just slip this dress off and probably be in the water without being noticed.” I said, placing my drink down, with an I dare you look in my eyes. “Of course, unless you have a problem with that and rather we didn’t swim or would prefer doing something else?”

 

[Miltone]

Quint McCann

“No, I have no problem with it at all, in fact I often take a nice swim before I go to bed,” I said, surprised again by how forward Rebecca was, but loving every moment of it. Seems like most of the women I come into contact with play coy or hard to get or are just downright sluts. Every once in a while I might meet one that falls somewhere in the middle, but those relationships all seemed to get flushed. Guess it goes with being in charge and going for what you want. I admired that trait in men and liked seeing it in this pretty woman … a lot. “But just keep in mind if you strip off that dress that you will be noticed when you get in the water, if only by yours truly.”

“Well, I was kind of expecting that anyway,” she replied.

I reached over to the railing and unlatched the gate that led to a broad diving platform a couple steps below. Rebecca smiled, took one last sip of her drink then set it down, kicking her sandals off her feet. Looking me straight in the eye, she reached down and took the hem of her dress in hand and began to pull it up. Her legs were long and trim and led up to the supple spread of her hips. There was a small trimmed strip of curls just above her sex and a little rose tattoo just to the side on her belly. As she pulled the dress up over her head and off, I couldn’t help but admire her breasts, round and firm with tight rosy nipples that still pointed upward. For someone in her early forties, she was gorgeous! She shook her head back and forth to shake her hair free. I tried to remain cool and collected, but knew she could read my thoughts by looking me in the eye.

“I’m glad you approve,” she said, draping her dress carefully over one of the chairs. She moved over to the gate. “Ready?”

“Yes, but I’d hate to see you skinny dipping by yourself,” I said.

Her eyebrows arched and she smiled again. “That would be so gallant of you,” she laughed. Her eyes followed my hands as they reached for the waistband of my boxers. Hooking my thumbs inside, I pushed them down from my waist slowly, easing them down past the curve of my butt then down in the front so that my cock began to show. Already having grown a bit thick and long from her warm wet kisses and caresses, it dangled proudly as I let the shorts fall to my ankles and stepped from them. The tip of her tongue licked her lips as she looked me over. Her eyes rose back up to mine.

“So nice to see a man who takes good care of himself,” she said as I walked over to the gate.

“Watch your step,” I called out as she started down to the diving platform. “And one other thing, don’t try to touch bottom. It’s pretty deep here.”

I joined her at the edge of the platform. She was giggled softly. “I haven’t done this kind of thing since college.” Then she held her nose, looked at me and jumped off with a big splash.

I dove off the edge knifing through the water and then swam back toward her. She had one hand on the edge of the platform and was brushing her wet hair back from her face with the other. Even dripping wet she was beautiful, her eyes looked bigger and her smile a little broader. As I floated up beside her, our warm bodies brushed together in the cool shadow of the water.

“How good a swimmer are you?” I asked.

“I do a few laps every week at the health club,” she replied.

“Then tell you what. There’s a break wall over there a few yards away. See it?” I pointed toward the dim outline and she nodded. “Why don’t we swim over there, we can climb up on the rocks and see the stars.”

She gave me a puzzled look and nodded again. “Okay, you’re on!” she said.

We pushed off and began to swim across the channel. I can make it across in a couple of minutes, but took my time keeping to a pace that she could keep up with. The water felt cool and refreshing as we moved through it. I asked her how she was doing and she said she was doing okay. She was a good swimmer and soon enough we had reached the break wall and could feel the rocks underneath.

“This way,” I signaled her floating over to the best spot to climb out. We carefully picked our way up from the water. The night air was still so hot it didn’t matter that we were dripping wet. When it looked like she was slipping on the wet rocks, I grabbed her hand and led her up to my favorite spot, a big fairly flat rock, polished smooth by the thousands of waves that had washed over it. Sitting down and leaning back on it, we had a great view of the northern sky. With just a half moon high in the sky, we could see a bevy of stars twinkling.

“Hey, look,” I said pointing upward. “You can see Leo rising and Antlia just below it.”

She chuckled.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s just that when I first met you, I would never have thought you’d be the type who would enjoy sitting out under the stars,” she said, still chuckling. “Not even to say that I’d be sitting out with you all wet and naked like this.”

“There’s probably a lot about me that you haven’t figured out yet,” I said, leaning back on an elbow and turning to face her. Rebecca sat with her knees up and her arms folded on top. The moonlight was glittering on the drops of water that were running down her body, I could see the beautiful outline of her every curve, her shoulders, the pointed tips of her breasts, her belly, her long legs.

“And what about me?” she asked. “Have you got me all figured out yet?”

“Hell no.” I laughed softly. “You’re still one big puzzle.”

“That’s good to know, I guess,” she said, letting her leg closest to me drop down to the side, and shifting her body to face me. “But I would think that a hard-boiled investigator like yourself would take pride in figuring things out, people especially.”

“I do, but you’re different,” I said looking back out to the bay. “For something like the museum theft, I pick every detail apart, evaluate what I find and put it back together until the final answer is found. But with you, I’d rather take my time finding each and every little thing out.”

“And what sort of answer are you expecting to find?” she asked. She shifted closer to me and rested a hand lightly on my thigh.

“Don’t know,” I said glancing down at her hand that was raking her fingernails slowly back and forth over the inside of my thigh. “Cause I’m still not sure what I’ll find once I start looking.”

“So are you looking right now?” she asked, leaning over toward me, her hand moving farther up my thigh.

“Eyes wide open,” I replied looking up to see her bring her face toward mine. I reached over with my hand and guided her lips to mine for a long deep wet kiss. She leaned toward me, moving her wet naked body onto mine, the sharp points of her nipples rubbing on my chest. Our tongues touched and rubbed together, bringing sighs and moans from both of us. “So much for cooling off with a swim,” I said as I leaned back onto the rock and cradled her face with both of my hands.

She just smiled and leaned down to kiss me again. Her hand had reached the top of my thigh and moved over my cock, which was lying up on my belly, already growing long and thick. I felt her fingers curl around it and squeeze gently.

“Too long … been too long,” she whispered in between hot wet kisses.

I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her body down on top of me, crushing her breasts against my chest.

“Been too long for me too,” I moaned. Then I kissed her, deep and hard.

 

[Tammi]

Rebecca Foresythe

My hands went around the back of his head, my fingers combed up the back of his hair pressing him closer to me. I felt the heat of his kiss all the way down to my toes, making them curl.

“God you feel so good.” I sighed breathless from the kiss.

“So do you honey, so do you…”

Our lips met again, our tongues doing a dance of their own, while I rocked my hips slowly pressing against his groin. I was feeling delightful shivers the way his fingers moved down my back and across my ass.

I leaned straight up, my legs falling open to lay against his thighs, feeling his long thick cock pressing against the warm outer lips of my pussy. I smiled softly down at him, he looked so strong, sexy with lust in his eyes making me want him that much more. I moaned when his hands came up cupping and massaging my breasts, his fingers instantly hardening my nipples. Raising up off him some I reached between my legs and took his cock rubbing it in between my puffy folds.

“Oh yeah…” He moaned rocking his hips some.
Slipping it inside my pussy, we both moaned at how good it felt as he slowly entered me until his entire length was buried deep. I leaned over him a little, gripping his shoulders with my hands and gently, I rocked up and down. My pussy was hugging tightly to the fullness of his cock, filling it completely.

His hands fell down to rest on my hips and we fell into a slow easy rhythm at first, savoring the overwhelming feelings building up. My breasts rubbed up and down his chest. As the heat increased, so did our pace and my ass was soon lightly slapping against him. His hands were guiding my hips up and down when he started thrusting long and hard.

“God yes…” I groaned moving to sitting straight up on him. My breasts were tingling as they bounced with our movement, the inner walls of my pussy were trembling around his cock.

 

[Miltone]

Quint McCann

I lay back upon the smooth wet rock that was still warm from the hot sun, and watched as Rebecca’s body bounced up and down on my lap. I pushed my hips up to meet her every stroke, loving the feeling of her tight wet pussy riding up and down the entire length of my cock. There was a sudden urgency to her lovemaking, the whole thing happening so quickly, and it felt so good to be with a woman like this again.

I wasn’t sure exactly, but when she fell forward onto my chest and I pumped hard and fast into her, she moaned deeply and her body began to tremble as if she had cum. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and held her tightly, my hips still rocking up and down.

“Oh, god, yes!” she cried out, and then her lips found my mouth and we exchanged a mad crazy kiss.

She rose up from me, sliding her pussy off my cock, and knelt on the rock between my legs. Leaning forward she began to kiss my chest and lick around my tight little nipples, dragging her teeth over them as well. Kissing her way down over my chest and stomach, her hands soon took hold of my cock, still slick with her wetness, and began to stroke it. And when her mouth closed around the head, I let out a deep growl. She took me deep into her mouth, licking and sucking, moving her head up and down me slowly. I could feel her tongue glide up the underside of the shaft and when she reached the top, she swirled it around and around the head. She knew what to do and how to do it.

“Damn, girl!” I groaned loudly. I rested my hand on her head and held her dark hair away from her face. She paused and looked at me with a devilish smile while her hand stroked me firmly.

“Just practicing,” she teased with her tongue licking around her lips.

“And practice makes perfect, right?”

“Yes it does,” she giggled and then went down on me again, sucking my cock deep into her mouth.

 

[Tammi]

Rebecca Foresythe

Relaxing and letting my throat open, I slid his thick cock down my tongue till it hit the back of my throat, and drawing back up my teeth grazed against it. I felt him shudder and heard a low groan each time I did this while my hand cupped and gently squeezed his balls.

“Fuck Becky…you’re good…” he growled.

I started sliding him in and out of my mouth picking up the pace just a little at a time, sucking him hard when going down and licking or grazing my teeth along his hardness on the way up. After awhile, my head was bobbing up and down pretty rapidly, and I felt him swelling in my mouth, his balls growing hard in my hand. He started thrusting up with his hips, matching me and I reached my other hand under him grabbing one side of his ass cheeks and squeezing.

“Oh fuck…won’t be long now…you might…ahhh…want to….” He groaned.

I sucked him harder, the tip of his cock hitting the back of my throat as my head bobbed rapidly up and down. It wasn’t but another second when I felt his body tense and the first shot of his hot cum hit the back of my throat, then several more shots. I sucked and swallowed, my throat vibrating against his cock as I did. I kept it up, not wanting to miss any of his delicious hot seed, and even moaned letting him know how much I was enjoying this. When I let him pop from my mouth I licked his entire shaft and head, cleaning off the last bit of cum oozing from his tip.

“Now that was fucking good.” I said sitting up and smiling at him, licking my lips. I felt several drops falling at the crease of my lips and wiped it with my finger, then sucked that off too.

“You are one hell of a…” He said, stopping himself, his hands had reached out and his fingers were rolling my nipples.

“A hell of a cocksucker?” I bust out laughing. “Don’t forget, I work in a man’s world and I’ve heard much worse than that, believe me. Especially from those who don’t like me, at least you meant it as a compliment.”

“Yeah, come here now.” He laughed and grabbing my shoulders pulled me down on him.

“You’re actually going to kiss me now, after I just…” I said, rather surprised. I didn’t have to wait for the answer as his mouth claimed mine in a long deep wet kiss.

 

[Miltone]

Quint McCann

I pulled Rebecca down onto me, crushing her breasts against my chest and letting my kiss burn right through her. As unlikely as this pairing was, maybe she and I could bring something to each other that had been missing from our lives, something of which we obviously hadn’t been getting enough. We lay together for a while on the rock, kissing and touching and looking up at the stars, before making out way back down to the water for the swim back.

The water felt cool and refreshing as we swam across the channel slowly. When we reached the diving platform by my place, we paused in the water beside the ladder. My arms encircled her and our warm bodies brushed up against each other lightly. We kissed for a moment, her arms slipping around to hold onto me. Then we moved to the ladder and I let her climb out first, not failing to take in the sight of her gorgeous naked body all dripping wet.

“There’re towels in the cabinet over by the door,” I called out as I climbed up from the water.

She had found them and tossed one over to me. After drying off, she draped the towel around her shoulders so that it hung down over her chest. “What a shame,” I said stepping over to her and spreading the towel apart so that her breasts showed. She smiled. “So how about another drink? A nightcap?”

“Sure. Thank you,” she said and then sat in one of the deck chairs.

Rather than wrap the towel around myself, I tossed it onto the other chair and went inside. I poured a couple more bourbons and carried them out to the deck. I could feel the look of her eyes on my manhood proudly dangling between my legs.

“My, it sure is nice out tonight,” she remarked looking up and away.

“Still pretty warm and humid,” I replied.

We sat and talked as we sipped our drinks. I asked her about her work but she seemed hesitant to say too much. She asked about the investigation and I gave her a brief update. We talked about college and she seemed surprised that I had actually gone. We talked a little about the past, and present, but neither of us brought up the future, both of us unwilling to even consider that issue. I was just content to sit naked with her on this sultry night and share the moments we had together.

By the time our drinks were empty, she got up and toweled off her hair. I watched as she picked up her dress and pulled on over her head, smoothing it down over her curves. I had seen a lot of women undress and a few get dressed and leave, but I didn’t want this one to leave.

“I really should be going, I guess,” she said smiling nervously.

“You don’t have to,” I said getting up from the chair and moving over toward her.

“But I can’t stay here,” she said as I put my arms around her. “Can I? I mean …”

“You can stay here, Rebecca,” I said, running my hands slowly down over her back until they reached her ass. “But only if you want to … really want to.”

She looked up at me, her light brown eyes still sparkling in the moonlight. Her lips parted as if she were going to say something, but she held back. My hands pulled at the soft cotton of her dress, pulling it back up over her ass and waist.

“Quint, I …” she began to say as I backed up and raised her dress up over the firm proud curves of her breasts. Her nipples were taut and puckered. She raised her arms up as I drew the dress up the rest of the way and off her. I tossed it onto the chair.

“You do want to stay, don’t you?” I said, taking her into my arms and backing her toward the door that led inside.

“But I … I don’t know,” she said haltingly. “I’ve got a … a …”

“A morning meeting? Cancel it,” I said, waltzing her through the kitchen.

“No, but there’s a …”

“Whatever it is, you can miss it just this once,” I said, dancing her down the hallway to my room.

“But, Quint …” she said softly as we moved into the bedroom.

My cock was rising quickly and pressing against her belly, her breasts were rubbing against my chest, and our lips were finding each other’s as we fell down onto the bed.