Dangerous Behavior, Part Seven

Hey Spankophiles!!!!

You know what? Today is Friday. The day I post to my blog. Just figured that out. I shopped all day, came home, put away a bunch of stuff and I just got on my computer. I surfed the net, checked Facebook and all that when I noticed the date up in the right hand corner. Friday. Oh.

So my apologies, Paul and PK, I totally screwed up your Comment Competition. Who will go first? Who will catch on that Michelle forgot totally about it being Friday until right now? We’ll see.

Anyway, I hope you all have a fabulous weekend. My cousin is coming for Saturday dins and we have Scrabble buddies coming on Sunday. Yay! Company! House is clean, fridge is stocked, we are READY. Wheeeeeeee! Weather should be awesome, wisteria is blooming, orchids are blooming, camellias, roses, red hot pokers, the orange tree is blossoming, it’s amazing in the yard. So we’re gonna barbeque and drink some libations and generally laze about.

Next week, the conclusion of Dangerous Behavior and hopefully, I’ll remember to post on time!

Hugs and love to you all,
Michelle

Two hours later, Beverly was in a severe black suit wearing glasses, working on a laptop in the lobby of the Marriott. She knew the men were meeting in a hotel room. She’d bribed the front desk girl and gotten the connecting room next door. She’d set up a recorder with a microphone under the door and a flexible camera. She hoped she got some good info. She might be able to break this case herself. Then her bosses would never fire her.

Mitch kept intruding in on her thoughts, annoying her. She was barely going out with him and she was already worried about what he thought about her.

She was also worried about that penchant of his for spanking her. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she could withstand another trip over his knee. As it was, sitting was no fun. Luckily, the chair she sat in was poofy enough to cushion her tender behind.

As she played Scrabble, she observed all the people coming and going from the hotel. She would wait for Baldo and then follow him up to the room. She wanted to make sure he went to the right place.

About ten minutes to nine, Beverly began to worry whether the information was correct. While the front desk confirmed the reservation, anything could have gone wrong.

A man strolled by her, she looked up as the man gazed down at her. Her heart nearly stopped. Baldo, in the flesh. A tall man in his early sixties, he had a bulbous nose, thinning gray hair and watery blue eyes. His features were severe, his face pock marked. He lit up and winked at her. Oh, God, he honestly thought he was hot. How disgusting.

She nodded and returned to her screen. That’s right, Baldo was a reputed ladies man. Yuck.

She watched out of her peripheral vision as he met another man, a short Mediterranean- looking guy and they left the lobby. She calmly closed her laptop, put it in her case, got up and casually walked to the elevators. Baldo was already gone.

She pressed the button, the elevators opened. She stepped inside and hit the button for the tenth floor. As the doors closed, she looked out into the lobby, a man caught her attention. Her heart stopped when she recognized him. Mitch. Her mouth gaped open, he spied her, his features hardened, the doors closed. Thinking quickly, she hit the button for the third floor. When the doors opened, she hit the closed button. That way he’ll think she stopped at the third floor.

Oh, dear, was she in trouble. It was too much of a coincidence that he was there. The Feds and the local police must be setting up Baldo. She wondered if they’d already bugged the room. Maybe she should back off. But what if she were wrong?

The doors opened, she quickly went to her room. Thankfully, she’d checked in under an alias. She quietly opened the door and slipped inside. She set down her laptop and opened the connecting door. She turned on the recorder and listened in with headphones.

“…I didn’t like coming here…” she heard Baldo say.

“Oh, stop whining,” said the other man. “I’m a respectable businessman, no one suspects my side work. Now… the heat is on this whole thing. I heard through a reliable source that the Feds may be on your tail. What’s up with that? Why don’t you stop that?”

“I don’t have all the control, you know. I’m only a councilman. But if all goes right, a congressional seat may be in my future.”

“You? A congressman? Wouldn’t that be sweet?”

“I think so. But I need you to do another job for me.”

“I figured.”

“There’s a journalist after me, a Miss Beverly Whelper. Works for the Chronicle. She was a friend of the Lydons. She’s been poking around, bribing some of my contacts. She lives in Burlingame. I need her taken care of. Make it look like a robbery/rape thing.”

All the wind got sucked out of her lungs; the room took a spin. She had to clutch the dresser for support. But when she put her hand out to brace herself, her hand slid, she fell forward and knocked against the connecting door.

Horrified, she pushed back, grabbed the recorder and was throwing it behind herself when the door opened. Both men stood there, staring down at her.

She screamed at the top of her lungs. The Mediterranean hitman dove for her, slamming her to the floor. She fought wildly, but the guy was a professional. He easily latched his hands around her throat and squeezed.

“Not here!” Baldo implored. “Not here! They know we’re next door.”

“I’m going to strangle her, then we’ll move the body,” the man said.

Black spots dotted her vision, she reached out and latched onto his balls with everything she had left.

He screamed and let go to clutch himself. Choking and gasping for breath, she tried to sit up. He punched her hard, her head slammed against the carpeted floor. She screamed as loud as she could.

The door burst open and Mitch was there, followed by several other suited men. Her assailant jumped up to face them. He didn’t even get a chance. With one solid hit, Mitch punched him flat. The other men rushed the hitman and subdued him,

Mitch fell to her side and took her in his arms. “Beverly, are you okay?”

She coughed. “Now I am.”

“Thank God,” he said so quietly only she could hear. He crushed her in a hug.

Baldo began blabbering. “I have no idea what’s going on here, this woman attacked us and—“

Mitch glared up at him and said, “Shut up,” in the most deadly tone she’d ever heard out of him.


Six hours later, she and Mitch pulled up at her house. Her deposition had been taken, Baldo was in jail, along with her assailant. As it turned out, the Feds had his room bugged. She’d almost blown the whole operation. Mitch was not happy with her. Neither were his bosses, nor the FBI. Luckily, she didn’t break the law. But they did give her a very plain warning.

Mitch followed her inside. He’d been very quiet. She was nearly sure she’d blown her chances with him. While she should have been happy that Baldo would go down for his crimes, she found herself more upset that she’d lost an opportunity for a good man.

“We need to talk,” he said in a grave tone, his face hard.

©2008, Michelle Carlyle