We are leading up to understanding all of the characters that fill TT Spalding's life but the path is sometimes winding and uncertain. This is a prelude to Maggie's story, which will follow shortly. For all you fans of TT, please enjoy and be patient.
Edited by Angel Love as always. Several
changes in this version are at her suggestion so if you see mistakes, they are mine.
TT Spalding, PI – The St. John Affair
.
I know I promised Maggie I would work on the final report for a case we had just finished, but I didn't feel like working right now. I put down my copy of Mickey Spillane's novel,
I, the Jury
, his first Mike Hammer book and one of my favorites (well, hell, weren't they all?) and turned on the computer. When it finished booting up, I opened the My Document folder and clicked on the file labeled
The Cobra
. That was the temporary title of my novel: the one that was going to be published as a ghost written story. You know, under Mickey's name as 'Inspired by'. People did it all the time so why couldn't I?
I scrolled down to Chapter 3 and began reading:
I raised my head carefully, looking over the top of the bank where I lay concealed from view. There were three of them. I spotted the first two pretty easy. Very sloppy of them, but that was good for me. Then I saw the third when he struck a match, lighting up. Stupid, but also good for me. I slid back down the little rise and checked my gun. I was loaded, one in the chamber, and two extra clips. I was ready. I moved slowly around the rise and snuck a quick look before running, hunched over to minimize my outline, to the packing crate I noticed coming in. I was in position.
I waited, looking for him to come into view. They had arrived a few minutes ago and were just now walking down the ramp to the dock. There he was! The Cobra! The man that controlled everything that went on around these docks. And he had her with him. His squeeze, his mistress and the subject of my dreams. I could just see her golden locks peeking out from under the scarf she wore. I could hear the tap of her spike heels against the concrete surface, matching his heavier sounds. They moved to the middle of a section illuminated by a single overhead light, she two steps behind him, and stopped.
After a small delay, the first two I had spotted moved into the light carrying a suitcase. This must be the stuff. The newest drug on the market. The latest designer drug for the masses. The formula was included and the purchase price was a stiff 2 mil. I had heard on the grapevine that the payoff was tonight.
I sat back with a satisfied grunt. Damn! This was good stuff. I had it going now. All I had to do was decide how to make it go down. Mike Hammer would take it slow and careful, like he did in
My Gun is Quick
so that's how it was going to be. Mike knew his stuff. All I had to do was have him follow the Cobra back to his car and . . . .
My office door opened. "TT, are you working on that report for Mr. Chambers? You promised to give it to me by 3:00 and it's already 3:15. You're not working on that damned book again are you?"
That was my Maggie. My rock, my love and my soul mate, but not my muse. Never my muse! She didn't understand the literary drive that was in me. I had to write this tome, my tribute to Mickey Spillane. It was a curse, but there it was. It had to be done. I promised Mickey's spirit the night he visited me. And yes, he visited me. And no, damn it, it was not just a bad case of gas like Maggie insisted! Mickey came to me! He said "TT, you have to write this book for me. Make me proud!" I kid you not!
Maggie walked in and spun the monitor around so she could see it before I thought to blank the screen. Damn the woman was fast. Fast and sneaky. But God was she beautiful when she was angry! She looked at the screen, put her hands on her hips and glared at me. I smiled back while I raised my eyebrows in what I hoped was a sexy move.
"Damn you Theodore Terrell! How many times do I have to tell you. We don't have time for this. We need the money and that report to Mr. Chambers will bring in the rest of the $15,000 he owes us. We need it now, not in a few weeks or a few months. Now! So get cracking on it and don't you dare stop till it's finished. Do you hear me?"
"I hear you babe. And you know how hot you are when you're mad at me? Why don't you come here and sit on my lap while I finish that report. I promise I'll work on it and not try to ravish you."
"Not a chance buster. I want that report and then we can talk about other things. If you get it done soon, I just might close the office a little early and then you and I can discuss our options. Maybe a visit to the stockroom to inventory the supplies?"
The stockroom! I groaned under my breath. Oh God, that was not playing fair. Maggie had made the stockroom the scene of some of my best erotic dreams. She knew just what buttons to push, that's for sure. I tried to stop myself from drooling. "I'm on it now babe. I'll get it done in no time. Just you get yourself ready for old TT."
She smiled at me, taking the sting out of her earlier words and walked toward the door, giving me a great view of her backside. She was doing her best to remind me of what was waiting for me. I knew. Oh yes, I knew! I saved and closed my latest work and opened the report to Ted Chambers. That case was closed and the bad guys were identified. Ted had cleaned house once he had the facts and he was very grateful to Bruno and I for finding the guys responsible for his losses. Bruno had taken just six days to nail them in the act. Bruno earned himself a nice bonus for that job. A cool grand!
I was pounding the keys and making some final changes when Maggie stuck her head in the door again. I was about to tell her to back off and let me finish when she said very slowly, "TT, you might want to let that go for awhile. There's someone here you'll want to talk to."
"But baby! It's getting late. What about the report and the stockroom. Come on Maggie. Not now! Not after you promised!" I was panicked. No stockroom? No Maggie on my lap? No. . . . Crap!
Maggie just chuckled, pulled back, said something to someone and opened my door. I don't know how to say this any different except that my heart stuttered in my chest and my eyes grew wider than I knew possible as this vision walked into my humble office. How do I describe that moment? Let me try for posterity.
She was tall, about 5'10" tall. She was slim and at first glance appeared skinny but she wasn't. You could tell right away that under that simple snug white dress that covered her completely from neck to knee, she was amply endowed. Her legs were magnificent, even the little I could see between the bottom of that tight dress to the top of those high boots with the three inch hells. I noticed her chest of course. My weakness. She had to be a C cup at least and maybe more. Her waist was tiny and flared down to hips that were perfect. I couldn't see the backside but I knew it was also perfect. And the face! I had imagined angels when I was a small Catholic boy in the Bronx and this was what they looked like. Skin, pale and almost translucent, eyes of icy blue and slightly slanted, indicating some oriental blood. A mouth pouting, wanting to be kissed, lips slightly parted showing a hint of perfect white teeth. Her hair was platinum, perfectly straight, chin level and cropped close to her skull, combed over her right eye.
I stared at her for what seemed like minutes but apparently lasted only seconds. She stood there, almost as if she was used to my kind of reaction and waited. Maggie stood in the open doorway, a slight frown on her face as she watched me. The frown was not terrible so I knew she also expected my reaction. I looked into her eyes and she smiled. Apparently I was forgiven. Maggie closed the door and walked over to her side.
"Mrs. St. John, this is TT Spalding, my husband. TT, this is Tiffany St. John. She has something she wants to show you. She would like our help with it. I'll join you if you don't mind. I've closed the office door so we won't be disturbed."
I motioned our guest to the straight back chair in front of the desk. The one I kept for clients to make them not want to stay and chat. For the first time, I wished I had more comfortable chairs. Maggie took the only comfortable one, next to me. She leaned over to whisper, "Be good now."
"How can I help you Mrs. St. John? What is it you want to show me?" I tried to slip into my professional mode. It was difficult with her sitting across from me and my Maggie sitting next to me. All I could do was try to maintain my cool and not let my desires cause the tent in my slacks that Maggie could see all to easily get any bigger.
She handed Maggie a CD that she took from her purse. "Please put this in if you would. And before it starts, please don't be embarrassed to comment. You have to see this before you understand why I need your help."
Maggie slipped the CD into the player, turned on the TV and pushed play on the remote. We settled back to see what brought Mrs. St John into our office. I looked over at Maggie but she simply shrugged not knowing what was coming. So, we watched.
The scene opened with a view of a large bed in a room in some motel that could have been anywhere. The camera was fixed and the view didn't change but as we watched, a naked man moved into the view followed by a woman dressed only in a thong. Her back was to the camera but there was little doubt that we were watching the beautiful ass of the woman sitting across from us. It was confirmed as she slid past the man and sat on the edge of the bed turning and facing the camera. She appeared to be giggling and saying something to the man. He then pushed forward, and the woman took him into her mouth. I reached for the remote to push stop, but Mrs. St. John spoke.