I visibly cringed when he called me that. I turned towards him and tilted my head in an innocent angle. "I'm not a cop," I pouted. I had to get out of there before the media came along, but then I could really make his day. "I'm just doing community service. I work for Dillon." And that was all the explaining I had to do. No criminal was able to weasel their way out of court if it was Dillon Dosh who sent them there. Sometimes he had to...cough...magically produce solid evidence, but the guys Dillon put in prison belonged there.
The S.W.A.T. agents' drooling expressions hardened and little Robbie's face dropped knowing there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell he wasn't going to prison. I shrugged artlessly enough and turned to my car. I put on my glasses and slid behind the wheel of my slick dark grey Porsche. I drove off the estate singing all the way home. More bad guys needed to be put behind bars and it seems like I'm the only dependable person there is to do it.
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Hi, my name was Denise Lorelei Isabella Weber. I come from a respectable family. Being the only child had its benefits, such as being able to demand for anything I want and get it. One con was that I never had brothers. I always wanted older brothers to beat up all my cheating boyfriends. Not that I had a lot of unfaithful lovers, or lovers in my case, but half of them did cheat, which would be two. The last boyfriend I had was about two years ago, but I don't really count him as a real boyfriend, and I have sworn back to celibacy about half a year ago, since I no longer had to service little Robbie. The reason I never had so many boyfriends is because I supposedly intimidated others and seemed like a cold fish. The first part is partially true only because my parents are rich so I grew up with that airy sense of knowing who am I in the world and the second is not right in the smallest sense. It might be hard to believe now, but growing up I was shy. I never use to venture out and play with other children. My shyness became such a problem that my parents hired private tutors because I was too nervous in my private school to focus. So my last real boyfriend, Jonathan, about three and a half years ago before I got into this bounty-hunter business turned out to be bisexual. Hey, we had our good times. I was happy until he ran away with my male neighbor the day I had decided I would finally give all of myself to him. Then I was pissed and I cursed men and the lot of them. Men are evil, nasty creations of God who cannot be trusted and the world does not need. That's why God also created vibrators. He saw the mistake he made in making mankind and showed us once and for all that men were truly useless. Why do you think we have so many lesbians now? It's because men have failed us! And I hope John gets AIDS! Then I think about poor Robert. I put him away for good, sacrificed him to the wolves. I laughed. It was pretty funny. I should pay him a visit. Nah, I would never jeopardize my cover to go poke fun at Robert or any of the other twelve federal offenders I helped put away. Then there are the thirty-four in State of California prison and one man in isolation prison.
As I was saying before I blow my head up anymore. I come from a respectable family, no siblings, and total of four 'boyfriends' in my pathetic twenty-six years of breathing. Oh yeah and I work for Dillon Dosh. Now he is one man God should use as a standard in which to create the opposite sex by. He is not well known to the public. Though many government officials hear rumors about him and the government itself would never admit to needing his help. It is because he plays dirty. Most Italian men do and if they looked half as good as he, they'd be wickedly evil. He told me he was twenty-seven when we met, which would make him thirty now. I had been training at a police enforcement agency and often got in trouble because of my uh, unconventional ways before I began working for Dillon.
When we met I had just blown a mission with one of my ingenious plans that did not work out as well as I had hoped. I was put on probation and Dillon offered me a job, but I had to cut relations with everyone I knew. I scoffed at him and offered to bring him to a clinic because it seemed he was in need of some professional help. He gave me his card and vanished.
A week later there were two more murders involving the escaped target. I called him the moment I saw the news in some ludicrous idea I could do something about it. He picked up the line barley before it rang twice. I could hear his grin in the tone of voice as though he was expecting my call. I decided to work with him and wrapped up the case in five sleepless days. I found the guy and did a bit of my own disciplining that would most definitely have me removed from the academy, but then again I already quit. Dillon had his men move in and take care of my packing up. Denise Lorelei Isabella Weber was dead. And Lora Rose Mitchell was born. I severed ties, burned bridges and buried hatchets. I was set on bring world peace. That was my goal ever since winning my first beauty pageant when I was three. I won all the pageants I was entered in up until I stopped at eighteen. I was pretty disappointed to find out there would never be world peace. The real world could damage an ignorant child like me. I was sheltered from the poisons of the real world by my over-protective Protestant parents who think I am dead now.
My mother had a breakdown two years ago. She could not cope that her only child was dead. My father was worried about her health and they retired to an estate on Maui. Here I am now, a bounty hunter. Dillon my mentor that I do not see as much anymore has been surprisingly quiet of the late. Not as though I would care to hear from him though. We both know that it we could both be on friendlier terms and for a while we were.
I know it was a stupid reason why I broke it off, but I felt hurt that my first lover would suggest I whore around for him. Protocol, casual sex was to be expected in the business. When I asked him if he was sleeping with other woman to gain information while with me, he grew quiet and then said I was being too emotional and unprofessional. Too human. And it was pathetic. He said we should never mix our personal life with our business life. I was furious and snapped at him saying, "So am I part of your personal life or business?" and stormed out of his apartment. I got wasted that night and woke up at my apartment tucked in my bed with my sleeping pajamas on and a cup of water on my counter along with RU-21 pills. He makes it so hard for me to just hate him.
I cried for days, non-stop. A month later I thought I was all right and stopped at a café and I remembered the mornings I would wake up in bed to find Dillon was watching me sleep as he sipped his cup of coffee. I scared a lot of workers when I receive my coffee, crying my eyes out. I had to dash out of the café to avoid making a scene. Once, I cried uncontrollably and spilt my steaming coffee all over myself right before I got into my car. I sat behind the wheel in the parking lot crying until I got exhausted and headed back to my apartment where I crashed until the evening.
Then I decided I wouldn't be a baby about it anymore and told Dillon my vacation was over and I was ready to start working again. He made a joke about teaching me how to be seductive and I declined saying that I did not need him teaching me how to seduce legions of woman. He laughed and he seemed less tensed. If ever he was jealous about what I did, he made a good show seeming he wasn't.
I once had to pose as a stripper to a bachelor party that Dillon was in attendance for some son of a black market arms dealer. It would have been much more fun if Dillon's indifferent expression changed when the handsome target was groping me. But not Dillon, Mr. Professional, who knew, to my mortification, that I was trying to make him jealous. While I was performing my lap-dance routine, he gave me a stop-looking-at-me-Lora-and-pay-attention-to-seducing-that-arm-dealer's-son glare. Yup, reads my mind every time.
I felt my cell buzz and laughed out-loud before answering. Speak of the devil! I waited a few more rings then answered.
"Hey it's me," said a husky voice on the other end.
