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The story contains sexual activities and situations that are to be read only by readers above the legal age of consent. All characters in the story are above the age of consent. The story is not to be read in locations where such stories are illegal. If you are not of legal age, or live in the wrong place, please exit this site immediately.
Author's note: Special thanks go to obsidian with a little o, Lady D, Arianne and my editor Ed. Without whom this story would not have been possible.
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I was sitting in the graveyard as the sun prepared to rise. My rear end was cold and sore from the unresisting concrete bench as I contemplated life and Cindy's grave. It was bad enough that I damned Cindy with my actions and words, but I had also missed her funeral. I found a kind of peace in this desolate place that could not be found anywhere else. Everyone knew that this was my alone time. Well, almost everyone, I was sitting and wishing I could talk to her face to face once more when I heard a woman's voice, shrill and squealing like a rusty wheel, behind me, "Samantha Spade, I must talk to you."
Looking up to the heavens I asked, "Even in the middle of the night, and in a graveyard, people come to me. Is there no peace for me anywhere?" Turning I saw a "bluebottle lady." The matronly woman's hair looked as if someone dumped blue ink on it in the darkness while her dress was in modern tacky and if the fur she wore around her neck were real, I would eat a dead bird. Sighing I said, "Look lady, I don't know you, I don't need your money that bad. So... come to my office after 9 am or not. Either way, leave me alone." Looking past her, I raised my voice, "Jimmy? Will you and Angela show this...lady to the gate?"
"Now, now, Miss Spade. Is that anyway to talk to a Countess?" Her voice grated on my nerves like someone running their fingernails over a chalkboard.
"If you're a countess then I'm a cocker spaniel." I said standing and facing her. I looked past her but did not see ether Angela or Jimmy headed this way.
"I don't have time to teach you manners child. I need your help finding my chider... Errr, daughter." The woman said going nose to nose with me. Whoever she was, she had the aristocratic shtick down pat. She pulled out a passport and handed it to me. "I received a call that this was found at the airport."
It seemed I would not get rid of the old bat unless I at least looked at the passport. Opening it, I saw it was from England and saw a head shot of a lovely young woman. Flipping through it I noticed the entrance stamp but nothing else. Going back to the front, I read the name aloud, "Cynthia Rose Williamson." Looking at the woman, "My rate is one thousand a day plus expenses. I will need a ten thousand down payment in advance... Cash." I knew this would get rid of her. No one carries cash anymore and if they did, not that kind of cash at night in a graveyard.
"Done." She said and opened her oversized purse. She pulled out two bundles of 100-dollar bills and handed them to me. "This should cover twenty days."
I stood there looking at the bills and red passport. Darn it I did not want a case. The rate was just to get rid of her. Now I was stuck again tracking a missing person. I looked up to find a way to tell the woman to piss off. However, she was nowhere to be found.
Jimmy came up with Angela, "You called Sam?" he said.
"What took you so long?"
"What do you mean dear?" Angela replied, "We came just as soon as you called."
"Hmmm..." I looked down at the two bundles and passport. "Let's go home. We have a case."
As I rode in the back of the car, I thought back over my life. There used to be a time when I was alone, Sam Spade detective. That has all changed, now I am the head of
The Hidden Mask
the most exclusive agency in the eastern seaboard. If you have a problem and no one can help you, seek out the "Hidden Mask." The days of doing footwork and whispers to my informants are long gone. Now I sit like a spider at the center of my web while my staff does all the legwork. Even though I am the center and head, I cannot do anything myself any more. The only times I am able to be alone is visiting Cindy's grave and on the pot. Giving a snort of sad laughter, I realize that my staff would wipe me if they had half the chance.
I looked up at Angela's and Jimmy's heads and felt a wave of isolation sweep over me. Here were my two closest friends and loves, and yet I am alone in the back seat, "Jimmy, pull over." When we stopped, I leaned over the front seat, "Track this passport. I want a full profile on my desk as soon as possible." Handing over the cash I added, "Trace this. I want to know if it hot."
"Yes Sam." Angela replied looking at me, "But why did you have us stop here."
"So I can walk." I said getting out.
I could see a look pass between them, "A walk sounds great." Angela said and opened her door.