This is a Valentine's Day contest story. Please vote.
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An older man dies happy with a smile on his face on Valentine's Day.
"You knew the deceased?" Detective Walter Martin watched her every facial expression and body movement.
Looking for lies with an experienced, albeit jaundiced eye, a slight pause, an eye blink, a nervous twitch, and/or change in body position, he was trained to do that.
"Yes," said the woman with a cold and unrevealing stare, looking as if she was bluffing, while playing Texas Hold 'em poker.
Only, she wasn't bluffing. Unblinking and not moving, the real deal, revealing no tells, she was a player and was very hard to read.
Smoking hot, she was so very young and so very beautiful. A sometimes model and B movie actress, with her own fire burning down deep inside of her, she was the type that could set off the smoke alarm without even smoking. Already the temperature in the room was ten degrees warmer than it was before she walked in and sat down.
"How did you come to know the deceased?"
"Paul. His name was Paul Robinson," said Jill saying it with an air of respectfulness.
"Sorry, but you didn't answer my question. How did you come to know Mr. Robinson?"
"He was a good man and lived a kind and gentle life. He was a quality human being, a beloved husband, a much loved father, and a respected grandfather," she said slowly and methodically crossing her legs.
Had there been someone sitting in front of her, she would have flashed them her panties, that is, if she was wearing any. Most times she didn't wear panties, but today she was wearing bright white, silk, bikini panties.
"And," he asked her again for the third time. "How did you come to know Mr. Robinson?"
"He was a quality man. I don't waste my time with men who aren't," she said giving him a look that said that she didn't think that he was a quality man without having to say it.
"Yes, yes," he said with impatience in his voice, "I have all of that. He was a wonderful human being, but how did you come to know Mr. Robinson?"
Ready to catch her, already looking at her with suspicion, the detective looked at her with an unblinking stare, as if waiting for her to make a mistake.
"His family called me to meet him," she said matter of fact.
She looked at the detective through big, blue eyes with cool coyness, eyes that any man or any woman could get lost in on a beach in San Tropez, before falling to one knee and proposing their eternal love and undying faithfulness, that is, until she killed them with love and sex. There was nothing coy about this one. That was for sure. Bi-sexual in her sexual orientation, whether her lover was male or female, this Angel of mercy, was a minx.
"So this was your first time meeting him and you didn't know him before this. Is that right?"
"Yes, his family contacted me through my web site, Angel of Mercy dot com," she said looking away from him to look around the room, before she finished answering his question. "I didn't know him before this."
"I see," he said taking notes, even though their meeting was recorded for sound and video. "Why? Why you?"
Leaning back in his chair, he paused to look at the mirrored wall, before nodding his head in that direction. No doubt, whoever was standing back there was checking out her web site.
"I imagine Paul heard of me or maybe saw me in a movie I made, perhaps, and wanted to talk to me," she said softening. She was the type of women you'd remortgage your house, divorce your wife, and abandon your children for the chance to have her in your life. "He was a nice man and I liked him," she said with a soft and sincere smile.
"You expect me to believe that Mr. Robinson contacted you just to talk to you?" He waited for her to respond and when she didn't, he asked another question. "Or did he contact you to have sex with you?"
"Now, Detective, seriously, what man, who isn't a gay man and who is in their right mind, wouldn't want to have sex with me? Look at me," she said sticking out her chest and when she did, her blouse opened enough for anyone looking to see the top of her breasts but not enough to see her nipples, and they were all looking. "Besides, what two consenting adults do behind closed doors is not a crime and none of your business, Detective."
"It sure is a crime, if you were there with the intent and knowledge that what you did will be directly responsible for another's death. Under the letter of the law, that's premeditated murder. If you are there with the intent and knowledge that what you do with be indirectly responsible for another's death, that's manslaughter."
"Prove it," she said challenging him by pushing his button, as if checking his king in a game of chess.
"As part of a homicide investigation, it sure is my business what you and Mr. Robinson did or didn't do behind closed doors. Did you know that Mr. Robinson was terminally ill?"
"I'm not a medical doctor Detective. Other than him telling me, how could I possibly know what his medical diagnosis is or prognosis for life was? That's personal information that he chose not to share with me," she said moving her head to flip her hair out of the way, as if in readiness to lean down to take a cock in her mouth. She was just so damn sexy that no matter what she did or how she moved, as if a siren, she flashed sex across the room. "Besides people die every day from heart attacks before, during, and after having sex. Do you consider those homicides and do you harass them, too, with unfounded accusations of premeditated murder and manslaughter?"
It was hard to tell whose feathers were being ruffled, but it was safe to say that they were both getting a little heated in their dialogue.
"So you admit that you had sexual relations with Mr. Robinson."
"It's no secret that I did. You're technician swabbed my mouth," said Jill moving her head up and back, as if expelling a puff of smoke from her cigarette, even though she wasn't smoking literally but was smoking figuratively. "You already have the semen evidence to that fact. Yeah, I sucked his big, old, wrinkled cock and he exploded a load of sixty-three-year-old cum in my mouth," she said leaning forward and staring in his face, "and I swallowed," she said with a haughty laugh. "I didn't break any laws by having sex with Paul and by giving him a blowjob, did I?"
When she leaned forward her blouse opened and she watched him glance down to look at her exposed breasts. She was such a tease. The type of woman that needed to be slapped around a bit, before being made love to, she'd probably enjoy the pain before the pleasure.
"No, you didn't break any laws having sexual relations with Mr. Robinson," he said, "that is, unless he paid you to have sex with him and to suck his big, old wrinkled, sixty-three-year-old cock. Then, that's prostitution," he said leaning back in his chair and smiling, as if to say, 'Gotcha'.
Still leaning to forward to make sure he got a good look, Jill looked down her top at her tits and the detective's eyes followed hers. Then, she looked up catching him leering at her, again.
"Do you like what you see, Detective?" Jill held open the top of her blouse and peered down again to see what he could see. She followed his eyes with hers, before letting out a loud laugh.
"So, tell me," said the detective changing the subject and getting back on track. "What did Mr. Robinson hear about you?"
"I don't know. You'd have to ask him, but with him being dead, I guess you can't do that, now can you?"
"Don't play games with me sister or I'll throw your ass in jail."
"On what charge, Detective?"
"Helping someone to commit suicide. That's against the law, too."
"Suicide? Don't make me laugh. If you could prove that, you would have charged me with that already. Besides, the District Attorney would be laughed out of court presenting a sexual act between two consenting adults as suicide," she smile with what she was going to say next. "Maybe you're wife, girlfriend, boyfriend, or significant other wants to kill themselves after having sex with you, but I can assure you that, when I finished with him, after Paul fucked me and I sucked him off, I put a big smile on old Paul's face. After I was done with him, if only having the memory of being with me to masturbate over later, he had everything to live for and no reason to kill himself. To be honest with you Detective, I was hoping he'd be my new boyfriend and I was saddened by his untimely demise."
"I'll ask you my question again. What did Mr. Robinson hear about you?"
I imagine he heard that I'm a kind, loving, and sexual woman, Detective," she said slowly crossing her legs the other way. She watched the detective look down, as her skirt moved higher. "I didn't solicit Mr. Robinson, if that's what you're implying. Mr. Robinson had asked his family to contact me. Perhaps, you should ask the family what Mr. Robinson heard about me. Perhaps, you should ask them, what he said about me."
"I see," said the detective. "And how much were you paid to--"
"Fuck you! I have rights, you know," she said suddenly copping a attitude. "I have the right not to answer any more of your stupid, leading questions without having my attorney present. I'm making your job easier by fully cooperating," she said staring directly into the camera, "and all you're doing is insulting me. How dare you? I'll sue this police department for defamation of character and libel for what your captain has already said about me and what was quoted about me in the press."
"We haven't charged you with a crime, Jill, although, if you insist, I can charge you with prostitution and keep you here, until the judge orders bail," he said looking down at his report, before looking up at her.
