Dichotomy

Prologue

Drive, just fucking drive and get us out of here, now," she said as she jumped into the waiting car.

What went wrong? the man behind the wheel asked.

I don’t fucking know, but it was a fucking setup, and when I find out who the fuck set us up, I’ll fucking kill ‘em.

The guy behind the wheel took off like a bat out of hell. He figured he had about fifteen seconds on the police. He had the advantage, the police had red lights, sirens and radios, but he had ruthlessness on his side. Personally, he could care less if someone was injured in a high-speed chase, the police did, and that was how he had the advantage.

What about Tommy? the driver asked, speeding through a red light. The car legally entering the intersection saw him just in time to slam on his brakes. The car behind him didn’t. The first car avoided the accident only to be rear ended. The force of the collision caused the driver’s foot to slip off the brake and swerve into oncoming traffic. He hit another car head on. The intersection was blocked.

The woman passenger, a blond, turned her head. Good job Harry, she said. That’ll get us a few seconds on the cops.

A few, Harry said, but that’s all.

That’s all we need, she agreed.

So, what about Tommy? Harry asked.

Dead! There was a cop there waiting. I barely made it out. The cop killed Tommy, I killed him. They were waiting for us, fucking waiting. She slammed her fist into the upholstery of the dashboard.

I’m sorry about Tommy, Leah. I know how you felt about Tommy.

He’s fucking dead, Harry. They fucking killed him. Someone is going to pay for this.

Well it wasn’t me, Leah. You know that, Harry said, never taking his eyes off the road. He was approaching a school zone. The sign said speed limit fifteen, he was doing sixty. He looked in his rearview mirror. "Company.

Punch it, Harry, the fucking cops aren’t going to kill a bunch of school kids. Punch it.

Harry smiled, no problem, Leah.

The crossing guard had just entered the street with his stop sign to stop traffic so the kids could safely cross. The guard saw the black Eclipse moving like a bat out of hell with cop cars in hot pursuit. He knew the car wasn’t going to stop. His only thought was for the kids. He knew he had to herd them back off the street.

See if you can clip grandpa, Harry, but not any kids. I don’t care about him, but I’d rather not take out a bunch of kids unless we have to.

Not a problem, Leah, Harry said. He saw a hole in the pedestrian traffic. Without an ounce of remorse, he hit the crossing guard, sending him flying, but missed all the school children. The guard landed hard on the street. The last thing he saw was that the kids were safe.

The kids began to scream. The cops slammed on their brakes. The captain in the lead car picked up his microphone. Break off! Break off all pursuit. Then he began to beat his fist against the dash. Fuck! We had ‘em.

How much more, Harry? Leah asked. Seeing the pursuit had quit, at least for now.

Block and a half.

Good driving, Harry, she said. You only took out grandpa. I’d have felt bad if you would have run over some kids.

Why? There just fucking rug rats.

I guess it’s my maternal instincts, Leah said.

Harry laughed, Yeah, right.

A block and a half later, with no pursuit, he pulled into an abandoned factory. He stopped the car and got out. Three motorcycles were there on kick stands.

Good job of driving, Harry, she said. I’ll call you. This was a fucking fiasco. Give Jensen about six months. He’ll have something else in mind, but I’m sure he’s going to need to take care of a few things first. I’m guessing he has a good idea as to who set us up.

Right. Jensen knows he can reach me through you, Leah. I’ll be waiting for your call. I’m really sorry about Tommy.

Yeah, me too. There were tears in her eyes. Harry couldn’t ever remember seeing Leah cry. Ever! I’m sorry about this, Harry, but your share of nothing is nothing.

That’s okay, Leah. I learned a long time ago that they all don’t go as planned and you need to stockpile a little away just in case.

Maybe, but I know Jensen planned this too carefully to come away with nothing. Jensen always plans everything right down to the last detail. I’m telling you, Jensen will make someone pay.

It happens, Leah, especially when someone squeals.

And I swear, Harry, he will pay.

She got on her motorcycle, put her hair under her helmet and calmly rode away. She broke no laws. Several police cars passed her going the opposite direction with their red lights on. They didn’t give her a second glance. They were looking for a black Eclipse with a man and woman inside, not a single person on a Harley.

Two hours later, a strikingly beautiful brunette walked into the Seattle Airport wheeling her suitcase behind her. She was wearing a short skirt, high heels and a low-cut blouse. She passed several cops looking for a blond woman. She smiled at them as she went past. They were looking for a blond woman with shorter hair and green eyes. She would be traveling with a man, and would avoid any direct eye contact with the cops. The woman the police were looking for would be nervous and trying to escape the city. It wasn’t this woman, she had shoulder length dark hair and blue eyes. She was much too calm, just a normal businesswoman going home. So, since it wasn’t her, their gaze drifted from her face to her cleavage. Each and every officer smiled at her as she passed and thought the same thing, nice tits. Later, when it was decided that the woman in question didn’t take a plane out of town, the officers all remarked about the woman with the nice rack. No one could remember her face, only her cleavage.

After passing five or six cops, all checking her out, the brunette came to security. She showed her ID, put her suitcase and purse on the conveyer belt, removed her high heels and walked through the metal detector. Nothing went off, and no one bothered her. The guards were all women, so they didn’t bother to stare at her cleavage, which disappointed the brunette. She would rather they stare at her tits than her face, but it was okay.

She came to her gate, showed her ID again and her ticket. Good evening Ms Hamilton, the ticket person said as he took her first-class ticket. I hope you have an enjoyable flight to St Louis tonight. Are you traveling on business? He found it difficult to make eye contact. He did his best, because he knew how much women hated to have men stare at their boobs, but she had such nice ones.

Yes, she said. Time to go back home.

Have a good flight, Ms Hamilton, he said and then moved on to the next person in line, another woman.

Beverly Hamilton found her seat in first class. Men are such predictable pigs, she thought. Show enough tit and leg, and the men will forget about everything else. Then she felt the tears returning. Can’t cry for Tommy now. I’ll grieve later.

The plane landed on time in St Louis. There, Beverly Hamilton became lost in the crowd, and Allison Cartwright boarded a different plane. This one was bound for Pittsburgh, her final stop. Anyone tracking Leah or even Beverly Hamilton wouldn’t get past St Louis.

Chapter One

Six Months Later

The Pittsburgh Queen was a luxury river paddle boat owned by the Louisville Cruise Lines out of Louisville, Kentucky. It travels from Pittsburgh to New Orleans, with stops in Wheeling, Cincinnati, Louisville, Evansville, and Cairo, Illinois. From there it goes North to St Louis, and then back to Cairo. It continues south and stops in Memphis, Baton Rouge, and finally in New Orleans. It turns around and makes the same trip back to Pittsburgh, stopping in the same cities in reverse order.

The Pittsburgh Queen, has two other sister ships, the New Orleans Paddler and the Louisville Steamer. These boats cruise at the mind-boggling speed of eight miles an hour. The trip one way is almost two thousand miles, and passengers can enjoy travel on the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers as it was back in the by gone era of real paddle boats.

The cruises last fourteen days with overnight stops only in Cincinnati, Louisville, St Louis and Memphis. The stops in Wheeling, Evansville, twice in Cairo and Baton Rouge are short stops for several hours only. The boats stay in both Pittsburgh and New Orleans for three days, making a round trip in forty days.

Passengers can book the trip one way, round trip, or just part of the trip. A complete one-way trip cost fifteen thousand dollars a person. When Carter Hudson started the company twenty years ago, people thought he was nuts. Who would want to spend that kind of money to travel between Pittsburgh and New Orleans? Hudson figured there would be a market for this, allowing people a break from the breakneck pace of modern day travel. Hudson proved to be right, and now the cruises are booked about a year in advance, especially for the autumn cruises when color change occurs.

Because of winter conditions, the last cruise leaves both Pittsburgh and New Orleans the Sunday before Thanksgiving, getting to the other end port two weeks later. Two boats would winter in New Orleans, cruising the Gulf of Mexico for the snowbirds. One boat would winter in Pittsburgh. The cruises started up again the first Sunday in April. The crews sign on for the entire eight months, but after a couple trips, they can usually get a week or two off for vacation.

In addition to having a repair facility in New Orleans, there is one in Louisville and one in Pittsburgh. The main facility is in New Orleans, only because that is where two boats are wintered, therefore that is where the major repairs and renovations take place.

Each boat has six decks above the waterline. Passengers on the top deck are sixty feet above the water. There are almost two hundred cabins on each boat. In addition, the cruise offers luxury cabins, three top notch meals per day, pools, spas, fitness and exercise rooms, miniature golf, and entertainment which are included in the cost of the fare. The various bars, barber shop and beauty salon, gift shops and movie theaters are extra. Tours of the ship are also given at no cost.

Five years ago, Hudson was able to get special licenses from all the states he traveled through for river boat gambling. Now the passengers can gamble from the beginning of the Ohio River to the delta of the Mississippi. With the addition of gambling, the cruises have become so popular, that Hudson was planning to add a fourth boat to the fleet next April. It would be the Memphis Belle in honor of the old bomber.

Davie Watkins was looking forward to a nice leisurely cruise to New Orleans. This would be the last trip of the year for the Pittsburgh Queen. When it reached New Orleans in two weeks, it would be mid-November. It could turn around and make the trip back to Pittsburgh, but this was one of the two boats scheduled to remain in the Gulf this winter.

Watkins boarded in Wheeling, where he lived. He was traveling to Pittsburgh where he was meeting a woman. Together they would travel to New Orleans. They had adjoining cabins. Like in hotels and motels, there was a door connecting the two cabins. About a quarter of the cabins had this on the Pittsburgh Queen for the very reason Watkins booked them. He had a cabin and his traveling companion would have her own cabin. This allowed them some privacy and a place to escape each other on the fourteen day cruise, if needed, but when they wanted to be together, they had the adjoining door.

Watkins had never met this woman. Her name was Vicki Anderson, and from her pictures, she was stunning. They met online about two months ago, and with a little luck and a nice bribe, he had managed two adjoining cabins. He would have liked to make the trip earlier so they could have made it a round trip, but even with generous bribes, this was the first available cruise he could get with the adjoining cabins.

Vicki said it had to be adjoining cabins. She was very specific about that. She wanted to be close to him because as she said, she was going to fuck his brains out, all the way down to New Orleans. But she still wanted a place to retreat to. It’s true they could have gotten cabins on different decks or even the same deck, but she wanted them adjoining. She said she liked the idea of screwing him within an inch of his life, and then being able to walk back to her own cabin naked without anyone seeing her. With logic like that, how the hell could Watkins refuse.

Vicki didn’t live in Pittsburgh, she lived in Buffalo, New York. She was a computer programmer there for GCB&T, which he learn used to be the Grover Cleveland Bank and Trust, but the current members of the Board decided they liked GCB&T better, more trendy, and modern. He wanted to drive up to Buffalo before the cruise, but she said she couldn’t. There were three reasons, and they were all about sex! She had two kids, and she didn’t want them asking why some strange guy was sleeping with mommy. She also told him that she didn’t want to worry that the kids might see something mommy didn’t want them to see, like mommy giving him a blow job in the living room. Finally, she said, why give her ex any more ammunition than he already had if he decided he wanted custody of the kids.

She had vacation time coming. Her mother would watch the kids while she went on the cruise. She told her mother she was hoping to meet a nice guy, so her mother had no problem with this. Besides, it would give grandma and grandpa almost three weeks to spoil the grandkids before she got back to Buffalo. She had the vacation time coming, so that wouldn’t be a problem. All they needed was two adjoining cabins.

Vicki’s main problem was the cost of the trip. She really wanted to go and really wanted to meet him, if you know what I mean, she said, but the cruise was fifteen thousand plus the cost of getting to Pittsburgh and then the cost of getting back to Buffalo. A computer programmer at GCB&T in Buffalo just didn’t make that kind of money.

He smiled as he thought about that. yeah, he could swing the thirty thousand he told her. Actually, it was nothing, he could afford it easily, and what he didn’t tell her was, this was a business trip. Thirty thousand dollars was nothing compared to what this trip would net him.

He would fuck this gorgeous creature’s body and then he would fuck her mind. After a few sessions of what Watkins liked to call his two love tools, his dick and his tongue, Vicki Anderson would do whatever he wanted her to do. Then he would have a computer programmer at GCB&T in Buffalo in his pocket.

The Seattle bank job had been a nightmare. He still didn’t know what went wrong. He had done his part, but somehow the cops had found out. There had to be an informer. He only mentioned the job to one person, some bitch he met in Seattle. He didn’t even tell her about the bank job. No, all he did was joke about it with her, about knocking off the main branch of the First National Bank in Seattle.

She was interested, intrigued even. What was his role she wanted to know? He told her he would crash the security systems and the computer systems. In the confusion, it would be easy for the bank to be robbed.

Really? she asked, like he couldn’t do it.

Piece of cake, he said.

When’s it going to happen? she asked intrigued even more.

Watkins got worried. Maybe he said too much. Two weeks from tomorrow, he told her, lying.

You really going to do that? she asked again.

Na, he said, I was just joking. I sell hospital supplies. I’ve got an appointment at the Swedish Medical Center. My company makes bed pans, and all kinds of shit like that. They sent me out here from Wichita to try and land this account. My company wants to expand into the west. They figured this area would be a great place. I have appointments at Harborview, Virginia Mason and Children’s Hospital as well. Next week I’m in Portland pushing bedpans there. It’s not very glamourous, selling bedpans. That’s why I tell everyone I’m a bank robber.

She bought the story. He knew he had screwed up. It was a good thing he could think on his feet, and that was that.

The next day, he did his part. He crashed everything, and then was nowhere near the bank when the job went down. He didn’t need to be. With his handy laptop and internet connection, he could do his job anywhere. Problem was, nothing crashed. All the passwords were changed overnight, and the cops were waiting. Tommy was killed. Somehow Leah and Harry managed to escape. He didn’t know if it was his fault or not. This was a big job, and there was a lot of different assignments, a lot of different players. Tommy, Harry and Leah were only part of the team. He knew that Leah would be pissed, but there was no way she could trace it back to him. He wasn’t even sure if it was that bitch that went to the cops. Who he really feared was Jensen.

He had never met Jensen. That was Jensen’s idea. The caper was compartmentalized. No one knew all the players. That way if something went wrong, only a few people would go down. Tommy had been his contact with Jensen, and Tommy was dead. That was good and bad for Watkins, but mostly good. Watkins didn’t know who Jensen was, he had never met the man, so that should also mean that Jensen wouldn’t know him. With Tommy dead, Jensen would have no way of knowing who tipped the police in Seattle.

Yeah, Leah was still alive, but Tommy was the one that ran the show. From what Watkins had seen, Jensen planned the caper and then recruited the people through Tommy. Tommy carried out Jensen’s plan, Leah was just another cog in Jensen’s wheel, just another player like Watkins, but Leah and Tommy had gotten close. It was Leah who supposedly recruited Harry. So, Watkins thought, maybe he had nothing to fear from Jensen after all, and now he would have Vicki.

After Vicki had a few sessions with the love tools, Watkins would have no trouble learning what he needed to know from her about the computer systems of GCB&T in Buffalo. This time he would need no one, no Jensen, no Tommy, no Leah, no Harry and no bitches that could go to the police. Watkins could learn what he needed to know about the computer systems of GCB&T, tap into it with all the proper codes and then electronically transfer as much money as he wanted to a numbered, but nameless account somewhere in the Caribbean. Then it was just a matter of disappearing and spending his money. Yes, thirty thousand to make millions, maybe even a billion.

And the irony, as far as he was concerned, was that he would be fucking the beautiful Vicki, while she thought she was meeting the man of her dreams. A nice, rich, respectable man she could take home to her parents, or so she thought.

Then he had a horrible thought. What if she was a dog? He hadn’t really met her. He’d seen pictures of her, pictures with her kids, in her house, with her parents, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. She was truly a knockout, and only thirty. He had sent her his picture. He had nothing to hide, he told her, but what if she was a dog? How old were the pictures? They appeared to be recent. Clothes were fashionable, cars were the right year, but what if she was fat now, a fat pig?

Well, the love tools would still work, especially mister tongue. He could always close his eyes and fantasize about the Vicki in the pictures. In fact, in some ways it would be better if she wasn’t quite as beautiful as she was in the pictures. That would give him another advantage still. It would make her feel guilty for lying about her appearance when he didn’t lie about his.

He was quite rugged and good looking in that Pierce Brosnan sort of way. Women went for him. He never had any trouble finding a woman to fuck. Fuck’em and then discard them, was his motto. Fuck ‘em with the love tools, suck ‘em dry of whatever he could and then discard them. They were all bitches anyway, especially that one in Seattle. No, she wasn’t a bitch, she was a cu...

No, he would not call her that, even though she was. His mother hated that word. His father called his mother that one time, just one time, when he was drunk and angry, and she filed for divorce the next day. She won and took him for all he had. So, he learned a valuable lesson. There are a lot of women that deserve to be called that name, just don’t. Fuck ‘em, sock ‘em dry and discard ‘em like his mother did to his father, just don’t call ‘em that.

Chapter Two

The Pittsburgh Queen arrived at its dock in Pittsburgh on the North Shore. The dock was by PNC Park, where the Pirates played. The season was over for the Buco’s. Once again, a promising season ended in disaster and there was no post season play for the Pirates.

The Pittsburgh Queen was so tall that it couldn’t get under the Sixteenth Street Bridge. The last bridge it could get under was the Fort Duquense Bridge, and in order to do that, it had to fold down its smokestacks. The Pittsburgh Queen had a nice dock with several bars right there. For half of its passengers, this would be a terminus point, for the others, it would be a three-day party stop. It was Friday, and the Queen would not be leaving Pittsburgh until Monday. So, all those passengers not ending their cruise would have three days to party.

The Steelers were at home on Sunday, and that was another selling point of this cruise. Louisville Cruise Lines had managed to get fifty tickets to every football game in any stop they made. In Pennsylvania, tickets could not be sold for more than ten percent over the face value of the ticket, but when it became part of the whole package, then Mister Hudson found he could sell the tickets for double or triple by just increasing the price of the package they came with. The fact that the Steelers were the reigning Super Bowl Champs didn’t hurt either. All fifty cruise packages with Steeler tickets were gone on the first day they were offered.

People boarding in Pittsburgh could board anytime. Meals in Pittsburgh and New Orleans were not included in the package, nor was dinner in the other overnight stops. Vicki told Watkins she would board on Friday when the boat docked. She told him to leave the adjoining door unlocked. She would go to her cabin, get comfortable and then surprise him.

He figured he could probably fuck her at least once that night. He would have her gushing and climbing the walls. She would be his before they even left port on Sunday. He would have what he needed before they docked in New Orleans. Then a couple of nights there, and he’d probably have the money transferred out of GCB&T before she even got home and realized what he had done.

He heard the door open next door. The anticipation was making him hard. It was all he could do not to barge in on her. If she was even half as pretty and sexy as her pictures, especially the one of her in high heels, nylons and an almost see through teddy... He closed his eyes and tried to picture what she would look like in the flesh.

He had looked at her picture so many times. Her long red hair, bluish green eyes, pouting lips, big tits, and long slender legs. God, but she was pretty, and the pictures were so explicit. Maybe, just maybe, after I’ve transferred the money from GCB&T I could talk her into joining me on our own island somewhere. She could give the kids to her ex, and then it would be her, me and what used to be the bank’s millions, maybe even billions. I could do a lot worse, he thought.

She had been in her cabin about half an hour. How long did it take her to get ready he wondered? Can’t come off as needy, he knew. She had to come to him, he couldn’t go to her. If he went to her because he couldn’t wait, that would give her the upper hand. Wouldn’t want her to suck him dry after she fucked him. He almost laughed at that thought. That would be an ironic turn of events. No, he could wait.

The door began to open. He was almost nude, just a pair of boxers, like she had said. She would be comfortable, and so would he. Yes, in just a few seconds he would see if she was as beautiful as her pictures.

She entered the room. She was wearing those high heels, nylons, and almost see through teddy, and carrying two unopened bottles. One was Jack Daniels, his favorite alcohol, and the other Bacardi 151. He hated rum. She was even more beautiful than the woman he had seen in the pictures. But what wasn’t good was that is wasn’t Vicki Anderson. Leah, he said in shock.

Hello, Davie, she said, her voice cold as ice. Then Watkins realized that in addition to never meeting Vicki, he had never talked to her on the phone either. Nice cabin. I see your comfortable. I’m so glad.

Leah, what...what are you doing...doing here? And how did she find me? he wondered.

I’ve come to give you your share of the take from Seattle. Problem is the system didn’t crash and neither did the security systems. And with a stare as cold as ice she said, it was a setup, Davie. Someone tipped off the police and they were waiting for us. Tommy was killed, Davie. Killed right before my eyes.

It…..it wasn’t…..wasn’t me, Leah. I... I didn’t do it, he stammered.

Well Davie, who did then? It wasn’t Tommy, now was it? It wasn’t me or Harry. That only left you and James. So, if it wasn’t you, then who was it?

James, it had to be James, Leah. I bet it was James.

Maybe, Davie, but if it was James, why didn’t the system crash like you said they would? That was your job, Davie. You had one job, get the computer and the security to crash, and it didn’t. You had one job, Davie, not only did you fail at that, the cops were waiting as well.

Someone changed the passwords, Leah. I had no control over that, he told her.

"Convenient, wasn’t it, Davie, that they changed the password that day and had cops waiting. Do you know how long I planned that job, Davie? Do you have any idea of the months of planning and the money I spent to pull off that job?"

You, Leah? Tommy said it was Jensen that did all that. That Jensen was the brains.

Jensen was the brains, Davie, but what Tommy failed to tell you, what you didn’t need to know is that I’m Leah Jensen! I planned that caper, and you fucked it up.

No, Leah, it wasn’t me…...it wasn’t me... It was James, Leah, James, not me. It was James.

She pulled something from behind her back. It looked like a gun.

What…...what’s that? he asked afraid.

This, she pointed it at him. This is nothing, just a little something to make you sleep, Davie. You can sleep and dream of Vicki Anderson, the computer programmer at GCB&T you had planned to fuck and then use so you could transfer the money to your account. You didn’t call your old friends to tell us about Vicki, did you?

But…...but, I…... I…... didn’t know how to get a hold of you?

Bullshit, Davie, Tommy’s number still worked. You could have called. You always were so transparent, Davie. You think you’re fucking God’s gift to women. You think you can fucking fuck them and they will give you whatever you want. Well, Davie, as far as I’m concerned, you are a worthless piece of horse shit that never learned which head to think with.

I’ll scream, Leah, and people will come running.

"That’s just like you, Davie, a wimp. A wimp that screams instead of fighting like a man, but that’s your problem, you’re just a man. Go ahead, Davie, scream. Let them come in here, and what will they see; you naked and me in this outfit. You screaming because you are in the throngs of passion as a beautiful, sexy woman sucks your dick. That’s what they’ll see, not a fucking snitch and a brilliant criminal mastermind. People see what I want them to see, Davie.

I loved Tommy, and he’s dead because of you. He was shot in front of me. Did you really think I’d let you get away with that, Davie?

It wasn’t me, Leah, he said, crying, in tears now. It wasn’t me, it was James. It was James.

You can’t even die like a man, Davie. I shed tears for Tommy, for you I have nothing but contempt.

She tossed him the first bottle of Jack Daniels. He noticed she was wearing rubber gloves. Open the bottle and drink it, she ordered. After all, nothing but the best for you, Davie.

And if I don’t? he asked.

Then I’ll just stick a fucking funnel in your mouth and pour it down your throat. I don’t fucking care how it gets into your stomach, and your bloodstream, as long as it gets in there. Now drink!

She was holding the gun on him. She could shoot him before he could get to her. He was sure she would. Maybe he could do something. If she got close enough, he could hit her with the bottle.

He drank the whole bottle. She stared at him with hatred and ice in her eyes. When he finished, she told him to just drop it on the floor. Then she tossed him the rum and told him to open that and drink it also.

He was scared to death, terrified of this woman. She had no compassion in her eyes, only coldness, hatred, and death.

When he got about a quarter of the way through it, she shot him, one time in the arm. He looked at her, he wasn’t dead. She shot him, but he wasn’t dead or even bleeding.

Did you really think I was going to put a bullet in you, Davie? No, bullets leave bullet holes. They find bullet holes in bodies, even in bodies that burn to death. Did you know that under the right circumstances, curare will produce an effect called anesthesia awareness in which the person is awake and can feel pain, but can’t talk or move?

Burn to death? He couldn’t move. He could see her and hear her. He was fully conscious but he could do nothing. She came over to him and took something out of his arm. It was what she shot him with. He couldn’t move or speak. She took the rest of the rum and poured it all over the bed. She removed his boxers and tossed them on the floor. Then she got another bottle. This one was Everclear. It was a hundred and ninety proof, ninety-five percent pure alcohol. She poured the contents all over him and the bed. Then she went into her room and came back with an electric vibrator. The kind you plug in. She held it up to his face.

Just what some pig like you might use, Davie, on the women. It’s a shame that this one has a short in it.

she stood there and started to yell and pant. Oh Davie, oh Davie, oh my god, oh my god, I’m coming, I’m coming. Oh god, don’t stop, don’t stop. She continued a few minutes longer. Then said, Davie, sweetie, I need some things at the store, you know, one of those special stores and maybe a like more to drink. I’ll be back, Davie dear. You just wait here for iss Vicki. I’ll be back before you know it.

She smiled at him, but, there was no warmth in the smile, only coldness and death. She plugged the vibrator in, put it in his hand, laid the frayed cord across the bed and turned it on.

She made sure his cabin door was locked and then went to her cabin. She took another bottle of Everclear, opened it took a drink and swished it around in her mouth and spit it out. Then she did it again, poured part of the bottle on herself and her dress she had changed into. Then she tossed the rest of the bottle from her cabin to his cabin, making sure it spilled all over both rooms. She took her purse and left, locking her cabin in the process. She made sure her dress was askew, and her bra was off. She left that and her thong in his room.

Once out in the hall, she quickly stripped off the rubber gloves and put them in her purse, and started to stagger down the deck. She figured she had ten maybe fifteen minutes. She saw a steward in the hallway and staggered up to him.

I’m with Davie, she slurred her words. She was in his face. She reeked of alcohol. I’m gada get booze and sa toys. Da man’s a reel sex chine, she said. "I tink he may a passed out. I hope not. I hope he’s ready ta ged it ua…...ua…...up n go gen when I turn. I be back soon.

Don’t dis…...dis…...disterb him. La…...la......la hem sleep sa he cin ga..ga...gad it ua..ua... up gen. In the process of her speech, her boob actually popped out of her dress. She almost didn’t notice it, but did and put it back in. Sarrie," she said and smiled at him. Then she staggered away and off the ship.

The steward just shook his head. Fucking drunk, he thought. Those two are going to be a fucking problem. Fourteen days of that. But hey, I did get to see that one boob and her nipple. She has some nice boobs and great legs. Looks like she has no panties on. Maybe I can see her snatch when she comes back. She wouldn’t be sober that’s for sure, and if she trips and I see her snatch, this time instead of her boob, well…... Hell, maybe if she stays drunk long enough on this cruise, I bet I could fuck her. I bet she wants it. I could tell by the way she smiled at me when her boob came out of her dress and she knew I was looking at it. She’d be a great piece of ass if I can just get past the smell of alcohol.

He watched her head to the parking lot. Oh hell, she’s not going to drive is she? She’s too drunk to drive. If she gets in a car, I’m going to have to call the police. I can’t let her drive in that condition, even if it means I don’t get to fuck her. To his relief, she turned around and got in the first taxi in line.

Leah slurred her words for the taxi driver also. She said she didn’t know the city, but needed some more booze, could he take her to a bar? Maybe one in downtown.

The cab driver looked at her. You’re not going to throw up in the cab are you?

Na, she said. I kin hald it.

When he turned to ask her that, he noticed her cleavage, and like everyone else thought, she had nice boobs. He drove her across the Sixth Street Bridge, the Clemente Bridge and took her to the first bar he could find. He wanted her out of his cab before she threw up and he had to clean up the mess. It was Friday, and he didn’t want to spend an hour cleaning up some drunk’s puke when it was busy.

The meter said six seventy-five. She gave him seven dollars and said, I dan’t ned cange, and staggered out of his cab toward the bar.

Fucking drunk, can’t even give me a fucking tip, he thought.

After the cab drove away, Leah smiled. Her car was in the parking garage across the street. She walked over to it, got in and drove home in such a manner so as not to call attention to herself.

Stupid fucking men, she thought. Their nothing but pigs. Show them a little cleavage or even some nipple and no one looks at your face. They see what you want them to see. Then her eyes began to tear up. That one’s for you Tommy.

Chapter Three

After forty years as a Pittsburgh firefighter, Frank Torn decided to retire as Fire Chief. That left a void, which his friend, Steve Hanssen filled. When Hanssen was promoted to Fire Chief, Don O’Neal was promoted to Deputy.

Torn told Hanssen he never got over the City telling him he had to close five fire stations, they told him they needed more cuts. The budget couldn’t afford the fire department payroll. That was the last straw for him.

Hanssen agreed to take over. He didn’t know if he could do the job or not. He had the ability to lead the department, but he just didn’t know if he could do what was required of him as an administrator, a go between with the Union and City Government.

He had no idea how he was going to cut the payroll. There were new recruits in the Academy to cut down on firefighter overtime. Just getting the department back to its minimum staffing would help, but not help enough. There were no more fire investigators in the department. They were now all Fire Marshals in the Allegheny County Police Department under the command of Chief Fire Marshal Ray Figg. Most of the fire inspectors were gone as well, so he could make no cuts in those areas. Then he recognized the problem, there were too many captains.

As it stood now, there was a captain on every engine and a lieutenant on every truck. There were twenty-seven engines and eleven trucks. His first thought was to put only one captain on every rig, meaning each rig would have a captain and three lieutenants. That would be thirty-nine captains, instead of one hundred and eight that now existed. But that created a problem also. In some cases, there might be no captain at a fire, and at other fires there could be two or three. He needed a different solution.

It was O’Neal that provided it. One of the things that other people in the department disliked about O’Neal was that he didn’t follow tradition. If something worked, that was fine, but if there was a better, nontraditional way to do things, then he did it. Hanssen could just imagine what it would be like now since O’Neal would be making his nontraditional ideas the direction of an entire shift.

But O’Neal was a good Chief and a good firefighter. He was young, smart and someone that could make the changes necessary in the fire department. That was why Hanssen went to him for a solution. His solution was so obvious, but since it wasn’t tradition, Hanssen never thought of it.

Every structure fire has at least three engines and one truck responding, so put the captains on the trucks and then there would be one at each fire. Plus, that would be forty-four captains instead of thirty-nine. The plan sounded good to Hanssen. The City and the Union approved. It wasn’t perfect to anyone, but it was the best compromise for everyone.

This was only the fourth shift since Lieutenant Linda Pavak/Mathews/Kertchbaum had returned from maternity leave. When she discovered she was pregnant, about a year ago, she was the Lieutenant at Fourteen Truck. Now a year later, and with Hanssen’s changes, she was the lieutenant on Thirty-two Engine.

This was the first time in her eight- year career in the Pittsburgh Bureau of Fire that she was not quartered with a Battalion Chief. She was a probie at Number Four where Hanssen was quartered as the Deputy Chief on her shift, and Don O’Neal was quartered as her Battalion Chief, BC Six.

After she was promoted to lieutenant, she went to Fourteen Truck, where BC Two was quartered. That had been Rick Smith, her captain at Number Four. Now she was at Thirty-two where there was no Chief, but there was a captain. It was Captain Dave Phillips, on Thirty-two Truck. Dave Phillips had been the firefighter in the jump seat at Four with her when she was a probie. She believed she was the firefighter she was today because of Rick Smith and Dave Phillips. Rick Smith was still BC Two, but not on this shift, but Don O’Neal was now the Deputy for this shift.

Linda was married to Peter Kertchbaum. No one would have believed that eight years ago. Then he hated Linda because she was a woman doing a man’s job, but at the Harrison House, so many years ago, she saved Kertch’s life and he changed his attitude to Linda and women in general.

Kertch was not her first husband, but her second. Her first was Tim Mathews. He was killed in a fire by Robert Johnson about four years ago. The memory of Robert Johnson and what he did to Tim, and her, as well as what he tried to do to others she cared about still haunted her.

After the Harrison House, she may have changed Kertch’s mind as well as other firefighters about her abilities and women firefighters, but she unknowingly created an enemy. Now instead of Kertch hating her because she was a woman doing a man’s job, it was Assistant Police Chief Robert Johnson.

Johnson killed Tim to play with her mind and bring her close to him. It worked. Johnson had just lost his wife and he said he could understand what she was going