Because We Can!
(a Donovan Creed Novel – Volume 11)
By
John Locke
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
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BECAUSE WE CAN!
Copyright © 2013 John Locke. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the author or publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
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Visit the author’s website:
http://www.donovancreed.com
Published by: Telemachus Press, LLC
http://www.telemachuspress.com
ISBN: 978-1-939927-52-1 (eBook)
ISBN: 978-1-939927-53-8 (Paperback)
Version 2013.07.10
For Erin Roche-Wise and John E. Roche.
Entertaining you has been an honor and a privilege.
Because We Can!
Table of Contents
PART ONE: How Maybe Taylor Got Involved
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
PART TWO: Callie and Creed
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
PART THREE: Getting to Yes
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
PART FOUR: The Swarm
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9
One Year Later…
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
PART ONE: How Maybe Taylor Got Involved
1.
Jake and Lemon.
“WHAT? BULLSHIT!”
“I swear to God.”
“You fucked Lemon Fister?”
“Jesus, Brody. Keep your voice down.”
“Fine. I’ll whisper it. You seriously mean to sit there and tell me that you, Jake Stallone, fucked Lemon Fister.”
“That’s right.”
“Our Lemon Fister?”
“You know any others?
They’re at Harry’s Nickel, trendy bar, corner booth. A young waitress with frosted hair approaches. “Hi guys, I’m Alice.”
“Wow!” Brody says. “Just so you know, I’m available.”
Jake says, “That’s something she doesn’t hear often enough.”
Alice smiles, bends at the waist, props her elbows on the table so they can check out her implants.
Jake knows a practiced move when he sees one. “Who taught you tip-whoring, your mom?”
“Jesus, Jake!” Brody says. “I’m sorry, Alice. My friend’s a jerk. I’m Brody, by the way.”
She winks at him. “All part of the job. So, you guys ready to order?”
They do, and Brody watches her ass as she snakes through the crowd. Then turns to Jake and says, “That was rude, even for you.”
“Yeah, it was. I hate prick-teasers.”
“She’s not like that.”
“Oh, really?” Jake laughs. “If she so much as remembers your name, I’ll apologize.”
“You’re on! So. Where were we?”
“Lemon Fister.”
“Right. Swear it. On your life.”
“I swear on my life.”
“You lying motherfucker!”
Jake smiles. “It’s true. My crowning achievement.”
“It’s insane! How the fuck did—wait. Does Faith know?”
“Of course not.”
Brody shakes his head. “You son of a bitch! Okay, so who else knows?”
“No one.”
“What? I can’t be trusted with this information!”
“Sorry, dude. You’re my best friend. If I can’t trust you, who can I trust?”
“I need details. How long has this been going on?”
“Six months.”
“Six months? And you’re just now telling me? Why now?”
“I couldn’t hold it in any longer.”
“What, this bombshell revelation? Or your dick?”
“Both.”
“She’s—wait. How old is she?”
“Thirty-two. Today.”
Brody sighs. “I am so fucking jealous. I hate you. You know that, right?”
“Your envy’s a huge part of the fun. Why else would I tell you?”
“Because you’re an asshole?”
Jake smiles.
Brody thinks a minute. Then says, “Lemon’s birthday dinner.”
“What about it?”
“Are you kidding? I can’t wait to see the two of you in the same room!”
“I may not go.”
“What? You have to go! We’re all going.”
“I might show up late.”
“Jake. Look at me. It’s a surprise party. You need to get there before Lemon shows up.”
Alice arrives with the drinks.
Brody grins. “I love you, Alice.”
She grins back. “I love you, too, Benny.”
Jake laughs.
Brody’s face falls. “It’s Brody.”
Alice says, “Aw, shit. I’m sorry.”
When she turns he doesn’t bother checking her ass. Instead, he looks at Jake and says, “You’re fucking Lemon.”
“I am.”
“You lucky bastard.”
“I know. She’s amazing.”
“Where’d you do it that first time?”
“At a hotel, during her lunch break.”
Brody closes his eyes, tries to conjure it in his mind.
He sighs. “You lucky bastard!”
“So you said.”
2.
Milo and Faith.
MILO NEVER KILLED anyone before.
Nor has he killed anything bigger than a bug in his entire life. As for guns, he’s done exactly ten minutes at a rifle range. Twenty years ago, as a teenager.
But for this job, experience won’t be a factor.
He tries the back door, finds it unlocked, enters the hall.
Milo’s been here a dozen times, knows the layout. If you’re facing the house, he’s at the far right. Master bedroom’s far left.
He studies the hallway photos. Faith with her parents. Jake with his arm around her. Faith in her wedding dress, Jake in his tux. The whole gang grinning like fools on the ski slope two years ago, three-quarters drunk.
Better days, those.
He moves quietly through the kitchen, then the den, then the foyer. Now, in the far hall, he sees the master bedroom door closed. He puts his ear to it, hears nothing. Slowly turns the handle, pushes the door open a crack. Waits.
Pushes it open some more.
Stands there, waiting for…
For what?
Milo knows where she is. He can hear her in the shower. What he’s thinking, he’d love to see Faith Stallone naked. He’s seen her in a bikini, of course. All the wives wear them on the beach trips. They’re all in great shape. Gracie and Wren are cosmetically enhanced, but the others have managed to maintain the gifts they were born with. Years of Pilates, yoga, and aerobics have rendered them fat-resistant. At thirty-eight, Faith has a few years on Lemon and Lexi, and though Lemon’s the clear stunner of the group, Faith is barely a half-step behind.
Especially her face.
Specifically, her mouth.
Milo appreciates Faith’s body as much as the next man, but what he loves most is her mouth. There’s something bewitching about it. He’s only seen one movie star with that mouth, and it’s a tough comparison, because of the age difference.
Juno Temple.
Look it up.
Not the smiley version, the pouty one.
Faith has Juno Temple’s mouth, and Milo’s had more than one fantasy about it.
But he’d rather see her naked.
And to do that, he has to enter the bedroom.
He pushes the door open, slips inside, closes it behind him. Master suite is set up bedroom first, then hallway, then master bath. Left side of hallway is Jake’s walk-in closet, right side is Faith’s.
From where he’s standing, Milo can see the entrance to the master bath, and the giant marble tub at the far end. He can see part of the vanities on either wall, but not the toilet on the left or shower on the right.
If Faith was taking a bath, he could see everything.
Of course, that would mean she could see him, too.
And he’d prefer she didn’t scream.
3.
MILO ROUNDS THE bed, opens the top drawer of the end unit, removes Jake’s .357.
His first surprise of the evening: the weight of the gun.
He nearly drops it!
He checks to see if it’s loaded.
It is.
He carries it to Faith’s closet, which he’s never seen till this moment.
His second surprise of the evening: the size of her closet. It’s huge!
She has four racks of clothes on the left wall. On the right are shelves for shoes, boots, and handbags, and a full-length mirror. There’s also a coat closet with louvered slats, and a dressing area in the center of the room.
He figures she’ll exit the shower, towel herself dry, enter the closet completely nude. If he hides in her coat closet, he’ll get the full monty.
He opens it, pushes some coats out of the way, steps inside, closes the louvered door, and waits.
Thirty seconds pass before she turns off the shower. Twenty more pass quietly while she does whatever she’s doing in the bathroom. Then…she enters the dressing area wrapped in an enormous towel that completely covers her body.
Who the hell makes towels that big? Milo wants to know, while silently cursing his bad luck. Still, there’s something intoxicating about being a voyeur.
Faith has a hand towel in one hand, cell phone in the other. She glances at herself in the mirror, then presses a button on her phone, and stands it on its side on the shoe shelf.
Surprise number three: she’s put the phone on speaker.
“Hello?” Jake says.
“Where are you?”
“Harry’s Nickel. Where are you?”
“Home. Just got out of the shower.”
She uses the hand towel to dry her hair.
Jake says, “You going someplace?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot.”
“Remind me.”
“Lemon’s birthday party? The big event?”
“Oh. Right. I thought you said I could skip it.”
“The whole gang’s going.”
“Guys too? I distinctly remember hearing you say—”
“I did say that. Before I learned the husbands were invited.”
They’re quiet a minute. Faith says, “It’s okay. I’ll make up an excuse.”
Jake says, “I’ll swing by later on. It’s at Veluzzi’s, right?”
“Right. She’ll like that. They all will.”
“And you?”
“Of course. But Jake?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s a surprise party.”
“So?”
“Lemon will be there at seven. If you can’t be early, come after seven-fifteen.”
“I won’t get there before eight.”
“Of course you won’t. Want me to order for you?”
“Nah. I’ll get something here.”
“At Harry’s?”
“It’s happy hour. I’ll grab a snack, go home, take a shower. Probably show up at Veluzzi’s around eight-thirty. I’ll drink while you guys finish your dinner.”
“Sounds like you already started drinking.”
“You know me. One bourbon. That’s my limit.”
“One at a time, you mean.”
He laughs. “See you later, gator.”
“Be safe.”
She hangs up, tosses the hand towel on the floor, and—
—Milo nearly gasps as she—
—unwraps the giant towel, stands in the center of the dressing area completely nude, hands on hips, staring at herself in the full-length mirror.
She’s…amazing!
Faith turns, Milo gets full-frontal.
Surprise number four: bush. Close-trimmed, but full. You don’t see that very often. At least not on the porn sites he frequents.
She turns back to the mirror, cups her breasts, lifts them, frowns. There’s no reason for the frown. He’d peg her a 34-C. And firmer than he expected.
As she moves around, he tries to get a better view through the louvered slats….
And bumps the door with the gun.
Faith looks up, eyes wide with shock.
Milo pushes the door open.
Faith gasps. Her eyes go from Milo’s face to the gun. She screams, then charges him, catching him off guard.
“You son of a bitch!” she yells.
She slaps him once, twice, three times, full force. Then grabs the towel and wraps it around herself. “What the fuck are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to come till after I leave!”
“I wanted to get here early. Make sure I was ready. I didn’t know you’d still be here.”
“You fucking pervert!”
“Look,” he says. “Lighten up. I’m killing your husband for you, aren’t I?”
“Are you? Because from here it looks like you’re a degenerate peeping Tom.”
“I was concentrating on getting the gun. When I realized you were in the shower I was afraid I’d scare you.”
“Oh really? You didn’t see the bedroom door was shut? Didn’t hear the water running before you came in the bedroom?”
“You’ve got a gorgeous body. I’m sorry I peeked. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Like what, spied on a woman?”
“Killed a man. I’m not thinking straight. It’s harder than you think.”
She stares him down. Then says. “Forget it. It’s a shitty thing to do to me, but I can’t forget you’re doing me a major favor. Let’s move forward. And Milo?”
“Yes?”
“Try to forget what you saw, okay? Because you’re never going to see it again.”
“Okay.”
“Now get out of here while I get dressed.”
4.
“YOU LOOK INCREDIBLE,” Milo says, when she enters the bedroom.
“Try not to look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’ve seen me naked. It gives me the creeps.”
“I’m really sorry about that.”
“I’ll get over it. I hope. Eventually. If you stop staring at me like you’ve got some sort of secret knowledge. People pick up on that shit.”
“I’ll be cool.”
She studies him a moment. “You don’t look so good. You sure you’re up for this?”
“I’ll get it done.”
“Let’s hope so.”
“You’re positive he’ll come home before going to the party?”
“One thing about Jake: he’s a creature of habit.”
“What time do you think he’ll get here?”
“Six-thirty, seven at the latest. He’ll come in the kitchen, eat some chips and dip. Then he’ll come back here, use the bathroom, take a shower. He’ll take his time. You heard him on the phone. He intends to show up late for Lemon’s party. You know Jake: he’ll want to make the grand entrance.”
“Too cool to be on time?”
“Exactly. Speaking of which, you’re still planning to come, right? After shooting him?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Anything else I need to know?”
“Make sure your cell phone’s on. Make several calls to different friends while driving to the restaurant. But especially call Jake.”
“Why?”
“It’ll establish what time you left the house, and prove you went to the party before Jake left Harry’s Bar.”
“Harry’s Nickel.”
“Whatever.”
“How will it prove that?”
“When the police investigate the shooting you’ll be the prime suspect. They’ll check your cell phone records, see who you called, and chart your course by the cell towers that picked up your signals.”
“You sound like a cop.”
Milo shrugs.