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From: "Wine Maker" <wine_maker@eknifeshop.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Finding Elvis Chapter 04 (MF, MFF, Slow, Romantic Thriller)
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Date: Mon, 30 Jan 2006 04:10:01 -0500
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A Hawk Romantic Thriller. A romantic thriller that starts slowly, but
the passion builds as the plot unfolds. Homicide detective Lieutenant
Shauna Hawkins is in Vegas with her friends Ted and Lisa and has to
find out just who got married last night. As a lesbian, that might be
awkward. A series of dead bodies makes it a lot more serious. This has
a real plot and three dimensional characters. It's more than just a
wanker.

Read this story on several sites and vote on each for me. Voting for my
stories encourages me to write more. Remember to vote for each chapter
on Literotica and on the last chapter on Storiesonline.

http://storiesonline.net/auth/Wine_Maker

http://english.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=560253&page=submissions


Chapter Four: The tangled knot
(c) 2006 by Wine Maker


The airline tickets were not cheap, but we were able to fly out that
evening. Since I hadn't unpacked after leaving the hotel, I was ready
to go, and Gretchen kept a bag packed at all times.

Our flight took off late, as expected, and I dozed fitfully in the
first class seats that Gretchen insisted we have. She insisted on
paying, too, claiming it was a reimbursable expense. It just might have
been for all I knew. I decided to take her word for it. In any case, it
beat the hell out of flying coach with someone else's fat ass flowing
into my space.

I woke up as we began our descent toward Boston. I yawned and
stretched, not as stiff as after the flight to Vegas had made me last
week. Gretchen had either stayed awake or woke up before me. I glanced
at what she was reading. A golf magazine.

"Golf? You've got to be kidding me," I said with a shake of my head. "I
don't get that sport. Why bother?  What's the attraction?"

She put the magazine back into the rack and focused her attention on
me, her smile too bright for how tired I felt. "Golf is a good sport.
No violence, lots of skill required, and luck plays a big role. That,
and anyone can work hard and make it. Look at Dave MacDonald from
Canada. He came out of nowhere to challenge Tiger Woods."

I raised an eyebrow. "So? It's still a sissy sport. Give me hockey
any... Wait a minute," I said with a frown. "There was some kid in
Canada named MacDonald that was being talked about in hockey a few
years back. I think he was a Dave. Is it the same kid?"

Gretchen shrugged. "Maybe. I'll see if I can find out sometime. If it
is, would that make golf more interesting to you?"

"Probably not," I admitted. "I just can't imagine golf players to be a
very exciting lot."

"I hear his wife is pretty nice. Maybe golfer's wives would be more fun
for you to meet," Gretchen said mischievously.

I laughed. "They're probably as boring as their husbands." And I'm much
more interested in someone else, right now, I added silently. "Let's
worry about that if we have to storm a golf course."

"Fine," she said with a laugh.

The plane touched down and taxied to the terminal. When they let us
stand up, we gathered our carry-ons and went out into the airport.

Gretchen insisted on staying in one of the attached hotels. I weighed
Motel 6 against the comfortable rooms they would have here, and agreed.
I wondered if Ted, Lisa and Gretchen were making me soft or just plain
corrupting me, but not so much that I voiced an objection.

With my thoughts thus distracted, I hadn't paid close enough attention
to Gretchen as she was reserving the room, I decided once the guy
showed us in. It had a single large bed and was exactly what I'd had in
mind to avoid when I had vowed to keep my lust under wraps.

"Whoa! Hold up, Sport." I fixed Gretchen with a glare. "I don't
remember a single bed being mentioned."

She smiled at the bellboy, and then looked at me with a smile that sent
shivers down my spine. "But Hawk, I didn't think that would be a
problem. We're both girls." She fluttered her eyelashes at me. "Surely
we can sleep one night together without... disturbing one another." She
handed the bellboy a bill, practically shoved him out the door and
locked it behind him. She then turned around to smile at me with that
air of angelic innocence that soaked my panties and set off all kinds
of alarms inside me.

"You set this up," I accused her. "Dammit, I'm already having a hard
time resisting your wiles, and _now_ we're sleeping together?"

Gretchen crossed her heart. "I promised not to push, but give a girl
her pleasure. If I can't sample the goods, at least let me tease and
tempt them a little."

Gretchen looked at the clock and it was almost eleven p.m. already. "I
want to take the whirlpool for a quick spin to relax before bed. Join
me?" She didn't wait for me to dither. She started slowly taking her
clothes off in a way that made me drool. God was punishing me for
something. I wasn't sure what, but it had to be bad. My eyes clung to
her body as she slowly revealed it to me, her eyes never leaving my
face. On the other hand, maybe God was rewarding me. Or both rewarding
_and_ punishing me.

I wanted to get up and grab her right there, and I knew that's exactly
what she wanted me to do. That bit of knowledge gave me strength, and I
decided I would show her that I could dish it out, as well as take it.
With a smile, I stood up slowly and started unbuttoning my blouse...
button by button. Gretchen stood naked before me, watching with
interest. When I had removed my top, I slid my jeans down and stood
there in my underwear.

"Shall I get in the whirlpool like this?" I asked her. "Or do you want
me naked? All you have to do is ask, and off come the clothes."

Gretchen laughed. "You aren't teasing me. Take it off, Baby!"

I unhitched my bra and dropped it beside the bed. Then I turned around
and pulled my panties to the floor, giving her a framed view of my
pussy. I expected some sign of appreciation, but not a wolf whistle.
When she cut loose with that ear splitting whistle, I stood up and
laughed. Turning slowly, I came to within a few inches of her, paused,
and then headed into the bathroom. She was very good, but I could see
the lust in her eyes, restrained by her will. I had her; now to not
give in tonight.

Gretchen walked past me and started drawing water into the whirlpool
bath. She sat on the edge as it began filling, looking me up and down
like a woman eyeing various desserts on a dessert cart. I suddenly was
worried that I might have gone too far, and she might just make her
move.

"Down, kitty. No milk for you tonight," I said mock sternly.

Gretchen held up her hands and grinned. "I see you have nipple rings. I
considered getting some once, but decided against it. Do they hurt?"

"Only when they were first done," I replied dryly, causing her to laugh
"After that, they are really _nice_ during sex."

She looked at my breasts appreciatively. Then she turned the
conversation to bath items and the sexual tension started bleeding out
of the air. None too soon, I thought.

When the tub was filled, she slid in, and I joined her. The added
element of slipperiness threatened my resolve. Her feet seemed to
accidentally brush against my legs, but I was sure that it was
intentional. I found my hand caressing my mound and had to force it
away before I slipped all the way down the slope. Admittedly the hot
water made my muscles relax. After twenty minutes, I stood up and
started using the shower hose to rinse off.

"I'm beat and we have work to do in the morning," I said.

"You go to bed and I'll be along in a few minutes. I want to soak just
a little bit longer."

I nodded and stepped onto the bathmat to dry off. Wrapping the towel
around me, I went back into the bedroom and considered whether or not
to wear anything to bed. Dropping the towel on the floor, I slid
between the sheets, deciding to sleep in the nude. If she made a move,
I'd be in trouble, whether I had something on or not.

Rubbing my hands along my body, I decided to take a few minutes for a
quick orgasm to take the edge off. I rubbed two fingers along the
length of my slit and closed my eyes. The vision of her standing in
front of the tub swam into my thoughts, and I brought my other hand to
my nipples. Twisting and pinching them, I sighed. The ramp up to orgasm
came slowly at first, and then like a freight train. I clamped my mouth
shut to strangle the groans as I arched my back and came. After a few
moments of exquisite pleasure, I collapsed back onto the mattress.

When I opened my eyes, Gretchen was standing in the doorway to the
bathroom, her towel on the floor at her feet, watching me with eyes
that smoldered. I jumped a bit at the surprise, and she smiled. Smiled
like a hunter, lazy and arrogant in her supremacy. "I think that we
won't make it back to Vegas before you give in to your desire, Hawk. Do
you want me now? You can have me."

It was harder this time. Much harder, but I shook my head. "No sex for
you tonight. Into bed, little slave girl. I flipped her covers down and
scooted over to my side.

Gretchen swayed over and sat on her side of the bed, staring at me with
an interested look. "Slave girl, eh? Should I start calling you
mistress? Wear a collar in public? Let you discipline me?"

My eyes widened fast. This had just taken a turn to the kinky.
"Ahhh..." Then I started thinking about what she said and I flushed.
Leather I was into, but kinky sex games? "I, um, have no idea."

"If I was a bad girl, would you handcuff me and make me service you,
mistress?" she asked in a sultry voice that shot a bolt of arousal
through me. "Or sometimes I've found that those in positions of
authority like to be dominated. Should I order you around in the
bedroom? Make you serve _me_ in private? Or should we take turns being
in charge?"

I shook my head. "I've never tried any of that, and I don't know if I'd
like it. Let's just table this, okay? I'm asking you not to push.
Please."

With a throaty laugh, she turned out the light and slid under the
covers. "I can wait, good looking. By the way, I enjoyed the show and
can't wait to see you do that little dance under my hands."

I shivered and poked her in the side. "Play nice!" All that did was
make her laugh harder.

Gretchen finally let me be and snuggled into her pillow. She was softly
snoring in less than five minutes. It took me much longer to go to
sleep with her on my mind, but I managed it somehow.

-----

When I woke up the next morning, I was briefly disoriented. It took a
full minute for me to remember where I was. A glance beside me told me
that Gretchen was gone. She was an early riser.

I stumbled into the bathroom to take care of the morning rituals, and
she wasn't there either. A quick shower and I dressed up in layers. It
had been cold yesterday when we flew into Boston, and I'd bet it would
be cold today. I might need to see about getting a coat. Vegas hadn't
prepared me for this.

As I was tying my shoes, the front door opened, and Gretchen came in,
dressed in that same ratty tee shirt and sweats from yesterday morning,
but this time covered in sweat.

"Morning!" she said. "I've been working out. I missed my aerobics
yesterday so I hit the gym. Be back in a bit. Order something for
breakfast!" She dodged into the bathroom and I heard the shower kick
on.

By the time she was done cleaning up, I had room service on the table.
We chatted about Boston as we ate and I started noticing a pattern. She
was much more sexually aggressive at night than in the morning. There
were no attacks on my virtue over breakfast. I filed that away for
later use.

Throwing her napkin down on the table, she looked over at me with an
evil twinkle in her eye. "I'd like to stop somewhere and do something
that'll set Brunhilda off like a bottle rocket."

I narrowed my eyes. "That sounds ominous, and it's bound to be harmful
to any possible reconciliation. Spill it."

Gretchen rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll just give it to Daddy as a
practical joke and then tear it up, if you insist." She leaned forward
and grinned. "I want to stop by the county clerk's office and get a
marriage license."

I raised an eyebrow. "Going to just pick some guy off the street and
convince him to sign on the dotted line? That will take some powerful
persuasion, even for you, Doll."

"Nope," she said getting to her feet. "This is Massachusetts. I'm
planning to have you sign on the dotted line."

I knew that Massachusetts had legalized gay marriage, but this
surprised the hell out of me.

"Me?" I squeaked. "We've only just met!"

She held out her hand, palm out. "It's just a license. It doesn't mean
anything if we don't get it signed by a minister or justice of the
peace and get it filed. It's not getting married. Your story yesterday
put the germ of this in my head and I just _have_ to see _someone's_
eyes bug out."

I held her in my suspicious gaze as I stood up. "You're a practical
joker, aren't you? I know your type, always doing something to set
other people off balance. I should have figured. If we do it, will you
sit down with me and talk about your Dad and his relationship with
you?"

Gretchen scowled. "He doesn't have one with her in the picture."

"Bullshit. You two could have a relationship that doesn't include her,
but it would take both of you agreeing to have time away from her and
leaving her _out_ of the picture while you're together."

I forestalled her objection with my hand. "Just let it stew. You agree
to think about it, I'll agree to help you play your joke. But no saying
"I do." I'm not willing to go that far in helping the prankster out."

She perked up. "Deal. Where to after that? Finding your missing Elvis?"

"Yes, but first I think I need a coat. Let's find one on the way to
get your silly license."

-----

I tried to convince Gretchen that I didn't need an expensive coat, but
that turned into a whole 'nother discussion when I found out she wasn't
recommending an _expensive_ one. The issue seemed to be that we had
differing definitions of inexpensive. I wanted to get something for
less than a hundred bucks someplace like Wal-Mart. She wanted something
more in the four to five hundred dollar range. I stuck to my guns and
we soon had a perfectly serviceable coat for me.

The next stop was the county clerk's office. Never having gotten a
marriage license, I wasn't sure how many hoops would have to be jumped
through or if we needed blood tests and stuff. It turned out that the
process was simple to the point of being ludicrous. Fill out a simple
application, pay the nominal fee and walk out with a license that was
valid after a three day "cooling off" period. Gretchen folded it and
stuffed it into her coat pocket.

"Now, we have to find your dude. Lay on, MacDuff," she said with a
grin. We waved down a cab driven by a nice Jamaican guy named Devon and
headed for the address I had for our Elvis. Forty minutes later we
pulled up to a small two story house just like all the other houses on
the block. They sure did build small up here. I could barely imagine
two people living in them, much less a family. I handed the cabbie his
fare and a nice tip. "Keep the motor running and we'll be back out in a
bit."

"Follow my lead," I told Gretchen as we stepped out onto the narrow
sidewalk. "They might be resistive."

She nodded and we walked up to the front door. I knocked and put on my
cop face. With a creak, the door opened and an older man looked out at
me suspiciously. "We already have some."

He started to close the door, but I held up my hand. "We're not selling
anything. Paul Lebowski? I'm Detective Hawkins and this is my
associate. We're looking for your son-in-law, Leo Giovanni."

Mister Lebowski stopped closing the door and snorted. "Why am I not
surprised? I've told Marge she was an idiot for marrying someone like
him, not enough forks in their family tree, if you know what I mean,
but she ignored me. Like she always does. Comes from her mother's side
of the family."

"Is he here, sir? May we speak to him?" I asked.

The old man sighed. "I wish he was. I'd like to see you grill the
bastard, but he and Marge got all worked up last night when my wife
told Marge that some old friend had called for her. Scooted right out
the door like Satan himself was right behind 'em. Left most of their
stuff, though. Figures. They're probably staying with some friends,
cause they ain't got hardly no money till they get work. Even when they
do, he pisses it away gambling." Belatedly, he frowned. "Can I see your
badge?"

I nodded and pulled it out, displaying it for him. He pursed his lips.
"Houston? You're a long way from home, Detective. What did Jackass do
in Houston? I can't say as I've heard he was ever there."

I quirked a smile. "Actually, it's about one of the marriages he might
have performed in Vegas. I just need to get some clarification."

"That seems a little odd to be a police matter."

"It involves some friends of mine," I said, glancing with a twinkle in
my eye at Gretchen, "and my partner and I have firm ideas about getting
married. Where is he, sir?"

The man shrugged. "I'll bet he's holed up some place with one of his
old pals. He's from the _less savory_ side of town, so I don't know,
and frankly, don't really want to know."

"Does he have family here, other than you?" Gretchen asked.

"Sure. His momma lives over there, too, poor woman. I pity her for
having had to raise a snake like him."

"Can you give me her address, Mister Lebowski? The sooner we can find
him and clear this up, the better for all of us," I said.

"Let me go get the address," he said and closed the door.

I looked at Gretchen. "You think they ran to his mother's? That seems
too simple to me."

She shook her head. "No, but if they're short on cash, he'll turn up
there sooner or later. Besides, a stake-out sounds like fun."

I laughed at her. "That is so untrue. A more boring time you couldn't
imagine. It might be days before we get a nibble. Still, it is the best
lead we have. If we don't contact her, they might come to her after
they get less spooked." I nodded thoughtfully. "You know, that's a good
idea. We can spend the time talking about you and your father," I
paused, "and about each other."

Her smile soured a little. "Let's talk about division of time. I'd
rather talk more about you and less about Daddy. We do it in dribbles,
okay?"

"Deal."

The door opened and Mister Lebowski handed me a torn sheet of paper
with an address written on it. "There you go. Would you please give the
bastard the rubber hose treatment?  Maybe at least threaten it?"

I smiled at the old man. I was right, he was likable. "Count on it. If
they call, don't tell them we were here, and we'll have a better chance
of giving him what you want."

He grinned and nodded. "You bet. Good luck." He closed the door and we
headed back out to the cab. "We'll need a car of some kind. Preferably
something that will fit into the area and not raise eyebrows. Let's
take a drive by the address and see what kind of rental might work."

Gretchen nodded and we slid back into the cab. "Okay Devon, take us by
this address and slow down, but don't stop when we get there. I need to
get the lay of the land.

He grinned back at me, his dark face split by a brilliant white smile.
"I thought you tell your friend to keep her hands to herself, Miz
Hawkins. Surely one of you two fine ladies be de lay you be talkin'
'bout."

I fixed him with a scowl, but Gretchen's laughter took all the
sternness out of it. "Do all you cabbies spy on private conversations?
Hmmm? You just never mind about us and drive, Romeo."

"Yes, ma'am, Miz Hawkins!" he sassed me, not intimidated in the
slightest.

"You just want to watch us make out in the back of your cab, you
pervert," I grumped back at him.

"Wantin' to watch two fine women make out be no perversion! It be
natural for a red-blooded mon! You two feel free to make out all you
like, and pay no mind to Devon."

Gretchen giggled. "You'd wreck the cab trying to watch us, so you'll
just have to wait till you drop us off, and then that can be your tip."

My eyes slewed around to her and I opened my mouth to protest, but she
cut me off.

"Now, Hawk, Sweetie, I've been a good girl and not molested you, so you
be good and help me tip Devon for all his dedicated driving," she
ordered with a superior smile. One small step after another, she was
getting me closer to what she wanted. Like taking a wild horse and
getting it to let you pet it, one small gesture at a time, wearing down
resistance and making it more comfortable until you're finally close
enough to touch it. These last few days, she had subtly been coming
closer and closer, circling gently but steadily closer. I had to turn
the tables on this fast, or she would have me right where she wanted me
before I made my move!

I smiled. "You're absolutely right, Gretchen. He's been great and
deserves it after we get done. On the other hand, after that step-up in
our relationship, I think we need to agree to be hands off until the
stakeout's done."

She blinked back at me in surprise. "Why?"

"A stakeout requires attention, and we need to be focused on catching
up with Leo. If we're necking," I said glancing up at Devon in the
mirror, "or more, he might slip right by us." Devon just grinned and
kept driving, listening.

Gretchen pouted, but nodded. "Okay, if I simply must, but I'll be
thinking about it."

-----

If anything, the neighborhood where Leo's mother lived was even worse
than I expected from talking to his father-in-law. The cars were so low
end, I didn't know if any rental place would have a car that wouldn't
stand out. The house in question was part of a tenement row and was
indistinguishable out from its neighbors. The street in front of it had
a bunch of younger kids playing ball with a broom handle and what
looked like a tennis ball. The next block up, some gang bangers eyed
the cab going by with interest, the kind of interest that told me a
stop would get me an offer of drugs. Some kind of place to grow up,
with the dreary layer of poverty settling on everyone like smog.

"Devon, you know of a rent-a-wreck place? Some place that rents cars,
and that might have an old one that would fit in here?" I asked as we
pulled out of the area.

"Sure, Devon help you find a good car to fit in, Miz Hawkins. I know
just de mon and I get you de best deal."

Gretchen looked out the window as we drove, abnormally quiet. I finally
had to put my hand on her leg to bring her attention back inside.
"What's the matter," I asked quietly. Her eyes seemed a bit teary.

"I bitch about my problems, but they live in places like that. I'm such
a hypocrite. I'm a little rich girl, whining about her Daddy and his
wife, while they live with gangs, drugs and poverty. I really am out of
touch with the world." She wiped her eyes with a tissue from her purse.
"I grew up in the lap of luxury, all my needs taken care of before I
even felt them."

I nodded. "So you did. We don't get to pick our families and our
childhood. You aren't defined by that, but rather by what you do. You
don't like something? Try to fix it. Try to help someone. We might be
the sum of our past, but the future is in our hands only if we reach
out and take control."

Lisa called while we were halfway to our destination. She and Ted were
settled in, but Hans had their time scheduled out pretty tightly. I
decided not to let her know we were in Boston with them, since I knew
that she would want to help. She and Ted had enough on their plate for
the moment, so I'd just take the yelling when she found out. The call
lasted fifteen minutes, and she sounded pretty happy, all in all. After
the call I felt pretty good, but I missed her badly. The last few weeks
had bonded the us so much that I was only starting to realize how much
a part of my life they had become. And I felt more than a little guilty
at how rapidly I was becoming attached to Gretchen. Logically, I knew
that it was a good thing from Lisa's perspective, but it was still
emotional.

Gretchen was silent and thoughtful all the way to the used car lot.
Devon pulled in and talked to a man that might have been his brother,
dreadlocks and all. A little arm waving and both of them looking us
over while they talked seemed to settle it. Devon waved us out.

"Dis be my cousin, Dio. He has some old cars dat he can rent you dat
will fit right in, don't you Mon?"

Dio nodded. "And I be happy to help you ladies. Come on into my office,
and we talk."

I smiled at Devon and made my move. "You've been a big help, Devon. Let
me get your tip." Without waiting, I struck, wrapping my arms around
Gretchen and pulling the surprised woman into a powerful kiss. She
melted into my embrace and wrapped her arms around me, our coats making
noise as they rubbed together. I kissed her aggressively, almost
possessively, my tongue prying her lips apart to taste her and invade
her. She didn't object. Far from it, she kissed me back with a passion
that surprised me. I needed to make my last move and leave her wanting.
I was tired of her having the upper hand in these games.

My lips left hers and I kissed down the angle of her jaw and onto her
neck. The goose bumps told me that she was very sensitive there and I
used my advantage ruthlessly, kissing, licking and biting her slender
throat gently. Her body began to twitch and she moaned softly in
pleasure, her fingers entwining in my hair. Perfect.

I broke off my attack and she groaned, trying to pull my mouth back to
her skin. I grinned at her. "Nope, that's all until the stakeout's
done."

Her pupils were wide with desire, but she let me go. "Oh, you _can_
fight back, I see. The tables are turned on the hunter, but I haven't
given up the chase yet, Dear. I'm going to have you and it _will_ be on
my terms!"

The sound of one of the men clearing their throat startled both of us.
We'd been so focused on each other that we'd forgotten where we were
for a moment. Gretchen laughed. "We've got it bad. You satisfied with
the tip, Devon?"

"Hell yes!" he exclaimed with a grin matched by his cousin's. "I drive
you where you like and you can tip Devon like dat anytime!"

She slapped him on the ass. "Go on, get back out in your cab and make
some more money." She opened her purse and tipped him a Franklin
anyway. He started to decline, but she shook her head. "That really was
my pleasure so it can't be your tip. We'll call if we need any more
driving around."

He pocketed the bill and handed her a card. "You call me direct if you
need Devon and he be dere." When he drove off, we made our way inside
with his still grinning cousin. In fifteen minutes, Gretchen had left a
deposit that was probably worth more than the heap itself.

The only thing holding the beat up Oldsmobile together was rust and
Bondo. The interior looked like it had been used as a cage for a
pit-bull and the smell seemed to confirm that theory. Dio started the
car up and I thought it had exploded from the loud 'bang' and the huge
cloud of oily smoke that belched from the tailpipe. I'd have been
tempted to say it was running rough, but that would've been too
generous. I think it was missing on at least one cylinder and it acted
like it would seize up.

"Dere you go, ladies! Dis car be de right one to fit in to dat
neighborhood," Dio said as he climbed out and left the door open for
me. "If she die, you just call Dio and he come get you."

"You're a real champ, Dio. Thanks." I slid behind the wheel and let it
warm up.

Gretchen slid in the other side and wrinkled her nose at the amazing
smells coming from under the seat. Or was that from the seat itself?
"You're safe from me making any moves on you in this thing, Hawk. I'd
be afraid to take my clothes off. I might catch something. Speaking of
clothes, I think I'll burn mine when we're done with this, um, car.
People really drive pieces of crap like this?"

I grinned and nodded. "Hell, this is better than the first undercover
car I had. It smells better, too."

She shuddered. "Ugh!"

I looked at the dash and decided the car was as warm as it was going to
get. When I put it in gear, I thought the transmission had fallen off
or the driveshaft had blown a U-joint, but apparently that was just its
way of finding first gear. We lurched off the lot and out into the
street.

When we arrived in the neighborhood and had parked, I started worrying
that this was too low rent to really fit in, but decided I was just
being critical. I parked up the street where we had a good view of the
house. Gretchen rolled the window down, despite the cold.

"Maybe the stink will freeze out of the air," she said optimistically.

"Dream on," I said. "If that doesn't work on something like a dead
body, how could it work on something this much worse?"

"Shit," she said disgustedly. "I guess you're right. How long do you
think it will be till he shows up? Tonight?" she asked hopefully.

"I doubt it. More likely tomorrow or the next day. Good thing we have a
lot of talking to do."

She sighed and accepted it. "At least we're being paid well for it,
though after considering this car, I think he's getting off cheap."

She did get her way about that stupid prank, though. She pulled it out
and dithered about letting it touch the dashboard before signing it on
her knee. I rolled my eyes, shook my head and signed the paper. I eyed
the form dubiously. At least no one would be signing the officiator and
witness spots, so it wasn't any more than just a prank.

We talked late into the night, until it was clear Leo wouldn't be
along. Gretchen was very disappointed to have another day in the car
from hell. We drove back to the hotel and the doorman offered to have
it towed to a salvage yard for us. I had to park it myself _and_ pay
him extra to make sure it didn't get towed.

After the day we'd had, even Gretchen wasn't feeling too much like
teasing. We scrubbed clean and put the clothes in three trash bags, one
over the next. Gretchen mumbled her hope to wrap it up the next day and
fell into sleep. I actually followed her swiftly into dreamland.

-----

My estimate on the time required was low, but at least we got some
serious talking done. I don't know if I helped with her and her
father's problem, but I knew more about her than I knew about any
friend I'd ever had. And that is what she was, I realized by the second
day. A friend. I shared things with her that I had only shared with my
former lover, Sharon, and then with Lisa.

We were sitting in the car on Friday morning when a car that made ours
look like a limo bounced up on the curb by the mother's house. The
doors opened and a man and woman climbed out. The mutton chop sideburns
made me sit forward.

"Whoops! Here's our boy and the missus, unless I miss my guess.
Showtime!" I crowed.

Gretchen looked at me, her eyes eager. "Do we go and confront them
now?"

With a shake of my head, I dashed her hopes. "No, we wait for them to
come out and then we follow them back to their lair. Then we corner
them. I'd rather not have a protective mother interrupting us."

Very reluctantly, she agreed. Very reluctantly indeed.

Leo and his bride were inside about half an hour before they came back
out, looking a bit sullen. At least he looked sullen. His wife just
looked tired. When they started driving away, I knew we were in good
shape to follow them unseen. There was no way they could see us through
the cloud of smoke his car was puffing out.

To my surprise, he headed downtown and into the county annex parking
area. As they parked and both got out of their car, I made a left and
parked in a no parking zone. "Let's go."

She looked at the zone as we climbed out. "We could get towed."

I nodded. "It could happen. At least we could take a cab, then." That
possibility cheered her up considerably, and we moved out at a brisk
pace, entering the building behind the couple by a minute or so. It
should be easy to spot him in that canary yellow windbreaker he was
wearing.

"We may have to split up to find them," I told Gretchen. "For god's
sake, whatever you do, keep that marriage license in your coat pocket;
it might get filed by mistake."

Gretchen laughed at me and unzipped her coat. "You're so funny! Unless
it's signed by a minister and witness it's not valid. Stop being so
worried, Hawk, it's just a joke. You're safe."

I unzipped my own jacket and turned to tell her it wasn't funny when I
saw Marge Giovanni coming out of one of the small offices behind us,
close to the entrance to the building. She was getting into the
elevator right across from us. With a nudge, we slid into the elevator
with her. There was no sign of Leo, but he might have gone upstairs
already. It didn't matter. If we followed Marge, she would lead us back
to her husband. I suppose she could answer our questions just as well,
but I'd rather ask them both before they knew we were after them.

She got out on the second floor and spent a few minutes looking at the
directory of offices on the floor. It made me even more nervous when I
remembered this was the same floor as the county clerk, but I dismissed
the feeling as unwarranted paranoia.

When her cell phone went off, she pulled it out and turned to move down
the hall briskly, faster than the flow of traffic, listening to
whatever her caller was telling her. I bulled ahead as she walked
around slower people. Her back was to us so she would be none the
wiser.

I had just passed the tax collector's office when she sped up to a
jog. I cursed and sped up. She couldn't be onto us, she hadn't even
looked back. There was a crash behind me and the squawk of a woman. A
glance back showed me that some guy in a black coat that was too big
for him and a watch cap had came out of the tax collector's office and
bowled Gretchen over. I almost stopped, but he was already helping her
to her feet with profuse apologies, dusting off her coat while she
sputtered and tried to get past him to catch up with me.

That made it easier for me to forge ahead and follow Marge into the
county clerk's office. She hung up her phone and stepped into line
behind half a dozen other folk. A quick check of the line showed no
Leo, so I stepped into line behind her. Gretchen came just after that
in a huff, muttering under her breath about inconsiderate men.

"You still have the license, right?" I asked, my paranoia showing. With
a roll of her eyes, she reached into her coat and we could both hear
the crinkle of paper. I sighed in relief.

She shook her pretty head and laughed at me. "You're so funny. Don't
worry! It's all safe with me."

In ten minutes the line was down to one person in front of Marge. She
pulled out her cell and dialed. "Honey, you need to hurry up. I'm
almost to the counter." Her voice was moderately pleasant. She hung up
after a moment and looked back at the door. Leo walked through it in
his ugly yellow windbreaker and jointed her as the next window came
open.

We pulled out of line, but stayed close enough to listen in on them.
We'd be able to corner them as soon as we were done. He reached inside
the windbreaker and pulled out three or four marriage licenses. I could
tell from my recent brush with one. I knew his wife was from here, so
he must have graduated from some school of divinity around here and was
probably licensed _before_ they moved to Vegas.

He grinned at his wife and slid one over to her. "You forgot to sign
this one. It's not valid without all the signatures and it would be a
cruel prank to play on those poor young people to let that slip by."

She grinned back at him and signed it. Then she slid all of them to the
clerk. He stamped them and signed off on them.

"I'll want a certified copy of that last one. I need to make sure they
have it as soon as possible. You won't believe how excited they'll be
when I give it to them. Right, Baby?" His wife nodded and the clerk
could care less.

He was paying the clerk and she whispered in his ear and headed back
toward the exit. Gretchen started to follow her and I shook my head.
"Let her go. He's the important one. We don't need to split up now.

Gretchen nodded and let her go. It seemed like Leo couldn't count as it
took an inordinately long time for him to pay the man. Finally done, he
headed for the exit, slipping the copy he requested back into his
jacket.

I stepped in front of him and blocked his exit.

"Leo Giovanni, I'm Detective Hawkins. I'd like to have a word with you
about an incident in Vegas."

He looked surprised, but I didn't get the rabbit-eyed,
searching-for-escape look that I expected. "Sure, I'd be happy to talk
with you, but I have to hit the can right now or there's going to be an
accident. I can't wait another second." He bounced from foot to foot
and I wavered.

I remembered there were bars over the windows outside and slowly
nodded. "Okay, but please make it quick. I'd like to get this taken
care off as fast as I can."

With a smile that seemed a bit more than grateful, he stepped into the
men's room right across the hall. I leaned against the wall on one side
and Gretchen leaned against the other. "This is almost over," I said
with a smile. "In a few minutes I'll have the real story of that night.
It feels good. How did you like your first bit of police work?"

Gretchen raised her eyebrows. "Except for the car, it was great. With
the car involved, it goes down to barely tolerable."

I laughed at her and leaned back, waiting. When it hit five minutes, I
was starting to get worried. He should have been out by now and he
hadn't snuck by us. I stopped the next guy to head for the restroom.

"Excuse me, our friend Leo is still inside and it's been a bit. Would
you ask him how long he's going to be?" I asked.

The man nodded and went in. The door had barely closed when he opened
it back up. "Nobody in here. Maybe he went out the other door."

With a cry of outrage, I pushed past the surprised man and through the
second door into the men's room. Bigger than shit, there was a door on
the other side of the restroom. A quick look around showed no one else
there, though a suspiciously familiar black coat and watch cap were on
one of the sinks, with an envelope on top of the neatly folded pile.

 "Gretchen, look through that stuff and meet me at the car!" I ran
through the other door. Another fucking hall! Shit! I hauled ass back
down to the stairs and got outside in time to see them accelerating
away from the curb, with Marge in the driver's seat. Leo waved cheerily
at me as I judged if I could catch that piece of crap on foot. No way.

I ran for our car and heard Gretchen calling from behind me. I could
listen when I was starting the car, so I kept going. That plan was
squashed when I got around the corner and saw the car was already
hitched to a tow truck and was being lifted.

It was hopeless, but I knew I had to try. I got in his face and
sputtered, "Jeeze, put the damned thing back down. I'm a cop."

He chewed his tobacco and spit on the car. "So?" The spit was probably
an improvement for the car.

I showed him my badge. "I'm not bullshitting you. I'm really a cop, so
drop the car back down."

He reached around and scratched his ass. "Hell, I believed you the
first time. Still not gonna drop the car. You can pick it up at the
county lot. Or save the money. It looks like it's worth less than the
fees."

Gretchen huffed around the corner and leaned against the back of the
car. "Dammit Hawk, I said stop. This is important!" Then she noticed
the tow truck and shook her head. "Figures."

"This dick is towing us," I snarled, "and that asshole, Leo, is getting
away!"

Gretchen stepped over to the tow driver. "If I pay you two hundred
dollars will you drop the car and head on out?"

He looked at her and shook his head. "She called me a dick. That costs
you an extra fifty." I ground my teeth, but held my temper as she paid
him off. He stuffed the money into the back pocket of his coveralls and
started dropping the car. Gretchen leaned her head against the wall
while we waited. She looked... I'm not sure what she looked like, but
she looked very unsettled, still breathing heavily. She should have
caught her breath by now. I was about to put a hand on her shoulder
when the rattle of chains drew my attention back to the tow truck. Our
car, such as it was, was free.

I walked around and climbed in the driver's door. Gretchen opened her
door as the tow truck drove off, taking a deep breath and getting in.
"We won't catch them now, it's been too long. I'm not sure what just
happened, but something tipped him off. I've never been ditched so
professionally. The thing I don't understand is why he even let us
catch up to him, if he knew we were following him."

"I know why," she said, looking over at me. The look in her eyes scared
me. Anxious, upset, embarrassed and angry. Those emotions and more. I
was filled with dread.

"Why?" I asked already knowing I wasn't going to like the answer.

"To make sure to get something filed. I'm just not sure how he knew.
It's all my fault." She covered her face with her hands.

"What?" My eyes widened. "No," I said in a choked whisper as it dawned
on me. "It's not possible."

She looked back up and pulled an envelope from her purse. "This was on
the pile of clothes in the men's room." She handed it over to me.

A scream of... Well, I don't know what of, ripped from my throat as I
yanked the contents of the envelope out and stared at it. A certified
copy of that damned marriage license signed by Leo Giovanni and
witnessed by Marge Giovanni. All notarized and filed. Legal. There was
also a note.

_Go back and tell your boss he'll get his money when I'm damned good
and ready. And a piece of advice for free. Don't tail someone smarter
than you and then tell a licensed minister how to screw with you while
he's in the office right behind you listening. One of you likes
practical jokes? Now the joke's on you. Go home and have that honeymoon
you've always wanted. Elvis._

I stared back at Gretchen in shock. She laughed without humor. "Well, I
never thought I'd be a virgin when I got married, but life's funny that
way. Which of us carries the other over the threshold?" She pulled a
folded piece of paper from her coat. A blank piece of paper folded up.
"He switched it and I never suspected."

"Oh, my god!" I felt nauseous. "That bastard married us! We're married!"

-- 
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