I’m still not sure this story truly qualifies as noir. But, readers’ comments suggest that the first chapter was generally well received. Thank you.
This story is a work of fiction. Some real institutions are mentioned, but they are used fictitiously. Insofar as the author knows, no real person affiliated with any of those institutions has ever behaved as do the characters in this story. Any similarities between any character in this story and any real person are coincidental and unintended. I encourage comments on this story, both favorable and unfavorable. Thank you for reading this.
*****
Ali and I had to wait in the lobby of the Tampa Police building until Beth came out and told the uniformed officer to let us in. Visitor passes hanging from our necks, we rode an elevator up two floors to Beth’s office. There we laid out the whole story for her.
“Just so I’m clear,” Beth asked after we’d finished, “the owners of Bougainvillea Cove hired Ian because they suspected drug dealing on premises. Ian needed a woman to accompany him because the resort doesn’t allow single males, so Ms. Nance volunteered. You both went to the resort, asked the barmaid if you could buy drugs, and she connected you with a Latino bodybuilder who offered to sell you drugs. You didn’t buy anything. Last night, you followed the four people you suspected to a house here in Tampa. You watched the house overnight. This morning, you saw a van arrive. After the van left, you saw the four people getting back into the car you had followed, and you took the pictures you showed me.”
“That’s correct,” I replied.
“I suppose you were both nude while you were at Bougainvillea Cove,” Beth said, more as a statement of fact than a question.
“Of course,” Ali replied, “it is a nude resort. We would look suspicious with clothes on. And, I don’t get enough opportunities to go nude to pass one up.”
Beth gave a tired smile. “Anyone want coffee?” she asked. When Ali and I both said yes, Beth said “Ian, why don’t you come with me and help me carry it back?” We left Ali in Beth’s office as I followed Beth down the hall to a small kitchenette. As she was pouring the coffee, Beth said, “Ian, you better be careful. I think Ms. Nance is infatuated with you.”
“That’s a problem?” I asked.
“Apparently not,” Beth replied. Pointing at a spot on my jeans, Beth added, “I see she was useful on the stakeout.”
I followed Beth back to her office carrying two cups of coffee. After Beth sat down at her desk and took a sip of coffee, she said, “Ms. Nance, I understand you intend to pursue a career in law enforcement. For your future reference, I want you to be aware that female officers do not generally give male officers hand jobs while they are on surveillance.”
Ali smiled sweetly at Beth. “Thank you. I’m sure that’s true,” Ali said, “but I doubt that you generally conduct surveillance with someone who has as nice a dick as Ian.”
“I’m not familiar with Ian’s penis,” Beth replied.
“And,” Ali added, “he finger-fucked me to an O.”
“Well, that makes a difference,” Beth said. “Ian, you know I’m not narcotics. I need to hand this off. I called Brian Fitzpatrick before I came to get you two downstairs. He’s waiting for us. Ian, you can trust Brian, but you will have to tell him the whole story.” I nodded. Beth dialed an internal number. When someone answered Beth said, “I talked to them. It looks solid to me.” She listened a moment, said “in five”, and hung up. To Ali and me, Beth said, “let’s go meet Lieutenant Fitzpatrick.
We met Fitzpatrick in a conference room one floor above Beth’s office. I guessed he was younger than me, but much closer to my age than to Ali’s. Ali and I ran through the story again and showed him the digital pictures on the camera.
“We need prints of these,” Fitzpatrick said. “Anything on the camera we shouldn’t see?” I shook my head. “I don’t suppose you got plate numbers for the car or the van, did you? Fitzpatrick asked. Ali rattled off the license plate numbers, makes, models, and colors of both vehicles and added that the van had a dent in front of the driver’s door. “Good work,” Fitzpatrick commented. “I’m going to have prints made of your pictures. I need you to dictate statements which we’ll turn into affidavits in support of a search warrant.”
Staff took statements from Ali and me. About a half hour later, we were signing affidavits about what we saw at the house and that the attached photos, which we took, fairly and accurately depicted what we saw when the four people had left the house that morning. Once our signatures were notarized, Fitzpatrick said, “I have to take these and the warrant application to the duty judge. They always love getting these on a holiday weekend. Sit tight.”
Ali and I waited in the conference room for about an hour and a half. When Fitzpatrick returned, he said, “the warrant is signed. You think the four will be back at the resort tomorrow? It’s Sunday.”
“It’s Sunday of a holiday weekend,” Ali replied. “The resort is almost full, and it looked like they were doing good business. I doubt they would pass up the opportunity.”
“Fair enough,” Fitzpatrick said. He pushed a business card across the table. “I want you to do one more thing for me and then back off. Call me when the bad guys leave the resort tonight. We’ll have people around the house. We’ll probably wait until morning to execute the warrant in case they get another delivery. Did you see them with any weapons?”
“No,” Ali replied, “but that doesn’t mean . . . .”
“Doesn’t mean they don’t have any in that house,” Fitzpatrick finished for her. “We’ll be ready.”
It was close to 2:00 p.m. when Ali and I got back to The Cove. We’d been awake over 36 hours. I set the alarm in our room for 7:00 p.m. We undressed, fell into bed, and basically passed out.
I was groggy and tired when the alarm went off. As befit a younger person, Ali seemed back to normal on just a few hours of sleep. We had our third nude dinner together and, about 9:15 p.m., took up positions. I never did find out where Ali was when she watched the condo parking lot, but she called me at 10:05 p.m. to report that the red Chrysler was leaving the lot with all four people in it.
I was in the brush beside the entrance to The Cove. I watched the red Chrysler pass and carefully stepped out into the street to see the light at 41. Once I saw the Chrysler turn south on 41, I called Fitzpatrick.
Back in our room, it was clear that Ali wanted to play. Something less than five hours of sleep was not enough for me to recover from a day and half without sleep. I fell asleep in Ali’s arms.
Ali woke me around 9:00 on Labor Day morning. “Your phone just went off,” she said. I checked my missed calls and returned the most recent. Fitzpatrick answered.
“I should say thank you,” Fitzpatrick said. “The van showed up again and we went in. We got a man and two women in the house and two men from the van. There was a smorgasbord of drugs in the house and the van: coke, pills, meth. Not a massive quantity, but I’m guessing a couple hundred thou at street prices. I’m e-mailing you mug shots. Look at them and call me back if you can tell me anything about anyone.”
A couple of minutes later, Fitzpatrick’s e-mail hit my phone. Ali and I went through the pictures. “You know who’s missing, don’t you?” Ali asked. I did. Fitzpatrick had only gotten one of the two men who had been at The Cove.”
I called Fitzpatrick back. “You’re missing one of the clones,” I told him.
“Which one is his twin?” Fitzpatrick asked. I told him which of the mug shots showed a man we had seen at The Cove. “I thought you would pick him,” Fitzpatrick said. “Ricardo Olmos. He has a twin brother named Antonio. Ricky’s done time for possession for sale. The brother, Tony, is bad news. Just after he turned 18, he knifed his girlfriend. The girl survived so he got ten. He did eight and a half. He’s been out a little over three years. The address we have for Olmos is in Miami. I called a contact at Miami-Dade. He said there’s a whole family: two sisters and a mother. They’re on Miami-Dade’s radar as dealers but, with all the shit down there, weren’t big enough to be a priority. He said the Olmos clan went off their screen late last year. We don’t know where Tony went. Does he know you?”
“We talked to one of the brothers on Thursday,” I replied. “I can’t say which one.”
“You want to stay alert,” Fitzpatrick said. “Busts are part of the day’s work for these people, but Tony seems to have a temper.”
I had decided not to report to the Westerfelds until the cops moved. I called Paul and asked for a meeting. He invited us over immediately. “Don’t bother to dress,” he added.
I had not seen Paul or Lilith nude before Ali and I had coffee with them that morning. Both were fit and completely tan. I summarized what had happened. “How was all this shit going on under our noses and we didn’t know?” Paul asked.
“It seems the dealers did most of their business by the pool or at their condo,” Ali said. “How often are you around those places?”
“We never go to the condos unless there’s a problem,” Paul replied. “The tenants are responsible for cleaning and routine maintenance inside. We have someone who cuts the grass. We call people if a major repair is needed. I probably go through the pool area once or twice a day, but I’m not looking closely.”
“Same for me,” Lilith added.
“Who is responsible for monitoring the pool area?” Ali asked.
“I’m not sure I’d call it ‘monitoring,'” Paul replied, “but we expect the person working the pool bar to tell us if anything is going on. That is the only staff member at the pool continuously.”
“Is that bartender usually the blonde we met, Kim?” Ali asked. Paul nodded.
“Don’t do anything yet,” I said, “but we have some reason to think Kim might be involved.”
It was about 11:00 as Ali and I walked back through the pool area towards our room. Kim had the pool bar open. We stopped and ordered beers. That day, Kim was wearing a bight yellow thong. As she walked back down the bar bringing our beers, I saw that the thong was basically transparent, and the Kim shaved her mound. Kim caught me looking. “Like it?” she asked.
“It looks lovely,” I said.
“Just cause the State says I can’t work nude doesn’t mean I can’t show off,” Kim replied brightly. She paused and then asked, “Did you guys get what you wanted from Tony the other day?”
“We decided not to buy anything,” Ali replied.
“Why not?” Kim asked. Her eyes narrowed some.
Ali wrapped her arm around mine. “This is our first trip together,” she said. “We didn’t want to take anything that might impair performance.”
“I get it,” Kim responded. “I was a little worried you might be cops.”
“We’re not cops,” I said truthfully.
“Yeah,” Kim replied. “I didn’t think cops would take their clothes off. Tony should be around today if you change your mind. I’m surprised he’s not here already.” Kim went off to serve another couple.
Ali and I finished our beers. “Do we tell Fitzpatrick about Kim?” Ali asked softly.
“That brings Cove employees into it,” I replied. “Let’s think about that.”
“While you’re thinking, there is something I want to inspect in detail,” Ali said. “Let’s go back to the room.”
“What do you want to inspect?” I asked.
“You,” Ali answered.
Back in the room, Ali had me lie on the bed on my back. She lay down on her front at a right angle to me. She took my dick in her hand and looked at it from every angle. Still holding me, she crawled over my thigh to between my legs. She lifted my dick up with her hand and began looking at my balls. After a bit, Ali sat up and said. “roll over.” I did and felt Ali spreading my ass cheeks. She ran a finger over my asshole a few times. Then, I felt her pushing through my sphincter. She pushed her finger up to my prostate and began rubbing. After a bit of that, she asked,” hard?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“I need to wash my hands,” Ali said. “Don’t go anywhere.”
I lay on my belly while I heard her run the sink in the bathroom. When Ali came back out, she said “roll over.” I rolled back onto my back. My dick was lying on my belly pointing up to my face. “I like that,” Ali said. She lay back down on her front between my legs. She took one of my balls in her mouth and sucked. I’d never had anyone do that to me before. After, maybe, a minute, Ali let my ball out of her mouth. She lifted my dick until it was pointing towards the ceiling and began running her tongue up and down the underside of my shaft. That felt great. It felt even better when Ali raised up on her forearms and took my dickhead in her mouth.
Ali licked me and sucked, and then started lightly running her teeth over my dickhead. I didn’t know if she was experienced or just naturally talented, but she gave the best blowjob I’d ever had. I shot so hard it hurt a little.
Ali took all I shot and swallowed. She said, “You’re the first guy to come in my mouth. It tastes better than I expected.”
I sat up. “Ok,” I said, “it’s your turn. Get on your back.”
Ali giggled. “Why?” she asked.
“Turn about is fair play,” I replied.
I stood up. Ali got on her back in the center of the bed and spread her legs. I took a moment to just look. Ali was young, beautiful, and incredibly sexy. I got between her legs and started taking a close look at her pussy. After examining it externally, I used a couple of fingers and opened her up as wide as I could without, I hoped, inflicting pain. “Like what you see?” Ali asked.
“Very much,” I answered. I let my hands relax and pushed a finger into her. “I’m going to explore,” I said. “Tell me where you like it best.” I felt around inside Ali’s vagina for a bit before settling on a spot on her anterior wall. I rubbed and pressed against her pelvic bone.
“There! That’s best!” Ali said. It dawned on me that I could probably reach that spot with my tongue. I pulled my finger out and lowered my head until I could see her pubic hairs moving with my breath. I sucked on Ali’s clit for a moment before sliding my tongue inside her. I worked my tongue up her wall. “Just a bit higher,” Ali said. I pushed my tongue deeper in. “There!” she said.
I worked the spot Ali had designated with my tongue fast and furiously. I was gratified that she was soon bucking her hips against my face. She wrapped her thighs against my head and crossed her ankles over my back. She began making sounds like “ow . . .ow . . .ow.” Suddenly, she raised her hips up hard, pressing her mound into my nose. I had difficulty keeping my tongue where she wanted it. Ali said “uh . . . oh . . .ahhh” and then relaxed. I kept licking her until she gently pushed my head back with her hand.
I raised up on my forearms to look at Ali’s face. She was flushed but smiling. “That was special,” she said.
“Not as special as what you did for me,” I replied.
We showered together, slathered each other with sunscreen, grabbed towels and my waterproof bag, and went to the pool. It was crowded, but we found two lounge chairs together. Other than keeping an eye out in case Tony showed up, we had no work to do. Pulling out my phone, I saw that I had missed a text from Paul while Ali and I were giving each other oral. The text said, “Please stay until decide about K.”
I showed the message to Ali. “Let’s defer that decision until later. I’ve got class tomorrow. I want to enjoy today.” We sunned, swam, drank, and chatted with other guests. Our plan was to stay the night and leave early enough Tuesday morning to get Ali to her class. After Kim went off duty at 6:00 p.m., Ali and I went to our room, showered, and had what I expected would be our last nude dinner together. We went to the disco, but it was dead. We were back in the room before 9:00 p.m.
We packed our few things up and I set the alarm for 5:00 a.m. Ali hugged me and said, “today was a first.”
“What’s that?” I asked
“It is the first day I’ve ever gone nude from the time I got up until I went to bed,” Ali replied. “A whole day with no clothes on! That deserves some celebration!”
I had just slid my dick into Ali’s pussy when my phone started ringing. “Shit, you’d better answer that,” Ali said. I pulled out and answered my phone.
Paul Westerfeld said, “Ian, a Pasco Sheriff’s deputy just called. They found Kim Bowen in her car a few minutes ago about a mile from here. They traced her to us from her security card. The deputy said Kim’s dead and was pretty badly cut up.”
It took a moment. “Kim Bowen?” I asked.
“Kim, the bartender at the pool,” Paul responded.
“Shit,” I said.
“Yes,” Paul replied.
“This has to be connected to the bust yesterday,” I said. “I need to call my contact at Tampa PD.”
“Ian,” Paul said, “Lilith and I are scared. Can you stay at The Cove until this gets straightened out?”
“I have to get Ali to USF in the morning,” I replied.
“Ok,” Paul said, “will you stay here as much as you can? Same deal: free room, food, and drink.”
“Ok,” I told Paul and ended the call.
I told Ali what Paul had told me and what I had agreed to do. Ali’s first reaction mirrored mine: “Shit!” She though a moment and said, “I only have class Tuesday through Thursday this semester. I’ll be back Thursday evening. I’ll call to make sure you’re still here.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” I asked.
“Ian,” Ali said, “the case isn’t finished. Besides, how am I going to have more fun than running around naked with you? You may have to put up with me studying some, but I’ll make that up to you.”
I called Fitzpatrick. He was not happy to be called late on Labor Day night until I told him what had happened. “The barmaid introduced you to Olmos, right?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered.
“I’ll talk to Pasco,” he said. “If I had to bet, I’d bet they figured out you played a role in the bust and killed her for introducing you.”
“That’s my guess,” I agreed.
I took Ali to her apartment and then to her first class the next morning. I thought she was safe because, although an Olmos had seen her, I didn’t think they could ID her or know she went to USF. On my way back to The Cove, I visited a guy I knew who did electronics. The next morning, he was installing motion sensors and surveillance cameras along the outside perimeter of The Cove. For obvious reasons, cameras inside the resort were a no go. The motion sensors would go on around 9:00 each evening when activity on the adjoining street died down. They would alert in The Cove office and on my phone. I could use the cameras, which were always on, to see if there was a raccoon or something to worry about.
It was about 11:00 a.m. the Wednesday after Labor Day. Beth Potter called. “Ian, I hate to tell you this, but someone shot at your friend Allison Nance this morning,” she said.
“Is she ok?” I said with some rising panic. “Where is she?”
“Allison is fine although, I assume, shaken,” Beth said. “She wasn’t hit. It was a drive-by. Someone fired five shots from a car on the opposite side of the street. Two took out a store window. The other three hit a car going the same way Allison was walking. That driver is in surgery.”
“Where’s Allison?” I asked.
“It happened off campus, so it is our jurisdiction,” Beth said. “Allison is at the station nearest USF. You know where that is?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ve got to go.”
I ended the call with Beth and immediately dialed Ali’s cell phone. Thankfully, Ali answered immediately. “I just heard from Beth Potter,” I said. “Why didn’t you call me immediately?”
“Ian, I’m ok and the police have kept me a little busy,” Ali replied.
“Fair enough,” I said. “Sorry, I was scared and overreacted. Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.”
I threw on clothes and bolted to my car. The trip from The Cove to the Tampa PD station took an hour in traffic. While I was driving, I called Paul Westerfeld and explained the situation. “Ali has class tomorrow,” I said. “I’ll stay with her tonight and tomorrow and we’ll be up tomorrow evening. She has class Tuesdays through Thursdays. I’m going to be bodyguarding her until it’s safe. We’ll stay at The Cove as much as possible. When I’m not there, keep an eye on the electronics we put in.”
“I understand,” was all Paul said.
The police were done with Ali by the time I arrived at the station. Her apartment was only a short distance away, but I detoured Downtown to the old building that held my office. As Ali looked around my office, she said, “we can do better than this.” I was too absorbed to be insulted. I pulled the .45 I owned out of a file-drawer along with four loaded clips. I put that gun and the ammo in the briefcase I carried. I took out the .38 revolver I usually carried and got a full box of .38 ammo out of the drawer.
Handing the .38 and the box of bullets to Ali, I said, “I know you don’t have the paperwork to carry this, so don’t get caught. I’m going to stay with you as much as possible, but I want you to have the gun on you, loaded, at all times in case we’re separated.”
I think Ali wanted to say that she didn’t need it, that she would be fine. She stopped herself. Instead, she just said, “Thank you Ian.”
I spent the next 51 consecutive days with Allison Nance. I sat in her classes (and learned a couple of things). I met her friends. I even did her laundry. Fortunately, Tampa stays warm enough through October that we were comfortable going nude at The Cove. I thought the restricted access there made us a little safer. The better I got to know Ali, the more she impressed me. I’d estimate that we made love on forty of those 51 days. Sex with Allison Nance did not get stale or routine.
Interestingly, our role in the Olmos drug bust helped my business. I was getting calls for more work and from new clients. When nothing had happened again by the end of October, Ali and I agreed that I needed to spend more time on business and less as her personal bodyguard. Despite cooler weather, The Cove stayed open year-round. Ali and I stayed there as much as we could. While you occasionally wanted to wear a robe or something outdoors, the restaurant and disco stayed nude. We got to know quite a few of The Cove’s regulars, although they were mostly older than me.
I think it was February when Ali first brought up what she was going to do after graduation at the end of May. I assumed she’d go to a police department. Ali had a different idea: she would get her PI license and join me in a firm. I felt obligated to make the point that working for a police department was reliable income and came with benefits while being an independent PI offered none of that. However, I didn’t try too hard to dissuade her. Ali was, of course, extremely nice to have around. More important, she had computer and online skills that were beyond me. As more people and businesses became victims of online scams, official law enforcement could not keep up. Victims who could afford it were hiring PIs. Ali could move my practice into the 21st Century.
Nothing had happened since September. Although I was still living rent-free at The Cove, now in the condo unit Olmos had rented, I thought the threat had passed. I had no hesitation when Ali and I were invited to go boating with Pam Westerfeld and her boyfriend Mitch Gardiner on a warm weekday in April about six weeks before Ali’s and Pam’s graduation. Mitch took us out on his parents’ boat, docked at a marina on Tampa Bay.
We went up the coast to a small barrier island. On the way, Mitch told us, “on the weekends, this place gets so crowded you can’t find space to anchor. I’ll bet we get it all to ourselves today.” He was right. I helped him set out fore and aft anchors to hold the boat a bit out from the low tideline.
The four of us carried food and drinks onto the beach. We were all in swimsuits: Ali looking great in a bikini, Pam (whom I’ll describe in a moment) in a one-piece, and Mitch and me in trunks. “We’re the only ones here,” Pam said, “so, I don’t think we need these.” She wriggled out of her one piece and tossed it farther up the beach. Ali, Mitch, and I did likewise.
Pam Westerfeld was the same age as Ali. She had a cute face and short blonde hair. I had the impression she could look great, but she carried too many extra pounds in her hips, thighs, and waist to be truly physically attractive. Mitch didn’t seem to mind, and Pam was a good friend of Ali’s.
We ate, drank, swam, and sunned in the nude for hours. As it became later in the afternoon, and some alcohol had reduced inhibitions, all four of us began paying more attention to our partners’ bodies. Around 4:00 p.m., Ali and I took a walk around the island. It didn’t take long but, when we returned to the beach by the boat, Mitch was on top of Pam pumping away. “They have the right idea,” Ali said, “but I want to be on top.” Ali got me hard. I got her wet. I lay in the sand on my back and Ali lowered herself down on me.
Ali and I had shifted from fucking to making love months ago; during our first session, I think. That day was no different. While Mitch and Pam went at it rather frantically, Ali slowly rode me up and down. We kissed each other’s lips and nipples, stroked necks, sucked earlobes, and laughed more than once. We heard Pam and Mitch finish quite a while before we did. The extra time was worth it. I had, and I know Ali had, a tremendous orgasm. After we came, she stayed on top of me for a time while we kissed.
After Ali and I finally got up from the sand, Pam said, “Damn. You guys sure take your time.”
“Some things are just too good to rush,” Ali replied.
It was dusk, but you could still see clearly, when we tied the boat up in Mitch’s parents’ slip. From the dock, the land rose slightly to a parking lot. That turned out to be fortunate. We were just starting up the rise from the dock to the parking lot when a car came in fast. Instead of pulling in a stall, it stopped in the middle of the lot closest to us. Something smelled wrong.
The odor got stronger as I saw the car’s passenger window start down. Ali was just in front of me, to my right, closer to the car. I grabbed her waist and spun her, putting myself between her and the car. At the same time, I was pushing her to the ground, off the walkway, where we’d have some slight cover. I heard a shot and almost immediately felt pain and burning in my right ass cheek. I heard a second shot just as we hit the ground. I heard a woman scream and tires burning rubber. I tried to get up, but my right leg buckled when I put weight on it. Someone yelled “911’s been called.”
Ali got up, thankfully unhurt. “Are you ok Ian?” she asked.
The pain was intense. I gasped “back.”
“Roll over,” Ali said. With effort and even more pain, I did. “Shit Ian,” Ali said, “you’ve been shot in the ass. You’re bleeding everywhere.”
Police arrived followed quickly by an ambulance. That ambulance didn’t take me. The second shot I had heard hit a six-year-old boy playing at the water’s edge about a foot from his mother. He was in very bad shape.
As we waited for a second ambulance, I noticed Ali was bare-chested. “Where’s your top?” I croaked.
“Trying to keep you from bleeding out,” she answered. In truth, I was in more pain than danger. If you’re going to be shot, the ass is one of the better places in terms of survivability. The second set of EMTs cut my trunks off, put on a temporary dressing, and put me face down on a gurney. Ali’s top was sopped with blood. The EMTs bagged it, gave Ali a windbreaker from their unit, and let her ride with me to the ED.
It was a simple matter for the Docs to cut the bullet out of the muscles in my ass and turn it over to the police. They kept me overnight on fluids and painkillers. Ali stayed all night. She told me I spent the night on my belly with my bare and bandaged ass confronting everyone who walked in.
The first person I was aware of walking in the next morning, other than Ali, was Beth Potter. Unlike the drug case, Kim Bowen’s murder, or the attempt on Ali in September, this shooting was Beth’s case. I hurt was but now fully conscious. My feet were closest to the door. As Beth walked along my bed towards my head, she said, “I guess I shouldn’t say I’m seeing a new side of you Ian.”
“His ass usually looks better than this,” Ali interjected.
“I hate to tell you Ian,” Beth said, “but you’re the lesser important victim. You know they also shot a child?”
“Ali told me,” I said.
“The boy died overnight,” Beth said. That made me feel shittier. A young boy, someone’s son, was collateral damage because someone else tried to hurt Ali or me.
I told Beth everything I could remember. Ali filled in some gaps. After Beth finished her notes, she said, “Maybe we’ll get lucky. We have a good description of the car and a tag number.”
“Stolen,” I said. My instinct proved out. The car was reported stolen from the parking lot of an Estero shopping center the morning of the shooting. It was found five days later, wiped completely clean, in the parking lot at an Orlando theme park.
I was released from the hospital the afternoon after I was shot with a lot of painkillers and a piece of foam called a “donut.” The idea of the donut was to put it under my right ass cheek with the wound in the center cutout to keep me from sitting on the wound. Since my ability to walk was impaired, I was also given a wheelchair. I hoped I could pay for it all from crime victim’s compensation.
In about two weeks I could walk again, sort of. Until then, my wheelchair rolling alongside Ali was a common sight at USF. Getting in and out of cars was, literally, a pain in the ass. However, Ali and I stayed at The Cove as much as we could. We felt safer in the somewhat controlled environment. My injuries also made intercourse impossible for a time. We discovered there were countertops in Ali’s apartment and in the condo at The Cove which put Ali at the right height for me to eat her while sitting in my wheelchair. I can’t prove it, but I’ve always claimed that my injury didn’t cost Ali a single orgasm.
I was walking and sitting uncomfortably, rather than painfully, by the day of Ali’s graduation. She had a group of tickets which meant that I had to sit with her father, mother, brother, and sister-in-law. Characterizing my reception by the Nance family as “frosty” gives it way too much warmth. When the ceremony was over, I was standing by myself a few feet from Ali’s family. Ali made a point of coming to me and giving me a hug and a long kiss before she hugged the rest of her family. After that was done, Ali’s dad, Jim Nance, grabbed my arm and pulled me off to the side.
I’m not sure whether it was anger, loathing, or both that I saw in Jim Nance’s eyes as he spoke to me. “I can’t stand the thought that Ali is dating and having sex with someone almost as old as I am,” he told me. “This just isn’t right and, if you had any decency, you’d walk away from her now. I know you’re the kind of guy that preys on young women and you’re going to make her suffer. I wish there were more I could do about it.” Jim Nance paused. “Ali says you saved her life back in April, taking a bullet meant for her. I know better. That bullet was meant for you. Being around you will get her killed.” Jim Nance spat on the ground and walked away. I refrained from pointing out that someone had shot at Ali in September when I was miles away.
Ali came up to me just after her father finished ripping me. “What did Dad want?” she asked.
“You don’t want to know,” I answered.
Ali’s face fell for a moment, then brightened again. “You’re coming to lunch, right?” Ali’s family was taking her for a graduation lunch.
“I’d better not,” I said. “I don’t want to risk a scene that would ruin your day. I’ll see you tonight.” The Westerfelds were having a dinner for Pam at The Cove. She had invited several friends including Ali “and guest” which was understood to mean me.
Ali had her own security code for The Cove, so she drove her car up after her lunch. “I stayed sober just for you,” she told me. Her voice dropped a little. “It really pissed me off hearing Dad and Dan (her brother) tell me what a piece of shit you are. Neither of them knows you!” Ali rarely stayed down for long. She giggled. “I haven’t told them I’m going to work for you starting, when? Now?”
With her degree but no experience, Ali needed to intern for a year under (and often atop) a licensed PI, me, before she could get her full license. We had agreed that we would start a firm as 50-50 partners. Technically, we couldn’t do that for the year Ali was an “intern,” but we did it informally anyway. We hadn’t agreed on any formal “start date.” I guessed we were partners now. That thought salvaged a depressing day.
The Westerfelds had a table in The Cove’s restaurant set for twelve. In addition to the Westerfelds, Mitch, Ali, and me; Pam had invited two other couples and two single girls. Everyone was invited to swim in the late afternoon and then have dinner. Swimwear or less was acceptable. The Westerfelds, Mitch, Ali and I were nude from the get-go. One couple, Courtney and Ethan, stripped off as soon as they saw us. The other couple, Wendy and Alex, waited until we were seated and eating appetizers before excusing themselves and returning to the table nude, holding their clothes. The two single girls, Diane and Keira, stayed in their bikinis through dinner despite an excessive amount of ribbing, especially from Pam. They took their tops off during after dinner drinks but put them back on and left early.
I expected Paul and Lilith to disappear after dinner. I thought it was a little rude that Pam and Mitch also vanished. That left Ali and me as de facto hosts for Courtney, Ethan, Wendy, and Alex, none of whom had ever been to a clothing optional resort before. The six of us sat in a hot tub for a time. After we toweled off, Ali and I took our guests to the disco. I guess seeing old people dancing naked was enough, or too much, for Wendy and Alex. Although the Westerfelds had offered all Pam’s guests free rooms for the weekend, Wendy and Alex suddenly remembered somewhere they had to be early the next morning.
I wasn’t sure about Ethan, but Courtney was enthusiastic about going nude. Having broken through the taboo against being nude around strangers, she wanted to experience as much as she could in the nude. We had a few drinks and danced a while longer. We even swapped partners for a slow dance. Courtney was nice and physically attractive, but Ethan got the better end of that swap. Not long after, Courtney wanted to walk the resort, so we did. There were not many people out at that hour. After a few minutes, Courtney turned to Ethan and said, “There’s no one out to see me. I’m ready for sex.” Courtney and Ethan went to their room.
As Courtney and Ethan walked off, Ali stepped up to me and put her arms around my neck. I put my arms around her back and pulled her close. “I think we’ve won at least one convert in Courtney,” Ali said.
“We won a convert?” I asked.
Ali hugged me tighter. “We’re nudists now,” she said. She was right. Although The Cove always seemed to have background noise, it was very quiet at that moment. Standing there nude with Ali, I had feelings I’d never experienced before. It took me a while to realize that what I felt was peace and contentment. Those were foreign emotions for me.
Ali and I looked at each other for a long time. I had the better end of that exchange. Finally, Ali kissed me on the lips and said, “I think we should follow Courtney’s and Ethan’s lead.”
We were awake and at the pool relatively early the next morning. As I fiddled around spreading our towels over lounge chairs, Ali said, “every time I see that scar on your ass, I think about the Olmos case.”
“Tony is still out there,” I replied.
“Didn’t Pasco find his prints in Kim Bowen’s car?” Ali asked.
“Yes,” I answered, “according to Beth, there’s a warrant out for him for murder but no one’s seen him. Everyone thinks that mom and the two sisters are involved in the drugs, probably the smart ones running it, but Brian hasn’t been able to tie them in. They’re living peacefully in a multi-million-dollar place on Captiva.”
“It must be nice,” Ali said. “”What still puzzles me,” she went on, “is why The Cove? Brian hasn’t found any indications the Olmos group was dealing anywhere else on the West Coast or still dealing in Miami. What drew them to this place?”
“I’ve wonder about that too,” I replied.
Just then, I heard Courtney behind me say “Goood morning!” I turned around as Courtney and Ethan walked up. Courtney looked better than I had remembered from the night before.
“Did you have a good night?” Ali asked.
Courtney put an arm around Ethan’s bare waist and said, “He did his job very well, thank you.” Ethan, who seemed more comfortable nude that morning, just smiled.
I pulled two more empty lounge chairs over next to Ali for Courtney and Ethan. Courtney said, “That was so nice of the Westerfelds to give us two free nights and I’m grateful we don’t have anything scheduled tomorrow so we can stay tonight. I’m also happy to see people out. It will be nice to be seen.”
“You don’t mind strangers seeing your vag?” Ali asked teasingly.
Courtney sat down on a lounge chair and spread her legs, so we all had a clear view of her sex. “Should I mind?” she asked. “Is there something wrong with it?” I couldn’t see anything wrong with Courtney’s pussy.
Ethan assured her, “Looks great, tastes great.” Courtney’s smile grew bigger.
Pam Westerfeld walked up and stopped in front of us. It seemed to me that she had lost weight since we had gone boating with her and Mitch, and I had been shot, back in April. “You guys are still here,” she said.
“Yes,” Courtney said, “thank your parents for giving us the room.” Pam didn’t seem all that pleased that her folks had given Courtney and Ethan a free room.
“Where’s Mitch?” Ali asked.
“He left,” Pam said.
“Will you join us?” Ali asked.
“I’m busy,” Pam replied and walked away.
I didn’t know Pam Westerfeld that well. “Is she usually that abrupt?” I asked once Pam was out of earshot.
“She gets into her moods,” Courtney said. Changing the topic, Courtney asked, “when are you guys leaving?”
“We aren’t,” Ali replied.
“What?” Courtney asked.
“We live here,” Ali answered. “There are a few townhouse style apartments at the back of the resort. We have one of those. Ian’s had it for a few months. I just moved in this weekend.”
“You live together?” Courtney asked.
“We do now,” Ali replied.
“And you run around naked together all the time?” Courtney asked with a hint of awe.
“Yup,” Ali answered.
“How long do you plan on doing that?” Courtney asked.
“As long as we can,” Ali replied. Ali looked at me. I knew that, although Ali was ostensibly describing our relationship to Courtney, she was asking me for a commitment.
I looked back at Ali and nodded, giving that commitment. In answer to Courtney’s question, I said, “forever if I’m lucky.”