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Liberty’s Child (Part Five)

Liberty’s Child

A Jack Collier Mystery

By Brett N. Lashuay

Look here for last week’s entry!

Day Five: Liberty and Me

 

 

            I walked into the plant room and turned to the corner on my left where she liked to stand. There was a round window that stood overhead, and the light from it fell onto her as she sat on the small stool she liked. The stool meant she had to sit up straight, or maybe she just liked sitting up, with her breasts pushing out like that. The skirt she was wearing had a long slit up the side that showed me her legs, which were strong and shapely things. She turned her golden blond coifed head towards me and smiled the smile that was insured by Lloyd’s for twenty million dollars. The sharp blue of her eyes sparkled like snow on a sunny January morning.

 

            “Hello Jack,” she said simply, and I could feel my legs wanting to go limp.

 

            Her accent was so slight you would have to know that Liberty came from France to recognize what the accent was. She exaggerated her accent when she was doing a show, but at home she might as well have just been a normal midwestern girl who had the looks of a goddess on earth. Her slightest movements were enough to make me want to go crawl up in her lap, which is what had caused me so much trouble before.

 

            “Hi Liberty,” I said looking down at her nearly bare leg, which didn’t need anything so prosaic as a pair of stockings to look alluring. She noticed me looking at her legs, and twitched the edge of the skirt to expose both knees instead of just one. “You wore that skirt again.”

 

            “I forgot you were coming,” she said, pulling the skirt back to where it had been a moment ago.

 

            “No you didn’t,” I said, shaking my head.

 

            “No, I didn’t,” she looked down at my shoes and then pushed the golden blonde hair back. “I haven’t seen you in a while and I know it’s your favorite.”

 

            “You’re not that worried about Columbia are you?”

 

            “You wore the black suit you know I like,” she said. “So let’s not pretend shall we?”

 

            “What’s going on then?” I asked.

 

            “Did you see those notes?” she asked, and I held up the envelope, which caused her to roll her eyes. “He’s been cutting those stupid things out of magazines himself.”

 

            “The major’s been making these notes?”

 

            “They look like the cover of a mystery novel,” she said and shook her head dismissively. “Who would really make something that stupid? Of course he did it, why do you think we’ve been able to keep it out of the newspapers?”

 

            “Where is she then?”

 

            “I don’t know exactly,” she said shaking her head. “But she’s spent weekends away before; she’s just spending another one away. She is an adult you know, whatever her father says.”

 

            “So, there’s nothing to worry about?”

 

            “Oh, there’s a lot to worry about,” she said leaning back and fixing her eyes on me. “My husband is insane, my eldest daughter is behaving like a little firecracker, and I haven’t had any fun in over a year.”

 

            “No?” I asked, taking a few steps towards her.

 

            “No,” she said turning her knees to me.

 

            “What a terribly sad story,” my fingers reached out and touched her left knee with the tip of my finger. “What do you want me to do about this?”

 

            “Oh, lots of things,” she said smiling at me. “Mostly though, I’d like you to find her and bring her home for me.”

 

            “But you think she’s okay?”

 

            “I need her brought home so we can explain to that stupid old man that she’s not being kidnapped every ten minutes.” She nearly spat the words out.

 

            “Okay,” I nodded while my fingers walked up her leg a little. “I can probably do that, where has she been hanging out lately?”

 

            “She was supposed to be with some friends that night, but she never really showed up.”

 

            “Not what I asked,” I said drawing my hand away for the moment.

 

            “She’s been spending a lot of time at The Flower Bed, hanging out with Tiger,” Liberty said, shifting those beautiful blue eyes to the floor. “She just goes there to hang out, she likes spending time with them. Rose and Daisy wouldn’t let her do anything, you know that.”

 

            “Sure,” I nodded sagely and then lied to a woman I’d once really loved. “I know that they wouldn’t let her do anything.”

 

            “She’s not a bad girl,” the woman I had once loved so deeply it kept me up at night said. “She’s just going through a stage of adjustment. She wants to do what her mother did at her age.”

 

            “I’ll get her back,” I said tapping the envelope against my leg. “You think the Fed and locals are really working on this?”

 

            “Not really,” she said shaking that beautiful blonde coifed head. “I explained it to them, but Tom is so very important and they all have to look like their making an effort. It’s really not a big deal you know?”

 

            She was lying to me, like she always did. If I counted up all the times I knew she was lying to me, I’d probably have to double or triple that number to get the number of times she’d actually lied to me. A woman like that can make a man paranoid, and I didn’t really need the extra help.

 

            “I understand I think,” I said to her. If she was going to lie I could do it too. “I’ll get her back for you, all intact and stuff.”

 

            “Thank you,” she started to stand up.

 

            From where I was standing I would have had to take a step back for her not to bump into me, so I didn’t step back. I wanted her to press her breasts against my chest and to feel her heat in this already hot room. She did that and I felt like a cad for making her, even though she pressed in more than she needed to. She put her arms around me and pressed her lips against mine.

 

            I sort of wanted to pull away from her, to not take advantage of her. She was a married woman whose child was missing. The problem was that her breasts felt firm against my chest and her body was strong and supple, just like I remembered. While her tongue slipped into my mouth, I couldn’t help but think of Columbia naked and handcuffed to a pipe in the basement. I tried to pull away from the kiss a little, but she pushed herself back onto me pressing her body tight against mine.

 

            “Oh, I’ve missed you,” she whispered after she finally broke away for breath. Her fingers ruffled the short black hair at the back of my head.

 

            “I’ve got to go and find your daughter,” I said, trying not to let my voice catch in my throat.

 

            “I just wanted to kiss you again,” she said hugging me. “I just wanted you to respond again.”

 

            “Well, I’ve responded now, haven’t I?” I asked as she pressed herself into my response.

 

            “Yes,” she smiled up at me.

 

            “I’ve got to go now.”

 

            “Alright,” she nodded slowly as I pulled away from her.

 

            I didn’t turn my back on her, I walked away from her and stopped just before I hit the door. I had to take my eyes off her to reach for the handle, but I figured I was far enough away that if I looked away I wouldn’t get immediately jumped. It was only a moment, but she took six steps before I got my eyes back on her. She smiled at me taking another delicate step towards me; I twisted the doorknob and yanked the door open, leaning towards her as I did. She leaned towards me and I couldn’t help myself but to kiss her again. It probably wasn’t a good idea, to keep starting this affair up every time I saw her, but I just couldn’t help it.

 

            I walked out of the room and was relieved to see that the hallway was empty. I walked down the long hall alone, and eventually came to the front hall and saw Bendis standing alone by the grandfather clock reading the newspaper. His eyes glanced over the paper, saw me, and then folded it under his arm in one motion.

 

            “Mister Collier,” Bendis said with a nod.

 

            “Bendis,” I said passing him by.

 

            “Will you need anything?” Bendis asked. “A check or other symbol of retainment?”

 

            “Not yet,” I said, not wanting to explain that Mrs. Freedom had more than retained me. “I’ll call when I need something.”

 

            He walked out ahead of me and opened the door for me, which let the heat of summer slap me in the face. I walked out into the humidity, which was like stepping into an oven. It was too damn hot, too damn humid, and just too much bull. I walked down the stairs and pulled my suit jacket off as I opened the door to my little car. I tossed it into the backseat and sat down in the driver’s seat, closing the door behind me. I turned the car on to get the air conditioning going as quickly as possible. I would have to call ahead if I was going to go to The Flower Bed, they didn’t like it if you showed up without an appointment.

 

This is part five of twenty-three, come back next week for part six and every Thursday until we’re done to see what happens next. If you get lost, one of the tags here should help you. The Wonderland tag will take you to the story while the Jack Tag will take you to Part One of every story we post here.

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April 22, 2009 Posted by | Fiction, Jack | | Leave a comment

He wassss a man

I’ve got to go with what seems to be the popular opinion about the new Cobra Commander for the new G.I. Joe movie, which is “That looks terrible.”

Now you might argue that the metallic mask would have looked bad or that this is more realistic, and you might be right, but what was wrong with the hood? I don’t buy the argument that it looked like a KKK hood, and even if it did… so what? Bad guys all look sort of universal, right? We are still talking about liberal Hollywood here aren’t we?

And as for the realism argument… well I guess I can agree. I mean, when you’re talking about a super-elite military group made up of a woman who took the name of the heroin in Gone with the Wind, a black guy who always speaks in rhyme, and a ninja who are fighting against a terrorist group run by a used car salesman and a Scotsman in a metal mask who have their own ninja and an eastern European hottie as hench-people, then realism is of the UTMOST importance. We don’t want to look silly here.

April 22, 2009 Posted by | Uncategorized | Leave a comment