20,000 Kisses

20,000 Kisses

Published by Willie Qwit at Smashwords

Copyright 2010 Willie Qwit

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 - Marty

Chapter 2 - The Majestic Café

Chapter 3 - Reflection

Chapter 4 - Betrayal

Chapter 5 - Confrontation

Chapter 6 - Eric

Chapter 7 - What Investigation?

Chapter 8 - Eric’s Attraction

Chapter 9 - Harvey Speaks

Chapter 10 - Breaking Up

Chapter 11 – A Safe Port in the Storm

Chapter 12 - Attraction

Chapter 13 - Blind Date

Chapter 14 - Harvey Helps

Chapter 15 - The Kiss

Chapter 16 - What Harvey Knows

Chapter 17 - Administrative Leave

Chapter 18 - The Note

Chapter 19 - Friday Night

Chapter 20 - Disclosure

Chapter 21 - Ethan

Chapter 22 - Separation

Chapter 23 - Schedule Change

Chapter 24 - Prisoner

Chapter 25 - Rescue

Chapter 26 - Justice

Chapter 27 - Loose Ends

Chapter 28 - Cardea

# # #

Chapter 1 - Marty

Marty packed his gun, a pair of binoculars, and two bottles of water into a small duffle bag. Then he put on some dark clothes, locked the house, stowed the bag on the passenger seat of his car, and headed for the airport. He took a twenty mile roundabout route that brought him in from the north. When he got close to the airport he turned onto the north airport service road. Marty drove the last two miles with his headlights off, using the light of a half moon to find his way. He stopped when he was able to see the outline of the control tower in the moonlight, and then walked the rest of the way to the edge of the airport property. The airport area was dark except for the beacons on the roof of the control tower. He found a place to hide under some brush just north of the runway and directly across from the maintenance hangar where he worked. Marty checked his watch. It was 11:00. He knew it might be a long night and settled in to wait.

He was starting to doze off when he heard the sound of a plane approaching from the west. He checked his watch again. Two am. Marty recognized the distinctive drone of a single engine turboprop. He had to judge the plane’s position by sound because the plane was running dark, and based on the sound of the aircraft it was coming in dangerously low. About a mile out the pilot turned on his position and landing lights. Immediately after that the airport runway and taxiway lights came on.

Marty looked across the runway at the maintenance hanger. The large doors had been opened and the interior lights had been turned on. He used his binoculars to scan the scene. He was able to see the silhouettes of five men standing outside the building. Marty couldn’t make out any of their features because of the backlighting created by the building’s bright interior lights. He panned the binoculars to the right and saw two vans nearby. They were parked in the shadows such that he couldn’t make out the license plates.

The plane landed and taxied to the hangar. A single pilot deplaned and shook hands all around. The pilot and one of the five men went inside the building. Another guy began refueling the plane, and the remaining three started transferring packages from the plane to the two vans.

It took them less than 15 minutes to unload the plane and refuel it. The pilot and the first guy came out of the hangar and rejoined the group. They all stood in a circle and talked for another five minutes or so. Then the pilot shook everyone’s hand again before getting back in the plane. He started the engine, taxied out to the runway, and took off. The plane’s lights went out at around 500 feet, Marty estimated. The runway and taxiway lights were extinguished right after that. Marty watched as the five men turned out the building lights, closed the hangar doors, got into the vans, and drove off into the night.

There was little doubt in Marty’s mind that he’d just witnessed a smuggling operation of some sort. The aircraft landing and departure in the middle of the night was clearly illegal. The control tower was shut down for the night, and the plane was flying without position lights. The plane’s landing lights and the runway and taxiway lights all came on moments before the plane touched down. A fistful of FAA regulations had just been violated.

He remained motionless in his hidey hole for ten more minutes before he walked back to his car. He kept his headlights off until he reached the state blacktop, and then drove home using the same roundabout route he’d used to go out to the airport. A pickup truck pulled off a side road and followed him for the last few miles. Marty rented a house on Route 11, one of the major roads in and out of town. He didn’t think there was anything out of the ordinary about the pickup, especially since it kept on going when he pulled into his driveway.

Once he was inside Marty unpacked the duffle bag. He put the gun on the nightstand. At least he didn’t need to use that thing, he thought. He stretched out across his bed and tried to sleep. His body was tired but his mind wouldn’t shut down.

He was fairly certain the plane was a Cessna Caravan, a single-engine turboprop that was built in a number of different configurations. He hadn’t been able to see the inside of the plane from his vantage point. If it was configured for transporting cargo it would have a maximum range of around 1,000 miles carrying a 2,000 pound load. The airport was about 300 miles from the Mexican border, which meant the plane could have come from practically anywhere in the northern half of Mexico. Or from anywhere in the United States within a thousand mile radius, for that matter.

The hangar backlighting had made it all but impossible to see the men. Their faces had been blurs and he hadn’t recognized any of their mannerisms or body shapes. Hell, he thought, for all he knew he worked with those guys every day. The most unsettling thing aside from the smuggling operation was the fact that the men had unfettered access to the airport and the maintenance hangar where he worked.

He gave up on the idea of getting any sleep around six in the morning. He decided to call Kevin Fowler, a good friend and a lieutenant with the Glenrock Police Department. At that point Kevin was the only one he trusted on the police force. He called Kevin’s home number but got his voice mail. He hung up without leaving a message and then called the non-emergency police number.

Glenrock Police Department. How may I direct your call?

"Yes, good morning. I’m trying to reach Kevin Fowler.

Lieutenant Fowler had to drive over to Fort Worth for some business this morning. He should be back after lunch. Can someone else help you?

No, this is a friend of his. It’s personal business. I’ll catch up with him later.

Okay, just call back if you need to speak with an officer.

I sure will. Thanks.

He brain was still running a mile a minute. Sleep was out of the question, so he decided to go into town for breakfast. He figured maybe after that he’d be able to get some sleep and then track down Kevin later in the day. He changed into some blue jeans and a sweatshirt, put the gun in the top drawer of his nightstand, grabbed a pen and some paper, and got in his car.

Marty saw a pickup truck parked on the shoulder of the road about a quarter mile to the east. It was parked so that it was facing Marty’s house. He turned onto Route 11 and headed west into town. The truck pulled out and followed him. What the hell, he thought. Then he remembered the pickup that followed him part of the way home from the airport, and wondered if it could be the same one. The idea made his skin crawl. He saw the outline of two men in the pickup. One was wearing a cowboy hat.

He felt his paranoia growing as the truck followed him into town. When he reached the Majestic Café Marty jerked the steering wheel to the right, slipped into a parking place, slammed on the brakes, and turned his head. The truck accelerated as it went by, but Marty was still able to at least get a glimpse of the rear license plate. This is getting too damn weird, he thought as he went into the café and took a seat at the counter.

Linda Haverstock smiled when she saw him. Well hey there, Marty.

Morning, Linda.

You’re up awfully early for a Saturday. Isn’t this supposed to be your day off?

Yeah. Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d come in and have some breakfast. I’ll take another stab at some shuteye once I top off the tank.

He patted his stomach with a forced smile.

Well, one thing I know for sure is that if you’re hungry, you’ve come to the right place. So what’ll you have?

Black coffee and toast. Decaf. And I think I’ll go with your world class three egg omelet.

She grinned. It is world class, I have to agree. Be ready in no time.

Sounds good. I’m gonna grab a booth.

Help yourself. I’m brewing a fresh pot. I’ll bring your coffee over as soon as it’s ready.

Thanks.

Marty walked over to a booth and took the seat facing the front of the cafe. A couple of minutes later Linda came by with a newspaper, a cup, and a pot of coffee. She handed him the newspaper as she poured.

Here’s something to keep you out of trouble while your food’s cooking.

Thanks, Linda. Appreciate it.

Marty glanced at the headlines, then folded the newspaper and put it aside. He pulled out the pen and paper and started jotting down some notes about what he’d seen at the airport, the pickup that had followed him part of the way home, and the pickup that had followed him into town. He was deep in thought when he heard another familiar voice.

Good morning Marty, how are you?

Marty looked up and saw K.T. McClellan smiling at him.

Oh, hey K.T.

Marty are you feeling alright?

Sure, never been better. Why?

Well, you seem a bit preoccupied. I was wondering if I could ask you to move that paper so I can put your food on the table. You know. If it’s not too much trouble.

Ah! Sorry. I must have been daydreaming.

Marty self-consciously slid his notes under the newspaper. K.T. put the toast and omelet on the table.

Well my my, aren’t we being secretive? What is that you have there? Your list of girlfriends?

Marty tried to act nonchalant. Yeah, sure, that’s it. And with me you know it’s gonna be a long list.

Of course. Let me know if you need anything. Enjoy.

She gave him a friendly wink as she turned and headed for the kitchen. Marty dug into his breakfast. He was starting to push the events of the previous night to the back of his mind when the front door opened and two men walked in. One was wearing a tan western style Stetson. Marty felt their eyes linger on him as they looked around the café. After an uncomfortable minute they took a couple of seats at the counter.

Were they the same men he’d seen in the pickup? He couldn’t be sure. One looked familiar. Where had he seen that face before? The airport? Yes, he was sure of it, he’d seen the one in the Stetson at the airport, but not the previous night. Marty couldn’t remember when or in what context he’d seen the guy. He scribbled another line of notes and then stared at the back of the Stetson trying to remember more.

The man in the hat swiveled on his seat and looked at Marty with eyes that were completely devoid of emotion. Then he turned and said something to his companion. Marty felt himself getting totally creeped out. Menus were kept in metal stands on each table. Marty pulled one out and pretended to look it over as he watched the two men. The menu was comprised of two clear plastic pockets that folded together, with printed menu pages inserted into the pockets. On an impulse Marty slipped his notes in-between the menu pages and then put the menu back in its place. For some reason he didn’t want to carry the notes with him. He decided he’d come back later with Kevin to retrieve them.

His growing sense of unease kept him from finishing his breakfast. He left a generous tip and then paid for his meal at the register up front. K.T. rang up his tab.

How was everything today, Marty?

Delicious as usual, K.T. He glanced over and saw the two men watching him. He looked back at K.T., who had followed his eyes and saw him checking out the strangers. She had a look of concern on her face.

Marty, are you sure you’re alright?

Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit tired is all. It’s been a long week.

Well, okay. You take care of yourself. And thanks for coming in this morning.

You bet. See you next time.

K.T. smiled. We’ll be here.

Marty got in his car and drove home, periodically checking the rear view mirror to make sure he wasn’t being followed. When he got home he made a long distance call to his best friend. Voice mail picked up after four rings.

Hey you. It’s Marty. Listen, I think I’ve gotten myself into a jam down here. It’s a long story. I started writing up some notes but I think it’d be a lot easier if I just explain it to you over the phone. I’m scared, man. No kidding. Call me as soon as you get this message. It’s Saturday, around eight in the morning. Talk to you soon.

Marty walked through the house to make sure the windows and doors were locked. He looked out a front window but nothing looked unusual or out of the ordinary. Satisfied that things were under control he went in the bedroom, retrieved his gun and put it back on the nightstand, stripped down, and crawled into bed. Physical exhaustion finally overcame his anxiety as he fell into a deep sleep.

An hour later someone picked the lock on his back door. Marty never heard the door open, never heard the footsteps of the man that slipped quietly into his room, and he never heard the gunshot that ended his life.

Chapter 2 - The Majestic Café

Glenrock, Texas is a city of 65,000 located in north Texas. The town is situated in Palo Pinto county, which straddles Interstate 20 around 75 miles west of Fort Worth. The rolling hills of the region are home to an abundance of wildlife, including roadrunners, white-tailed deer, and armadillo.

The sandy gray-black soil has always been well suited for farming and raising livestock. The area averages enough annual rainfall to make it work. The number of farms and ranches in the county grew dramatically during the early 1900s as immigrants from England, Scotland, Austria, Italy, and other European nations migrated to the area. Farming and ranching have remained key components of the local economy for generations. Oil and natural gas production have been big economic factors in the county for over 100 years, dating back to the county’s first oil well in 1901.

The Interstate Highway System was the key economic development factor that helped transform Glenrock from a quiet farming community of 1,500 into an important manufacturing and distribution center. The city’s most recent notable achievement was the opening of Millennium Aeronautics, the state’s newest and largest regional airport. Burke Anderson, without a doubt the wealthiest man in Palo Pinto county, had financed and overseen the construction and management of the airport since ground was broken on the project five years ago.

The Majestic Café, which was located a half mile off the interstate, was open for breakfast and lunch Monday through Saturday. The café had a loyal clientele base in the community. Their proximity to the interstate meant that they were also able to pull in quite a few customers that were passing through, people that were stopping off in Glenrock to find a good meal at a fair price.

The Monday morning breakfast crowd had come and gone, and the women that ran the Majestic were busy gearing up for lunch. Linda was working behind the counter, putting away clean dishes, glasses, and silverware. K.T. was straightening up the tables and booths in the restaurant area. Mildred Cushing, the third full time employee of the Majestic, was working in the kitchen. She was giving the French onion soup the final touch of spices that made it the most popular item on the lunch menu. The remainder of Linda’s workforce was made up of two part time teenagers that washed dishes, mopped the floor, handled oversized bags of potatoes, and whatever else needed doing at any particular time.

Linda Haverstock was the 52 year old owner of the Majestic Café. She was an attractive woman with a medium build, short black hair, and a ready smile that lit up her face. Linda had owned and operated the Majestic Café with her husband, Nick, for 12 years. Then one day around five years ago Nick had said that he didn’t feel very well and headed home. Linda found him in bed when she got home after work. The next morning Nick had complained of acute stomach pain. He’d felt even worse the next couple of days. Ultimately Nick was diagnosed with liver cancer. By the time the doctors found it the disease was too advanced for any sort of surgical solution. Nick underwent radiation and chemo therapies, but despite his best efforts and those of the medical community Nick died within nine months of his diagnosis. That had all been five years ago.

Linda had been devastated by Nick’s death. She’d closed the café when he passed away, and then surprised everyone that knew her when she reopened the Majestic exactly three weeks later. She’d said at the time that she was going nuts moping around the house, and that working was the best therapy in the world for her. She’d kept the café open ever since, serving breakfast and lunch Monday through Saturday.

K.T., which she pronounced as ‘Katie’, was Linda’s niece. K.T. was tall and slender, with a willowy figure most women coveted and nearly all men admired. She was a 29 year old beauty that, for some reason, didn’t seem to understand just how attractive she truly was. When K.T. looked in the mirror all she ever saw was K.T. She kept her long, brown hair pulled back in a ponytail when she was at work, and except for a touch of lipstick rarely wore any makeup at all.

K.T. worked full time at the café to help out her aunt. She thought of Linda more as a friend than a relative. K.T. had lost both parents in a car accident when she was still in college, and after that spent her time off from school with Linda and Nick. K.T. had moved to Glenrock around a year ago, and was renting a house a block over from where her aunt lived.

K.T. was a special agent with the Criminal Investigation division of the IRS. Well, she had been, until she took an indefinite leave of absence from her work after sustaining an injury. Unfortunately there weren’t any bandages, casts, or operations that could help with her injury. At least not until modern medicine found a cure for a broken heart.

Mildred was a pleasant and plump 60-ish bundle of pure energy. She kept the kitchen running with a precision even a drill sergeant would admire. She was always coy about her true age, a subject that neither Linda nor K.T. pressed her on. Mildred had never married, and except for her four cats she had no family. She read voraciously in her spare time, and was a huge devotee of romance novels. She enjoyed most of the romance sub-genres and was always recommending new books or new authors that caught her attention.

The lunch crowd started trickling in around 11:00. Hank Ingersoll and a companion came in at 11:30 and sat down at the counter. Hank was an aircraft mechanic at Millennium Aeronautics, just as Marty had been up until the day he was murdered. Hank’s friend had just said something that Hank evidently found extremely funny, because he was laughing hysterically when the two men walked in. Linda and K.T. were both behind the counter when the men sat down.

Hey there ladies, how’s it going today?

Linda said, Well hey yourself, Hank. I think we might make it. Who’s your friend?

This is Eric Warson. Just started over at Millennium today. Moved to Glenrock this past weekend, in fact.

Linda extended her hand. Nice to meet you, Eric. I’m Linda Haverstock. Welcome to Glenrock.

Eric took her hand and nodded. Thanks a lot, Linda. The pleasure’s mine.

K.T. walked over to meet Eric. Hello there. I’m K.T.

Eric gave her a big smile. Well hello there. It’s good to meet you. Do you spell your name K-a-t-i-e or K-a-t-y?

K.T. returned his smile as Eric extended his hand. Quite a looker, she thought. Very much so, in fact. She shook his hand. Warm skin, firm grip…stop that, K.T. He asked her something. Yikes, what was that he asked? Oh yeah, how to spell her name.

Neither, actually. Just the letters K and T. I guess most people end up pronouncing it as a single word.

Eric folder his arms as he leaned back on the stool. He looked at her like he was considering something very profound. He glanced at Linda, and then at Hank.

The letters K and T? That’s it? What the hell kind of a name is that for a good looking woman like you? Why that’s not even a word, much less a name!

Hank laughed and Linda chuckled. K.T. hated it when people made fun of her name. She felt her cheeks go flush. She’d just met this guy and already he’d found one of her hot buttons. Those rugged good looks had distracted her. So okay, calm down, she thought. He’s probably not trying to be mean. Acting like an idiot must come naturally to him. She took a slow and measured breath.

My name is Kathleen Theresa, if you must know. I find that decidedly formal so I just go with the nickname K.T. It’s actually worked quite well for me for many years, even though as you’ve so adroitly pointed out it’s not really a word.

She hoped Eric would pick up on her sarcasm. She gave him her patented problem customer smile. Most people got the idea she wasn’t really all that happy when she gave them that look.

Eric tilted his head and gave her an appraising look. She could feel his eyes laughing at her. He wasn’t smiling, and yet she could tell this jerk was laughing at her with those eyes. Those absolutely adorable, bright blue…whoa girl! Hold it right there. She slammed the brakes on that line of thinking.

Decidedly? Adroitly? Hank, you didn’t tell me I should bring along a dictionary when we left for lunch.

Hank stifled a laugh. K.T. felt herself go flush again, but this time she could feel it spread down to her neck as well. Linda picked up on the verbal exchange and switched subjects.

So tell us, Eric. What do you do out at the airport?

I’m an aircraft mechanic. I took the place of the man that was killed.

There was sudden and complete silence. Eric maintained eye contact with K.T. as he said that. She saw his eyes change. There was an almost imperceptible hint of sadness that crept into them. The look was only there for an instant, and then Eric shifted his gaze over to Linda.

He said, I know you folks suffered a big loss a while back, and for that I truly am sorry. It’s a tough spot I’m in, and I know it, replacing a man that was killed like that. Hank told me you all liked him a lot. And I’ve heard he was a fine mechanic, too. Well, I’m sure not here to be in some competition with the man. I’m just who I am, and I needed a job, and so I came down to Glenrock. Anyway. Like I said, I’m very sorry.

Eric looked back at K.T. She picked up on it again. Sadness. Just a hint of it. How very odd, she thought. Well, maybe this joker wasn’t a complete write-off as a human being.

Hank patted Eric on the back. Well said, Eric. And it’s okay. Marty was a fine man, no question about it, and we all miss him. But it’s a tough world and she just keeps on spinning no matter what, and his spot had to be filled. No way we could keep up with the workload without replacing Marty. So it might as well be you as the next man. But nobody’s going to expect you to fill another man’s shoes.

Fair enough, said Eric. That’s all a man can ask.

K.T. said, Excuse me for a moment.

She stepped away to check the coffee brewers. Eric had her off balance and she needed a distraction so she could gather her thoughts.

Linda, Hank, and Eric continued to chat. She stole a look at Eric as she worked. He was handsome, of that there was no question. Dark black hair, rugged good looks, even features, and those damn bright blue eyes. She focused on his lips. What was it about those lips? Kissable, perhaps? She suddenly realized Eric was looking directly at her. And smiling. What a great smile that man has…

Hey Kitty, think I might be able to get some coffee over here?

Kitty? She hated that nickname. Did somebody brief this schmuck on what to say to piss her off? She nodded and turned away so he wouldn’t see her cheeks turn red for the third time in seven seconds. Or at least that’s what it seemed like.

Linda finished taking their lunch order and went into the kitchen. K.T. forced herself to smile as she served coffee to the two men.

Here you go, fellas.

Hank said, Thanks, K.T.

Eric just smiled at her with that thousand kilowatt smile of his and nodded. She put the coffee pot back on the warmer and followed Linda into the kitchen. She found Linda and Mildred huddled together, whispering and giggling like a couple of school girls.

…and the most adorable dimples you’ve ever seen on a man. Oh K.T., I was just describing our new friend Eric to Mildred.

Mildred