Dangerous Professions

Dangerous Professions

A Dangerous Novel by

Alan Guzzetti

Copyright © 2014 by Alan Guzzetti

All Rights Reserved

Other books by this author

No More Smoking in Bed

True Adventures of My Life

Riverview

A Novel of Crime and Punishment

Never Far From Danger

The Sequel to Dangerous Professions

For more information visit: www.americanpacificbooks.com

Chapter One

San Francisco

Shannon pulled the trigger twice and hit him in the chest. He stopped, coughed once, and fell on his side - literally dead in his tracks. She was shaking. She turned him on his back to keep the blood from running all over the bed.

The unique smell of gunpowder hung in the still air of the room, bringing back an instant girlhood memory. She could taste as well as smell it. She remembered a Fourth of July evening years ago, sitting in the bleachers with her little friend Rebecca Slater, close to the ramp where the fireworks were being sent off. It both frightened and fascinated her. This time it was not a pleasant experience.

Shannon breathed in and let out a big sigh. She had survived yet another attack from a madman client. This one had tried to strangle her after slapping and punching her face several times.

Fortunately, she had been able to get to the pocket pistol that she always kept in a handy hiding place – under the fold of the blanket at the foot of the bed. It was a Harrison & Richardson .32 caliber revolver. It was somewhat of an antique, but it was in good condition. She had acquired the pistol from a friend several years earlier, after telling him of being attacked by an errant lover for the second time.

Shannon felt terrible. Once again, she had to defend herself, and it didn’t feel good. The only saving grace was that it wouldn’t happen again. She decided that she was giving up this profession.

What’s wrong with these idiots? She pondered. They could be so charming and polite at first, and then they would go crazy, acting out their aggressions on the very one who gives them pleasure.

God, I hate it when this happens. Who wants to take a life? But, it was either his life or hers.

She worried that this one wasn’t going to be easy to get rid of. She had seen his picture in the newspaper several times. He was a prominent San Francisco attorney; married with children.

She went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. She spoke aloud. Not too bad, I guess. She had been lucky this time. Most people wouldn’t notice the welts under her chin, and they’d be gone in a few hours.

She turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face. Then, she cupped her hand and drank from the little pocket that formed in her palm. She blotted herself dry with a towel and went to the telephone next to the bed where the dead man lay. She punched a number into the handset and let it ring twice at the other end. Then, she hung up and hit redial.

While she was awaiting an answer, she unconsciously tidied up the bed with her free right hand, pulling the sheets taut and tugging on the blanket under the body. She gathered up her thoughts and tried to sound tough, but she was shaking. Someone answered when the phone rang a second time. Shannon spoke calmly to her cleaner at the other end of the phone. Better get over here and help me with this mess. I don’t think I can handle it by myself.

There was no response from the recipient of the call – just a click as he hung up. She knew that Mike would be there in a few minutes. Mike always took the rings, watches, cufflinks, and any other items of value from the bodies, partly so that it would look like a robbery, and partly because there was no point in not doing so.

Might as well make lemonade he would say. The lemons are readily available.

Shannon would keep half of any folding money in addition to her fee. Shannon’s clients were always prominent men. As often as not, they were visiting executives from out of town. Those were the best assignations, because she could quietly slip into their hotel and find the designated room without being noticed.

She used an elaborate but somewhat secure system of communication. Her booking agent would leave a brief nonsense message on her apartment phone answering system. Shannon would always return the call from a public phone in order to get the client’s name and address.

She was careful not to use her cell phone as those calls were traceable. It was worth all the trouble to her since her fees ranged from $1500 to $2000, sometimes more, depending on what she was asked to do and what she felt she could get away with.

Shannon was twenty-three years old and her beauty was renowned among the clientele that sought her company. Her sexual talents were prodigious and her reputation as the best in the business was well deserved. Shannon was young, wealthy, beautiful, and at the top of her game. She had off-shore bank accounts, and she lived fairly modestly in a decent neighborhood, moving once every year or so.

During her four years as an independent contractor there had been four incidents such as the one this evening, occurring in three different cities. Fortunately, Mike had always been there to back her up.

Only once, had it been necessary for him to dispose of a body in a hotel. He did so by cleverly starting a mattress fire with one of the man’s cigars. He waited until the fire was raging, fanning the flames until he almost lost consciousness from the lack of oxygen in the room. Then, he slipped out of the hotel. By the time the fire was discovered, the body had been charred beyond recognition and the subsequent investigation revealed no foul play.

Shannon met Mike when she was only nineteen years old. He was twenty-seven. She was spectacularly gorgeous, with natural blond hair worn shoulder length. Her hair shimmered with beautiful highlights and it framed her perfect face and full lips. Her eyes were as green as the sea in bright sunlight – vivid and penetrating. She weighed one hundred and fifteen pounds and stood five feet, six inches. Her breasts, un-augmented, were pronounced, and perfectly formed with a natural cleavage that gained attention from all those who saw her – women as well as men. She had a nineteen-inch waist and appeared to have very long legs. They were slim and shapely. When she wore slacks, her derriere appeared to be round and full.

She was working at a cosmetics counter at Macy’s when Mike, shopping for his girlfriend, met her and found her to be engaging and intelligent. Mike was six feet, two inches tall and very muscular with very little body fat. He had a full head of black wavy hair and appeared to be of Italian descent – somewhat dark, with rugged features. He had almost black eyes and full lips.

What would you choose? he asked. The Joy, Chanel, or some of these new celebrity perfumes?

Shannon said, If she’s worth it, I’d stick with the classics. I like Shalimar, by Guerlain. It’s not inexpensive. Want to sniff it? It’s been around for years, but we still carry it.

She sprayed a tiny poof on her left wrist and then rubbed her other wrist on it. Then, she stepped back a foot or two and waved her arms around to disperse some of the fragrance into the air.

Now smell, she instructed while proffering her wrist within an inch under his nose.

This isn’t fair, he protested. On you, anything would be delightful. First, tell me your name. I’m Mike

Now, now, she parried. Normally, I would reject that question out of hand. You’re flirting. She pointed to her left breast. However, you may not have noticed my name tag.

Mike confessed, I really feel stupid. I was so overwhelmed with the whole vision – your, uhmm, countenance. I didn’t see it, Shannon. And yes, the fragrance is really delicious.

Shannon replied, Now that the amenities are out of the way, are you interested in purchasing the fragrance?

She was enjoying the banter, Mike pushed forward. Sure. Please wrap it up with the understanding that you will let me take you for a coffee or a sandwich when you get a break. Okay?

Shannon wasn’t finished with him yet. What about the perfume? Who is the lucky girl – your wife?

She saw that Mike was no fool. No, no way. I’m not married – not even heavily involved. This person did me a personal favor and I just want to show my appreciation. I have no other interest in her. I carry no baggage.

Yeah, well time may tell, she said. Okay, I get a twenty minute break in another half hour, so we can have coffee in the downstairs café.

At break time, Mike took Shannon’s arm and slipped his hand to her waist, gently guiding her to the escalator. They spent the twenty minutes sipping their coffees and asking each other questions. There was obvious interest, and it was mutual.

Shannon had recently broken it off with her last beau, an older man named Jim Highland. She said that they had been together for about two months and that two months was typical with most of her relationships. Jim had become jealous to the point of distraction and she just got tired of being defensive whenever he questioned her.

The guy just wouldn’t relent she complained. He started snooping around my apartment when he would come over, and I even caught him looking at my cell phone bill. I never gave him a reason to be concerned. Men often make passes at me. I can’t help it.

Mike responded, Guys like me, you mean? Well, I can’t help it either. You’re intelligent and charming.

Shannon noticed that he had purposely avoided any obsequious reference to her obvious beauty. She’d heard all that many times before, and she knew he wanted to leave her with a somewhat different impression. She liked his style.

Shannon said, Well, time’s up. So, are you going to ask me to dinner?

Of course, he said, trying not to stammer. Here are two of my business cards. Please write your phone number and address on one, and keep the other. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven. That Okay?

Mike was only nine minutes late the next evening; just enough to appear not too anxious, but enough to let Shannon know who was in control. He didn’t apologize. He said, I made reservations for eight o’clock at D’Angelo’s. We’ll probably have time for a drink at the bar first. You ready?

Mike drove a late model Mercedes. Classy. He volunteered that he Imported PC computers from China and that his work took him to various cities because he had built a network of contacts who distributed his products. He added that it didn’t matter where he lived. He had moved frequently in the past few years. Except for extended trips to China once or twice a year, he only traveled a few days a month. He had lived in San Francisco for the past two years.

Shannon guessed that he might be fairly affluent. She wanted to know where he lived. I guess that since you move around a bit, it doesn’t make sense to buy a house, or does it?, she asked.

Mike replied, You’re right. I like to live simply and I don’t want dogs and cats, yard work – that sort of thing. I’ve got a nice condo in that new development near Moscone Center, south of Market Street. I just bite the bullet and pay an outrageous monthly lease. I’ve got the contract structured so that now that I’ve passed the two year mark, I can bail out with thirty days notice. You never know. I may want to move back to New York.

Shannon thought she’d have to see this place. Maybe tonight. So far, she liked what she saw in Mike, and there was no doubt that he felt likewise.

They had drinks at the bar, a luscious dinner of Spring Greens salad, Coq au Vin, with the most delicious mushroom sherry sauce imaginable, followed by demitasse coffee. It all set up the rest of the evening. Mike insisted on showing her his condo, and Shannon didn’t resist. It was spectacular. Sixteen hundred square feet, on the sixth floor, with an incredible view of the bay and the bridges. Mike had it professionally decorated. He said that there was no shortage of gay, creative interior decorators in this town.

Whoever the guy was, he had impeccable taste, Shannon said.

Well, Mike defended I didn’t just write a large check. I had some input too, you know. Actually, I picked out the four Robert Graham statuettes, and he recommended some of the paintings.

There were two Larry Bell paintings, one done in mixed media, and one done in ink, glass, and paint. Shannon studied both works for a long time. Mike didn’t say anything.

She noticed the surprise on his face when she said, Larry Bell is fantastic. I’ve wanted to go to Taos to visit his studio for a long time.

Meanwhile, Shannon was thinking that this guy was only twenty-seven. He was living in what must be a three or four thousand dollar a month condo, and she was looking at several hundred thousand dollars worth of original art.

You live simply, you said, Shannon reminded him. "I live simply. This is not simple."

Now, it was four years later, they were back in San Francisco, and there was another body to get rid of.

Earlier

Shannon Racette was born in Portland, Maine. Her father, Howard, was an internal medicine specialist who had built a lucrative practice and had founded his own clinic with the help of two other doctors. Shannon’s mother, Cynthia, was a local celebrity. Cynthia had a talk show that aired twice a week on KTPM, and was broadcast over a three-state area through affiliate stations.

The program was called Show and Tell, and was all about Cynthia getting her guests to tell their most intimate secrets. Cynthia was a very clever host, and was successful at pulling information from complete strangers – information that they never would have dreamed they would share. Show and Tell was most popular among women, but it had a fairly good following from the male contingent as well.

Both Howard and Cynthia were completely immersed in their careers. Shannon saw them for a few hours a day some days, but had to fend for herself most of the time. In spite of the lack of attention and love, Shannon excelled in school. She had an I.Q. of 145, and the work came easy to her. Still, she craved attention and love from her parents, and it seldom came. She wanted to be validated as a person by them.

She had one girlfriend, Rebecca Slater. Both girls were beautiful by the time they were thirteen-years-old. But, they weren’t particularly interested in boys just yet.

One afternoon, Shannon called Rebecca into the bathroom with her. Look, I’m menstruating already.

Rebecca, who was a few months older said, I started a few weeks ago, too. I don’t know why it’s such a big deal. I didn’t think to mention it to you.

Shannon replied, It is a big deal. We’ll both be fourteen – you in a month, and me in three months, and we can start having sex. Shannon thought that sex might lead to love and would fulfill an important need for her.

I’m not interested in sex, said Rebecca. Unless, Tad Walter wants me.

Tad was a seventeen-year-old high school football star who lived a few blocks away from both their houses. All the girls thought he was cute. Shannon and Rebecca both knew girls with whom he had been sexually involved.

Of course he’ll want you, silly, Shannon offered. But, I want you first. We can learn a lot from each other so that we’ll be prepared for the boys.

At first, Rebecca was shocked. Then, she realized that she had been suppressing similar thoughts of experimentation. She said, Well, we are the best of friends, we’re both beautiful, and we love each other. You’re the only one I trust, and we can both keep a secret. So . . . She left the rest to Shannon’s imagination.

When Shannon heard Rebecca say we love each other, it hit home, and her attraction increased instantly. She couldn’t wait to take it to the next level. Her first sexual experience was an amazing awakening - she hungered for more.

When Shannon turned sixteen, her mother Cynthia decided that she should complete her education at a finishing school in Switzerland. She spoke to Howard about it, and since he didn’t spend much time with his daughter anyway, he readily agreed.

How much? asked Howard, without a thought to how long his daughter would be gone.

"Well, I want her to have a full curriculum with at least two languages – I think French and Italian, or maybe German. And, I want her to learn etiquette, and home management along with improving her social skills. We’re probably looking at a two-year program, and the school I’ve chosen is Institut Surval Mont-Fleuri near Montreux, Suisse – the French part."

How much? repeated Howard.

Cynthia said, These places aren’t inexpensive, and this one is spectacular. It’s like a medieval castle high in the mountains. And, of course, she’ll be able to walk right into Harvard, Yale, or wherever we want to send her next. Nothing too good for our little darling she affected. I’ll fly over with her when she matriculates.

Goddamn it. HOW MUCH? Howard was raising his voice now.

About one hundred thousand, replied Cynthia. But she’ll have her own apartment. I’ll see to that, and the food is scrumptious. She’ll learn to make all those wonderful dishes herself.

Hmm, said Howard thoughtfully. I guess that’s reasonable for a two year education of the first order.

No, no Howard, injected Cynthia That’s per year. We’ll be able to go over and visit during breaks, or we can send for her to come home for a few days from time to time.

Jesus, Cynthia. What the hell are you thinking? Howard asked. Do you know what you’re getting us into? There’ll be travel expenses, clothes – and she has your lack of sense for how much money she spends. Other costs, too. It’ll wind up being at least fifty percent higher than that. Why can’t we just put her in a nice private boarding school in New York or Connecticut, or something?

Cynthia looked at Howard with her most stern expression. Howard, it’s going to be Switzerland. Between your income and mine, it’s nothing. This is the least we can do since neither of us spends any time with her anyway.

Shannon loved Montreux. She also loved the little town of Vevey on the shores of the magnificent Lake Geneva. Switzerland was so unbelievably beautiful – just like a fairyland. She learned to ski and to play tennis. She became very skillful at both. It was wonderful. She settled into the school program, developed friendships with several girls, and quickly established herself as one of the brightest young ladies at Surval Mont-Fleuri. She was admired by her classmates and by the staff. Shannon felt validated for the first time since her girlhood affair with Rebecca.

During holiday breaks, she traveled to Italy, France, and