The Achilles Heel (27 page)

Leaning into me, goose bumps spreading all over his shirtless skin, I ran my fingers
up and down his finely crafted chest. He slid my panties down around my ankles and
slowly pulled off my shirt, looking into my eyes, both of us smiling. I’m naked, sitting
on his kitchen countertop and for some reason, this did not feel strange; it felt
good and natural and meant to be. He lowered me down, the cold of the granite giving
my skin a shock, and spread my legs; gently and slowly, building the anticipation
of the first touch of his lips on mine. I let out a moan I’d never heard before, from
some hidden place inside of me that apparently only Kessler unlocks. My ears rang
and temporary blindness set in, along with my first orgasm of the day.

“Jesus, that was amazing! I can’t feel my legs,” I whispered, trying to gather myself,
waiting for the pulsing in my ears to stop.

“I aim to please.” He chuckled.

“I think we burned breakfast.” I laughed as he helped me off the counter. “I obviously
need another shower and I’d love it if you joined me, so I can return the favor.”

I’m falling in love and leaping into a relationship with this sweet, amazing man;
a scary and wonderful feeling, and I don’t want this to end. I loved that he pleasured
me without asking for anything in return. Most men would be shoving their cock in
your face or continually pushing your head down, because it seems like that’s the
universal sign for “suck my dick,” but he was only focused on me which only makes
me want him more.

“I’d love to.” He smirked, and I followed him into the bathroom, his full erection
leading the way.

Even though we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, we were now able to focus on
something other than mauling one another and tried to act like normal people instead
of sex crazed fools, at least for the afternoon.

We went for a walk down the private stretch of beach running behind our houses, his
arm hanging around my shoulder and my hand holding onto his waist, walking and talking.

“I’ve been thinking about all the stuff you’ve shown me, especially the Pelican Case,
and I can’t make heads or tails of it, but I know who could. I think you should let
Hutch take a look at all of this and tell him your story,” Kessler urged. “He’s a
trustworthy man and has a military background which could be of value to us at this
point.”

Us? Don’t let me wake up from this.
I was back to begging God.

“You don’t have to sell me on Hutch. I’ve been thinking the same thing, but I’d feel
better if you were with me. Are you up for all this?” I asked, crossing my fingers
behind my back.

“Me and you, baby.”

KESSLER

A
s we drove down East End Road towards the Soggy Bottom, Annie was uncomfortably silent
and kept wringing her hands together; a side of her I hadn’t seen before. I wanted
to take away the anxiety plaguing her, and tell her that none of this mattered in
our life together because I was going to take care of her, but I knew it mattered
to her and I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries. Boyfriend was a new role to me,
and I didn’t want to blow it with her, so I decided to keep my mouth shut today.

Hutch came out from behind the bar to greet us. “Kessler!” he said, smiling and slapping
my back. “I thought I might see you back here sooner rather than later! And I see
the secret agent is back on the job,” he added, as he gave Annie a hug and took her
hand. “I’m so glad you called me, Annie. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about
our little adventure and to tell you the truth, I’m dying to know what’s inside that
case.”

“Do you have somewhere private we can go?” Annie asked.

“Of course, let’s head upstairs to my office; it’s quiet and we’ll have plenty of
space to spread out,” Hutch offered.

He unlocked the door and led us into a decent sized office with a large rectangular
table situated in the middle of the room; the Grateful Dead played on Pandora in the
background.

I took a seat in the corner chair of the office but Annie waved me over, patting the
chair next to her.

She needs me, and she wants me by her side. Ya done good buddy.

Annie unlocked the Pelican Case and laid out the contents: the key, the picture, the
black notebook with the account number, the two lines of random numbers from the back
of the picture, the passport with a fake name and the fringed flags. Then, she retold
the same story to Hutch that she had already told me.

“Hmm.” Hutch sighed as he stroked his bushy and graying beard; looking through and
then over his bifocals as he scanned the items. “Lay everything out, exactly in the
order you found them,” he instructed Annie.

She rearranged the items and replied, “This is the way they came to me.”

The room was quiet except for the thinking sounds Hutch made, and Ripple playing from
the computer.

“Okay, I’ll start with this,” he said, holding up the key. “This is a safe deposit
box key to St. Croix Banking downtown. The only reason I know this is because of the
SCB stamped on the head of the key, and I also happen to have the same type of key.
I’m assuming the numbers on the back of the picture are the security code and box
number; too short to be more account numbers, but it’s just a logical guess since
they were found together. The passport is professional and looks completely real;
the documents that were used to have this made must have been very authentic. But
this,
this
is what I’m most interested in,” he proclaimed, as he held up the picture from the
café. “What year was this taken?” he asked Annie.

“I didn’t find a date on it, but my guess is sometime in the nineties,” she answered.

“Do you know any of these people?” he asked again.

“Him. This is my late husband, Jack Whitman,” she said, pointing him out in the picture.

“You’re sure you don’t know anyone else?” he echoed.

“I’m sure.”

“Well, I don’t know the rest of these people, but I sure as fuck know this guy!” he
wailed, pointing to the man sitting in the middle. “This is John Savage, the goddamn
head of the CIA, who just so happens to also be the fucking Vice President Elect.”

Hutch was now up and out of his chair, pacing the floor and slapping the picture in
the palm of his hand. “Do you understand what this could mean? This is
not
good; a picture like this can
never
be good,” he mumbled, more to himself than either of us.

We sat in silence, and I stuck to my mouth-shut pledge I’d made earlier, but even
my
heart was racing, so I couldn’t imagine what was going through Annie’s mind.

“Where did you say Jack worked before he died?” Hutch asked, as he wore a ring in
the hardwood floor around the table.

“Whitman Capital Funds in Kansas City,” she replied, the words barely escaping her
mouth, like a kid who just got called on in class to answer aloud.

Hutch leaned over the table, showing us the picture. “Look at this picture. Look in
the background at the other people in the café. Now you tell me, what the hell is
a capital funds manager doing with a guy who was just sworn in as Vice President of
the United States; surrounded by people in a café who all have turbans wrapped around
their heads?”

Annie’s hands started wringing together again, and the color drained from her face.
I steadied her hands in mine; they were cold, but sweating, and I thought she might
vomit. I rubbed her back to try to calm her down.

God, I’m a fucking asshole. Why did I have to lie to her about who I am? Apparently,
I’m just the next guy on the list who’s lied about their identity to Annie. I’ve got
to show her I’ll never make that mistake again.

“Are you okay?” I whispered in her ear.

“I don’t know what I am, but I’m definitely not okay,” she cried, as she rested her
face in her hands.

“Honey, this picture could turn out to be insignificant, but when you dig a case out
of the ocean, I wouldn’t think it’d turn out that way. I don’t want to scare you anymore
than I already have, but have you noticed anyone following you? Anyone hanging around
your house or driving by too often?” he asked.

“No. I mean, I don’t know! I haven’t been paying attention to something like that,
so I have no idea. Really, the only places I’ve been are here at the Soggy Bottom
and at the Cotton House. The only time I’ve ventured out is one night for dinner with
my friends and scuba diving under the pier with you. I just didn’t think to be paying
attention!” she vented, as her words turned into tear-soaked mumbling.

I scooted my chair closer to her and pulled her shaking body against my chest. Desperate
to take her pain away, but knowing that was impossible, I was damn sure going to keep
her safe.

“What about your brother-in-law?” he asked her. “Do you think he knows about the Pelican
Case or this treasure hunt you’re on? Could he be on the island?”

“Jamie? I don’t know. He hasn’t contacted me or anything like that; I haven’t seen
him. How am I supposed to know if he’s here?”

Annie was really freaking out now and I just tried to help her keep it together.

“Let me give you two a minute,” Hutch said, heading for the door.

“No, you don’t need to leave. I’m no stranger to crying, it happens a lot. I’m sorry,
honey, but it does. I’m a crier, and you should know that about me,” she said, turning
her wet brown eyes at me and cracking the tiniest smile.

“Okay, baby, you cry. I got it,” I said, feeling hopeful since she was able to make
a little joke about herself.

“Listen, maybe you all have had enough excitement for one afternoon, so let’s just
leave things where they are for now. Kessler, you keep her close, just in case. Annie,
call Liz and do some fishing about Jamie, but keep it casual; ask about the kids or
something. When you’re ready, find out what’s waiting for you at the bank,” Hutch
coached.

Annie hugged Hutch hard, like you would your brother and said, “Thank you so much.
I really don’t have the right words to express my gratitude for everything you have
done for me, but I hope to someday repay you.”

“Well, don’t go thanking me yet. Just be more cautious and keep an eye out for each
other. Let me know if anything else unfolds,” he said.

We packed up the case and slid it into a backpack that Hutch loaned us and headed
back home.

As I was about to pull into my driveway, Annie said, “Take me over to my house. I
want to get something. I’ll just be a second.”

When she jumped back into the Jeep, she held up a carton of cigarettes. “I’m always
smoking or quitting, and right now, I’m smoking. You should also know that about me.”

ANNIE

I
sat on Kessler’s deck and watched the multi-colored sun burn out into the ocean,
listening to him play his guitar from somewhere downstairs. His kindness and quiet
attention to my well-being showed his nurturing side, which I found to be a rare but
attractive quality in a man. I told him I needed to be alone for a while, and he understood;
at least I think he did.

How did this happen? Was I really so oblivious to my own life, my own husband, that
I never really knew him? All those work trips he took, was he really in the town he
said or was everything out of his mouth a lie? Did he ever truly love me, or was I
just sufficient to keep him company while at home? Was Kansas City even where he called
home? He could have a whole other family out there, kids out there, wondering, “Where
the fuck is my dad?” This is such bullshit. Yes, he left me money; a lot of money,
but fuck the money. I don’t care about the money. I care about the truth. I gave Jack
ten years of unshattering devotion and I don’t deserve this; not one damn bit of it.

The scenarios ran wild, and I needed to rein in my mind, or I would never get to sleep
tonight. I tried to nail down any truthful facts I had starting from the moment I
met Jack; at this point, they all seem to be tangible items. I couldn’t trust any
memory or conversation I ever had with him because I was second guessing all of them.
At this moment, the only absolute to be sure of was downstairs playing his guitar.
My solitude had given me some clarity and I made the decision to end this crazy goose
chase. I’d go to the bank to see if there was anything in the safe deposit box, then
truly let go of the past and bury my memories with Jack to make room for the new ones
I was hoping to make with Kessler. No more boxes, no more keys.

I finished sulking, followed the music downstairs and watched Kessler play from a
hidden corner. He sat in an oversized rocking chair, surrounded by guitars and singing
softly, but stopping to jot things down in a notebook. After listening for awhile,
just letting his voice take me away, he finally noticed me.

“Hey, baby,” he said with his sexy, signature grin. “Get on over here.” He motioned
to me as he put his guitar in its stand and patted his lap.

“You sound so good, honey. Whatcha working on?” I asked, as I put my arms around him
and pulled my legs in tight, snuggling up close.

“I don’t know yet, but you’ll be the first to hear it when it’s ready. How are you
feeling?” he asked, as he softly leaned his head against mine.

“Surprisingly, I’m all right. I believe I have a plan, but can I fill you in tomorrow?
I’m tired of thinking tonight. Right now, I want you to play me a love song and get
me all hot over you.” I giggled.

“Love songs, huh? Okay, let me see. I’ve got one…”

He played the first few riffs of AC/DC’s song “TNT,” singing, “Oi, Oi, Oi;” just to
mess with me.

“That’s so mean! I should have never told you I peed my pants at that concert!” I
laughed, slapping his arm. “Come on, give me something good; woo me!”

He sang something sweet yet unfamiliar, but it didn’t matter because through the words
of the song, I heard truth and unquestionable love. My eyes became wild and my body
more alive by the time he started on the second chorus, and before he could finish,
I was back in his lap, my lips sealed against his, ready for him to take me upstairs.