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Subject: {ASSM} The Lady in Blue Chapter 13 (MF, MFF, Slow, Romantic, Exhibitionism, Petting, Oral)
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An Erotic Vineyard Mystery serial. Starts slowly, but the passion
builds as the plot unfolds with romance. A Texas vintner meets a lady
in blue at a private club. Sparks fly and tensions build as they tease
each other, or as his brother would call it, doing the "Do Me" dance.
Then tragedy strikes close and as they explore their relationship, they
also find something new as a sexy cop becomes part of the dance. Has a
real plot and three dimensional characters. It's more than just a
wanker.

Read this story on several sites and vote on each for me. Voting for my
stories encourages me to write more. Remember to vote for each chapter
on Literotica and on the last chapter on Storiesonline.

http://storiesonline.net/auth/Wine_Maker

http://english.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=560253&page=submissions

"The Lady in Blue"

An ongoing saga, (c) 2005 by Wine Maker

Chapter Thirteen: Soaring free.

Note: Takes place at the same time as chapter eleven.

Hawk's point of view

I slipped my cell into my jacket and revved my hog. With a roar, I shot
out of my garage and onto the street in front of my house. Ted and Lisa
could find their own way out of the neighborhood, I decided, and I took
to the street fast.

There was no sign of anyone following me, so I traveled the main
streets into downtown. Police headquarters was busy, as usual. That
might actually work in my favor today. I really didn't want to run into
Captain Jordan. I was already on his shit list and he would have no
qualms about giving me the third degree.

I waved to various people I knew as I threaded my way to my desk. My
old wooden chair creaked as I sat and the metal spring squealed in
protest at my weight. I smiled at the difference between Lisa's desk
and mine. No clutter here. All the papers were in neat stacks or the
in/out boxes. There were no photos, either. I preferred being in the
field. I logged into the system and ran a query on Kotov. I was
surprised to see more than one Kotov in the system.

A few keystrokes and I had all three in summary format. There was
Viktor and his two sons, Alexi and Uri. I clicked print on all three
and shut down my system. Time to scram before trouble found me.

The place was too cheap to have anything but a shared printer so I had
to hope someone wasn't printing a novel. When I saw my pages printing
right out, I smiled. The gods were favoring me. I snatched them up,
folded them, and slid them in my pocket. A glance at the Captain's door
showed it was still closed. Perfect.

My sense of euphoria lasted all the way to the edge of Detective's Row.
I walked around the corner and almost ran into Jordan. The short,
balding, pudgy man did things to a suit that likely made more women
into lesbians than the rest of humanity all rolled together. His
already unfriendly face frowned even more than normal.

"Hawkins, I thought I told you that you were on leave until further
notice. Was I less than clear? What are you doing here?" He said in a
voice that reminded me of a bad English butler without the accent. His
arrogance just bled right through.

"Sorry, Chief, I was getting some personal effects from my desk. I'm
going home now. It's been a long day and I need to rest up, anyway."
I said in as neutral a voice as I could manage.

"I've told you before not to call me Chief. Really, Hawkins, are
simple instructions beyond you? I imagine that you'll be needing that
sleep." He said with an unconscious sneer.

I've met a number of deeply religious men, most of whom were not fond
of my sexual orientation. They, unlike Robert Jordan, could be polite
and hate the sin without hating the sinner.

Putting my hands on my hips, I nodded. "I certainly will, Captain. A
night of drunken debauchery and making love to more women than you can
count takes dedication. There is a special orgy scheduled in my honor
at the Lesbian's Local 69 Union Hall."

"Your attitude reeks, Hawkins. I don't think you are bright enough to
know when you've been beaten. That little tirade you had on the phone
sealed your fate. You're done. With all the other disciplinary actions
in your jacket, I've decided to fire you. You have brought enough
disrepute on this department, and I'll be more than glad to see you
gone. Come to my office and turn in your badge and weapon."

I grinned and stepped into his personal space, quietly addressing him.
"You talk a lot of shit, Captain Jordan, but since it's just me and
you, let's cut the crap. You hate my kind. You know, the homosexuals,
don't you? It's not my attitude you hate. It's the fact I get more
pussy than you ever will, isn't it?"

He reached up and pushed me back. I stumbled in surprise. "Stay away
from me, you freak!" he hissed. "Don't you dare get in my face."
I don't know why that enraged him like that, but he was out of control.
I could hear the room quiet behind me. He was still around the corner
and seemed not to notice. A low voice that would be lost in the normal
rumble of multiple conversations now could be heard by the entire
homicide department.

"All you should be run out of the police department. Your kind will
burn in Hell. Homosexuality is a sin against God and you'll burn. I've
been looking for a way to be rid of you since the day I took charge of
this division. Kruger was a weak-minded fool to allow you to pollute
this place and I will earn credit in Heaven by correcting his mistake.
Not even counting your unnatural cravings, a woman has no place in
homicide anyway." He held out his hand. "Your badge and gun. You're
fired. Come on, give them over."

Slowly, burning with anger, I pulled out my badge and pistol. I
unloaded my weapon, but rather than handing them over, I stepped back
and held them out, making him come to me. He was like a fish, seeing
only the bait. With a hungry smile, he stepped out of the hall and took
them.

I looked over the room and most of the detectives were staring at us
with expressions ranging from shock, anger and satisfaction. I made
mental note of the various people here. Some of them would talk about
it later, I hoped. Then I smiled sweetly at my former boss.

"Jordan, I'm actually glad you fired me. This place has been a
cesspool under you and I know Assistant Chief Kruger will be interested
in what you think about him, even if he is only working with the DA
now. Oh, and I'm sure everyone out there has found your views on
homosexuality and women in general to be fascinating, too."

Jordan looked like he was waking up from a dream. He turned and stared
at the room in surprise, as though he hadn't even known they were
there.

"I'll get someone to escort me out, since I'm a lowly civilian
lesbian now. Detective Saunders, will you join me?" I heard the mix
of bitterness and triumph in my tone. I was both devastated at the loss
of my badge and exhilarated at the public exposure of my tormentor. I
would hurt later. For now, I still had work to do. This case was not
going to be wrapped up by someone else. I *would* finish it.

The petite brunette stood up and walked past the open-mouthed Jordan
with a withering glance. "Sure, Hawk. I need to get out of here and
get some fresh air anyway." We left Jordan standing there, his mouth
working like a beached fish. Once we were inside the elevator, she
turned to me, angry. We had never been friends but I had never been her
enemy either. "What the fuck was he thinking? He's nuts! Are you
gonna fight this?"

I pressed the second floor button. "I don't know what I'm going to
do, yet. I'm going to torpedo that jerk, at the very least. Come on."
On the second floor, I led her to Internal Affairs. The detective at
the front desk frowned sourly as I came in. It was the same bozo that
had handled my last suspension. What was his name? Oh, yeah, Lazlo.

"Morning, Lazlo." I said brightly.

"Detective Hawkins, what now? Did you punch out the Mayor?" he
asked tiredly.

I pulled out the chair and sat down. Saunders sat down next to me.
"No," I said. "I was fired and I'm here to file a harassment
complaint against Jordan before Saunders throws me out of the
building."

His face lit up in surprise and he pulled out a report pad. In all my
years of trouble, I had never filed a complaint against anyone. That
must have made him reevaluate the situation.

"Tell me what happened." He said in a newly professional voice.

I related the encounter in as much detail as I could recall. With his
questions, I added details.

"Can anyone corroborate your story?" he finally asked.

I looked at Saunders to see how she jumped.

Saunders looked at me and then at Lazlo. Slowly she nodded. "Yeah, me
and everyone else in homicide. Jordan wasn't very discreet." She
rounded on me. "I don't like you, Hawk," she said almost defiantly,
"but I can't let that pass." She returned her attention to Lazlo.
"I saw him shove her, too. At least, I saw someone shove her and then
Jordan stepped into view."

I let my breath out slowly. I hadn't been sure she would back me up.
Then I named off a dozen other detectives that had seen it happen.

"I'll head up there and get statements as soon as we're done here,
Hawkins. Your rep won't let this stand. I can't believe he was so
stupid as to say that in front of so many witnesses." Lazlo said
while I signed my statement. He tore off a copy and handed it to me.

"Jordan was in the hall at first and didn't realize everyone could
hear him," I said tiredly. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I
guess I'll let the rep start screaming and let you investigate someone
other than me to start with. That should be a real change of pace for
you, eh?" I forced myself to grin at him.

He held out a hand. "I can't say I've ever been a fan of yours, but
I'm sorry to see you go like this. You've always been a bit rough
around the edges, but you got results. I'll handle this and be in
contact with you. I suggest you call a good lawyer and your rep."

I shook his hand and stood up. "Time for you to toss me out on my
ear, Saunders." She walked out with me and I stopped in the parking
lot.

Saunders fought with herself for a moment and then stuck her hand out.
"If you need something, call me. We remember our own."

That surprised me. I smiled warmly and shook her hand. "Thank you and
say goodbye to everyone else for me. Don't let that bastard beat you
down."

She watched me as I started my bike and drove out of the police parking
lot for what may be the last time. I didn't look back.

I was filled with a mixture of anger and satisfaction; despair and
exhilaration. Jordan had hung himself and I could get my job back, if I
wanted it. I guess I shouldn't be so fast to decide to turn my back but
that was my immediate impulse. I needed to think and make some calls.
One to Kruger, for certain. I also needed something to perk me up.
Starbucks coffee.

Pulling into the parking lot like a one woman motorcycle gang, I
powered into the motorcycle parking area and stomped into the shop.
"Give me a massive espresso, Dave. I need a major hit."

"Coming right up, Hawk," he called from behind the counter as I
took a seat. Business first, I pulled my cell and dialed the rep.
"Wally, Hawk. I have a little problem."

"Who did you hit," he asked tiredly.

"Wally, Wally, Wally, you disappoint me. I didn't hit anyone. I was
sexually harassed." I heard his chair as it thumped back onto the
floor on all four legs."

"What?!?" he barked. "You're shitting me! Who had the balls to
harass you and what hospital are they in?"

"Nope, no kidding. Jordan did it in front of a dozen witnesses and
then fired me. I didn't even break anything." When I calmed him
down, I gave him all the details and told him I would fax him a copy of
the Internal Affairs complaint. By the time I had hung up, my coffee
was ready.

Kruger wasn't in his office, so I left a message for him. I hoped he
went down there and tied that little creep into a pretzel.

Sipping the hot brew, I pondered this moment. I had seen something like
it coming for months. Jordan had a reputation and friends in high
places. Even with witnesses, it would be tough going. Then I shrugged.
Screw it. I'd have to head back home before I did anything else and get
my concealed carry permit and backup pistol. That and get my Private
Investigator's license. Thank God I'd kept it current. No way I was
going around unarmed right now.

First, time to read through the police reports on the family Kotov. I
pulled the folded papers out of my jacket and read through them slowly.
Daddy Kotov spent a less than impressive five years in prison for human
smuggling. Charges dropped on various other counts with no reason
listed. Why the hell couldn't someone behind bars actually get the time
they deserved? No indication of recent criminal activity. Yeah, right.

The sons were more interesting, in a way. Suspected of being involved
with drug trafficking and other crimes on a lower level. Not enough to
charge them, but persons of interest. Well, I wasn't really interested
in them right now, anyway. Daddy Kotov was listed as still running an
import/export business, so I now had a place to start in on him.

With a wave to Dave, I threw away my empty cup and slid the papers back
into my jacket. On the way out the door, I spotted a car across the
street with a man in it, slumped down. I didn't look at it directly,
but it might be a tail. I kicked the hog over and turned right onto the
street. My eyes took in the car as I passed it and my suspicions were
confirmed. That moron, Digger, had picked me up somehow.

Well, that was good, in a way. It meant I didn't need to worry about
other tails on the way to my place. I'd have a police escort. Till I
lost him, anyway. I saw the car turn out and around to follow me.
Amateur.

I drove slow and easy so he wouldn't lose me on the way home. Hitting
the garage door opener, I drove in and closed it behind me. After
shutting the bike down, I went in and turned off the alarm. A quick jog
to the bedroom and I had my spare nine into a shoulder holster and my
jacket back on. I pocketed the carry permit and my license.

He would be waiting for me outside. I suppose he must have picked me up
here at my house. At least he was following me and not Ted and Lisa. I
could give him a real twist in the streets and lose him pretty quick.

I reset the alarm and started up my bike. Revving it hard, I opened the
garage door I shot out and turned left. Another press of the button
started the door closing but I wasn't waiting for it to finish.

In my rearview mirror, I could see Digger starting to give chase, but
he was late off the mark and a few blocks behind before he could get up
to speed. Too bad I knew this neighborhood better than he did and my
bike could beat the hell out of his car. I lost him in less than a
minute, laughing into the wind.

I hit an alternate route back into downtown, so that Digger wouldn't
pick me up by accident. The older buildings in their grey stone gave
way to the newer steel and glass ones that dominated the skyline.

Cutting off an office drone, I slid into a newly vacated parking space.
We saluted each other with one finger each as he drove off. It was an
almost friendly gesture. Sometimes this city could be strange.

After consulting the building directory, I took the elevator to the
twenty-second floor and found the offices of Kotov Imports and Exports.
I should probably be more discreet, but time was not in good supply. I
wanted to get this wrapped up before Lisa or Ted joined Calvin.

The outer office was plush and bright. The receptionist was the same; a
bottle blonde with more breasts than brains. She smiled vapidly at me.
"Do you have an appointment?" the woman asked with a thick accent.
Russian, maybe?

"I'm here to talk with Viktor. Tell him it's about a police
matter." It certainly was, even if I wasn't a cop.

The secretary's smile didn't fade, but her brow crinkled. "Do you
have an appointment?"

I cocked my head to the side and leaned over the desk to get closer to
her. "You don't have the least idea what I'm saying, do you?" I
asked.

She nodded brightly. "Do you have..."

I cut her off and nodded. "Yes, I have an appointment."

She stood up and swished her way to the inner door and knocked. A
muffled voice queried her before she opened the door.

Viktor Kotov's arrest photos didn't do him justice. He was much
smoother looking in person. His thin frame looked like there might be
some muscle under that shirt. The touch of grey along his dark hair
added an air of distinction to him. He spoke with the woman briefly in
what sounded like Russian, then he waved me in.

"Come in. Sit, sit," he said with almost no accent. "You have an
appointment, you say? Vodka? I don't remember an appointment and I am
sure I would remember a woman like you." He poured two shot glasses
with vodka while he smiled and talked. I took mine and raised it to
him.

"No, but I couldn't get my point past your well developed
countrywoman, Viktor."

Viktor laughed. "She takes calls from Russia and has only been here a
few months. We don't get many visitors here." He raised his glass
to me. "To long life," he said and tossed it back. I followed suit.
It was smooth. He sat down on the edge of his desk. "You have more
soul than most Americans. Tell me who you are and what I can do for
you."

I set the empty glass down and smiled at him. "The name's Hawk.
I'm investigating a murder and your name came up."

Most people would be bothered by being connected with a murder, but he
seemed amused. "I've killed no one. I have no need to kill
people." He grinned. "Besides, you police have already been here to
question me. Don't you talk to each other?"

The flash of anger inside me wasn't really directed at him but I
growled anyway. "No, we just come around and ask you again. Why
should I believe you had nothing to do with the murder?"

Viktor slid into his seat and propped his feet on the desk, lighting up
a cigarette. The smoke was pungent and he blew it right at me.

"I was at home, alone. Not very helpful, eh?"

"Not really," I grunted. "Going from human smuggling to murder
doesn't seem like too big a jump for me."

He laughed. "You don't back down. I like that. I tell you what,
Hawk, I will tell you something I didn't tell your rude, ignorant
friend." The smile vanished from his face and his eyes sparkled. "I
want you to find who killed Samson as much as you do."

That wasn't what I had expected but I kept it off my face. "Why is
that, Viktor? He put you away for years. I'd think you'd want to
see him go down."

"Because he helped me testify for the Federals. I was able to still
be with my children while they were young. Without him, I would still
be looking at many years in prison."

I leaned back in the chair. "That wasn't in his file on you.
Why?"

He shrugged. "We can ask him when we meet him again. All I can tell
you is that I owe him. The other man didn't seem to care. He wanted
to berate and harass, but you have fire in you. He wouldn't drink
with me, so I told him nothing. You have soul, Hawk."

I shook my head. "I'm not a cop anymore."

"I know," he said agreeably.

My head snapped up. "You what?"

"I heard about it. I saw your picture after I read about the bombing,
so I found your name and asked questions."  He smiled at my surprise.
"I've been using people to get information, Detective Hawkins. They
told me what happened to you. That's unfortunate, but I'm glad to
see you are still looking. I hear that your explosives people have
reached some conclusions." He grinned at me. "I don't think that
*buffoon* will have the intelligence to use it."

"Did he tell his name was Digger?" I asked, already certain what
the answer would be. I nodded in response to his affirmative answer.
His opinion was the same as mine.

I'd have to eliminate Kotov the hard way or find another lead. I
stood up and walked toward the door. "I better not find out you lied
to me or we're going to have a real problem, Viktor. If you hear
anything, call me. My cell is in the book under Shauna Hawkins."

He smiled a shark-like smile. "I will. If you need help from some
sturdy people without too many questions, call me. I have many friends
who owe me favors." He raised his empty glass. "Good hunting."

The woman smiled at me as I left. "Dos Vedanya," she called out
cheerfully.

"Don't take any wooden nickels," I called back.

The elevator ride let me get my thoughts back into order and make a
plan of action. I stopped in the lobby, looked up a number on my cell
and dialed. When it picked up, I smiled.

"I figured it wouldn't be too long before you called me," Frank
said with a chuckle. "You only call when you want something or you
want to get rid of something that goes boom."

"That's right, Frank. I'm a needy bitch. You hear about Jordan
yet?"

"Who hasn't?" he spat. "That jackass. You're the top homicide
cop in the city and he wants to dump you. With a crowd, too. Word's
everywhere. Kruger has been in his office for an hour, I hear. Lots of
shouting and arm waving. Internal Affairs is sniffing around, too. Man,
you like to stir up a hornets nest, don't you? I haven't had this
much fun since the hogs ate Uncle George."

"What did you get out of the bomb?" I asked, my heart beating
faster at the mention of Kruger. I wasn't going to talk about it,
though. If he reversed my firing, I'd get a call. Hell, I'd get a
call from him soon either way.

"It's against department policy to give information on an ongoing
investigation to civilians," he said piously.

I shook my head and sighed. "What'll it cost me?"

"Bribery, too?" he asked, shocked. "It's good I'm not in my
office where other law-abiding cops hang out."

"Come on, you damned thief. What'll it take to pry it loose?" I
asked with a smile. "You have your price. A bottle of scotch?"

"Dinner. Dinner, and you tell me all the juicy details."

"Done," I agreed. "Give."

"The bomb was made out of common components but the trigger was
special," Frank said. "The circuit board had a part number on it
that linked it to a commercial remote detonator used in construction
and demolition. One that isn't available to the general public."
The sound of satisfaction filtered into his voice. "One that is
tracked by the State. Every company that uses them has to account for
every single one and there's not many of them. It's a new model. I
can text the names and numbers to you."

"How about the results of the canvas? You must have called them
already." I asked, a bit annoyed. Why the raw information when he
could give me the details?

"The Ranger insisted that we send him the information and he'd
follow up. We were told to hand it over and step back." Frank sounded
disgusted.

I was flabbergasted. "Is he crazy or stupid?" I demanded.

"Yes," Frank said bluntly.

Shaking my head, I just accepted that Digger really was as stupid as I
thought. Why not use the local resources? "Text me and we'll do
dinner as soon as this is done. And, Frank?"

"Yeah, Killer?"

My voice softened. "Thanks."

"It's us versus them, Kid. Chin up, and call me if you need
anything."

My step was bouncy as I exited the building. I'd get through this.
This was a huge break. I slid on the bike and brought it to life. While
I warmed it up, I put my helmet on and considered calling Lisa. I
decided to wait until I had more information.

When I got on the street, I automatically scanned for tails and damned
if I didn't spot Digger back there. That was simply not possible.
I'd lost him and there was no way he picked me up so damned easy! He
didn't even *know* about Kotov. My eyes narrowed. That *bastard*!

I took the corner at a roar and began weaving through traffic to blasts
of horns and shouts of outrage. I grinned and enjoyed it. Let the
asshole follow me through that. I needed a few minutes without him and
I'd know one way or the other if I was right.

Turning onto Main Street, I cut under the Interstate and into the
McDonald's parking lot. I yanked off my helmet angrily. "If that
chicken-shit bastard did what I think he did, I will get *so* even!"
I muttered to myself as I started looking closely at my bike.

It took less than a minute and I had it in my hand. A tracer with
adhesive on it stuck under my seat. That had to have been planted at my
house before I picked it up. The fucker had broken into my garage and
planted an illegal tracker! There was no way he had a warrant for this!
What a cheese-eating asshole.

I started cussing and kicked a rock into the side of the building. The
two older bikers with the Hell's Angels jackets in the drive-through
just grinned at each other. I opened my mouth to tell them where to
stuff it when it came to me that I had an opportunity.

Jogging over to them, I grinned. "Hey, boys. You got a cig for a
girl?"

The one closest to me nodded and started digging his pack out. "Sure.
Nice bike. We don't see many chicks with a big hog like that. You
taken? If not, I'll marry you."

I leaned over and planted the tracer on the license plate and let him
have a nice look at my tits, laughing. "Yeah, I have this mean
bastard that keeps me on a leash. You from around here?"

He passed over a cigarette and lit me up. Damned things. I puffed it
and smiled through the smoke. I'd to learn to smoke for undercover
work.

"Naw. We're from Hempstead. We just came in to drop off a pal at
the bus station." He gestured to the Greyhound station right across
the street. "You wanna ride back out with us?"

I shook my head. "I'd love to but my old man would freak. You boys
have fun, but keep an eye out. I hear the cops are following bikers
this week, looking for drugs."

"Thanks, Sister," the other man said. "We'll keep an eye out
and ditch any that try. If your old man gets too tough, you come look
us up."

I slid between them and gave each a kiss on the cheek. "I'll do
that. Ride safe."

They pulled up and ordered while I jogged back to my bike, laughing to
myself. With any luck, Digger would be a while figuring out what I just
did to him. Life was sometimes cool.

In a few minutes, I was gliding through the back streets, just so I
didn't run into Digger. I felt my phone buzz and pulled over to take
a look. It was the list. Less than a dozen companies and their numbers
right there. Frank was going to get a big ol' steak.

I pulled off my helmet and sat on the side of the street to start
calling them. I knew one of them would have an unaccounted detonator,
probably already reported to the police. At least, if I was lucky.

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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