Jason Deas - Benny James 02 - Pushed (2 page)

“OK. OK.” Dirk clunked down the front porch stairs in his gaudy boots and shook Benny’s hand. “I got something else for ya buddy.”

“Let me tell you what I’m looking for. I want something that my knees will fit behind. I want something that will not be remembered.”

“I got just the thing,” Dirk said. He ran behind the building, his boots kicking up more dust.

After a minute, he ran back. “What do you mean by not remembered?”

Benny’s anger tank filled to irate. “How the hell did you get a contract to rent cars with my hotel?”

“My cousin sometimes works the front desk,” Dirk answered, drawing up to his full height. “Sometimes they need a Spanish speaker. He must have answered the day you called.”

“I see.” Benny sighed and shook his head. “So, what do you have back there, amigo?”

A few minutes later, Benny pulled out of the lot hooting and laughing, driving a black Smokey and the Bandit Trans Am. The car had a bumper sticker that read, “Black is Beautiful.” People might remember this. Benny didn’t care. This was fulfilling a dream. Hot damn!

Benny put down some serious rubber as he left the lot, not caring what Dirk thought. But, when he looked in the rear view mirror, Dirk had his hands in the air with two thumbs up.

Benny drove to the vicinity of the Royal Park Bridge and parked the Trans Am. Locking the car, he dropped his shades over his eyes and scanned his surroundings. West Palm Beach had so much money, the air smelled green. Founded by American tycoon Henry Flagler, a railroad developer and one of Rockefeller’s partners in Standard Oil, the place still had bucks. Benny patted his pocket, feeling his thin wallet, and tucked the keys into his front right pocket as he began to walk.

Finding the bike-pedestrian trail that wound its way under a bridge, Benny tried to feel and think like a person who was there to kill a young girl. Eyeing the bridge, which wasn’t very high, Benny immediately knew the girl didn’t die from the impact of a high fall. The cause of death had not been released yet by the medical examiner. The Royal Park Bridge was a draw bridge. He examined the bridge-tender’s tower, wondering if it was occupied twenty-four hours a day.

If so, he wondered why he hadn’t heard what the operator might or might not have seen. The case was new and things were happening fast. Benny hadn’t been able to get his hands on any written reports. Also, being hired by the Reverend Jim, and not in an official role, made information hard to acquire.
I need
to make some new friends,
he realized.

As he walked under the bridge, Benny marveled at the shadows and the way light passed through the concrete openings to flicker and bounce across the water’s surface. He wondered how well lit the area was at night. Emerging to the other side, the downtown cityscape filled his vision.

Benny spotted the Breakers Hotel on the Palm Beach side.
What a classy joint. I remember Room 512 and my rendezvous with Lizzy Clark.

Once upon a time, Benny was king of the FBI. If you needed a case solved, you called Benny James. Benny was the man. The answer. Case closed. Lizzy Clark was his downfall. Benny worked a case where it just so happened, he had a romantic relationship with its murderer.

The year was 1982. Benny had solved three “unsolvable” cases in a row for the FBI. He was moving up faster than any other agent in history and seemed completely immune from office politics. Benny was the director’s wet dream. Then came Lizzy.

Lizzy’s father, before his untimely death was the dean of a prominent university. Unfortunately, a letter opener found its way into his heart. He died at his desk in an unsightly pool of blood. After the local police stumbled, fumbled, and bumbled with the case, they finally requested help from the FBI.

The media hounds applied so much heat and coverage that the locals could not take another minute of the scrutiny. Television stations across the country covered the case like a soap opera and households across the United States and other countries tuned in each night for their fix.

The FBI gave the case to its wonder boy, Benny James and thought it was a done deal. Benny, when handing out assignments in the case, assigned himself to the dean’s daughter, Lizzy. The assignment he gave himself began as an innocent decision. He assumed she would have the most information about her father. Her mother was dead and the dean supposedly did not have many close friends. The dean was a man devoted to his work and his daughter.

Benny questioned her for hours and hours on several different days. Each day, unbeknownst to Benny, Lizzy wore a little less clothing and got a little flirtier. Benny had plenty of experience with girls coming on to him. He was not much of a womanizer, but more of a magnet for the opposite sex. He had that
it
quality.

People sensed he was special and wanted to be a part of his world. Benny had chameleon eyes and fantastic black hair that curled if grown past a certain point. His swagger and the way he held himself did it for most women. If that didn’t ice the cake, the deep voice and tight little butt smoothed it over.

On the infamous afternoon, Benny had thought of a few more questions he needed to ask Lizzy, and dialed her beeper. When she called him back, Lizzy informed him she was getting a massage at the Breakers and had a room for the night. She said she did not want to be at home without her daddy—it had just been one of those days. Benny sympathized and promised to meet her in the room at the Breakers after the massage.

When Benny arrived, the valet parking attendant’s eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw the tricked out Gran Torino pulling into the lot. Benny had always loved unique cars. At a five star hotel, the parking attendant was used to driving all types of expensive cars, including Ferraris and Lamborghinis. Benny could tell by the look on the young man’s face that this parking job was going to be a special treat.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the parking attendant said through the open car window.

Benny decided to mess around with the guy a bit and have a little fun. Still in the car, he lowered his sunglasses slowly and eyed him up and down. “How’s it hanging, Ace?” Benny drawled.

“Fine, sir. How are you this afternoon?” 

“Couldn’t be better. Look here now,” Benny said popping up from the car. “I just checked the odometer and know how many miles my girl has on her.” Benny watched with amusement as the attendant’s face tightened. “I don’t mind if you take her for a little spin, but don’t put more than twenty miles on her.”

The attendant tried to speak and Benny cut him off. “She’s pretty good around a hundred. Shakes a bit at around one ten, and is smooth as a baby’s ass from there to one forty.”

“Oh, no sir,” the attendant was finally able to say. “We are under no circumstances allowed to take the guests’ cars out of the hotel lot.”

“Make an exception,” Benny advised. “She’ll change your life.”

Benny walked away, unaware that it was
his
life that was about to be changed forever.

Inside the hotel, Benny took a moment to absorb the stunning beauty of the lobby. Feeling as if he was visiting a king, or in this case a princess, he made his way to the front desk.

Before he had a chance to speak, a handsomely dressed man greeted him.  “Good afternoon Mr. James, we have been expecting you.”

Benny realized the man must have seen him on television in one of his many interviews. He reached his hand across the counter and shook the man’s hand. “Beautiful place here. What’s your name?”

“Charles.”

Benny could tell by Charles’ reaction that not too many guests had shaken his hand in such a friendly manner across the counter.

“Miss Clark left a key for you.” Charles handed over the key. “She also left a note.” Charles handed him the piece of paper. “May I help you in any other way, Mr. James?”

“I think I’m good,” Benny smiled. “Thanks for your help.”

“My pleasure, sir.”

The note from Lizzy was filled with many clues Benny missed. He hardly ever missed a clue and rarely was he blindsided, but Lizzy snowed him over good. The first clue he should have picked up on was the perfume. Who sprays perfume on a note? Benny chalked up the heavenly smell to accidental touching and the proximity of the paper to her body.

The second clue he missed was the heart she used to dot the “i” in her name on the signature. The third clue he missed was what the note said.

To boil it down, it basically said: Here is a key to my luxurious, hidden away from the world room. Have a drink, make yourself comfortable, and wait for my oiled and relaxed body.

Sucker.

Benny unlocked the door and entered the room. It was magnificent. He had been in some nice hotel rooms, but this room by far took home the prize as the classiest. Taking two steps inside, Benny heard the shower and froze. On a table beside a Jack and Coke sat a note informing him she had finished her massage earlier than expected, and would be out in just a moment.

Benny didn’t remember telling Lizzy his favorite adult beverage was whiskey and Coke. Little did he know, he
had
mentioned it on one occasion and she remembered. Unfortunately, Benny had no idea of her cunning nature.

Other than the beverage and the letter, it didn’t look as though the room had been inhabited by anyone. Under his chair, on the floor, lay the only other item in the room that did not belong—a pair of pink panties. They almost blended in with the deep pinks in the carpet pattern and Benny decided this was the reason he did not see them previously.

He didn’t want to step on them, so he delicately picked them up by a corner and tossed them a little to the other side of the table. When he did, the perfume smell that had so enticed him before sent a jolt straight through his nose, took a right turn, dashed through his heart, and zigzagged its way to his midsection. From there it went straight to his brain and bounced around like a pinball machine gone mad.

Not thinking or remembering that Federal agents were not supposed to drink on the clock in most situations, Benny picked up the drink and downed half of it in one slug. The shower was turned off, and he finished the drink with another belt. As if she had somehow been watching and timing all of this perfectly, someone knocked at the door.

Benny answered and stood aside as room service pushed a silver cart into the room with a fresh Jack and Coke on the rocks for Benny, a gin and tonic for Lizzy, and two brand new bottles of each accompanied by a very classy container of ice. Benny tried to tip the waitress and she informed him that Miss Clark had already taken care of the bill and the tip.

As soon as the door closed, Lizzy called Benny from behind the bathroom door.

“Benny?”

“Yes.” He looked at the cart with interest.

“I’ll be just a minute. Have another drink and relax. You deserve it.”

If Benny had his wits about him he would have questioned why she was inviting him to have
another
drink when she supposedly could not possibly know he had finished the first one, since she was behind the bathroom door. He didn’t catch this clue either.

Two sips into the new drink, Lizzy’s syrupy voice once again came from behind the bathroom door. “Benny?”

“Yes.”

“I really hate to ask you this, but I must have dropped my panties when I was laying out my clothes. Do you see them anywhere?”

“Uh… Uh…” Benny pretended to look around.

“Found them,” he announced.

Lizzy pulled the bathroom door open a little wider than necessary as Benny handed her the panties. She was wrapped in a towel that might have been as big as the one used for the floor so you won’t slip. Again, if Benny had brought his A game, he would have noticed that Lizzy’s hair was not a bit wet and he had not heard a hair dryer.

A few moments later, Lizzy emerged from the bathroom in a thin white summer dress. Benny could see the pink panties through the dress and she caught him looking. He could have sworn she did not have on a bra but was afraid to look twice to check himself.

“Sorry about my outfit mismatch,” she apologized. “I was in such a rush to get out of the house this morning I didn’t think about the faux pas of pink under white.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Benny took a slow drink and tried to avoid staring at her. He had not had any lunch and felt a tingle shoot through his entire body that felt absolutely wonderful.

Lizzy picked up her gin and tonic and held it in front of Benny. “A toast,” she announced.

“A toast,” Benny parroted.

“To the alleviation of my sadness,” Lizzy declared.

“Let your sadness be gone.”

The two clinked glasses and both took long drinks. As Lizzy tilted her head back to take a second drink, Benny took the opportunity to sneak a peek to solve the mystery of the possible missing bra. Case solved—no bra. Flustered by a sharp shift in his hormones when faced with the undeniable beauty of this young woman, Benny downed the rest of his drink.

Now, let’s get one thing straight—Benny never in his mind accused alcohol for his undoing and poor choices. Benny blamed himself, his lack of clarity and focus, and his boy parts.

Seeing his drink finished, Lizzy popped up and slinked over to the silver cart from room service. She too, needed a refill and played bartender with her back purposely to Benny so he could study her without detection. And study her he did. Of course, at one point in the making of the drinks, Lizzy dropped something and had to bend over to pick it up. Benny almost passed out.

Delivering the drinks, Lizzy asked him if he would like to make a toast.

“To your happiness.” Benny held up his beverage.

“Do you mean it?” Lizzy asked.

“Of course,” Benny answered. “I want you to heal from this terrible tragedy and live a happy life.”

“Do you want me to be happy right now?” Lizzy asked.

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Lizzy pulled her thin white summer dress over her head and tossed it onto the floor. She still had on the pink panties Benny had touched twice. She sat in Benny’s lap without rejection.