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Beach Stakeout
By Ann


I race into the building and into the conference room just as Amos is preparing to pass out our new assignments.

"Sorry, Amos; there was a huge accident on the freeway," I apologetically explain as I slide into my chair.

"Hey Karen, are you ever going to put in a good word with Marley for me?" Phil asks in a pleading voice.

"Kavanagh, this is a division of the US Marshall's office, not a dating service," Amos replies to the lovesick marshall.

"Sorry, Amos," is muttered by a chastised Phil as Amos continues with the meeting.

"Okay, first up is Gerald Mullins. This guy is real bad news. He's even got the Mafia on his tail now so he's desperate. Word is out that he is going to pull a Dinardo so Karen I think this case is right up your ally," Amos states as he slides the folder over.

Curious, I open the file and begin to read as I tune out the teasing remarks my colleagues are throwing my way. I can barely concentrate when I hear the occasional word or two slip through my focus.

Standing, I excuse myself and head for my office as Kavanagh's declaration follows me out the door.

"There's no way I'd cut off my manhood; they'd have to shoot me first."

That is precisely what is going to happen to Mr. Mullins if I don't find him first. I pick up my pace as I continue to read the file while maneuvering around furniture on my way to my desk.

After a couple of hours of research, I am intimately acquainted with Gerald Mullins. I know his likes and dislikes as well as the number of individuals he has assassinated while serving as a hit man for one of New York's most notorious gangs. No wonder he's desperate.

I complete a timeline of the past few years and make a special notation to the time when Mr. Mullins seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth.

If memory serves me correctly from my research on the Dinardo case, Mullins has had enough time to almost complete his transformation. The only thing left is the final surgery to remove his last link with 'mankind.'

Reading through the material one more time, it becomes apparent that Mr. Mullins loves water and specifically the beach. There is no way he can resist the waters of Miami Beach so I plan to spend my next few days on a beach stakeout. If nothing else, at least I'll get a tan out of the deal.

I run everything by Amos, and then excitedly exit the building and head for my car. What a good excuse to go bathing suit shopping. Smiling, I buckle up and back out of my space.

Arriving at the beach, I stake out a spot and set up my lounge chair. I slather myself with suntan lotion and put on my floppy hat and sunglasses. Glancing around, I notice very little movement on the beach at the moment so I pull out the latest Cornwell novel and begin to read.

I look up every now and then to see if there is any sign of a female wearing a sarong or cover-up, but so far there are only women wearing string bikinis. Unless Mr. Mullins is suffering from 'little man syndrome,' he definitely isn't one of these lovely ladies.

A movement beside me startles me, and I nearly fall out of my chair. I'm thankful that I'm wearing sunglasses when I get a load of the long, sexy legs of my new neighbor.

Pushing the glasses further up the bridge of my nose, I sneak a peak as she leans over her chair with her back to me.

Holy Hannah, she's got buns of steal; I just thought that was an expression.

She certainly doesn't leave much to the viewer's imagination either as her bikini barely covers the necessary parts. I'd probably have a heart attack if she was wearing a thong.

I force myself to move my eyes up her body to note the tiny string which is responsible for holding her top in place. When she turns in my direction, I finally succeed in falling out of my chair.


Shit, it is Marley. I've been sitting here drooling over Marley Novak, a very eligible lesbian I might add. The very same lesbian that scares the hell out of me because I'm attracted to her.

"Oh, hey Marley. What are you doing here?" I not so eloquently ask as I pull myself up off the sand and attempt to brush the tiny bits off my legs.

"Right now I'm enjoying the view," is her amused answer.

I look up to find her with the perfect angle to see the parts that my tiny suit doesn't cover up so I guess we're even. Embarrassed, I quickly stand to remove the view from her wandering eyes.

Chuckling, she adds, "There've been reports of some guy exposing himself to women. The eye witnesses have told some very weird stories so I thought I'd come out and see if he'd mind showing me his goods so I could arrest him."

It's really funny how difficult it is to focus on anything else but the expanse of skin being laid out in front of my very eyes. It takes everything I've got to force myself to maintain eye contact.

Wait a minute. What did she mean by weird stories?

"Weird?" is my one word response.

Marley motions for me to retake my seat as she does the same.

"Yeah, really weird. All of these women swear that they thought this guy was a woman with long hair and fairly large breasts. They said he came up to them and whipped off his sarong and asked them if they would suck him off while he still had a dick."

Unbelievable; our cases cross again.

I begin to explain the situation to Marley when a very tall woman with a red sarong makes her way toward the two of us. We both grin widely as we watch the woman approach.

Fifteen minutes later, Marley helps me put a handcuffed Gerald Mullins in the back of my car. As I walk around to climb in the driver's side, Marley comes around and puts her hand on the door stopping my progress.

"I thought I'd try once more for old time's sake. So, Karen would you like to have dinner with me tonight? I make a mean lasagna," Marley says with a grin.

Smiling, I open the car door and reply, "I'd like that. I'll be there at seven, and I'll even bring the wine."

Marley sweetly kisses my cheek and walks away with a huge grin on her face.

I stand outside the car just watching that sweet ass walk away in that lucky bikini.

Shaking my head, I climb into the car.

I can't wait for tonight.

The End

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