Kiss and Smell

By Michael McCracken

A wife who intentionally lost her memory, a husband who lost his wife, a woman who lost her loved ones, a man who lost control of his life – and how they all found what they needed because of the odd, eccentric detective, The Basset.
Would Abigail regain her memory? Would Alex find the love of his life again? Would she maintain her sanity after meeting her long deceased mother? Would “Kiss and Smell” really work?
Would Gynni’s tragedy and thirst for revenge trigger a chain of causes and effects, involving Abigail, The Basset, the FBI, and a psychologically troubled Fuzzy Fepheff?
Would Fuzzy resolve his problems and gain freedom from his domineering wife?
What if you had the chance to spend “Just One More Day” with someone you love and miss, someone you admire, or someone you find just interesting? Psychiatrist Ray Hibernia found a way to provide you with “Just One More Day”.
Between the answer to all these questions lies a brutal murder, a revenge plot, and a series of prevented injuries.
Can The Basset, with his ever-present canine partners (a Petit Basset Griffon Vendeen and a German Shorthaired Pointer), his penchant for describing people as dogs, and his equally eccentric human assistant reunite Alex and Abigail, but not before intervening in the nefarious plots of the evil Too Sisters. Two malevolent siblings with no moral compasses, just a demented pleasure of inflicting pain.
Conundrums, strange people, dogs, loonies, danger, mayhem – and in the end, a solution to the puzzle and justice. So, put your nose to the ground, pick up the scent, and follow the trail of Kiss and Smell.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael McCracken
• Release date: Aug 7, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476264981

Michael McCracken

Michael McCracken and his wife, Cynthia, have numerous champion Petits Basset Griffons Vendeens and German Shorthaired Pointers. When Michael is not writing, working with dogs or being an amateur photojournalist, he is a management consultant.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Who am I? How did I get here? Why am I here? Who is this woman across from me?

We all ask these questions when we wake up from a dream. Except Abigail was awake, was sure she was awake, and still asking these questions.

She could feel her arms and legs, yet could not move. When dreaming, our bodies freeze our limbs so we don’t lash out and injure ourselves. A defense mechanism. Abigail needed all the defenses she could muster, physical, mental and emotional.

The harsh voice from across the table pierced her consciousness, allowing her to move her arms and legs again.

Abigail focused again on what she was saying ….

CHAPTER 1

Akinna was sitting across the small table from Abigail and stared coldly into her eyes – Abigail was terrorized by her unblinking, hollow dark orbs. Her eyes seemed more deep set because of the leonine mane of coarse black hair.

A knife flashed from her side; it was a stiletto. Its thin, fine blade gleamed in the overhead light.

This knife will find you, soon, if we come to you, she hissed.

Abigail swallowed hard, not breathing, not prepared for what happened next.

The stiletto flashed down towards the table; Abigail blinked and almost missed its impact. The knife plunged into Akinna’s left hand, which was resting on the table. It entered the soft area between the thumb and forefinger. There was a scar there, right where the blade entered. As the blade sliced through flesh, blood seeped out slowly, then faster and faster.

Akinna let go of the knife and again looked directly into Abigail’s eyes. Her eyes reflected no pain, no surprise, nothing.

She then pulled the knife from her hand. This is my blood now, but it can be yours. And then she licked the blood from the knife, careful not to cut her tongue – drops dribbled from the corners of her mouth. And I like the taste of blood.

Akinna got up from the table and sauntered out of the room, her hand dripping blood on her tight leather pants, which rolled down her leg, and onto the floor. She left faint, red footsteps indicating her departure.

The limousine pulled up to the curb and the chauffer leapt from behind the wheel and opened the rear door. The mustachioed man inside did not look like he belonged in such a luxurious automobile. His clothes were somewhat plain and he was disheveled, and he looked nervous. His blinked hard when the door opened, and when his pupils adjusted to the light, his eyes darted back and forth.

Akinna gracefully slid into the limousine’s sumptuous dark interior, and the chauffer slammed the door close. The tinted window reflected the sky, not allowing any prying eyes to see the limousine’s passengers. The limo idled for a few moments, while Akinna and the man talked.

The man whispered at Akinna, How did it go?

I think I scared her away from us. She believed me, and she will probably not challenge you, Akinna flatly stated. But you’d better go and reinforce the message while she’s in shock.

This will even us up, pay off my debt, the man leaned forward to emphasize his earnestness.

Akinna ignored him, and stared out the tinted window. Fuzzy was so predictable.

After a moment of silence, he decided she was not going to answer him; he gathered himself, and opened the limo door, heaving his body from the seat to his feet. He summoned up his courage and walked into the restaurant. He muttered to himself, just set me on fire. Passersby that heard this just shook their heads, another crazy person loose on the streets.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Abigail was still staring at the table when the waiter came up, Maam, are you all right? Did you cut yourself?

No, no, Abigail muttered, I’m fine, she lied.

She then sniffed the air like a dog, Waiter, is that your cologne I smell?

He paused, puzzled by this change of direction, Why, I guess it is.

Is it Perry Ellis?

The waiter stared at Abigail, Well, yes it is. You have a very good nose, maam.

I thought so, Abigail stared back at the waiter, just looking at him. I wonder why I know this? What do I do with this information? Before she could answer her own question, the waiter regained control.

Let me get you a clean tablecloth. Off he scurried, anxious to contain the situation and stop the other patrons from staring.

And they were staring. The young couple did not really believe their eyes when Akinna stabbed herself. She moved so quickly, all they saw was a blur and a little blood. Maybe she missed her poached salmon, and accidently carved herself? After a moment, they returned to meal, and staring into each other’s eyes.

Another couple, seated in the corner, did not seem shocked by the knife scene. They began talking furiously, yet quietly, to each other; then both jotted some notes in small notebooks. Journalists? Reporters? Entries to their diaries? Unknown.

Sitting at the third table with a view of the knife scene, a gentleman with the silver goatee, saw they whole tableau play out. He saw the stiletto, saw the look in Akinna’s eyes after she stabbed herself, and more importantly saw her lick the blood from the knife. His enjoyed keeping his mind sharp by observing all the fine details of every situation. Not only did it keep him lucid, but he could pose these details as questions to his friend, associate and house guest, the detective. He could live vicariously through his friend and protégé, examining clues and details, and then assist him solving the mystery.

Such as why did she stab herself? Who was the other woman? Why she appear tranquilized? Why did this mustachioed man come shuffling in and sit with her? What did they talk about? Why did he look so sad, as if he lost his last friend? So many questions, so many details as he played the video back in his mind.

Oh, he had many questions to pose to his house guest. This was great, if only he were here.

He returned to his meal and his thoughts. He recalled the last time he was in this restaurant, this scene was almost déjà vu. Four weeks ago, he saw this same woman stab herself the same way as she did tonight and he had just attended the most upsetting movie; while he liked the actors and the well written script, the violence was over the top. There were way too many killings for his taste; in fact he liked movies that ended on a happy note. This final scene in the side street, with the protagonist violently stabbed with a sword, almost made him stand up and leave. As the revulsion spread through him, the credits rolled, ending the movie. We have all been there, walking out of a movie, thinking, I just wasted my time and my money. I’m not going to do that again! He thought, wait till I tell Bass not to waste his time on this bomb. Good thing the restaurant was close, so I could get my mind off this violent cinematic waste of effort. As he turned the corner, he saw the police car blocking the entrance to a side street.

Like any curious onlooker, he tried to peer around the car, trying to look through the strobing red and blue lights. All he could see were two sheets covering what he only assumed were two unfortunate bodies. What happened in this part of town? Did these people meet some bizarre accident? Was it a crime?

As he peered through the flashing lights, he saw a red haired woman, sobbing, leaning against one of the policeman. The cop was not trying to talk, just holding her, actually holding her up, as it appeared her legs were buckling from the sobbing. I wonder …

Move along, folks, another policeman directed us. As he started to walk away from the police car, additional policeman were starting to stretch the CRIME SCENE, DO NOT CROSS yellow tape across the entire opening of the side street. Watching them, and not watching where he was walking, the gentleman bumped into someone. Turning his head in the direction he should have been looking, he saw it was the sobbing woman, the victim he presumed. At that instant, the gentleman made eye contact with the red haired woman. He noticed her eyes were green, and obviously bloodshot from crying, but curiously cold. He had seen that type of coldness before during his military career. The coldness of a Special Ops soldier before parachuting into danger, the coldness of a Navy SEAL, right before he rolled out of the inflatable boat and into the unknown. It was a coldness of resolve, to complete the mission, and to eliminate any who stood in the way.

The silver haired gentleman continued down the street to the restaurant, pondering what happened.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Akinna changed her mind, and got out of the limousine.

Park the car, Daks, I’ll be in the office for a while.

She walked to the elevators, bypassing the restaurant entrance, and pushed the button for the top floor. The doors opened, and she disappeared into the dark of the mechanical cave. The doors closed with a slight whoosh, and she was gone before anyone in the lobby could identify her as the woman who stabbed herself.

The elevators opened and the first thing a new visitor would notice were the two prominent signs, not large, just positioned right at eye level for a 5’7 to 6’1 person. The bold type was bright blue against a light tan background; the first sign directing one to The Psychiatric Association of North America office to the right, and JUST ONE MORE DAY office to the left.

Akinna turned left, and went about halfway down the hall. The door was unmarked, one might have thought of it as a closet. She took her keycard from her purse and swiped the reader. The lock clicked open and she walked in.

The outer reception area had a couch and coffee table, devoid of any magazines. There were no paintings on the bland, wallpapered walls. And the door to the adjoining office was partially hidden by a potted miniature tree. The interesting thing was the inner office door had a card reader also.

Akinna swiped the second card reader, opened the door and walked in. The office had two desks and quite a bit of high tech equipment scattered on the desks. The most prominent device on the desk was a wireless receiver, with an external antenna extending three or so feet high. Mykki was sitting there, with headphones on, monitoring the receiver.

How did it go? she cooed syruply, with her ever-present lisp.

Fine! Akinna retorted sharply. As you can see, she held up her hand which was bandaged, I used the knife in the hand drama, like I did with what’s-her-name last month. It worked so well, I figure it’s worth the pain. And Fuzzy is a little weak-kneed on this, but we can push him. What are you doing? We should be planning for tomorrow.

I know, Mykki said sheepishly, I’m just addicted to knowing what’s happening. After tomorrow, we may need a new client.

You’re right. Anything interesting? Akinna gestured with her head toward the wall behind Mykki.

No, he’s finishing his last session. A marriage counseling; I don’t think there’s any opportunity in those two, Mykki reported. The multiple wireless bugs were functioning perfectly, giving these sisters high fidelity eavesdropping on Dr. Hibernia. They could almost hear as well as the Doctor, even though a wall separated them from the patient. Installing the bugs was so easy, pose as a patient, delay the doctor, then plant these microscopic devices. Why would a psychiatrist think anyone would eavesdrop on him? Why would he sweep the room for listening devices? Why would he pay the expense to have his office made bug-proof, installing lead lined walls, to disrupt frequency generators? They would just wreck havoc with his cordless phone and wireless router. The bugs were using his wireless network as the carrier signal to the Too Sisters’ receiver. This sure beats war sitting, stealing entrance to unprotected wireless networks just to surf the web. Better to use that access for profit or control. And to think, Mykki’s father thought her education in Information Technology was going to be wasted.

‘This was such a great idea,’ mused Mykki. These people are so tortured, so easy to exploit, so easy to extort; we should have done this years ago. Maybe we should expand from Raleigh to wealthier areas, New York City, Palm Beach. I’ll talk with Akinna about this later.

CHAPTER 2

Abigail had staggered out of the restaurant, and blankly stared at the departing limousine, unable to see that only the driver was in it. Abigail had missed Akinna re-entering the building and going up the elevator. Something was familiar, triggering distant memories. Was it the shiny ebony of the limo, the reflection from the rear window? Abigail didn’t know.

Was this Abigail’s brain fear center (her amygdale) taking control? The amygdale can be activated in response to dangers a person merely observes, let alone experiences. When you are watching it and you are told that it is going to happen to you, it causes the same robust response by the amygdale as if you actually experience it yourself. So she almost felt the knife pierce her hand just as it did Akinna’s. She felt the pain swell and the blood begin to flow. She felt the shock of cold as the body reacts to the trauma. And she definitely felt the fear looking into Akinna’s eyes and hearing the sibilant threat.

Where the brain has safety signals to turn off fear, our brain’s wiring heavily favors the on switch.

The feelings from seeing the limousine, though; she did know. The warmth of being held by a lover, the smell of his sweat, the remembrance of his cologne, filled her mind. Smell is very evocative. Odors have the uncanny ability to recall the entire ambience of an experience – not just what you saw, but how you felt at the time. Smell can bring back memories.

She snapped back to reality – how did she get here?

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

In their office, Akinna and Mykki Lemons, felt safe from the world, although the world was not safe from them. They were quite a pair; looking at them no one would match them as sisters. Watching them closer, one would definitely pair them as sisters.

Akinna was tall, black-maned, and voluptuous. In fact, her hair was her obvious and treasured trait. It was so thick that when it was humid, it would grow bushy. It was like she had fallen into a jar of humectant. Also obvious was the amount of hair on her forearms; not hairy like a man’s, but fine yet noticeable. However, she did not have the female moustache that unfortunately accompanies this female hirsutism. She apparently did not suffer from increased androgens. She accentuated her hair and her body in that order. Where her pants and top might look like they were spray painted on, both men and jealous women would first notice the color, and how it beautified her hair. A shocking white or pink tank top would contrast her black hair, that’s what you would see. Then you would notice her nipples bursting through the tank top material and the seam of her jeans cleaving her crotch.

Where Akinna was tall and voluptuous, Mykki was blonde and corpulent. She had to be at least 5 foot 10, and weighed over 250 pounds. Her unique trait was a slight lisp, as if her tongue was too thick. This slight disability did not hamper her career, where her ambition drove her to a respectable, high level position in the Information Technology field. In fact, she used her lisp as a tool; when she talked you had to pay attention to what she was saying. Then she would meter her speech, slowing the rate down to a heartbeat rhythm. As you focused on her talking, human nature would cause your eyes to gravitate towards her mouth. Your focus was on her mouth now; if she were a pickpocket, she would have been one of the best. You would be under her spell. However, she used her lisp-notism to provide a diversion for Akinna to move about behind the scenes. Even though people could not help keeping their eyes off Akinna, Mykki’s ability to cloud their minds made Akinna invisible.

While the sisters could easily masquerade as unrelated individuals, their mannerisms and personalities inexorably linked them. They were the Too Sisters, a name they acquired in high school. After repeated torment from other children for being so different, yet alike, Akinna and Mykki overcompensated by dressing in similar clothes, their sibling uniform. Their mother was puzzled why they wanted identical blouses, pants, jeans, skirts, coats, gloves, mufflers, and shoes; yet she indulged them. Akinna and Mykki reinforced the Too Sister label; classmates would talk to Mykki, and she would constantly include Akinna, … and Akinna too. They did nothing alone, always together. It was always Mykki and Akinna too; or Akinna and Mykki too. They challenged other children to laugh at them, secure in each other to protect the other.

The alternate meanings of the word Too especially applied - excessively: to a degree exceeding normal or proper limits. Their schizophrenic personalities would switch from sweet little girls to attack mode as they would plunge a pen or a pocket knife into a victims arm or leg. Their game was to maim, not to kill. When they were old enough, they both got tattoos on their inner thighs, in very tiny font, that read The game is to maim.

We all like to say they weren’t always this way, but that’s not true. They were. Their parents, Len and Lou (Louise) Lemons, weren’t the nicest people in the world. They were schemers, hiding their nefarious intentions behind syrupy-sweet kind words. They were also busybodies, intruding into others actions, such as undermining the grade school PTA organization with their meddling. Small wonder the girls turned out to be manipulative and meddling. As the old saying goes, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree should be modified to the lemon doesn’t fall far from the tree.

As young girls, Akinna and Mykki tortured their school classmates with schemes like Pepto Bismol icing on a birthday cake, urinary tracers in the Prom punch, and alum in the neighbor’s dog food. Nothing lethal, yet. They were just honing their skills. Remember, The game is to maim.

Then off they went to college – Mykki studying accounting and computer science. Akinna pursued the Fine Arts, majoring in photography. Unable to trust anyone else, they shared a dorm room, a veritable assassins’ den in the making.

After graduation, they refined their skills of torture and non-lethal assassination. For a while, they free-lanced as private investigators, especially spurned wife cases. We all know them, the jilted wife replaced by the younger trophy girlfriend. The Too Sisters became very adept at doing character assassinations of the husbands. While the media was reporting the sometimes true, but usually false information about the husband, this was not enough for the Sisters. They reveled in physical torture and humiliation. Their unique skills were to hurt, but leave no physical scars. More importantly, they would leave no trace, no fingerprints identifying them as the source of the pain infliction. They would be there to watch, gleefully, while providing words of sympathy and encouragement to the victim. Their business model of character assassinations would include a small bit of violence added, free of charge to their clients.

The uniforms and last name was not the only thing they had in common. They were spoiled, spiteful women. Talking with them, one would quickly conclude they were connected – if not by family then by envy, ambition, and evil. The emphasis should be on evil.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Mykki argued, We have to eliminate Abigail.

Why, Akinna trilled, she doesn’t know anything.

She is the common connection, she knows everyone. Stranger things have happened, but one stray, casual comment leads to another, then another. Then a question comes up, and while trying to find the answer, the trail gets warm, and ultimately leads back to us, Mykki growled, becoming red, and appearing to puff to an even larger size than she was.

Akinna did not take her sister on directly, that never worked. She always tried to play the dumber artist to her sister’s logical accountant/computer geek.

I still don’t see the big deal, show me, Akinna trilled. She used her cooing voice on Mykki, which just pissed Mykki off.

Don’t try that cooing on me, Akinna, a snake can’t be killed with its own venom.

Mykki labored to her feet and went over to the flip chart easel in the corner of the office.

Here, let me draw you a picture. Maybe then you’ll understand, Mykki growled again. Grabbing the marker pen in her left hand, she started writing and drawing lines, making a chart that transformed from spaghetti to a clear chart of connections.

There. Now do you see, Mykki said with a sense of contempt in her voice.

Akinna studied the chart for a few moments before speaking.

OK, I get it, she at the center of the web. So what do you propose?

Mykki was ready with the answer, the simple answer, We have to kill her.

Akinna was not totally ready for that answer, Kill her, no. We already scared her, maybe she’ll go away before she connects all the dots. We don’t have to kill her, she’s a nice person. And we have never killed anyone before. I’m not ready to go to that level. If she doesn’t leave town, can’t we just hurt her like we always do?

Mykki turned even a redder shade at this, she looked like she was going to explode. A nice person, nice, she shouted. Are you nuts! A nice person. Nice is not what we are about. Nice is not what we have built over the years. Nice is what little old ladies see in people when they allegedly help them, while taking advantage of them or ignoring them. Nice is what people focus on when they can’t take control. Nice – what are you thinking?

She continued, You’re right, we have never killed anyone. But there’s the first time for everything. Maybe we’re moving to the next level.

The Too Sisters had prospered and survived over the years by being together, guarding each other’s back, and by being paranoid. While one was doing the deed, the other was either on lookout, or getting close to the police who would potential investigate the crime. Being close to the police early in the process made the investigation go even faster and in favor of the Too Sisters.

Mykki was definitely paranoid here, but Akinna was exhibiting a small crack in her armor, showing for the first time a trace of compassion.

Let the fear and threat have time to work, to scare her off, Akinna repeated. She’s confused, doesn’t know where she’s from, she doesn’t know anything. How do know she will remember us, or be able to put all the pieces together? Akinna implored.

Mykki was having nothing of it. Where is this sudden softness coming from? It didn’t work with Lee, remember. Abigail must die. And that guy also.

Akinna drifted back to Lee, and their whirlwind romance. And their marriage, even though it lasted only 6 months. Mykki was right, the softness didn’t work. The marriage disintegrated because of Lee saw the real Akinna, the evil side, and because of the unrelenting presence of Mykki.

At times, Lee muttered, Which one of you am I married to?

He still loved her in spite of all of this. Akinna could not love, would not love. She married Lee out of curiosity, to find out what the other half experienced. She temporarily fell in love with being in love, but it didn’t last long. Mykki took great pains to continuously reinforce that sisterly love was stronger than any other love. Lee begged to reconcile, suggesting marriage counseling. Akinna softened just a bit, agreeing to one session. Dr. Hibernia tried the usual methods of discussing difficulties, but the hour long session ended where it started – a husband in love, a wife not.

The Dr. Hibernia counseling session was not a waste. As could be expected, Mykki joined Lee and Akinna to the counseling session. She conned Lee into thinking that she would possibly be able to contribute some insight to the counseling session.

Lee, I know Akinna almost as well as she knows herself. This may help the shrink understand your relationship problems, Mykki lied.

She could tell that Lee didn’t believe her, but Akinna intervened, insisting Mykki join them.

Mykki loitered in the waiting room, having volunteered to drive Lee and Akinna to the session. She grew tired of thumbing through old magazines, when she saw the flyer. JUST ONE MORE DAY – who would you meet? Intriguing, what’s JOMD? Mykki’s curiosity was wetted, so she picked up the flyer, scanning for a definition.

JUST ONE MORE DAY

Share one more day

with a loved one

with a friend

with a respected colleague

with a historical figure you admire

JUST ONE MORE DAY, only one.

Be prepared, ask your questions, get closure in your JUST ONE MORE DAY

Through hypnosis, Dr. Hibernia will help you re-connect

Contact Ray Hibernia, Ph.D.

Mykki looked up from the flyer, and scanned the waiting room. There were a few people waiting for Dr. Hibernia. Mykki zeroed in on how they looked, how their personalities were reflected by their faces. She was like a shark swimming through a school of fish. Every patient had an anxious look on their face, an anticipatory look characterized by pursed lips, eyes downturned, even some were biting their lips.

Then the light bulb went off in Mykki’s mind, these people were apprehensive about their JUST ONE MORE DAY. They were scared of what they might hear or what they might feel. They were afraid.

The fear was blood in the water for shark-like Mykki. Akinna and I can use this fear Mykki thought. These weak souls will be easy to prey on. As the saying goes, A fool and his money are soon parted, so true also for the frightened. Just think how the life insurance industry and the stock selling industry market. Buy life insurance to protect your loved ones. It makes sense, don’t get me wrong, but it really is death insurance. And a frightened person is easier to deal with than a fool. Wait till I talk with Akinna.

Not long after this, the Too Sisters moved into the office next to Dr. Hibernia and the JUST ONE MORE DAY Institute.

CHAPTER 3

Bass was excited. He enjoyed travelling, especially when his dogs were with him, which was almost always. His custom SUV provided him with room in the back seat to conduct business – poring over reports, peering at his computer for information, talking on his phone, and most importantly, sitting with his eyes closed and a hand on one