Infatuation

By Steve Pickle

Cody Lane with his supermodel good looks and razor sharp mind is on the fast track to the alter when a routine stop derails his love train forever. One glance into the smoldering eroticism of Ursula’s piercing blue eyes, sparkling like two perfectly cut and polished sapphires twinkling in a shallow pool of moonlit spring water draws Cody into her world like a moth to a flame. The unthinkable act he witnesses next will alter his very existence, and exposes his virtuous young world to a life of greed, lust, deception, and sociopathic killers. One word describes the mesmerizing passion that explodes between Cody and Ursula, that word is “Infatuation”.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steve Pickle
• Release date: Feb 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301400645

Steve Pickle

Steve is an accomplished television writer, producer director and has won numerous EMMY, ADDY, and PROMAX Awards. He has experienced more than twenty years working in all facets of the television and communications industry. He has also written more than ten screenplays, multiple sitcoms, and a number of other projects including a kids series. He is a prolific writer and has worked professionally for many years as a stand up comedian. Steve's comedic talents and years of television promotion background bring a world of expertise to his varied stories. From a Romantic Comedy to a spellbinding suspense thriller Steve's written work covers it all.

Book preview

INFATUATION

Steve Pickle

Copyright © 2013 by Steve Pickle

Smashwords Edition

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Book 1 – GODDESS REVEALED

Book 2 – PAST HISTORY

Book 3 – DEADLY INTENTIONS

Book 4 – HAVE YOUR CAKE

Book 1

GODDESS REVEALED

A CHERRY RED eighties model Jeep Wrangler, with open top and roll bar casually meandered its way up the tropically lush tree lined streets of a posh San Francisco bedroom hideaway.

Millionaire technical wizards and filthy rich investment brokers occupied most of the monolith-sized homes that adorned this nesting retreat for the city’s wealthy elite.

The air reverberated with anticipation as Cody Lane handled some last minute preparations for his rapidly approaching Saturday nuptials.

He clutched with his left foot, downshifted, and guided his Jeep into the visitor’s lane as he approached a manned neighborhood security checkpoint.

The sizeable limestone guard station was the main point of entry for a very well to do country club community that rested just an imaginary world away from San Francisco’s flourishing financial district.

A ruggedly handsome, thirty something, younger man, with chiseled face and supermodel good looks confidently manned the wheel of his well-worn, and slightly dented Jeep Wrangler.

Cody Lane’s shoulder length dirty blond locks were tussled and beaten from the open-air drive. He used his long slender fingers and brushed his hair to the side and toward the back of his head to get an unencumbered look at the guard.

Select quarried stone and mason mortared structures supported two handcrafted ornate cast iron gates. The gates were attached to the two colossal artisan carved limestone pillars and emblazoned in the middle with a spectacularly crested shield. At the center of the crest sat the very grand and pretentiously stylized gold plated letters P and C.

Cody guided his battered and greatly worn vehicle into the prestigious Prestwood Community. Prestwood was an exclusive community that overflowed with huge, overly stated multi million dollar luxury homes.

It was the kind of community where a fixer upper would set you back a good ten to twelve million dollars in a bad real estate market.

Cody was financially out of his league, but he inched forward with confidence, knowing that his visit had a purpose and that purpose was his fiancée who lived just up the street well beyond the central guard station.

Cody was a friendly, charismatic and boyishly charming lad who had been to the Community many times before, and most of the guards at Prestwood knew him by name.

Today Cody eyeballed the young enthusiastic guard, Archie Ramirez, who checked everyone’s identification closely to make sure nobody without the proper credentials slipped into the neighborhood.

As Cody pulled his vehicle up along side Archie in the guard station, he shot him a friendly wave. Archie immediately recognized Cody, and pressed the button to grant him passage through the massive gates.

Archie shouted quite loudly in Cody’s direction, compensating for the loud clacking roar of the aging Jeep’s engine.

Almost time Cody, not too late to back out, Archie cheerfully chimed.

Cody gave him a recognition nod, and paused for a moment to take in what Archie had just said.

My sister Tina is still available, and she makes a killer key lime pie, Archie informed Cody with a smile in his voice.

She's a cutie all right, but I guess I'm going to have to take a rain check, Cody said as he downshifted the Jeep and popped the clutch.

I'm a little too far into this thing to call it off now, Cody replied.

OK, but if you come to your senses, you know where we are.

See ya buddy, Cody said as he nervously chuckled.

Cody warmly smiled as he revved his engine and sped through the opened gates.

He pumped the accelerator on his Wrangler and downshifted to get up enough speed to top the tree lined hill as he cruised toward his fiancée’s home.

Within moments Cody rounded the curve and pulled into a grand circular driveway of intricately cobbled red brick pavers.

The driveway to his fiancée’s home was cut into a magnificently manicured lawn, which was generously peppered with many fully-grown half-century oak trees.

The Ressler family home was a reproduction of an old style Charleston carriage house pumped up on steroids.

The house was a nineteen thousand square foot plus plantation style three-story brick estate, complete with tall columns and Charleston green shuttered windows all the way around.

The only thing missing from Ressler’s overdone southern mansion was a lawn jockey standing watch at the top of the long circular drive. It was replaced with an ugly concrete statue of a half naked woman strategically holding a picnic basket.

Cody pulled his Jeep almost to the parking area, cut off the key, then glided the last twenty feet. He pressed the breaks firmly and came to a sudden stop near a big brick flower planter full of bright yellow and orange blooming daylilies.

The Jeep refused to sleep; it obnoxiously backfired, and sputtered embarrassingly loudly for what seemed like minutes.

Even though the vehicle had given up the ghost quick enough, it was not fast enough to avoid the attention of his fiancée’s father.

Cody eased his head upward and spotted Big Bill Ressler, his future father-in-law, as he sheepishly gazed over the top of the closed mahogany shutters from his third story home office.

The always controlling and very nosey Bill Ressler gave him an evil eye for the involuntary actions of his gurgling contraption.

Cody had served time in Bill Ressler’s third story private office many times before, and many times he had been trapped into listening to him go on and on about absolutely nothing at all.

Bill dizzily bragged about his family background and how all of their hard work had built his mega money empire.

Bill Ressler’s family business was a well-financed old money savings and loan that catered to some of the wealthy blue bloods of the Bay City.

Bill Ressler was not only Cody’s future father-in-law, he was also his current boss at the Ressler Family Savings and Loan.

Cody had worked for the Ressler Family Savings and Loan since he had graduated from Stanford University four years earlier.

Bill Ressler ardently resented Cody’s meager financial situation and humble pedigree, and used every opportunity he could to strike a demeaning swipe at Cody.

Ressler’s daughter Larissa, Cody’s fiancée, was a strikingly beautiful young lady whom he had met while both of them had attended Stamford University.

Ressler had given Cody a job at the Savings and Loan after their graduation. He secretly hoped that his daughter would quickly tire of an average working stiff, and begin to look elsewhere for a suitor.

Needless to say Bill Ressler was totally caught off guard at his Country Club’s summer block party two years prior when his daughter announced to everyone that she and Cody were engaged.

Since their engagement Bill Ressler had used every conceivable opportunity he could to break them apart, but had not succeeded.

Cody hated the unwanted put-downs, but let them slide because it was not Bill Ressler he intended to marry, it was his stylishly hot daughter Larissa.

Cody leapt from his still clacking Jeep and stumbled sideways up the front steps toward the main entrance. He wobbled like a crab as he kept an eye peeled on his wheezing machine. The red beast gave one final puff and burped to a grand amplified finish. A blue cloud of gas vapor blew from the exhaust as it finally quit.

Cody leaned into the front entrance and peered into the one way tinted double glass doors and then stepped back and rang the bell.

The housekeeper opened the door a fraction and motioned for Cody to enter. She turned and left through the side room as Cody responded to her invitation.

Cody reached for the door, pulled it open and stepped inside.

A mouthy woman with sun baked leathery skin, excessively overdone frosted hair, and weighted down in heavy gold jewelry wobbled out of the room at the back of the hall. She attempted to fasten a two-carat diamond stud post onto her droopy old earlobe. She lost her grip on the jewel, fumbled it into the air and finally dropped it on the Italian marbled entry floor.

Irene Ressler cursed as she lost control of the diamond bobble.

Dammit, why can't they make a diamond post with a stud strong enough to push through your ear without bending?

Irene said loudly as she asked Cody if he saw where the jewelry had gone.

Irene cocked her head, arched her back and scanned the marble closely as Cody watched the diamond stud hit the floor.

Cody bent down as Irene Ressler blabbered on.

I'd leave the damn thing there and go put on another pair, but with the help you get these days, it would be gone in minutes.

These pack of thieves we have working here would find it and have it hocked by the afternoon.

Cody picked the diamond up from the floor and handed it to his future mother-in-law.

He straightened up and caught a glimpse of Maria Sanchez, the kindly middle-aged lady employed for a number of years as the head housekeeper for the Ressler clan. She glared intently at Irene’s backside in disgust as she listened to her incredibly stupid accusations.

Irene noticed that Cody had focused on someone and turned around and caught sight of Maria who oddly glared at her.

Irene was a slight bit embarrassed that she had a witness to her racist remarks, and clumsily changed her expression.

Irene rudely raised her voice louder as if she was conversing with a person experiencing a hearing difficulty.

I wasn't talking about you, not you, she said loudly. That was meant for one of the others...oh just forget it."

Irene waved Maria Sanchez off and turned back toward Cody and mumbled stupidly under her breath.

This one can't even speak English. Oh, why do I bother to waste my time to help these people?

Irene fastened the diamond post into place and turned to inspect her boney skin stretched body in the floor to ceiling gold-framed mirror that adorned the side of the foyer.

She straightened up her collar, then touched, and lightly fluffed her extensively sprayed hair do.

She twisted around and planted an oddly awkward air peck on Cody, then recoiled as if he were an infection carrier.

You smell like gas! Have you been working on your car this morning?

Irene Ressler asked as she barked at Cody in a grave voice.

Cody started to answer but was abruptly cut off by Bill Ressler who had rudely butted in on the conversation.

Big Bill Ressler, officially known as William Hawthorne Ressler The Third, spoke from his self-anointed royal perch at the top of the stairs.

He stood outside his home office on the third floor of the family’s garishly decorated home. He had conveniently and offensively eavesdropped on everyone’s conversation.

From the edge of the third floor railing Bill observed the action of everyone below him. He behaved like a portentous king who had pompously just examined the mere peasants of his kingdom.

Cody started to answer Irene’s question about his gasoline aroma when Bill Ressler bloviated his obnoxious and always interfering opinion into their conversation.

That piece of crap he’s driving is going to blow up and kill my daughter. Why haven’t you gotten rid of that piece of farting junk? When you marry my daughter you won’t be allowed over here driving that piece of shit, Ressler groused.

Bill Ressler really wasn’t concerned about his daughter’s safety, he was more worried that someone might personally associate Cody’s old rust bucket with him.

Cody looked up and shrugged as if to say, too bad fat ass, that's the only car I can afford for now.

Bill Ressler continued to badger Cody with his intrusive snide comments and