Estranged!

By William Malic

Private Detective Sam Bittner takes on another case. Seemingly routine, the case soon turns into a convoluted series of events involving not only Sam and his quarry but innocent people thrust into undeserved accusations challenging their integrity. Sam faces his on moral dilemma as he unravels the mystery perplexing his relationship with his wife and the dedicated members of his staff. There is even a surprise ending. It's an age old story of greed, power and deceit with twists and turns confounding a host of delightful characters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Sep 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312513389

Book preview

Estranged!

Estranged!

By William Malic

Prelude

Private Detective Sam Bittner was first introduced in Kidnapped.  After solving the high-profile case where scores of woman from super-rich families were kidnapped and a cross country search for their whereabouts propelled his already blossoming practice into a much sought after security and detective agency he again is call upon to solve another case involving one of society’s riches families.  This time he has a partner and wife.  He met Serena when she was one of the women he rescued.  The fell in love and now she is his partner in both business and life.  The next novel in the Series was Raped.  Again a high profile client engages the firm to investigate the alleged rape of a daughter of one of the richest men in America.  The partnership runs into a number of dead ends but perseverance and some undercover work by Serena eventually unravels the mystery.  If you liked Kidnaped or Rape you will enjoy this mystery.  Even if your have not read the first novels this one will stand alone.  However you may consider getting a copy of Kidnapped or Raped, available in e-book through your favorite distributor.

Enjoy,

William Malic

Chapter 1 -- Daisy’s Place

Your breasts are like two fawns, like twin fawns of a gazelle that browse among the lilies (Song of Songs 4:5).

When she first appeared stillness flooded the air in the room; all the life giving ether nearly vanished and breathing became suffocating.  The din of the assembly dissolved into awed silence as if muted by her splendor.  Visual surroundings faded into oblivion and only her exquisiteness remained.  Though she was not near, her scent caressed gently; flaring nostrils drank in the ambrosia.  The world stopped its revolution, pausing to meditate, stealing from her a secrete flash of pleasure. A burst of saliva drenched the dry throat and soothed the burn; savoring her spice.  Skin prickled and the weapon of man produced maypoles of so enormous a standard that proportions made him a giant.  All eyes followed her movement as if they were glued to her body. Irises contracted, widening the diameter of the pupils they protected to enable focusing, on mandate from the visual cortex of the brain, demanding not to be extracted from her frame.

The virile of the species is naturally attracted by there senses, aroused like stallions detecting the heat of a mare.  In her presence even lesser men reach magnitudes before unknown.  Perfectly well turned and fashioned, she invoked a proud stiffness which distended its skin, whose smooth polish and velvet softness seeks to vie for possession of this the most delicate of the sexes. Those previously pledged to another forget their vow, preoccupied with the spectacle of a resurrected Venus.  Her own kind, realizing inferiority, begrudge her, yet equally engrossed admired her prowess.  An uncontrollable urge for engagement in an abomination, barely suppressed, awakens latent longings within their groins.

Females gravitated towards this vision of perfectionism, hoping by association to gather for themselves the leavings she casts upon the sea of disappointment were many sailors exist in eternal despair. Like the Sirens of Greek mythology, she is dangerous yet beautiful. Portrayed as femme’s fatales they lured nearby sailors with their enchanting music and voices to shipwreck on the rocky coast of their island. Who knows how many have met the fate of those who dare sail near her outskirts.

Males remain quarantined in the dimness of shadows fearing rejection, yet dreaming of conquest. Out of duty, her approach to the patrons is familiar and cordial but there is aloofness apparent for she knows she is superior to their kind.  There was no one here capable of eliciting a paroxysm for her pleasure.  She exists in a plane few if any might attain.  Elevated above all others in an atmosphere of supremacy, there is a hint of absolute loneliness.

Daisy’s Place is the emblematic model of the typical corner sports bar, reflecting it rural roots yet infused with the sophistication of an urban gathering place for casual drink and food.  Primarily frequented by locals it boasted an eclectic mix of clientele, occasionally drawing in visitors from afar because of its reputation for serving delicious meals along with a wide selection of beer, wine and spirits.  It was also famous for its festive atmosphere and its attractive servers.  Daisy, named in honor of her great-grandmother and name sake of the establishment, was an elderly matron always on alert for anyone not adhering to her strict rules.  The female staff was carefully chosen personally for their eye-candy appeal but was only for looking at. 

Allowing abundant visual entertainment for those so inclined the young ladies were not indecently presented.  In many ways it was a throwback to the days of speakeasies without the illegality of prohibition; classified appropriately as a retro bar in the modern lexicon.  Beautiful women have always augmented the bar’s scenery adorned in suitable fashion for the new age.  Flawless complexions, curvaceous bodies and friendly smiles were requirements for consideration for employment.  They didn’t rely on bare torsos, shorty shorts or tilted kilts to arouse interest.  The augmentation of a bevy of pretty next door types added to the allure but only as an appreciated add-on to the menu which itself was an amalgamation of typical bar room fare and good old fashion cooking.

The newest hired girl was definitely an upgrade to an already attractive work force.  As such she was relegated to remain behind the bar, a mere precaution from the potential of over exuberance she was surely to elicit.  Daisy had no reservations for the girl’s ability to engage the customers and keep them coming back or remaining long after they might have retired to their residences.  Putting temptation too close however always concerned her.

From the reaction by the two dozen or so clients in the bar when she arrived it was evident she would be the center of attraction, thus her position on the main stage so all might benefit from the aura she exhibited. Daisy had a knack for marketing.  The bar had been in the family for generations, surviving recessions, wide spread lay-offs in the area and intrusion by so called chain establishments catering to the in crowd.  Adaptation in any business was essential to maintain market share.  The one thing constant at Daisy’s was its attraction of hot food and just as hot waitresses.  A kiss from the god’s of fate, Daisy engaged one of the hottest.

The new girl dressed uniquely from the rest to further enhance her role; that of gracing the center ring in a circus of glamor and pleasant friendly hometown hospitality.  She was the only one wearing a dress.  The vibrant teal blue fabric hugged her body like a custom made glove.  Not too short but sufficient to reveal nylon clad legs that would make any man swoon; the dresses intense hue instantaneously drew every eye in its direction.  Like a homing beacon, the color, the tight fit and the luscious occupant attracted individuals otherwise preoccupied with their mundane lives.  To add to the allure the low cut bodice, revealing a nice portion of her amble bosom, was accented by a necklace embellished with three rather large ruby medallions which contrasted nicely with the woman’s milky white chest.  If the short hem line wasn’t enough the upper body exposure was sure to rivet the gaze of the most discerning.  Not to be trumped, any higher gaze was rewarded as an inordinate amount of time could be well spent admiring her flawless face and natural pale blond hair.  At first glance there were no imperfections to be found; no matter how many times she was observed and however deeply she was scrutinized.

Sam Bittner eyed the beauty, joining the chorus of other patrons seeking her attention.  Sam had a well-developed discerning eye for feminine beauty.  In Sam’s own business, Security Services, LL an exclusive security and private detective agency, he surrounded himself with good-looking people.  Sam was in marketing as well.  The most attractive of course was his wife, Serena.  In his eyes she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever met.  This girl however challenged his perception; she was stunning.

A brief moment of conscious guilt shadowed his thoughts.  The very idea that the woman might be prettier than Serena ate at Sam.  She was a bit younger and definitely was gorgeous but to think she was superior in beauty was unsettling.  He was not immune to the allures of other women yet he had always managed to find something that assured him they did not stack up to his bride.  Maybe it was a defense but he convinced himself it was because other women really didn’t measure up.  This girl however was definitely giving him second thoughts.  He almost blushed realizing she had awaken a part of his anatomy that he had pledged only to the woman he loved.  As a younger man Sam would have had no reservations in pursuing his fantasy.  Sam was sure of his ability to seduce any woman if he put his mind to it.  He had been a sex-hound in his earlier days, but now he had all he wanted.  Sam sighed.  He was glad now that he had not taken Serena along. His assignment, undercover recognizance, left no time for his addressing his own needs.  He smirked.  Going to bed tonight was not going to be easy.  If only he had brought Serena along.

Sam knew the girl’s age; she was not at all too young for him.  Many women like slightly older men.  The thought of older bothered him.  He was still in his prime, but seeing a young woman like this made him aware he wasn’t getting any younger.  He had to suppress the urging his groin insisted on reminding him he was a man.  He needed to divert his attention.  Looking around he concentrated on the other patrons in the bar.  There was no doubt they were equal entranced.  Every eye seemed focused on the barmaid, even the women among the crowd.  One particular guy appeared almost in distress as he tried to enjoy his meal but his mouth kept gaping open.  Another man was constantly wiping his mouth with his napkin every time he took a drink of a draft with much of the frothy ale dribbling down his chin.  ‘Men are such pigs,’ Sam thought.  That was Serena’s favorite line, particularly when she caught him looking.  Serena was an angel; she put up with him without too much complaining.  If she were here she would have laughed at him.  Maybe she would be infatuated too.  Sam had never thought Serena would be attracted to a woman in that way but from the looks on some of the female clienteles’ faces, the barmaid did not only turn on males.  They couldn’t all be lesbians.

‘What a bunch of ninnies,’ Sam thought to himself.  Every man in the place was slobbering over her but no one dared to approach her.  Of course she was working; though mildly flirtatious she definitely was not soliciting.  Still, some of these guys could have at least tried.  Sam’s gaze was interrupted by an elderly lady circulating on her rounds.  Her intimidating shadow darkened his corner of the bar.  ‘I get it," Sam thought, ‘no problem lady, I am only looking.’  The elderly lady gave him a slight smirk and moved on.  ‘That must be the pit bull.’

Sam was on business and he knew he had to keep low key.  He had purposefully chosen a seat in one end of the L-shaped bar where he could see most of the room.  He didn’t strike up any conversations and avoided direct eye contact.  The only person he repeatedly looked at was the barmaid which didn’t cause any alerts.  Everyone else was doing the same.

‘Business is business,’ Sam thought trying not to grin too observably.  He returned to applying his trained observation skills to the barmaid.  Something didn’t seem quite right.  She understandably knew people were staring at her.  That was part of her job description.  She was talented and worked it very well.  When she moved in close to a patron and asked if he needed a refill she always managed to lean over to arrange something on the bar or rinse a glass.  The bodice of her dress gaped slightly and the response was always ‘fill it up’.  They were feeling her up with their eyes.  She remained blank faced and lingered long enough for the full effect.  She appeared innocent but Sam suspected she was far from it.

Sam perceived she did appear a bit self-conscious and was often seen to be rearranging the skirt of her dress with her hands to coax the hemline back down.  The material tended to ride up on her stockings.  She wasn’t too obvious, taking care never to bend over too much but from his angle he couldn’t help but take delight in the favors her dress was allowing.  Sam knew she saw eyes popping every time she moved.  In a way she appeared to be choreographing her movements but it was not instinctive.  She hid her disdain well.  Sam was a trained observer.  She was engaged in only business; not something she particularly enjoyed.  The girl did have an air of superiority to the rest, yet he sensed she did not see herself as they did.  She might have even been amazed that others saw her so alluring.  She could have a slight feeling of inadequacy.

Hi, cowboy, the woman was suddenly in front of Sam.  He had not noticed while in his dream state.  You look lonely tonight.  Is there anything I can get you?

Sam grasped his glass, more to steady his nerves than anything else.  I am afraid that I couldn’t afford it.  She looked at him innocently cocking her head.  I mean I have to nurse this one a little more, Sam added, maybe later.

She gave him a pout.  You look thirsty to me.  Bending over the barmaid rinsed a glass.  Sam peered down her blouse.  She had the most perfect breasts he had ever seen.  There was enough a gap to make him fantasize of what was lower.  Looking up she smiled, still keeping bent over.  Tell you what I can do, you came in after the two for one special earlier but I’ll give you another one on the house.  She finally straightened and adjusted her skirt.  Sam’s eyes followed her every movement.  Looking sheepishly in the direction of the owner she whispered, It will be our little secret, she cooed.  The warden is watching.  You’ll have to pay for the next one.  You understand?  Sam nodded.   Turning to the side she drew a draft.  I am so glad to see a man drinking the real stuff.  I just hate those guys who order Lite beer.  I always said if you are going to drink beer at least make it the best.  You like the best don’t you?

Sam felt himself feeling light headed, I suppose you are the best?

She seemed a bit startled.  Thinking before she spoke, A girl has to do what a girl must these days.  Be careful, like I said the warden is watching.

Sam grinned.  He raised his glass and tipped to the matron.  I know my place.  Sam returned to the bar maid, I do think you are the best though."

The barmaid didn’t respond but sidled to another customer fixing her dress once more.  Sam had seen enough for now.  He could not chance any further exchange with the girl.  He paid his bill and left a hefty tip.

Chapter 2 -- Business

Sam Bittner was waiting for the next client.  He had herd of the man but never had the pleasure to meet him.  Sam ran among some pretty lofty circles and was not at all intimidated by the wealthy.  He made a good living, but than they were paying for the best and Sam was the best.  They also paid for anonymity.  Whatever was on this client’s mind it must have been something no other security firm could offer.  He had run a background check on the man.  Sam didn’t like surprises.

The extension rang and Mary, his assistant, informed him of his potential client’s arrival.  Sam was in his private office, his man-office as he called it.  They would meet in the conference room.  No one was allowed in his office, except Mary and with reluctance his wife Serena.  The private entrance to the conference room allowed him to slip in before Mary escorted the man to the well-appointed official office.  Good afternoon, Mr. Sullivan, Sam greeted