The Devil Owns the Night Ch. 06

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Adversary rears its head ... at his front door.
7.1k words
4.26
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Part 6 of the 7 part series

Updated 10/31/2022
Created 10/23/2011
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dsoul
dsoul
1,233 Followers

Blondie sat alone with himself in a nondescript Chevy parked a couple of houses from where Thaddeus's apartment building was, observing things through his side-view mirror. His pistol was tucked in his waistband and his hand wouldn't stop touching it while he sat there burning one cigarette after another. Its cold touch seemed somewhat comforting to him. That and the thought of whom he was going to use it upon hopefully before the day was over.

He knew the bastard was indoors—he had seen the woman arrive and the fact that she didn't leave meant that he was in there. Blondie had been contemplating for the past half hour whether he should march in there and surprise him. Yeah, he reckoned the bastard wouldn't be expecting him to appear before his doorstep so suddenly. Blondie had taken quite a joy smashing his living room furniture last night. He'd imagined he'd knocked the bastard down somehow and tied him to a chair and made him watch as he went about breaking every bit of furniture he could, and when he was done, using the baseball bat he'd held on the son-of-a-bitch's knees. That certainly would have taken the cake. Watch the black punk yell and squeal for mercy as he broke every bit of bone in him.

He sucked on his forth cigarette and flicked it out the window. Less than a minute later he was itching for another only to discover too late his pack was empty. He muttered a groan of disappointment as he squeezed the cigarette pack and his eyes then happened to glance at his side mirror and he sat up immediately when he noticed Thaddeus's Coup DeVille easing out his driveway. Blondie pulled his gun out of his waistband and lowered himself in his seat, still keeping his eyes on the side mirror to see in which direction the bastard was turning to. Thaddeus turned his car to the left and drove towards him. Blondie's head was two inches from his car door's window frame and he was cradling his gun in both hands when he heard the unmistakable sound of Thaddeus's ride passing him. He counted to ten before inching his head up. Thaddeus's drove past an intersection before taking a right turn away from his view. Blondie sat there drumming his thumbs on his steering wheel, wondering if he should give chase or not. He didn't want the bastard to see him coming; he was apt to do that if he went after him.

He took his hands off his steering wheel. Best thing to do is wait for whenever he returns home. In the meantime, he needed some cigarettes.

***

Sunday was Roger Norris's day of rest, and always he sought to enjoy it as much as he would. He worked as a commodities manager for a clearing house firm, a job that took him away from the office much days of the week. The reason being that he wanted to be as far away from Sylvia and their quiet home in Glendale Heights as much as he could. Except on weekends, most especially Sunday; Saturday he played golf with some of his work buddies down at the Glendale Club. Lots of gin and whiskey, and plenty of time to talk about their other favourite subjects—young, randy women and of getting away with them for the weekend. Once there'd been a time when he and Sylvia spent such days in bed talking about their sexual fantasies. Ever since she started chasing black cocks, the days had gotten less till presently they never indulged in it anymore.

It was early evening. He was ensconced in his study room watching a porn movie and jerking his cock in rhythm to what was taking place in the picture when he heard a sound coming from downstairs. He reached for the remote and paused the interracial sex tape he was watching and pulled up his shorts and straightened his t-shirt and then hurried out of his study as if the room had suddenly caught fire. He could hear footsteps from downstairs.

"Who's there?" he stopped at the stair rail looking down.

Sylvia's head came into view and she waved at him. "Hiya, honey," she said to him. "Hope you don't mind, I brought a friend along who'd like to talk to you."

"The hell are you talking about?" Roger grumbled, even though he was already trooping down the stairs to see what mystery stranger she'd brought to the house this time. The fuck was the bitch up to this time? Always she was dreaming of new ways to torture him, coming home with one or two sex partners and never allowing him the chance to watch. She loved tormenting his this way, complaining about being nervous when he had to be there to watch what they did to her. She much preferred telling him afterwards, and that he didn't like. It was the reason why he spent much of his days avoiding the sight of her. To think that once they'd both being happy with the lifestyle. Now all that had changed, and for what?

He came down the flight of stairs, fuming that he'd been interrupted with what he'd been watching upstairs as now his cock was back to its deflated self. Usually it took him a lot of work to be erect again. He was forty-five years old, no longer the sturdy fellow he once was when he wedded Sylvia. She was standing by the living room entrance with a serene look on her face, almost as if she knew he would be mad at her for returning home so quickly. He was about yelling at her when he noticed they weren't alone. A tall black man stood in the living room. Clean-shaved head, looking smart and debonair in a jacket and coat, holding a hat in his hand. He looked handsome and very different from the young black men he'd seen Sylvia with. This one didn't seem to have a street-smart mentality about him, though there was something dangerous about him. Roger couldn't put his finger to it, but he sensed it. Something about the man's aura made him sort of ... larger.

"Good evening, Mr. Norris," Thaddeus smiled as he came forward and shook hands with him. "My name's Thaddeus Black. I'm a private investigator your wife here hired to search for your missing daughter."

Roger shook his hand and turned to his wife, momentarily lost for words.

"Sylvia, what do you—"

"He's here to get Kayla back for us, Roger. Maybe you don't care about Kayla anymore, but I do. He's got something he wants to show to you, so please be a dear and help him out." she steered her husband to a couch and Thad sat across from him. She said she would be back with drinks and left them together. Thad waited till Sylvia had left the room totally before turning to her husband.

"Roger—I hope you don't mind my calling you that—there's something I need to explain to you first, and I hope you're not going to flip out on me once I do. First thing I want you to know is I am a genuine investigator, and your wife really did hire me less than an hour ago to get your daughter back safe and sound, and that's what I'm here for. But in order for me to do that, I'm going to need your cooperation on this."

Whatever bit of puzzlement that had mapped Roger's face when he shook hands with Thaddeus went out the window after he'd made his introduction as to why he was here. Finally, he thought to himself, a black man stopping by to talk about Kayla. "Whatever you need, sir. I'll do what I can to help."

Thad produced the purple velvet cloth from his coat pocket and gave it to him. "I found this inside a safe box under your daughter's bed, in the apartment room she stays close to the U. Would you mind clueing me in as to what was inside it?"

"Sure, a diamond collar," said Roger, feeling the pouch cloth in his hand. "I gave it to Kayla when I brought Elsa home with me."

At that moment, Sylvia walked in to join them carrying a tray filled with wine glasses. "I hope you don't mind a little gin and tonic, Thad," she gave him a glass after dropping the tray on the centre table. "This happens to be Roger's favourite, isn't it, darling?" she gave Roger a second glass. He muttered thanks then took a sip. She went and sat across from them, crossed one leg over the other. Both men couldn't help cutting eyes at her figure, admiring what they saw, the way her jeans hugged her ample thigh. Sylvia took a sip of her wine before noticing their staring eyes. As if embarrassed by her presence, they turned to face each other.

"The collar was a gift," Roger mentioned. "From my friend, Oliver."

"Oliver?" Sylvia exclaimed, sitting forward. "You never told me it was from Oliver Gladstone?"

"Yes, I never did tell you it was from Ollie," he said irritably, "now you know." He turned to face Thad. "Oliver's an old friend, we go way back in college. I did a business favour for him last year and since then he'd been talking about doing something grand for me. He bought me a sail boat and then got me Elsa and the diamond collar as a present for Kayla. Wouldn't have sounded good if I told her whom it all came from, you know what I mean?"

"I do indeed, sir. I suspect that collar was the reason for whomever took your daughter to still be holding her. You haven't by any chance received any such calls from anyone claiming to have kidnapped her, have you?"

He shook his head. "No, none at all. matter of fact, I was going to call the police this afternoon after my wife," he aimed a thumb at Sylvia's direction, "told me what had happened. But then she told me she would handle it, whatever that meant. I guess she was referring to you. But I've still got my doubts."

"By right you should, sir. I won't be surprised if the cops happen to pay you a visit between now and tomorrow. They ought to have already, unless the investigator's still bothered about my presence in the case. If in any chance the cops do visit you, I'd really appreciate it if you kept my name out of your talk, that's if they ask if I've been here, I mean."

"But why? I thought they'd be happy to know that—"

It was Thad's turn to shake his head. "No, they won't, sir. Cops and private investigators never go hand in hand. And with this case, the lead investigating cop, Snyder, isn't exactly happy hearing my name wherever he goes. He'd liable to throw the book at me if he even catches a whiff of my presence here. Though I'm curious, if neither of you called the police, then who did?"

Neither had the answer. Thaddeus decided to keep that to himself for now. He asked about his friend Oliver Gladstone, and if he could furnish him with the man's phone number so he could make out time to talk with him.

"Ollie's never the sort who enjoys meeting people he isn't familiar with," said Roger, "but I'll get you're his number. Just wait here." He jumped out of the couch and ran up the stairs. He wasn't gone for long when he returned with his cell phone and called out his friend's number for him. Thad saved the man's number in his phone then picked up his glass and finished his drink.

"I'd best be off now," he said to both of them, and shook hands with Roger once again. "You've been very helpful, sir. I can't thank you enough."

Roger wasn't expecting his departure so soon and looked at Thad pensively as he shook his hand. He held it in his grasp a few seconds longer. "You're leaving just like that? So soon? I thought—" his eyes flashed to Sylvia then back at Thad with a questioning look as if someone was playing a prank on him and he was yet to get the butt of the joke.

Thad too caught his staring eyes and was about enquiring what was wrong when Sylvia stepped forward and disconnected their handshake at the same time pushing her husband back and smiling at him.

"It think it's about time we let the investigator here go about his job, don't you, darling?" there was a sternness to her voice which made her husband capitulate with a moaning sigh. He took back his hand and lowered his face like a child who'd just been humbled by someone far superior than him.

"Yeah, I suppose so," he muttered. "Goodbye, sir. Hope you drop by some other time."

Thaddeus allowed Sylvia to lead him out of the house. He didn't say anything until they were outside standing beside his car. The sky was a dark shade of red mixed with grey. A flock of birds travelled high above their heads in a V format, their wings flapping almost in unison.

"What was that about back there?" he asked.

"Don't mind my sweet husband. He loves it whenever I bring home any black lover, be it a lover or not, though he as well hates it. He thought you were one of them and that we were going to get it on and he wanted to be there to watch."

Thad couldn't help but laugh. "Looks like you've got him on a tight leash," he remarked.

"But I have to," she joined him in laughing. "It keeps him on his toes that way. He loves it when I cuckold him though whenever he'd done cumming, he gets upset and angry. I'll bet you he's upstairs right now jerking off to you and I standing here."

"How well does he know about Kayla? Have you told him about it?"

She shook her head. "I've been meaning to, but I don't know yet how he might take it. I figured that was something best for her letting him on than me. You have to understand, I'm not that happy about Kayla turning into a younger version of me, but it's her life and her choice."

"Her life and her choice, but something tells me you enjoy seeing her getting involved in it."

She shrugged then laughed. "I'm only human, Thad. What else can I say. I only pray nothing terrible has happened to her."

"We've got our fingers crossed on that, let's keep it that way. I'd better be running off and check on a few leads. Whatever I get, I'll let you know."

He opened his car door about to jump in but Sylvia beat him to it. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and gave him a deep, passionate kiss. The outside lights were bright enough to showcase them holding each other while they continued kissing. From his study window upstairs, Roger watched his wife kiss the private investigator, and just as what she'd earlier said, he had his cock in his hand and was stroking it furiously while watching them, keeping his face hidden from sight should they turn to look up at his direction. Sylvia was gasping and breathing hard by the time she let go of his lips.

"I wish you didn't have to leave," she said while holding his shirt collar. "I wish none of this had happened so we could have ourselves a good time right now."

"All in good time," said Thad, giving her hand a kiss before stepping into his car. He turned on his headlights and reversed his Coupe out her driveway. She waved at him as he drove off. He did the same too.

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

What next? What the fuck was next?

That was the question knocking on Thad's head as he drove back home. Where next did he start from? Lots of questions and very few answers. A hot, sexy damsel gets taken from her bedroom/apartment—kidnapped, if he was to use the appropriate word—while yours truly got his head knocked from behind and passed out too quickly to know what else had happened. A secret safe under her bed that formerly housed a cat's diamond collar kept inside a pouch bag. Your truly wakes up and discovers the secret safe, but no diamond collar inside. Was it stolen? The thought nagged at his head. The way his hands squeezed the steering wheel while his brow knotted in concentration at the question told him he hadn't yet figured that part out. Whoever the assailant of last night had been ... he'd definitely found that safe. But had he taken what was inside? If he had, then where was Kayla? Where did she fit into this?

Thaddeus was racking his brain for answers as he drove into his street. Had he driven through the north side, there's fifty percent chance he would have spotted and recognised Blondie seated behind the wheel of his parked Chevy, still waiting for his return home. But as it was, Thad drove into his street from the south, thus didn't take note of Blondie, or of the black car that was parked across from his apartment building. Inside the car were three hoodlums. They too had been there for some time now awaiting his return. They had missed his departure or else nothing would have kept them in the neighbourhood till such hour. The one seated behind the wheel who'd been keeping watch, tapped his colleagues as he recognised Thaddeus's car pull into his driveway.

Blondie checked his gun, made sure everything was okay with it while he glanced at his side mirror at the back of Thad's Coupe DeVille driving into his compound. He had earlier emptied his gun and was at the moment fixing the bullets back into the chamber, thus he missed the sight of two of the hoodlums whose car was parked two vehicles behind his leave their ride and hurry across the street towards the man whom they sought; one of them had his gun drawn out.

Thaddeus was just unlocked his front door when he heard the sound of hurrying footsteps coming at his left. He turned in time to see the dark men come up on him. One of them swung a fist at his head but he ducked it in time and threw a punch at him. Too late he heard a familiar click, followed by something metallic pressing against the back of his hat. He left the other assailant and raised his hands in surrender.

"How about we take things inside," the one with the gun said to him.

Thaddeus pushed his door open and stepped into his home with the two strangers coming behind. One of them found the light switch and turned it on. The one with the gun told Thad to fall to his knees. He did as ordered, still holding his hands in the air.

"Search him, John," said the leader.

The second came from behind Thad then bent down and swung a fist at his solar plexus. Thad doubled over, groaning from the punch, but the second man pulled his back up his knees and pushed his coat down to his elbows, locking back his arms. He reached for his holster and retrieved his .45 then allowed him to fall forward.

"Get in," the first man nudged him.

Thad pushed himself back to his knees. The second man grabbed the back of his coat and propelled him faster to his feet and pushed him towards his couch that faced the front of the apartment. Thad's arms were still caught tied with his coat so there was very little he could do. It wasn't until he'd settled down on the couch that he got a good look at his two visitors.

The two men were of average height, and both wore black overcoats and pants and black hats with black masks covering their eyes the sort that movie character Zorro wore. They looked like two pair of clowns who'd gotten lost from their clan and Thad would have bet his last money that they were amateur actors. They were they stood before him, trying to seem malevolent and imposing ... he felt almost like laughing. What killed the mirth from coming to his lips was the gun in the first one's hand that was pointed down at his head. The second held his gun in his hand; at least he wasn't pointing it at him too. A good thing they hadn't gotten to tying him up. He still had his legs and he wished one of them would get any closer so he could use it.

There was the distant sound of a car horn but neither person in the room paid it any mind.

"If its money you guys want, you'll just have to wait around till next week," he said it as if not minding the situation he was in. in a way he didn't. It wasn't the first time he was having a gun pointed at his head, and if he had a crystal ball right there and then to see into his future—however long or short it might be—it wouldn't be the last time.

"Shut up!" the first one, the ring leader, snapped at him. "We're not here for any of your fucking money. You know what we're here for."

Thad shook his head. "I'm sorry, you lost me at 'hello'."

The ring leader brought the gun to his head. "You still wanting to be a smart ass, private eye?"

The second one chuckled at this and said to no one, "Smart ass, private eye. Get it?"

"Shut it, Kellogg!" snapped his friend. He muttered a curse for calling out his colleague's name. Thad caught it too, happy that at least now he had something to go on against these two clowns. What was left now was them leaving him alive.

dsoul
dsoul
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