tg within

tg within
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Chicago, Illinois,
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New Year New Attitude! All words and art contained here within this blog are the sole property of tgwithin (c) copyright 2013. Most are my own. But I love to share, just ask me.

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APRIL 12, 2011 9:12AM

The Trappage

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Chapter Twenty – The Trappage

trap

Skip eagerly placed a few calls after Alex left. One call was to his I.T. buddy Scott. A forensic geek who worked for the government. They had met on a previous job and quickly discovered their love of baseball over a few cool ones. Scott was great at jail breaking cell phones and finding information on computers and lived in the hood just over on Briar Street. He would love this challenge especially since it involved good looking models.

Skip was sure he recognized two of the three men from Morpheus’ after searching the elite board. The connection with Olives’ agency, an easy starting point. Those calvin drawer shots were hard to forget and those dark smoldering eyes of the tall skinny Jew, delicious.

International Match proved to be more informative than expected. Not only did the low dark voiced Ian Meyer’s profile entice them but Scotty spotted his photography credits on several of the model cards. And then there it was, Meredith’s/Olive’s wet swim suit shot, half naked, naughty. “Looking for exciting times abroad.” Skip choked. “Look who shot this.” The picture credits, shot by Meyer.

 “Bingo!” Scott giggled. “Three down, the other four will be a cinch to track down now. You got yourself a man killer.”

A couple of beers later Scott traced the phone back to a Meredith Reedmith. The creepy message had come from Ian Meyer and was recorded just a few days earlier. It seems Ms. Reedmith’s address was the same as Elite Model Management in Paris. Skip bet they would find Ian Meyer along with the six other dead men from the blast on the passenger list arriving from Paris last week. He had Scott check the Airbus arrivals. Unfortunately he was dead right. Before leaving he invited Scott to join the party for tapas tomorrow, promising an interesting if not, arresting meal.

 “Donald, Hi it’s Oneiros. I got your number from Jon at Morpheus’…ya, I was there. Pretty lucky…You OK?… I know…I’m sorry. I didn’t know Sam but I’ve known Iky for a few years now. How is everyone else?...yah… I was wondering if I could get your thoughts about the whole evening. Have you had a chance to speak to the rest of the staff?...Oh…Well, I’m working on this story and wondered if you and Tim would like to come over tomorrow evening to talk about it. Share some notes… Great. 6:00pm 1011 North Lakeshore. Just let the doorman know you’re there for Alex Nahim. See you then.”

The extra guests would serve well as diversions, giving him time to pick through Olive’s apartment. He hurried back to shower, anxious to see Alex again. This twisted trap simmered and he couldn’t wait to serve up his findings. He sipped into his own calvins and pulled on his shoulder harness. The late afternoon sunlight electrified his wet hair from behind as he studied his image in the mirror. He still had it… but there was something else. After carefully bandaging his toe he pulled on a clean pair of jeans and the soft leather drivers. His appetite was ravenous for now the trappage had turned.

 

copyright 2011 tgwithin

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I am so intrigued that these characters are so real. There is no wasted action, no fumbling. Is all this really playing out so vividly in your imagination?
/R
I like the way the story is developing! Good work.