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Chapter 13: Triple trickery



No matter how much she wanted to, Moe wasn't able to prematurely terminate her promotion job in Italy. Talking to Pete on the phone, she noticed how much the leaking of his very private pictures - which, in fact, had been taken for her eyes only - affected him.

Right after landing at her home airport, she hurries to pick up her luggage and then towards the taxi stands.

Peter needs me like never before. I'm coming, Pete. Don't worry, I'm there for you.





She won't tell me who she suspects, who does she think she is? It's my life she's putting in jeopardy here. Haven't I suffered enough?! Don't I have the right to know who's turning my life into a living hell?! The inside of Pete's head is a track with dozens of self-pitying thoughts driven by anger and despair racing in circles, each of them fighting to be come in as the first.

The shower in the small bathroom adjacent to Kirsh's room is running; as long as he hears the water he's good. He throws the pack of loose sheets aside, they flutter apart as they slowly float towards the floor. The man grabs a middle-sized hard-covered notepad and starts flicking through it.

The shower stops. He pauses for a moment and freezes in his current position, crouching on the floor, bending over the detective's dark bag. A few seconds later the water rushes again and he sighs in relief. I must find her list of suspects, I know she wrote one.

During the last few days Pete has asked Kirsh at least once a day to tell him who she thinks is responsible for the mess he's in. He begged, he demanded, he screamed, with a calm and almost seductive voice he tried to elicit cleverly. Never did she yield to his wish to share her suspicions.

He has just so much patience and even though he realizes he's not acting a lot better than his stalker, he's going through her stuff, trying to get ahold of the list of suspects that he saw her studying the other day. Frustrated, he tosses the notepad back into the bag.

He collects the paper that lies scattered on the floor and just when he's about to leave the guestroom before the officer notices he was there, his eyes fall on a little black book on the woman's nightstand.

Pete doesn't think long and walks towards it. Sitting down on the bed, he picks it up. There's a small red ribbon attached to the cover that holds a place between the pages. Carefully the man pulls it out and opens the book on the marked spot.

That moment he feels a finger tapping on his right shoulder.

"Mr. Wentz, would you mind handing me my calendar in which I mark my monthly cycle? Thank you."

In shock, Pete drops the black book and shots up from the bed. Behind him is Krish, clad in a dark bathrobe, a towel wrapped around her wet hair. She holds out her hand in expectation of her calendar.

Embarrassed, he quickly picks it up and hands it to her, "Sorry..."

Just now he becomes aware that the shower is still running. The officer notices him listening to the water.

Fucking cunning cop.

Upon turning around, the female smirks to herself. There's nothing like turning the tables and tricking them who think they're outwitting you. She turns off the shower and returns to her bedroom where the bassist seems to be rooted to the spot.

"You were looking for my confidential notes, I suppose," Kirsh sneers at him jokingly.

She's not mad, she expected this. The feeling of having been able to foretell somebody else's next step is incredibly genial to a certain breed of people, and the detective is one of them. In fact, this is probably one of the several reasons why she's with the police. Foreseeing people's actions is part of the job, and a lot of the time lives depend upon your correct assumption, frequently even your own.

Pete isn't actually sorry that he went through her belongings in search for the information he deserves to be given. He's only disappointed that she caught him red-handed. And I don't even have anything to show for it. He doesn't know more now than he did before.

The man throws himself on the bed, his back crashing on the mattress. He places a hand over his eyes and starts rubbing them. "I shouldn't have done this," he slowly pronounces. It comes out a bit muffled due to his hand in his face.

"No," Kirsh agrees. She refrains from making a bad joke about actually being able to arrest him for interfering with an officer's affairs, not to mention invasion of personal privacy. It's highly probable the the last point would strike a tender spot with the man.

Strained breathing reaches her ears. God, he's not crying now, is he?

As Pete removes his hand from his face she doesn't see any tears but he's visibly in the doldrums. Kirsh walks around the bed and sits down next to where he's lying.

"Listen, Pete, don't give up now," she hesitates for a moment but then pats his thigh clumsily a few times. "Any day now she's gonna make a mistake and then we'll catch her."

At her touch he sits up, props himself up with his arms.

"You really think so?" the bassist asks hopefully.

Adrienne turns her face towards him and looks him deep into the eyes to reinforce her words, "I am confident."

Just when the man is about to say something in reply, to express his doubt, the couple is interrupted by a piercing shriek.

"And what's going on HERE?" Moe stands in the doorframe, her bags dropped on the floor left and right of her, her hands on her hips. The female's eyes are angrily staring at the detective.

"Moe! I am so glad you're back!" Pete squeals and hurries towards her.

"Don't," she raises the palm of her hand in defense. "Don't touch me, Pete."

"What? Why?" the man asks confused.

"WHY? I just caught you in bed with your so-called bodyguard or whatever she is supposed to be... "

Behind them Kirsh snorts amused. The girl's going to be the death of me.

"I can assure you, Ms. Sommer," the officer gets up from the mattress, "that Mr. Wentz's and my relationship is strictly profe-"

"Oh, shut your hole, you sly... WHORE! You think I don't notice how you look at him? I am not blind for God's sake!" Moe's cheeks are red with anger. "Your relationship is way past 'professional'!"

The young female could slap herself that she told Pete to give the police officer a chance. She should have gotten rid of her right from the start; now it would be even more difficult.

"Excuse me?!" Krish narrows her eyes at the furious girlfriend.

"Moe!" is all that Pete manages to get out.

The model points a finger at the detective, "I will report you to your boss. He should know what kind of cop you are... Lying in bed with the person you're supposed to protect, in a bathrobe. God, who KNOWS what you two were up to before I arrived!"

Pete wants to put a hand on her shoulder to make her calm down but she pushes him away, "Get away from me, Pete!"

Then she sobs loudly and runs down the hallway and down the stairs.

"I better check on her," the man's voice sounds apologetic. "You know this situation is hard on her as well."

"I understand," Kirsh nods in comprehension.

Pete leaves the room and follows Moe. He doesn't have the time to think about whether his girlfriend's accusations are in the slightest justified.





An hour later Pete has managed to convince Moe that there was nothing between him and Kirsh and that he's only interested in one woman.

"Didn't you see the happiness in my eyes when I saw you?" he asks her and pulls her in for a hug. "I'm so glad you're back, baby."

The female hugs him back, finally feeling better about the whole situation.

"It's just getting to me... all the time she's around you. It seems that we can't have a private moment to ourselves anymore. We can't even go out without her," Moranne whines.

"Who says that we can't?" her boyfriend smirks mischievously.

A few minutes later the two of them have sneaked out of the house and sit in Pete's car. Kirsh makes it downstairs and to the front door just in time to see the vehicle vanish behind the corner down the street.

"DAMN!" she yells.