Kolchak; The Nylon Stalker, Finale; Winking Out In Vegas. free porn video

KOLCHAK: THE NYLON STALKER. (Based upon characters created by Jeff Rice.) By Way Zim. FINALE; WINKING OUT IN VEGAS. August 4th, 2006 Cleveland, Ohio Karen Foster Klein's Journal; Let it be said it from the start, 'I'll miss that sweet old bastard.' Thanks to him, I'm stunning in my wedding dress, still waiting for Mom to fix her raccoon eyes before helping with my makeup. While handing her another tissue, I can't help but smile, thinking about Carl Kolchak's unintended contribution to this happy day. "Something Old, Something New." An Old Man who'd stepped into Something... or Someone, after an unfortunate act of Good Intent on my part, June of last year. But even as I; reportedly with no real recollection of my own demise, had fallen into an infinite void... Poor Carl had been thrust rudely into a shell of my former self. While he'd clearly been confused and guilt ridden, still the man felt determined to create something New. "Something Borrowed." He could have gone the way of many a 'Body Snatcher' in both Film and Fiction, using this female figure for selfish reasons. Instead; from my soon to be husband's reports, Carl went on to live the life I was meant to. At least he'd given it that 'Old College Try.' which endears him even more in my still foggy memories. I suppose that for some, I owe them a reasonable explanation, as to what part Carl had played in my eventual resurrection. But as much as credit is due, I'm still at a loss on how exactly to go about it. "Something Blue." I want everyone to know that I love my father, dearly. Yet I almost feel that Kolchak; in letting slip the hold he had on my annexed anatomy, had acted as a de-facto substitute. He'd given me away to a man, as seduced by his quality as that which I allegedly possess, and this future he bought us will be bright indeed. I'm sure of it. Still, just struggling to remember what I can about our adventures... Damn it! Now we have two women in need of a serious makeover. But this smudged mascara is a Good, as it serves to remind me of where I am and who ultimately got me here. A Note To Self, and any Potential Reader; The bulk of this text is, in effect, the last testament of Carl Kolchak, dedicated journalist and truth seeker. While I diligently edited some observations ( made just before the cross-over occurred. ) it's his voice which narrates most of our Las Vegas adventure, on about the 12th through to the 17th of May. May 11th, 2006. Cleveland, Ohio. Karen Klein's Journal; It was a night and day before my Bachelorette party in Sin City, standing just outside the airport security zone with my fianc?. Gale was saying her goodbyes to her husband, while I was still practicing. For his part in this affair, Prof seemed as bemused as I was with this whole couples thing, for which he had my eternal gratitude. If things had been weirder before, the months of normalcy which followed our betrothal in December were downright insane by comparison. OK, that's not exactly true, as almost a year ago I was another person - in fact, another sex. A very old man who; through an otherworldly set of circumstances, was reborn into the body of a former girlfriends' daughter. But since then I'd vowed to live her life well, in the hopes of reviving that tiny spark of memory, which the Gods preserved within this reconstituted form. This included the possibility of Love, though when it came it still shocked the hell out of this girl. My helper, my savior, The Professor, turned out to be Mr. Right after all. He'd been there for Karen, even before she'd met me. When Carl Kolchak eventually came to this rather randy mythologist; for help in being the best girl he could - well - this is how that ended. I'm not complaining, on the contrary I've never been happier. Nothing could have given me greater joy, until Gale, or as I've been calling her these days; Mom, revealed that she finally recognized the man behind these bright hazel eyes. It was a strange sort of Mother-Daughter bonding experience, and yet it only strengthened my resolve to see this quest through to the end. As for this spirit sister within our shared consciousness, she'd grown considerably since that rather vivid haunting during the past Christmas Season. For the present I still had control, but Karen usually figured on having the Last Word. Like now. "Get A Room, You Two." "If you don't mind missing your own party, sister of mine." I silently joshed my psychic sibling, wondering if the warmth I felt was from her or the firm manly hand at my back. "That's more for you and mom. I'm just along for the ride," Karen challenged rudely. It shocked me enough that our fianc? paused in his dedicated kissing, gazing quizzically into my soft eyes. "Girl Trouble?" "Something like that." I answered curtly, giving his fingers a loving squeeze, as inwardly I abstractly cocked an allegorical brow at her. 'But it'll be fine, once we get to Las Vegas." 'Speaking of which," Daniel cut in as he and Mom came up, holding hands like a couple of lovey-dovey teens. "You ladies should get going. Have fun, Princess, and I'll make sure Prof's kept busy until you get back." "Perfect." chuckled The Professor, before I flashed him a No Nonsense look which would've done Gale proud. Somehow; despite my dubious pedigreed, the goddess in me was coming out. She was wearing stiletto heels. Passing through the gate, I wondered if my still emergent twin was capable of being on the rag. It was just that; despite the amazing progress she'd made, we were far from equal. I think Karen was feeling somewhat frustrated. My own slightly morose musings was interrupted by the conspicuous buzzing of my cell, to which a few less than cordial old ladies glared at me as if I'd insulted their grandkids. I blushed, automatically switching over to Vibrate even as I checked the ID. It was my editor. "Dorothy?" I answered huffily, channeling Bridezilla as I realized where she was calling from... "Why are you in your office? Aren't you suppose to be catching a plane about now?" Dorothy Weller, editor extraordinaire with the syndicate which handled my columns, chuckled at this girls pouting tone. Apparently she'd gone down this road herself; Twice - in point of fact. The second time being the clincher that she liked the Single Life better. But still she readily agreed to serve as one of my maids... "I'm taking a later flight, hon," the less than matronly 44 year old responded with some annoyance, though not at her best girl. "I've been stuck doing a little house-cleaning here. "Do you recall those couple articles I asked you for? The restaurant pieces?" "Ah, those," I chuckled, giving a mocking expression to Gale over this long distance Hen-Peck from Dorothy. The restaurant expose was her idea of squaring the books between us, before we went off on this little shindig. It should've been a simple assignment; covering several local eateries which remained in operation, despite numerous citations against them. Where someone else would've simply recycled old reports about payola to certain unnamed public officials, I reverted to old habits... Kolchak's old habits, that is. In digging a bit deeper, I discovered a cooperative anonymous source to confirm a smoking gun. It concerned a mid level mob boss whose ambitions weren't as great as his rather kinky pastimes. As frightening a figure as he wished to be, let's just say that Miles Albert Kern sometimes wanted to be punished; like the bad little girl he was... "As much as I could pass by our lawyers, I let that rather flippant comment at the end stand," Dorothy told me. "But evidently, all the circumstantial evidence about Graft and Money Laundering; none was as damaging as the suggestion that -' In Lieu of mild litigious scolding by the Chicago courts, perhaps all Lil Millie needs is to be taken across his mothers knee.' 'I've done worse to less deserving people," I protested impishly, rather pleased that she'd allowed as much as she had. This largely uncontested trust between the two women, had given me more leeway than I'd ever had as Kolchak. "So, what's the problem?" "There might not be a problem, but for some scuttlebutt which a few friends within the FBI dropped on me. Miles apparently decided that now was the time to take a vacation..." "Well, good for him." I interrupted as Gale let me know our flight had just been called. "Maybe some time in the sun will ease that temper of his..." "You don't think the timing is too coincidental, Hon?" Dorothy shot back, mild worry underlying her usual laidback manner. "Miles does have a connection with Las Vegas, after-all." "And a place in the Caymans, a small condo in Miami... don't worry so much, Dorothy." I encouraged her while handing over my boarding pass to the waiting attendant. "I'm sure it'll all blow over and I don't want you missing any of the festivities because of this. Ok?" "I'll be there with bells on, then." she relented before my forceful enthusiasm, manufactured though it might have been. In the back of my mind, even Karen couldn't bring herself to believe that a blowhard like Miles would come after us. Not for a slight so off the cuff, it probably didn't even register with most of my readership. For the bulk of the flight, as I was distracted by Mom's babble about my last rite of single hood, Most of Dorothy's unease was all but forgotten. May 12th, 2006 Las Vegas, Nevada. Through the maddening bustle at McCarran International Airport, I easily spotted the brightly colored placard and its holder, a wickedly pleased Tanya Landers. With her Cheshire smile, my former college cohort pointed a finger down at the bold pink and purple script which read - 'Karen Foster Klein, A Lucky Witch At Last.' "Your ship finally came in, I see," she taunted me; on the heels of a serious hug which left her best friend gasping. A less damaging one was reserved for Gale as I countered playfully. "And you as well. I didn't think Amore del Mare sailed this far inland." "You'd be surprised." Tanya laughed, taking both our arms as she lead us toward the exit. "No, don't worry about your luggage. I asked Mario to collect it. He's likely putting it in the limo even now..." "A Limo... You've been busy," I quipped while the Public Relations agent made it out as no big deal. "Just part of The Service, sister. You think your Maid of Honor would do anything less for her best girl? Nothing but Style for the next four days, so loosen your corset. It's gonna be a wild ride." I wouldn't have figured Tanya to be The Mistress of Understatement, as in our distracted reverie we nearly collided with a couple loiters at curbside. Just two guys in loud shirts who I barely considered as we made our apologies. "Don't sweat it, lady," said the older man with a crooked little smirk. "You just go on... enjoy your party." Fans of Hindsight would be quick to note here, that after all I'd been through, one would've thought... Of course 'All I'd been through.' was hardly your average reporters lot, so perhaps when confronted by something so obscenely normal... Or, perhaps this bride to be was just too busy trying to have fun. It had been quite awhile for old Kolchak, more than thirty years since he'd left Sin City behind him. But what a difference three decades had made in the old whore, once just a few gaudy palaces plopped down amidst the dunes. The age of the mobster, and those rat pack vagabonds who gave the girl some shine, all that was gone, replaced by a far more glitzier yet darker force... The Corporate Entity. However jaded Carl had become in the face of all this High-Tech Extravagance, this girl was more than happy to sink back into the plush seating of our stretched Hummer, even as Tanya popped a bottle of Bubbly. "So, where are we going again?" "Only the hottest spot on the strip," she gushed. "The Montecito? I know The Host and she cut us a special deal. But that's not for you to worry about. I called in a bag load of favors, several left over from last July. "Let's just say that Amore del Mare has been very good to me." I had no doubt about that, having seen our Ms. Landers in action after that trouble aboard Amore del Mare II. But the exact nature of her deal with the owners? My loyalty and her confidentiality clause prevented me from questioning her too closely about that. We arrived in good time at this great burnished Shrine. At odd angles to either side of its unconventional fa?ade, The Montecito sported two wings which housed the tide of High and Low Rollers, who kept this resort afloat. We clambered out of our ride as gawking tourists, even old hands like Gale and I, our very young and quite fit driver conversing with a stylish young black man. Though his smooth dome was as polished as a billiard ball, the concierge worked it with a laidback confidence which definitely caught this woman's eye. Tanya knew him, and why not? Giving him a now patented Landers embrace. "Mike! It's been way too long, stud! What are you doing? Slumming?" "Ms. Landers... Oomph!" he exhaled cheerfully, happily bowled over by her greeting. "Nah. Just helping out in a pinch. But how about you? What's this? Shore Leave? Brought me back some sexy mermaids, did you?" "Ladies," she laughed. "I'd like you to meet Mike Cannon. He used to be the best valet on the strip until they bumped him upstairs. Now he's keeping a watchful eye over us in Security." 'I feel Safer already." I chuckled. "I'm Karen Klein, the victim of this Bachelorette Party. Too Bad for the both of us, I'm sure." "Karen Klein... Karen Klein. You're that reporter?" he responded with congenial interest. "You do Consumer Pieces?" "Don't worry, Mr. Cannon," I returned, mocking his own feigned alarm. "I'm sure the services here are beyond contest... aren't they?" "As in my case, absolutely," Mike assured me, though as an aside he couldn't help but poke fun at fellow employees. "For the rest, well, you'll have to talk to Sam about that. "She just got word that you ladies arrived and is waiting to greet you. Would you like me to show you the way?" "I would, but it looks like you got your hands full here," Tanya said, following up with a polite peck on his cheek. "Maybe if we both get some free time, you'll want to catch up?" "Absolutely," he answered, blushing shyly which made him even cuter. "But in any case, Welcome to Vegas!" I couldn't help but chortle at the oddity of that sentiment, since last time I'd been made less than Welcome by certain persons. Gale had a similar expression on her face, thinking the same thing as I, even as she idly took my out stretched hand... Thankfully, our fellow sister was oblivious to this little secret we kept, though I did feel guilty about that. Just a little bit - But she was Happy in her element, and as we entered the grand lobby Tanya squealed with girlish glee; which seemed than usual for my enthused girlfriend. When we were introduced to an insanely sexy brunette with dark mischievous eyes... well... perhaps such exuberance was indeed the right response. "I'm Samantha Marquez, Ladies," she greeted us with a polished familiarity which recalled Jacob Emerson Kane. This gal, however, made it sound a lot more sincere. "But for the rest of your stay, just call me 'Sam.' Uh Kay?" "Sam, I can't say how much I appreciate this..." "Uh huh," interrupted our hostess, switching gears in a flash as she turned all business. "So, while maybe you want to get to it, let's talk 'Turkey' shall we? "Tanya... Honey. Did you set up the arrangements we negotiated? For that - umm - 'Little Excursion' my client requested? Including that 'Special Surprise' mid-cruise?" "You sure make things hard for this gal..." Tanya bitched somewhat as her Casino counterpart rolled those dangerously stunning eyes. Sam shook her head with mocking dismay. "You know I don't want to be a Party-Pooper, but I was counting on you..." 'You're in, everything's Golden. Tell your boy not to worry, and that it'll all be in place by the time his entourage boards. So, are we Good?" "Oh, you are good." Sam giggled appreciatively, though as an afterthought. "Almost as Good as me, but..." "You wish," my friend declared to her rival, noting the printout in her slender grasp. "So, is that our itinerary?" "Yep," the hostess replied while I stood by with mouth agape, Karen whispering in my mind. "You guys worked a trade? With My Party?" my incredulous tone cut through their self congratulations. Tanya, at least, blushed a bit while Sam only tittered evilly. "Karen... I." "I guess we really are in Vegas." I snickered, letting Tanya off the hook - much to her relief. "So let's get this party started." Such was Business as Usual in Sin City. The Bet, The Deal, The Big Gamble; both Legit & Illicit, as commonplace as Breathing. It felt like Coming Home at long last. "When are the rest of the girls arriving?" Gale broke into my musings, still right beside me on my trip down memory lane. I looked to my Maid of Honor who dutifully consulted her Blackberry. "Both Rochelle and Natalie are coming in together. Jenny, not that far behind them, so they should all be in about 5 this afternoon. I thought that Dorothy would've been here by now..." "Uh, she got delayed. Some last minute business," I temporized, recalling that late night conversation I'd been trying to repress. "But since the main event isn't until tomorrow, we have time." "But she'll miss all the stuff in between." Tanya groused, somewhat perturbed by this wrinkle to her perfect plans. "I guess I'll have to leave a note with Reception then." "Well, we should check you into your suite?" Sam intervened decisively, that sense of professional fun back in place; as if it never left. "I'll have Mike alert your driver to the pick up times, so ya'll can just relax." Believe you me, Relaxation was the first thing on my mind as our cuddly host lead us past the entrance to the casino and onward to a bank of elevators. Even eager to simply put work behind me, I couldn't help but notice an oddly familiar pair coming out of a nearby bar. "Hey," I whispered to Tanya and Gale. "Aren't those the two guys we bumped into at the airport?" "Could be." My best gal glanced their way with deliberate casualness. "Still, it's not unusual for people to keep bumping into each other. You think there's a problem?" "I don't know, probably not," I told her, even as one of them began talking on his cell. It appeared that neither were particularly inclined to notice us, and perhaps Dorothy's warning had made me a bit skittish in spite of myself. "Just watch your purses around them, ladies." Still, regardless of my reassurances, I decided not to get too complacent as Sam pressed the button for our floor. What can I say about Tanya that I haven't already? Since our little cruise last year, I was impressed by her ability to deliver the goods. When our escort opened the door to our suite, we weren't disappointed. The room was slightly smaller than - say, a conference room. Ok, perhaps I'm exaggerating just a bit, but this was my party and I'll lie if I want to... The common area was long yet still roomy, with doors at either end leading into plush bedrooms. There was an expansive window to give us a great view of The Strip; for the moment partially obscured by a large purple swag. And everywhere was covered by mixed floral arrangements, as well as mountainous treats ... "I know we can be a rowdy bunch," I quipped, eyeballing the lavishness with a queasy anticipation. "But really - Tanya, isn't this too much for just seven of us?" "Not for your Last Hurrah, Hon." she exhaled with fond exasperation. "Besides, whose to say there're won't be some tagalongs, after we've made the rounds..." "Tanya," I warned her, having seen that playful twinkle before. For such an otherwise centered woman; where her libido led, well... "As much as I appreciate the gesture, I don't need any stray Chippendales following me Home?" "And who said they'd be for you?" "Consolation Prizes for the persistently single?" "Absolutely," my best friend chortled, glad to see me finally feeling the fun - as Rochelle would say. I obliged further by deftly nabbing a lush chocolate dipped strawberry off a nearby tray, seductively nibbling it down while Sam whistled approvingly. "And here I thought you said we'd have to really work to loosen her up." she directed this rather saucy remark toward my Ms. Landers who simply took it in stride. "If this is uptight, by the honeymoon the poor groom won't know what hit em." "Thanks for that vote of confidence," I said, clearing a stray glob off my right cheek with a leisurely fingertip. "But while y'all wait to see how Karen gets her groove on, maybe we can change out of our travel duds into something less? Who'll go first?... oh, wait. It's me." Gale beamed like the proud parent she was while Sam cast a tell-tale sneer toward my best girl, as if to say "She's your good friend, I just work here." Honor satisfied, I left them to their own devices while I enjoyed the amenities - a lot. But it wasn't simply some well-earned release before greeting the rest of our posse. I was eager for some quality time alone with the eighth member of this celebration. As I'd come to expect, our talk was anything but average. "Ok, sister of mine, I'm doing my best here." "And I'm a misery bitch," she admitted at long last. "I know." "So, spill." Jesus, I was even sounding like my inner voice, but the glow was fading and the frustration was palpable between us. "I'm not sure this is working." "What's not working?" I demanded, raucous laughter coming from the other room as I fluff dried my hair. "We put so much effort into getting us even this far..." "That's just it," Karen broke in edgily, something more behind her heavy voice. "As much as I've tried... I just don't think there ever was a 'We'." "And that big lecture about how we are each other?" I shot back, expressly put out by this off the cuff retreat. "You helped me through so much. More than Gale, or even The Professor. This whole exercise is about giving you your Life back..." "Your Life, Carl." The matter of fact tone floored me, even while a residue of the old man appreciated her dilemma. "You've been living it so well for the past several months, and now you're getting married..." "To a man who loves you," I countered rather sagely, her anxiety mirroring my own doubts when first faced with his proposal. "After All, You were the reason I finally accepted, or had you forgotten?" "I guess I did..." she answered slowly, as if for my sake which cued me into the problem at once. "But as much as I'm still simply a ghost in the machinery..." "As you once said to me... Liar!" I'm sorry?" her confused response, despite my best intentions toward this woman; my better angel, tickled another emotion within... a smug sense of payback for December. "You heard me, sister dearest. Who's scared now? You afraid of actually becoming more than a Greek Chorus of One? Worried that when you do, all this good stuff will be waiting for you? Worried that when it does, you'll come up short somehow?" "Maybe all the above," admitted Kay, still clutching to that tiny bit of resistance like a favorite raggedy doll. But while we seemingly had miles to go, I wasn't about to let her play this game without laying down my trump card. "But the answer is; None of the Above, my heroic lady," I challenged, with nothing but good feelings toward my wonderful femme-phantom. "The Truth... the reality of our relationship, fighting Janus ReGen and as soul-sisters sharing this amazing body... You don't want to lose old Kolchak, now do you?" "You're right, I don't." The huff was almost humorous in its appraisal of my acerbic insight. "I'd rather just let go of myself. After all, what was it all for if neither of us gets the Happy Ever After we deserve?" "Now hold on, kiddo." I paused with lipstick in hand, almost as a flourish to make the point. "That's not quite fair. This was my mission, you know. At heart, I'm still that old reporter just trying to do the right thing at long last..." "Nice Breasts for an old man, by the way." Karen remarked smartly, but the former hollowness behind the gibe was less. "Do you really think your leaving me would be in my best interest?" "Sass, youngster," I chided respectfully, her stubbornness reminding me of something I'd forgotten. "But who's to say I simply blink out? "'Remember' was what you said to me, so perhaps Fate will be kinder than we consider? "Besides, don't be so quick to count either of us out. As we both know, I'm not that easy to get rid of. Truth?" "Truth," she conceded, perhaps feeling a glint of hope even as I felt ever the hypocrite. It had been made fairly clear by The Gods that Success meant a return to the void for old Kolchak. What, exactly, that entailed, I didn't know. I guessed it was nothing less than Oblivion. "In the meantime, help me finish up here?" I suggested, shelving these morbid thoughts before Karen got wind of them. "We don't want to look less than stunning, do we?" Let's just say that when Karen and I finally rejoined them, even Gale was impressed by the image we'd concocted. I wore a blue denim short dress with a wide curved neckline, short sleeves with decorative button cuffs and pretty gathering on the skirt. Not quite a mini, yet it showed more than enough of my slightly chunky yet still fit gams. Beneath, I'd allowed my inner critic to suggest some soft provocative lingerie, an indigo satin demi-bra and French cut panties. The goddess was pleased as she finished off this fashion plate with sandals which sported elevated solid heels. My makeup was light, but when combined with the deliberately tousled mane, Spring had definitely sprung in Vegas... "Holy Crap," Tanya declared. "When you finally let your hair down..." "And I expect no less from my girls," I added with the tone of a bridal taskmaster. "if we're gonna do this right, that is." "Well," Gale chuckled, giving her co-patriot a passing pat on her shoulder. "I guess we've been given our marching orders then." "You go ahead, hon." Ms. Landers laughed as I flopped down beside her. "Age before... You know." "Yes. But when one has both, when are you gonna have time to clean up, dear?" Gale shot back from the bathroom door. Rather than being insulted, my old friend gave a wicked grin as she declared. "I really like your mom." "So do I," I amended reverently before Karen gave me an abstract elbow. As we awaited Gales return, the cruise line rep caught me up on some old business... "So you want to know the latest concerning our mystery masher? Hmm?" she ventured with some practiced annoyance toward her employers. "Evidently, since jumping ship; quite literally, which you know, of course, he also changed venues. "There were no reports to indicate he was continuing to harass women aboard cruise ships, sailboats, tugboats, toy boats. "From other sources, I did hear vague references to comparable incidents in resorts like The Catskills, Atlantic City, Nashville, even some places in Florida & Texas." "But nothing definitive," I concluded, not too surprised where that was concerned. An exercise not only in Futility toward catching this paranormal lothario, but a reflection of my initial vulnerability as a fledgling female. I'd come that close to being debauched by this godlike Adonis, who masqueraded as a ships officer. Instead, I was seduced by a more earthly lover, the handsome emcee of our onboard Karaoke Bar. But rather than continue his chase of this now taken reporter, De la Croix simply chose to bed two young co-eds, recent acquaintances of mine... "Once he came ashore, that was the end of my employers involvement," Tanya admitted, though none of that was her fault. "But I'm more curious as to what, if anything, you uncovered at your end. You had a source who was going to help ... ?" "I did, and I do... I said 'I do' - in point of fact." My rather cute, if curt response, it confused my maid of honor for a second. That is until she expectedly caught my drift. "Prof? It was him? Hon, that's wasn't what I meant about pumping your informant." "Well," I chuckled. "We weren't exactly spending all that time between the sheets. Honestly; he didn't even try for it until the Fall. Besides, we had several other things crop up in the interim..." "Such as?" Oh, what indeed. Tanya had voiced some concerns about my well-being during our half successful cruise, not knowing who was living in her best friends body at the time. I suppose that after witnessing the dematerialization of our main suspect, it would've been easier to simply come clean... but I didn't. "Oh, that little blow up in Chicago, for instance." The light tone behind my words caught her off guard as she realized what I was talking about... "That Brouhaha from October? You were involved in that?" "As well as another case before that. Before you called about your little problem." I confessed. "So, it was quite a busy year for this girl..." "To say the least," Gale interjected as she rejoined us, looking amazing; with little effort as always, in a simple pastel sundress. Sexy, if somewhat straight line, to diminish her agreeably full figure, the soft vertical swirls of forest green against the dove white was almost retro mod. Although she was no longer that young woman of Kolchak's memory, Gale Klein was still one gorgeous gal. "Uh, yah." I opened both my hazel eyes wide in girlish exasperation, as if to say 'Not Now, Mother.' "But this isn't the time to rehash all that, is it?" "Well, dear," a smooth yet commanding voice ventured drolly from the doorway. "Maybe after a few drinks, you'll feel differently about that..." "Perhaps," my pleasant counter less mocking than with the others. "But I don't see any bells on, Dorothy." "I was in a bit of a rush, you may have guessed," she answered, that mature emerald gaze looking me up and down in deliberate critique. "Fortunately I was able hitch a ride with a friend, who just happened to have a junket in your neck of the woods." 'Speaking of strange bedfellows," I remarked, all the while Karen feeding me some interesting data; as plump as our strawberries, from before I was reborn. "Did you tell the Congressman I said Hi?" "Sass, kiddo," Dorothy warned, though the deep blush undercut her severe rebuke. "Besides, those accusations were shown to libelous, as you damn well know!" "And I'm guessing, from that little number you have on, he was just saying Thanks." "Just Shut Up and give me a drink," groused my boss. "And for your information, everything was aboveboard and above the table." "More the Pity. Is Wine Ok?" I quipped cheerfully, making a peace offering of the crystal glass. The older woman smoothed down the slightly askew beige satin blouse, her deep brown fluted skirt also less than pressed. Her intense stare awaited a sly comment, but eventually just took the glass with a resigned humph. Karen and I understood that anything between Dorothy; and whatever man caught her eye, she never allowed that to get in the way of her job. Perhaps having been twice bitten, it allowed this proud woman to draw a clear line between Passion and Professionalism. Still, powerful women oft times attracted some seriously controversial men... "So, I suppose I should pace myself," she muttered dryly, already working on her third drink. I touched her arm in support. "You do whatever feels right. This is everyone's party as much as mine." "Then I better pace myself." "At least until the rest of the gang arrives," Tanya advised, though she too was sampling another glass while Gale adopted a somewhat tolerant attitude. It seemed that our little gathering was fast becoming a less than sober affair... Still, even with moderation fast flying out the window, we managed to keep some decorum as both Dorothy and Gale broke my moratorium, giving our Ms. Landers an account of Janus and Chicago. If anything, Tanya did a good job of hiding her surprise, even as the phone rang. I covered my annoyance with both Boss and Mother, deftly nabbing the receiver from its cradle before the third ring. But by the end of the short conversation, it was all smiles at this end. It was Sam, letting us know that Jenny and the girls were on their way up... I think that Jenny Weston was mildly nonplused by my invite, as we'd only communicated on and off through the occasional e-mail and Christmas cards. But I'd felt strongly that the elder retiree had done so much to center this confused reporter. She helped her; among other things, to find her grove with William. "James let you come alone?" Tanya observed, delighted that Jen was hardly fazed one bit as she declared. "I think he was rather glad to get me out of the house. There were some bad habits he'd been missing out on lately." Our two college kids gawked somewhat at the rather urbane banter. Little red headed Rochelle; our psychology major, caught up in good time, giggling appreciatively while tall Natalie frowned. Thankfully, both girls were over 21; Rochelle just recently so we had an extra incentive to go a bit wild. Natalie had a few years more under her belt, wearing a dour tude which lessened with a few choice nudges from her best friend. It was partially a lingering grudge against me, since I'd inadvertently turned De la Croix onto her cabin-mates, which got them both seriously laid. Rochelle and Carla were not injured by their enthralled threesome, but left somewhat red-faced after the euphoric affects wore off. Natalie remained pissed at me for several days, unbending only to Jenny's calm mediations. "Since today's fairly casual, I'd like to schedule some time to catch up with an old friend," Gale requested of our party planner. "If you're all willing to tag along, that is." "I think that'd be great... Mom," I gushed, perhaps too excitedly for her like. "There's a lot of old History here... so you told me. It'd be fun to see where it was made." "If we could have some dinner first," Mrs. Weston requested substantively. "I'd like something more than airplane fare in my stomach." "I think I know just the place." our Ms. Landers ventured knowingly... When Tanya said Style, she wasn't kidding as our party was seated in a Montecito restaurant named, I kid you not, Wolfgang's. Yep, that Wolfgang. In fact we even caught a brief glimpse of the man himself: just passing through, who we admired from afar. Gale, Jenny, and Tanya were amused by my menu selection, a seared sesame crusted salmon produced with great flourish and no lack of irony. But unlike the similar fare aboard my metaphoric maiden voyage, I blithely dug into the meal, guiltless and with gusto, indulging instead in a rather nice Ros?. 'What?" I asked innocently, giving them an arched brow until my two former shipmates simply shrugged their shoulders. It was a moment of transition I'd yet to recognize, until much later. It was as if all misunderstandings had finally been shoved aside, The Goddess in full bloom. But as a comic book icon once remarked, 'With Such Power comes Great Responsibility.'... August 4th An Addendum; It is perhaps obvious that this was not the moment I mentioned, but perhaps the beginnings of that tipping point where Parity was given form. Despite all of Carl's assurances, if my awareness had really been all he made it out to be - But Hindsight has its own pitfalls, and I won't besmirch his literal manifestation of this clich?, or the ultimate sacrifice which resulted from it. As it was, by now, he played off this alter ego so effortlessly that any lingering division was rendered moot. May 12th, 2006 Mario gave each of us an encouraging wink and a wide grin as the gang tumbled into the back of our ride. The younger girls clearly couldn't get enough, while Jenny quietly sampled some of the Champagne we'd left from earlier. She and Mom took a quick shine to each other, gossiping like age old friends. Likewise, Tanya reciprocated with Dorothy by telling her of our shipboard adventures last July. Our mobile party was in full swing around me, yet I was still distracted as Mario took us along Eastern Avenue into the heart of the Vegas Strip. I was caught up in Kolchak's old recollections of Las Vegas, scarcely the eternal flame of fond memories. It had, however, shown me the extent of his talent for survival, as this sand encircled Mecca had for so many lost souls before mine. Gazing out upon the seriously overdeveloped main drag, Karen was bemused by this game I played as I counted what wasn't there. If he'd expected a huge turnover after all this time, Kolchak would've been surprised. It appeared that while many old businesses returned to dust; courtesy of the demolitionists' toggle, many more had simply been absorbed into the upgraded infrastructure. Others, like the Still Iconic Fremont St, had become a roofed high tech experience, a laser enhanced homage to the old girl. As for the once equally emblematic Pioneer Casino? A souvenir shop... In the meanwhile, with regards to my inner sister, I adroitly amended what she knew of her mother's past, guaranteed to make any daughter blush. Gale Foster, one hundred and one pounds of unabashed blonde charm and calculated innocence. Kolchak had really believed that, and for the most part it was true. But Hell - even that perennial icon of playful perversion, Bettie Page, approached her craft with a spirit as pure as St Joan. His girl hadn't gone quite as far as Ms. Page, but her rise to the mid- ranks of the Vegas Food Chain had spawned some interesting connections. Before her job as a hostess in one of the smaller casinos on the strip, Gale had shown a little skin in a now extinct girly show. It was largely forgotten, save for a fellow dancer; now stage madam, Paula Lockwood... Burlesque was one of the oldest public forums of seduction in history. Traditionally a risqu? variety show, it was a playful wink n a nod before the more caustic degradation of sex these days. Perhaps even Salome of old would've been hard pressed to compete against the more extreme displays of public pudenda. Still, the old art form refused to die out, recycling phoenix-like as an eccentric old aunt, resplendent in all her G-String Glory. A proud member of the old guard: though it had been well over fifteen years since she'd hung up her Pasties, Paula still worked the backstage of Westwards Gold Strike Cabaret like a Grand Dame. "I can't believe this," mocked Paula, looking every inch a Tracy Ullman character with her bluish pink pageboy cut, though somewhat more fashionable in her pearl-white peasant blouse and trim slacks. "All these years gone by and you just now come for a visit. What's that about?" "Well, I was run out of town on a rail... you might recall," Gale offered obligingly, as Rochelle examined with studious interest, the bare breasted bevy returning from the evening's first number. Most ignored her, though some idly appraised the slim co-ed in her Black & White checker print halter dress. Tanya seemed apart from all of this somehow. Perhaps her own career contributed to the woman's indifference, maybe not. She did cast a speculative glance toward her best friend, though I couldn't be sure what was on her mind. 'Oh, that's right." Paula feigned forgetfulness, memory and instinct sharp as always as she caught one of her girls by the arm. "Less pelvis, Julia. We wanna keep the marks coming back, not all over our nice clean floors. Try to pretend this is a classy show." "So," she refocused on her old friend. "I do remember that you'd taken up with some scruffy reporter. "I always figured you'd end up bonking a movie star, or even some politician... but a reporter? Wasn't he a loose cannon? always getting into trouble with the wrong people?" In this bit of info, my editor; the ever indomitable Ms. Weller, seemed particularly interested. Perhaps it explained something of our character, Karens that is, which she'd never considered before. "To say the least," my mother/Carl's lover spared me an ironic look, even while her friend realized what it was that Gale was referring to... "Those killings back in the 70's! and there was a rumor the guy doing it was some kind of -" "Monster, yah." "And you got caught up in all that? Poor Dear," the older woman soothed before turning to sly chastisement. "Still, a long time to hold a grudge, Honey." "You're right," Gale admitted apologetically, clearly tickled by the tawdry trappings of that part of her youth. "But of course there were other things. Like marriage, for instance, and my beautiful daughter here. Paula? Meet Karen." "Had her kind of Late did you?" the former chorus girl remarked, taking Rochelle by the hand while giving her the once-over with a practiced eye. "Still, not too shabby. Nice little body, there. You ever consider trading on your good looks, Hon?" 'Uh, thanks - I think." Our little college student blushed fiercely, jabbing a free finger in my general direction. "But I'm not the daughter... she is." Karen fumed while I snickered at the woman's almost cursory look my way, our self image flagged by the stage madam's experienced evaluation. Still, Ms. Lockwood was just as judgmental toward her own assessment of our figure. "Well, it takes all kinds in this business. Oh... what is it you do again?" I didn't even blink, smiling sweetly as I lightly quipped. "Oh, nothing much... I'm just a reporter." Her double take was priceless, if fleeting. The moment was broken while Paula hen-pecked the ladies, tackily resplendent in faux rhinestone Gs, almost invisible gun belts fastened by over sized sliver stars. A little talc around sensitive areas, a touch of rouge, the nearly naked gaggle were good to go for the next set. 'It's not what you think, by the way," Gale explained preemptively, catching that question in the others merry face. "Carl and I were separated by the powers that be, after the murders. I moved around a bit before finally hooking up with a good man - Karen's father." "He's a dentist, since you asked." "I guess I did," Paula chuckled with a rueful shake of her colorful curls. "You got boring on me, Kiddo." "Thank God for that." mom shot back. "So," Jenny cut in while casually wrapping a scarlet boa across her shoulders. She critically inspected her reflection in the lit dressing mirror, perhaps seeing the young woman she used to be. I was certain; with her Barbara Stanwyck grace, that Mrs. Weston had been quite the glamour girl. "A bit of naughty, from time to time, is good for the soul." "Back when I was in college, a wannabe beau actually took me to see Gypsy Rose Lee. She was doing some club in NYC, just off of Time Square..." "See now, that what passed for class in the public eye, though folks in the business knew better," Ms. Lockwood lectured, half listening to the sounds from onstage. "Now, Sally Rand. She was one of several gals who brought some dignity in. That's what I try to pass on to these kids." 'Point Taken," the otherwise overlooked Natalie Bruno replied understatedly, not quite as entertained by all this as the rest of us. "Flashing Tits and Ass for a bunch of dirty old men is fun." "Well, Well," chuckled our hostess, a playfully fierce gleam in that amber gaze. "Someone's gotten herself an education, hasn't she? But you're right, dear. It was a bitch of a biz to get caught up in. "While I got in at the ass end; as our Ms. Grumpy says - still, The Grind wasn't simply a routine, it was a rough life for all." "Of course now, any Vegas club worth mentioning is bonded up that very same ass," Gale added thoughtfully, though she flashed a supportive smile toward our Amazonian co-ed. "And all kinds of annual inspections, but not all unionized?" "With our turn-over?" Paula grimaced. "But we still submit a ton of paperwork on each girl to the State, all the same. It's not an entirely solid system, but I wouldn't let anything bad happen to my girls. You can count on that, youngster." Natalie blushed deeply, her smug ego dinted by the soft rebuke. Kolchak knew that hurt presumption well, the confirmation of another world outside of your comfort zone. Still, the young woman learned quickly, giving Paula a polite nod, though her sharp witted instructor took little offense. "So. You ladies gonna stay awhile?" the old performer requested lightly, all forgiven in her mind. "Well..." It was actually Rochelle, glancing toward her best friend as Mother and I smiled. Such loyalty deserved to be rewarded. "Why don't you girls go on back to the Hotel?" Gale suggested, clearly addressing me as well as she said it. "Paula and I want to catch up..." "I'd like to hang with you guys, if you don't mind," I offered, only to be taken back as Kolchak's ex gave me a sweet yet definite rebuke "It's your Bachelorette party, darling girl, so go have fun while we oldsters shoot the breeze. Ok?" "Yes ma'am," I answered, figuring that she didn't want an old beau listening to what she had to say about him. Still, this spontaneous exclusion smarted just a bit. Jenny Weston was clearly tickled by this Mother-Daughter dynamic as she chimed in. "I think I would like to stay as well. As much as I'd like to be - some of us aren't exactly spring chickens." "I'm not too old," Dorothy protested spontaneously; to no one in particular. "Fine," Karen and I grumbled with half sincere exasperation as an unperturbed Tanya took my hand. "Let the old biddies have their hen- party. We Chicks are going to paint the town." "Just so long as you remember to pace yourself," my friend chided, with a return to mischief. "Don't forget Amore del Mares." "Well, I'll always have you here to remind me," I retorted smartly, catching a curious edge to Tanya's merry expression. "Of that, and other things," she confirmed, but it wasn't Booze or Debauchery she was referring to. I had made that promise at the end of the cruise, hadn't I? 'No, really. I'm not," my boss said again, prompting Tanya and I to each sling an arm across her shoulder. "I don't know how these rumors get started." So it was we left them gabbing as I slipped Mario's call card into Gale's outstretched fingers. We; Karen and I, gave them a parting caress, just to show that All was Right with The World. Of course what I couldn't anticipate was how not right things would ultimately become... May 13th, 2006 Traces of defused morning light played tag over my half naked body as I blinked repeatedly to clear my sleep crusted eyes. I stretched this somewhat stiff frame with less than catlike grace, Tanya's admonishments in mind. My mild hangover, thank the Gods, was the purest that either Karen or Kolchak had experienced for quite a long time. For my best friend, however... It seemed that Payback was indeed a bitch as she sprawled semi-comatose across the other side of the bed, having helped to successfully close out our first night. Not to the point of alcohol-induced amnesia; a state with which I'd become very familiar, and we did manage to undress before crashing hard upon the too soft mattress. "Tanya? Honey?" I spoke deliberately loud in her ear, to which a stray hand batted at me like some buzzing insect. "I'm just going down stair for a quick stroll to clear the cobwebs. You want me to order everyone breakfast before I go?" "Humph. Burble... Dats uh kay," she confirmed before drifting back to sleep. I chuckled heartily at this, content that this time I'd acquitted myself well in our all-nighter. Though this female body was way younger than Carl's fossilized male physique, still I'd had doubts as Natalie started us on Tequila shooters in this club called Mystique. Of course we more seasoned gals were Game to try, with even Dorothy setting up a respectable pyramid of glasses before her. Hell, Rochelle even got us all on the dance floor, inspired, no doubt, by her chat with Paula. But wherever the inspiration came from, our little girl got into some serious grinding while both Natalie and I watched her like mother-hens. The last time some mentor had given our Ms. Sandberg advice - well, Natalie knew better than anyone how that turned out. This night, thankfully, Rochelle kept her more provocative moves inside the club, and the worst headaches were reserved for the morning after. "Ms. Klein..." a pixyish voice greeted me as I exited onto the main lobby. "Karen." "Karen," Sam agreed with an almost beatific smile, while her eyes held a devilish glint at sight of my slightly rumpled shorts and T-top. "DeLinda said you ladies had a very good time last night. She also mentioned you wanted to ask me a favor, but it could wait until morning. "Well... it's morning. What can I do for you?" As a bride to be, even with Ms. Weller's earlier cautions, I was determined to wring as much pleasure out of this trip as possible. As an investigative reporter, however, there were times when Coincidence became too much so, as to supersede fun. On the face of it, I only had my suspicions, but such had begun many of Kolchak's more notorious cases... There was something else as well, at the edge of my memory. As we were leaving the Gold Strike Cabaret, Dorothy had been saying - well, quite a lot really, but most of it had gone in one ear and out the other. Still, as we'd skirted the main theatre, I was fairly certain I'd spied those same guys as from twice before in the audience. Again, this was purely circumstantial, but it stuck as an afterthought. I could only let it stew until getting the proper help, either to confirm or allay my tenuous hunch... "I was just wondering, uh, Sam." I gave her the warmest smile which instantly got me a guarded look in return. "Umm, just how good is your surveillance system?" Facial Recognition software had been in use for some time now, but only recently came into its own within the last few years. With the total conversion to Digital, the process of Identification from even a single captured frame was oft times lightning quick... in most cases. In Security, Mike Cannon leaned forward with deep focus as his fingers flew across the keyboard, periodically checking the time index while sped up overlapping phantoms flitted by on the Hi-Def screen. We'd already established our own arrival, and yet he was having some problems finding the right camera angle to locate our possible stalkers. "You're pretty sure they were coming out of that particular bar?" he asked gently, wary of the restless women beside him. Sam couldn't help but poke fun at her coworker. "Yep, we were all struck blind in that moment. One reporter, and two PR people whose job it is to be attentive to detail..." "We aren't talking about your fashion sense, darlin." he muttered under his breath, returning to the task at hand. "Hold on. Let me try something... Hah! Who's the Man?" "We'll discuss that later," the sultry hostess purred irreverently, even as she coyly looked back over her shoulder at me. "But for now... that reflection in the window look familiar, Karen?" They'd nearly been in a blind spot, but the mirror sheen of the tavern glass caught a partial of one, and all of his buddy - talking on his cell. Still, both were in motion and very blurry... "You can clean that up? I'm kinda hoping." "If I skip lunch," he assured me, and I couldn't tell if he was kidding. "But seriously, it'll take probably an hour, at the very least, to program in the variables. You wanna wait? I can order in some Danishes or something..." "Oh shit!" I cursed loudly, remembering that I was suppose to be elsewhere. "Uh, could you just phone up to our suite? If it's longer... here, I'll give you my number." Mike nodded, smiling wickedly as I hustled my ass back upstairs. Tanya and Dorothy, at once familiar with my habits, merely continued to nosh while Gale clucked her tongue. Jenny and the Girls likewise figured it for some bridal eccentricity, Rochelle offering me her fruit platter as I flumped down at the table. "That was some stroll." Tanya ventured, using her waffle laden fork to punctuate the point. "At least you got us this excellent feed before going MIA." The banquet was pretty amazing, warming trays holding scrambled eggs, sausage n bacon, an option of waffles or flapjacks. Plenty of coffee or tea to rouse our groggy crew. There were several plates of fruit and pastries, overkill like before. This time, I was more than ready to dig in. "So, where were you off to?" Dorothy; The Inquisitor, asked politely. "Obviously something so engrossing that Breakfast was fast on it's way to becoming Lunch." "I was just checking out some guys," I quipped somewhat evasively, my collaborator paranoid enough that she caught my drift without too much trouble. "You shouldn't do that without Backup," our editor grumbled; not without a fond undertone to the stern reproach. "You're to be a married woman soon." "Oh, Sam was there. As well as that great eye in the Montecito sky. In fact - Mike's checking that for me right now." "Thank you for being careful," she exhaled gratefully. "After all, one would think we were going a bit overboard with this..." "Ya think?" I suggested tartly while casting a skewed eye at my best friend. "Well, Tanya would." "You bet I would," emphasized the aforementioned gal. "Now would you please just let Security do their job? Who decided that 'Dire. ' was to be part of this week anyway?" "Not me," I responded innocently, Karen mentioning something about 'Denial Not Just Being a River in Egypt.' Only she knew how true that was, though it came less from what Kolchak had shown her, than the fact that we'd been two peas from the start. Truth, made us kindred. Truth, on the other hand, as it set free those captive in ignorance, also set something more physical in motion. I believed that while I couldn't predict exactly where; this Karmic Roulette Wheel would stop, my own end was fairly well predetermined. Still - Where Humans Presume... Already the now boisterous and well fed women were ready to roll, Tanya; The Ringleader, making sure we were all properly outfitted to hit the casino. As she went down the line, my ever prepared maid of honor divvied out stacks of chips for all of us. So... Here's the joke. For as much time as Kolchak had spent in Sin City, he never once picked up the dice or laid down a single hand. It was that stubborn streak; forged early on in his life, which formed the basis for his hardcore cynicism. It was the desire never to be mistaken for a mark - by anyone. As an extraordinary exception to the rule, Gale had broken through that shell, even if Carl 'The Romantic.' was forever a work in progress. It was that fleeting hopeful moment, which made his eventual fall back into former habits all the more tragic. Nearing the end of that other Life, who'd have thought the daughter would finish what the mother had started, although it took a Rube Goldberg set of conditions to do the deed. But dressed in a breezy fluted skirt and fitted blouse, I felt in Grand Form as Gale stopped just before the entrance to the gaming floor. She turned on Natalie and Rochelle with a strict maternal stare. "Listen Ladies," she lectured the younger women. "Stay away from spinning wheels or one armed bandits. They'll take your money in a flash. If you must play the slots, work the progressives. "I'd stick to cards, myself, since you can stretch your time at the table by betting smart." 'Just like those MIT guys," Natalie suggested arrogantly, to which I gently corrected her. "Who had serious money backing them. "Besides, they played as much to survive the lulls as rack up during the good hands. And don't think the dealers or their pit bosses aren't wise to most systems being run these days." "Otherwise, just have fun," Gale concluded brightly, giving me that cute eye roll she used to flash at Carl when he got too serious. "Shall we?" In keeping with the spirit of this adventure, I actually did play some Blackjack, retiring after only a few hands - which I won, of course. But these were not the games of chance which excited me - or Karen, for that matter. Our particular occupation played to a purer level of risk, and; in Kolchak's case, more often than not put Life and Limb on the table. Gale, for all the good advice, chose rather to observe the fun from the casino bar, while our co-eds laid their chips down with eager abandon. Dorothy seemed to have a definite method to her betting schemes, while Jenny simply ran a straight forward gambit, which somehow produced some pretty decent payouts. Tanya and I sat next to one another, sipping Margaritas, my friend evidently considering a question that needed asking. I recalled that conversation we'd had aboard ship, last July, and was fully prepared to make good on my promise. But with all that happened in between, it just never seemed quite the right time. "Get me really drunk tonight," I teased her. "I'll give you an earful." "You can count on that," she chuckled, before we were interrupted by a courtesy call for me. I excused myself at another page as our bartender passed me a phone. "Sam thought you might still be in the hotel..." Mike Cannon explained oh so cautiously. I giggled at his consideration while gently asking. "Uh, Mike? You do have something for me, right?" "It's probably better if I show you," he answered. "I know you got your party goin on and..." "Well, it is 'My Party,'" I told him as Tanya raised a quizzical brow. "So, sister? You up for some Show n Tell?" "I'd love it," she grinned widely. Gale stayed behind to explain our absence and we walked in to find Mike arranging several documents on his screen. At a cursory glance, it confirmed that our boys were far from Good Citizens... "Ladies," he greeted us with a somewhat puzzled tone. "It appears that while your admirers are less than squeaky clean, what their interest in you is; apart from the obvious, I haven't determined yet." "Nice save," I dryly observed, thrusting my chest out to emphasize the point. "This is all local info, right?" "Well, I was just getting started," he protested, idly tapping a key to enlarge the file of one Aaron Hannigan: the regional cookie-cutter racketeer. "Both Donnie Carr and Gerald Holt have had countless run ins with the Law, from car-jacking to petty theft. They graduated to - if you can call it that, larger but hardly violent crimes, recently hired as errand boys for this man." "Do me a favor and have Dorothy Weller come up here?" I requested, already formulating my apologies to her in advance. "I believe that if you link in with the Chicago Police Data Base, we'll have our connection." "I can do that," Mike confirmed. "Though if you want to go the extra mile, I'll have to notify our home town cops as to what I'm doing..." "That won't be necessary - for now," I reassured him, even as Tanya opined on her earlier assessment. "I guess we need to set an extra place for the party? 'Dire.' absolutely seems to be invited." For a professional fussbudget, Dorothy surprised me with her level critique, nodding at the onscreen profile. "Hannigan is Miles second cousin. Or is he a brother in law? In any case, his boys have been tailing us since yesterday." "And yet, it's been 'Look, Don't Touch?'" I countered, not without some levity toward this low key reaction to my rather barbed editorial. "What are they waiting for, I wonder?" "You see me complaining?" my coworker inquired rhetorically, as Tanya and I swapped sour looks. "Perhaps Miles wants to be here in person when they put a cap in our..." "Look," Mike interrupted before she got her full steam on. "You're guests at the Montecito, and as such you're my personal responsibility. I won't let anyone whack anyone. But just stay inside the hotel for now, OK? It's a very public venue, after all." "I don't suppose a call to the police is in order?" Tanya suggested, to which our guardian angel shook his smooth head. "If there's an actual threat, they'll get involved. But unless you want these wise-guys charged with Loitering, there's not much the authorities can do at this time." "You could, as a private institution, bar them from the premises?" Dorothy offered unhelpfully, which she damn well knew. "No, you can't. There's no cause." "Well, just modify your plans accordingly," he told us. "I'll keep both eyes on them, as well as anyone who shows up in their company. In the meantime, enjoy yourselves." Enjoy Ourselves - well - there was always a certain Gallows Humor to be had from this, though we three ladies shared it exclusively among ourselves. We didn't want to scare the others - after all. But this hands off approach from our admirers did bring an extra thrill to our festivities... Sam, after having a private talk with Mike, escorted us personally to the in-house spa. Its chatty little Asian Masseuse tried to do as good a job erasing our concerns as she did waxing certain intimate zones. That, in and of itself, was still barely distracting enough for me. But Mike Cannon was on the case, and gradually even this pessimistic princess allowed that the next move was up to Miles. For the present, with the main event fast approaching, I fell back upon a 'Eat, Drink, and Whatnot' demeanor. In all honesty, it was Carl who kept me centered, though I did feel just a little put out by this whole affair. As much as I hated to admit it, when Jacob Kane had made that condescending remark; oh so long ago, he was right. For all the harsh language or threatened legal action, Karens Life had rarely been put on the line; until Janus ReGen... August 4th Another Addendum; What the Hell could he have been thinking at this point ? Once again, for the record, I didn't need Gods, Monsters, or other kinds of Mystical Mayhem to back me in a corner. Bats, Shotguns, and Knives galore, they did the job just as easily. So while I'm certain he respected us, I can't be sure of what; exactly, he meant. Perhaps it did figure into that moment of true awakening for me, where Kolchak would finally give up the ghost - so to speak. May 13th, 2006 Karen was unusually still when we were escorted into Mystique. I was as much in the dark as to her reasons, as from the satin blindfold which covered our beautiful eyes. The kerchief was our college girls inspiration, all the better to keep up the suspense. It did that - to a point, as likewise it heightened my edginess in the absence of our two stalkers. Tanya and Gale at my elbows, helped to keep this girl calm, and yet... "Surprise!" And so it was; though a certain mischievous maid of honor had clued me into her epic plan just yesterday. Seven was reproduced several times over. Mostly last minute well wishers; under a canopy of obscenely shaped balloons, all ready to party down with this sardonic bride-to-be. There was also a champagne tower, so ambitiously stacked that I wondered if the only cascade tonight would be that of tumbled glasses. This mild speculation, in the midst of everything else, came to naught under the practiced attention of our servers. And as the sparkling sculpture quickly dwindled down to it's fluted foundation, the professional partiers looked to both our hostesses, Sam and Tanya, for that sign the Wild Rumpus could commence in earnest. Like overeager ponies at the gate, even our cute-some co-eds looked past ready - until Tanya simply winked at me, at which point there was a roar of approval. In that proverbial clich?, as I was instantly surrounded by this tidal rush, an almost defensive burst of happiness surged over me. It filled me - from my stiletto heels, to this golden crimpled cocktail dress (an homage - of sorts - to Gale), to th