Case File #412

It was chilly and rainy when they landed at Logan airport. Clouds had brightened the night as they poured rain down onto busy streets. Remy stood on the landing, watching the rain fall onto cars who had stopped to pick up people. Hands in his pockets, and a relatively calm expression, he had to remind himself of the job he was there to do. He was lost in his own world until Keith placed a hand on his back and whispered into his ear.

"Just a few more days, love." Keith had come around to stand on Remy's right side, and step forward to hail a taxi.

A shiny maroon limo pulled up in front of them and a dark, husky gentleman got out from the front passengar seat to usher both Remy and Keith inside the back. With Keith's hand behind him, spread out tell Hugo to wait there, Keith ushered Remy into the back of the limo through the open door, while he followed.

They sat opposite an older, more reserved gentleman, with their backs to the driver's seat. Both blinked plainly and awaited the gentleman's door to be shut before he spoke.

"Ah, Keith, how good to see you again," the gentlman spoke in a thick, hard voice but smiled as he met eyes with Keith. "I trust this is the Remy LeBeau I've been hearing so much about?" Shifting an easy stare over to Remy and letting his smile shift into a crooked grin. "Tell me, did you boys have a good flight in," The older man with tight, thin lines on his paling skin, had glanced back to Keith for the response but, kept silent peeks at Remy his secret, "I understand the weather has been less than co-operative with the flight schedules."

"The flight was fine, thank you." Keith placed a hand over Remy's, as it lay between them on the seat, and smiled with his answer.

The old man nodded in return and focused on the two hands conjoined. "Good." He sighed inwardly before continuing to why he had wanted to meet with them on the platform. "I would suppose you want an explanation of why I have called you in here, correct? Simple. I am an old man, and don't like to be kept waiting for what I was promised, Ramsie. I've warned you about that when you first came to me for help." His white and silver hair was neatly combed and groomed short in back, while the front was parted to the left side of his rounded face. His hazel eyes admired the affectionate handholding of the two gentlemen across from him, and decided to collect his leverage.

Keith held Remy's hand more tightly and took a deep breath before offering up an answer to the older man's dilemna. "Thomas,..." he laughed nervously, "I have every intention of completing the transaction with you, I just need a few more days. My deal with the Columbians will be done on Thursday, and then I will give you your money, as soon as they leave."

"I'm not here to speak to you about your deal with the Columbians. I am here about business between you and my checkbook." Thomas sat forward, and looked very sternly at Keith. "My boy, you fear what the Columbians are known to do after a double-cross but, perhaps you need to be more afraid of what I will do, if this hesitation goes untreated." Lightening the mood, Thomas sat back and smiled once more at Remy. "This lovely young man will be my guest, until Thursday, and then.... I will be waiting for my money. If you do not pay what is owed, I will consider this young man as payment enough. Perhaps, I will not let my punishment for you, be taken out on him." Without another word, Thomas tapped the darkened glass and the door opened for Keith's exit.

"Keith?" Remy held tightly to Keith's hand, and turned to stare at him for reassurance.

Keith smiled and took a breath as he patted Remy's hand. "Relax. It'll be alright. It's just for two days, and then, this will all be just a fading memory." Placing a soft hand to Remy's right cheek, they kissed briefly, and then Keith exited the car without a word or a glare to Thomas.

The cardoor shut with Keith keeping his back to it, closing his eyes a moment to gather his thoughts before asking Hugo to hail a taxi. It had been too easy to let Remy go. He kicked himself for letting Thomas get the better of him. It wasn't that he had forgotten completely about Thomas, but more that he had set his mind on the deal with the Columbians,and what they were known to do when double-crossed. Thomas just hadn't struck Keith as a man who belonged in the position he was in.

Hugo didn't ask what had happened, as the limo pulled away from them with Remy still inside, but decided to guess at what was said and leaving it to his boss' business.

~~~~~~~

"Damn it! Why is it we're just now being brought up to speed on what happened?" Logan screamed into his phone as he paced the small room. He and Alisa were still awaiting orders, and hadn't left Bermuda yet. Wearing only his blue jeans and boots, he stomped effortlessly back and forth in front of the door, leaving Alisa to lay on the bed and lazily watch him while she dozed. "Yea, you do that!" Slapping the phone shut angrily and turning back to Alisa, he sighed loudly. "Ramsie has already escorted Remy back to Boston. They landed at Logan, a few hours ago. The CIA is just now getting up to date with his location."

With her hands folded behind her head, Alisa opened her eyes, from the beginings of her nap, and looked at him. She was still in her red bikini, and matched with her pale skin on the rust coloured background, looked like a model in a picture. "Bad guys move at de speed of light, ya know. I t'ink Remy be okay, cher. We'll catch dem, an' get Remy back, no problem."

"It ain't catchin them that I'm worried about."

"Ya worried about what condition Remy's gonna be in, ifin' dey find out who he is, right?"

Logan just stared at her, reluctant to admit anything that might only hurt him in the end.

Alisa sat up and crawled towards him, stopping at the edge of the bed to fold her legs under her. "You miss his touch, non?" She raised up and rest her hands on his broad shoulders. "You miss his kiss." Gently, she lay her lips against his and kissed him for an instant before Logan placed his hands on her forearms and eased her back.

"I think we need to focus on how to get him out of danger."

Staring into his eyes, Alisa felt a bit hurt but nodded anyway as she rested back on her heels.

Logan moved around her and went into the bathroom and shut the door. He sat down on the side of the bathtub and thought about what just happened. With his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, Logan's mind started to wonder a bit too much on the subject of Alisa's kiss. His phone rang from the beltclip he had it in, hooked to his right back pocket. "Yea?" He answered it with a slightly unnerved tone. While the other side spoke, Logan focused on the movement on the other side of the door by watching the space at the bottom of the bathroom door that the wood didn't cover. "Great." He paused a moment. "Yea, we'll be ready." Closing his phone and clasping his hands in front of his chin, he thought of the ending to the case before moving to anything else.

A short time later, there was a knock on the door, a soft tapping, to better suit the term. "Logan? My boys say dat Ramsie an' his boy are in a hotel room a few miles from de airport, no Remy. Poppa is flyin us in but your boys bring us up to speed when we get dere." She went quiet for a moment and backed up in reflex as the door suddenly opened and Logan stood in the doorway.

"Plane leaves at 8. We'd better get some sleep, long day tomorrow."

Alisa nodded but eased herself into his emotions to feel horror, anger, sadness and dreadful cold as she watched him pass her to go lay on his side of the bed. Sighing, Alisa padded over to the bed and laid down beside him. She rolled onto her side to face him and gently draped an arm over his chest, snuggling down deep into the bed while pressing herself close to his side. She had changed from her bikini to a white T-shirt with the "New Orleans' Saints" printed in gold letters, filling much of the white on the front.

Logan lay there, his right hand idling on a soft patch of hair that lay over Alisa's right ear. Her hair was soft, as soft as Remy's had been that night they lay together, just after sex. Taking a thick lock and twirling it around his fingers, he listened to her sigh and hum. As much as he tried, Logan couldn't find the strength to sleep. He closed his eyes and pictured himself in Remy's room, lying on his bed, they had just finished the sweetest sex and Logan stared in awe of the young man who wasn't even tired from play. Logan's body throbbed numbly at the pleasantness, and it felt like they were still connected. He hmm-ed and smiled as he lay there, with his eyes closed.

It seemed as if they had only just lay down, and a few minutes had passed but as Logan shifted to a new position, his watch alarm went off. It was 5.30 and Logan rolled over to find Alisa missing from the bed. Opening his eyes, he sat up and looked around the room before hearing the shower running and the words to "Lies" by Fleetwood Mac. rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his right index finger and thumb, Logan paused as the water stopped and the curtainrings moved along the railing.

~~~~~~~

Remy sat in the car with his legs crossed, right over left, and his hands folded neatly on his knee. He stared at the older man and tried his best to read him. "So, I'm your prisoner, hehn?"

A laugh from Thomas, as he sat across from Remy. "No, my boy, you are my guest, until Ramsie gives me my money. I hope you understand, that if he doesn't do as I ask him to, your stay might become more of a permanent thing. Although, it would be such a shame to punish such a pretty young man, in Ramsie's wake." Thomas had begun to lose his patience for discussing things from inside the limo, when they had already arrived at his grand estate. "Why do we not discuss such small trimmings from inside the house? Perhaps over something to eat? Come." Tapping on the window of the door to the right of him, Thomas was helped out by the driver, who had opened the door.

Remy waited for a moment, and sighed to himself, before crawling over to the door and stepping out, into the large garage of the man's estate. His eyes found the old man, immediately, and reluctantly took the man's arm as he was led up, into the house, via lift. Remy listened as the man went on and on about the house and garage, spouting useless but interesting details about certain workings.

Thomas was a shorter man than Remy. A bulkier man who was more muscle than fat, and not a man to upset. With the face of a kind old grandfather, and the mind of a timid businessman, Thomas was the person to be on your side of things in the good, but not one to forget and forgive a misuse of his judgement. He was shrewd and merciless behind a desk but kind and loving to family and dearest of friends. Thomas often knew more than he played to and grew to be quiet and resourceful, away from the ways of the younger bunch of mobsters he led.

As the lift doors opened into a grand and spotless kitchen, Thomas let go of Remy's arm and announced, to the several serants doing chores, that they were to fix a meal for he and his guest to dine on. "Come, I will show you to where you can freshen up, if you wish?" Turning back to Remy, Thomas smiled pleasantly, as if they were friends. He led Remy through the swinging doors of the kitchen, in to the wide diningroom, and out into a sitting room with two plush gold velvet sofas. A doorway, before a dark corridor, on the right, held a visible sink and seemed small with the light off. Thomas stepped over to flip the light on and wave Remy inside. "Take as long as you'd like but, the meal will be served shortly."

Remy was leery of the man but followed him over to a small half-bath and was free to step inside, alone. It was a big enough room for a normal sized bathroom but, only held a lavatory and toilet.

He closed the door and took a look around. He noticed there wasn't any windows, and it was quite bigger than what he originally thought it to be. Rose coloured carpet at his feet made him feel like he were walking on pillows. Just into the room, to the left, stood the lavatory with a large square mirror that covered the rest of the wall, where the countretop did not. The rose colour in the carpet had matched the rose tiling of the lavatory. Turning on the faucet to cold water, Remy washed his hands and then his face before turning the water off and grabbing a handtowel, that hung from a thick, white ring, on the wall to his right.

As Remy was bent over, patting his face dry on the fluffy white towel, he looked up into the mirror and questioned himself on what he was doing there. Sighing to himself and hanging the towel back on it's ring, Remy took a deep breath and opened the door, thinking he would find a guard standing there. There was no guard as Remy opened the door and stepped out. He looked to the right, down a long, dark corridor, and then to the left, to find a tan-suited guard staring at him from the entrance to the brightly lit diningroom. Walking the few feet to the doorway and turning left to find his host already sitting at the long table, at the far end, he stood there, puzzled.

"What, no guards to hustle me into de room? No ropes or chains for me ta style?"

Thomas looked up from his newspaper and lowered his head to see Remy, over the top of his thin-rimmed reading glasses. "Do you think I need to use them? I very rarely have company so lovely, such as yourself, Mr. LeBeau. I prefer to entertain business innocents, rather than punish them for what their partners do. That is, on the occasion Ramsie pays me what is owed." Thomas waved a hand to an empty chair, to his left. "Come, sit."

Remy stepped into the room and walked over to the table to sit in the appointed chair. A servant had met him at the chair and pulled it out for Remy to sit, before pushing it back in.

"I hope you don't mind cold sandwiches? In my old age, there are alot of medications for me to take, that keep this old body alive." Thomas removed his reading glasses and tucked them into his left breast pocket on his jacket, as he noted to Remy, who smiled politely back.

The tray was brought out and placed on the table, in front of them. The plates and silverwares were placed before them by white gloved hands and discreet women, who came and went so quietly. The smell of fresh breads, ranging from sourdough to wheat, to whole grain to white to pumpernickel, filled the room. Two layers of meats that were rolled and held that way by toothpicks, lay neatly in separated sections around the breads that lay in the middle.

Thomas gave Remy the first choice of food, while he whispered to a servant to bring out a bottle of wine for his guest. "I hope you like the choices, my boy. It is a bit too late for a heavy meal." The man sat and watched as Remy chose a small loaf of sourdough bread, chose mustard over mayo that sat in small glass bowls with glass spreading sticks, and then chose ham over turkey and pastrami.

A tray of 5 different kinds of sliced cheeses were placed down on the corner, between Remy and Thomas, and Remy chose swiss to complete his sandwich. Closing his sandwich together, Remy placed it on his plate and waited for Thomas to gather his meal together.

The male servant Thomas had set out on a task had returned with a bottle of Pinot Noir, and displayed it to Remy's left. Remy nodded and stopped the pouring at half glass.

"Are you a wine drinker, my boy?" Thomas smiled and completed his ham with cheddar and provalone on wheat.

Remy smiled back. "I don't refuse it, when offered."

"Good, good."

They dined in silence for a good five minutes, and then Remy's eyes started to wander about the room. "Art collector?"

Thomas swallowed his bite and caught Remy's eye on the painting that hung on the wall across from Remy's seat. "I collect many things. That one is my favourite Monet. I have statues, paintings, chess pieces, music boxes, glass dolls- for my granddaughter. It seems to me that you, yourself, are a different kind of collector, aren't you?"

Remy caught the man's eyes in a moment of surprise.

"Collector of information? Collector of people?" Thomas sounded pleased with himself that he had figured out a piece of who the young man was, dining with him. "I have been in this business a long time, my boy. In a few months, I will be 68 years old. Forty years is a long time to be watching people." He could tell he had struck a chord in Remy's interest but, instead of scaring him more, he decided to elaborate a little more, "you are such a pretty young man, Mr. LeBeau. Had I not seen you and Ramsie together, I would have thought you two came from completely different worlds. Might I inquire as to how you two met?"

"In jail," Remy summed.

Thomas laughed, amused.

Smiling, Remy continued, "I had a petit problem wit' other people's stuff." His hands had been in his lap for most of their chat, but when he held up his right hand, he revealed why they had been in his lap. A small gold pocketwatch dangled from a gold chain, between his fingers, and Remy was quick to hand it back to Thomas, who seemed very surprised to see it in the young man's hand.

"Very interesting, my boy. You are quite the thief." Accepting his watch and chain back, Thomas smiled and patted Remy's right shoulder.

Remy nodded and sipped at his wine.

~~~~~~~~

Keith paced his 12th floor hotel room and breathed quite heavily in thought. He hadn't bothered with the lights but left the drapes open for the city lights to brighten the room. With his left arm curled around his waist, the fingers of his right hand tapped and played idly at his lips. His jacket had been long ago discarded to lay on the end of the bed, and his shirt had been pulled out of his pants and unbuttoned, and his shoes were set neatly together, beside the bed. The pacing continued as Keith became more and more angry.

"Uh, boss..?" Hugo knocked on the door as he opened it, partially.

Keith didn't stop the pacing but glanced over to his bodyguard. "What?"

Hugo stepped in and closed the door. "I was just gonna go downstairs for something to eat, thought maybe I could bring you something back?"

Keith stopped his pacing but, faced the window and took a deep breath. "No, I'm not hungry. I'll see you in the morning."

"If you don't mind me sayin, boss,...... I think he's a smart kid. Nothin'll happen to him." Hugo had to control himself from fidgeting his fingers. He wasn't nervous talking to Keith but, he was uncomfortable talking about Remy to Keith. Remy was Keith's property, and Hugo was not to mess with that logic.

Holding his breath a moment, Keith listened to what Hugo had to say. "I'm not worried about Remy so much as I am worried what Thomas will do to him. First, he'll dine with Remy, then give him a tour of the house, then try to sleep with him. Regardless of what Remy says or does from that, Thomas might lose his temper if he is rejected, and something might happen to my beautiful Remy. Something permanent."

Hugo shrugged and thought it best to leave Ramsie to his vices. "Well, if you don't need me anymore, I'll get somethin' to eat before the kitchen closes. Night, boss."

"Night Hugo." Keith listened to him close the door as he left, and then opened the balcony doors and stepped out. He stood at the railing, watching the traffic down below before looking up at the stars in a moment of prayer.

~~~~~~~~

The double doors opened into a plush bedroom, with the California king-sized bed sitting upon a landing that was 2 steps up from the main floor of the room. The room looked like it was two or three rooms together, and plush cream carpet from one side to the other. The bed was against the far wall, surrounded by a canopy of royal blue velvet drapes. Thomas stepped into the room and waved Remy in, with him.

"The final room of the tour, the master bedroom." Thomas pointed to the far right side of the room, showing Remy the vanity dresser and two big wardrobes on either side. "That is my dressing side, and the other, is where I keep my reading and fireplace. And, of course, my bed is one of my favourite places to entertain my, lovely guests," Thomas placed a gentle hand on Remy's left cheek, "such as yourself."

"You think you gonna entertain me, on de bed, alone, hehn? You mebbe think Remy sleep wit' you, tonight, an' in de mornin he give up everyt'ing he knows of Ramsie, non?" Remy played coy, underlying the dangerousness of his actions.

Thomas smiled and waved the guards that had followed them out of the room. "No my boy, I am pushing nothing on you of my hospitality, but, you seem to have a sense about you that seems to be craving something. I am nothing to be toyed with, Mister LeBeau. My offer stands to share my bed, as it is a chilly night, or my guards will most certainly enjoy your company in their quarters. The decision is yours, my boy." He waited as Remy looked around the room, once more, and followed him with his eyes as Remy moved over towards the two arm chairs by the fireplace.

"I'm sure de bed is firm and comfortable for sex but, ever thought of spicin' t'ings up a bit?" Remy sat on a thin wooden arm of one of the chairs, and turned to face Thomas, over the back.

A smile caressed Thomas' mouth as he stepped closer and thought of opening a door, to the right of him. His smile brightened as Remy watched him with shy lust, walking over to a one-door walk-in closet, he opened the door and stepped aside. "I have plenty of amusements for us. If you would care to take a look, I'm sure there is something delicious that we could impede into that lovely tight body of yours....?"

With an eyebrow raised gracefully, Remy stood and casually stepped over to the room and wandered about the many toys, whips, cuffs, rings and other sexual instruments that Thomas had collected. "Perhaps, we use some of dese, an' mebbe more, non?" Turning from the shelf of rings and plugs and vibrators, Remy leaned forward and kissed the smaller, elder man with graceful sensuality.

Thomas was hurried to undress himself until Remy caught his hands and gently, slowly eased them away so that he could assist. "Come, dear Remy, I think you know what you are doing. So, I will let you lead me to the play."

Remy smiled and helped the man out of his dress shirt.


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