Those Who Hunt: Kiss Before Dying

FRANK

The ride home had been quiet. Frank Keller knew an attraction when he saw one and there had definitely been sparks between his client and the young man with whom she had shared a dance.

After Johari had retired to her bedroom, Frank took up his usual spot on the middle cushion of the cream colored wrap around sofa in the apartment's living room.

Approximately five minutes later, his partner, Peter Loman, had joined him in the room and sat two cushions away from him.

Peter was almost twenty years Frank's junior, but very adept at his job. Frank only had hints about the young man's past.  There were the dropped s****l assault charges that had ended Peter's college basketball career and a stint in the army.  After that there only existed rumors and conjectures based on his abilities and the events that matched where Peter had supposedly been.

Over six feet tall, with the build of a long distance runner, and hair graying at the edges, Frank had been in this line of work much longer than Peter.  Whether in the employ of his government, someone else’s government, or more recently as a freelancer, Frank had guarded more than half a dozen politicians and twice as many business moguls.

His current assignment left Frank curious about what sort of power broker the young woman’s benefactor was.

Johari was under the impression they were simply baby-sitting her, but the kind of money and knowledge needed to hire a man of Frank’s particular set of skills indicated that her family was very well connected and possible targets for someone.

What those connections were, whatever threats they may encounter, and how far they may have to cross the line that separated legal from illegal had not been factored into his acceptance of the job. However those three questions now piqued his curiosity.

Decades of training and field work should have dulled that sort of curiosity.  At times he was able to ignore it; compartmentalize it with an ease that made it seem as if someone else was taking those risks.  

Peter had barely been around long enough to see a leap year but displayed no interest in the background of their clients.  Money was exchanged then services were rendered.  That was the end of the association as far as Peter was concerned.  The younger man more than likely did not know Johari’s name.

Long after Peter had left the living room, Frank was still pecking away at the keyboard of his notebook.

His need to know something—the girl's last name for example—had driven him to enlist the aid of a man that he may have called a friend if their fates had aligned differently.

A flurry of text assaulted his screen, yet Frank opted for brevity in his replies. The man on the other end of the connection could be a bit verbose, but Frank indulged him. His information was beyond reproach. In a few hours, Frank would be a step closer to unraveling his personal puzzle.