Pretenses Chapter 5

KELLY MCPHERSON'S shiny black Stingray was coming down the street-its hot-rod engine growling softly. Even with the windows up, I could hear Tupac Shakur's "Heartz of Men" playing loudly. Kelly had recruited me from Howard University, where I had earned my master's degree in criminology. After I graduated from the FBI academy in Quantico, Kelly trained me in the field. As a personal favor, I trained her in the martial arts. After five years of hard work, she was awarded a black sash in Kung Fu. I was proud to present it to her.

Kelly McPherson was tall, blonde, and very good-looking. She often downplayed her looks because men were constantly making unwanted advances. She wore loose-fitting clothing and no makeup, yet men still made unwanted advances. In addition, there were those who thought that since she was so good-looking, she was getting by on her looks and couldn't be depended on in a firefight, which wasn't true. Over time, Kelly had proven herself an excellent FBI agent.

She had earned the respect of her peers by backing them in fistfights and shoot-outs, and eventually she was promoted to Special Agent in Charge. Kelly helped pave the way for women like me to join the bureau. When Kelly first became an FBI agent, the bureau hierarchy introduced her as "one of our female agents." In response, she would frown and look down at her breasts. Kelly loved being an FBI agent, but she had seen too many good agents disciplined or fired for what she thought were minor infractions. When a liaison position with D.C. Metro was offered to her, she seized it. I hated to see her go, but when she took that position, Director St. Clair offered me the position she had vacated.

"It's about time you showed up," I said.

"Oh, hush. You probably just got here yourself," she laughed and jogged up the driveway. "Must be some real big ass to kiss on this case, huh, Michelson?"

Michelson frowned and then barked, "We don't have time for your bullshit, McPherson! Yours either, Perry. I want this solved and solved quickly."

"Assistant Director Michelson," I said, trying to bring some levity to the situation, "you will address me as Special Agent in Charge Perry."

Michelson stared at me for a few moments, trying not to laugh. Kelly said, "Somebody's in need of a serious blowjob."

Michelson laughed at Kelly's glib retort. Even though she occasionally got under his skin, he often welcomed her comic relief. "Okay, playtime is over. Get to work and make us all look good. Or somebody's head is coming off at the shoulders."

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