The Letters



Hey Sweetheart,

I know it’s only been two days, but I miss you something fierce—thought you ought to know that right off the bat. Consider this the start of an IOU for kisses when I get back.

Got out on Tuesday, late. Damn airport here at Uvita got shut down for some security drill so we circled the runway for an extra hour and then had the added indignity of having our luggage searched once we landed as well. Frankly I can’t see why—if anyone had a bomb they’d have set it off up on the air and not down in the terminal, right? I guess that little bit of logic escaped the authorities, who wanted to give me attitude about the gun safe and the badge I was packing.

I made nice, don’t worry, although I did expand my Spanish vocabulary in some interesting ways.

The room’s clean, and it’s a decent hotel for once, close enough to the beach to hear the surf at night. I was supposed to room with Charlie Castillo from Vice, but he had to cancel at the last minute—heard his wife went into labor early so he figured he’d do the right thing and stay with her in Henderson. That means I have the room here to myself, and that’s not too bad. Good continental breakfast, but it doesn’t touch your pancakes, Heather.

(I sort of like the sound of that, actually. Seems to be a good euphemism for what we got up to last Saturday. I DO remember syrup was involved, although the hotcakes were still on the kitchen counter, off in the other room—ah memories!)

So far I’ve sat through four seminars, a workshop and something called an infobrunch, which is nothing but another seminar with a buffet thrown in. Two days, and all I’ve got to show for it is some new databases, an updated Interpol directory, and a lot of lost time. Truth is, most of this stuff could have been Emailed or faxed to me. If it wasn’t for the chance to catch up with Emilio and a few of the other guys I probably would have passed, especially now.

God I wish you were here. I’m too old and too disinterested to go bar-hopping these days, but there are some gorgeous places here I’d love to take you, starting, say, right here in the hotel room. Maybe if we can manage some time off together we’ll come back and I’ll let you dazzle the waiters and cab drivers. In the meantime, I’m off to have dinner with Emilio and his wife, and after that, I might see if I can find a souvenir to bring home—ever had a coconut with your name engraved on it?

Loving you always,





Darling Jim,

I miss you too—more so since it’s gotten a little colder these past few days. I keep waking up and groping around to find my personal heater, but he’s in Costa Rica for all the good it does me. At this rate I may be forced to give up the satin babydolls for good old flannel pajamas!

I’m sorry both that the conference seems to be a bit of a bust and that I couldn’t get away to go with you. Honestly, owning one’s own business does have its drawbacks, the biggest one being vacation scheduling. But I do have our two weeks blocked off for the end of summer, so there’s always that to look forward to.

Your cleaning ladies are still very amused that El Capitan Brass has ‘una novia’, and have taken to leaving little touches for me around your house now—I found some feminine personal products in the bathroom cupboards. When I tried to explain to the older sister, Dolores that they weren’t needed, I’m not sure she understood. She only smiled and told me that you were and I quote here, Darling—‘muy virile y hermoso’. Not that I was going to argue, but I think her hopes of my conceiving unlikely. Virile and handsome you may be, (along with skilled, inventive and incorrigible at times) but some physical facts on my side are unchangeable.


She seemed unswayed by my assurances that there would be no Brass bebes anytime soon.


I took the liberty of getting your VCR repaired, so we can celebrate your triumphant return from Central America later this week with dinner and a movie if you’d like. We’ll get something terrible and neck all through it---


Missing you dreadfully!











Oy! No fuzzy pajamas! Crank up the thermostat if you must, but I’m not going to let you descend back into flannelism without a fight. The heater has his preferences and satin sits at the top of the list, Heather baby, so invest in a down quilt, but keep the curves right where I can see them. And feel them, preferably soon.


Dolores and her sister are plenty sharp—I’m sure they know the score. They caught me washing the sheets once, and I can safely say that although El Capitan Brass blushed, he did earn a wink and a nod from the two of them, along with a lecture on using too much bleach and not enough fabric softener.


Thanks for getting the VCR done—although I’m sure it was probably more than a new one costs these days, and yes I’m a little behind the times, but you of all people know how much I’ve already invested in tapes, so thanks for continuing to put up with a cranky old technophobe. I’ll make it up to you in yard work if you like, and even set up that new feeder you wanted for the hedge.


Well, Emilio and Katie are taking me out for the afternoon and they’re talking about a cruise on the water. Out of curiosity Heather--how do you feel about deep sea sport fishing, and what size bikini do you wear?


Ixnay on the Annelflay!


Much love,





To: HockeyKing@


From: DarqueLady@The


Hold it, Buster--


Sport fishing? As in Ernest Hemingway ‘let’s wrestle for hours with marlins and sharks before we cut the line and claim it was a lot of fun?’ THAT fishing? Count me out, Jim. It has no appeal for me, especially when you throw in the delightful option of capsizing the boat and drowning on top of it all. I’d much rather spend an afternoon snorkeling or sailing.


And exactly WHY do you need my bikini size, pray tell?


Suspicious (but not wearing flannel)











Sorry this note’s so late, but we just got back to the hotel about an hour ago and I’ve spent the last forty minutes scrubbing the stench of dead bonito out of my skin. I managed to get out of the fishing part of Emilio’s cruise, but it wasn’t easy, let me tell you. Apparently he and his cousin are trying to start a little charter business on the side, and I got roped into a trip.


Let me state for the record, I’m not that crazy about boats. Fortunately I didn’t have to actually do any fishing, just sort of watch and shoot the bull with everyone else, and since I wasn’t paying attention I neglected the sunscreen, so I now have some painful resemblance to a lobster. Emilio managed to land a few fish, but all in all it was a less than thrilling outing that I won’t be doing again anytime soon.


Ah, the bikini thing. Well, let’s just say there’s a nice display on the mannequin of the giftshop here at the hotel. Definitely—eye-catching and it makes me think of you every time I pass by it. I would hate to get it in a size too big, although too small wouldn’t bother me in the least, unless you wore it in public. Then it’s just a good thing I have a license to carry a gun, isn’t it?


Gotta go, last official day of police stuff. Home within a day or two, love you more than I can say—











Sending this off from a little cyberbooth here at the airport. Damn flight’s been delayed, so I won’t be getting in for at LEAST another four hours. Please don’t sweat about meeting me, I know you’ve got work, so I’ll get a cab and call you from the house once I’m in.


Remember, I can detect flannel a mile away, so be forewarned.


Eager for you,








Jim my love—


I’ve left a few notes for you at the house, and I’d appreciate it if you’d take them seriously. I know you’re tired and hungry, but I promise you it will all be worthwhile, and I’ll see you as soon as I can!


Waiting for you—






Note #1 (folded, taped on front door)


You’re home!! Wonderful! Leave your suitcases by the door, lock it behind you, and go straight to the kitchen. Do NOT fret about unpacking or laundry or any of that nonsense. You are entitled to relax!



Note #2 (Pinned to refrigerator by little green magnets)


Inside you’ll find a nice dry martini, complete with those little onions you seem to like. Go ahead and take it with you into the bathroom, since you’re probably headed there anyway.



Note #3 (taped to the mirror)


Soak a while, Jim! You’re tired and need the time to relax, I know. Once you’re clean, dry off and head to bed--



Note #4 (clipped across the back of one smirking, silk-clad woman)


Since you ARE the law, there’s no penalty for removing this—welcome home, darling!





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