Part 1 of 3 - The Proposal

Her practice dead, Maude spent hours at the office watching movies on her laptop. She didn't really mind not having any clients. At least being bored in her law office was better than being bored in a prison cell.

It was bad enough being such an attractive woman and not being able to get a date after having been locked up for a year. It also seemed, to her surprise, that no one wanted to be represented by the infamous 'Blonde Widow', despite her being acquitted of all three counts.

The intercom on her desk buzzed, startling her. It had been so long since that happened she'd almost forgotten she had a secretary.

Pressing the button, she asked, "Yes, Shelly?"

"There's someone here for a consultation, Ms. Von Straus."

"Has he made an appointment?"

The silence that greeted Maude's ridiculous question expressed more than Shelly could have said.

"Fine," Maude said, gritting her teeth. "Send him in. What's the client's name?"

Whispering, Shelly said, "It's Michael Davenport. You know, that hot rich guy from--"

"I know who Michael Davenport is, Shelly. I was in prison, not on Mars. Just stall him a couple minutes and send him in when I buzz you."

"Will do."

Maude closed her laptop, jumped up and scurried into the bathroom. After a makeup and clothing check, she applied lipstick, eyeliner, and then popped open the top button on her blouse.

Her hair was a mess, so she went with it and fluffed the curls. All the while she wondered what in the devil such a rich, available bachelor would want with her, a criminal lawyer, especially one that just got acquitted for murdering three rich husbands.

This guy had a reputation for being a playboy. He dated actresses and porn stars, but had never been with one longer than a few months, so was probably not interested in getting married, especially not to her.

Whatever the case, before he left her office he was either going to pay her a lot of money, or bang her on the desk. She'd make certain of that.

She took a few deep breaths, walked back into the office, and faced the door. Crossing her legs and leaning back on her desk casually, she hit the buzzer on the intercom.

Michael Davenport opened her door, and walked in. The man was Adonis in a suit.

She gave him her most sultry smile, and walked forward, holding out her hand.

"Mr. Davenport, I'm Maude Von Straus. It's such a pleasure."

He smiled back. "Hello, the pleasure's all mine," he said, taking her hand. "Call me Mike, please. And do you mind Maude, or would you prefer Mrs. Von Straus?"

"It's Ms. Von Straus, but Maude is perfect." He unclasped her hand, and Maude retreated behind her desk, motioning for him to sit in one of the two client chairs. "So, Mike, what brings you to my humble law office? It seems strange that a resourceful business man such as yourself would need my services."

"First off, Maude, I'd like to retain you before I share anything. What's your fee?"

"That depends. What are you retaining me for?"

"Just for the lawyer-client confidentiality, I'm here to talk and I'd rather do that freely."

His piercing blue eyes were dreamy, and quite stunning. Maude almost didn't hear what he'd said. She shook her head to stop herself from staring and answered.

"That's only two hundred and fifty then."

Mike smiled, pulled a bank roll out of his pocket and peeled off three hundreds, tossing them on her desk. "Keep the change," he said.

She smiled back, halfheartedly, and took the money, inwardly frowning because his cash was on the desk instead of her naked ass, but their meeting was far from over and she hoped things might heat up soon.

She dropped the cash in the top drawer, and grabbed her receipt book.

After writing out the receipt, she tore it off and slid it to him. "So, if that's all you want to do is talk... then go ahead, Mike. I'm very... attentive."

"I bet you are," he said, checking the receipt and slipping it in his suit jacket. "You dodged quite a bullet, being acquitted of all three counts I mean."

Maude lost her smile. "I thought you were here to discuss your issues?"

"Your issues are my issues, Maude. You see, I've murdered several people myself, and I've come to you to--"

"Excuse me?" Maude said, stopping him in mid-sentence. "Did you say you've murdered several people?"

"Yes, six so far, actually, mostly women, although there was this one French guy who pissed me off so bad that I--"

"There's so many things wrong with what you've just said that I don't know where to start. First, I was found not guilty of murdering my husbands. Second--"

Mike scoffed, making her angry as hell. He added, "Oh, come on, Maude. Everyone knows you did it. I'm just--"

"Second," Maude interrupted, practically shouting. Glaring at him, nearly furious, in a calm, even tone she said, "Second, you can't just waltz into a lawyer's office and confess to being a serial killer."

Mike pursed his lips, furrowed his brow and tilted his head. "Why not?"

Was this guy stupid? She shook her head in complete disbelief. "Because... because it's unethical. I can't have knowledge of a crime. I have to report it or be disbarred."

"What would you report, Maude? I didn't give any details. You don't know the names of my victims. Everything I've said so far is merely here-say. You can't report here-say, can you?"

"Well, no, but I'm warning you right now. You're treading on very thin ice."

He paused, a devilish grin growing as he gazed deep into her eyes. "I'm very light on my feet," he said with a wink.

Maude slowly shook her head, frowning at his audacious hubris. Michael Davenport was great to look at, but, apparently, he was either a moronic prankster or a psychotic killer. She hoped it turned out to be the latter.

Desperate as she was, there was no way she'd debase herself by banging a moron, no matter how good looking he was. It troubled her to ponder, but a murderer, on the other hand, would probably turn out to be her soul mate. "Just get to the point, Mr. Davenport. Why are you here?"

"I'm here to ask you to marry me, Maude."

Maude's mouth fell open. For the first time, maybe ever, she was speechless.

He smiled fiendishly as he talked. "We've both got skeletons in our respective closets. You've killed three rich husbands, and so I'm guessing I fit your profile, while I've killed a handful of blondes. So you fit mine.

"I figure we deserve each other and should tie the knot. I'm rich, so I'll draw up a pre-nup that will make you my sole heir if I end up dead. And, as for you, I'll take out a huge life insurance policy so I'll be compensated... err, in the event of your demise.

"Of course, you're a tasty looking morsel, and some say I'm fairly decent looking, so I am proposing we agree to enjoy our honeymoon first, safe from any harm to either of us.

"However, once we get back from a hot honeymoon, then the game is on, and may the better murderer win."

Silence filled the office as Maude remained at a loss for words.

Mike smiled whimsically, and got down on one knee. "So, what do you think, Maude? Will you marry me?"

She couldn't decide whether she felt overwhelmed with love for this man or overwhelmed with terror. All Maude knew was that she hadn't felt this intense of an emotion in a very, very long time.

Without another thought she said, "Yes, Mike. God help me, yes, I think... I think I really will marry you."

"Splendid," he said. "I swear to make you happy, Maude, for the rest of your short little life, that is."

Maude chuckled. "Well, we'll just have to see about that, won't we? But first," she said, methodically unbuttoning her blouse, "Get over here, Mike. I want to see if my new fiance lives up to his playboy reputation."

END OF PART ONE

Part 2 of 3 - The Honeymoon

The ecstasy wouldn't quit. If this were just chemistry, like she kept telling herself, then it had to be nuclear-fucking-fusion.

Maude and Mike couldn't seem to get enough of each other. It wasn't just the sex, which was the best she ever had. It was on every level. She actually enjoyed talking to him.

He was funny, conscientious, and blunt, but never rude. On top of it all, the man was a genius.

Maude always considered herself smarter than anyone she'd ever met, regardless of their education or reputation.

In the past she'd discussed proper techniques for performing renal surgery with a renowned thoracic surgeon. She'd astounded her State appointed psychiatrist for the criminally insane with her grasp of Freudian concepts and psychotherapy, and she'd even completed an equation for a famous physics professor back when she was in college.

Hell, she'd represented herself in court and had gotten away with murdering her three rich husbands.

Yet, somehow, Mike made her feel like a mental midget, and she absolutely loved that about him.

On the third night after their wedding, following an especially intense session of coital congress with her new husband, Maude melted into his arms, enjoying everywhere their bodies touched.

"I love you," she whispered.

Mike chuckled.

"I'm serious. I don't want to kill you."

He kissed her forehead. "I don't want to kill you either, baby."

She pulled away, and whacked his bare chest. "I mean it, Mike. I really love you. I want to be your wife."

"You are my wife."

"I want to grow old with you, and die... of natural causes. Are you hearing me? I actually fucking love you. What do you say? What do you think about that?"

Mike shrugged, and frowned. "I think you're trying to get me to drop my guard, and as soon as we get home and I'm all starry-eyed in love, you'll kiss me good morning and then put arsenic in my fucking cheerios."

Maude sneered and turned away, pouting.

"Come on, baby. You knew the deal. 'Til death do us part, right? We got such a kick out of that at the wedding. Why are you trying to bring us down?"

"Because I fell in love with you, you bastard, I don't want to kill you."

Mike laughed. "Then I guess I know who's going to get a nice big insurance check, eh?"

She slapped him hard. "Shut the fuck up, jerk."

"That's the spirit, baby. Only next time, instead of slapping, just go grab a butcher knife and strike repeatedly. Then maybe you can claim there was an intruder."

Mike chuckled, shut off the light, and settled down to sleep. After a few minutes of silent darkness, Maude whispered, "I'll never kill you, Mike. I won't do it."

He whispered back. "Doesn't matter, baby, because I will kill you. That's what I do... and that's what you do, too. That's what we do."

"Maybe... maybe we can change. Do you think we can change?"

Mike didn't answer, and after a few minutes the sound of his even breathing told her he'd fallen asleep.

Maude stood up and walked to the kitchenette. She opened a drawer and took out a butcher knife, just like he'd suggested. She walked back to his side of the bed, and raised it up over him.

Just then his eyes opened. He smiled up at her.

"I could kill you right now," she said.

"Look down, baby." He wagged something in his hand that was tenting the sheet. Then he pulled the sheet aside to reveal a .38 revolver pointing up at her.

"Actually, I could kill you right now."

"Go ahead," she said. "Do it. Because I'd rather shove this knife in my own chest than shove it in yours."

"Really? Is that why you're holding it over my head?"

She dropped her arms to her side. "I just wanted to see if I could do it, and I can't. I've fallen in love with you, Michael. I guess you will be collecting on my insurance policy, because there's no way I'll ever be able to hurt you."

"I guess so, then," he said, putting his gun under his pillow and fluffing it at the same time. "Now go put your knife away, and let's get some sleep."

Three days later, looking out at the ocean from a chartered cruise, Mike turned to her and said, "I love you, too, Maude." He took her in his arms and kissed her with more passion than she'd ever felt.

It was the greatest kiss ever, and she knew he loved her.

After the kiss, she panted, recovering with her head resting on his chest. "Will you kill me then, Mike? Will you?"

"No, I won't do it. I can't do it."

Maude looked up at him, hopelessly lost in his eyes. "I can't either," she said, happier than she'd ever been in her life.

Then a thought occurred to her. Was he setting her up? She pulled away, looking for some sign in his gaze. He smiled back in pure adoration.

"What's wrong," he asked.

"Are you... are you setting me up?"

Mike laughed and shrugged. "Maybe, I don't know. I'm a very spontaneous person. I really wouldn't trust me if I were you."

Maude liked that answer. She hugged him close, and knew she'd never hurt him, no matter what he might do to her.

"I'll never kill you, Mike," she said. "Not for all the money in the world, but if you have to kill me I'll understand. It's what you do, and I love you for it. I love you no matter what. I always will."

END OF PART 2

Part 3 of 3 - The Funeral

(to be added in the near future)