by Jan Graham
A silent curse filled in his head, the box of condoms an accusing reminder of his neglect to protect her. They’d talk about the possible repercussions later, hope for the best, and he’d make sure he never forgot to use the damn things again. Tonight though, he just wanted to hold Rhia in his arms.
She snuggled against him, gazing dreamily into his eyes.
My contented little kitten.
He kissed her forehead and stroked his hand over her soft hair. She was his. How on earth had that happened? His life had changed in the blink of an eye the moment she moved in across the road. Rhia was different from the women he’d slept with since Kathy had left him. He hadn’t admitted it immediately, but he had known nonetheless. She warmed the cold ache in his heart, she eased the loneliness, and her body comforted his. Her very existence and presence in his life was making him complete again. He just hoped she felt the same about him. He also hoped he was right about her ability to become the submissive he desired. He’d have to bring her around to the idea slowly. He couldn’t rush it. Despite the request for him to spank her, he knew Rhia had no idea what the lifestyle entailed. He’d guide her, give her the information she needed, and wait until he believed she was ready to be trained as his sub.
“Do you have any idea what you just did, Rhia?” She shook her head, still too breathless to speak. “You just submitted to my will, and there was no spanking required.”
“I did?” The startled look on her face caused him to smile.
“You did. Submission isn’t just about being spanked, sweetheart. Submission is an act of surrender, and it takes many forms. It’s not about physical pain or pleasure, although that can be part of it. It’s about offering a precious gift of trust, surrender, and obedience to a Dominant other. In return the Dom honors you by offering guidance, protection, and care.”
“Well, where does the spanking fit in?”
“That can be many things…discipline, foreplay, punishment. It’s a sexual and lifestyle activity, but it’s not always practiced.”
“You’re never going to spank me, are you?”
He smiled as the sulky little pout appeared on her face again. “Never is a very long time, Rhia, but… if you don’t wipe that pout of your face, I might just have to give you an introductory lesson.”
Chapter Fifteen
“You’ve made me look like an uncaring fool, Superintendent Jax, and I refuse to be party to whatever game you think you can play with the press. This is my school, these are my students and I will not have you interfering. I can use the media as well, you know. I’m not past issuing my own statement denouncing your bullying tactics,” Harper snapped into the phone.
She couldn’t believe the circus she’d found herself in over the last few days, and it was all Steve Jax’s fault. The man was a manipulative, condescending shithead. He smiled nicely while using all the power at his disposal to get his own way. Death had probably been a relief for his wife. He would be the most infuriating man to live with. He reminded her too much of her ex-husband. He’d been a bully as well.
Harper continued to listen as he reiterated his demands. She would allow access to the school for a drug education program, the children of the school would have access to the counseling offered by the social worker, and she would support the actions or face an official complaint to the school authority. Harper snarled silently as he spoke. Why did she have to pick an area to try and set up her new business where the local police had a social conscience? Harper knew she was beat. The longer she delayed letting Mr. Jax have his way, the more heartless she would look.
Parents had been phoning the school non-stop since Monday morning.
When could their little darling see the social worker? What day was their child scheduled to attend the drug education program? Did she think the parents could be included in the education program, so they would know the signs to look for if their children were using drugs? Blah, blah, fucking hysterical blah!
She had better things to do than helping the police ruin her thriving new business. Yes, there had been a few deaths and some hospitalizations. It wasn’t her fault. They bought and took the drug. She didn’t force the shit down their stupid little throats, or however they chose to use the stuff. Whatever happened to free choice? Young people made their own decisions, and if they nearly died, it was their problem.
“Has it ever occurred to you that the children have all the drug education they need with six of their classmates lying sick or nearly dead in hospital? If you ask me, the drug manufacturers have done a perfect job of educating children about the dangers of drug use. If they persist in taking drugs, then that’s their own stupid fault. If they die, it means there is one less idiot in the world, which, in my view, is a good thing.”
It wasn’t really a good thing, but she had to give that impression. It was, in fact, one less buyer for her product. Sales from the weekend had been phenomenal. She’d made a killing. Well, technical nearly six killings, but that wasn’t her fault. If the users didn’t have the physical constitution to cope with the ingredients, then they shouldn’t use the product. After all, drugs shouldn’t have to carry a warning label, not the illegal ones at least.
“I must say Ms. Roderick I’m quite surprised by your attitude. Does the state’s education authority know about your unique approach to drug education, your disregard for students’ lives, and your support of the drug industry as a method of eradicating so-called idiots from the world?”
“You’re twisting my words. that’s not what I meant, and it’s not my attitude at all.” Harper snapped.
“Forgive my misunderstanding. So you’re totally on board with the proposed education program to give the young people who attend your school the confidence and knowledge they need in order to say no to drugs.”
“It just seems the proposal may be disruptive to the children’s education and—”
“You’d prefer more students died while you see if drug education can be slotted into a more convenient time.” Harper tried to formulate a response.
“Again you’ve misunderstood.”
“No I don’t believe I have. I understand that you’re trying to stop this proposal. What I don’t understand is why. Now, I’m quite prepared to investigate why you’re afraid to have my officers at the school. I’m also prepared to work directly with the education department to force you to allow access to the students. As you know, I’m also happy to speak to the media about issues that affect the community and a principal who has no interest protecting the children she teaches is definitely news worthy. Now when can we start the program?”
“How dare you threaten me!” Harper couldn’t believe the audacity of the man.
“You’ve misunderstood Ms. Roderick. None of what I just said was a threat. If I’d intended to threaten you I would have said, if you don’t agree to this program I’ll have you fired and run out of town so fast your head will spin. Do you see the difference?” Harper hated semantics, except when she used them. “Now should I read the program to you over the phone so you have a better understanding of the dangers of drug use? In case your reluctance to running the program is based on ignorance of the facts.”
She flicked through the roster of classes before her. The secretary had handed it to her for final approval before putting through Steve Jax’s call. Harper had already decided to bend over for him. She just hoped the decision didn’t end up getting her fucked.
It would take one week for the drug education program to run throughout the school. The criteria that the groups be kept to classroom size, less than thirty students, meant running the program over a longer period of time. A week where two police officers were present at the school throughout the day wasn’t something she needed. They’d mingle with the students, possibly hear rumors, and gather information that would be potentially damaging to her cause. Damn Steve Jax to hell.
“You can shut up now, Superintendent. I don’t need to hear anything further about the damaging effects of drug
s. It was drugs that ended my marriage and prompted my divorce some years ago now. Despite my objections to your request, I realize you will keep pestering me until I capitulate. I have the roster here, and I’ll fax it over today. The program can begin Monday as requested.”
Harper could imagine the smug look on his face. At least he thanked her politely and didn’t gloat as he ended the call.
Harper walked to the window and looked out at the sea of faces milling around the playground. Each one had the potential to be cash in her pocket. If the police managed to stop even one potential user from buying her product, that affected her bottom dollar. Profits were something Harper took seriously, and that was the main reason she hadn’t taken the bad batch of drugs off the market. She needed the money. The other reason they were still being sold was because she really didn’t care if they killed anyone.
Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Newton’s third law of physics planted itself firmly in her mind. The police were pushing her, their actions threatened her business, and she needed to push back. She’d have to devise a counter attack against the education classes. At this point though, she had no idea how to do that.
* * * *
What a bizarre, obnoxious woman. Steve couldn’t believe the conversations he’d had with Harper Roderick over the past few days. He couldn’t figure the woman out.
One minute she was agreeing that there was a problem, the next she was resisting any attempt to protect the kids in the community. She wasn’t a stupid woman though. She’d realized early on that he was forcing her into a corner with the press release. Still, she’d try to maneuver out of having the police attend the school. Monday had been a polite day. She’d agreed to have a roster drawn up and thanked him for his concern. Tuesday, the worm had turned and she’d decided that the drug education program wasn’t necessary and they couldn’t possibly fit it into the class schedule. Wednesday it had taken him all day to get to speak to her, and she was still fobbing him off with excuses like, these things take time to organize. Thursday, still nothing had been confirmed.
He’d started to look at other options, lines of complaint, checking out the ramifications of officers walking into the school and taking over classes. The last one wasn’t really an option, it broke all kinds of protocol, but it had crossed Steve’s mind. And now here he was, after yet another odd conversation, waiting for a roster to arrive from the woman who thought a kid dying was an effective education program in itself.
He went over the conversation in his mind. She’d mentioned she was divorced. He vaguely remembered being told she was single, he’d assumed because no man would be able to tolerate living with her. Well, maybe not her, just her attitude. It was drugs that ended my marriage and prompted my divorce some years ago…interesting. Not a statement he expected from a woman who didn’t seem interested in addressing the problem now facing her community. If she had lived with a drug addict, wouldn’t she want to do everything in her power to assist the police to stamp the problem out?
He’d had his fill of bizarre women this week, or at least information relating to them. His conversation with Trevor Duncan in relation to the burn patient, Elizabeth Hastings, had been less than enlightening. It appeared Elizabeth Hastings no longer existed. The last known address for her turned out to be owned by a high profile business man and his family.
They’d purchased the home not long after the death of Elizabeth’s ex-husband, Adrian Hastings. No current address existed for her. Funds from the sale of the home had been withdrawn as cash two months after the sale and all bank accounts in her name had been closed. Her driver’s license expired and hadn’t been renewed, credit cards cancelled. No property was owned in her name, and no vehicles were registered to her. The only form of identification to remain active was the medical card, the address still listed as the home she sold nearly four years ago. The woman had dropped off the face of the planet, until the night of the fire.
Steve didn’t believe in coincidences. Elizabeth Hastings had been at that blaze. The expensive bag with the monogrammed wallet belonged to a woman who liked the finer things in life. Even the charred initials on the purse bore testimony to her. H.E.H…he wasn’t sure what the first H stood for, but the others said Elizabeth Hastings to him.
Trevor had assigned one of his detectives to continue to investigate the whereabouts of Ms. Hastings. They’d found nothing to date. Previous known friends reported that she’d either left the country or moved interstate, stating that Elizabeth was embarrassed by publicity over Adrian’s death, and constant media reports from the criminal trials of those associated with him. The strangest fact of all appeared to be that her two adult children had no contact with her. Her son and daughter had each received a note from their mother stating she had sold the house and was moving. She didn’t even provide them with new personal details in case they needed to contact her. Her daughter’s attempts to find Elizabeth had been unsuccessful, so she’d stopped looking. Steve had no idea why a mother would just leave her family to fend for themselves. Of course, both children were grown by the time she walked out of their lives, but still, it was something he couldn’t understand.
Steve walked over to the whiteboard and updated the new information they had about the elusive Ms. Hastings. The only connection they had was the high school, which really wasn’t a link at all considering the size of their community.
“This case investigation gets more bizarre every day.” Carlie burst through the door without knocking and headed straight for the board.
Steve smiled as she rubbed out sleazy mystery man, the name she insisted be used for the guy who’d approached Bethany. She replaced it with Jaxon Macleod and turned to face Steve with a smile larger than the Cheshire cat’s.
“So your visit to Rebecca Purcell paid off?” It was the only place Carlie had been all day. Ms. Purcell lived out of the area, approximately three hours away. Carlie had left at the crack of dawn to go and see her, a planned meeting to fit in with Rebecca’s work schedule. Carlie looked tired, the drive had obviously been an exhausting one, but the satisfaction on her face as she added Jaxon’s name to the board indicated she thought the trip was worthwhile.
“I have more than a name.” She flopped down onto a chair. “Did I not say things get more bizarre the more information we get?”
“You did, so let’s hear it.” Steve was particularly interested in hearing why she’d made a link with a question mark on it between Elizabeth Hastings and Jaxon MacLeod.
“Jaxon MacLeod is the disowned son of a wealthy electronics entrepreneur. He doesn’t have an address though, so that sucks. It means we have no idea where he lives. He was disowned after he left school because his family didn’t like the people he associated with. I’m not sure who they were. His mother described them as undesirable, hard-drinking, drug-taking types.”
“When did you have a chance to speak to his mother?”
“Let me finish, and I’ll tell you…jeez.” Carlie rolled her eyes, obviously frustrated by the interruption. “His mother was at Rebecca’s today, visiting her grandson. I also suspect that Becky told her I was coming to talk to her, and the family wanted someone else to witness the interview. Not that they said that, but it was the feeling I got. Rebecca didn’t know the name of the woman. She was glassed in the face with a broken bottle and during the attack. The woman warned her to stay away from Jaxon or face the consequences. Rebecca assumed it was the older woman Jaxon was seeing at the time but didn’t have any proof. She didn’t want the police called or charges laid because she was pregnant. She was scared if she went to the police the woman would do more than cut her face.”
“Did she say anything else about Jaxon and drug involvement?”
“Rebecca said he told her much the same as Bethany reported to you. He was working with the woman to set up a business that would make him lots of money. He said he was only keeping the woman around until everything was established. He told her he was going to be manufacturing
party essentials. Which she assumed was drugs but didn’t really want to hear the details.
“Rebecca maintains she thought his relationship with the woman was a business one or she wouldn’t have dated him. They were together for three months before the attack. It was after the attack she found out she was pregnant, but Jaxon never came near her again. The mobile number she used to contact him was disconnected by the time she was released from hospital.
“She gave me the name of the club she met him at, and the names of some of the men he used to associate with. They’re all nicknames and probably of no use to us…Fitzy, Richo, Knocker, Fists, and DH.”
“How did the Macleod family get involved with this if he’d been disowned?”
“Oh, talk about fate. His older sister was a medical intern at the hospital when Rebecca was treated. She heard Becky ask one of the nurses to call her boyfriend, realized it was her brother and made sure Becky was okay. She contacted her mother and father when the pregnancy test came back positive. Once they knew Becky was pregnant, they remained in contact.”
“None of this explains the link between Elizabeth Hastings and Macleod.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Carlie frowned. “This bit might be coincidence, which is why I put the question mark up there. Jaxon used to attend the same private college as the Hastings children. He’s the youngest in the Macleod family by a few years, but his older siblings were friends of the Hastings kids. The two families socialized because of that. The mother said they never had much to do with Adrian, but they knew Elizabeth quite well. So Elizabeth Hastings and Jaxon Macleod have a known association, and they both have an association to drugs. They possibly have nothing to do with each other, but she is an older woman and he is a younger man. It’s probably all a coincidence, but I thought it needed to be noted.”