Caitlin's Conspiracies
By
Mariella Starr
©2014 by Blushing Books® and Mariella Starr
All rights reserved.
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Starr, Mariella
Caitlin's Conspiracies
eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-3853
Cover Design by edhgraphics.blogspot.com
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Table of Contents:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
EPILOGUE
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Chapter 1
Wild Mustang Sanctuary, Patience Hills, Nevada, April
“This is WGB-TV, Wake Up Reno Morning News. Today’s show will feature segments on the Reno School Board elections, an interview with the White Pine County Sheriff’s Department about the two arrests in an investigation into a series of explosive devices found in several public buildings, and an interview with Barbara Filmore of the Wild Mustang Sanctuary in Patience Hills. Stay tuned and stay informed. This is Valerie Hannah of WGB-TV.”
“Cut!” a bored voice called.
Valerie Hannah gave a sigh and carefully made her way across the paddock in six-inch platform heels.
“Watch where you step.” Caitlin Randolph walked over with an easy smile on her face. The Mustang she was leading trailed behind her.
“I am,” Valerie, snapped shaking her head. “How can you stand it?” She wrinkled her nose as she navigated the paddock muck.
Caitlin laughed and stuck out her booted foot. “For one, I dress appropriately. Val, you grew up in a little ranching town. You knew what to expect and yet you come out here dressed like you’re covering a fashion shoot.”
Her sexily dressed friend responded with a rude finger gesture. “Can’t you house train those beasts? I can’t wait until I can get out of this town, out of this state! I want New York, or Los Angeles or Chicago.”
“Stick with Los Angeles or maybe Las Vegas,” Caitlin said grinning. “You’re too much of a sissy to survive winter in New York or Chicago and the first time someone bumped into you and broke one of those two-inch fingernails you’d be trying to sue the city.”
“So true,” Valerie said, backing away when the horse stepped a little too close for her comfort. “Oh, keep him away. This is a designer suit.” She paused and looked around. “So where is Barbara Filmore?”
Caitlin shrugged. “I don’t know she’s usually around by now.”
Thirty minutes later, the manager of the sanctuary still hadn’t arrived. Valerie was sitting in a lawn chair under an umbrella fanning her face with a sheath of papers when the cameraman stepped out of the van and spoke to her. Valerie waved her friend over.
“Frank got a call from the producer,” Valerie told her friend. “We can’t waste any more time here. If Ms. Filmore not here in five minutes we have to boogie.”
“We need this segment,” Caitlin said. “We need to get the word out that the sanctuary needs funds to keep operating.
“If she doesn’t show, why don’t you do it?” Valerie exclaimed with a bright smile.
“No way,” Caitlin said her eyes taking on a worried look.
“Why not?” Valerie whined. “Caitlin, you’re naturally gorgeous, like one of those Irish girls in that River Dance CD my mom watched all the time a few years back. You’re perfect for the camera - those incredible violet eyes, red hair and porcelain skin. I’ll let you in on a secret, honey… it pisses me off!”
Caitlin laughed at her friends’ nonsense, but she shook her head again looking off in the distance and hoping she’d see a plume of dust to indicate a vehicle coming up the ranch lane.
Five minutes later and Valerie stood up and looked at her friend with sad eyes. “I’m sorry Cait, but we can’t wait any longer. We have our orders. Time is money, and now we have to redo the intro and find another filler piece for tomorrow’s show.”
“Can’t you…”
“Honey, no,” Valerie, said. “Caitlin if you want the piece done, you’re going to have to do it.”
“I can’t,” Caitlin exclaimed.
“You can,” Valerie said patiently. “I know you don’t like being the center of attention, but the piece would probably work better with you in it anyway. The photo we pulled of Ms. Filmore shows that she isn’t exactly photogenic. Charitably we could call her a handsome woman. No matter how big a plea she makes for donations she won’t make much of an impact. Now, if we put you in front of the camera every red-blooded male in the viewing area will dip down into their wallets and send a donation praying that someday they’d run into you and be able to brag that they helped your cause.”
“I can’t.”
“Come on, girlfriend,” Valerie pleaded. “It’s for your beloved horses. It’s now or never.”
Caitlin looked conflicted. “This is only a local piece, right? It won’t go beyond Reno’s viewing?”
“I should be that lucky,” Valerie complained. “It’s about horses that will end up in a glue factory if the sanctuary doesn’t get donations because President Ford signed a bill that lets people get away with doing that again. Trust me, honey; it won’t be picked up any further than our two affiliates. I couldn’t be that lucky. It might not even run in those. It’s only a two-minute time slot. Please…”
Caitlin nodded reluctantly.
“Yes!” Valerie screamed in her very girly fashion. “Sit down, and give me five minutes with your face and hair!’
“I thought you said I was a natural,” Caitlin complained.
“Even natural beauty needs a little sparkle, sweetheart,” Valerie exclaimed, grabbing for her handbag. Reaching inside, she dug out a cosmetic case.
Valerie shouted over her shoulder at the cameraman to set up and got to work. She moisture-wiped Caitlin’s face, dabbed on eye shadow, liner, mascara, and a bit of lipstick, backed off and came back armed with a big fluffy brush to add a little blush and a multicolored powder. Looking over her friend, she let out a sigh.
“Is it that bad?” Caitlin demanded her nerves already on edge.
Valerie’s face lit up with a friendly smile. “It’s that good, girlfriend. I’m jealous. If I looked this good after just a few dabs of makeup, I’d be a very happy lady. Now, let’s get this show on the road!”
U.S. Marshal Office, District of Utah, Salt Lake City
Chase Bennett came in from a long day, sat down at his desk and leaned back, shutting his eyes. It had been an exhausting week, and he only had one more day to go. Friday was
his last day. He was turning in his badge and become a regular citizen again. He’d earned a retirement package, and he was heading for Henryville, Texas where he’d been raised and where he now planned to return to his roots. The plan was to become a rancher, at least until he finished getting his certification for his commercial pilot’s license and figuring out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. He wasn’t sure how that was going to work out yet, but he was willing to give it a try. He’d had twenty years of working in government services – eight in Marines, Special Operations, and twelve as a U.S. Marshal. At thirty-eight, he’d been in near-death situations three times as a Marine and been shot twice as a Marshal. The first time he’d been shot, it had only been a graze. The last time - eight months earlier - had changed his long-term career path from U.S. Marshal to pretty much anything that didn’t involve being a target. He’d decided he’d given enough of his time to government services, and it was time for a change. He’d given the service plenty of notice, and had been willing to do his best to close out all his open cases. Still, at least one a week, either his partner Blake Ford, or his boss Hank Stubbins, harangued him about staying on.
“Hey,” Blake Ford gave his partner a shove hard enough to make him open his eyes.
“What?” Chase growled.
“Hank wants to see you in his office.”
“Great,” Chase grumbled and got to his feet. “You can fill out a report on Grantree.”
Blake gave him the finger, but he was grinning.
Chase ambled over to his boss’ office and knocked.
“Get in here!” Hank Stubbins yelled from inside his office.
Chase opened the door, and Hank swiveled his computer screen around and called up a bookmark.
Chase didn’t bother to sit down. He stood transfixed, watching the computer screen as Caitlin Foster’s face appeared on it. There was a very tall black newswoman standing beside her, and they were talking about a Wild Mustang Sanctuary, in Patience Hills, Nevada. He stood watching as Caitlin appealed for donations to keep the foundation running.
“What the hell is she doing on the news?” Chase exploded.
“I asked the same question,” Hank said. “That segment was done for the WGB-TV morning news, Reno. It was picked up by the national networks, and it’s been shown on nearly every network nationwide.”
“Why in the hell was she allowed to do that?” Chase demanded.
Hank Stubbins gave one of his best men a hard look. “Calm down, Chase. Caitlin Foster, who is now going by the name of Eugenia Caitlin Randolph, left the Witness Protection Program two years ago.”
“What? Why wasn’t I told?” he demanded.
“For the same reason I wasn’t told,” Hank growled. “It was a Bureau screw-up. She entered the program five years ago and her relocations were compromised three times. Ray Delmond over in the Wisconsin Division told me she said ‘take your program and stick it up your asses,’ and walked out. She signed all the appropriate paperwork and disappeared. Since then, she’s kept a low profile. According to Delmond, they’ve occasionally run a check on her, but she’s kept herself reasonably tucked away. She’s been living in the small town of Kayhill, Nevada. I’ve already contacted the news station in Reno and told them to shred every hint of where she lives and give out no information on her. I’ve left four messages on her cell phone, but she’s not responding.”
“Idiot!” Chase snapped. “Sign me out boss. I’m outta here.”
“You wouldn’t be going to Kayhill would you?” Hank questioned loudly. “She’s out of our jurisdiction since she voluntarily left the program.”
“I’m not leaving her out there to face the Rigoltees alone!” Chase snapped. “I’m going to find her.”
“Then what?” Hank asked. “She doesn’t want our help anymore.”
“First, I’m going to find her. When I do I’m going to bust her ass!” Chase snarled. “She’s under my protection now!” Chase Bennett stormed out of the office.
Hank watched one of his best men storm out the door, picked up the phone and called the Human Resources department. “Linda, stop processing those papers for the release of Marshal Bennett on Friday. Set them aside until I give you a date to process him out, if he processes out at all.” He pulled his computer screen back to its normal position and began working on the forms needed to put Marshal Chase Bennett on protection detail for Caitlin Foster, WITSEC case number 131987.
Chase drove like a bat out of hell to get back to his apartment. Once there, he tossed some clothes into a duffle bag and fired up his work laptop. He downloaded a copy of the two-minute segment of Caitlin and watched it several times while he was waiting to get answers from his list of contacts. Caitlin Foster was more beautiful now at twenty-six than she’d been when he’d known her at twenty-one. She had the look of pure Irish, with porcelain skin and eight small freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks. He was well acquainted with those freckles, having taken the time count them as he’d watched her sleeping beside him. Her eyes were a startling violet. Everyone assumed they were the result of tinted contacts, but he knew they weren’t. She had lush lips and that glorious long red hair, streaked with pure fire. God, he had loved that hair and those lips. Aw, Hell! He’d loved everything about her. He loved her beauty, her spirit, her sexuality and her compact, athletic body. He’d made her his woman, but she hadn’t understood, and he hadn’t had time to explain because he’d had to let her go into the WITSEC program for her safety.
The last time he’d seen her, her appearance had been altered. She’d been a brunette and wearing brown contacts, and the stress of the Rigoltee trial had sucked the life and spirit out of her. From the television interview, it looked liked she’d been revitalized.
His priorities were set. He had to find her, he had to protect her and he had to reclaim her.
* * * * *
Eugenia Caitlin Randolph sat in a back booth of a local bar in Kayhill, NV. It was Friday night, and the place was busier than normal. Her best friend Valerie Hannah had gone to get another round of drinks, and that would take a while because Valerie was a guy magnet. She was a local girl that made good. She was beautiful and would likely be hit on a dozen times before she made it to the bar and back. Caitlin knew her looks drew attention, too, but she had the ability to cast out ‘I am not interested’ vibes. They were real and effective.
Valerie didn’t know it, but tonight was good-bye. Since the sanctuary story had hit the national networks, Caitlin had to move on. Valerie was beyond excited. Her friend was ever hopeful that an offer would come her way for a better job in network broadcasting. That same exposure was the reason Caitlin had to move on and she hated the idea of leaving Kayhill. The tiny town was a professional ghost town, depending heavily on the tourist trade to stay alive, and she loved it. She could work anywhere, but she loved Kayhill. Since the town population was less than two hundred, she knew almost everyone. She called all the residents her friends - the storekeepers, the minister and the everyday people trying to eke out a living. She’d tucked herself into Kayhill two years ago, and it had become home. She would miss it.
“Hey, don’t be looking so sad.” Valerie had returned to set several mixed drinks on the table. “These are from those two guys over there. Nod and smile at them. The guy in the blue shirt says he’s sells insurance - he’s mine. The guy in the white shirt says he’s a car salesman, but his hands say differently. He’s probably a farmer or a cowhand and he’s interested in you. They’re both tourists. Are you interested?”
Caitlin eyes barely flickered in their direction. “Not really.”
Valerie looked over her shoulder and gave the guys a negative shrug. “God, I need to get laid. I need some good, mindless sex. I think you need it worse than me. I don’t think you’ve gone out in what, forever. Probably, not since I left this hole-in-the-wall. At least when I lived here, I’d drag you out occasionally to meet a guy.”
“I don’t do casual sex,” Caitlin said car
efully.
“Have you ever had sex at all?” Valerie whispered.
Caitlin laughed. “Of course I have.”
“Then, honey, spill all the details. If I can’t have it, I need to at least hear about it. Did someone break your heart?” Valerie asked wistfully. Caitlin noticed her friend’s eyes were already slightly glassy from drink.
Caitlin took a sip of her drink. Why not? She’d tell her story, and she’d be gone tomorrow, never to see her friend again. She gave a shrug. “I had several sexual encounters in college. They were inexperienced boys, but I was an inexperienced girl. We fumbled around, but it wasn’t anything special. I realized afterward that I really didn’t feel anything for them. It was kind of strange and a little disappointing.”
“Honey, you haven’t met the right guy yet,” Valerie said in a hushed voice.
“Oh, I met him,” Caitlin said softly. “I was twenty-one and he was it. We both knew it the moment we laid eyes on each other. He’s gorgeous. He has the most amazing dark blue eyes. They are as blue as that sapphire on your finger. He’s got light brown hair streaked with blonde, but it’s natural. He’s not the kind of guy that would go to a hair stylist, let alone have streaks put in his hair. He’s six-foot-five, all muscle and big.” She laughed at her friend’s expression. “Big, everywhere,” she repeated and Valerie’s eyes grew large with appreciation. “From the moment we met there was a sexual charge any time we came close to one another.”
“And?” Valerie prompted.
Caitlin took sip of her drink and shrugged. “There were extenuating circumstances at the time that I can’t explain. We only knew each other for nine days. For the first six days, we were never alone, and we were both sexually charged and about to ignite. I’m kind of surprised that no one noticed or the room didn’t explode from spontaneous combustion. Something happened, I don’t know what, and the men he was working with had to go and we were left alone for two days.”
Valerie waited her eyes still wide open and her tongue running along the salty rim of her glass.
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