Caitlin's Conspiracies

by Mariella Starr

  Mr. Hornsby, the owner, wasn’t real happy with the idea of knocking on the door of a person that the U.S. Marshal said he was putting under protective custody. He gave the man who’d stepped out of sight one last disgruntled look before he pounded on the door of room 23.

  “Ms. Potter, Ms. Potter. I know it’s kind of late ma’am, but there’s been an accident.”

  The door opened, but the chain was still on. “What’s wrong?”

  “Ma’am a big truck hauling a trailer pulled into the parking lot to turn around. They’re not supposed to do that. We’ve got a sign posted ‘no turn-around’ but it don’t do much good. Anyway, when he pulled out he hit a vehicle. I checked the plate against your registration, and it’s yours.”

  The door closed, the chain was released and the door reopened. Edwina Caitlin Potter stepped out wearing a pair of sweats, and an oversized T-shirt. She looked around carefully before she focused on the motel manager. “How much damage was done?” she demanded as she quickly walked across the asphalt.

  “Well, ma’am it looks bad…”

  Caitlin felt the jerk of her arms behind her back, and before she could even react, her hands were cuffed behind her back. She whirled around as the owner of the hotel took off at a run for his office.

  “Goddamn it!” Caitlin yelled. “You scared me to death!”

  “Well, you haven’t done me much good lately either, sweetheart,” Chase snarled, picking Caitlin up around her waist and hauling her back to her motel room. He gave a casual wave to the owner, who’d actually done a good job of acting and slammed the door shut.

  “Where’s my equipment bag?” Chase demanded.

  “I left it in the Jeep,” Caitlin said.

  “You’re not that stupid,” Chase retorted. He grabbed her duffle bag, rummaging through it before dropping it carelessly to the floor. He opened a small closet, and found his computer bag and his equipment bag. He checked over his weapons to make sure they were all there. He went over to Caitlin, turned her around and unlocked one of handcuffs. Dragging her over to an exposed plumbing pipe, he hooked the other around it and snapped it closed.

  “You don’t have any right to keep me cuffed!” Caitlin yelled.

  “That will keep you in place until I’m finished!” he growled and walked out of the room.

  Caitlin tugged on the pipe, but it was solid cast iron with no give. She heard a car pull up outside and the door opened. Chase went over and opened his computer case, relieved to find everything was still in working order.

  “I didn’t mess with anything,” Caitlin said, but he only gave her an angry look.

  Chase picked up her duffle next.

  “Hey, you don’t have any right to be in that without a warrant!” she protested, but Chase never hesitated.

  With his usual thoroughness, he went through all her clothing, boots and shoes. He worked his way through her stuff until he got to the plastic Zip-loc bags of make-up and personal hygiene products. He opened every bottle and inspected every box until he found the bag of pills.

  “What are these?” he demanded.

  “DFSA, the date rape drug,” Caitlin admitted.

  “Exactly,” Chase demanded.

  Caitlin shrugged. “I don’t know. I bought them off the Internet. They come from a reputable dealer.”

  Chase closed his eyes. “Words like ‘reputable’ and ‘date rape drug ‘don’t belong in the same sentence. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to buy drugs off the Internet? You could have killed me!”

  “Obviously, I didn’t,” Caitlin snapped. “How did you find me?”

  “My business,” Chase snapped, and walked over to release her from the pipe. But he didn’t let go of her. Instead, he walked her over to the only chair, pulled her hands in front of her and cuffed them back together before pushing her back into the chair.

  Caitlin yelped as her bottom hit the chair cushion. “Damn it Chase! I hurt!”

  “Good,” he said dangerously. “Because the way I’m feeling right now, I’m going to add to it!”

  Caitlin glared at him.

  “Talk to me!” Chase demanded.

  “About what?”

  “Let’s start with why you left the program and move along to the point where I was drugged and left handcuffed to a bed, stark naked!”

  Caitlin shifted uncomfortably in the chair and gave it up. She’d been trying to find a way to sit all day without it hurting and hadn’t found it yet.

  “I left the program because the whole thing is a farce!” Caitlin snapped. “I was promised that I would be protected and taken care of, and I wasn’t!”

  “In what way?” Chase demanded.

  “Okay, let’s start with protection. Oh, I was protected during the trial - the D.A. and the U.S. Marshals did their part to keep me alive so that Charles Rigoltee would be put away. Clifford Stevens, the District Attorney got a big promotion out of it and when Senator Reynolds was killed in an accident. The Governor appointed the position to Clifford Stevens. Rumor has it he’ll be campaigning for the job permanently this election. However, the promises that were made to me, well, they were a crock!”

  “You were relocated and given a new identity for your safety,” Chase said. “That was all explained to you prior to you agreeing to testify.”

  “I was relocated into a goddamned slum!” Caitlin exploded. “The place was disgusting. It came with street gangs, roaches and mice! I was given a minimum wage waitressing job, and even with the differential stipend, I was living at the poverty level. My relocations were compromised three times and each time I was moved with very little choice about where I would go, what kind of job I’d be given, or even the name I would carry! What about quality of life, Chase? I didn’t expect to be compensated for testifying against Charles Rigoltee, but I did expect some kind of a quality life. I didn’t expect to be dumped into mediocre jobs that bored me to death and to have to go into hiding for the rest of my life.

  I have three degrees in computer sciences, Chase! Not to toot my own horn, but I’m considered a freaking genius in software gaming development! The closest I got to work in my field was as a data entry clerk. The money I was earning was as fraction of what I was earning before, even with the stipend given to me by the program. My bank account was frozen and every time I inquire about when it will be released to me, I get the run around and excuses. Either the District Attorney or the U.S. Marshal’s Office has stolen 1.8 million dollars from me. And in all their grand arrogance, they act like I’m in the wrong for wanting to know what happened to it!”

  “You knew your life would be different after you testified against Charles Rigoltee. It was necessary to get him put away. Your life was in danger,” Chase said wearily.

  “What did I get out of it, Chase?” Caitlin demanded. “Oh, I’ve heard all the fancy speeches about duty and sacrifice to put a criminal syndicate mastermind and murderer behind bars, but what really happened? Charles Rigoltee was sentenced to thirty-eight years in prison. He’ll probably be out in twelve, earlier if he finds the right person on the parole board to bribe. His son, Richard took over daddy’s business, and it was business as usual. Drugs are still being sold, crimes are still being committed and women are still being forced into prostitution. What I did fixed nothing but it ruined my life. Well, I tried it on your terms, and I hated it. I decided to live on my terms and it’s been working out fine. I live where I want to live and I do what I want to do. I made a mistake by doing the news feature, so what? WITSEC has been fucking me over ever since I went into the program, and no one holds them accountable!”

  Chase walked over and unlocked the cuffs and she got to her feet, putting the room’s width between them.

  “Go home, Chase,” Caitlin said wearily. “I’ll survive this. I have contingency plans, and I trust my skills a whole lot more than I do the agencies’.”

  “No,” Chase said stubbornly. “Richard Rigoltee and his partner Sheldon Connors are worse than Charles Rigoltee. They will
come after you. You need protection.”

  “It’s my problem, not yours,” Caitlin said.

  “I’m making it my problem,” Chase promised.

  “Why?” Caitlin demanded. “We had two days of sex five years ago. It was great, but it was a long time ago.”

  “Have you forgotten it?” Chase asked.

  Caitlin shut her eyes and turned her back on him. “I don’t want you involved.”

  “I’ve been involved for five years,” Chase said. “I was coming for you. Yesterday was supposed to be my last day. I was turning in my badge.”

  “It wouldn’t work. The last thing you said to me before you left was that you were a dominant man. I looked that up on the Internet.” She shook her head. “I can’t, I won’t be part of that. It was awful. Men were leading women around in collars and in hoods, calling them names, degrading them. They were beating them with whips and canes. No, I won’t be a part of that.”

  “I’m not that kind of a dominant man,” Chase said smiling.

  “You beat me yesterday,” Caitlin shot back, and a single tear slipped out and ran down her cheek.

  Chase went to her and pulled her to him. “I spanked you. There’s a huge difference in a man taking his woman over his knee and what you saw on the Internet. There are all kinds of levels of S/M and dominant behavior. Most of the men and women that are into that do it willingly because they like that lifestyle. Whatever people choose to do in their private lives, unless it breaks the law, it’s really their private business. I’m not into that stuff. That wasn’t what I was talking about.”

  Caitlin swiped away the tear, pulled herself together and looked at him with doubtful expression.

  “Lie down on the bed, Caitlin, on your stomach,” Chase said softly.

  She cast him a look of distrust backed away slightly.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” Chase promised. “I only want to rub some ointment on you. I saw it on the nightstand. Trust me. This is a misunderstanding that needs to be cleared up.” He held out his hand and she debated with herself and then took it. He led her over to the bed, and she lay across it on her stomach. He went into the bathroom, washed his hands, came out with a wet washcloth, climbed onto the bed and sat down beside her. He gave a tug to her sweatpants, and she let him pull them down. Another tug and her panties followed.

  Caitlin couldn’t believe she was letting him that close to her again. She should have been mortified when he pulled down her clothes to expose her bottom, but she wasn’t. From the moment she and Chase had met they had connected, and she’d never felt one moment of shyness around him. She gave a jerk when the cool washcloth was gently applied to her skin. A few moments later, his hands - those same hands that had done the damage - began to soothe the ointment on gently. She gave a sigh of relief.

  Chase smiled as he applied the ointment, glad that she’d trusted him this much.

  “When I told you I was a dominant man, I used the right word, but in today’s world it has taken on a different meaning. The truth is, I’d opened my big mouth and told you I’d go away with you and I knew that wasn’t possible. I’d shocked the hell out of myself, didn’t know where those words came from and I was backtracking like a scared rabbit. I probably used that word deliberately to scare you. I knew you had to go into WITSEC for your protection.” Chase paused. “What I should have said is that I’m what the physiologists would call strong alpha male. All the men in my family are that way, and we tend to be assertively dominant. We believe in domestic discipline. It was the way I was raised. We were brought up to respect and support women, but also to love them, care for them and to protect them. We have old-fashioned values. I’ll admit it. We expect our women to be truthful and obedient. We believe, as boyfriends and husbands we have a responsibility to our women. We make a commitment to do what is best for our women and our families. We believe that with that love also comes the authority and duty to administer guidance and sometimes discipline.”

  Caitlin turned her head to look over her shoulder at him. “Do you realize how stupidly archaic and eighteenth century that sounds?”

  Chase laughed. “Yes, I do. Probably every woman who has married into our family has brought that very issue up with their future husbands for the last fifty years. It hasn’t stopped any of them from saying their vows, or the Bennett men from setting their bottoms on fire when it was deserved. Before the 1960’s, it was quite common for a husband to spank his wife if she disobeyed him or he thought she deserved it.”

  Caitlin rose up on her elbows. “Are you saying that all the men in your family spank their girlfriends and wives? How many of them have been taken to the cleaners in divorce courts?”

  Chase gently pulled her panties up, followed by the sweats. He lay down beside her, punched up two pillows under his head and pulled her over onto his chest. “There’s only been one divorce in the Bennett family, the Texas branch at least, in over a hundred years. Even in that case, they remarried. My great uncle Chester’s wife left him because she couldn’t have children. He went after her, got her to tell him why she’d left, blistered her backside and took her home. They adopted five children and were married for a total of fifty-nine years.”

  “Bennett men must go looking for wimpy women with no opinions and no individuality or spirit,” Caitlin said hotly.

  “My brother Range married a lawyer who specializes in criminal prosecution. My brother Larson married a bounty hunter. My grandmother was an aeronautical welder during World War II when she married my grandfather. My mom owned part of a construction company. She can operate bulldozers and all kinds of big equipment. Those aren’t what I’d call wimpy women,” Chase said.

  “Yet they allow their husbands beat them?” Caitlin exclaimed.

  “Not beat,” Chase said patiently. “Correct and spank, there’s a difference.”

  “It’s only a matter of semantics!”

  “No, it’s the difference between loving someone and not loving someone,” Chase corrected patiently. “A man beats a woman to hurt and humiliate her. There is no love involved in that. A man spanks his woman because she has misbehaved and needs to be taught that certain behavior isn’t acceptable. If the discipline isn’t administered with love, there’s no point to it. We have a world full of couples that marry and don’t care or love each other enough to stick it out. I’ve known men who don’t care if their wives are driving too fast or getting too many tickets for driving recklessly. They don’t care if their wives are out too late drinking or are out in unsafe areas. They don’t care if they’re working too many hours, not eating properly or taking care of themselves. They don’t care, and because they don’t show their wives that they do care - those same wives lose all respect for them then demand a divorce. Bennett men may be strict and we may be old-fashioned, but we love and we take care of our women. We also apply discipline when discipline is needed.”

  “A grown woman shouldn’t be corrected or spanked! She’s an adult,” Caitlin protested.

  “They also shouldn’t be behaving badly,” Chase said. “Most important is that our wives return our love. Whether or not you’ve figured it out yet or not, Caitlin, I love you.”

  Caitlin closed her eyes. “I’ve loved you for five years, Chase, but it’s still impossible for us to be together.”

  Chase smiled at the admission. “Nothing is impossible when you work to make it happen.”

  “I won’t be a submissive wife!” Caitlin exclaimed.

  “That’s fine,” Chase said, grinning because she was talking in terms of permanence. “I will continue to be dominant. I will be firm and loving, and you don’t have to be submissive to get your bottom spanked! In fact, if you were perfectly submissive and obedient you wouldn’t need to have it spanked!”

  “Do all you macho men get together, drink beer and brag about how you tame your women?” Caitlin asked sarcastically.

  “Beer is optional, but yes, sometimes we ask for and get advice from close family members becaus
e that’s what families do,” Chase answered honestly. “Like, when my cousin Wayne was dealing with his fiancée Katrina. He had a very difficult time with her. Katrina is a professional dancer, and she was bulimic.”

  Caitlin eyes took on a look of concern.

  “It took a lot research on Wayne’s part to understand why she was doing what she was doing. Bulimia usually starts as a lark or an easy way to stay thin, but it escalates into seriously medical and mental issues. He put her into a counseling program and he had to become very firm to keep her from hurting herself further. Having a sore bottom wasn’t good for her dancing form, so it became sort of aversion therapy. He loved her too much to allow her to hurt or kill herself.”

  “Did she get better?” Caitlin asked interested.

  “Yes, and she has taken a hiatus from dancing. She took time off to get married to Wayne and got pregnant right after the wedding. She gave birth to twins three months ago.”

  “Well at least some good came out of his being primitive jerk,” Caitlin, mumbled as she drifted off to sleep, not realizing how safe she felt with Chase’s arms around her.

  * * * * *

  Blake Ford’s cell phone ringtone of Kanye West’s, Stronger went off at 1:30 am and he raced from the bed to the kitchen for his coat. “Yeah!”

  “Sorry, I didn’t get back with you,” Chase admitted. “It’s been a long day.”

  “You have her?” Blake asked.

  “I have her,” Chase admitted. “Right now she’s asleep, but she’s not cooperating and she has no intention of going back into the program. To tell you the truth, I don’t blame her. I need you to do some research on what happened to her bank account when she was processed into the program. Somehow 1.8 million dollars has been misplaced, and we need to find out how it got misplaced or stolen and who was responsible.”