Cassolette

  Jaye writhed and moaned and cried. Brad had bound her eyes with a kerchief at her request. She wanted to black out everything and intensify the experience. For this was truly a oner that would never come again.

  Scott's thick cock drove deep inside her cunt. Brad fucked her slowly in the ass, and Chris fucked her mouth. She loved the taste and touch and smell of them. Their hands strayed all over her, caressing, stroking, loving…and they bathed her in kisses.

  She was building, building to a tremendous crusher of an orgasm that when it came was almost frightening in its intensity. "Oh, my god," she cried. "Oh, my god…"

  What made it even more exciting was the fact that they had all come almost simultaneously. Jaye rubbed their secretions into her skin and swallowed Chris' semen.

  She was fevered and trembling. "Oh, god, guys, please do me again," she cried. It was a night that none of them would ever forget, and it lasted until dawn.

  * * * They had breakfast together in the coffee shop downstairs. "So today is the big day," Brad said to her, his gray eyes warm on her skin.

  "The dig will finally begin." The sunlight streamed onto the table. What would Judge Absalom Percy think, she wondered with a giggle, if he had seen her being fucked all night, by three men? Her bottom tingled in anticipation of the harsh flogging he would order. She was sure it would make the beating Sadie Biggs had received pale by comparison.

  Then on a more serious note, she contemplated how Guy would react? She imagined his dark eyes hurt and stormy. It was a sobering thought.

  Jaye felt a little strange at first, eating cereal and toast with this trio of lovers she had done such unspeakable things with. But Scott, Brad and Chris were all so relaxed and normal, that she quickly got over it.

  Brad wished her good luck, but then seized the opportunity while Scott and Chris were chatting to tell her in a quiet aside that it wasn't too late to call it off. "It's one helluva gamble, Jaye."

  If only he knew about John Dorian's offer, she thought to herself. How much more strident would his warning be then? But she had deliberately kept this from him and Chris as well, only too well aware of what their reactions would be.

  But perhaps they're right? The maddening little voice piped up as if on cue. Maybe you should shelve the whole crazy scheme about cofferdams and treasure hunts, and walk away with Dorian's millions instead.

  She excused herself and went in search of the ladies room, hating Brad for shaking her resolve this close to zero hour.

  Jaye had never been in this part of the Inn before. But she had obviously taken a wrong turn and found herself in a main dining area, empty save for a lone waitress clearing off a table.

  The room was dominated by a granite fireplace, above which hung the portrait of a man. There was at once something so familiar, and yet forbidding, about him that Jaye stopped dead in her tracks.

  She could feel the hairs bristle on the back of her neck and the chill of the unknown turn her limbs to ice. And she was back on Bell Island with the thunder crashing and a darkly cloaked figure with a tricorn hat looming up out of the lightning's glare.

  Her mouth felt parched and her heart beat out a frenzy in her throat. "Who is he?" she asked the waitress, pointing towards the picture. She was hypnotized by the dark piercing eyes that seemed to follow her every movement and stab into her very soul.

  But before the girl had a chance to reply, Jaye propelled her frozen limbs close enough to see the nameplate for herself, assiduously avoiding eye contact by keeping her gaze firmly fixed beneath them. It was Nathaniel York. The discoverer of the Bell Island treasure pit.

  Eight

  "He's an intense looking fellow, isn't he?" Scott remarked, narrowing his eyes as he examined the portrait of Nathaniel York. "And you're sure that it was him?" Then, as if realizing how crazy this sounded added,"You're certain that it was someone resembling him that you saw?"

  "Of course I'm sure," Jaye responded impatiently. "I'm not in the habit of imagining things."

  She struggled to assume a veneer of normalcy until Chris and Brad had left, although she felt badly shaken up, stunned, and weak. For in that moment when she had been confronted by the portrait of York, all her predetermined notions of the nature of life and death had been dealt an earth moving challenge.

  York had been captured for posterity, standing on the north shore of Bell Island, the lighthouse at Renfrew Point rising up in the background over his left shoulder. He was wearing a flowing black cloak and tricorn hat.

  "I think someone is trying to throw a scare into you," Scott said. "They assumed that you had seen this portrait and set out to spook you." "The sinister John Dorian, perhaps, in an attempt to drive me off the island?" "Possibly…or someone like him. Unless you believe in ghosts, of course?" "No, I don't think that I do…at least, I didn't used to."

  * * * Bell Island was a veritable hive of activity, as preparations to install a portable cofferdam around Pendle Bay got underway. A convoy of trucks arrived, and quickly unloaded their cargo.

  Jaye watched the proceedings from a distance, glad of the presence of uniformed security guards that were keeping the curiosity seekers, whose numbers were considerable, from entering the causeway.

  Angus was in his element, seeming to be everywhere at once, giving directions, offering advice, and generally just beaming with goodwill.

  At noon, Jaye invited him to join her for lunch. "Nothing fancy, just a sandwich on the sundeck. And I think we can find something good for you, too, boy," she told Ben, who had seemed as delighted as his master with all the unusual activity.

  "I've waited a long time for this," Angus enthused, tucking into a cheese roll with relish, as he slurped his soup. "And this is going to write the final chapter of the Bell Island mystery, you mark my words."

  "I hope you're right," Jaye replied, shielding her eyes from the sun to watch the flight of an oriole.

  It was then they became aware of a commotion over by the causeway. "It'll be that great gaggle of the nosy," Angus predicted in disgust. "Just as well we had the foresight to lay on good security."

  But Angus was wrong. It was a bailiff armed with a court order. All current operations on Bell Island must cease, until an Environmental Impact Study was completed.

  "I don't believe this," Jaye exclaimed, watching in helpless bewilderment as the work crews packed up and left. "And I have a good idea who's behind it."

  "You and me both, lassie," Angus fumed, his heavily jowled face the shade of puce. "It'll be that bastard John Dorian right enough. He's determined that the treasure won't be found until he owns the island."

  Which made Jaye all the more determined to win this game of deadly cat and mouse with her faceless enemy.

  "But this is still private property," she had insisted in bewilderment when the bailiff presented her with the document. She realized that if the Heritage designation went through this would no longer be the case.

  "It's a Temporary Injunction," Jaye told Scott when they met for dinner at the Smugglers' Inn. "Issued by the Court on the request of an environmental group calling themselves the Green Alliance."

  "It's really the most rotten piece of luck," he sympathized, "and it came at the worst possible time, too, just when things were getting underway at last. Although, it might be for the best in the long run."

  "I'm beginning to think that all these old wives' tales about a curse on Bell Island are not so far wrong," Jaye mused bitterly, swishing the Scotch around in her glass. "It certainly has had more than its fair share of misfortune. I think the bloody place is jinxed."

  A light evening fog had stole in from the marshes, bringing with it the wail of boat horns. "Run it past Brad just to make sure it's all legal," Scott advised. "You never know he might be able to spot a loophole."

  Jaye nodded and toyed anxiously with her signet ring. "I'm taking the documents over to Vancouver in the morning."

  "I'll call you tomorrow evening, you should know the score by then. Which hotel will you be st
aying in?

  For a moment Jaye just stared at him, her mind drawing a complete blank. She was expecting to spend the night with Brad, but didn't feel comfortable admitting this to Scott.

  "I'm not sure," she blurted out at last, taking a long swig at her drink to hide her confusion. "Besides, I'll be back here the following day."

  Scott forked a prawn and dipped it in Teriyaki sauce, his eyes contemplative beneath closely-knit brows. "Sure, whatever you say." And she kicked herself mentally for handling the situation so poorly. * * * "Hire an environmental consultant," Brad advised. He had been poring over the papers since dinner, while the sinking sun blazed crimson fire around his elegant patio. It was getting chilly on the eighteenth floor and Jaye draped a sweater around her shoulders. She admired the vistas of city and harbor glittering out around them like baubles at the feet of a giant.

  "They'll do a quick assessment of the island and the likely impact from the present activities. And by what you've told me, they don't appear to be damaging. Then we can go to court and get the ban lifted."

  "But how long will this take?" Jaye asked. "There are only a few months of the year that this work can be done. I don't want to have to wait again until next spring."

  "It shouldn't take that long. I'll put you in touch with a good group who'll get the job done quickly, and with the result you want." Then he paused briefly and squinted at her over the top of his spectacles. "It'll cost you a pretty penny, though."

  "I love you, Brad," she suddenly enthused and threw herself without warning into his arms, kissing his neck, his face, and hair.

  "Wow," he exclaimed with a delighted expression, and quipped, "I wish you had legal problems more often." * * * Jaye leaned back in the porch chair, her eyes narrowing with concentration as she worked on a crossword puzzle. Angus had just left, grumbling and threatening all sorts of dire actions against the Green Alliance. And she could still smell the wholesome earthiness of Ben's fur on her fingers. "We should bloody well sue them for lost time and legal costs," Angus insisted. "They're a bunch of wicked meddlers who've never done an honest day's work in their lives." "So you no longer believe that the elusive John Dorian is behind this?" "Now I didn't say that, lassie. I think he could be pulling the strings in the background." * * * "Git outta here and don't come back," Angus shouted, "or I'll break your bloody placards over your heads!" Ben, hard on his heels, growled a warning, and a flock of screeching gulls zoomed overhead.

  It was a drizzly May morning with a shy sun dodging behind banks of gray clouds. The Green Alliance picketers had arrived at first light, angry with the results of the Environmental Impact Study, which they claimed was rigged.

  "Of course, it was," Jaye admitted to Scott, as they chatted over the telephone, the chanting of the picketers clearly audible in the background. "But I really don't see how the installation of a cofferdam and pumping all the standing water out of the treasure pit could result in any damage to the environment."

  Scott agreed. "It's laughable really when one considers all the real damage that's been done to Bell Island over the years. My God, the entire north end is pockmarked with old diggings."

  The media were also out in force, and when Jaye brought the security company back to prevent entry via the causeway, the more resourceful amongst them hired a boat and rowed themselves ashore at the eastern cove.

  "This is private property and you're trespassing," she warned, faced with a battalion of microphones and flash bulbs exploding in her face.

  "Bugger off and don't come back," Angus yelled. "We don't talk to the media."

  "It would be almost comical if it weren't so damned annoying," Jaye later confessed to Scott, recalling how she had to run the gauntlet just to go out to the grocery store.

  The local newspapers were full of the story. Angry at the lack of cooperation, their accounts ranged from out and out lies to quasi-factual. They pilloried Jaye as a greedy capitalist who didn't give a jot for the environment, and published a most unflattering photograph of her on the front page. "Let's just hope that all this hoopla won't influence the outcome of the case,"

  she said to Brad, who had telephoned when he saw all the unfavorable coverage. "Well it's certainly not supposed to," he assured her. "Judges are bound by

  law to review the facts and nothing else." Chris, echoed Brad's statement. "Don't worry, Jaye, you'll get that injunction

  overturned, it should never have been granted in the first place." "Brad sees it as spite and someone working behind the scenes," she said.

  "Most probably this John Dorian character." "The Midas Holdings man?" Chris nodded. "Yes, that seems likely. You'd probably find a huge donation gracing the Green Alliance's bank account, if you cared to check."

  They were having lunch in the Blue Riband Coffee Shop, sitting outside on the patio to catch the warm breath of a friendly sun.

  "I just want this to be over with so I can get on with the work," she said impatiently. "The million dollar question still being, what will we find once the water has been stopped by the cofferdam at Pendle Bay, and pumped out of the pit?"

  "And it's costing you much more than that to find out," Chris replied thoughtfully. "I just hope for your sake that it's worthwhile, Jaye."

  "I'm doing this for Aunt Adelaide, Chris, and for the historical value of such a find. Although admittedly a large sum of money would certainly not be unwelcome."

  "And also," Chris interjected, stirring his coffee more vigorously than was necessary, "after Bell Island is officially designated a Heritage Site, all such explorations will be prohibited."

  "That's right, this is the last chance to try to solve a two hundred-year-old mystery. And we'll accomplish that by getting to the bottom of the treasure pit at last."

  She thought how incredibly handsome he looked with his soulful eyes and cropped black hair. And the fact that he seemed more confident now than when they first met, although he still stammered slightly when agitated, she attributed, at least in part, to her own ministrations.

  As if catching wind of her thoughts on the playful breeze that toyed with the patio trees, he leaned towards her with a suddenly lecherous expression. "You know you've given me a taste for all sorts of earthly pleasures that I miss when we're apart."

  The remark stirred the passion in her veins, and she realized how very much she wanted him. There was just something about his shy and gentle manner that she found irresistible.

  "I'd invite you over to the island, but I'm sure you wouldn't want to fight your way through a haggle of reporters and picketing environmentalists," she said with a seductive grin.

  "Spend the night at my place," he invited. "The problem is, I don't think I can hold out that long."

  "You're incorrigible," she laughed. "How have you managed for months without me?" "It wasn't easy, but at least I didn't have you sitting a couple of feet away,

  with your foot teasing at my trouser leg." "Point taken," she agreed with mock solemnity, as they went inside the

  restaurant to pay the bill. "So where can we go to fix your problem?" "I have to be back in my office for a three o'clock appointment," Chris explained, checking the time on his wristwatch with the wall clock. "So that leaves us slightly less than an hour."

  Pendle Cove was swarming with seagulls, their raucous cries reverberating around the pebbly beach and lonely caves. Chris parked his car behind a rocky outcropping and wasted no time in pushing back the front seat and unzipping his trousers.

  "Wow," Jaye exclaimed when she saw the steely rigidity of his cock, and clasped it between her hands prior to bathing it with her tongue and lips.

  "It's all your doing," he told her, guiding her head where he wanted it the most. She had been teasing the insides of his thighs ever since they left the restaurant, causing more than one tractor-trailer driver to almost swerve off the road.

  His excitement was contagious and gave new wings to Jaye's own desire. She increased the tempo of her mouth music, stopping every so often to take his thumb
in her mouth and suck on it lasciviously before alternating back again to his pulsing cock.

  "Oh God, I won't last long like this," he gasped. And when he reached a very noisy and shuddering climax, she transferred his sperm from her mouth to his.

  "It's called snowballing," she explained afterwards, when they were once again heading down the Old Coast Highway in the direction of the City.

  "God, I loved it, it's so bloody erotic," Chris said. "You're a she-devil, you really are." * * * News about the woes of Bell Island had gone national. "Good grief, what's going on out there?" Joanna asked. The segment featuring noisy picketers and Angus berating them with a face like brimstone had flashed onto the television screen just as she and Kenny were sitting down to dinner. "It looks as if all hell has broken out. Are you alright?"

  "Well, I'm pretty depressed about the whole situation," Jaye admitted. "To have everything grind to a halt like that just when things were moving at last, is damned hard to deal with."

  It was a rainy evening, and from where she was sitting she could see the old lighthouse at Renfrew Point wavering through the watery windows. She cradled the phone on her shoulder and pulled her sweater more closely around her. It felt so damp and chilly that she had been contemplating lighting a fire.

  "It's sweltering here," Joanna told her with a laugh. "We could use some of your west coast weather to cool things down."

  The blues, which had been hounding Jaye ever since the bailiff had appeared with the court order, closed in on her in a moment of suffocating melancholia. "Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing here," she confessed. "This island has an evil history, and has thwarted everyone who has come here to search for the treasure."

  "Come back to Toronto," Joanna invited. "The Computer Clinic needs you. We're moving into spiffy new premises next month, and you can pick out the décor for your private office."

  Although the offer sounded tempting, a welcome escape from the mists and moods of Bell Island, Jaye reluctantly declined. "Perhaps when this is all over," she promised. For she knew that she would harbor regrets forever, if she allowed this last chance at unearthing Bell Island's secret to pass her by. * * * "Any more visitations from spooks by your gate?" Scott asked, stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce that filled the kitchen with a delicious spicy aroma. A couple of months had passed since the figure, who Jaye believed to be the ghost of Nathaniel York, had risen out of the fog and scared her out of her wits.