Plum Girl (Romance)

  "Lonnie," he murmured, and settled his hand on her breast, rubbing gently. "I still can't believe how it was."

  His approving tone kicked up her confidence. "Satisfying?" she asked with saucy flirtatiousness she suddenly possessed.

  "Hot as hell," he said. "When can we do it again?" He kissed her mouth, then down her neck, and ran his tongue along her collarbone.

  She sighed, already hot for him again. "Don't you need some recovery time?"

  He muttered something into her breasts about already having five minutes, which was plenty where she was concerned, and then he rolled on top of her. He rested most of his weight on his elbows, and she felt his erection thick and pulsing against her body. Not to compare or anything, but Jake had always fallen asleep after his orgasm and remained out cold till morning. Until now, she assumed that was the way it worked for all men. Obviously, she'd been wasting her time with the wrong guy!

  Now, lying beneath Dominick—hard and ready, but still gentle and cuddly—Lonnie sighed happily. She looped her arms around his neck, and when their eyes locked, his expression turned more serious. "It's been a long time for you," he said quietly.

  She could deal with that point of information better now that she was lying there blissful and sated. "Yeah," she answered simply, and started combing her hands through his hair.

  "Christ, how come? You're so beautiful." He kissed her and let the kiss linger a moment or two. "And sexy," he added huskily.

  "I don't know."

  "You mentioned that you were dating someone that first day we had lunch, didn't you?" he asked.

  "Oh... yeah. It didn't work out. It wasn't anything serious, anyway." She stopped short of telling him that he had been the most pressing reason why it hadn't worked out with Terry. Impulsively, though, she told him about Jake. How she didn't know why, but she'd lost the desire for sex after they broke up. And how she'd thought Jake had been the love of her life.

  He asked, "What about Eric?" Who? "Remember?" No.

  Oh, wait! Eric Yagher, Lonnie realized. She noticed that Dominick was suddenly using his a-little-too-casual tone. Then she understood: Dominick wasn't really asking her if Eric was a love of her life, but if she'd ever been with him. In the biblical sense. Hmm...

  Obviously the answer was no, but Lonnie wasn't sure that he should be asking. There was something possessive about it, as if it mattered to him who'd been there before him, and Lonnie didn't know if she wanted to encourage that kind of thinking. Then again, there was something about Dominick that made her want to tell him every single thing about herself.

  "I liked Eric, but that's all I did. Oh, except for when I stopped liking him." She leaned her head forward and pressed a warm, suctioning kiss to his lips.

  "Good... He didn't deserve you," he muttered, before turning the kiss into something feral and blatantly sexual. Lonnie kissed him back while she reached her hand over to her nightstand, grappling to find the handle to the first drawer. She nastily yanked it open, felt around for a condom, and shoved it into Dominick's hand, as she rocked her body up and down suggestively.

  It didn't take much suggesting. Anxiously, he tore the condom wrapper, and they both slipped back into the sweet oblivion of heat and sweat and sex.

  Chapter 21

  First thing Monday morning Lonnie sought out Macey. "Macey, can I speak with you?" Lonnie hoped she'd say yes, because she already decided not to take no for an answer. Lonnie was determined to corner Macey while she had the chance.

  "Sure, Lonnie. What's up?" She pushed her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. "Actually, I'm glad you stopped by, because I wanted to talk to you about something anyway." Good start. "Please, sit down."

  She obeyed, but made sure to start speaking first, so they wouldn't get sidetracked. "Macey, I have to talk to you about something... well, ask you, really." Lonnie unfolded Twit's fax, which had been clutched in her hand since she'd taken it out of her bag that morning, and passed it to Macey.

  "I wondered—between you and me—if you could tell me something about this."

  Macey's face changed from random curiosity to pointed interest after she read the fax. "Where did you get this?" she asked softly.

  Lonnie replied, "It's a long story." And all she needed was to start relaying it and then get interrupted by a phone call or a client before she made any headway with her inquiry. "What I need is to know what it means."

  "What makes you think I would know?" Macey asked.

  "I just—I don't know," Lonnie stammered. "I just hoped maybe you would. I mean, since Ann Lee used to work here, and... well, Sandra Neemas did too, didn't she?" She crossed her fingers under her lap and waited for some useful information.

  Macey nodded, but said nothing. Obviously a more direct approach was needed.

  "Did Lunther sexually harass Ann Lee?" Lonnie asked.

  "What makes you say that?" Macey asked, furrowing her brows.

  "I just... had a feeling. I remember that Ann Lee left abruptly, and Lunther was... I could be wrong, but—"

  "You're not wrong," Macey said. She sat forward and clasped her hands together tightly. "Forgive me, Lonnie, but I am not clear on how this matter concerns you." It wasn't a challenge; it was an invitation to explain. Unfortunately, Lonnie couldn't quite do that because she'd promised Montgomery that she wouldn't tell anyone at Twit & Bell about his investigation. As far as they knew, Lunther's death was ruled a heart attack, case closed.

  "Well..." Think. Think. What possible reason would she have to be inquiring about Lunther's history of sexual harassment? Suddenly, she thought of a good angle to use with Macey—one that wouldn't be entirely untrue, and might coax some information out of her.

  "The truth is," Lonnie began, "I am just sickened by the thought that women today still have to deal with sexual harassment in the workplace." Well, that part is definitely true. "And I need to know because I need peace of mind." Also, based in reality. "I'm just so worried that those women... on the list... that they might not be okay. That they may have felt traumatized, or..." Felt like icing Lunther. "So I was hoping you could tell me what happened to them. You know, so I could... sleep at night." Utter bullshit.

  A pregnant pause followed Lonnie's monologue. Then Macey spoke.

  "I understand," she said. She lifted her blue eyes off of the piece of paper in her hands and settled them on Lonnie's face. Her expression reflected a kind of weary sadness that made Lonnie feel guilty about deceiving her. She wished she could tell her that she was really asking because she was an unofficial informant for the police, but then she'd have to tell her that Lunther's death was murder, and Oh, by the way, Montgomery has it in his head that you're involved somehow. Obviously that wasn't an option—Montgomery would kill her if she did that. Or, at least, make good on his regular threat to arrest her.

  Macey continued. "You want to know because you sympathize with them—with whatever might have happened to them. You want to know if you can help. If they need help. Is that it?"

  Lonnie felt like a complete slug, but nodded. What she'd said about sexual harassment sickening her—not to mention making her mad as hell—was true. But at the moment, that was the least of her concerns. Right now she had to find out the connection between the women on the list and Lunther. More specifically, she needed to know if any of them had enough motive to kill him.

  "Did all these women work at Twit & Bell?" she asked Macey.

  "Yes. Although Mabel Wills and Courtney Adams predate my employment here."

  "What happened to them?"

  "Like you said, sexual harassment interfered with their productivity—as it's designed to do."

  "Well... were they fired because they wouldn't..." Her voice trailed off, waiting for Macey to fill in the blanks.

  "No, they quit. Look, Lonnie, I don't know how well you observed Lunther around the office, but I can tell you right now: he was a self-obsessed bastard. Plain and simple. And he was never going to change. He wasn't capable of change. He was too st
upid to change. These women moved on to other jobs that didn't force them to confront the same kind of abuse."

  "How do you know they moved on?"

  "You're not the only one who has a level of emotional commitment that few people understand." Lonnie guiltily contemplated hara-kiri with the nearest letter opener. "I checked up on Lunther's history as soon as I found out the kind of man he was. That's why he despised me. Well, among other reasons."

  "What other reasons?" Lonnie pushed.

  Macey looked at her squarely, appraisingly, and answered her even though she didn't have to. "I like you, Lonnie. You're sensitive to much of the unfairness that still exists. Obviously that's not much of a blessing. It's frustrating as hell." She stood up and walked over to look out the large plate-glass window behind her desk.

  "To answer your question, Lunther hated me for knowing what he was and for using it against him." She turned around to meet Lonnie's eyes, which were unblinking and expectant. She sighed and started to explain. "I was planning to leave Twit & Bell—which thrilled Lunther, believe me. The last thing he needed was me around to remind him of his alter ego." Alter ego? "What didn't thrill him, however, was the threat of what I might do before I left."

  "Lonnie, I'm no lightweight where retribution is concerned. I am not a person who blindly follows the learned 'ethics' that have been determined by a patriarchal society. If it were up to me, Extremities and Death and the Maiden would've had very different endings. I believe revenge is a dish best served whenever." She propped herself up on her windowsill, appearing more relaxed, as if just discussing this was alleviating some burden.

  "After I found out about Lunther's proclivities, I told him that I planned to leave the firm and that I'd announce my resignation early this spring. What drove him crazy was that he was sure I was up to something—some scheme to 'screw him over.' How typical. After adversely affecting another woman's life, his only concern was the slight chance that he might be inconvenienced."

  "Another woman... You mean, Ann Lee?"

  Macey nodded. "I'd found out about his history of harassment a couple months ago, and that's when I'd confronted him. He assured me that he'd just been suffering personal problems, but that he'd gotten help. He assured me he had stopped. But then, when Ann left the firm so abruptly, I knew... he was still at it." Her face twisted into a taut expression of detestation.

  "But how did you find out at all?" Lonnie asked.

  "Sandy told me."

  "Sandy?"

  "She was my assistant. She left a year ago." Sandra Neemas! The one who'd pressed charges a year ago... right after it happened to her. "We stayed friends after she quit, but she told me the truth about why she'd left only a few months ago. She told me she'd pressed charges against Lunther, but she'd dropped them when she got her plum job in London. The point is: she moved on with her life, but that doesn't change what Lunther did."

  "Anyway, after Ann Lee left, I confronted Lunther again and told him that he'd be sorry. You should've seen him squirm." She laughed humorlessly at the image and went on. "Of course, he assumed I would do something soap opera-esque, like blackmail him. Or tell all of Boston about his obsession." Obsession? "He never figured out that I'd undermine his power by simply inverting it."

  Huh?

  "I was taking his clients." She moved back to the desk and sat down again. "Remember that research project I gave you?" The one that got me mugged? Vaguely. "Those 'hypothetical' cases were Lunther's. Ann told me where he kept his legal notes, and how they were filed. You know the citations I needed you to look up for me?" Lonnie nodded. "Well, we all knew who Lunther's clients were, of course, and the overall scope of his cases. But what I needed to know were the exact kinds of legal strategies and loopholes he'd applied to them. So I copied those citations straight from his notes."

  Lonnie still wasn't sure what Macey had hoped to gain from that, but she answered that question next. "You see, I was looking for the best angle I could find to convince his clients that their interests would be better served with me. I knew Lunther's legal maneuverings were hardly superior. It just took a little digging to uncover his ineptitudes."

  So, Lunther hadn't known what was in the notebook specifically, but he'd known that Macey was up to something, and he'd been absolutely desperate to find out what it was. That was probably why he'd come up to Lonnie at the holiday party; he'd wanted to pump her for information.

  "Anyway, it's all moot now. He's gone and I'm not about to mourn the loss to humanity."

  Lonnie let a few moments pass, while she tried to digest all the information. That explained a lot, but she was still confused about the fax. Why had Twit hired a private investigator? What did the women on the list have to do with him?

  "Macey, do you have an idea what this fax means? Why would Twit get this?"

  "Oh, of course I have an idea! It's just a guess, but I'm sure a plausible one. Beauregard loathed Lunther. He was desperate to force him out of the company. The rumor was, he'd offered to buy him out repeatedly, but Lunther always refused. I'm sure Beauregard figured that if he did some good digging, he'd find some dirt—dirt that would finally give him leverage."

  "And those women may not have pressed charges, but—as I learned from my own investigating—they're more than willing to discuss Lunther if asked." She rested her elbows on her desk in an uncharacteristically casual gesture. "Lonnie, Lunther Bell's days as a consequence-free harasser were coming to an end. How ironic that he died first."

  "I see... So I guess his thing was, what, quid pro quo?" Lonnie asked. "You know, either put out or—"

  "Oh, no! No, no, no. Oh, I'm sorry, I should've explained better." She leaned forward and said, "Lunther didn't want those women to sleep with him."

  "What do you mean? W-what did he want?"

  "He wanted them to baby-sit him. Literally." What kind of riddle was this?

  "Macey, I'm sorry, I'm really not following you."

  She nodded her head. "Of course you're not. I'm sorry. Lonnie?"—she paused—"have you ever heard of an 'adult baby7?"

  Lonnie racked her brain, and all she could come up with was the memory of a Jerry Springer episode about grown men whose hobbies included wearing diapers and pretending to be newborns. But that couldn't possibly be what Macey was referring to, could it?

  "Um... is that when grown men... dress up like babies?"

  "For sexual excitement, yes. It's a type of role-playing fetish, which presumably rests on the tenets of domination and submission. Some would argue, however, that a man's desire to revert to infantilism has more to do with his inability to cope with the standards of masculinity."

  "And Lunther was one of those—I mean, he pretended—?"

  "Yes. He was an adult baby. And he was on the lookout for a woman to play the game with him. To act out the role of his 'caretaker.' He preyed on the women here who seemed the weakest because... Well, I have my own theories." She shook her head in more of the same disgust. Lonnie just waited for her to elaborate, so she did.

  "I think Lunther preyed on women he worked with because it killed the proverbial two birds with one stone. To be crass: he got off on more than the role-playing. He literally got off on disabling a woman's power. If he could bully an assistant into doing what he wanted—for fear that otherwise she might lose her job—then he'd feel satisfied in his own ability to subordinate her. Economic subordination, in that case."

  Lonnie sat back in the armchair, feeling drained and exhausted, even though she'd barely said anything throughout the conversation. She just couldn't believe all this corruption and debauchery had been going on under her nose the whole time she'd worked at Twit & Bell! Lunther Bell, an adult baby? It was all too much to imagine.

  Macey's phone rang.

  "Macey Green..." She talked to whoever was on the line for less than two minutes, but it was still enough time for Lonnie to try to come to terms with what she'd just learned. She knew Macey never particularly liked Lunther, but she'd never realized the in
tensity of her hatred. Suddenly, she had a thought. Was there any chance that...

  Could Macey possibly have hated Lunther enough to put a stop to his harassment herself?

  No, that seemed unfathomable.

  "That was a friend of mine," Macey explained, setting the receiver back in its cradle. "Actually, she's the reason I wanted to speak with you today."

  "What do you mean?"

  "My friend Emma is the director of social research at Maine Bay College. I told her about you, and she requested that you send your resume to her immediately."

  Lonnie's mouth dropped. She couldn't believe Macey had done that for her. "Macey, I... I don't know what to say. That was so kind of you...." She almost felt choked up, because it was just so unexpected, and she wasn't the type of person who inherently felt owed favors like that.

  "Nonsense," Macey said gently. "You would be more than an asset there; it's just as much of a service to Emma as it is to you. And I can tell you right now, Emma is very interested."

  Macey was all but promising her a job at Maine Bay College, and Lonnie knew it. Her stomach flip-flopped at the idea. It was the best lead she'd had yet, considering none of the schools she'd applied to had called her at all. She couldn't believe Macey had gone to that trouble for her....

  But then... now that she thought about it...

  Why had Macey done it? Just to help her out? Or did she have another motive—like getting Lonnie out of the way?

  Oh, God, I'm ridiculous.

  All her snooping was taking its toll; it was making her more suspicious every day. She had to get herself in check. Macey was her friend. Of course she only wanted to help her.

  "What do you think?" Macey asked.

  "I... Thank you so, so much. I... I'm just so honored that you helped me like that."

  Just then the phone rang, and this time Macey stayed on the line. Lonnie took the hint and waved good-bye, quietly making her way to the door. This day was turning out to be one disorienting surprise after another. Lonnie didn't even realize that she was holding her breath until she got back to her desk... and it all came gushing out.