“That’s right, they’re tearing down the building you lived in. The same one Chris was in for a while.”
“It wasn’t much, but it provided the shelter I needed.”
“So, Norma. Instead of going into a nursing home, why not stick around and see how our girls turn out?” George asked.
“I will if you will, George,” I answered. “I just hope Chris and Melinda can find their way back to each other.”
“We will, Norma.”
I turned to see who said that, and clapped my hands together, squealing like a school girl. Chris was standing in the doorway.
Chapter Fourteen
It’s Not about the Car — Meg, Melinda and Norma
“All I’m saying is if you want to get answers, you can’t go around throwing punches at people. It tends to piss them off,” I said, shaking my head.
Blackie opened the door to her rental home and I followed her in to the vestibule. We had spent the last thirty minutes arguing, which is nothing new, but it quickly becomes tedious when you’re stuck in a car with her.
“I told you, Meg, he had it coming. Did you see what he did to my car?” Blackie asked.
Sighing, I replied, “Yes, I saw it. So he banged it up a little. It’s not your car anymore, and it hasn’t been for years now.”
“It’s a Lamborghini, damn it,” Blackie exclaimed. “You don’t just bang up a Lamborghini and let it sit there for all to see. You have to baby that car. Care for it like it was your lover. Cry over it when it’s hurt.”
“Or, if you’re Blackie Blackstone, you just go buy another one,” I said, growing tired of the never ending conversation about her damn car.
“Well, true. But that’s beside the point,” she argued, as she showed me into the living room. “And on top of that, we didn’t learn a damn thing that would be useful to my case.”
“Maybe you didn’t, but I did,” I stated.
“You did? Why didn’t you say something?” she asked.
“Because you wouldn’t shut the hell up about that damn car,” I declared.
It was getting late and I was past tired. I had made a rookie mistake, and now I was paying the price for it. I should have told her what I had learned, instead of letting her rant on about that car all the way back to her house. It was bad enough that I had to pull her off Derrick, and then protect her by telling him that I didn’t see her hit him. Still he deserved it for making that crack about me being Blackie’s new old lady. I would have slugged him myself, if she hadn’t beat me to it.
Charlotte came in and asked if we would like a refreshment, and I asked for black coffee. I needed a jolt of caffeine to stave off the fatigue for just a bit longer.
“Okay, listen up.” I sat down in a chair, and Blackie sat on the couch next to me. “Remember when Derrick said that he didn’t know who the man was that Tori was seeing back in college?”
“Yeah, so?” she asked impatiently.
“So, who was he going to give the pictures to?”
“He didn’t give them to anyone, and then my father had him destroy them,” she stated.
“Yes, but he said that Tori wasn’t the one who asked him to take the pictures. It was a man on the phone who made the deal with him, and he didn’t give his name. Derrick never met the man. So, who was it?”
“Oh…” she said quietly, and I could see her mind was spinning with questions. Okay, fire away. “So you think it was the mysterious boyfriend. But if so, why didn’t Derrick give him the photographs as soon as he took them? What was the mystery man going to do with them? I mean my father would have paid a great deal to keep them from surfacing. In fact he did, to Derrick.”
“Blackie, did you say that Tori did drugs?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah. Big time. It was the main reason she gambled. One habit fed off the other. She’d do anything for a fix sometimes. But she knew I wouldn’t supply her with them, so that can’t be why she’d want to blackmail me… can it?”
“I don’t think it was her idea, either time. I think someone enticed her with drugs, so they could bribe you for money.”
“The aforementioned mysterious boyfriend,” Blackie said.
“Yes, we find him, we find out why he set you up,” I replied.
“So… now do you believe me?” Blackie asked.
“Again, we don’t have anything concrete—”
“Damn it, Meg!”
“Am I interrupting?” Norma asked, as she followed Charlotte into the room.
Charlotte set down the drinks and left. Norma sat down in the recliner and waited for Blackie to reply.
“No, not at all, Norma. Meg was just being a stubborn jerk, as usual,” Blackie said.
“Melinda, your manners,” Norma chastised.
“I’m just saying it like it is,” Blackie sneered. “It’s like pulling teeth to get a damn compliment out of her, let alone get her to fucking give me a fucking break!” Melinda pulled out her cellphone and checked it for the millionth time, and then threw it at the wall. It bounced and slid across the floor, coming to a stop at the rug. Blackie left it there.
I guess she was waiting on an email or something, and it was really starting to stress her out. More so than her usual overly hyper self. I imagine she was upset because she hadn’t heard from Chris in a while.
“Melinda, dear. I think it’s past your bedtime,” Norma said.
“Nah, I’m too damn wired to sleep right now,” Melinda replied. “Norma, have you heard from Chris? She’s not answering my emails or texts or phone calls. I don’t know what to do. I need to know she’s all right. What should I do, Norma?”
“Melinda, you’re being insufferable,” Norma said firmly. “I think you should go up to your room and get some rest.”
“Huh? I just asked for your advice, how is that being insufferable?” Melinda asked.
There was a slight twinkle in Norma’s eyes that Melinda wasn’t seeing. It could only mean one thing.
“Yeah, Blackie, get your ass to bed,” I said, with a wink to Norma. “We’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow.”
“What is wrong with you two? Suddenly everyone wants me in bed, but the one person I want…”
Blackie’s face flushed red, as her eyes asked an unspoken question. Norma smiled at her, and nodded. Blackie bolted from the chair, nearly knocking over Charlotte as she entered the room. I could hear Blackie running up the stairs, calling for Chris.
May I Come In? — Melinda and Chris
Bounding up the stairs, I didn’t have time to think what I would do when I saw her. I only knew that I desperately needed to see her. To touch her and hold her close. But when I ran through the door, and saw her standing there, looking so beautiful in just a plain T-shirt and jeans, I stopped, frozen in place.
“Uh, hi,” I said.
“Hi yourself,” Chris responded.
Timidly, I asked, “May I come in?”
“Of course,” she answered.
I walked in and shut the door behind me. Chris was standing by the bed, a negligée in her hands. Please, God, let that be for me.
“Um…” Fear choked back my words. My first instinct was to run to her, but she made no indication that she wanted me to. “Uh, thank you for coming back,” I said. Lame.
“You’re welcome,” she said, without inflection.
This is so awkward. “Uh, why did you come back?”
She took a step toward me, closing the distance between our hearts, and igniting a fire in my belly.
“I got your email. I came back because I love you, and I believe you when you say you were set up. I’m back because I couldn’t stand being away from you any longer.”
My heart soared. I took a step toward her, but she took a step back and put her hand up. My heart sank. What’s wrong?
“But I have to tell you,” she continued, “that I’m having a little trouble looking at you right now and not seeing her tits in your face.”
“Oh,” I whispered. “What can I do to
erase that vision?”
“I just need a little time to not see that anymore,” she replied.
But I need you now! Frantically searching for a way to help her, an idea popped into my head. “Okay, I understand,” I said, unbuttoning my shirt and letting it fall to the floor behind me. If this doesn’t work I’m going to be so humiliated. “You need a new vision to erase that one,” I said as I unzipped my jeans and let them slide down my legs. I stepped out of them, never taking my eyes off Chris. Her eyes grew large as I stood there, naked in front of her.
“Chris, you saw her breasts, but you didn’t see mine. My breasts belong to you alone and only you will see them,” I explained as I pinched my tit into a hard tip. “Only you will touch them.” I cupped one of my breasts, wrapped my fingers around it and squeezed. “Only you will make love to them.”
She wet her lips as I massaged both breasts at once, reflectively arching my back at the sensations. She was staring closely now, and watching her, watching me, I could feel the heat simmering between my thighs. I slowly ran one hand, fingers spread wide, down my abdomen, across my stomach, and over my thighs. “I vowed my love to you, and only you, Chris. My body belongs only to you.” Her eyes followed my hand like a cat follows a mouse, and I could tell she was almost ready to pounce. Thrusting my finger through the wet heat, I gasped at the hardness of my clit.
Chris inhaled sharply and looked up at me. “May I come in?” she asked with a raspy voice.
Tears sprang up in my eyes, as I held out my arms and she ran into them. We clung to each other like a drowning victim to a life buoy. So close that I could feel her heart beating against mine, urging me to hold her closer. And then we began to feel each other’s need, each other’s heat. She dug her nails into my bare back and I tore at her clothing, urgently trying to caress her warm skin. Kissing urgently in between the tugging and ripping, I finally had her where I wanted her, naked and hungry.
“Oh, God, Chris. I’ve missed you so much!” I exclaimed, wrapping my hand around her breast and taking it between my lips. Ecstasy! It had only been a couple of days, but my need for her felt more like a hundred years. Thinking of how close I had come to losing her, I desperately needed to erase my fears and her vision of me.
“Please, Melinda, I need you,” she gasped.
“I’m yours for the taking,” I panted.
She took my hand and led me to the bed. Then she roughly pushed me down on it. She looked almost feral standing over me, like she was going to devour me. Laying horizontal on the bed, my legs hung off the side. Chris walked between them, spreading them further apart. My breath caught in my throat as she knelt down in front of me.
“You are right, Melinda,” she said through thickening lips. “You are mine. Every inch of you is mine, and I’ll be damn if I’ll let someone take you away from me again.”
“Oh, God,” I gasped.
Never before had I seen Chris so salacious. I liked it. If she needed to dominate me, to be in control, to punish me, as it were, then I needed to help her do that. I was already close to climaxing just at the sight of her so virile and aggressive. I wanted to hold back as long as possible, so she could purge that vision of Tori from her mind once and for all. Then she bared her teeth, growled at me and bit my inner thigh. I soared into the orgasmic atmosphere, leaving my bones shattered across the bed. Okay, I’ll hold back on the next one.
Investigating Infidelity, Update — Meg Bumgartner
Written report on Melinda, aka Blackie Blackstone (Livingston)
Client is Blackie Blackstone and Chrissie Livingston
Meg Bumgartner, Private Investigator
Case #226
I opened my laptop and pulled up the program my wife, Frankie, designed. It’s similar to what detectives use in the squad room. A digital board where I could upload pictures, connect facts and piece the puzzle together. It helps me to visualize the facts, cross check where they intersect, and research the unanswered questions. I had already put Blackie and Chris’ pictures next to each other, but I didn’t have Tori’s, so I put an image holder in her place. Then I connected those pictures using lines pointing to the college and the pizza parlor and connecting them back to Tori. I had surreptitiously taken a cellphone picture of Derrick when I was with him, and sent it to my laptop. I pulled him up and placed him next to the college. Then I put an image holder of the female photographer by the pizza joint. Their lines crossed and connected to Tori. Tori was the key to everything.
I now believe that the case of Blackie’s infidelity is no longer an issue. She wasn’t unfaithful, she was set up, and for reasons that I have not yet determined. The fact that this is the second attempt to blackmail Blackie based on lewd acts in a public place cannot be a coincidence. And the fact that the second attempt happened only days after she arrived back in San Francisco was also suspicious. This second one feels like it’s more than just a blackmail scheme to get money, but that’s just a hunch on my part. And then there’s the mysterious boyfriend, who Tori’s friends said suddenly came back into her life. The whole thing seems amateurish and rushed, and there was no demand for money this time, although that may still be a possibility. I theorized that it was personal. This time it was to break Blackie and Chris up, but why?
My next step would be to find Tori and get her to talk. If I was lucky, I’d find her with her boyfriend and discover the mystery. Now that Chris and Blackie were back together, which I was actually pleased about, Blackie would be less stressed and anxious, and able to concentrate. I should interview her again and see if, in her calmer state, she remembered something else.
I put away my laptop and stretched out on the hotel bed. Now it was time to put the case aside and call my wife. It was so hard to go on away missions without her, especially when it came to sleeping alone. I pulled out my cellphone and tapped in the numbers, but her voicemail picked up.
“Hey, sweetie. I’m missing you pretty bad, so give me a call as soon as you can.” I clicked on the end button and laid my cellphone on my stomach. Leaning back against the pillows, my hands linked behind my head, I let my mind drift back to our honeymoon at the Ashford Castle, in Galway, Ireland. At first, we didn’t leave the room, but finally, we felt that since Chris went to the trouble to send us there, we should probably get out and explore the Emerald Isle. But at night, we rushed back to the hotel and explored each other. Oh, the memories.
My phone rang, and I bolted upright, grabbing it and hitting the accept button. “Hey, sweetie,” I said, my smile instantaneous.
“When are you coming home?” she asked.
“Ah, baby, I wish I was there now,” I replied. “But it’s going to be a few more days. Are you finished with your case yet?”
Frankie and I sometimes worked on different cases, but we always ended the day in bed together. Now, for the first time since I married her last year, we were sleeping in separate beds.
“Yes, I’m finished with my case. Why aren’t you?” she joked, with an undertone of complaint.
“So, do you have another case waiting?” I asked.
“Just working on the scholarship backgrounds for Chris and Blackie,” she replied.
“Good, then why don’t you take the next few days off and come to me? My bed is cold and I don’t like it one bit.”
“Oh, well if it’s just the warmth of the bed you’re worried about, I’ll send you a heating pad,” she teased.
“No heating pad can take the place of you, honey, and you know it. Come on, what do you say?”
“I need to be with you too, darling. I’ll catch a flight out first thing in the morning,” she replied.
“I won’t sleep a wink until I see you again,” I boasted.
“Meg, lay back and close your eyes for me,” she said so sweetly.
“Yes, dear.” I laid back on the pillows, placing the phone on speaker.
My wife, my beautiful, sophisticated wife, began to sing a French melody to me in a raspy, deep voice, and I could hear the magneti
sm in her singing. I wanted her so bad at that moment. When she talks French to me, I’m like Gomez on that old television show, The Addams Family, instantly hot and needing to kiss her all over.
“Mon cher,” I cooed, when she finished singing. “I want to kiss every inch of you right now.”
“Hold that thought,” she said. “Jusqu'à demain, mon amour.”
“Until tomorrow, my love,” I repeated in English.
We’re All Back Together Again — Chris, Melinda, Norma, George, and Staff
Melinda was still asleep, the sheets tangled around her picturesque body. What a wondrous night we had together. She really wanted to make things up to me, even though I assured her I didn’t believe it was her fault. I think she was afraid I’d keep seeing that other woman. And she was right, I did for a very short period of time, like right after I made her scream in climax. After that all I could think about was making up for the time we’d lost. We were so relieved to be back together again that we abandoned our inhibitions in an effort to consume one another. At one point, with both of us nude, Melinda chased me through the halls and down into the living room, through the dining room, the kitchen, and into the game room where we made love on the pool table. It was my idea, Melinda didn’t want to do it. But if I could see her with her head between my breasts, I knew that I could replace the memory of that other woman. I wouldn’t be able to forget, but I could give myself something else to envision. I’m not sure what time that was, but I don’t remember seeing anyone during the great chase, although I was too consumed with lust to have noticed.
Lethargic from lack of sleep, I showered, dried my hair and pulled on a pair of stone washed jeans and picked out a spring blouse to reflect my mood. I still looked a bit ragged from our night of intense love making, but I didn’t think anyone would notice. Kissing my sleeping beauty on the forehead, I told her I would be downstairs as she stirred. She mumbled okay and went back to sleep. There’s an empowering feeling of confidence and strength when I look at Melinda. Last night I declared her mine. Her lips are mine. Her eyes, her hair, her sculpted body, her sex, all of it is mine. And last night, for the first time since I met her, I gave over everything that I am to her. Every part of me was hers. Even the dark recesses of my mind will be open to her, if she wants it. But I think perhaps we should find out why someone is setting her up first, before we face more of my demons. I don’t even want to go there right now, not when I just got Melinda back.
Separating Riches Page 17