by Sable Hunter
Aron blew on her stomach. “You know I don’t swim very well. Tubing down the Guadalupe and soaking in the stock tank hasn’t gone a long way to preparing me for the deep blue sea.”
“I’ll make it worth your while,” she whispered in his ears, telling him of untold bedroom delights “Avery taught me that move. She learned it in the brothel.”
Aron laughed, he couldn’t help it. He loved Libby McCoy more than anything in the world. “How can I tell you ‘no’ about anything?”
She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. I’ll check into renting the gear.”
“Good. Thank you. You’ve made me happy.”
“That’s my job, Baby. Whatever it takes.”
*****
Presley spent an hour or so reading through Chloe’s notes and familiarizing herself with the files. This wouldn’t be too hard. She could handle it. More than anything, she would love to delve in and really practice law. But this would be close. It would all depend on how much leeway and responsibility Zane would grant her.
“Presley, would you like a cup of coffee?”
His question coming out of the blue made her jump. “I’m sorry,” she rose. “I’ll get it for you.”
“No, no,” sit back down. “I wasn’t hinting. This coffeepot is a dream. I can put in a little K-cup, fit my mug under the spout, push a button and there you go.” He showed her how it was done. “What do you take in yours?”
“Two sugars and a cream.” Deftly, he prepared it for her.
“You like it sweet,” he smiled. “So do I.” Zane set the coffee on her desk – never spilling a drop, then fixed another cup for himself. “Have you been able to make sense of the notes?”
“Yes, I think so.” Surprisingly, she had been able to concentrate. Zane’s presence was soothing. True, she did glance up at him from time to time when he would move around. There were several instances when she had almost got up to go to his aid, but he proved time and again that he was comfortable in his surroundings.
Her only problem was going to be how to prevent herself from developing a crush on him. Presley’s sexual experience was non-existent; she did read erotic romance and watch late night Cinemax. Apparently her libido was healthy and intact, for she kept having these erotic visions of the two of them wrapped in one another’s arms. It was strange, she had never been this ultra-aware of a man before. Right now, she was picturing herself on her knees in front of him, her fingers tugging at the zipper of his pants. Presley licked her lips.
Zane walked around the desk and sat down in front of her. She loved how his pants molded to the muscles in his thighs – Lord, he was sexy. He handed her his small recorder and she forced herself to pay attention to business.
“Here are some notes I made. I’d appreciate you taking care of these things for me. If you don’t come across related items in Chloe’s files, feel free to ask me anything. Okay?”
“I’ll be glad to, Zane.”
A slight tap at the door drew their attention. “Hello, I’ve come by to meet the new temporary employee.”
“Come in, Renee,” Zane stood. Presley could tell that he was, inherently, a gentleman. The woman approaching them was older, but elegant and sophisticated – beautiful. When she got close enough to look Presley in the face, Renee got an odd, sour expression. “Oh, my,” she didn’t even try and hide her reaction. “What happened to your . . .” The other woman caught herself, cutting the question off in midstream. “I mean, I’m Renee Wallace. I am Mr. Barclay’s secretary.”
Presley stood out of respect. She held out her hand, but the other woman was staring at Presley’s face so intently that she missed the gesture of greeting, forcing Presley to slowly drop her arm.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Wallace. I’m sure I’ll enjoy working with you.” It was a shame that she doubted her own words, but she had seen that expression before – it was distaste.
As the stately lady turned to talk to Zane, Presley touched her lip. The lower one was full and normal, but the top one was cleft. There was a vertical mark that ran from the center of her lip up towards her nose. It wasn’t as bad as it used to be, she had received corrective surgery when she was young, but medical procedures today were much more successful at eradicating a cleft than they were when she had the operation. Someday maybe, she could have plastic surgery. But until then, she just had to live with it.
“Is this a party?”
“Adam, join us. Presley, this is my partner, Adam Barclay. Adam this is Chloe’s choice of who will be taking care of me, Miss Presley Love.”
Meeting new people was never fun for Presley, and she met Adam’s eyes, hesitantly. But all she saw was a warm smile on a handsome, friendly face.
“Miss Love, welcome. How pretty you look in that yellow. You’re like a ray of sunshine this morning.”
Presley flushed, Renee frowned and Zane chuckled. “And they say I’m a smooth talker.”
“Can I talk to you a minute about the Taylor case?” Adam addressed Zane.
“Yes, I have a few ideas to pass by you.”
“Great, hold on a second, I’ll be right with you.”
Adam spoke quietly with Renee about another case and she left the room before he began to confer with Saucier. Presley took a deep breath and sat back down. As the men spoke quietly, she listened to Zane’s notes on the recorder. His deep sexy voice sent shivers of goosebumps over her arms. Shaking off her response to him, she concentrated and jotted down a few reminders.
The conference at Eagle Canyon was familiar. Chloe had left extensive notes on what needed to be done. Apparently, Zane was the main speaker. Quickly, she called up the resort’s website and was captivated by the beautiful photos. When she went to their calendar page, Zane’s photo was there and a blurb about the conference. God, he was so photogenic! She couldn’t help but glance over to where the two lawyers were intently discussing the sad case of the missing woman, Laney Taylor.
“The more I find out about what happened to Laney, the madder I get.” Adam paced in front of Zane. “She was tiny and sweet. Someone should have been watching over her. Hell, I would give anything if I had met her nine months ago.”
Zane heard the pain in his partner’s voice. He was serious. “Maybe you shouldn’t be the one to work on this case. It sounds like you’ve let your emotions get involved.”
“No, I’m exactly who should be working on this case – I care.”
“You know what the DA said, and he’s right, without a body, we’re going to have our work cut out for us. It will be up to us to prove she’s dead.”
Adam closed his eyes, pained at the thought of that son of a bitch maybe beating Laney to death. “Let’s start with what we know; it’s true that we don’t have a case for murder, but we might have a case for abuse. When the sister returned from Mainland China, she was shocked at what the neighbors said who had lived around her sister. Kendall had kept Laney isolated. He had spread the word that she was ill and mentally unstable. Shelly categorically denies this. Laney had married this man without Shelly ever having met him and all communication with her had ceased months ago. She’s convinced her sister was abused and most likely murdered and is willing to file a civil suit in order to gain access to what may very well be the crime site. I think the best place to start is with the evidence the police already have.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve done some research. Laney came to the police for help not too long ago and Sergeant Rodriguez took pictures and an in-depth video statement. Laney gave her dates and a plethora of details. I’m sad to say that the police did nothing, Kendall had laid the groundwork for just such a time and had told the police that Laney was incompetent and schizophrenic and if she were ever to come in with a wild tale of abuse, they needed to call him immediately and he would take her and return her to safety. Kendall had friends in high places. The whole thing makes me sick. After they turned Laney ba
ck over to Kendall – and they did so with her begging and crying for help – she was never seen again. Now, according to Kendall she has escaped again and no one knows where she has gone. But Shelly is adamant that if Laney were alive, she would contact her. The approach we are going to use is some deeds and coin collections that Laney was holding for Shelly. She wants them back, but that’s not all she wants. We need evidence of what happened to Laney Taylor. Kendall needs to be brought to justice, one way or the other.”
“Presley!” Zane called out. “Call the Private Investigator, Marcus O’Neil, and tell him we need a meeting with him, around two p.m., if possible. Did you already call the D. A.?”
“Yes, Sir, I did.” Presley assured him.
“Good. Marcus needs to question the neighbors and we need to find out everything we can on Kendall.” Looking at Adam sadly, he added. “We also need to hear the story in Laney’s own words, so call the police chief.”
Presley scrolled through the online rolodex and found the PI’s phone number and quickly placed the call, confirming Zane’s choice of time. Neither Adam nor Zane were hiding their concern and all Presley could think about was the poor girl and what she must have suffered. It made the verbal bullying and discrimination she had received to be of little to no consequence.
*****
“They think you’re dead, Bitch.” Raymond, or Rayford as he was known now, chunked two bottled waters down the hole.
Laney dodged them. “Let me out, please Ray? I won’t tell anyone. Please?” she begged.
“Nope,” the big burly man was adamant. “You sealed your fate the date you went to the police. Now you’re gonna die in this little grave I’ve fixed for you. How long have you been down there?”
She didn’t bother to answer him. All she could do was stare at the small circle of light and fresh air above. “Please don’t close the hole, no one can hear me. I can’t stand to be buried alive!” Panic made her whole body shake. Kendall had made her life a living hell for almost nine months. She should have run away when she had the chance instead of going to the police. What must Shelly be thinking?
“Oh, I’m taking no chances on you getting out, Slut.” He poked a couple of twinkies and some cheese crackers in the hole. “Good nutrition isn’t that important to you now, is it?” A snort of laughter echoed down to where she sat in the darkness. The creak of heavy earth on top of her made her want to scream and never quit screaming. Was this how she was going to die?
The last thing she remembered was being chained to the kitchen table. Her life had grown so small, living had become a burden. All she could do was creep as far as her chain would allow, praying to be invisible. As she had sat and eaten a piece of white bread and ketchup, Laney had felt a pinprick on her neck. Kendall had drugged her, knocked her out and when she had come to, she had found herself in this hell-hole.
Laney’s skin crawled; there were things in here with her – earthworms and other unspeakable horrors. Her tormentor had pushed her into an old tank that someone had planted in the back yard to serve as a survival bunker. There was no floor and no seats, she was sitting on bare earth with nowhere to use the bathroom but over in the corner near the back. With her bare hands, she had dug holes to hold her waste, but the smell was beginning to permeate her tiny cage. Claustrophobia was also beginning to set in. Laney had screamed and cried, but no one came. “Why don’t you just kill me, please? Just shoot me. Wouldn’t that be more merciful?”
She looked up, Kendall’s face almost blocked all light. “I’m not interested in mercy, Laney. Letting you die will be much more fun. You aren’t the first you know, I’ve done this before. I know just how long you can stay down there before you go mad.”
“Oh, God,” she prayed. “Have mercy, O God.”
Laney prayed for a miracle.
*****
The day passed quickly. Presley ate lunch at her desk and made herself at home with the work. Periodically Zane would make a comment or ask a question. Whatever he asked for, she was able to provide. A couple of times Presley wanted to give him more than he asked for – to put her education to good use – but she didn’t feel that comfortable, yet.
She had been bad during lunch. He had gone out with Rex, presumably to the kitchen area while she ate the peanut butter and jelly sandwich she had slipped into her desk drawer. Work Force temp jobs didn’t give her enough money for much more than the bare necessities.
The lunch hour was only half over when Zane had come back in and told her he was going to take a power nap in the side room. As he walked by her with his coat off, she was treated to a view of his tight rear end and the most muscled-up biceps she had ever seen. Presley’s imagination went into overdrive. After a few moments, she couldn’t resist – she followed him, slipping to the back, tiptoeing ever so quietly – just to watch him sleep.
Maybe it was because she had never been privileged to date, or maybe it was because Zane had such a knight-in-shining-armor reputation, or maybe it was because he looked like a bulked up Christian Bale – whatever the reason - all Presley could do was fantasize what it would be like to touch him. Before she could stop it, her hand reached out and if he hadn’t shifted and turned over, she would have caressed his hair. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she drew her hand back and stood as still as a deer hiding in the woods. He had loosened his tie and crossed his arms. The muscles of his arms were so big that they were clearly outlined and visible through the crisp cotton. Her mouth watered.
Presley pressed her knees together, recognizing the not-so-familiar ache that gazing at him was having on her pussy. What she wouldn’t give to feel the rough five o’clock shadow of his beard rasp over her skin. She absolutely shivered with delight. Letting her eyes rove down his body, she took all of him in. His legs were long and well-developed and – oh my goodness! -if she wasn’t mistaken, there was a definite bulge in his pants. Leaning over, she got a better look. Yea, he was hard. And as she stared at it, his cock seemed to grow even larger.
Damn! Zane didn’t need sight to know Presley Love was standing over him, watching him sleep – supposedly. He wanted to smile. She seemed so cute. If he didn’t find out what she looked like soon, he was going to go mad. He wondered if she tasted as sweet as she smelled. Her perfume had been making him hard all day. It was sweet and innocent and reminded him of sunshine and spring rain.
She was still there – watching. He didn’t feel creeped out in the least, because over the lilting scent of her perfume, he could smell her arousal. Well, well. Little Miss Presley Love was warm for his form!
She moved! He could hear the faint rustle of her clothes and the air near his cheek vibrated. It seemed as if the very cells of his body reached out to her – but she drew her hand back with a tiny, sexy gasp.
And that was when he started to get hard. Hey – he was a guy. What did you expect? To give his Little Miss a thrill, he stretched and turned on his back so she could get an eyeful.
Oh my goodness! He was huge! Presley’s jaw dropped as she gazed at the ridge of his erection under the tailored slacks. A sizzle arced its way through her girl parts and Presley wheeled on her heels and escaped before she revealed herself. Settling herself at her desk, she pressed her palms to her cheeks and smiled. This was one job perk she had never anticipated.
Despite his nap-time visitor, he had dropped off to sleep and he felt damn good. Back at his desk, Zane sat and listened to Presley talk on the phone. Her voice was perfect. It was part soft/part husky and when she got excited there was the slightest hint of a lisp with her s’s. It wasn’t annoying at all – it was sexy as hell. Now was the time to find out what she looked like – his curiosity was getting the best of him. Of course the easiest thing would be to ask someone like Sherwood or Adam, but he decided to ask her. It was always interesting to know what a person thought of themselves. “Presley, I need some help.”
“Sure, of course.” He heard her get up and walk across the room toward him. “What can I do for you?�
��
“I want you to tell me what you look like. I need an image in my head.”
Presley froze. Oh, no. Crap. Just the thought of telling Zane what she looked like sent her into a tailspin. “There’s not much to tell.” Yeah, like that was going to satisfy him.
“I lost my sight in 2007, do you look like any movie star or singer that I would know?”
“No, not hardly,” that was easy. Presley was glad he couldn’t see her because she was tensed up like a mouse hiding from a hawk. He, on the other hand, was sitting with his feet propped up on his desk looking like a sexy sultan on a harem holiday.
“I have good height and depth perception, so from the sound of your voice, you can’t be over five-foot-five.”
“I’m five-four and I weigh about a hundred twelve pounds.” Perhaps if she volunteered some information, he would be satisfied and let it go.
“What color is your hair?”
“Brown.”
“Like a fawn or like rich dark chocolate?”
“Brown like dirt.”
Zane laughed. “You aren’t being very cooperative.”
“Okay, potting soil.”
“I bet its beautiful potting soil. How long?” Zane could hear the soles of her shoes squeak as she moved. “You are looking over your shoulder, aren’t you?”
Presley got amused. “Yeah, I wanted to be accurate. It comes to the top of my bottom.”
Zane loved it. “The top of your bottom? Can I feel?”
“Sure.”
Zane held out his hand, hoping to be met with the curvature of a firm female tush, only to grasp a long silky lock as she laid it in his palm. “Hmmm, nice – not what I was expecting, but nice.”
“What were you expecting?”
“Nevermind. I like long hair. What color are your eyes?”