A large lump formed in Gunther’s throat. He was truly shocked by the revelation. “Christ, no. That’s impossible. Jennifer told me she was eighteen. She looks eighteen, she acts eighteen, and she never gave me any reason to believe otherwise.”
“You should have asked her to show you her ID. Smith’s been picked up at the cheap apartment where you stashed her and taken to Child Haven. She’ll be held there until her parents can drive down from Utah to pick her up. They’ll probably press charges against you, but, in the event they don’t, the DA will. Now, I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to cuff you and take you downtown. The handcuffs are department policy.”
“No. You can’t take me in now,” Hogg objected nervously. “I’m a doctor of veterinary medicine. There are a dozen sick animals in the back. I can’t leave my patients locked up here. They need my care. Their owners are depending on me,” he argued sanctimoniously.
“We’re aware of that, Dr. Hogg. Someone from Animal Care is on the way here now. We’ll wait until he picks up the animals, and then you can lock up your clinic.”
“Animal Care? Why Animal Care? That’s where they take the strays. My patients can’t go there—they could catch an infectious disease. You wouldn’t want your pets to be taken there, would you? No, that won’t work at all. Can’t you cut me a little slack, officers? It’s all a misunderstanding. The girl deceived me. I wouldn’t have knowingly initiated a sexual relationship with a juvenile. Surely, you know that. I’m forty-four years old, for Christ’s sake,” he remonstrated passionately.
“Sorry, Dr. Hogg.” Officer Luke was sympathetic but firm. “It’s out of our hands. Don’t blame us, sir. We’re just doing our job.”
The man from Animal Care pulled up in a van and walked in the clinic carrying a portable cage in each hand. Gunther avoided looking at the man. He had worked for Gunther as a kennel attendant for about a month several years prior. The man was a real blabbermouth. Gunther assumed, correctly, that word of his arrest would be all over town before the day was over.
Gunther wondered who had turned him in. It couldn’t have been Stew Lamb. He had never even seen Jennifer. It had to have been that bitch wife of his. She probably had a private eye on his tail ever since she caught him with his former girlfriend. He wouldn’t put anything past her. He vowed to get even with her, if it was the last thing he ever did.
Seven
MICHAEL WAS HAVING A BAD DREAM. In it, he was lost, shipwrecked and marooned on a tropical island, and groggy from a long, enervating swim to shore. He laid on the beach, unable to move, all strength drained from his body, an occasional wave lapping against his feet. A bright sun beat down on him. His mouth was dry, and he was hot and thirsty.
Tiny men, each no greater in height than a person’s hand, no larger than the Lilliputians in the story of Gulliver’s Travels, approached and jabbered excitedly in some strange and exotic language. Soon, they were climbing all over him. He could not lift as much as a finger to fend them off. They picked at his clothes, they rolled him over into a supine position, they prodded and explored his most intimate spots. Acting in concert and with much effort, they dragged him up the beach toward a palm tree, then pulled his arms above his head and, using a thin but strong cord, tied his hands to the tree’s trunk. Once he was secured, as if of one mind all of the little men left, marching away in a military formation, and he lay on the sand, alone, completely immobilized.
In his dream, Michael closed his eyes to shield out the blinding glare of the tropical sun. His head throbbed mercilessly. He knew he was hallucinating, with one wild apparition after another floating into and out of his mind. After what seemed to be hours in the broiling heat, he felt a shadow pass over his body and smelled the seductive scent of frangipani. He opened his eyes. A beautiful young Polynesian woman, her skin as brown as his coffee with a dash of cream, was kneeling down and leaning over him. Her hair was glossy black and fell to her waist. A lei of fresh flowers—frangipani—hung around her shoulders. She was wearing nothing else. Her quick dark eyes shimmered with interest.
She removed the lei and gently wiped Michael’s face and body with the aromatic blossoms. Everywhere the flowers touched he felt cooled and soothed.
She tried to turn his body around, so he would no longer be lying in the sun, but in the shade of the palm tree to which he was tied. Unable to move him more than a few feet, she covered his body with hers to protect it from the sun’s scorching rays. She had not said a word.
She kissed him on the lips, gently at first. Then, with intensified vigor, her tongue probed deeply into his mouth, cooling and refreshing it and replacing the juices he had lost in the searing sun. He drank eagerly of her moisture, and, as he did so, his strength slowly began to return.
Now he felt a different kind of heat, the burning coming from his groin, and his dream turned erotic. He could feel himself become hard, encouraged by her firm and full breasts pressing against his chest and her rhythmic rocking back and forth against his pelvis. She raised up momentarily, and, when she lowered her body again, she had surrounded him. They lay joined together for an undetermined length of time, neither of them moving, neither of them speaking.
He longed to pull her ever closer to him, but his arms were still bound. As if reading his mind, she sat up and pressed tightly against him, so his flesh penetrated even deeper into hers. She hummed a familiar, yet elusive, melody—or, was it a groan of ecstasy? Then, ever so slowly at first, her body began undulating. He was still unable to move, but the woman lustily more than made up for his inability to participate. He watched her breasts heave back and forth, her brown nipples occasionally brushing against his face, as again and again she repeated the rhythmic gyrating motion. Her eyes flashed with wild abandon. Faster and faster she went, sinuously, in ever increasing waves. He climaxed explosively, and when she felt his ejaculation inside of her, her orgasm followed immediately.
Without removing herself from around him, she lowered her torso so she was again lying prone on top of him. As the throbbing subsided, Michael closed his eyes once more and languished in the afterglow.
MICHAEL AWAKENED GRADUALLY. He felt as if he had been on a three-day binge. His head was pounding. His throat was dry. His arms were tied somewhere above his head, and a warm, soft weight covered his body. The smell of frangipani remained in the air. At first, he thought he was still dreaming, but when he opened his eyes, instead of an exotic brown-skinned Polynesian maiden he saw a shock of bright orange hair and pale pink flesh. Soozie Snyder’s body was practically fused to his. She was completely naked, as was he. Michael struggled to get up, waking Soozie, who had fallen asleep after having sex with him.
Soozie looked at Michael through half-closed lids. There was a smile of contentment on her face. “Easy, sweetheart,” she urged. “You’re going to be all right. Just lie back and relax.”
“Wha’ … what happened?” Michael asked. “Why are we lying here together like this?” He was totally disoriented.
“I guess we both fell asleep,” she told him. “We’ve been making love all afternoon. You’re a real stud. I thought you’d never get enough. Your wife must not take very good care of you, sweetheart, but I will. I promise you. I never met a man with a sexual appetite as big as yours, but mine is just as strong. We’re made for each other, lover.”
He rolled his eyes upward and saw that his hands were bound to the headboard. “Why am I tied up like this?” he questioned confusedly. “Untie me, please.”
“That was just a little game we were playing,” she answered teasingly. “Don’t you remember?”
Michael was incredulous. He was also getting angry. “I don’t remember a damn thing, and I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about. Now, let me loose. Please,” he petitioned.
Soozie was in no rush to relinquish control of the situation. “What’s your hurry, sweetheart? You told me you didn’t have to be anywhere special this afternoon.”
“What time is it now?”
She looked at her watch. “It’s about seven.”
“Ohmygod. I don’t believe this is happening to me. I’m late for a dinner appointment. I have to get dressed and get out of here.”
Soozie rolled off of Michael and sat next to him on the bed. She took a cigarette out of her purse and lit it, then offered to insert it between Michael’s lips. He shook his head no, and reminded her that he didn’t smoke.
“I haven’t decided yet whether I’m going to let you go or not. I might just keep you here forever and make you my love slave.” There was a glitter of raw lust in Soozie’s eyes as she made the threat.
Michael tried to raise up, without success. “Are you crazy? What in hell are you talking about?”
A hand raised and she slapped him on the face. Hard. “Don’t ever say anything like that to me again,” she glaringly reproached him. “I’m not crazy. You talked me into going to bed with you and now you’ve had me you can’t wait to go home to your wife. That isn’t very nice, sweetheart.”
Immediately, Soozie regretted losing her temper. She bent over and kissed Michael on his cheek, which was already turning red.
Michael was exasperated, but he could see he wasn’t getting anywhere with the woman by expressing his pique. He would have to try a different tack. “You’re right. I’m sorry for what I said. I wasn’t being appreciative. What do you want to do now, Soozie?”
“That’s better,” she cooed. “Now that we’re lovers, there is something you can do for me. And there’s something I can do for you.”
Michael winced. “What is it you want?”
She contemplated for a minute, as if deciding how to phrase her request. “You’re a reporter for the Las Vegas Times. Right, sweetheart?”
Michael nodded his head. “Yes. I told you that this afternoon.”
Soozie explained what she had in mind. All the time she was talking, her hand cupped and caressed and teased Michael’s organ. Despite his best efforts to ignore what she was doing, he could not prevent himself from becoming aroused.
“And so you see,” Soozie concluded, “I’m going to be your informant for what will probably be the biggest story you’ve ever covered. I’ll be like the secret source Woodward—or, was it Bernstein?—had in the Watergate investigation. What did they call him?”
“Deep Throat,” Michael muttered.
“Yes. That’s it. Deep Throat. I’ll be your own personal Deep Throat—in more ways than one.” With that comment, she bent over and took Michael’s masculinity in her mouth.
“Please don’t do that, Soozie. Please don’t,” Michael begged. She ignored his plea. He tried to pull away from her, but she bit down on him, and he realized he had no choice other than to let her have her way. It was clear she had no intention of releasing her hold until she brought him to a climax.
Afterwards, she straddled Michael’s chest. “Aren’t you ready to untie my hands yet, Soozie?” he appealed.
“Almost. But there’s one more thing I want from you first. Then, I’ll let you go. I promise.”
There was no need for Michael to ask what Soozie desired. She eased higher on his body and lowered herself in position. He was repulsed at the thought of engaging in the intimacy with someone he cared nothing at all about, but knew that doing what she expected of him was a non-negotiable condition of his freedom. As he caressed her with his lips and tongue, she moaned with pleasure. When she came it was like a volcano had erupted, the hot flow of her lava pouring into his anxious mouth.
Still, Soozie did not release him. “That was wonderful,” she complimented. “I’m already looking forward to the next time you do that. Would you like a cigarette now, sweetheart?” she asked. “I’ll hold it for you.”
“No thanks. I don’t smoke, remember?”
“I thought perhaps you’d like to start,” she teased. She lit a cigarette for herself and put on her clothes.
“You promised to untie me, Soozie,” he reminded her.
“I will, sweetheart, in just a minute. There’s something I have to do first.”
With that remark, she walked to the bookcase and picked up a video camcorder, turned it off, and left the bedroom with it. Michael struggled, but he was still tightly bound. In a few minutes, Soozie came back, wielding a large kitchen knife ominously. Michael shuddered, expecting the worst, but, to his immense relief, she slipped the shiny blade between his wrists and the nylon cord and cut him free.
“Thanks,” Michael said numbly, rubbing his chafed wrists.
“You’re welcome,” Soozie said mockingly. “Want me to help you get dressed? You look a little stiff—except where it really counts.”
“No, thanks. I can manage,” he replied testily. “Why were you taking video of us with that camcorder?”
“Oh, that’s a souvenir—and, my insurance policy. I trust you, sweetheart, I really do. Just don’t ever cross me, or I’ll send your wife a video of us making love.”
Michael hurriedly dressed and Soozie drove him back to the real estate office. She talked nonstop all the way. Michael merely listened, saying yes or no or grunting whenever a response was required. When she shut off the engine in the parking lot, Soozie put her arm around Michael, like they were the most passionate of lovers, walked him to his Mercedes, and gave him a lengthy kiss while he was trying to open the car’s door. Michael responded to her, only to get away without further complications.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, sweetheart, at your office. We can get together again tomorrow afternoon, if you’d like. Have a pleasant evening,” she said cheerfully.
Michael stared at Soozie in amazement. Could she really believe he enjoyed what she did to him? He started the car and drove off. In his rearview mirror he could see her waving goodbye.
Eight
KIMBERLY WAS STEWING. When the telephone rang, she didn’t bother to answer it. After four rings, the machine picked up the call and played her outgoing message. She turned up the volume on the speaker to find out who was on the line. As she suspected, it was Michael.
“Kimberly, if you’re home, please pick up the phone. It’s important.”
She hesitated. She was furious with Michael for standing her up. But after discerning the tone of urgency in his voice, Kimberly decided she might as well hear whatever flimsy excuse he’d come up with. She lifted the handset and raised it to her ear. “Yes, Michael, I’m here. What is it?”
“I need to see you, Kimberly. Right away.”
“You have some nerve.” She looked at her watch. “It’s almost nine. We were supposed to have dinner together tonight. I waited at the office until half past six, then came home and sat here at the house, wondering what happened to you. I was really worried about you, Michael. Finally, I tired of waiting and got ready for bed. If something came up to change your plans, at least you could have called and told me.”
“I couldn’t call you, Kimberly. I was tied up. Literally. I’ll explain when I see you. Please, let me come over.”
“Okay, Michael, but whatever you have to say had better be damn good. I’m really pissed at you.”
“Don’t be. I’ll be there in less than twenty minutes.”
“The door will be unlocked. Just come on in.”
Kimberly hung up the telephone. Michael sounded strange. Did he have a fight with Myra? she wondered. Is this the night I’m finally going to make love with him?
She went into her bedroom and removed her cotton pajamas and donned her shortest, sexiest, see-through nightie. Nothing else. She looked at herself in the mirror approvingly. Her succulent nipples were prominently displayed. Her pubic area was barely covered and showed through the fabric clearly. If this doesn’t turn him on, nothing ever will, Kimberly concluded.
When Michael entered her front door a few minutes later she could see immediately something was drastically wrong. His eyes were glazed, his clothes disheveled. She wondered if he had been drinking. She ran to him, instantly forgiving him for missing their dinner engagement. She thre
w her arms around him and gave him a big hug.
“What’s wrong, Michael? Did something happen between you and Myra?” she asked, hoping against hope he would say yes.
He pulled away from her slightly. “No, it’s something else. Let’s sit down. I’ll tell you everything.”
Kimberly took Michael’s hand and led him to the couch. He moved zombie-like, as if he were in a stupor. He appeared not to notice the way she was dressed. “I told you I was all ready for bed. Do you like my new nightie?” she hinted.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” he mumbled, without even looking.
Again, he had snubbed her, and Kimberly’s irritation returned. “Okay, Michael, why didn’t you come back to the office this afternoon? Why didn’t you take me to dinner? Why didn’t you even call?”
Michael slumped back on the couch. He avoided making eye contact when he spoke. “You know I had an appointment with a real estate agent this afternoon. We spent half an hour or so in her office and then we went out to look at a house. It was a really nice place, exactly what I had in mind.
Blue Goodness (Michael Kaplan Mysteries) Page 6
