Crown's Law

by Wolf Wootan

  “Maybe you are,” chortled Sam with a grin.

  “Asshole! How could you, of all people, think that?” she giggled. “Of course, I haven’t told you all of my sexual history. I have been with a woman before and maybe it was quite an enjoyable experience.”

  “Interesting. Maybe we can talk about arranging a threesome,” he chuckled.

  “You are a wicked and depraved man, Sam Crown!” she replied with a hearty laugh. “Maybe that’s what I like about you.”

  “Well, tell me the juicy details of this encounter,” pushed Sam.

  “Never! Strike that! I’ll tell you in Durango. You don’t seem to be jumping with joy at the chance to be with me, so I’ll have to dangle some bait. Are you coming or not?”

  “Well, let me check my calendar,” he replied.

  “You don’t have a calendar, Sam Crown! You make life up as you go along!” she laughed.

  “OK, I’ll be there. Give me the dates again,” he said. “By the way, Bo, I’ve missed you. Can’t wait to see you!”

  That made her day!

  ***

  The next day, Friday, Chandra Claudet called Sam and asked him to meet her at Sonny’s at 5 o’clock for a drink. Sam agreed. He was getting very horny. He hadn’t had sex since Bo left. There was no particular reason—he just hadn’t called any of his regulars for a date. Hearing Chandra’s voice reminded him that he needed a woman. Chandra would be perfect!

  Sam grabbed an outside umbrella table at Sonny’s and ordered a bottle of red, poured a glass, and settled in to wait for Chandra. He was a few minutes early. He was looking forward to seeing her and her sexy body. She showed up wearing a tank top and short-shorts. He felt his loins warm. He loved summer! All the women in tank tops and bikinis!

  They exchanged pleasantries while he poured her a glass of wine. They never showed real intimacy in public, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off her deep cleavage.

  “So why did you call this meeting, Chandra?” asked Sam.

  “Couldn’t it be that I miss your brand of sex?” she laughed with a wink.

  “Flattery will get you everywhere! But you’re always sniffing at a story. Come clean,” he smiled in response.

  “Well, I saw this AP release a couple of days ago about Rebecca Crown! What’s happening? And she’s being guarded by an FBI agent! I smell a story that I missed somehow.”

  “Not really. Becky wanted to be an official ‘Crown,’ so I let her change her name. The FBI agent’s a friend of hers—nothing official. Nothing sinister,” said Sam as he sipped his wine, looking at her over the rim of the glass. “I thought you were more of a ‘breaking news’ sort of journalist. Unfortunately, Becky’s accomplishments are pretty dull to the man on the street, as astounding as they are.”

  Then an idea hit Sam. A nosy reporter might know something about Dynology. From a different angle perhaps.

  “What do you know about Dynology, Inc. in Irvine, Chandra?” he asked out of the blue.

  She looked at him a beat, then said, “Never heard of them. Why?”

  “Just wondering. You have a nose for news. Something may break there soon. You’ve been good to me through the years, so, if I can, I’ll give you a heads up. Maybe you can get a scoop,” he said.

  “You peak my interest,” she said, leaning forward. “What do you know?”

  “I can’t tell you anything yet. I haven’t even told the FBI, but I think I will soon. Becky and I have vacation time scheduled; maybe after that,” he mused.

  “Well, you know I’ll take good care of you if you let me in on it. Where are you going?” she asked.

  “You know I don’t share personal stuff with the press, not even you,” he laughed. “I’m flying out Tuesday, will be back the following week. If anything breaks, I’ll give you a call. If I can. The FBI may clap me in irons!”

  “Must be hot stuff!” she laughed.

  “Enough of that! Want to split a pizza?”

  “Sure. Why don’t you freshen my wine?”

  At 6:00, their bottle of wine gone, Chandra leaned forward again and whispered, “Now, how about you dip your wick in some authentic, 7/8 French poontang?”

  He got hard quickly.

  “My parents are home, so we can’t go to the beach house,” he remarked.

  “How about the boat?” she leered.

  As soon as she said that, he went limp! He conjured up visions of him and Bo frolicking in the master stateroom’s bed.

  Shit! What’s wrong with me? I’m too young to need Viagra! What have you done to me, Rainbow Trout?

  He looked at his watch.

  “Oops! I forgot that I promised Becky that I’d go shopping with her for her vacation stuff. I’ll have to take a rain check, as much as I want to immerse myself in your luscious body!” he lied.

  “You disappoint me, Sam! I’m all horny now! I guess I’ll have to let my cameraman screw me, and you know how much that annoys me! Well, thanks for the dinner. See you after your vacation.”

  “Sure, see you then,” he said as she strutted out of the restaurant.

  Shit! he thought. This is serious! Maybe I should get an appointment with Dr. Sue!

  Chapter 43

  Tuesday, July 3, 2001

  John Wayne Airport, Orange County, CA

  Sam boarded a plane to Denver at 8:00 A.M. on Tuesday the 3rd of July. His parents and Becky had left for Spain on the previous Sunday. He didn’t tell them that he was going to be with Bo, because he knew that Becky would want to go. She was already upset about not being home for his 49th birthday on July 5th.

  “Forty-nine is no biggie, Beck. We’ll do a family thing for the big five-oh. OK?” he had told her. She finally wished him an early “Happy Birthday” and left with the Crowns.

  In Denver, Sam boarded a United Express plane for Durango. He had called Bo’s satellite phone when he arrived in Denver and she told him that she had arrived the night before. When he had boarded the small Embraer Brasilia, Sam had noticed a pretty blonde in tight jeans and an even tighter yellow tank top boarding the same flight. She had been on his flight from Orange County. He sat several seats behind her. He didn’t dare strike up a conversation with a pretty girl at this juncture. Bo wasn’t far away.

  ***

  Earlier at the John Wayne Orange County Airport, the woman in the yellow tank top had made a call on her secure satellite phone.

  “Boss? Candy here. I picked up that guy Crown at the Orange County airport. The kid’s not with him though. What do you want me to do?” Candace Brisk asked.

  “Shit! I thought they would be together! All right, maybe they’re meeting somewhere. Stick to him like glue, but don’t let him make you. Where’s he going?”

  “Looks like Denver. I gotta hurry to make that plane. I’ll call you!”

  ***

  Bo was waiting at Durango-La Plata County Airport when Sam’s flight landed. She hugged and kissed him with fervor. She was wearing jeans, brown cowboy boots, and a tight red tank top. The brown cowboy hat perched on her head was pushed back with the kiss.

  They retrieved Sam’s bag and she led him to a Jeep Cherokee and motioned him to the passenger’s seat.

  “You’re on my turf now, so I’ll do the driving,” she laughed, eyes glistening with excitement. “This is no Camaro, but it gets the job done up here.”

  “You’re the boss. How far to your place?” he smiled.

  “My dad’s place—The Durango Wilderness Lodge—is 12 miles from here. The lodge is 2 miles south of town, right on the Animas River. Buckle up! We’re on our way! I’m so glad you came, Sam!”

  As they pulled out of the airport and headed north on Highway 172, Bo said, “One thing I didn’t tell you on the phone.”

  Sam glanced at her and arched an eyebrow.

  “Oh?”

  “My parents are much like yours in the sense that they don’t want their daughter—even though I’m 36—shacking up in plain sight of their friends. So we have separate sleeping quarters,” she
said without looking at him, her eyes on the road. “But they’re the best rooms in the lodge!”

  “So you’re 36? You never told me before. You look good for such an old broad. Any boats around we can use?” laughed Sam as he ran a hand up her thigh.

  “Won’t have to. We have a connecting door, and I still have a master key on my key ring!” chortled Bo, giving him a quick glance.

  “Whew! You had me worried there for a minute!”

  “I ignored your dig about my age. You haven’t told me how old you are either.”

  “I’ll be 49 on the 5th of July, but you knew that from my bio. I guess I’m really too old to be a ‘boyfriend.’ Maybe you can call me your ‘middle-aged-male-friend,’” he chuckled.

  “Wow! We can celebrate your birthday!” she exclaimed, ignoring his dig.

  “I’d rather keep it between you and me. I don’t like being the center of attention.”

  “OK. I’ll think up some very private present for you!”

  ***

  When Bo and Sam pulled out of the airport, Candy called her boss.

  “He’s gone to roost,” she said.

  “Where?” he asked.

  “Place called Durango, Colorado.”

  “Where the hell is that?”

  She told him, then went on, “He didn’t meet the kid. He met a woman. She looks like that FBI agent whose picture you showed me with the kid. Except, she’s dressed like Dale Evans now.”

  “That is actually good news! Maybe better than the kid. I’ll call the boss and get instructions. You hang close and watch them till I call you.”

  “Shit, boss! I don’t have any luggage, and there’s sure no Macy’s in this shit hole!” she exclaimed.

  “Go buy a fucking cowboy hat! Stay there till you hear from me!”

  “Screw you! If I can find the damned trading post, I’ll buy more than a hat!” she spat. “Maybe an Indian blanket!”

  ***

  The main lodge was a 2-story, large building made of logs. Bo parked in front and led Sam to his room, which was on the second floor. He threw his bag on the bed and took in the country decor of the place. It was a large room with a queen-sized, rustic bed; a 4-drawer, knotty-pine dresser; two matching night stands with lamps. A table with two chairs in one end of the room. A spacious bathroom with a cast-iron tub on legs.

  “Where’s the connecting door?” asked Sam.

  “Is that all you can think about?” laughed Bo. “Later. Now I want you to meet my parents. I’ve told them all about you!”

  “Not all, I hope. You’ve read my dossier. Not all of that should be suitable for dinner conversation,” shrugged Sam, a little bit annoyed.

  “I know that! I was selective and discreet. Just pretend that we’re at the dating stage. I’m sure they really know that we’re . . . intimate, but they have to pretend they don’t. Appearances are important to them, too. It’s a small town. I told them about Becky, of course. They’re fascinated. Too bad she couldn’t come.”

  Sam was unpacking as Bo rambled on. There was a large closet, much larger than he needed.

  Bo went on with a laugh, “You didn’t pack your cowboy hat and boots! The ones I saw in that picture in your parents’ room?”

  “I don’t use those anymore. Those belonged to a different Sam Crown.”

  He pulled a pair of supple, brown leather cowboy boots out of his bag. “I use these now—occasionally. I never took you there, but there’s a real cowboy saloon in San Juan Capistrano—The Swallow’s Inn. I’ll have to buy a cowboy hat for your 4th of July celebration. There wasn’t room for mine. I didn’t bring my six-shooters either, so don’t ask!”

  When he was unpacked, Bo took him to the lobby of the lodge. It was quite large, with plenty of comfortable chairs, tables, lamps, and an area where coffee was always brewing. Several antlered bucks’ heads hung on the walls along with antique rifles and pistols. Mr. and Mrs. Trout were behind the large check-in counter waiting nervously to meet their daughter’s new beau.

  Sam shook hands with Travis, aged 60, and Sally, aged 58, over the large, hand-carved and hand-polished counter.

  “Pleased to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Trout. Do I need to sign in, or something? Bo has already shown me to my room,” said Sam.

  “Heavens no!” replied Sally Trout. “You’re our guest for as long as you can stay!”

  “Well, I’m deeply appreciative of that, Mrs. Trout,” Sam answered.

  Mr. Trout spoke. “Bo has told us of your hospitality out in California. The least we can do is return the courtesy. But now, let’s cut the crap! Call me Travis and the missus here Sally. We’ll call you Sam, if that’s all right!”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Travis,” laughed Sam. “I hate social encounters that are covered in a layer of syrupy bullshit! I think we’ll get along just fine! Now, is there any way to get a bite to eat around here? I haven’t eaten since 6:00 A.M. California time!”

  Travis glowered at Bo as if to say, “What’s wrong with you, woman? Why haven’t you fed this man?”

  Bo said, “I was going to take you to lunch as soon as you met my parents, Sam! There’s a rib joint just up the road. Or . . . I can fix you something in Mom’s kitchen.”

  “Let’s try the rib place. I’d like to see the town anyway.”

  “I see you do know my daughter,” laughed Travis. “She never could cook worth a damn!”

  “Dad! He knows that! I was being polite!” exclaimed Bo.

  They all laughed.

  ***

  Sam ate an entire side of baby back pork ribs with French fries, cole slaw, southwest beans, and garlic bread. He leaned back in the booth and licked his fingers.

  “Now, that was a meal!” he exclaimed. When his right hand was more or less clean, he picked up his long-neck beer and had a swig. “My mother never lets me barbecue ribs at home. She thinks they’re uncouth—too messy. Sometimes Becky and I do them when they’re not home. She loves them.”

  “I wish she was here. She could meet my brother’s kids. They’re close to her age: 16 and 14. Not mentally close, of course. You’ll meet my brother and his family later.”

  “That’s great, but how much longer before I can get your clothes off? I’ve been celibate and I need some attention!”

  “Celibate! You? I can’t believe that!” she laughed, but hoped he was telling the truth.

  “Trust me.” He looked at his watch. “I got up at 5:30 this A.M. and I could use a nap. Good enough ruse?”

  “I feel a nap coming on, too,” she giggled. “Let’s get back to the lodge. I’ll unlock the door between our rooms. We can use your room.”

  ***

  Afterwards, Sam did take a nap, relieved that he could still perform as well as ever. The incident with Chandra must have been an anomaly. Bo, still naked, sat in one of the chairs at the small table and had a cigarette. She watched Sam sleep. She was relaxed and in a blissful mood. When her cigarette was finished, she climbed back into bed and put her naked body against his. Their body heats fused and she felt as if she were a part of him. She fell into a deep sleep, a smile on her face.

  When they awoke, it was 4:30. Bo used the bathroom, then went to the chair, sat down and lit a cigarette while Sam used the facilities. Sam ambled in and sat in the other chair.

  “Does this bunk house have a wet bar? I could use a drink,” said Sam.

  “Kinda. Probably not up to your standards. Open that wooden cabinet over there. It has a small fridge with ice, wine, beer, sodas. On the shelf above the fridge I had it stocked with Cutty and some of your favorites. Even brandy and a couple of snifters.”

  “How thoughtful. You want a drink? I think I’ll have a Cutty and water.”

  “The Chardonnay is in the fridge, if you don’t mind. Though I should be waiting on you,” she replied with a crooked smile.

  Sam fixed the drinks and returned to the table. They clinked glasses and sipped their drinks.

  “Another first,” she chortled. “Cocktai
ls in the nude!”

  “Makes it hard to concentrate on the drinks.”

  Bo looked at the clock on the wall. “If you’re getting ideas, we’d better hurry. My parents are expecting us for cocktails at the roundhouse by 6:00. A lot of my friends have been invited to say ‘hello’ to me.”

  “And to see your ‘boyfriend,’ I assume.”

  “That, too,” she smiled. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “You could come sit on my lap while we finish these drinks. Do double duty. Then we can share the shower to save time.”

  “Hmm. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  ***

  Bo came back to Sam’s room after going to hers to get dressed. She wore cowboy boots, jeans, and a short-sleeved, blue blouse that buttoned up the front. Sam had donned his boots, a pair of Levi’s, and a dark blue golf shirt.

  Sam said, “You look delicious! I had never pictured you as a cowgirl before!”

  “You look a little out of your element, too. But then, you’ve never matched the image I have in my mind of what a private eye should look like—two-fisted scotch drinking, woman-seducing . . .” She stopped, threw her head back and laughed. “Wait! You are like that! What ever was I thinking?”

  He pulled her to him, kissed her gently on the lips. “I’m always who I have to be, sweet Rainbow. Who do you want me to be tonight?”

  She looked up at him. “You’ll be you, whoever you are. You’ll never pretend to be otherwise. You are still an enigma to me, Sam Crown!”

  “Even after reading my dossier? I thought you had probed the depths of my life—psycho marine, gun-happy cop, out-of-control womanizer,” he said.

  “You won’t let me forget that I read that, will you? I won’t apologize again. I received the rest of the details I requested—financials, credit report, and so on. I shredded it all without reading it. Does that win me any brownie points?” she replied, pouting.

  He kissed her again, copping a feel through her thin blouse.

  “I’ll never mention it again. What should I expect at this little get-together?” he asked.