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From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Colin's Women {Kellis} (bg oral) [3/3]
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Date: Tue, 06 Dec 2011 21:10:04 -0500
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Colin's Women
by Kellis
Fall, 2011


Part 3


At lunchtime Colin went down to the kitchen, hoping again for a warm 
afternoon and dressed again for the porch swing.  He found Nell and 
Janey there in conversation while eating sandwiches.

"Want your usual, Grandpa?" asked Nell, springing up with a bright 
smile.

His "usual" was ham slices and delicatessen pimento cheese, grilled with
butter on a hot plate.  "If you don't mind," he said, pouring a cup of 
coffee from the pot on the stove.

While the girl worked, he sat at the table and said to her mother, "Good
afternoon, Janey.  Just as a matter of curiosity, what time did you get
in this morning?"

"I don't know," she said indifferently; "fourish, I guess."  She cocked
an eye.  "Did you enjoy your company?"

"My company?"

"I try to always check on Nell.  Her bed was empty."

"We had some powerful lightning last night."

"I noticed.  It woke me up even across town."

He wanted to ask about that but forbore for the sake of the girl's 
opinion of her mother.  He said instead, "Did you hear any news while 
you were out."

"I hit a couple of bars.  People talked about it in both."

"Anything new?"

"Just rumors and guesses.  What your friend told you is generally 
known."

He nodded.  "The incentives are wrong for the cops to keep their mouths
shut."

"What do you mean?"

"It's good for them to see their names in print, or so they think.  
They've even been known to ignore gag orders from the court."

"Everybody talks too much," she said disparagingly and took the last 
mouthful of her sandwich.

The house telephone rang.  Janey answered on the cordless that had been
beside her plate then handed the instrument to him.

"Yes," he said.

"Judge, this is Stude.  The autopsy is finished and Kramer is writing 
his report as we speak.  Chuck was killed by two strikes through the 
skull at the left temple, by a sharp penetrating instrument with a wide
base, like a woman's high heel.  And a rubber heel tip was found in his
brain."

Colin sighed.  "About what we expected, in other words."

"There's more.  The suspected shoe went to Kramer with the body.  The 
tip came from its heel, all right, but ... he says it wasn't broken off,
it was _cut_ off with a knife."

"_Cut_ off?"

"There's still more.  That heel had Chuck's DNA on it."

"So ... it was definitely the weapon?"

"Definitely _a_ weapon.  And Mitchell called me early this morning.  The
'mud' on your blue shoe was also blood and flesh, so I went to the 
roadhouse, stole one of Chuck's hairbrushes and took it to our doc.  The
DNA on _both_ shoes are from Chuck.  And get this: in the crack between
the tip and heel of the blue shoe he found _brain_ tissue, also with 
Chuck's DNA."

"Good god!  Does that make sense?"

"It might.  And I have one piece of bad news.  The cops got into Chuck's
books and found Belinda's real name: Jane Redfield Heath, at your 
address."

Colin sat in stunned silence.

Stude asked, "You there, Judge?"

"What are they waiting for, Stude?"

"You mean, why haven't they come to arrest her?  I don't know, but my 
man says they've known who she is since yesterday afternoon.  I can get
her out of town.  Just say the word."

"No, that won't work.  I guess we have to face the music.  Stude, you've
done me a real service.  I'm very grateful."

"I still owe you.  I'll be in touch if I learn anything else."

"Thanks.  And I'll call you if I think of anything further."

Colin pressed the button that hung up the phone line.

Janey said, "What music?"

He stood and said to the woman, "We have to talk.  Let's go out on the 
porch."

Nell called from her spot at the stove, "Sit at the glass table, 
Grandpa, and I'll bring your sandwich as soon as it's done."

"Thanks, Dear."

Man and woman sat at the small table, fetching their drinks.  A breeze 
made it cooler than yesterday but still tolerable.  As he finished 
relaying the conversation with Studebaker, Nell appeared with his hot 
sandwich and waited for his first bite, smiling at his exaggerated 
appreciation.

Janey said, when the girl had returned inside, "Do the cops work on 
Sunday?"

He nodded.  "They're the original 24-7 crowd."

"Then I guess I'll be going to jail today."

"I'm surprised they haven't already come for you.  Since Chuck's killing
was premeditated, getting admitted to bail will be tough."

"How do you know it was premeditated?"

"Because he must have already been on the floor for someone to stomp his
head, or so it will be argued."

The woman sighed.  "I don't care what was found on my shoe, I didn't 
kill him."

"I believe you, but a jury might not."

"What about this _other_ shoe, belonging to Nell's friend's sister?  My
god, could she be Chartreuse?"

"It's very unlikely that _two_ women stomped him.  And he must have been
_stomped_.  I don't believe a woman's hand could swing her shoe that 
hard.  As to who the sister is ...  Would you recognize Chartreuse?"

"Of course I would.  She was Chuck's assistant."

"Janey, I had another reason to talk to you.  The cops don't know about
the sister's shoe.  If I turn it over to them, I'll have to tell them 
why I was interested."

"Huh!  If they can make two and two even add up to three, they'll know 
that already."

"So you have no objection?"

She shook her head.  "Holding it out will do me no good.  At least it 
involves Chartreuse.  But how can it?  How can both our shoes have his 
brains on them?"

"I can think of a way."

"Tell me!"

"The killer may have dipped the other shoe into Chuck's head 
afterwards."

Janey's eyes flashed.  "To make me the patsy!"

"Or, as the cops will reason, to do it to Chartreuse."

"But ... but ... she left _my_ shoe there to be found!"

"The fact that Chartreuse's shoes were found in a dumpster far from the
murder is the best argument you've got so far.  Hand me that phone."

Janey had brought it outside with her.  She passed it to him and he 
dialed his friend.

"Stude, sorry to bother you again.  Did Dr. Mitchell give you a written
report?"

"Printed on his computer."

"But signed?"

"Yeah.  It's got his signature."

"Good.  Take it and the shoe to the police and tell them what you know."

"Are you sure?"

"Also tell them the shoe belongs to ...  Hold on a second.  Janey, would
you call Nell out here?"

The girl did not know Jimmy's house number, but mentally counting 
houses, they figured it out.  Colin said, "The shoe belongs to Wilma 
Wavel of 475 Mellon Street."

Stude asked, "Did she have something to do with Chuck's place?"

"We don't have any real evidence but suspect she worked there under the
name, Chartreuse."

In the telephone Colin could hear the man's pen scratching paper.

"Got it," said Stude.  "All right, Judge.  I'll take care of it right 
now."

"Thanks very much.  Let me know what happens."

"Will do."

Pressing the _Off_ button, Colin looked up at Nell.  "Can you see 
Jimmy's house from here?"

"From our front stoop, yeah."

"If you watch you might see something interesting there in 20 or 30 
minutes."

Her eyes lit.  "I'll go tell Jimmy."

Colin shook his head.  "No.  Stay here until after it happens."

"But Grandpa --"

"I mean it.  You can talk to him later."

"All right," she said grudgingly.


* * *


He didn't see Nell again until supper.  Sunday was Morrell's day off.  
As customary, Janet made sandwiches for them.

When finished eating, Colin put down his coffee cup and said to Nell, 
"What did you see at Jimmy's this afternoon?"

She shrugged and swallowed before answering.  "Nothing."

His eyebrows rose.  "Didn't the cops show up?"

"Well, yeah, but they didn't stay long.  Jimmy said they were looking 
for his sister.  She's been gone since late Friday night."

Janet nodded slightly.  "That's not surprising."

Nell cut her eyes around at her mother.  "It isn't?  Jimmy said it's the
first time she's left without telling them."

Colin said, "You said they didn't stay long.  How long?"

"About 15 minutes, I guess.  Jimmy said they had a 'such wearing.'  
What's that, Grandpa?"

He chuckled.  "I think Jimmy meant 'search warrant.'  I'm surprised they
didn't stay longer."

"They looked through her room and took some stuff away with them."

"Like what?" asked her mother.

"He said it was in bags."

Janet said dryly, "Efficient cops!"

Colin said, "They must have found something significant."

"Like what?" she asked again.

"Like a check stub from _Chuck's Roadhouse_."

"If that's how she got paid."

"Or blood-spattered clothing."

She opened her mouth to respond further but desisted after glancing at 
Nell, who was listening avidly.

The girl said, "Blood-spattered?"

He looked away.  "As an example.  The cops are always interested in 
blood."  His eyes settled on Janet.  "You'll note we're still 
undisturbed."

"That's a good sign, isn't it?"

Chin in hand, he mulled her question and said finally, "Hang in there.
They might be waiting to see what we do.  If we're still okay tomorrow,
I'll give Stude another call."

Nell looked from man to woman.  "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head.  Telling her was not an option.  "That remains to be
seen.  Janet, my dear, that was a good sandwich.  Just the right amount
of onion."

"I'm glad you liked it."

He rose from the table and turned away.  Behind him he heard Nell ask, 
"What's going on, Mama?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Honey.  Do you want a cookie?"


* * *


Monday was rainy and cold.  Janet went to her job as a librarian and 
Nell went to school.  Morrell had arrived early enough to fix everyone's
breakfast and his luncheon sandwich then departed until time to prepare
supper.

At nine o'clock Colin dialed the phone.  "May I speak to Stude?"

"Hold on."

A few seconds later another voice said, "Studebaker."

"This is Judge Redfield.  Do you have further news?"

"No, I don't, Judge.  But something has happened.  They've all clammed 
up."

Colin thought for a moment.  "That's interesting.  Do you know if they 
arrested any of the girls at the roadhouse on Friday?"

"A couple, I think.  Of course they're all released by now."

"I'm sure that's true.  Stude, thanks for all your favors."

The distant man grunted.  "Judge, I'll owe you favors the rest of my 
life."

Colin sighed.  "No you won't, Stude.  Other jobs were available."

"Not jobs that paid as well as a bodyguard's, which no ex-con could get
without a judge's recommendation."

"As it turns out, your gratitude is very good for me."

"As it should be!"

Colin spent the day reading further into his download of Grisham novels.
In midafternoon he heard the front door slam and a rapid patter of feet
on the stairs.  Nell and Jimmy appeared at his bedroom door, still 
strapped into their backpacks.  Nell had the grace to knock on the open
door.

Colin looked up with a smile.  "Hiya, Sweetie.  And hello, Jimmy.  Did 
you get wet coming home?"

Jimmy smiled in response.  Nell said, "Not much.  The bus driver stopped
right in front of my house.  Grandpa, can we play in my room?  It's wet
and cold outside."

In view of her recent midnight disclosures, he wondered what games they
would play but said only, "All right but leave the door open.  Jimmy, 
when does your mother expect you home?"

Still smiling, the lad said smoothly, "Nell asked that too.  I'll call 
Mama and tell her to pick me up here on her way home from work."

"Come on," said the girl, grasping his arm.  They disappeared down the 
hall.

A few minutes later the _Line Busy_ indicator lit on the base unit of 
his cordless.  He nodded, appeased, and returned to his novel.  He 
was soon immersed again in the gripping courtroom drama.  Grisham's hero
had just won a witty interchange of objections with the prosecutor when
Colin sat back to reflect and became aware of a distant whimpering.  It
sounded like a worried puppy at the other end of the upstairs hall.

A puppy?  Had Nell sneaked in a dog?  He laid his e-reader aside, got to
his feet and slipped silently down the carpeted hall, not wanting to 
alert the source.  Nell's door stood virtuously ajar.  He came to a halt
in the doorway, his mouth falling open.

On the single bed, counterpane drawn back, the two children reposed, 
naked except for socks.  One -- only too obviously the lad -- lay on his
back, miniature erection upstanding at a 60 degree angle with his belly.
Nell crouched over his face, knees spread beyond his shoulders and 
ankles pinning his arms, sitting up straight with her head thrown back 
and long brown hair dangling almost to his navel.  She was the 
whimperer, face contorted in an enduring orgasm -- or perhaps a series 
of them.  Even after 60 years' experience Colin was unsure about 
specifics of the female sexual response.

Riveting his attention was the perfect little cock, upthrust in its 
surround of creamy skin, hairless and unblemished.  It looked to be the
length and thickness of Colin's forefinger, perfectly straight and 
crowned by a carmine knob that was kidney-shaped from this angle.  
Colin's mouth watered and his own cock twitched.  Dumbfounded, he felt a
surge of lust to suck the pretty thing.  He froze but emitted no sound.

Fifty years earlier, while hitchhiking back to college, he had submitted
to his benefactor's lingual attention but had not returned the favor.  
He had enjoyed the experience, not least because the man had made 
admiring noises after swallowing the entire effluent, but it had been 
his only homosexual moment.  As he grew older, he sometimes wondered how
a cock would feel in the mouth but never sought the reality.  Until now.

Nell's feet flopped around in front of her and she collapsed backward 
onto the lad's torso, body shivering and fists clenched.  Her neck lay 
against the perfect cock.  With a deep sigh she visibly relaxed.

The boy's hands caught her hips and shifted her off his wet mouth.  He 
lifted his head to peer around her side and said urgently, "Now do me!"

Still atop him, she twisted her torso, bent slightly and audibly slurped
the eager erection into her mouth.  After a few head bobs she 
straightened her hips, slid off the boy's shoulders and aligned her head
with the cock in her mouth.  Now it disappeared completely.  She began 
long strokes that alternately exposed all but the head then concealed 
the whole shaft.  Colin decided that here was evidence the prepubescent
throat grows faster than the prepubescent cock.  His own organ, 
painfully harder than it had been in years, impelled him to join the 
duo.  He actually took a step forward before his senses returned like a
dash of cold water.

Jimmy either heard or saw the motion from the corner of his eye.  His 
head turned toward the door, horror showed on his face and he cried, 
"Nell!  Your grandpa!"

The girl's head and shoulders rose with a jerk.  Similar horror flashed
briefly on her face before a very different expression replaced it.  
Colin thought it was pride.  She said accusingly, "Grandpa, you didn't 
knock!"

He heaved a sigh, stepped well into the room, turned the straight chair
away from the desk and sat in it, facing the bed.  He saw the direction
of the girl's gaze and wondered if she had noticed the tented front of 
his slacks.  Each child rose to a crouched position on the bed, facing 
him.  Jimmy's hands concealed his genitals.

Frowning uncertainly, Colin considered what he should say to them.  
Jimmy may have misinterpreted the expression or also noted the tented 
slacks.  His horror changed to calculation.

He said, "Judge, you don't _have_ to slam us, do you?"

"He won't hurt us," declared Nell.

Colin said, "How old are you, Jimmy?"

"I'll be twelve next month."

Colin nodded.  "You look it but don't act it.  No, I don't _have_ to 
condemn you, but what do you think I ought to do?"

The lad hesitated, shrugged then turned face-down on the bed, elevated 
his buttocks and spread the cheeks with a hand on either.  Colin stared
into a circular crimson anus that opened out upon smooth pale skin.  A 
small dark scrotum puffed out beneath it.  He had never been interested
in pederasty except to deliver punishment as required by the law.  But 
now ...  A picture flashed into his mind of himself playing with two 
boys together, one at either end of his torso.  He clenched his fist.

"What are you doing?" asked Nell of the lad.

Colin wanted to answer, _Corrupting an ex-judge_, but took a deep breath
before saying instead, "Jimmy, please tell me what makes you think I'd 
be interested in that."

Head bent to the side, the lad answered, "Uncle Chuck is."

"My next question is where did you get the idea?  From your uncle Chuck,
I gather."

"Well, he's not really my uncle."

"Then who is he?"

"My sister's partner."

Colin felt a frisson.  "Do you know his last name?"

"Not really.  He and my sister own a bar together."

"_Chuck's Roadhouse_, by chance?"

"It might be.  I'm not sure of the name."

"Turn around and sit up."

"You're not gonna do me?"

"Do you?" exclaimed Nell.  Her mouth gaped in wonder.  "You want Grandpa
to do you in the butthole?"

As he obeyed the judge, Jimmy explained casually, "Chuck said to keep 
anybody from telling, you have to get something on them too."

Colin said, "What I want from you, Jimmy, is the whole story.  How long
have you known Chuck?"

"Wilma took me to see him in the summer.  Their place is for adults 
only, so we had to go in the back door and upstairs.  I never saw into 
the bar but I heard the noise of it."

"What happened when you got upstairs?"

"Wilma showed me to Chuck -- I mean 'innerduced.'  He gave me some pizza
and asked me if I wanted to know anything about ..."  The lad took a 
breath.  "Can I say _fucking_?"

Colin nodded.  "Tell it like it was.  I take it he was friendly with 
you."

"He asked it I knew what my ... pecker was for."

"And then he showed you one use, eh?"

The lad blinked.  "He sure did!  More than one."  Smiling reminiscently,
the boy continued, "I'm like, 'To pee with.'  He goes, 'That's nothing.
Undress him, Wilma."

"Your sister stayed with you?"

"That first time.  She left me alone with him later on."

"So he told you all about sex?"

"Mostly he showed me."

"How?"

"Well, that first time he sucked my dick and let me jack him off."

"Wow!" said Nell, eyes alight.  "Did you taste it?"

The boy blushed but nodded.

"You didn't tell me that!"

Colin considered putting her out of the room but shrugged mentally.  
"What else did you do?"

"Everything, I guess.  Chuck was what Wilma called a swinger."

"Did you see him often?"

"She took me up there several times in the summer but not after school 
started.  When I asked why, she said because I might forget and talk 
about it to other kids."

"Which you are," said Nell.

"But not really to kids."

Colin said, "What exactly did he show you?"

"How to suck his dick.  Boy, his is _big_!  And how to fuck a girl.  He
fucked Wilma to show me how."

"From your display a moment ago, I gather he sodomized you."

"Sodom--  What's that?"

"Fucked you up the ass."

"He called it 'in the backdoor.'  Oh, yeah, he did, said he liked that 
the best.  He did Wilma in the backdoor first, then me."

"What did you think of all that?"

The lad shrugged.  "I guess I liked it."

Nell asked, "Didn't it ever hurt?"

"The backdoor hurt some until I learned how to relax my hole.  Wilma 
said it was because his dick was so big."

"Oh, wow!" said Nell in an awed tone.  "You are so lucky."

That declaration by his granddaughter displeased Colin, but he was at a
loss to detect a suitable response.  He said, "Just a couple more 
questions, Jimmy.  Did Chuck share you with anyone besides Wilma?"

The boy's eyes widened.  "No, not even Wilma.  She's my sister!"

"Then no one else witnessed his meetings with you."

"I never saw anybody."

"Good.  Now, how much of Chuck's instruction have you demonstrated to 
Nell?"

"Well ..."  The lad looked elsewhere.

The girl answered for him.  "We've done oral sex to each other, like the
book calls it.  And sodomist."

"Sodomy," Colin corrected.  "In your backdoor?"

"Uh-huh."  She smiled.  "It's fun and doesn't hurt a bit.  I'm glad you
have a little cock, Jimmy."

The man said, "I'm curious why you haven't tried it vaginally."

She grinned.  "That's really another question."

"But for you, not Jimmy."

"Because you don't want me to lose my cherry yet."

Colin approved of her logic, but he shook his head.  "You kids are so 
damned _young_!"

Jimmy stared.  "What're you gonna do with us?"

The judge nodded.  "Yes, that is certainly the right question!  
Everybody claims the issue is to make kids learn.  Mine is just the 
opposite.  How do you make kids forget?"

He sighed.  "I'm tempted to separate you, to forbid you from meeting 
each other, but I'm not sure how that would improve anything.  The 
problem is not so much what you might do but who you tell about it.  And
not only that.  If the wrong person overhears you discussing these 
things or using these words, then the cat will be out of the bag and you
kids will be in a mountain of trouble."

Jimmy frowned thoughtfully.  "Does that mean you won't punish us?"

"I'm not a hypocrite.  I won't punish you for doing what the adults 
around you, myself included, have taught you.  But for god's sake, be 
careful what you say!"

The lad visibly relaxed.  Colin noted that the perfect erection had 
subsided to a thumb-sized nub.  He looked at his wristwatch.  "Jimmy, 
when does your mother leave work?"

"She gets home about six."

"Put your clothes on before that, please."  Colin nodded to the clock on
the nightstand, got to his feet and turned toward the door.

Jimmy asked hesitantly, "Will you ... play with us, Judge?"

Colin's head snapped back.  "Play with you?"

"Yes, sir.  It's better with a grownup, more ... interesting ... and 
fun."

"God, don't tempt me!"  The judge hurried from the room.


* * *


At supper, enjoyed with Janey's participation, Colin and Nell carefully
failed to mention Jimmy's visit, but the daughter noticed a difference.

"You're awfully quiet tonight, Nell.  Did something happen today?"

The girl's eyes dropped.  "Nothing to speak of."

Janey grinned.  "What's not to speak of?"

Nell looked at her grandfather with pleading eyes.

He said, "She's right.  It's not to speak of."

Janey's eyebrows rose.  "I remind you: she's my daughter!"

"Nevertheless."  He found that he wanted some discussion with the mother
preliminary to revealing the girl's progress -- if that's what it was.

The woman bit her lip.  "I guess I have to accept your judgment.  But 
what about school?  Did something happen there?"

The girl said, "No.  Well, yeah.  Margie slapped Dunston.  He jerked 
back and knocked his desk over.  Ms. Crocker took them both to the 
principal."

"Ms. Crocker is one of your teachers?"

"Yeah.  Science."

"Why'd she slap him?"

"He pinched her boob."

"Oh?  I guess some of you sixth graders have them."

"Yeah.  Margie's are big."

Colin sat back, listening to the developing discussion of pubertal 
changes, smiling internally and noting that Nell had certainly learned 
to divert her mother.

He was sipping his after-dinner coffee when the doorbell rang.  Morell 
appeared in the dining room.  "Two men to see you, Judge."  Her voice 
dropped.  "Said they're from the FBI."

"Thank you."  Colin exchanged a speculative look with his daughter, 
wiped his mouth, rose to his feet and went down the hall to the foyer.

Two suited men waited under the portico lamp, just outside the front 
door that the maid had left ajar.  Colin stopped before them.  "If 
you're FBI I'd like to see some identification."

"Of course," said the first smoothly.  Both presented folders with 
photographs and _FBI_ superimposed in red letters.

Colin stood back and motioned them to enter the adjacent living room.

They stood across the coffee table from him.  One said, "I'm Special 
Agent Towers and this is Agent Pinter.  You are Judge Colin Redfield, 
retired after ten years on the superior court bench, is that right?"

Colin acknowledged it and shook hands with both.  "Please take seats, 
gentlemen, and tell me how I can help you."

When they were seated on the couch, Colin took the facing lounger.  
Towers took out a notebook and said "We're in a hurry, Judge, which is 
the reason for interrupting your supper.  We're nailing down our case 
against a suspect and need to fix the evidence trail.  We believe you 
know an individual named Wilma Gail Wavell."

The man waited, expecting confirmation.  Colin said, "I've never met her
but, yes, I know _of_ her."

"How do you know of her, Judge?"

"My daughter was sometimes a guest at Chuck's Roadhouse, where Wilma 
worked, I believe under the name Chartreuse."

"Your daughter's name is Jane Redfield Heath?"

"That's right."

"Were you aware that Charles Edwards, the operator of Chuck's Roadhouse,
considered your daughter to be an employee also, under the name Belinda
Touez?"

"He may have done, yes," Colin conceded, "but I don't believe they had 
concluded any kind of formal arrangement."

Towers waved a hand deprecatingly.  "Your daughter is not a person of 
interest, except that one of her shoes was apparently used to implicate
her in the murder of Edwards."

Colin shrugged.  It was inconceivable that the FBI had not heard 
Studebaker's tale.  "I knew about that."

The man made a check in his notebook.  "From the reports of your friend,
William Logan Studebaker."

It was not a question.  Towers continued with a dry smile, "I suspect 
your friend didn't tell you that your daughter's shoe was wiped clean of
fingerprints but not of Edwards' blood.  The extreme unlikelihood that a
murderess would wipe off her fingerprints but leave the weapon beside 
the body is why the police have not already questioned your daughter."

Colin showed his interest with a nod.  "I wondered about that!"

"And the clincher was the fingerprints of Wilma Gail Wavell on the shoe
Studebaker furnished to the police, along with Edwards' DNA in the 
residual blood and brain tissue.  Now then, Judge, we want to know how 
you came by that shoe."

"My granddaughter came home wearing it as 'dress-up' a couple days ago.
Her friend, Jimmy, who is Wilma's brother, found it and its mate in the
trash."

"Why did you take an interest in castoff shoes?"

"Because the heel of one contained what might be dried blood and my 
daughter recognized them as identical to a pair worn by Chartreuse, said
to be part owner of Edwards' roadhouse."

Towers wrote at length and looked up at last.  "Will your family testify
to these events?"

"Yes, if necessary.  Would you please tell me, however, why the _FBI_ is
interested in a local murder?"

"Because a woman's fingerprint on the shoe you supplied matched one on 
an opera mask worn during a bank robbery, as well as others on objects 
taken from the home of Wilma Gail Wavell.  For your information, she was
arrested this afternoon after her plane landed at Las Vegas."

Colin blinked.  "Fast work!"

"Thanks to your contribution, sir."  Both men stood up.  "The federal 
prosecutor will be in touch."


* * *


When Colin told Janey the news, her relief was obvious.  She sprang 
toward the stairs.  "I'm going out to celebrate!"

Half an hour later the closing garage door had hardly ceased to rumble 
behind the car before Nell joined him in his bedroom.  She stared at him
in wonder.  "Why's Mama so excited?"

"She's off the hook?"

"What hook?"

"It's a complicated story, but you helped get her get off it and deserve
to hear all about it.  Has Morell left?"

"Ten minutes ago."

"Then come here and sit in my lap."

She skipped across the room, jumped onto him with a sideways twist, 
threw her arms around his neck, kissed him solidly on the mouth and said
when she withdrew, "Oh, Grandpa, I love you so much.  You got _me_ off 
the hook!"

"Temporarily."

Her eyes widened.  "What do you mean?"

"Your mother is responsible for you.  She needs to know what you're up 
to."

"Oh, Grandpa!" she cried, now in a very different tone.  "You won't tell
her?"

"No.  _You_ will, after I preface a few exculpatory remarks."

"Excu-- exculp--"

"Explaining that you aren't guilty alone.  Are you interested in your 
mother's problem or not?"

"Oh.  Oh, yeah, I'm interested."

"She was almost framed for murder."

The girl's eyes enlarged hugely.  "M-murder?"

"You'll note I said, 'Almost.'"  He went on to tell the whole story, 
omitting only Janey's indulgence of multiple partners and concluding 
with, "So, you see it was the shoes you and Jimmy found that unhooked 
your mother."

"Oh, wow!" breathed the girl.  "But it will be bad for Jimmy, won't it?"

"Not with the law.  Maybe about the shoes with his mother and sister."

Her eyes enlarged.  "Will he think I ratted on him?"

"On his sister, you mean.  He might, but you really had no choice, 
because of what his sister did to implicate your mother."

"Oh."  She blinked.  "That's true.  She did try to make Mama the fall 
guy."

Colin grinned.  "Your slang is suddenly aging."

The girl grinned back, not too concerned about Jimmy's attitude.  "Tell
me something, Grandpa: how long did you stand at my door?"

"I don't know."  He studied her twinkling eyes.  "A while.  Why?"

"Your dick got hard, didn't it?"

"You think so?  It could have been a wrinkle."

She shook her head.  "I might believe that of Jimmy's but not yours.  
It's too big.  What made it hard?  Did you want me to suck your cock, 
Grandpa?"

He took a deep breath.  "I wonder how many girls have ever asked their 
grandpa such a question."

"I would love to do it, you know."

She was wearing the workout clothing she had worn to supper.  She 
smelled of soap apparently after a shower.  His hand on her buttocks 
detected no underwear beneath the flannel.

He shook his head.  "Nell, we have to quit this."

"Quit what?"

"Being so intimate.  I'm convinced it's not good for you."

"You are?"  Oddly she giggled.

"What's funny?"

"Something Jimmy said that he heard from Chuck.  'Anything that feels 
good is bad for you.'"

"I'm not surprised that Chuck was a cynic."

"'And the better it feels, the worse.'"

He sighed.  "Honestly, my dear, sex itself is not bad for you.  How it's
done can be bad and what others think of you for it can be terrible, but
you can control both if you're careful."

She cocked her head.  "How do you be careful about it, Grandpa?"

"The best way is to avoid it."

"Unh-uh.  I'd have to tell Jimmy 'No.'"

"Obviously you don't want to do that."

"No, I don't.  He's a cool guy and he thinks I'm a fox."

"Well, you _are_ -- but a very young one."

"He's the only person, besides you, who knows much about it."

"How about your girlfriends -- no!  Forget I mentioned them."

She blinked.  "Why?"

"They're the worst for you to talk to.  They'll tell everyone else."

It was her turn for a reflective pause.  Slowly she nodded.  "Yeah, they
would."  Mercurially she changed the subject.  "Jimmy heard somewhere 
that what Chuck did to him will hurt his brain somehow.  Do you think it
will?"

"His brain?"

"I don't know just how to say it."

"He had several sessions with Chuck, didn't he?"

"Once or twice a week for the last half of summer."

"I heard him say he liked it.  Do you suppose he was telling the truth?"

"Hmm.  He said it hurt his asshole at first.  Yeah, I think he was."

"Else he wouldn't have admitted it hurt."  Colin paused thoughtfully and
continued, "Most of the pedophiles I've seen were charged after the 
victims grew up and claimed their personalities were damaged.  Yet 
reasons other than forceful rape were often apparent for the so-called 
victims' animosity, reasons such as envy or love of notoriety or even 
abandonment.  In many cases the victims' real complaint was that the 
accused had stopped molesting them.  If Jimmy was truthful about liking
it, I'd say he's undamaged.  Except for one consideration.  Now he wants
to do those things, but according to our society, he's too young.  If 
society learns about him, its reaction is pretty sure to hurt him one 
way or the other.  And with his sister shown to be a promiscuous bank 
robber, you can be sure the government will take a close look.  I wonder
if anyone besides Wilma ever saw him going upstairs to see Chuck."

"He said not."

"He may not have noticed."

"What's 'promiscuous' mean?"

"Having lots of sex partners."

"Oh.  Hmm.  What can I do to help Jimmy?"

"Tell him to be very careful and not to talk about it with anyone else.
And don't you talk about it."

"Except with you."

"You and I need to be more careful too.  The government knows you're 
Jimmy's friend."  Colin shook his head.  "You must quit coming to my 
bed, my darling."

She heaved a sigh.  "I was afraid you'd say that."  Suddenly she leaned
forward and kissed his lips before climbing out of his lap and standing
solemnly before him.  "You never told me that before, Grandpa.  I'll do
it, just for you.  You're the world's best grandpa.  I love you with all
my heart."

"I love you too, Nell."

She turned around and left the room, leaving him to wonder what 
conclusion she was reaching.


* * *


That evening Janey came home before eleven and soon knocked on his open
door.  "I saw your light.  May I come in?"

"Of course.  I've got a matter to discuss with you, if you're sober 
enough."

She shrugged.  "A couple beers is all."

She entered and sat in his recliner, wearing the dressy skirt, blouse 
and jewelry she had donned to go "celebrate."

Propped up in bed, he turned to regard her.  "Problems?"

"Yep -- that I'd forgotten about while I patronized Chuck's Roadhouse."

"Meaning you didn't have them there, such as no bread for your Greek 
sandwich?"

She blinked.  "I only did that a couple of nights.  No.  I mean no hot 
guys."

"Nothing but old wife cheaters?"

"And sleazes."

He grinned sourly.  "I have a hard time believing you found handsome, 
single, rich guys at Chuck's Roadhouse."

She nodded with a matching grin.  "Well, no, besides Chuck himself.  I 
mean at first."

"Honey, I've discovered that Chuck was hotter than you suspected."

She blinked.  "How could that be?"

"Not only did he like to share his women, he particularly enjoyed 
immature male assholes."

"He ... he _what_?"

Speaking at length, Colin told her of Jimmy's report.

Her reaction was incredulity.  "A kid's dream!  Jimmy's full of shit."

"I think not.  He told me in person while I watched his manner.  And I 
could testify -- though I won't -- that he has a fetching little anus, 
not to speak of a perfect little cock."

"'A perfect --'"  She chuckled, still dubious.  "My god, Pops!  Now it 
sounds like an old man's dream."

"Yes, and maybe it is.  They are.  But it's not just a dream.  I saw 
both items today in this house."

Beginning to believe, she said, "He came to your bedroom?"

"Not _my_ bedroom."

"What?  You don't ..."  Her eyes widened and she rose partially from the
chair.  "You can't mean Nell's!"

"I said I had a matter to discuss with you.  So sit back down, relax and
listen.  Actually, Nell has a matter to discuss with you, but I want to
preface her remarks with a few of my own."

The woman sagged back into the chair and said dolefully, "She's fucking
Jimmy and you want to excuse it."

"Using her words, I don't intend to 'rat on' her.  Instead I mean to rat
on myself.  As you know, she's been coming to my bed during 
thunderstorms and we talk about many things.  She's been very curious 
about sex, as you'd expect in a pubertal child.  I confess to answering
her questions without really consulting you first.  That last I regret,
though I would merely have informed you, not requested permission.  Then
Jimmy came along, knowing too much.  If blame is to be apportioned, 
Chuck and I are the blameworthy adults, in my opinion."

Janey's eyes narrowed.  "What have she and Jimmy done together?"

"Nell will tell you that.  I have only one thing to say about it: I 
believe she has retained her maidenhead."

The woman laughed mockingly.  "Why do you think so?"

"I also asked her why.  She said, 'Because you want me to.'"

Janey nodded slowly.  "I know she loves you.  It may even be true."

"As I said, I believe it is."

"You would."  She thought it over and shook her head.  "My god, she's 
still only eleven.  How old is Jimmy."

"The same."

"And Chuck, that son of a bitch, reamed his, ah, 'cute little anus?'"

"So Jimmy said."

"Which means Jimmy probably reamed Nell's.  What size is Jimmy's 
'perfect little cock?'"

"About like my forefinger.  When erect."

She smirked.  "Which you won't testify to."

"If a pedophile, at least I'm not active."

"My god, Pops; what am I going to do with you?"

He snorted softly.  "In Nell's words, will you turn me in?"

Her eyes showed interest.  "You haven't quite earned that, have you?"  
She sighed.  I guess you've taught me a bit of tolerance.  The real 
question is what should I do with Nell?"

"Hear her confession, advise her to keep silent and put her on the pill.
Unless you want to send her to the equivalent of a nunnery, which would
likely make a lesbian of her."

After a moment's reflection she said, "Mama would've half-killed _me_."

"Which is why I never mentioned Buckley Harget's visits to your 
bedroom."

"What?  How did you know about that?"

"I saw his monogrammed sweater left on your dresser.  And made sure your
mother had put you on the pill."

"Did you ever meet Buckley?"

"As a matter of fact, he appeared before me on a using charge.  He was a
lout."

She nodded.  "Yes, he was, and wanted me to sniff too.  But I knew what
it might do to you, Pops."

"Thank you for both of us."

She smiled reminiscently.  "But he was a bulgy jock and the other girls
had taught him what to do with his big dick."

"What's he doing now?"

She shrugged.  "Who knows?  Who cares?"  She continued after a sigh, "So
I wait until Nell comes by to lecture her, right?  In the meantime, you
offered to help me with my problem."

"Of acceptable men?"

"That's the one.  Guess I've lost some idealism.  They don't have to be
single or pretty or rich, but they have to be civilized and _clean_.  I
would think the members of your sex club at least fit that 
prescription."

He nodded.  "Oh, yes.  And they tend to be affluent too.  But Janey, 
this isn't the frontier.  If you ever want to marry you'll hardly find 
good prospects in a sex club."

"The frontier?"

"When women were scarce, men frequently married whores.  And said for 
the most part they made good wives."

She dropped her eyes.  "Maybe a hot prospect will come to the library 
for a little research."

"With the Internet out there?  I'm surprised public libraries are still
in business."

"It's declining," she admitted.  "What do you recommend?"

"A lot of married couples claim to have met in gyms."

"Yeah -- other people's spouses."

He chuckled.

"In the meantime," she continued, "I have a powerful itch to scratch.  
Will you speak to your madam, ah, what's her name?"

"Matie.  She's not exactly a madam.  It's the _New Fox Recreational 
Association_, not a brothel.  You don't just drop in.  Patrons are 
notified by email of scheduled meetings."

"How often?"

"Once or twice a week, depending on interest.  Of course the girls can 
make other arrangements and often do, but they're supposed to restrict 
their favors to club members."

"How is that enforced?"

"It isn't, but if a girl is proven to stray she's dropped."

"Like fired?"

"Like that, though the girls are contractors, not employees.  They're 
responsible for their own taxes."

"Will you speak to Matie?"

"Yes.  Tomorrow.  I'll let you know."

"You'll tell her I'm your daughter?"

"Of course not!"

She giggled.  "I'll be her new fox."

"You certainly will be a fox!"

"Oh, Pops!"  She crossed the room, leaned over his bed, kissed his lips,
straightened up and regarded him thoughtfully.  "Nell has the right 
idea.  I should talk to you more.  If Matie takes me on, I hope you'll 
visit me.  At the least I'll tell you everything that happens there."

He smiled.  "I'll admit I'd enjoy hearing of it."

"Then good night."

She left him with food for thought.  A latent pedophile as proven by a 
hard cock, he was about to become the pimp of his own daughter and no 
doubt next an incestuous father.  At the idea his cock stirred again.


*END*
Contact: kellis@dhp.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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