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Authors: Margrett Dawson

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Chapter Eleven

 

Over the arrangements about meeting Henry
Galston, Jane shot several surreptitious looks at the woman by the window. She
had only seen the stepmother for a couple of minutes in the murder reenactment
at the Newland mansion. And then she’d been dressed in a chiffon kind of
evening gown. This woman wore white cotton pants and a pink shirt. But her hair
was the same color and fell in soft waves to her shoulders. Her features were
eerily familiar and there was something about the tilt of her head and the way
she lifted her cup…

“What do you keep looking at?” Annice
asked.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that. You’ve hardly listened
to a word I’ve said.” Annice swiveled around and followed the line of Jane’s
gaze. “Is it the woman with the gorgeous ring? Do you know her?”

Jane felt a shiver down her spine. Trust
Annice to notice the very thing that proved it. The woman lifted her cup once
more and the light sparkled on the massive diamond cluster on her left hand.
From where Jane sat it looked just like the ring the late Mrs. Newland had worn
in the family portrait in the house.

She swallowed against a dry throat. “I
thought I’d seen her somewhere before but I’m probably wrong. I’m always seeing
people that remind me of someone else. Now, what were you saying we need to
bring for Henry?”

 

When Annice left to return to work, Jane
stayed on, watching the woman, her thoughts in turmoil. Was she going crazy?
Had Pierce influenced her mind to such an extent that she was seeing ghosts
everywhere?

She remembered the touch on Annice’s neck
that they had attributed to a cobweb in the dusty old house. But supposing it
hadn’t been a spider web? Supposing it had been Pierce’s stepmother and she’d
wanted to come back to life? Would she only have to touch someone? If she did,
and it worked, would that be all she wanted? Maybe she wanted to stop Pierce
from making a new life for himself…

The woman rose and picked up a fancy straw
bag from the seat beside her. Jane stood. What to do? Should she follow? She
had nothing but a feeling of premonition to justify her fears.

While she hesitated, the woman left some
money on the table and stepped toward the door. Jane grabbed her purse. At
least she could watch which way she went, see if she got into a car.

She reached the doorway barely thirty
seconds after the woman and stood on the threshold, scanning the street. The
mystery woman was nowhere to be seen.

 

On her way back to the apartment Jane
turned over in her mind all the possible ramifications of what she thought she
had seen. It was patently ridiculous to think that the wicked stepmother had
brought herself back to life. If she had done it by touching Annice why hadn’t
she materialized right then and there in the same way Pierce had done?

Could it be because Jane had tackled Pierce
in the middle of the murder scene? Had the murderer still been waiting around
the mansion, unable to move on?

Pierce had said that she would vanish once
her victim had disappeared but he had admitted he wasn’t really sure.

Anyway, she wasn’t even positive that the
woman she’d seen was Pierce’s killer. Lots of people look somewhat alike and
once you added the change of clothing and an active imagination you could come
up with all kinds of fantasies.

She would just keep an eye open around town
and stay close to Pierce. She smiled to herself. That wouldn’t be hard even if
it meant watching a few second-rate movies.

She buzzed the apartment on her way into
the building and stepped into the elevator. Thinking about Pierce set her heart
racing. What would he have planned for her this time? They’d done the sheik and
the slave girl last week…

The elevator stopped on the second floor
and the doors opened. Pierce stood there in a dark suit with a white shirt and
a tie. He held a briefcase in his left hand. After a few seconds staring at him
she recognized the glimmer of playful lust in his eyes. He stepped into the
car, nodded then turned his back.

“Which floor, madam?”

“Top, please.”

She feasted her eyes on the shape of his
shoulders under the smooth fabric and her heart began a crazy tattoo.

He whistled under his breath as the doors
slid shut. “Do you live in this building?” he asked.

She grinned. So the fantasy was to be two
strangers. “A friend of mine lives here. I was hoping to see him.”

“Ah! Lucky man.” Pierce slid a key into the
lock of the elevator and the mechanism stopped with a whirring sound.

He turned to her. “Sorry madam, there seems
to be a fault. It looks as if we’re trapped.”

“How long will it take to fix?”

“How long will it take to make you come?”
He put his briefcase on the floor and dropped his pants. He wore nothing
underneath.

“But I don’t know you,” she protested,
entering into the spirit of the game.

His eyes narrowed. “That is beside the
point. The price of freedom is to let me fuck you.” He ran his hand down from
her shoulder to her breast. She quivered under his touch. “Unless you want to
press the alarm button.” His lips were close to hers and he spoke against her
mouth. “Do you? Want to raise the alarm? Or do you want me inside you? Make up
your mind before someone decides to call the janitor with his other key.”

“I’ll pay the price,” she whispered and
began to unbutton her waistband. “I’m wet already.”

He pushed her against the back wall of the
car and slid his hands around her waist, pushing her thin pants down her legs.

“Floor or wall?” he whispered in her ear
and fastened his lips on her mouth.

She murmured something incomprehensible and
felt him lift her. She wound her legs around his hips and his warm, pulsing
cock slid into her hot wetness.

Someone banged on the door of the elevator
a floor above them. “Hey,” a voice shouted. “Are you okay in there?”

She hid her face against Pierce’s shoulder
to stifle her cries and her laughter.

“We’re just fine,” Pierce called out.
“We’ll have this done in a jiffy.”

Jane felt the wave build and crest in her
as Pierce convulsed, crushing her against the elevator wall.

She felt the car shudder and slid away from
him, pulling up her pants and retrieving her purse. Pierce straightened his
clothing, adjusted his tie and picked up his briefcase. He turned the key back
to its normal position and the elevator came back to life.

On the top floor, their neighbor Mrs.
Watkins was at her open door. “Oh, my dears,” she said. “Thank goodness you’re
okay. You could have been in there for hours. Whatever would you have done?”

“I’m sure we would have found something to
occupy us,” Pierce replied with a straight face. “Did you call the emergency
number?”

“I was just about to when it started up
again. But I’m going to call the management company and have them check it out.
You can’t be too careful.”

“Good thinking.” Pierce opened the door to
their apartment and stood aside for Jane to go in.

“Have a very good day, Mrs. Watkins.”

He closed the door and they both leaned
against it grinning like two naughty children.

“Where did you get that key?”

“It was hanging on a hook downstairs. I
just borrowed it for a few minutes.”

She shook her head. “You never cease to
amaze me.”

“That’s the plan.”

It wasn’t until much later that she
realized the question of the mysterious woman who looked like his stepmother
had completely left her head.

 

The next evening, Annice took them to meet
Henry Galston. Henry turned out to be a charming rogue—quite different from
Jane’s memory of him as the nerd with acne-prone skin and glasses. He wore a
smart business suit and horn-rimmed spectacles, the only remnant of his teenage
self that she recognized. But when he ushered them into his den, took off his
glasses and loosened his fashionable silk tie, he became all sophisticated,
manipulative bad boy. Annice was obviously besotted and Jane had to admit if
she hadn’t had Pierce close by her side she might have done a bit of
fantasizing herself.

Henry asked for the passport photo. “For
the driver’s license,” he said.

“Jane will teach me to drive.” Pierce
wiggled his eyebrows at her like Groucho Marx. “She’s a good teacher. Very
interesting methods.”

She nudged him with her elbow. “How long do
you think the documents will take?” she asked Henry.

“License, birth certificate, social
security card, high school diploma. One credit card. Day after tomorrow. Unless
there’s anything else you want?”

“Like what?”

“University degree, military service
record. That might take a bit longer.”

She looked at Pierce. “Do you?”

He shook his head. “I’ll get the rest on my
own steam.”

She was pleased he didn’t want to coast on
false information. She turned to Henry. “How do you do the hologram stuff? I
thought that was foolproof.”

“For fools maybe, but if you know what
you’re doing you can duplicate anything. But I won’t tell you how. Trade
secret.”

“I understand.”

They left Annice with Henry and returned to
their apartment, ready to spend the next couple of days on a diet of CNN,
horror movies and sensual rewards for good work.

 

The following week they continued to
practice Pierce’s cover story and the documents arrived from Henry. They looked
perfect. Pierce now had a birthday, a place of birth and a credit rating.

“Is it time to write a letter to your
cousin?”

“I think it is.”

In the letter, Pierce introduced himself as
the grandson of the man who’d disappeared and asked to be allowed to call.

Within two days an answer came back
instructing Pierce to present himself at the cousin’s house the following day
at eleven.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Jane asked
him.

“Sure. Let’s do it.”

They had scouted out the location of his
cousin’s house and Jane drew up outside at exactly ten minutes before the hour.

“Are you sure you want to go in alone?”

“I think that’s best. Wish me luck.”

“Luck and a good memory.” She touched him
on the arm and kissed him on the cheek.

“If I pull it off I’ll need a special
reward.”

“I don’t doubt it. I’ll think of
something.”

She watched him knock on the door and
waited until he’d been ushered into the house then drove a short distance away
for coffee. Suppose the cousin saw through him right way? Suppose Pierce’s mind
went blank at a crucial moment? She ordered coffee to go and drove back to the
house to wait. She couldn’t influence what was going on in there but it felt
better to be close at hand.

To her relief, Pierce wasn’t waiting
outside.

She parked across the street and a short
way down the block, drank her coffee, fiddled with the radio. At least Pierce
had gone into the house and all was quiet. She willed herself to relax and be
patient.

Chapter Twelve

 

Pierce waited for Jane to pull away and
took a few moments to look over the house. It was of a Cape Cod saltbox design
and he found the style reassuring. So much of what he’d seen had been concrete
and glass, especially in town, and very different from the surroundings he’d
been used to. He liked the white clapboard and the shingled roof. He took it as
a good omen that his unknown relative had chosen something well-tried and enduring.
He hoped family ties and traditions were equally important to him. The bushes
in front of the house were well trimmed, the flowerbeds neat and colorful. He
took a deep breath as Jane’s car disappeared around the corner. This was his
first big test and he’d wanted to face it on his own. Finding his way around
town and making a few purchases in the stores had been good practice but
basically trivial. This meeting would decide his future once and for all. He
couldn’t blow it. Squaring his shoulders, he walked up the stone path to the
house. The wooden door offered a choice of an oversized bell or a brass knocker
in the shape of a whale. He chose the knocker and gave a sharp rap.

The door opened to reveal a slim, erect man
with sleek silver hair and merry blue eyes in a tanned face. The only clue to
his age was a cane with a silver handle in his right hand.

Pierce knew he was staring. He should have
expected the family resemblance but seeing his cousin in the flesh took his
breath away.

The man hooked the cane over his arm and
held out his hand. “Pierce, my boy, come along in. I’d have known you anywhere.
I’m Alexander Newland. You’re the image of your grandfather at your age. It’s
quite uncanny. Come, come.”

He ushered Pierce into a sitting room at
the back of the house. Large windows looked out over an immaculate lawn and
towering beech trees cast a dappled shade.

“Sit, sit,” said his cousin. “Would you
like coffee or something stronger?”

“Nothing, thank you.” Pierce sank into a
wing armchair. “Forgive me, I’m finding it a bit overwhelming to meet someone
from the family at last.”

“Indeed, indeed.” Alexander poured a cup of
coffee from a pot sitting on a side table and took one of the other chairs.
“Let me look at you,” he said. “I always knew Pierce didn’t die, although I
wouldn’t have put anything past that witch who called herself his stepmother.
But I never understood why he never contacted me.”

“I don’t know, sir. He didn’t talk much of
his life in Maine. It was as if he drew a line under all the early years. I
think he wanted to put it all behind him.” Pierce shifted in his seat to put
one foot on the opposite knee and clasped his ankle.

“More than likely. I still remember the
ball games we went to. You know, there was one World Series game that I could
still tell you ball by ball.” He shook his head. “I was a lonely little boy and
your grandfather was good to me.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Pierce was beginning
to find it hard to stay in persona. He remembered very clearly the same ball
game and young Alex’s excitement when he got a souvenir baseball. He had to
focus and not make any slips.

“I still have the ball.”

Pierce forced himself to appear ignorant.
“How did you get that?”

“Your grandfather took me into the dressing
rooms after the game. I think he’d been to school with one of the officials.
And we came out with one of the balls they’d actually used and which had scored
the winning home run.”

“Wow! That must be pretty valuable now.”

“I wouldn’t sell it anymore than I was
willing to sell the old house. Something told me to hang on to it and I was
right.”

“Indeed you were, sir.”

Alexander put down his untouched coffee.
“Now my will says that my executor is to try to find any heirs but it seems
that won’t be necessary.”

Pierce put his hand into his pocket and
pulled out his wallet. “You’ll need some proof…” he began.

Alex waved a hand. “I’ll leave that to the
legal types, I can see you’re a Newland. Even have the same mannerisms as your
grandfather, although I don’t suppose you know that.”

“What are they, sir?”

“You sit the same way. Mind you, your
grandfather always said it was more comfortable because it took the strain off
an old football injury to his back. Did he ever mention it?”

“Yes, I believe he did.”

The old man chuckled. “You must have picked
up the habit without realizing it.”

“I guess I did.” Pierce laughed, although
he felt a sadness as he contemplated all the years and the family he’d missed.

“You know I never married.”

“I heard that.”

“Too busy enjoying life and making money.
By the time I lifted my head from the ledger books it was too late. You know
how young people think they’re immortal. There’s plenty of time, they say. Not
true, even if you live as long as I have.” He fixed Pierce with a piercing blue
stare. “Are you married?”

Pierce put both feet on the ground. “No I—”

“Don’t leave it too late like me. Enjoy
business, do you?”

“I do.”

“Any good at it?”

“Not bad.” Pierce prayed he wouldn’t ask
for stock tips or details of his investments.

“Making money isn’t everything. If you
inherit from me you won’t need much. You can do what gives you pleasure.”

“Good advice.”

“You better believe it is. Do you have a
young lady?”

“Yes. Yes I do.”

“Serious?”

“Very serious for me. She’s what I’ve
always wanted.”

“Pretty?”

“More than pretty. She’s beautiful.”

“Good, good.” The old man nodded his head.
“But does she like you?” he asked with a grin.

“She says she does. I believe her.”

“Excellent. Bring her to see me. Not enough
young people around anymore. I’m getting old and stodgy.”

Alexander levered himself to his feet with
the help of his cane. “You’ll forgive me but I have another appointment and
then I’m going to talk to the lawyers. If they give the okay we’ll redo the
will with your name. Expect to hear from them. That’s when you’ll need your
paperwork.”

He moved toward the door and Pierce stood
to follow. At the front door, the old man put his arm around Pierce’s
shoulders. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Pierce swallowed a lump in his throat as he
patted his cousin’s arm. “I’ll be back to see you soon. You take care.”

 

At last Jane saw the front door open and
Pierce appeared. He was nodding and smiling to someone inside and turned once
on the steps to wave goodbye again. He turned toward the street, took the
remaining steps in one leap then strode to the car.

Jane hardly dared ask how it had gone but
when he faced her with a smile she knew it had been okay.

“He believed you?”

“Every word.”

Jane started the car and pulled away.

“I’m to talk to the lawyers. He’s going to
call them about his will.”

“I thought he already left everything to
heirs of the family.”

“Right, but now he wants to put my name to
it.” He folded his fingers over her hand on the wheel. “The house and
everything will be mine, just as it was supposed to have been.”

Jane shook her head. “Incredible. You did
well.”

“He was a sad old boy in a way. Full of
life though. He said he was a lonely little boy and I think he was a lonely man
too. He wants to meet you.”

“He does?” Jane shot him a glance. “What
did you tell him?”

“He asked me if I was married and when I
said no he asked if I had a young lady, as he put it. I told him the truth.”

“I see.”

“I told him you were beautiful and that you
like me.”

His hand fell to her lap and his fingers
snaked their way to the juncture of her thighs. She shifted in her seat and her
breath came more quickly.

“And that you’re very special to me in
every way.” He stroked her through the fabric. “Do you like that?”

“You know I do.”

“I could make you come right now.”

“I know you could. But it might be
dangerous. I could drive right into a tree.”

“You have a problem then. What are you
going to do about it?”

Jane turned off onto a gravel road on the
right.

“Where are you going?”

“I told you I would think of something.”

She moved again in her seat and opened her
legs a little as he pressed his fingers against her mound. Immediately his hand
slid deeper between her thighs.

“Mmm,” he murmured. “You do want it.”

He removed his hand for a moment and lifted
it to his face. “I love the scent of arousal.”

“God.” Jane fought the wheel as the car
bumped down the track. The spot where his hand had been felt cold, bereft.

His hand returned to her thighs and she
moaned, clenching her teeth as he began to stroke again. His thumb found her
swollen clit. She prayed that the tiny park she had thought of would be as
deserted as it usually was. It had no beach, no swing sets, just a few picnic
tables and a fireplace for grilling. It was a favorite spot at night for teens
but no one went there during the day.

At last the gravel road ended in a small
parking lot with no vehicles. Breathing a prayer of thanks, she slammed the car
out of gear and into park. Without waiting for Pierce she hurried to one of the
picnic tables, loosening the button of her shorts as she went. She heard the
slam of the passenger door and the crunch of Pierce’s footsteps. She had given
up wearing panties a while ago. Pierce wanted her so often and she was so eager
for him that flimsy bits of lace were a decided nuisance.

At the closest picnic table she kicked off
her shorts and lay flat on her back, inviting him with her naked pussy. Pierce
was no more than twenty seconds behind her. He unzipped and freed his wonderful
long, thick cock then slid his hands down her legs to spread them. In twenty
more seconds he was standing between her thighs at the end of the table. He
lifted her hips and placed her legs over his forearms, leaving his hands free
to move up under her shirt and knead her breasts, opening her wider with each
forward movement.

In the car she’d been so close to coming
that she’d imagined she would explode like a rocket but he’d made her wait,
teasing her for what seemed like centuries. The scent of the cedar of the wood
under her shoulders mingled with the faint aroma of roasted meat and pine
branches.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders,
feeling the taut muscles as he moved. She tried to pull him down onto her as
she begged for relief but he held her off, stroking her wet pussy with the head
of his cock while she moaned and pleaded with him to fuck her, to slam into
her, make her come.

At last he slid into her and then she came
right away, moaning and shuddering as he drove into her.

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