Remember Me (41 page)

Turning, she straddled his legs and cupped his face in both her hands. Tilting his head up until their eyes met, she whispered, “Honey, you could have filled him with so much hate, but you didn't. That's all that matters. You had absolutely no control over what other people said.” Leaning close, her gaze never faltered as her mouth descended on his, kissing him deeply, yet tenderly.
His heart beating like a trip-hammer, he returned her kiss with equal fervor as he ran his hands slowly up her legs, then underneath the silk skirt she was wearing. Running both his hands behind her, he began gently caressing and kneading her panty-clad buttocks, making her moan.
Panting, she slowly began unbuttoning his shirt, then leaned forward and nibbled on the side of his neck and earlobe. Giving him a saucy smile, she moved her hips in rhythm with his groping hands.
Suddenly grabbing her hips to hold her still, he croaked, “Baby, if you keep moving like that I won't be responsible for what happens.”
“Malcolm won't be interrupting us this time, will he?” she breathed into his ear, making him squirm even more.
“Already thought of that. He flew back home this morning, had to....ahhhhh, that feels nice.....had to take care of some family business.” he managed to wheeze, then began unbuttoning her blouse with both his hands, which were trembling with excitement. Pulling the garment off her shoulders, he unhooked the back of her lacy, silk bra, pushed the garment up, then pulled her close and began to suckle one taut nipple, then the other.
Arching her back, she moaned with pleasure as his tongue and mouth nibbled, nipped, and teased, sending waves of pleasure undulating up and down, and through her voluptuous body. “Ohhhh baby, it's been so, SO long....” she nearly sobbed as she felt his hands working underneath her skirt again, this time tugging her panties down as his fingers found their way inside her, probing, exploring. “
Oh God
, I need you, Granger, I need you inside me soooo bad.” she whispered as she grabbed his hair in two fists and kissed him almost savagely.
Trembling with excitement and pent-up desire, he never broke the kiss as he stood, lifting her in his arms as he did so, then practically ran with her into the bedroom.
In a frenzied whirlwind of lust and emotions, everything seemed to blur, and Cassandra neither knew nor cared how he had laid her on the bed and undressed her so quickly. She didn't even know how they had wound up in the bedroom. All she knew or cared about was her need for him to be naked and making passionate love to her. Rising up on her knees, she grabbed his partially unbuttoned, six-hundred dollar shirt and ripped it open, not caring when buttons went flying in every direction. Admiring his muscular chest, she ran her hands up and down, and around his shoulders and chest. “Take off the rest of your clothes, I want to see what my man looks like.” she commanded in a voice that brooked no delay. “I want to see if your body is as beautiful as I think it is.”
Stunned, he was nevertheless both pleased and excited by her assertiveness, her eagerness. The old Cassandra, however passionate she had been, had never actually initiated love making, and had never been so aggressive. Her boldness was an invitation, a passionate challenge, and he was more than willing to take her up on it. “Baby, keep looking at me like that and I'll give you any damn thing you want.” he growled as he quickly shed his trousers and underwear.
When he finally stood before her completely nude, her eyes roved over his toned body slowly, smiling seductively as she saw his swollen manhood standing at rigid attention. Beckoning to him, she whispered, “Come, make love to me...husband.”
Crawling onto the bed, he pushed her back down on her back, then ran his strong hands up her calves to her knees, then parted her legs eagerly. “Do you know how much, how long I've dreamed for this day to come?” he asked in a husky voice as he slid his fingers into her wet passage. “I wanted to do this soooo bad this morning. All day long I could think of
nothing but Regan, and making love to you, my darling.” he finished as he lay flat on his belly and began teasing her swollen clitoris with his tongue, as his fingers continue their work, sliding in and out of her wet passage slowly.
The things he was doing to was almost too much for her. Grabbing his head and closing her eyes, she arched her back and began bucking, grinding his face forcefully into her throbbing center. Suddenly she felt his fingers slide out of her, and she screamed as she felt the delicious sensation of his tongue taking their place, licking, teasing, probing. “
Oh God!!!!
Oooohhhhh....ohhhhhhh.” she moaned as she felt her juices gush. “Ohhh Granger, it's been soooo long...too long....” she panted, and nearly screamed with frustration as she felt his tongue leave her area of need.
Crawling on top of her, he whispered frantically, “You're so tight, so wet, I need to be inside of you, right now.”
“Yes, give it to me,
GIVE IT TO ME
.” she nearly sobbed, then screamed with delight as she felt his thick manhood slide into her decidedly, not to be denied. Oh...yessss...yesssss, that feels soooooo good....” she whimpered as his powerful thrusts settled into a rhythm. Wrapping her arms around his back, she raked her nails down his back and nibbled on his neck as she felt her second orgasm quickly building. “Baby, I need to feel your hot seed inside me again,
please.” she
moaned as his thrusts picked up speed.
“Cass....ahhhhh....I love you...I love you so much...ahhhhhhhh!!!” he panted as he felt the explosion of his own orgasm, one so intense he felt for a moment that he would surely lose consciousness. Thrusting even more frantically, even in the throes of such passion, he marveled at the intensity and longevity of his release, one that felt as if he were pumping gallon after hot gallon of his burning seed inside her.
“Yes, give it to me,
GIVE IT TO ME!!!
” she begged again as she raked her nails down his back even more forcefully, then reached her second climax, matching his still-gyrating hips thrust-for-thrust.
Finally spent, they both collapsed, and lay there gazing at one another in silence, panting, both feeling as if their souls had connected again. Forever.
“I love you, Granger.” she whispered after a moment, then began caressing his face. She was shocked when he suddenly broke down and began to weep. “Granger, what's wrong?” she asked in a bewildered voice, then tried to sit up.
Reaching out to grab her, he pulled her back to him, and kissed her lips lovingly and tenderly. “I thought I had lost you forever, Cassandra.” he said in a soft voice as he finally broke the kiss. “Without you and Regan beside me, I would be nothing, Cass. You two are priceless, nothing or no one could ever replace either of you. And I'll thank the good Lord every day for the rest of my life, for reuniting us. I need you both, so very much.”
Reaching out and caressing his face again, she felt on the verge of tears herself. “I'm sorry
I ever doubted you.” she whispered. “Now hold me, and don't ever let go.”

                                                        Chapter 33
Granger sighed as a tide of joy washed over him, content with the turn his life taken. He looked down at Cassandra, who was sleeping peacefully, head resting on his bare chest. Smiling broadly, he pushed a fat curl off her face, wanting to make love to her again, but he knew that she was both exhausted, and most likely sore, because there wasn't an inch of her lovely body he hadn't rediscovered as they made passionate love throughout the night. It was six in the morning, and he was aching with desire. He couldn't help but want her again, she was in his system like a drug.
His smile faltered a bit as he thought about how he had manipulated her when they first met. Slipping his free hand behind his head, he fixed his gaze on the ceiling, and with the other gently caressed her as he thought about the first time they had made love:
Snowshoe Bluefield West Virginia
 

Cassandra kicked off her boots, then removed her wet jacket, draping it over a chair near the lodge door. Making her way to the roaring fireplace, she sat down and held out her hands to warm them.
“Brrrrrrr, it's cold.” she shivered, then giggled.
“I still can't believe I let you talk me into to trying skiing. I spent more time trying to stay on my feet than learning! Shoot, the four year olds were doing better than I was.”
Chuckling, he knew she was right, most of their time on the slopes had been spent with her falling and him helping her up. But for him, hands down, it had been the best time he had ever had skiing. Up till that point, the few women he had bothered to bring only wanted to go where they could be seen, or spend countless hours shopping and complaining about the cold, about how it was ruining their hair styles. But she was different, and seemed excited, even, to be out in the snow. She never got frustrated with falling, and instead had made a game of it with several children, by falling down and playing injured. The children would come to her aid, helping her up, and trying to share their limited knowledge. Just watching her, he knew she would be a great mother. In fact, several parents had voiced the same thought as they watched their children laughing and carrying on with her.
For three months he had been seeing her, under the pretense of talking about stopping the development of 'Roaring Branch'. He had used it to his advantage, knowing it was wrong, but knowing also it was the only way he could be sure she would keep seeing him.
He watched as she wrapped her hands around a hot mug, sipping some Russian tea. Although she was still smiling, it didn't quite touch her beautiful honey eyes, and he knew her well enough by now to know something was bothering her. “Sweets, something on that lovely mind of yours?” he asked causally as he took a sip from his drink, then took a seat next to her.
With a heavy sigh, she placed her mug on the coffee table and looked him in the eyes. “Are you still going to go through with your plans to develop 'Roaring Branch'’?” she asked.
He knew it would be impossible to keep stringing her along, and decided to be honest with her, and gamble that perhaps she had developed at least some feelings for him by that point. “Cass, commitments have been made, but I'll hire someone to make certain our development goes above and beyond all environmental standards the state mandates, and I'll personally see to it large areas will be protected for the wildlife and their natural habitats.” he replied, amazing even himself with his need to please her. He had never felt this way, not even with his own mother.
“Granger, you never planned on stopping development, did you?” she asked in a quiet, disappointed voice.
Not knowing what to say, he gave her a sheepish, hang-dog look.
Disgusted, she shot to her feet, grabbed her boots, and struggled to put them on, mumbling the entire time about how foolish she had been.
“Where do you think you're going? It's snowing heavily out there. You can't go down the mountain in this kind of weather.
Listen, you can stay mad from now till doomsday, but I won't allow you to leave here right now, not with the chance of you getting hurt or lost.
Or both.” he said in a panic, fearing that if he let her walk out he would never see her again. Putting his own mug down, he stood and rushed to her, grabbing her arm.
Snatching her arm from of his grasp, she looked at him and spat, “This is nothing but a game to you. What was it, Granger? Were you getting your jollies making the little eco-nerd look stupid? Guess you can go back to your trust fund buddies at that fancy country club of yours and laugh about how you strung me along!”
“I...I just wanted to spend time with you,
that’s
all!” he babbled. “I know what I did was wrong, but it was the only way I felt you would even give me the time of day! Please don't leave!” he begged. Haven't you enjoy our time together, at all? I know I have, it's been wonderful.
Don’t you want to be with me ?”
Looking him in the eyes for a moment, she sensed the desperation in them, and his voice, and felt a firm tug at her heart strings, in spite of herself. “Yes, I admit spending time with you was nice, but I don't like the fact you lied, and never had any intention of changing your mind.”
Knowing they could go back and forth all night, he decided to go for broke. Stepping forward, he reached out and pulled her into his arms roughly. Locking two hands in her hair, he leaned down and gave her a lingering, aggressive, possessive kiss. At first he didn't think she would respond, but much to his delight, she closed her eyes, moaned softly, and relaxed in his arms. After several moments he broke the kiss, then cupped her lovely face with both hands. “Cassandra, I want to make love to you, and believe me when I say I'm not lying about that.” he breathed.”
Reaching up, she touched his face, knowing there was no way she could leave, not now, not after the way his touch and kiss had set her vibrant young body on fire. “Ok, I'll be honest. Yes, I want you too, but it can only be this one time, alright?” she murmured.
That night he made love to her, and his heart swelled with pride when he learned he was the first man she had ever given herself to, the only man she ever even considered. Later, as he lay beside her in bed while she slept, he glanced at her and knew there was only one way to keep her.
Getting up, he quietly left the bedroom to make a phone call. Picking up the phone in the kitchen, he dialed. When his aide answered, he simply said, “Granger here. Send out a notice to everyone involved that the 'Roaring Branch' project is off. I've discovered a more suitable location.”
 

Shaking his head, he knew he had taken Cassandra for granted, and the knowledge made him vow for the hundredth time to do the right thing by her. If it was the last thing he ever did, he would see to it they made it through this nightmare.
At that moment she sighed contentedly, then slid her bare leg up his and nuzzled closer to him.
Leaning down, he kissed her forehead, and felt himself stiffen. Cupping one of her breasts with his hand, he tweaked the nipple playfully.
Yawning, she slapped his hand away and turned over. “ Don't even think about it. No more, at least not now, too sleepy.” she mumbled as she closed her eyes and smiled. But much to her dismay, she felt him slide closer, then felt his raging hard-on pressing against her back.
“Oh baby, come on! I have three years to make up for! I'll do all the work, it'll be like Greyhound! You just relax, and let me do all the driving!” he half whined, half panted.
Giggling, she rolled on her back and spread her legs, then gasped as she felt him slip deliciously inside her. Moaning, she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, then let him do all the driving.
                       
******************************************
Satin slid her sunglasses off, then groaned as the morning sun burned her eyes. She had always hated mornings, but this one in particular had been worse than most, because she had gotten precious little sleep the night before. Just thinking about it made her blood boil, as she thought about what had happened with her client, Gunner Beck, being picked up and held for questioning. Gunner's father had called her at eight in the evening, informing her his son had been taken to the Sheriff's office, for what they said was an “informal questioning”.
Rushing there, she had demanded to see her client, but had got the run-around instead, for hours on end. Frustrated, she had finally decided that if they wanted to play dirty, then by God, she could as well. She had phoned all the local television and radio stations, and once the news men and women had arrived, she had stood on the steps of the Sheriff's office, screaming at the top of her lungs about how her client had been taken in against his will, even though he had not officially been placed under arrest, and was being denied his civil rights. Then she dropped the bomb that made most police and government officials cringe, screaming that the Sheriff's department not only didn't care about the bill of rights, but that it was possible her client had even been physically abused, up to that point. Her little impromptu press conference, and of course, her great acting, had left the DA and
Sheriff’s
department scrambling to initiate damage control, and a mere ten minutes later, a fuming Detective Brian Lemont had brought her client out, apologizing for the mix-up, and scowling as he watched her fussing over her him.
At the moment, she was on her way to speak to the one-time legendary party girl, Marsha Crane, who had been the mistress of Granger's father.
Upon arrival, she approached the front door of the two story, ranch style home and knocked on the door. A woman, who looked much older than her fifty nine years, answered the door, and looking at her, the first thing that crossed her mind was the phrase,
'rode hard and put up wet'
. Thrusting her hand out, she put on her best smile and introduced herself. “Ms. Crane, I'm Satin Johnson, my aide called to set up this meeting.”
The woman looked at her warily for a moment, then finally took her hand and shook it. “If you don't mind my saying so, you sure don't look like an attorney.” she grunted. “You don't look like you've even been out been out of high school very long, young lady.”
With a heavy sigh, she replied, “And you would be amazed at how many times I hear that. Every day.”
With a short laugh that sounded more like a bark, the woman replied, “Well, come on in, I was making coffee for us when you rang the doorbell. Name's Marsha, but I guess you know that already.”
Stepping inside the house, she saw it was furnished with beautiful antiques, and as she followed the woman, she stopped in the living room for a moment and examined a framed photograph as her host muttered that she would be right back. Even though the picture was old, she could tell the woman in it was a much younger Marsha, and she bore a striking resemblance to the late Jayne Mansfield. The man standing next to her in the photo she knew instinctively was Mr. Joseph Mortensen. Both of them were in formal dress, and both were smiling brightly for the camera.
“He was a bitter man who hated life, and everyone, in general. That smile you see there was for the benefit of the camera, and the people around him that day he wanted to impress. Trust me when I tell you he was never happy. Not with Grace, not with me, nor any other
woman he ever shared a bed with.” the older woman explained as she reentered the room and placed a tray of coffee and blueberry muffins on the coffee table. Taking a seat, she motioned for her guest to do the same.
Taking a seat, she thanked the woman for the refreshments as she accepted the offered plate and cup. “Ms. Crane, I'm here to talk to you about the night Mr. Mortensen passed away.”
Crossing her legs, the woman smoothed out the beautiful teal embroidered house dress. “He came banging on my door that night in the wee hours of the morning, I had just arrived home from a party. I thought at first he was just drunk, and wanting to discuss my breaking off our relationship just days earlier. Of course he WAS drunk, that much I was right about, but once I had invited him inside, reluctantly, I saw immediately that someone had laid a good old fashioned, country ass whooping on him. ” she chuckled, thinking about how the usually well-dressed, dapper man had looked like a hobo that night.
Carefully balancing her plate on her legs, she replied, “Did he tell you who roughed him up?”
Nodding, she took a sip of her coffee. “Joseph said his son had attacked him, but the strange thing about that was that he seemed almost happy about it! He said that he had made certain the boy knew exactly what kind of a tramp his mother was.” she replied, then wrinkled her brows in thought. “You know, just my opinion, but he wasn't any better than Grace. As a matter of fact, in some ways he was worse. You see, he had just found out from his doctor that he had an inoperable brain tumor, the doctor had told him he would be lucky to see the New Year. Joseph wanted to make certain Granger wouldn't let Grace piss away the Mortensen fortune, so in order to do that, he told that boy some horrid things, trying to get the boy to hate his mother. If you ask me, I think it was sick and twisted what he did to that young man, although I do agree that Grace is a snake herself.”
“That was pretty low.” Satin agreed, waiting for her to continue.
“Anyway, I let him clean up, and afterwards he wanted to stay, but I said no, I had a belly full of him. I tell you, that man, he could go from nice to extremely nasty in the blink of an eye, and when he got nasty, he liked to hit. After I told him no, he cursed me and said I was no better than any other woman in his life. I'll say this, I would bet my left tit that Grace had him killed.” she said as her gaze took on a faraway, and sad look. Shaking her head a moment later, she said, “Oh, you should see this.” She then pulled a folded piece of paper from the pocket of her house dress, then handed it to her.
Taking the paper from her, she unfolded it and saw it was a photocopy of a check written out to Marsha Crane, in the amount of fifty thousand dollars, from Grace's personal account.
“She came around yesterday and gave that to me to 'forget'. She said if you came snooping around, asking about that night, that she wanted me to deny ever seeing him. Of course I
kept the check, but there’s no way I'll lie for that two-faced, K-Mart brand with money, trailer park trash. No offense to decent folks who live in trailer parks, just sayin'. Anyway, all those years I tried to get the police to listen to me about the circumstances surrounding Joseph's death, she made my life a living hell. You can keep the copy.” Shrugged her slight shoulders, she finished, “I figured she made a lot of people suffer over the years, just thought I would return the favor.”
Deciding she liked the woman very much, Satin gave her a sly smile. ”I'm guessing you cashed the check already, so there would be no way she could get her money back.”
Eyes twinkling, the older woman laughed. “You make sure when you confront her with her little scheme, to give her my regards. My momma always said, “Payback is a bitch, and I'm just the bitch to make sure she gets her comeuppance.”
With a laugh and genuine smile of her own, she replied, “Ms. Crane, I like your style.”
                     
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State Police Homicide Investigator Lieutenant Paul Marshall stood near the body of the woman who was once his partner, a woman who could have been more, but at the time he had been trying to keep a hopeless sham of a marriage together. In a futile attempt to patch things up with his then-wife, he had he left the
Sheriff’s
Department to take a job with the state police, knowing it would hurt Jeannie terribly. Regret washed over him as the medical examiner checked the body, trying to avoid the pool of congealed blood that had seeped from her once vibrant body.
The medical examiner, surprisingly young for his position, pushed his glasses up his long nose with the tip of his gloved finger, and blinked back tears. It was hard for him to see her as just another dead body, after all, he had worked with her, and even partied with her on occasions, as had the rest of their fellow officers and county officials. Clearing the lump from his throat, he tried to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and concentrate, do what he had been trained to do. “From what I can see now, she has knife wounds to the chest and neck, and she bled to death. I won't be able to tell you more until I get her back and examine her.” Standing, he removed his gloves and motioned towards a body bag that was being slowly lifted from a shallow grave nearby, and said, “As soon as I ascertain who that victim is, you'll be the first to know.”
Nodding grimly, Paul watched as an attendant carefully and reverently wrapped his former partner's body, then replied in a choked voice, “Thanks Doc, please do keep me informed. I have to go, I need to notify her baby brother. He lives in Atlantic City.”
Brett Parker, I'm coming for you...
he vowed silently as his vision blurred with the sting of tears he hadn't felt since childhood.
                        
*****************************************
Charleston, South Carolina
Cynne'' stepped out of their rented SUV, then yawned and stretched her arms over her head. They had left for the airport at four in the morning, and the lack of sleep was getting to her. Dropping her arms, she smoothed her white blouse and adjusted the belt of her black slacks as she looked around the Royal Oaks apartment complex, located in North Charleston. “So, this Lottie Patterson is supposed to just spill the beans about an illegal act she helped Brett Parker perpetrate?” she asked Raidon sarcastically.
Stepping out of the Blazer himself, he adjusted his tie and the jacket of his black tailored suit. Removing his sunglasses, he slipped them in the inside pocket. Pulling his long hair back in a ponytail in an attempt to look more professional, he gave her a saucy wink and replied, “Oh, I'll give her incentive to tell me what I want to know.”
Rolling her eyes, she pantomimed sticking a finger down her throat and gagging. In the short time she had been with him, she had learned he was a hopeless flirt, the man couldn't seem to help it. But if the man was arrogant, she had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that he had a reason to be. She had witnessed females, ages ranging from eight years to eighty, eating out of his hand at the slightest warm smile he gave them.
NOT the kind of man I need in my life...
she thought.
As they walked into the breezeway, she tapped his arm and pointed at the apartment door. “106 , this is the one.”
Not knowing who would answer the door, or what kind of disposition they would be in, he was all business now, and stepped in front of her, to shield her from harm, just in case. Knocking on the door, they waited several moments before it was finally opened by a slender white woman who looked to be in her late fifties.
Peeking around Raidon in order to get a good look at the woman, Cynne' flinched when she saw the look on her face.
“What do you want? Didn't you see the no solicitation sign!” the woman as growled as she pointed at the handwritten note on the door.
“ I don't want what you're selling
,
go away!”
Trying to slam the door shut, she cursed when he stuck one boot inside the door jamb, preventing it. “Back off!” she raged, her face turning red. “I have a gun and I'll use it, I got a right to protect myself!”
Hearing the word 'gun', Cynne yelped and clutched the back of his jacket tightly.
“Do you mind, Cynne'? You're wrinkling the threads!” he asked in an irritated voice, but never took his eyes off the angry woman. Pulling his jacket free from her grasp, he said, “Ma'am, I'm a licensed private investigator.” Withdrawing his wallet with one hand, he held it out to her slowly and carefully. “We just want to ask you a few questions about Doctor Parker, and a young African American woman who was badly injured three years ago. You, I believe, accompanied her to Mexico.”
The woman, whose name was Lottie, suddenly paled, eyes wide with genuine fear. “He..he isn't here is he? He doesn't know where I am, and I want to keep it that way. Please tell me you haven't led that maniac to my front door.” she hissed as her gaze darted fearfully past them, and up and down the hallway.