Chapter 1

The senior partners at Rodman, Anderson, Mikishita and Weinstein were all in agreement that the very young and very personable Ms. Misty Weston Jones was on a fast track to a full partnership.

It wasn't because she was the most skillful attorney working in the corporate law department or even because of her prestigious family connections to a host of deep-pocketed clients. The most unbiased of opinions appeared to have a consensus of agreement that the extremely attractive 28 year old honey blonde with a killer body attained "fast track" status because of her relationship with Mr. Weinstein's problem son, Anthony.

Mr. Weinstein was the most influential of the partners and their contract of partnership gave him the final approval on all major projects. He was a widower in his early fifties and was known to have a weakness for female rock singers with a liking for rough treatment. That would be considered a drawback for most middle-aged men in his position but Mr. Weinstein was powerful enough to forestall any criticism of his penchant for submissive masochistic young women.

Anthony Weinstein was a different story entirely.

He had been sent down from Cambridge for having outrageous orgies right in the student quarters. It would have all blown over except for the fact that the 18 year old daughter of a University board director became pregnant and given a rather nasty STD on the very same evening. Anthony professed complete innocence but since he was the host, it was his responsibility and he received the harshest punishment.

All of this did not slow young Anthony down at all. In fact, the following weekend he was arrested for being in possession of unauthorized medications at a party which was a scene for the tragic demise of a well-known young actress of very loose morals. The suspicion that it was related to an overdose of unknown substances caused poor Anthony to be detained in the station while the police pursued their inquiries.

Young Ms. Weston-Jones came into the picture because instead of calling an outside attorney for help, young Anthony called the firm's help-line number to get some legal advice.

It was Misty that answered the phone as the attorney on duty Todd Winters was at that very moment intensely preoccupied on top of his cousin Krista in his Aunt's spacious country estate several hours outside the city. Misty was well aware of Todd's absent without leave situation and volunteered to cover for him over the weekend.

"Rodney, Anderson, Mikashita andWeinstein, experts in all things legal. How may I help you?"

"Anthony Weinstein here. I am afraid I am in a spot of trouble. I am in the Paddington station and presently being detained to assist the police in their inquiries into a suspicious death."

Misty was worried because criminal law was not her specialty and she had never actually represented anyone with a criminal charge. But this was Mr. Weinstein's very own son and she felt obligated to do something immediately.

"Be sure to not say anything until I can get there Mr. Weinstein. My name is Misty Weston-Jones and I am an attorney at your father's firm."

"Most grateful, Ms. Jones, I will be sure to keep quiet until you get here. Please do hurry. These cells are dammably uncomfortable!"

When Misty entered the police station, she drew the attention of the entire male staff and even some of the female staff who were a bit ambiguous in their sexual preferences. Her long straight black hair and her nicely curved legs supported her lush shapely body. But it was her smile and sensuous low-pitched voice that made the desk sergeant stand up and come around to guide her back to the cell of Mr. Anthony Weinstein.

"Follow me, Miss, your man is back here. He has been behaving himself like a good chap so you can go in to talk to him and advise him of his legal rights."

Misty was a bit nervous as the thick steel door swung open revealing a sleeping form on a long wooden slat hinged into the graffiti adorned cell wall. The DS tapped the shoeless foot of young Mr. Weinstein and told him,

"Upsy daisy now, young fellow. Your counsel is here to give you what-for."

She saw Anthony sit up and suddenly she was looking into the deepest blue eyes she had ever seen in her entire life. Even at the advanced age of 28, Misty was not well-versed in matters of the heart and had only offered up her female goodies for male pleasure on rare occasions and entirely at her own instigation. Her very first sexual experience was with a close friend of her father. The elderly colonel had lost his wife and Misty had elected to console him in the cloak room of the funeral parlor while the organ played very sad and contemplative hymns. The loss of her cherry in such a circumstance always struck her as being very indicative of her almost non-existent love life.

Since that first sexual experience, Misty had avoided entanglements with handsome young men and had elected to take her pleasures under the guidance of very senior males more the age of her own father. For some strange reason, she felt quite comfortable following their instructions and even called them "daddy" if they requested her to do so. She was not in the least interested in her friend's tales of lust in the moonlight or of macho men who pulled their knickers down without so much as a "by your leave".

She much preferred the safety and the gratitude of older men who were most solicitous of her favors.

"Miss Jones, so good of you to come on the weekend. Sorry to meet in such dire circumstances. I do hope my father does not have to hear about this embarrassing peccadillo so hard on the heels of my removal from Cambridge."

Misty was well aware of the orgies at the well-respected University because they were a constant source of speculation in the lunch room at the office. She just ignored that unfortunate incident entirely and focused on the matter at hand.

"Everything you say to me is in the strictest of confidence, Mr. Weinstein. Please tell me the extent of your involvement in this actress person's death."

Misty found it much more comfortable to refer to the dead girl in the most generic of terms to remove emotions from their attorney-client relationship.

"Please call me Tony and I will call you Misty if you do not object. Well, Misty, all I really know is that the party was a great success and everything was just fine until this Miranda person barricaded herself in the back bathroom. It was amusing until we had to get the hinges off in order to get inside. The poor creature was draped over the bathtub in the most dreadful of poses. I don't believe I will ever forget the sight the rest of my life. I really didn't know her at all except for her name. Her roommate Derek did work on my motorcar from time to time. I guess he was the one who brought her to the party. He told me this wasn't the first time she had done something like this. Something about a failed engagement with a pussy hound of a policeman. That's all I know, I'm afraid. Oh, the pills were just my sleeping pills or I should say a school chum's pills that graciously let me use them when I was far too charged up to rest properly."