Chapter 37

The house wouldn’t look odd at all in the suburb of an American city. In a suburb of Paris, it did. As would the others around it. Three story clapboard with a garage part of its structure.

Joe rented a Citroen, and had the limo driver, who had been approved by those that had given them the information about the place, drive them to the location. A limousine would be far too obvious in the neighborhood. The house’s owners didn’t need that. They had waited for the car’s arrival and opened the garage door for it. A two car garage. An unostentatious blue Renault was the other car.

A handsome older French couple smiled at them when they opened the door for them. It didn’t reach their serious eyes. They led Joe, Cheryl, Essie, Eloise and the driver downstairs into their basement. And through it, through a locked door that probably would have seemed a closet, but was nearly as large as the rest of the basement. There they had the tools and materials for creating forgeries.

The older man, somewhere past fifty years old, requested without introducing himself, “I’ll need your name. At least the married couple.” Essie translated.

“Joe and Cheryl Solomon,” Joe said, and wrote them down. “And this is Eloise.”

“Charmed,” the older woman, the same age as the man, nodded. “Take a seat in front of that drapery, Eloise. I’ll photograph you.” Eloise had dressed in clothing borrowed from Liang. The closest both in shape and height with her, though she was more petite in both aspects.

Once done, the woman took Eloise’s hand. “I’d like you to meet our girl,” she said, and led her out of the hidden basement area.

“You have been vetted,” the older man said. “Rather indirectly, but enough to trust you. Even so, the less you know the better. You should know our usual clientele know nothing of this place. We meet them in the city and do our work here. Meet them again when things are finished. If pictures are needed taken for a passport, we can make do wherever.”

As he talked he sat at a desk, looking over some documents.

“You are a rare exception coming here,” the man continued. “But fit in with those who do.”

“Saving runaways?” Joe asked.

“Worse. White slavery. The underage sort. And except for the young girls or boys, the agents who have extracted them, and who have managed to sneak them away from the action that ended the slavers’ activities, and neither my wife nor I need to know how violently that action took, those are the only ones allowed to know of our home.”

“Noble work,” said Cheryl.

“It does salve the conscience,” the man chuckled. “But we do need to make a living, so most of our clients aren’t in any way associated with what one might call noble.”

Joe pulled a well stuffed envelope filled with cash from his shoulder bag. The price given over the phone plus 25% more. Joe had been informed of the forgers extra activities. Activities paid for, but at a much lesser price. Joe added to it for the cause.

The man looked at the envelope. Glanced inside at the denominations. Only then did he count the money. “This wasn’t...”

“I thought you deserved more,” Joe said.

“As I said, I’m not always on the side of the angels.”

“You are enough,” Joe shrugged. He could see eyes tear up behind thick reading glasses.

The man’s wife returned and began working on a forged French passport. Attaching the image she had just done and putting it into a machine that copied perfectly the script and impressions of a real passport. Her husband worked at a much more normal looking typewriter, but on paper that had an official look to it.

“You have something with your address on it?” he asked. Joe handed him his driver’s license.

As he worked, he explained, “There’s an older couple who has worked with these abused children when they’re sent to your country. Though they have never adopted before, they have been of important service. The woman is a psychologist, specializing on sexual abuse of children and young teenagers. The man deals with logistics. Getting the girls and boys to their new families. Checking in on them on occasion. I guess both of them assuring any abuse has ended.

“The Morrows have decided to retire. They are quite old. My predecessor in this business actually worked with them. The man had met him just after the World War, when things began to happen to youngsters. He had been in service here. His wife, they had married before he was sent here at the tail end of the war, had been studying at Vasser I believe. They were from that town. And when he told her about what was happening, she immediately shifted to Psychology.

“Anyway, this is the plan. The Morrows wish to retire with their first adoptee. But they are too old to raise a troubled girl. So you will be their proxy. Did you speak to the youngster, my dear?”

“Yes,” the woman smiled. “She is quite happy to live with the Solomons.”

“Good. Good. I’m sorry, but we needed to be sure.”

“Of course,” Joe smiled.

“The plot is a bit heavy handed,” the older man continued. “Hopefully the bit of complexity will make it more convincing. She’ll be Eloise Moreau. French spelling. The American Morrows are related, supposedly. His grandfather actually immigrated to New York, changing the spelling of their name to Americanize it. So the American Morrows are her last relations after she was unfortunately orphaned.”

“Her parents suddenly died?” Joe asked.

“Yes. The past is far less provable, I admit. I think her being adopted and naturalized will take focus. But my wife and our...”

“I think you can tell them,” the woman said.

“More not the side of angels,” the man said. “We ... sometimes keep one of the unfortunates. A girl or boy, sometimes both. They need to be agreeable to it of course. Often they just wish to stay, not be moved off somewhere again. We are what you would call in America foster parents. But...”

“It’s more than that,” said the woman. “But they need to be old enough. The decision needs to be theirs, unlike before when it had been forced.”

“My wife had a couple miscarriages, and we decided not to try anymore,” the man added.

“My husband received a vasectomy, and when we agreed I could have a young man to play with, I got a hysterectomy.”

“We couldn’t chance it,” the man nodded. “Both physically and emotionally.”

“I’m not one to say,” Joe admitted.

“I know,” the woman grinned. “And the twinkle in that girl’s eyes made me want to sample it myself. But of course I can’t imagine you would find me attractive.”

“Au contraire,” Joe said. “You’re a lovely woman.” And she was. Tall and lithe, with a beauty that remained, etched with an attractive maturity. A wisdom. Her body had thickened, but not unpleasantly.

“Maybe later,” the man chuckled. “You need to coach Eloise once you’re done with the passport.”

“Nearly done, dear,” she smiled.

“So how would we have known the Morrows,” Joe asked. “Or Eloise for that matter. How would she know them or have known to come with us.”

“More complexity, I’m afraid. Correspondence between her parents and the Morrows. Her correspondence with them, with them inviting her to visit. The only one needed to be forged. We can date the postage. Eloise would have contacted them with her parents’ death. And they would have had her meet you.”

“And how would we know them?”

“I’m told they have a grandson who is part of the literati. He’s a novelist. You would have been introduced during a soiree in New York and become fast friends.”

“Who is this grandson? Maybe I have met him.”

“Let’s see. Branford.”

“Morrow,” Joe chuckled. “I have met him. Nigella knew him at Bard. He was a senior when she went there.”

“Nice guy,” Cheryl nodded.

“How long will this take?” Joe asked.

“Well into the night,” the man said.

“Why don’t you join me?” the woman asked Joe.

“I’ll stay,” said Cheryl.

“Me too,” said Essie. “To translate and this is fascinating.”

“Why don’t you join us, handsome,” the woman winked at the driver.

“Okay,” he smiled. He would be translator.

As soon as the others left, Essie said to Cheryl, “Go ahead if you want.”

“What about you? You’re better at it.”

“I like to get to know the cocks I suck, just like the pussies.”

Cheryl shrugged and turned the man’s chair and knelt and undid his pants.

“Oh,” the man responded. “Uhm, okay,” he moaned when she took in his flaccid penis.

“No fucking,” Cheryl said between sucks, Essie translating. “But at least one more when you’re done.”

“At least?” the man moaned.

Cheryl’s giggle vibrated his cock.

Joe was immediately taken by the young woman who sat with Eloise. A couple years older than his new lover, she had a remarkably prim, elegant appearance. Tall, slim and lithe. Like a dancer or a model. Or both. Despite the way she held herself, she ended up being a warm, likable woman.

She, the driver and Joe settled a couple feet away from Eloise and the older woman while the coaching happened. At some point, Joe was brought into the mix, getting the tale clear for him as well.

“Good enough,” the woman announced. “Come along.”

She led them upstairs to the master bedroom with a king sized bed. “Show me what a lover you are,” she said to Joe, stripping. Her body aged. Softened. Sagged. But Joe found it sexy nevertheless. He did have older lovers. He stripped as well and joined her on the bed. Eloise lay beside them, fully clothed. On the other side, the driver and the young woman began making out. “She’s a bit of a slut, like me,” said the older woman with a deep chuckle.

Joe took his time exploring her body. Caressing her with mouth and hands. Slowly building her pleasure. Eloise observing. Lowering when Joe lowered.

When Joe finally stayed with mouth on pussy, the woman climbing swiftly towards ecstasy before Joe backed off, she murmured, “El? May I taste you?”

“Okay,” Eloise swallowed and stripped, and straddled the older woman’s face.

“Please fuck me Joe,” the older woman moaned several minutes later, turning over and lifting her ass. Her mouth once more worked on pleasuring Eloise.

Joe complied, rolling on a readied condom, rubbing his cock on her slit before sinking in. She wasn’t all that tight, but had some moderate Kegel abilities. Joe leaned over her and kissed Eloise. The free hand not gripping the woman’s hip fondled Eloise’s breasts and tugged at her nipples until Eloise came. Then reaching down, he rubbed the woman’s clit, fucking her hard, with her fucking him back, until she too came. Joe kept up his thrusts, quickened them, sustaining her orgasm, until he got his.

Lying back afterwards, he had two women attending to his cock and one sliding over and kissing him. The young resident. It seemed the driver had been a bit too quick. But when he started to approach them and Eloise tightened, the older woman moved off her attention to Joe and attended to the driver. He might have preferred the younger women, but the older woman made sure he was agreeable. An aggressive technique on his cock.

As soon as Joe was hard enough, Eloise had his cock covered and her new friend climbed on top at her insistence, riding Joe while Eloise fondled them both.

When the young beauty approached cumming, Joe turned them over and fucked her aggressively, intensifying the orgasm when it arrived a minute later.

Eloise waited for her friend’s orgasm to fade before knocking Joe onto his back, replacing the condom with a fresh one, and hopping on. Her ride was slower. More loving. They kissed much of the time. Though not going much faster, she sank down on him with greater intensity until she reached another climax. Joe turned them over. They continued making love, ignoring the goings on beside them. The threesome. Only when her gasping ended the kissing did Joe speed up his thrusts. After one orgasm, he continued fucking her fast and hard, leading her to another. And himself. The rapid thrusts that brought him over brought her over as well. They hugged each other tight through the mutual orgasms. Their groins pushed together had the most pressure. Ecstasy lingered and made them breathless. They finally relaxed, Joe turning them over. His hand reached down to make sure the condom remained on his dwindling penis when he withdrew it. With one last sigh, she rested her head on his chest. And napped. As did he.

Less than a week later, Joe and Eddie and their entourage headed home on a private jet. Eloise as well, who fastened herself to Joe during the takeoff, her first time flying. Having to be strapped in, her petite hand tried to crush his much larger hand without much success. Hours over the ocean calmed her. The luxury of the Lear jet helped. She even whispered to Liang in French, and the amused Chinese woman translated. “It seems our little waif has heard of the mile high club.”

Joe chuckled. “Sounds like fun. A bit blatant though, even for my kids. Next time, Sweet Eloise,” he told her in French. “Promise.”

Eloise undid her seat belt, straddled him and kissed him. Nibbling on his ear, she asked, “Are you sure?”

“No,” he said, adjusting the seat back and pushing his butt forward letting his groin press against hers

She giggled and relaxed. And napped. As did he. He seemed to be able to sleep well with her on top. A sort of comforting.

Arriving on a private jet from foreign soil could have two opposite consequences. A VIP treatment of laissez faire. Or, being that it was a rocker on board, a lot more scrutiny. Usually the former, but Eddie knew not to bring drugs with him in case of the latter. Which it was this time, with the guy who headed inspection having an attitude. It seemed his daughter had been seduced by the rock and roll lifestyle and ODed because of it. Survived, barely. The first time he’d seen her in a while looking pale and weak. Barely alive. Her seducer abandoning her. Leaving a 911 message, or someone did. Putting her in the hallway of the hotel. Awaking and asking for Daddy. But even after that, even after her recovery, her rebelliousness remained. Despite living with him, she wasn’t any closer than she’d been when away.

On the plus side, Joe, who always looked respectable, and Cheryl, sexy, but dressing respectably, managed to slide Eloise through with barely a glance at her papers. Joe imagined if Eddie had been her charge, they would have gone through the documentation with a fine toothed comb.

Which made the presence of the eighty year old couple unnecessary. Nevertheless, they embraced as if old friends. And the old couple, knowing French, greeted Eloise as if they had corresponded already.

Two limos greeted the group, one of course driven by Trevor, who couldn’t help embracing his lover, though they did manage to avoid kissing. That happened safely inside the limo, Eddie taking his usual place beside his driver/lover.

Since the Morrows had taken a cab to the airport, they joined Joe and wives and Eloise in the second limo. Even if it was a deception, Joe wanted them to see the house in which Eloise would live. And he proudly showed it off, giving them and Eloise a tour, the Morrows translating for Eloise.

They had arrived late Sunday night. Tuesday would begin school. Both Rhonda and Nathan would return to classes. Cheryl had made sure homeschooling could be translated into actual schooling. Joe had to document his teaching and his tests to assure the schools accepted his kids back to their proper classes.

Monday, Labor Day, was a day of rest and recovery.

The first call received at the home late Monday morning, which actually woke up Joe, was from Cynthia.

“Jonny wants more changes,” she said. “Could you come out to LA?”

Joe sighed. “First, I can’t. I have to teach classes. Second, just ... let him. Or better yet, make the changes yourself. Both Cheryl and I have learned to trust you.”

Cheryl had awoken. “Cyn?” she asked.

Joe nodded.

“Let me talk to her.”

Their chat ended with Cheryl heading to LA. When she hung up, Joe asked, “Is there anything left with Hal?”

“I don’t think so,” said Cheryl. “If there is, you can fax me the documents. Or better yet, have Scott look at them here. You don’t want me to go?”

“I always prefer you here.”

“Me too,” she smiled and kissed him.

“And you have just arrived home from a very long flight.”

“There is that. But I’d like to make sure Jonny isn’t ruining your story.”

“And you want to see Cynthia.”

“Yeah. I’ll be here tomorrow morning to make sure the kids are in their schools properly. Joanne will be with me with Ella, and fortunately Charlie’s school starts later, so we can head up there after. I’ll take an afternoon flight. I’ll be fine.”

“You always are,” Joe smiled sadly and kissed her.

The second call came while everyone was getting up. Gayle. Cheryl and Joe were in the kitchen making brunch.

“Hi beautiful,” said Joe into the receiver and saw Cheryl smirk.

“We’re starting auditions,” Gayle told him.

“Already?”

“We put notices out last month.”

“While you were in London?”

“I was there to talk to my usual collaborators. Another reason to get things started.”

“Flying them into New York and having them stay here.”

“Some. Both my stage designer and my lighting designer decided to stay.”

“You found others?”

“An old colleague from earlier times for the stage design. He’s probably better anyway, since the British one likes his ostentation. I’ll be seeing a lighting designer who has worked at the theater tomorrow to see if we can work together.”