Chapter 26

Under the new rules of engagement, we didn't accomplish as much as before, but hopefully we'd all learned a lesson. No one left the new safe house without a tender with them, and before anyone returned to the safe house, one of our tenders or a crew from Jerome's firm checked the returning party's back door. The last thing any of us wanted was to reveal our new location, a good thing, too. After a meeting with the accountant from the Wellington Company, the bad guys picked up Jason's trail. Ed was Jason's tender at the time, and he drove around until Jerome could set up a way for Jason and Ed to elude their tail. Jerome used what looked like a delivery truck to block the vehicle following Ed and Jason, and then Jason was hustled into another vehicle before returning to the safe house.

That afternoon, Melville fired the accountant, but Melville's attempted blackballing failed. Jason had arranged a new job for the man through the private investigation firm Dad was using. Following Jason's advice to avoid Melville's ire, the accountant took an extended vacation to parts unknown before starting his new job.

Jason's dirty tricks had unraveled all but one possibility that the purchase of the Wellington Company would end up profitable for Melville. The financial statements and the ledgers behind them were so jumbled that they became nearly impossible to use. Jason also messed with the payroll accounts, doubling the hourly wages of secretaries and other hourly employees and cutting executive salaries in half. Some executives resigned after receiving the discounted paychecks, and most of the hourly workers, knowing the ax would fall sooner rather than later, cashed their doubled payroll checks. The error wasn't discovered in time to stop payment on the checks. Important mail was misplaced; the copy machine stopped working; the computer network crashed; backup tapes disappeared or were erased; locks were re-keyed without new keys being issued; toilets overflowed; stop payments were issued for valid checks written to vendors, or the amounts on the checks were in error, some of them doubling the amount owed while others were cut in half; addresses were mixed up in the shipping department, and defective parts were purposefully sent to valued customers; phones and phone lines were vandalized, and Jason wasn't finished yet. Unfortunately, the fully depreciated real estate the company owned could still pull Melville's chestnuts out of the fire, and Jason was at a loss about how to sabotage that profit center. Knowing my college boy, I had no doubts that he'd figure something out.

Last Friday, Sara's planned phony party was a real hit. Melville became so angry he struck the man delivering the flowers. With our assistance, the man not only filed assault charges with the police but also initiated a civil suit asking for millions in punitive damages. Our law firm doubted he'd be awarded a substantial sum for punitive damages, but he'd win, and the aggravation the suit would generate would help keep Melville off his stride. Knowing Melville would refuse to pay any invoices connected to the party, Sara had purposefully used a variety of vendors so many of the amounts owed could be collected in small claims court. Our law firm planned to provide free assistance to the harmed vendors to file their claims.

Sara's other dirty tricks provided choice moments of merriment among our merry band. Restaurants stopped taking Melville's reservations, understandably because Melville - read Sara - had made reservations in thirty-three restaurants one night, and forty-two the next. Twenty pizzas were delivered to his door, which he refused. She enlisted Ed's help, and the new tender quietly entered Melville's house and rearranged everything, and he wasn't neat about it, either. That's when Melville moved out of his home semi-permanently, taking up residence in the Brown Palace Hotel, which stopped the flow of transcripts from our listening devices. Jerome ordered them removed; they hadn't been all that useful lately, anyway.

I'd been wrong about the child custody attorney Melville fired. He wouldn't violate the attorney/client privilege for any amount we offered. I'd attended one of the meetings with Dad to persuade him to come over to our side, but my gifts didn't help. His dying wife had forbidden him to take money from us and in so doing possibly destroy his law career.

"You need your profession, honey," his wife had told him. "After I'm gone, you'll need your income to take care of the children."

When I informed Dad what was happening, he stopped trying to tempt the man. As we were returning to the safe house, Dad said, "If an opportunity arises on another legal issue, I wouldn't hesitate to hire him, cupcake. He's a good man, and a good woman loves him enough to ask him to do the right thing, even if it shortens her life."

Still, we were winning the child custody battle. Two days after we moved to the new safe house, Dr. Logan's report arrived, and it detailed Melville's multiple episodes of child abuse, both physical and sexual. We forwarded the report to the judge, and he issued a restraining order forbidding Melville any contact with his daughter. Unfortunately, the judge also refused Sara's request for custody until after the emergency hearing requested by our law firm. The judge ordered the little girl turned over to Child Protective Services, an order we all ignored, which angered the judge. We didn't care. The war wasn't over. Our lawyers filed a criminal complaint against Melville for sexual molestation of a child, but that ploy didn't play. Not enough evidence, the authorities said, which demonstrated to us that Melville's influence with the powers that be was more effective than we'd assumed.

Sara had a couple of long conversations with Dr. Rourke, and the doctor finally agreed to be deposed regarding what she knew about Sara's mental health as well as what she believed caused Sara's problems. Personally, I didn't believe Dr. Rourke would be very forthcoming, or that the deposition would prove useful. Sara's disappearance had disappointed Dr. Rourke, and the doctor tended to be spiteful. She also demanded that Sara meet with her prior to the deposition, and Sara agreed as long as Dr. Rourke would allow one of our tenders to bring Rourke to Sara at an undisclosed location. Sara planned to take little Donna with her for the meeting to demonstrate that mother and daughter were happy together, believing such a demonstration would do more for her cause than anything else she could do. The meeting was set up for the next morning, and Jerome wasn't happy about it.

"We know Melville's not above using listening devices. Sara's mother and sister's homes were wired to the max. I figure he's wired Dr. Rourke's offices for sound, too. As a point of contact, the doctor's offices are more logical than the homes in Las Vegas. If I'm right, Melville already knows about the pending meeting. We'll need to take extraordinary measures to keep Sara and Donna safe," Jerome stated.

"Do whatever it takes," Dad ordered.

"Dr. Rourke won't appreciate what we'll do with her once she's under our control," Jerome said.

"I don't care. Do what you need to do." A shame, Dad thought. A happy psychologist would cooperate more than an unhappy one, but Sara and Donna's safety is more important than any positive testimony Dr. Rourke could give us.

"What kind of measures are you talking about?" I asked.

"The doctor expects one of us to pick her up and take her directly to Sara. Oh, she also probably expects us to make sure we're not being followed, and she'd be correct regarding the latter expectation, but not the former. I'll set up no less than six vehicle and hotel changes. I'll also change my personnel with each vehicle change, and I'll insist that Dr. Rourke alter her appearance for the last two changes. The drive from her office to Sara, which would normally take no more than a half-hour, will take about three hours, and I'll use approximately forty operatives and six vehicles for the operation. I'll also move Sara and Donna from one hotel to another at the last minute, and Twigs will do his thing with mother and daughter before and between moves."

Dad nodded. "Do it."

"It won't be cheap."

"Do it. Sara and Donna's safety is your highest priority."

Jerome grinned. "Along with Katy's."

Dad laughed. "Yep. By gosh, I think you've got it. How's Nora?"

Nora had had a consultation with her doctors that morning.

"Doing better than expected."

"Good. I'm pleased."

I, too, was pleased, but for a different motive than Dad's honest concern for a wounded friend. For one reason or another, Jerome and Nora just couldn't get together, and Nora's so-called delicate condition was the first major hurdle they needed to leap. Like Dad with Sara's mental health at first, Jerome worried about Nora's physical health, perhaps with good reason if the two of them became too excited and gentle lovemaking became a rambunctious fuck, but there were ways to express love, even get off, and still be gentle about it. Jason could give me a good come with his fingers or tongue, even his long one, without me hardly moving or breaking a sweat. If we could do it gentle-like, Jerome and Nora could, too.

Jerome had another problem related to the issue, and he was struggling coming to grips with it. He now knew he loved Nora, and he feared if he expressed his love and she felt the same way, company policy would dictate that the two of them couldn't be partners anymore. To Jerome's mind, Nora was as important to him as a partner as she was as a potential lover, and he couldn't make up his mind which way to jump. One second, he wanted her for a life-long mate, and the next moment, he couldn't imagine another partner taking Nora's place. The confused, indecisive man was in a quandary.

Nora, on the other hand, didn't give a rat's ass (her mental words) about her wound, and she hadn't considered breaking up the partnership. Dissolving the partnership just hadn't crossed her mind, at least around me.

That afternoon, everything changed, and surprisingly Jerome had no role in unraveling the current romantic stalemate.

The new safe house was much larger than the old one. The two-story home contained eight bedrooms and four baths, plus a powder room, a large formal dining room, a living room, as well as a great room, including an open, well-appointed kitchen and a kitchen eating area that served eight.

A mother-in-law cottage was unattached behind the house to the west. I've mentioned the swimming pool, but the not the bathhouse, which was also unattached to the east. The hot tub was located between the bathhouse and the swimming pool.

This safe house didn't boast a bomb shelter, but the wine cellar opened to a secret underground passage that led to a concealed opening in a gully at the rear of the property.

I didn't know what we were paying for the facility, but it had to be a pretty penny and then some.

I'd returned from a stressful meeting listening to Melville and his business attorney bemoan the troubles Melville was having with his latest purchase and decided the hot tub would provide some needed relief. After twenty minutes, I felt weak from the bubbling heat, but completely relaxed, and as I was moving to the bathhouse to rinse off the chlorine, Jason arrived. He walked with me into the bathhouse, telling me about the dirty tricks that he and his coconspirators had played on Melville that morning. I showered; Jason declined to join me but waited until I finished.

The bathhouse didn't have a door, per se, just an opening with a privacy screen, so I heard Nora's thoughts when she came out of the house and stretched out on a chaise lounge to get some sun. She wasn't a happy camper.

Double damn him, Nora cursed silently. Katy says he loves me, and I've noticed he treats me differently lately, more loving than he used to, but if he loves me why is he fucking Marsha?

A different emotional signature stepped outside. Hmm. This could prove interesting, I thought and stopped Jason from stepping around me to leave the bathhouse. I put my finger to my lips, indicating I wanted him to be quiet, and then whispered, "Nora and Marsha... on the patio. Let's wait and see what happens."

Jason's boyish grin let me know he was game for a little intrigue. We'd both returned to the safe house, me with Ed and Jason with Susan, and Ed and Susan had shuffled off to their rooms for some private time, and not with each other. Jerome was out somewhere with Dad, Sara and Donna, so neither Nora nor Marsha knew Jason and I were back. The two ladies probably believed they were alone in the big house.

"May I join you?" Marsha asked Nora.

Jason and I were close enough to hear Marsha's voice. Good. He'd find the interchange more interesting; that is, if anything of interest took place, which was not only possible but also likely considering the thoughts I'd heard coming from the minds of both women during the last few days.

"Of course," Nora replied.

Look at that body! Marsha thought as she stretched out on the chaise lounge next to Nora. Sleek, with defined muscles, like a panther, but still extremely feminine. I'd love to run my hands over her smooth skin. Would she let me apply sunscreen so I could touch her?

"Are you upset with me?" Marsha asked.

"No... yes... I don't know."

"I'm not in love with him; I won't steal him away from you."

"Hah! You've fucked him; he hasn't even kissed me. What I don't have; you can't steal from me."

"Don't fool yourself; you have him, at least his heart."

I felt Nora turn on the chaise lounge and face Marsha. "Get outta here!"

"I assume that's an expression of disbelief, and you don't really want me to get up and leave."

Nora huffed a laugh. "Your assumption is accurate. What makes you think I have him? What did he tell you?"

"We haven't discussed you, not in terms of love or sex. He has expressed how greatly he admires you as a partner. I could be wrong, but I believe that's one reason he hasn't hit you over the head with a club and dragged you off to his cave, the other being your recent encounter with a bullet. I think he fears making love with you could aggravate your wound. You saw your doctor this morning. Did you ask him if you were well enough to fuck?"