Chapter 13

Ann returned to San Diego on Tuesday. She decided for Dave's sake she had to get the other copies of those pictures at all costs. Perhaps, she could make them understand--she was certain she could, if she could just talk to Julia. She would explain about Dave and how he was and what their plans were for the future. She just knew she could make Julia understand.

She had tried to reach her by phone all Tuesday night and Wednesday but she was absent from the store and there no answer at her apartment. Late Wednesday afternoon, in desperation, she had gone over to her apartment, but Julia was nowhere to be found.

Ann was beginning to panic. It was seven-thirty and she still hadn't contacted Julia. She would have to go to Max's house. She dreaded this more than anything in the world but she just had to be there. She knew they wouldn't hesitate to send the photographs to Dave if she didn't.

She poured herself a glass of scotch and drank it down after she stepped from the shower. Then, the phone rang. Julia's voice was on the other end.

"I'm glad you came back, dear. Max would have been most unhappy if you hadn't."

"Julia, I've got to talk to you," Ann pleaded. "You don't understand my position.

"It's too late now, dear, but remember this, you had better be real good to Max. He has the photographs and he might give them to you if you please him--and don't be late, he won't like it."

"But Julia..." Ann cried almost desperately.

"Another thing," Julia interrupted, "Max likes brief, black underthings. Wear those new ones you've been saving for Dave."

With that Julia hung up.

Ann was shaking violently after talking to Julia. Now she was desperate to get the pictures back. She drank another shot of Scotch to give her courage; put on the panties and bra Julia suggested. They were sheer and she wanted to wear them the night of Dave's homecoming--but now it would not be possible. Over these, she put on a thin clinging white silk cocktail dress that accentuated the tan she had been cultivating at the lake these past two weeks.

She took a last look at herself in the mirror and a last shot of Scotch. The sun had bleached her hair a more golden color then it had been in months and it contrasted beautifully with the healthy bronze of her skin.

She wanted to be as alluring as possible in hope she could convince Mr. Schroeder to give her the pictures without compromising herself too much. Julia's words haunted her all the way to his house, "If you please him enough, if you please him enough."

Ann's taxi stopped at a beautiful spacious home built in Spanish style and reminded Ann disconcertingly of Mexico. It was quiet and there were no other cars around. She had a momentary sense of panic and wanted to tell the driver to take her back to the city but her desire to recover the pictures overcame it.

She gathered her courage and rang the bell. A white-uniformed butler answered and led her into the large sunken living room. Ann's breath was taken away for a moment; almost half the room was occupied by a large emerald-green swimming pool that extended into it from the patio. A waterfall cascaded down one rock wall and bubbled into the pool. This, coupled with the magnificent tropical plants about the room, gave it the appearance of an island paradise.

"Mr. Schroeder will be down shortly," the butler announced. "Shall I serve Madam a martini?"

"Yes, please," Ann answered. She wanted something that might still the nervous trembling of her body. She had expected others to be here, particularly Julia, and she didn't know what to do to face Max alone. Her carefully-planned speeches to Julia were useless.

She gulped at the large martini the butler brought her, hoping it might infuse new ideas and confidence into her to replace that destroyed by the sudden change of circumstances.

She had almost finished when heavy nasal breathing came from behind her. She almost jumped from the couch in surprise, but alcohol had slowed her reactions enough that she couldn't get up before he spoke.

"Well, my dear, you've finally come," he said mockingly. "I've waited a long time for you to accept one of my invitations."

"I--I just came to get those pictures, Mr. Schroeder," Ann blurted, trembling.

He walked slowly around to sit down by her, leering at her ripe young, body as he did--lips quivering in anticipation.

"Of course, my dear Ann--you don't mind my calling you Ann, do you?"

"No, no I don't," she said quickly, afraid.

"Then you call me Max," he said not taking his eyes from her body. "I think we shall get along well."

"Sidney!" he called to the butler. "Another martini for Mrs. Morrow and a soda and ice for me. I don't drink; ulcers you know, from the pressures of business."

The butler appeared immediately with the drinks and Ann took hers quickly. The first one, on top of the Scotch she had at home, had begun to dull her senses slightly, but she welcomed that. She could see already from the way Max's eyes roved over her hungrily it would not be easy to accomplish her purpose. She was going to need all the courage she could muster, from a bottle or not.

"Now, Ann, let's talk business," Max said softly. "I've got something you want--and you've got something I want. I think we should make a straight business trade."

"Mr. Schroeder," Ann said, the drinks giving her courage a slight lift, "you don't understand. Julia said I just had to come here to get the pictures, and that's all I want."