Chapter 303

An hour after supper, Kathy and Jill stood just outside Matt, Courtney and Bridget's suite. Kathy glanced at her sister-wife for a second, then knocked. Courtney opened the door, greeted them, and ushered them inside. After Kathy and Jill had taken seats on one of the couches with Courtney and Bridget sitting nearby, Kathy asked where Matt was.

"He said he was going to the gym for a workout," Courtney responded. "Do you need me to call him?"

Kathy was shaking her head. "No, we need to talk to the two of you first."

"First? Big secret?" Courtney asked with a smile.

"Uhmmm, might be a little bit of one," Jill responded with an unfathomable look on her face.

Courtney glanced at Bridget who smiled back. "Okay, you have our attention. So, what's going on?"

Kathy handed Courtney the picture Hope had just drawn of Eileen. "Hope drew this from my memory of a woman Bill and I briefly met in Saint Louis."

Bridget leaned over to get closer as she and Courtney checked out the picture.

"Wow, she has a beautiful face," Bridget offered.

"She had on a rather unflattering uniform, but even so, it was still obvious that she has a nice figure to go with her pretty face."

Courtney looked up. "What's her name?"

Kathy let out a soft sigh. "Eileen is all I remember. I'm not even sure she told us her last name. And ... that's only one of our problems."

"You want to find her," Courtney said, more statement than question, having put things together almost instantly.

"Yep."

"But why?" Bridget wondered.

"Well ... because I, uh... we," she responded, her eyes glancing at her sister-wife for an instant, "think our husband needs another wife, and Eileen was obviously interested in him when we saw her in Saint Louis."

Kathy quickly outlined what had happened, and told them about wanting to get Matt to try to find out who the woman was by using the FBI's facial recognition system.

"Do you think he'll do it?" Jill worriedly asked.

Courtney shrugged. "It would be using the agency's program for personal use, but then again, I strongly suspect nothing would be said for such a small infraction, particularly with my husband doing it. Like you say, who's going to check on the Denver SAC, particularly about something like this? For that matter, he could simply be demonstrating the program, or checking it out. We can ask him and see what he says." Courtney thought for a moment, then continued with, "Maybe it would be better if you left the picture with us. We'll ask him as soon as he gets back. But if he says no..."

"Then we'll go whine to the General and see if he will do it for us," Kathy responded.

As they stood, Jill reached out to touch Courtney and Bridget. "Thanks, Sisters. We really appreciate it."

As the two walked toward the door, Kathy turned back for a second. "Uh, could you call us..."

" ... As soon as we know something," Courtney responded.

As the two were on the way back to their suite, Kathy put her arm around her sister-wife. "I would like for this to be a total surprise for our husband."

"Yeah, me too," Jill responded, "But remember, he's a sharp guy," she warned. "He'll probably know something is up as soon as he sees us. I've always had problems with keeping much of anything from him, and with what happened with Ingles ... well, I feel guilty about trying to keep anything from Bill..."

Kathy stopped to grab Jill by the arm. "Stop that. Nothing our husband does has a damn thing to do with Ingles. Chances are that you are the only one who even thinks about that bastard anymore. And if Bill should somehow figure out that we're keeping something from him, most likely he'll think our little secret is just a special Christmas present. But ... your worry does have credence in another way. If we're to keep Eileen as a surprise, we're going to have to do some planning, assuming ... that she isn't married, and we can talk her into coming for a visit. I did treat her like shit."

As they turned to walk on, Kathy continued, "But ... in case someone mentions seeing us go into Hope's studio with her, maybe we should do something to distract him."

"No need to do that; Christmas is coming. Besides, a man would just think it was woman stuff, anyway.

"But just to be sure," Jill asked with a grin.

"Distract him."

"How? Remember, he and I have been married for a long time. Granted, you're new to him as a wife, but still we've done most everything three people can do together without getting gross about it. I don't think I could ever get into golden showers or things like that. So how are we going to distract him?"

"Eewwe," Kathy exclaimed. "I don't want to even think about that kind of sex – if that's sex at all. But I think we need to let him catch us 'planning' something to distract him before he suspects."

"So, what are we 'planning?'"

After thinking for a second, Kathy responded, "Well, we could make him promise to not use his pheromones until we ask for them, then maybe bring him to the brink over and over before we let him come. We could use that for a basis and expand on the idea a little. We can work out the details when we get back to the suite. If we focus on that, maybe he won't notice that we're planning something else."

"And if Matt finds out her name, how are we going to get in touch with her without Bill finding out?"

"We'll think of something," Kathy assured her. Then almost bubbling with excitement, Kathy grabbed her sister-wife's hand. "We're going to do this. Our husband is going to be surprised."

"I just hope she's not a bitch," Jill worried.

While in the kitchen several weeks prior, Joyce had overheard Jeff and his accountant discussing charitable contributions. She had immediately thought of new vehicles for the Sheriff's Department. Knowing that her husband was adamantly against giving to large charities, since, in his opinion, far too much of the donated money went to "overhead," she stood listening as the two men continued their discussion.

"Why should we give to a supposed charity when at least one of them has admitted that ninety percent of the donations they receive go to perpetuate the charity itself?" Jeff argued, "I want our money to go directly to the individual person or group, whatever, and cut out the graft. It pisses me off to see charitable organization executives driving company-owned BMW's, Mercedes or other expensive vehicles. And... you see on the news about some of them having 'meetings' in Las Vegas that costs hundreds of thousands of donation dollars. Oh, I know they don't all do that, but still, why can't we donate our money straight to the individual or organization that needs and uses the money?"

"We are doing that, Mr. Matthews," the accountant advised, "but just as I said, and to put it more directly, you need more charitable deductions or a lot of your money is going to go to the federal government come tax time. And that doesn't include what the State will get."

Joyce got a cup of coffee and sat at the table with the two men. "So, buy us a fleet of new patrol vehicles, and I'm sure our detective division could stand a couple vehicles, too."

The accountant sat up, alert. "That would help a lot, young lady."

Turning to her husband, "You've given the department training ammunition and vests in the past, but still, the training ammunition we have is rationed to a hundred rounds per month per deputy. The pistol team needs a lot more than that if they're to win any of their matches, and the SWAT team needs at least as much, if not more, in addition to different types of rounds as well. I also heard one of the SWAT guys lusting over a rifle that Steyr makes. As far as that's concerned, most of what SWAT has are hand-me-downs from the Feds. No telling what the team actually needs."

Jeff sat thinking for a minute, the accountant quiet, almost holding his breath. Then with a grin, the Prime turned back to Joyce, "For now, let's go with the patrol fleet vehicles, the detective vehicles, a good supply of ammo and a selection of Steyr's best weapons in reference to SWAT. I need to talk with Quinton and the SWAT commander to find out what else they need, as well as whatever patrol might need, but a few quality, fully automatic rifles won't hurt in the meantime."

The accountant looked as if he were going to have an orgasm.

Now that the vehicles and other equipment had arrived, Joyce wanted to thank her husband in some way, but how did you buy for a man who had everything? Besides, what few ideas she had come up with were already used up on Christmas presents for him. But she and his other wives had been practicing and had been waiting for the right time. Maybe, that time was now. She went looking for Diana.

Joyce had drafted Art and Dave into keeping Jeff busy for a while, and the range was an easy option. "Don't you dare let him come back up here for at least an hour," Joyce admonished the two men.

"He'll know something is up," Dave predicted.

"Doesn't matter," she responded. "Just keep him down there."

"Yes, Ma'am," both men agreed, knowing better than to argue with an Alpha's wife on a mission.

They found Jeff in the game room running the pool table. It was usually difficult for him to find a partner. If he wished, he could always run the table, his opponent never getting a chance if Jeff broke. When he lost, everyone knew it was deliberate, so there was no fun in playing him.

"Let's go bust a cap or two," Dave tried to say casually.

Jeff looked up from what would be a difficult shot for most anyone else, "Nah. I'm not in the mood. You two go on."

As Jeff made the shot – of course – Art and Dave, frustrated, exchanged looks. "Oh, come on Jeff, you can play stack the bullets in the target or something while Art and I actually practice a little."

Jeff continued with lining up his next shot, but he had heard the hint of tension in Dave's voice. Curious, he delayed, taking his time. Dave and Art again exchanged a glance as the ball drifted into the side pocket and the cue ball returned from the cushion to roll to a stop perfectly positioned for Jeff's next shot.

"Come on Jeff; this has to be boring. Everybody knows you can do that all day."

The Prime refused to look at them, seeming to ponder his next shot, but actually just teasing the other two. Frustrated, the men walked over, got soft drinks and found seats, expecting to have to wait him out.

As soon as they had seated themselves, just to screw with them, Jeff put his stick up and said, "Okay, I'm done. Let's go shoot some."

He knows, Dave thought. I knew he would, but what the hell did we do to let him know?

A few moments later, they had just stepped into the basement and turned toward the range, Art and Dave in the lead, when Jeff casually asked, "Who put you up to this?"

"Shit," Art muttered under his breath, remembering what Dave had predicted.

Dave, knowing Jeff a lot better than Art, was expecting Jeff's question and just sighed. "It doesn't matter. Let's just go shoot some."

"And if I don't want to..."

"Then our asses will be in trouble," Dave groused out.

"Well, why didn't you say so to start with. Let's go shoot for..."

" ... about an hour," Dave supplied.

" ... about an hour," Jeff agreed with a chuckle.

When the hour was up, the three cleaned their weapons and returned to the first floor. Dave and Art turned toward their own areas, Dave calling over his shoulder to Jeff, "Lots of luck, Partner."

Jeff hadn't bothered to ask, knowing the men either wouldn't tell him, or didn't know.

When he got to the living room, there was a note on the door.

Go take a shower, and be back in fifteen minutes.