Chapter 19

As Jeff and Helen walked down the hall toward the kitchen, Jeff tightened his arm around her. "Stop worrying pretty lady. They may tease the heck out of us, but they won't mean any harm..."

She glanced up at him and tightened her arm around his waist. "Oh, I know, but I'm sure they know what we did in the shower, because we were gone so long. I just meant to give you a quick... blow job. I didn't mean for you to make love to me again. I'm not really concerned, but you can bet that I will blush when we walk through that door. Jeff, I didn't expect you to do anything for me this morning; you knew I was on my period. I..."

Laughing, Jeff stopped them and looked over at her, "Baby, you just had a shower. All I did was kiss you clit and pussy. That's what tampons are for," he teased.

She grinned up at him in spite of herself. "Well, I really thought their purpose was a little different, but... Oh, it's just... well, my husband used to be grossed out and... I didn't expect you to do that. When you picked me up and I tried to stop you, I became very excited, just like the other night when you picked me up out of my living room. I had so many orgasms that I know it shows on my face, and we were gone a long time..."

Jeff spun her around. Kissing her, then gently stroking her face with the back of his hand, he continued, "Don't worry about what anyone thinks. My wives will be glad of it — are glad of it, because you can bet that they knew exactly what we were doing, while we were doing it. And you're right. Everyone else probably figured out what was going on after we didn't come back in a reasonable time. But you know that my wives will be tickled about it.

"And, I'll bet that after breakfast Margaret drags Franks off, and I wouldn't be surprised if Evie and Dave disappear for a while, either, if they haven't already. You can't seem to realize that you're a beautiful and very sexy woman. You can bet that the guys were thinking how lucky I was. Evie, Dave, Margaret and Frank are all nice people. They don't think anything bad about you. And... by the way," he said, gently tweaking her nose, "I love you.

"Now let's go get that aborted breakfast, then figure out what we're going to do today, since it was, and I assume still is, raining cats and dogs." Before she could answer, he grabbed her hand, and pulling her, took off at a run for the kitchen. When they burst through the door, laughing, Margaret, Diana and Laura had just finished with all the cleanup that they could and still have everything prepped to make Jeff and Helen's breakfast.

Before Helen could say anything, the women gathered around her, each hugging and kissing her. "You looked sexy," Margaret said. "Evie and Dave had urgent business in their apartment as soon as breakfast was over. And if I hadn't taken pity on Frank — since he's already done his duty this morning — we would have had some of that same business to take care of," she laughed.

"Okay," Diana said, glancing at her husband. "It looks like our man is trying to tell us that he's hungry. I guess we had better feed him, and we might have saved a little for you too," Helen, Diana teased.

A little later, Jeff, Dave and Wainwright sat in the living room discussing the projects as the rain beat against the glass wall. One hard gust slammed rain into the window with enough force to be heard even through the thick glass. As they all glanced at the window, Jeff said, "By the way, I've been meaning to ask you how you managed to get that huge piece of glass up this mountain. That thing is too big to call a picture window. 'Window' just doesn't seem to describe it. I just call it the glass wall."

Wainwright downed the last of his coffee. "I'm embarrassed to say how much that glass cost me, not to say anything about getting it here, or the installation cost. I had it flown from the factory straight to the retreat. Then the real fun started — getting it installed. I was so uptight that I finally decided to just leave. Well, actually," he said a little sheepishly, "Margaret suggested that I get out of everyone's way. When Dave here called to say the glass was in, I was just sure he was going to say that they had broken it, but they didn't even put a scratch on it," he grinned, glancing at Dave.

"I didn't do much. I hired a special crew for the installation. I don't know how much the glass itself cost, but that crew certainly wasn't cheap."

"Whatever the cost, it certainly went a long way toward making a beautiful living room. And with all the color in the trees now, it makes for a wonderful view to go along with the room," he smiled.

Wainwright looked at Jeff. "I called the hotel and told the installation crew to take the day off. They can't do anything in this weather, other than some inside work," he said, nodding at the rain.

Dave refreshed his coffee, then when Frank and Jeff held their cups out, refilled theirs as well. "At least the outside range is done, just in time. Evie had already moved all the materials into the basement for the classrooms, so there isn't any problem with the rain as far as that goes. The falls and ventilation system for the indoor range are supposed to be here Friday, and we should be ready for their tech to come out Monday to help us with their part of the installation.

"And if it's all right with you two," Dave continued, "I think I'll go with the engineering firm we used for this place. He claims to have a team that is capable of doing what we want." Looking at Wainwright, he said, "I flew up to Saint Louis to talk to the guy that you recommended, Frank, or the one that someone recommended to you. Anyway, I had set up a meeting with him after telling him generally what I needed. When I got there, on time, he kept me waiting for thirty minutes. His secretary said he was in a meeting. Then when I did get to talk to someone, it was a subordinate who said he would have to check with Coston, almost every time I asked a question. When I insisted on talking with Coston, this guy kept telling me Coston was in a meeting.

"I finally just walked out, only to find Coston with his feet propped up on a desk talking to a gorgeous blond while she sat at her computer. It didn't look like a conference to me; it looked like a makeout session. He didn't even have the courtesy to acknowledge my presence. The only reason I knew it was him, is that his secretary pointed him out to me. I don't think she's very impressed with her boss."

Wainwright frowned. "I should have known better. That recommendation just didn't feel right. I'm sorry I caused you a trip for nothing. Timbrook and I are going to have a talk when I get back. I was suspicious of a brother-in-law deal when he first mentioned this firm. But what about the flight? I didn't even know you were gone. I did miss you for a couple of meals, though. Did you use my plane?"

Dave took a sip of coffee, wondering where Wainwright was going with the question. "No. I booked a commercial. Round trip. Up one day, back the next afternoon."

"Damn. You should have used the company plane. It would have been a lot more pleasant. From now on, if you need to go anywhere in relation to this project, just have Jeff call the pilot. Fuck, with the money Jeff is putting into this, you might as well go in style. Plus, you wouldn't have had to wait for the next day. The plane would have flown you straight back after the meeting, if you had wanted to come back the same day."

Dave glanced at Jeff, who just raised an eyebrow. "Well, anyway, I've got Fierson and his people coming out tomorrow to do a preliminary feasibility study — that's what he called it — then they're to get back with me within a week.

"They sure didn't treat me like the other outfit. I got there five minutes before the meeting was scheduled to start. His secretary ushered me into a conference room where Fierson and two of his top people were waiting for me. I had a cup of coffee in my hand, refreshments in front of me, and they were making copies of Jeff's sketch and requirements by the time the meeting was supposed to have started.

"I guess I was still pissed, and mentioned how I had been treated in Saint Louis. Fierson named the company, instantly, and said that rumor had it there were two lawsuits pending against them."

"Oh, shit," Frank said, under his breath, a frown deepening his brow.

Jeff, seeing the frown, spoke up. "Frank, you told us you didn't know anything about the outfit, that it was just a recommendation from one of your suppliers. Don't sweat it."

"Yes," Wainwright quietly said, "but... I buy a lot from that supplier, and playing me for a fool wasn't a wise thing to do," he said, his face serious.

"Remember now," Dave broke in. "All I know about them is that I got the runaround instead of the meeting we had scheduled. They may be a reliable company for all I know, but then again, I seriously doubt it."

Jeff cleared his throat, "Better that we found out beforehand, rather than halfway through the job. Don't either one of you sweat it. We lost a couple days of Dave's time..."

Before they had a chance to continue, Diana and Laura walked in. Both went over to Jeff and lightly kissed him. "We've got to go into Denver and pick up Helen's dress this morning, Husband. I know you said that you didn't want us to go anywhere without you because of Hagewood..."

"No. I'll go with you. We can't let our guard down. Not until he turns up and the cops get him back into jail. But does the trip have to be today?"

Diana and Laura looked at each other, then in unison said, "Yes, Dear. You've got to make an honest woman out of Helen." Then they both cracked up.

"We'll be ready in forty-five minutes," Diana said over her shoulder as they left the room, shoulders back, hips swaying.

Wainwright was laughing. "They had that rehearsed well. They were perfectly in sync."

"Don't bet on it being rehearsed," Dave said, laughing himself. "They do that all the time."

"What drives me nuts," Jeff sighed, "is when one says half a sentence, and another one completes it — without a break or hesitation. Sometimes they go around the table doing it, just to rattle my cage. It sets my teeth on edge. And if I make any comment about it — they just do it again."

Frank grinned, not really believing Jeff, instead he asked as they stood, "Where do you get all those expressions?"

"Well, I found this place on the internet..."

"Bull shit," Dave laughed. "It's the redneck in him, according to Diana."

"Yeah, but I'm proud of it," Jeff said, slapping Dave on the back as they left the living room going their separate ways, all laughing.

As Wainwright entered their suite, Margaret was changing. "See something you like?" she teased as she stepped into her panties.

Frank walked over, grabbed her around the waist, hugged her to him, and soundly kissed her. Feeling the bulge against her belly, she pushed back so she could look him in the face. "We've had more sex since we've been here than we've had in the last several months. Being here with these people beats a vacation in Hawaii any day," she laughed.

Frank grinned at her, gently tweaking a nipple. "Well, the combination of excellent company, that healer of Jeff's, plus Laura's shakes, have stirred this old boy up." Checking out her breasts, he continued, "Not to mention that fantastic body of yours. Your breasts are beautiful. And that ass of yours," he said popping her with his palm, "is as tight as a drum."

Margaret squeaked and jumped away from him. Picking up her bra, she slipped into it, then turned her back for him to fasten the catch. "Diana printed out an instruction sheet for a variation of some Kegel exercises, plus a little secret that goes with it, that she says will allow me to strengthen my pussy muscles until you will think I'm a virgin. You had better behave if you want me to try them."

Frank wisely didn't say anything about the exercises, knowing he had better skirt that minefield. Instead, he said, "I assume you're going shopping with Diana and the others?"

Margaret grinned at him as she sat on the bed to pull her hose on, knowing he had failed to respond to the Kegel comment. "Yeah. Even Evie is going. I need a dress for the wedding, and so does Evie. The suit you brought should be just fine, but I think you should go with us, as well. Dave is going to stay in case either of his foremen need him, since Evie won't be here. He said he had some paperwork to do. But I think you should go to keep Jeff company, if nothing else."

"I guess I can do that..."

"Put on one of your new western outfits. Those boots turn me on."

Laughing, Frank slipped off his shoes and shirt, then dropped his pants. Unexpectedly, Margaret knelt in front of him. Expertly fishing his cock out of his shorts, she sucked him hard, hollowing her cheeks and looking up at him.

"Ummm, Baby that feels wonderful, but everybody is going to be waiting on us. And you know that as old as I am, I can't get my rocks off very fast. I uhmmm... Oh, shit, Honey that feels good..."

A couple of minutes later, Margaret made a liar out of him when his cock spurted into her mouth. Laughing, and trying to swallow at the same time, she finished, then kissed the head of his deflating cock before standing. "What was that about being too old to get your rocks off quickly?" she teased as a wobbly-kneed Wainwright sat down hard on the bed.

Getting his breath back, and after kissing and hugging her, Frank took some of his new western clothes out of the closet. Pulling his shirt on, looking at her in the mirror as she repaired her lipstick, he commented, "If Jeff figures out how to make a few thousand of those healers, we're all going to be rich."

Margaret laughed, tossing the lipstick into her small purse. "Be rich. Hell, Frank, you're rich enough now to wallpaper this whole place in hundred dollar bills. Screw selling the healer. I would just like to have one of my own. I'm looking younger than I have in ten years, and my breasts have lost almost all their sag. And something has — what's the expression — put lead in your pecker. Yes, that's what my grandmother used to say," she finished as Frank pulled on a pair of western jeans. "Here, better put these heavier socks on with those new boots," she said, tossing a new pair onto the bed. "And wear your new hat."

"Ah, Margaret, I bought that thing because you wanted me to. I don't wear hats, let alone a western one."

"Put that Stetson on," she teased pinching his ass. "I like the way it looks on you."

A few minutes later, they met Jeff and the others in the hallway. "Where in the heck did you get that thing?" Jeff teased, indicating Frank's hat.

"At the same place you did," Frank laughed, glancing at an almost identical hat on Jeff's head. "Somehow, I don't think our wearing these hats was just a spur-of-the-moment thing."

"Now you know how I feel," Jeff grinned as they all got umbrellas and the group went out the back. "At least they let us think we're in charge some of the time."

"Oh, listen to the man whine," Laura laughed as they dashed for the vehicles. "Six women aren't enough for him."

"Yeah, but we're going to fix that for him Friday night," Diana yelled as she yanked her door open, fighting to keep her umbrella from turning wrong-side-out as a gust of wind caught it.

"If he doesn't kill me in the process," Helen chimed in, although her face was red.

Laughing at the teasing, Jeff called to Frank, "Come on, you can ride with me," he said, heading for the truck. After hitting the remote, he and Frank got in, then shook the water from their umbrellas out the open doors. Shortly Arlene, Jennie and Melissa, did the same thing as they scrambled into the back seat, slamming the doors against the deluge of wind-driven rain.

"I thought you would take the Expedition, or the other Escalade," Frank commented as they checked to see that the rest of the women were in the other vehicle.

"Oh, I would have," Jeff said, backing out and turning around, then waiting for the women's vehicle to begin moving before he started around the drive heading for the switchbacks. "I need to pick up the ammo I ordered, and the rest of the Glocks. I think it would be okay to drop the women off at the store, then go to the gun shop while they're getting their dresses. I want to keep a sharp eye out for anyone following us, though, and if you'll help with that, I would appreciate it."

Wainwright glanced back at the Escalade, then said, "It looks like the cops could catch this guy, if he's such a badass."

Jeff, thinking that the colonel's people hadn't found Hagewood, either, answered, "I wondered about that myself, but then again, the cops probably have a lot more to do than spend much time looking for a person who's only threatening someone. Although he did kill two guys in a bar fight, he got by on a technicality and a good lawyer. But, despite that, I'm feeling more and more that someone high up is protecting him, for some reason. And don't forget the signature bond when it wasn't authorized. From what the sergeant said, this guy is notorious for vendettas — and that he won't forget, and will 'get even.'"

Frank didn't say anything for a moment, glancing around at the clouds and rain. "This stuff will be coming down in another month or so — but it will be white then. You should probably start thinking about preparing for that. Just saying that you can get two or three hundred inches of snow in a season doesn't tell the whole story. I had the conference center built with the first floor well above ground level, even in the back, for a reason other that having the windows out of the reach of bears. Snow really piles up. Even with the extra height, there were times when we had trouble opening the back door, the drifts were so high. With the wind blowing like it is today, you can have whiteout conditions that make it virtually impossible to drive even with this truck and the snowplow. You've got to be able to see to drive, and when the wind starts blowing the dry snow around, you can't see a thing."

"I've heard of whiteouts," Jeff said as they pulled out onto the county road, "but I confess, I never thought about them here. Shit, Frank. We need to talk about this. My Georgia background could get my family killed because I don't know enough about this area. Oh, I've had a few trips to Chicago and New York when there was snow, even driven in it a good many times, but that doesn't compare to what you're describing."

"Ah, chances are you would notice at the house and figure it out before you went anywhere and got caught out in it. The edge of the driveway is already lined with markers that are ten feet tall, tipped with reflectors, as you obviously know. After the first winter, I doubled the number of markers. I have some other ideas about the driveway that might appeal to you. But I was mainly referring to getting caught on the county or even the state road during one of the whiteouts.

"You need to be prepared to survive if you should get stranded — clothing — warm clothing — parkas that reach below you knees, snowmobile outfits, food, etc. Most people who die while stranded could have been saved if they had only prepared properly. We had a couple of near misses when people were coming up here during the winter. The place is, indeed, beautiful, and for the ones of us that used it regularly, it was fine. But when I started bringing people up here that weren't familiar with the area — well, let's just say that I was lucky.

"I had already intended to come down and have a talk with you before I got all excited about your run-in with the bear and you not being able to come to the phone. I wasn't going to just leave you on this mountain without telling you some of the things that could happen," he finished, glancing back at the women's vehicle, again.

Jeff, looking thoughtful, didn't say anything, just followed the winding county road on down the mountain.

The flight office of Wainwright, Inc. was located at the airport, fifteen miles from the company. Buried behind the airport corporate offices, it consisted of one fairly large room, three closets, and one unisex bathroom. The office was well appointed with three nice desks (the corner desk larger than the others), a computer on each desk, chairs and filing cabinets, and unusual for most offices, three leather recliners. A large picture of an F-14 Tomcat, vapor streaming from its wingtips as it pulled high g's, adorned the wall behind Captain Madison's corner desk.

A break area in one corner contained a refrigerator, sink, cabinets, microwave and a coffee maker. In short, the office was designed to be functional as well as containing everything that a flight crew might generally need as they waited for their next flight.

Captain Madison sat back, relaxed, his feet on his desk. Hanging up the phone, he looked at copilot David Oakland, and flight attendant Kathy Arnold as they sat at their desks. "Okay, that was Ray Tingle. He's in charge while Mr. Wainwright is on vacation. He says he doesn't think they will need the plane before Tuesday or Wednesday of next week, unless something unexpected comes up. So we can stand down, but... we're still on call. As usual, make sure you have your company cell with you, and you can be here within an hour, if need be."

Oakland spun his chair around to directly face Madison. "This is bullshit. This 'stand down' crap. We're either working, or we're not. No matter what I do, I've got to stay within an hour of this place. Why can't they just say that we're off until Tuesday, or whenever?"

Kathy started shutting down her computer. Glancing at Oakland, she said, "Hey, we're getting paid, anyway. What's the big deal? And we do this a lot. Why're you getting upset now? Last week we made two trips to Hawaii, and what — five — practically all over the continental U.S. If I remember correctly," she said, teasing, "you were griping about never having any time off..."

"Well, you may not mind kissing the big shot's ass, but I do," he snarled.

"Mr. Oakland," Captain Madison said with great emphasis. Then turning to Kathy, he continued, "Kathy, would you please..."

"Sure," she said, standing and picking up her purse. "I need to run by the mall and pick up some things. If you need me, I'll have my cell with me," she finished, unnecessarily, just to get a dig in at Oakland.

Smiling pleasantly, she walked out the door. As soon as it clicked shut behind her, her expression changed. Why does Bill put up with David's mouth? He's never satisfied, and this is the best job he's ever had, or is likely to ever have. He was fine for a while, but for the last year or so, all he ever seems to do is gripe, she thought as she made her way out of the office complex and headed for her car.

I wish Bill had let me stay. If that look on his face was any indication, Mr. Copilot is getting his ass chewed about now. I could have done better than he did on that last landing. He keeps talking about "flying with the big boys." I wish he would. I'm tired of his attitude. Oh, well, I need to get him off my mind before he sours my attitude.

Penney's has a sale today. Maybe I'll luck out and they will have some shoes I like. If not, I guess I'll give up and check out Goodwill. Damn, I'm tired of being broke.

Later she had finished with Penney's — unsuccessfully — and had sat down in the food court with a snack and a fountain drink. "Hello stranger," a familiar voice said from behind her.

Brannon McEntire stepped up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "You're looking sharp today, Kathy. Aren't you flying anymore?" he asked, leaning against her table looking down at her.

"We're on standby for a few days, so I thought I would do a little shopping," she answered, looking up at his tall, good-looking frame. His suit probably cost more than my whole wardrobe. And he's as arrogant as ever, but damn, he's sexy — and, he knows it.

Without being invited, he pulled a chair out and sat down next to her, his knee slightly touching hers. "When are you going out with me again, Kathy? It's been, what... at least six months?" he said, turning on his million-dollar smile. "We had a good time when we went out those, umm, two times, wasn't it? We should do it again. What about it?"

Kathy looked up at him as he put his hand over hers on the table. "Yeah, it's a great day, and I'm fine," she sarcastically said. "No use in wasting time on the pleasantries," she answered, only half joking.

"What's the matter, Kathy? Are you having a bad day? You know I'm direct. It never seemed to bother you before," he said leaning back in the chair, but maintaining contact with his hand still over hers.

Kathy sighed, "Brannon, I can't make up my mind if I like you or not. One minute you're sweet, but the next, you act like a pompous ass."

"Sorry, Kathy. I didn't mean to come across like that. I was just glad to see you. I tried calling you, but your number had been changed to an unlisted one. What gives with that, by the way?"

"Oh, nothing really. I just had someone who kept calling, and rather than get the cops involved, I just changed my number."

"Well, how about it? Want to pick up where we left off? How about dinner tonight? How does Mitchell's sound to you?"

Kathy looked at him and thought: You don't want to carry me out to eat. You want to get in my pants. And you know the effect you have on women, me included. You're an arrogant bastard, but you're a sexy, arrogant bastard. You almost got me last time. Crap, I've waited for Bill long enough. I need a man to make love to me. Well, I doubt that you would be into making love to anyone, but I'll bet you would be into fucking my brains out. Bill is married, and he doesn't stray. I don't think I would really want him to do that, anyway. Why did I have to fall in love with a married man?

Almost before she realized it, she heard herself say, "I guess you've talked me into it. Mitchell's sounds fine. Pick me up at seven. I'm living at a different place," she finished, writing her address down for him. "You can go slumming with a poor girl tonight," she said, smiling as she stood to pick up her trash. "See you then."

I can be just as abrupt as you can, she thought, walking away without a backward glance. Why did I make a date with him? He thinks he's a ladie's man. Well, maybe I'll let him prove it. I think I still have a couple of condoms — no they're old and might break. I'll stop and buy some. I'm sure not going to let him inside me without protection. But I'm horny, and that bulge in his pants looks like it's big enough to scratch my itch.

Don't think about it girl; just do it. Mooning over Bill forever will accomplish nothing. You haven't had a man since your so-called groom-to-be called it off just before college graduation, and ran back to California. All he was looking for was steady pussy, and yours filled the bill just fine, especially when he proposed to you. You couldn't spread your legs fast enough, just like he planned. At least I know what Brannon wants. Dreaming about being in Bill's arms is just that — a dream. Let Brannon stuff that big dick up your pussy, girl, and get Captain Bill Madison off your mind.

She hadn't realized that she had tears in her eyes until she had trouble getting the key in the door lock of her car.

Later, at the dress shop entrance, Jeff and Frank stood talking with Diana and Laura while the rest of the women went on inside. Diana kissed her husband on the cheek. " We'll be a while. We called Denice with Helen's measurements, but there are bound to be some alterations necessary. We want everything to be perfect."

"Baby, be careful. Don't leave the building until we get back. I can't get this guy off my mind..."

Diana squeezed his arm and grinned. "If he shows up, I'll just shoot the bastard and start screaming 'rape.' By the time the cops get here, I'll be an hysterical woman defending herself. With his record, it will fly. So stop worrying and go get your ammunition, or whatever. We won't leave until you get back. I promise."

Jeff gave each of them a quick kiss on the lips, then he and Frank left.

As Jeff pulled away from the curb, Frank said, "You're really uptight about this guy..."

"I know, Frank. And I know that I'm being paranoid — but I can't get him off my fucking mind."

After a few minutes of silence, Frank quietly asked, "Do you think Diana would really shoot him?"

Jeff glanced over at Frank for a second, "Only until he stopped twitching," he said, his voice expressionless. "Hagewood Jr. tried to abduct her daughter, and then Hagewood Sr. tried to kill me. At least in her mind. And when the sergeant told us about him killing two guys in a bar by hitting them with that ham-hock fist of his, she was convinced." After a moment, he continued, "Sometimes I wish I hadn't pulled the blow when I hit him. I might have been in jail, but I wouldn't have to worry about some nut coming after my family."