Chapter 1: A Flash in the Night

Special thanks to my Proof Readers, George Davis and others.

It just doesn't pay to be successful, everyone in the room wants to shake my hand and congratulate me. My revelations over the past eighteen months have shaken the economic and political fronts in Bayfield. One investigation uncovered a fraud that cost one of our major advertisers hundreds of thousands of dollars in skimmed profits and stolen goods. They, with my employer, The Bayfield Chronicle, collaborated and have me on this trip to disaster, heretofore called a reward for a job well done.

This so-called retreat for a rest starts in heavy rain. The weather hasn't improved since this morning, in fact it seems worse. The rain combined with the wind makes driving hazardous on the major highway, but turning off the main road has me concerned because this trail is no more than a cow path. The washouts started shortly thereafter. This working reward is starting out as a disaster waiting to happen. How I let them talk me into this is one for the books. For the next two weeks it will give me something to think about, mainly how to get even with my editor. It is supposed to be two weeks of tranquility, during which I am supposed to relax and finish an article by the end of the month.

Being an investigative reporter for the Bayfield Chronicle is nerve racking at the best of times. Bayfield has gone through a number of scandals in the past four years; three of the major ones were a result of investigations under my bi-line, Aston Stone. As a consequence of my revelations the city administration fell at the last election and a complete new slate of reformers are in power. They have the backing of several church groups, the PTA and many other civic groups that were screaming for change. This junket is a bonus for my work over the last four years.

At thirty seven, still single, I have been very fortunate in my field; cracking those scandals accelerated me through the ranks to become the top feature writer/reporter for the Chronicle, and an additional bonus, making me the highest paid and most sought after writer/reporter in the Mid-West. Offers from much larger papers flow in, none of which interest me. My co-workers are the best and my current goals can be reached in Bayfield.

This trip is the inspiration of my editor, after he had a brain fart and then consulted the paper's owner. They blest me with two weeks at a very remote cabin in the timber land of one of the major advertisers, the cabin just happens to overlook a beautiful lake on the side of a mountain. The advertiser benefited greatly from one of my exposés, which uncovered a large fraud that had diverted a major portion of their profits into the hand of criminals.

I can't believe this trail. What everybody forgot to mention is that the prior victims sent to this cabin must have made this journey by donkey and mountain goat. My poor Tahoe is working its heart out. Three times I have had the worst sensation ever when all four wheels were spinning in the mud. A steady stream of rocks and gravel are flying upwards from all four tires. The last stream I forded nearly took the truck and me in the strong current. There is a possibility that repairs will have to be done before I can leave paradise. Where did I go wrong to be cursed with this trip?

Prior to leaving the main road I made a pit stop and had the presence of mind to top off the fuel tanks. The shitty weather started when I left Bayfield and hasn't abated an inch. Now dodging rocks and small landslides, the journey is taking all my concentration. Rounding another hairpin curve, a flash of red catches my eye then disappears. It is odd; maybe my eyes are playing tricks. Slowly, continuing my upward climb, that flash of red finally registers. The last time I saw anything like that shade was on clothing worn by people either directing traffic or children riding bikes. Nobody in their right mind would be out here in this weather, would they? Unfortunately, the more I think about it my instinct tells me to investigate, it is likely nothing, but then again it could be something. Shit. Turning around is a nightmare. The Tahoe protests as it pushes over a clump of small trees, mud is flying from the tires as the wheels search for traction. Now turned around can I find the flash of red from this direction? This is one of the times I wish I wasn't an investigative reporter.

Going down the mountain seems a lot easier than going up. Noticing the hairpin curve, I slow to a crawl, even slower then usual. The lights flood over to my left in the turn and there it is: a flash of red. To make matters even worse, the heavens chose that moment to open up the floodgates. Stopping, I grab the spot light. Once out of the truck, I am soaked to the skin in a matter of seconds, nobody told me the second coming was expected. Carefully following the edge of the road, I step in a puddle along the way that turns out to be a crater; now my feet are soaking as well as everything else, there it is. Red reflector tape on a bundle of something on the side of the road gives me that sinking feeling, is it a body? The rain is so heavy it makes it difficult to distinguish what it really is. As much as I hate it I have to investigate. There is a flash of lightening revealing the bundle; it is a body: two feet are sticking out from what appears to be a covering of some sort. The crash of thunder shakes the ground. My gut is in my throat, wondering who it could be.

Eyes blinded with water, I make my way to the body. Now nearly on top of it, the body makes a whimper. Dead bodies don't whimper, some one is down and possibility hurt.

"Hello, are you hurt?"

A small face turns and looks at me, even with the pouring rain, it is obvious the face of a young girl. Her eyes are full of fear.

"Can you help me?"

The reflective tape is on her backpack, what I can see of her clothing, it is for hiking; she is wearing one of those ponchos you see postmen wearing in inclement weather. Helping her out of the backpack we head for the truck. We both struggle against the wind and rain but finally get to the truck. I help her into the passenger seat and then retrieve her backpack.

The next test of my driving skills is turning around and continuing my trip up the mountain to that elusive cabin. Again that sickening feeling comes when all four wheels are slowly spinning, then they bite and we move forward. With the heater and defroster on full blast; I survey my passenger. Strings of matted dark brown hair cover parts of her face mixed with splashes of mud. It is difficult to guess her age, but it has to be a young teen.

"Who are you and what the hell are you doing up here in the middle of nowhere? Do your parents know where you are?"

She turns and looks at me, her two large brown doe like eyes misting. A sob shakes her body.

"I'm Teneil Tone-Pah; I am running away from home."

"What are you doing in this god-forsaken part of the country?"

"It is not god-forsaken; my forefathers have lived and hunted these mountains for hundreds of years. There is a cabin a few miles further, it is fully equipped and nobody is expected up there until hunting season in the late fall. It is a good place to hide."

Teneil is a Native American. Her complexion appears shadowy, but I thought it was the poor light and the circumstances. Even in the cab of the truck it is hard to distinguish shades of color.

"So what were you going to eat?"

"My pack is full of dehydrated food and clothing. With fishing, hunting and wild berries I can take care of myself. These woods have been part of my life since I was five."

"And how old are you now?"

"Fourteen. Who are you?"

"I am Ashton Stone. I work for the Bayfield Chronicle. The people that own that cabin you referred to have generously provided it to my paper. They suggested I use it for a rest. So the cabin does exist?"

"Oh it does, you will love it, and the scenery is so beautiful. There is a big lake in front of it with loons. The fishing is great."

Great, I don't fish. I don't even like fish. The Tahoe is loaded with everything I could think of to get me over these two weeks. Fortunately, there is plenty for two.

"Well, I will have to go back with you tomorrow; your parents will be worried."

"Great, it will do them good. But you don't have to try; you won't be able to get out of here until they repair the road. Depending on how much damage the storm created it could be a couple of weeks or more. There is only one cabin on this road so it will be the last one repaired."

She seems to know a lot more about this area than I do. Teneil has regained her confidence as the heat does its job.

"Well then, we can call them."

"You are really green aren't you? Cell phones don't work from here."

Now there is one little teensy bit of information nobody bothered to tell me. Nobody is expecting me back for two weeks, so no one will be the least bit concerned of my whereabouts. Unless the people who have to be searching for Teneil figure she has come this way, we are outcast from the world for at least two weeks.

Great.

The last few miles things did not get better. The rain has really done some serious damage. The Tahoe is bottoming out continually, making me wonder if we will ever get to that fabled cabin. Then in a flash of lightening, the mystic cabin is revealed. Parking as close to the door as possible, I kill the engine. The rain continues to pound on the roof. What a hellva spot to be in, some relaxation. Once outside the deluge re-soaks my clothing. On the porch, I watch Teneil follow me. She tries the door and finds that it is locked.

"We'll have to break in."

"No we won't, remember I am supposed to be here to relax, they gave me a key."

Once inside, I fumble for a light switch then it dawns on me, there is no power in the middle of nowhere. Teneil moves to my right, bumps into something, mumbles something under her breath then I see a flash of a match and her lighting an oil lamp. A soft yellow glow fills the cabin. It is a large one-room affair with stairs leading to a loft that expands over one half of the cabin. There is a gas stove and what appear to be two refrigerators in the kitchen area as well as a table and six chairs. Why do you have refrigerators in a place with no power? Curiosity getting the better of me, I open one. It is full of food and drinks of various sorts; a cool feeling hits my face. Something is creating power for them. One has an envelope taped to it marked 'Welcome Ashton'.

"They run on propane. You never have been in the woods before, have you?"

"No."

The closest I have been to any woods in my life is a walk in the park and I nearly got lost. That was enough for me. I am not an outdoor sort of person. Teneil is at the fireplace. She has a bundle of burning paper and shoves it towards the chimney. We can't burn paper all night.

"I am creating a draft for the smoke; if we just light the fireplace the smoke would fill the cabin in seconds. The air is heavy with all this rain."

Davey Crockett I am not, saved by a fourteen year old. The envelope contains a note from the owners thanking me again for what my investigation revealed. The food and drink are a small token of thanks. The check represents ten percent of what they will receive from the insurance company and has the blessing of my employers. Why wouldn't it; it doesn't cost them anything. Now, what check? Shaking the envelope it falls to the floor. It is for fifty thousand dollars. Now this makes the trip worthwhile, assuming I can get out of this hellhole. Then the smell of coffee gets my attention, Teneil has made coffee.

"There are all kinds of food here, how many people are you expecting?"

"None, just me. This is supposed to be a retreat for me; all I have to do is complete an assignment by the end of the month."

"There is enough food to feed an army."

While she is busy in the kitchen, I reconnoiter the cabin. The loft reveals three double beds each divided by a sheet of cloth hanging from the beams. In one corner is a shower. This has me wondering where the water is coming from. Turning on the tap, the water flows slowly and is tepid in temperature; it will feel good on my wet body.

"I am going to get my suitcase; do you want your pack? We will unload the Tahoe tomorrow morning."

"Yes, please, all my clothes are in it. I hope they are still dry."

Retrieving them, I stand before the fireplace that is now producing welcome heat. It feels good on my wet cool body. The smell of bacon gets my attention.

"Are you interested in something to eat? Bacon and eggs are the fastest."

"Famished, I just realized I haven't eaten since this morning when I started this trip to paradise."

"You found the shower. Clean up and these will be ready by the time you are done."

Teneil is turning out to be little Miss Homemaker. The shower does have me feeling like life is worth living again. I feel human. The scent of food has me ravished. Teneil has set the table. She has found two more lamps; the room has a cheery feeling with the heat from the fireplace and the smell of food. She joins me and we eat. She is tall for fourteen. Her manners are very good and she handles herself with confidence. She is still in her damp clothing, her hair is a mess, but her face is intriguing, not beautiful but very alluring. Her lips are a little large for her face; maybe she will grow into them. They are very appealing and moist looking; her eyes are large brown drowning pools, sparkling with life. A far cry from when I first saw her. It is hard to tell about the rest of her, as her clothing is very bulky.

"That was an excellent meal. Cooking has never been my thing."

"I have been cooking for dad since I was able to reach the stove. I enjoy doing it."

"I will finish up here and you can shower. I don't know where the hot water comes from."

"The two small water towers outside painted black, they are full and have a pump to give us pressure in the cabin, otherwise, the water would just dribble out. The sun heats the water during the day. You will find out a lot of things tomorrow if the rain stops."

I find out later there is a solar rechargeable battery pack that provides the water pump with power.

While doing the dishes I can hear the shower. My mind is playing tricks with me envisioning the sight. Then I catch myself. I have never been interested in children, hell I have written numerous special pieces on child porn. What the hell am I thinking?

"Mr. Stone, I don't have anything to wear as a nighty, I usually sleep in the nude."

Again my mind envisions that scene, and again I have to bring myself back to reality; she is a young girl in distress. That is stupid thought, she enjoyed the outdoors, and I am the one in distress!

A number of my sweatshirts are very long and could be construed as a nighty for her.

"One of my sweatshirts should do the trick, if you don't mind wearing it."

"That would be great."

"Hang on; I will throw one into the loft."

It is made of soft cashmere, a favorite of mine. One toss and it is over the banister flopping on the loft floor. Returning to the dishes, I can hear her moving about in the loft; again my imagination is running amuck. Finally, she seems to flow downstairs. The change has me frozen in my shoes staring like an idiot. The sweatshirt ends four inches below heaven exposing two very beautiful legs, well-toned and muscled. Teneil isn't carrying any fat what so ever. Her face is radiant; her still damp hair is long and shining. As she approaches, the scent of her shampoo and soap reaches me. Just looking at this young teen has my hydraulics working. Young girls have never had this effect on me. Maybe it has something do with the fresh mountain air.

"This is a nice sweater Mr. Stone. It is so soft against my skin."

More fodder for my vivid imagination. I have worn the sweatshirt numerous times and hadn't noticed its feeling against my skin.

"It does look a lot better on you than it ever did on me."

I don't know if Teneil is blushing, but her skin seems to have an increased glow. Her shading is exotic, mystifying. Shivers run through my body, I feel funny like I am anticipating something. It is definitely time to call it a day and go to bed.

"I don't know about you, but this is a day I would really like to forget."

She stares as me with a disappointing look.

"I don't mean meeting you; I mean the weather and the horrible trip up here. It is not something I am used to."

"Tomorrow will be better; the sun should be shining when we get up."

I watch her climb up the staircase. A lamp is still glowing in a corner bed area. The semi-darkness doesn't reveal if she is wearing panties. There I go again. The last thing I should be thinking of is anything sexual. After blowing out the lamps, then heading upstairs I stub my toe on a solid wood table. My expletive remark gets a giggle from her. Finally in bed, I can't help but look towards her sleeping area. She isn't in the far corner as I had thought, but has moved to the bed next to me; we are only separated by a thin sheet of cloth. I watch her graceful flowing movements, mesmerized. First she combs her long hair with long steady strokes and then she starts brushing. Her grooming fascinates me. Her body movements are silhouetted in the sheet. She is so close I can smell her shampoo. When she is done, she stands and removes my sweatshirt. Her breasts are outlined in the light, small but protruding enough to make them very noticeable, her nipples obvious. Then she moves, her body appears to be facing my bed, I can't help but notice a two-inch gap between her legs. There is a very evident extension projection that has to be her minor labia. Her body has all the curves a young woman should have, in all the right places. The effect of this is a very ridged and aching hardon. Then she blows out the light and the cabin goes into darkness. It takes me an eternity to fall asleep. All I could see is her extended labia very vividly in my dirty mind.

Awaking in the morning after a very fitful sleep, I am still sporting an erection that could penetrate plate steel. The cabin is bright from the sun, the storm dissipated during night. Teneil is already up, she is moving around on the main floor. Getting up it is embarrassing the way my cock is sticking out. I really need relief, but my options are limited to my hand. Closing my eyes and grasping myself, I start stroking. It does feel good and the image in my mind is Teneil, how can I think of a young teen; it isn't right. A sound has me open my eyes. There in all her glory is Teneil staring at me pumping my cock. She doesn't seem fazed in the least, not like my sinking feeling. My cock goes limp in my hand, problem solved.

"I am sorry; I just came up to tell you breakfast is ready."

She turns and promptly leaves me in my quandary. While getting dressed I realize there is no way out of this predicament. The cabin doesn't leave me too many options. I have to face her. No doubt my face has a sheepish look on it when I sit down. She is good. She doesn't flinch; she serves me coffee and asks me how many eggs I would like. She is one cool young lady.

For some reason I am famished. It hasn't been that long since we ate last night. Teneil pours me my second cup of steaming coffee and suggests we enjoy it on the porch. Outside there is a big difference from last night. The sun is warm against my skin; the scenery is actually breathtaking. The lake is calm, as smooth as glass. The sky is so clear you can make out the soft fluffy clouds. I have never seen a sky so vivid, and then I realize what is different, there is no smog. There is a wooden dock with a boathouse at the end of it. A small boat with a motor at the end of the dock sits motionless. It is very picturesque. Looking upwards, I realize the long stings of white are actually vapor trails from the jets flying so high above us they appear as little dots in the sky. Quiet, I have never heard such quiet; the only sound is the occasional chirp of the birds. Then the mournful sound of a loon breaks the silence.

We sit on a log bench, covered with soft cushions. Teneil is wearing body hugging low rider jeans short shorts and a narrow yellow bandana top; the shorts show more then they cover. If she is wearing that outfit to get my interest, she has it! Her top has to be made of a very thin elasticized material. She really doesn't have much, but what she has is on full display. Teneil's breasts jut out about an inch from her body, topped with two pencil-eraser sized nipples. The effect on me is crazy. Never in my life have I been interested in young girls, but today is so different.

"I am sorry I disturbed you this morning, did you finish?"

Shocked at the comment, the heat of my blush starts at my toes and slowly rises to my face in a matter of seconds, unlike Teneil; my complexion shows a stunning red. How in the hell am I supposed to answer a question like that to a young beautiful girl?

"Don't be embarrassed, I hear my brother beating his meat every morning. I've even watched him."

Silence is still the best option at this point. If she walks around her home dressed like as she is, her brother has to jack off just to keep his cool. She also sleeps in the nude, how often has he seen her.

"Where you thinking of me, when you did it?"

The crimson of my blush just increased two shades, Teneil noticing my embarrassment, smiles and gets up and walks to the railing, her back to me. Now I am faced with two beautiful globs of her flawless butt cheeks, most of which is exposed, it makes me want to reach out and touch, the seam of her shorts is lost in the crack of her ass. There are two beautiful handfuls on display. The view does nothing for my condition, neither for my blush nor the rising interest between my legs, it is all happening automatically.

"Do you think I am beautiful?"

Teneil turns facing me, her crotch nearly eyelevel. There is a very distinct camel toe staring me right in the eyes. Pathetically, I just gawk. It has been a while since anything that beautiful graced my eyes. It is more than I imagined last night as she prepared for bed. Why is this happening to me? I don't get off on young girls, but something about Teneil has my number. I have to get in control. Gathering up all my willpower, I attempt to change the topic.

"Why are you running away from home?"

"You first, answer my question."

"Yes, I think you are more than just beautiful, but it makes me feel uncomfortable."

"Just because I am fourteen? Well you shouldn't. I am a woman you know."

There is no doubt about that in my mind, but unfortunately, it isn't the consensus of society. My gaze flips from her lips to her lips. Her natural beauty has me mesmerized. Her upper lips have an effervescing look about them.

"Now, you answer my question."

"Thinking about it now it was silly, my parents were going away for the weekend and my brother was to be my babysitter, I told them I didn't need one, they wouldn't hear of it so here I am. I don't think I proved my point. They likely didn't get away after realizing I wasn't home."

"You have made their point. This stunt just proves you needed a babysitter."

She comes back to the bench and sits down, this time right beside me. The soft scent of shampoo and bath soup emanates from her. Looking down her chest, her nipples have my attention, they look so hard, and the top of her camel toe is very evident. My body stiffens as my attempt at self-control kicks in. Me, the big reputable bi-line writer, who has often written about the bad men who like young girls, is now sitting beside Teneil, and that has me rattled beyond anything I could have ever imagined. The urge to put my arm around her is so strong. Looking at the top of her head, her hair is beckoning my face. She doesn't help, she moves again and this time tightly into my side. Just the touch of our bodies feels like fire, a slight shiver runs the full length of my body.

"You feel so warm and smell nice."

When her hand touches the top of my thigh my cock jerked upwards. Of course she notices it and touches me again. It doesn't disappoint her. My arm is getting uncomfortable; she lifts it and puts her head on my chest. There is absolutely nothing to curtail my reaction. She is now staring at my cock tenting my slacks.

"Maybe I should start working on my assignment."

"We have at least two weeks here, maybe more because of the damage to all the roads. There will be a lot of time for you to finish the assignment."

Teneil looks me in the eye then brings her hand to my face caressing me. The automatic tendency is to lower my face to her touch. Her hand smells of hand cream. My stomach is tied in knots; we are not supposed to be doing anything like this. We are obviously not on the same wavelength. She is caressing my neck and then my chest. When she slips her hand into my shirt, I nearly lose it. Running her fingers through the ample hair on my chest then rolling one of my nipples between her fingers, my right hand is squeezing the bench arm so hard, there has to be my finger impressions in it.

"Can I see the hair on your chest? The men in my family have very little body hair, nowhere near the amount you have."

Sheepishly nodding yes, she proceeds to unbutton my shirt. Now bare-chested, the coolness of the morning feels good, but it is soon replaced by the heat of her exploring hand and fingers. Looking down at her sexy eyebrows, her striking soulful eyes, perky nose and very kissable lips, it is hard to keep control of myself. My left arm slips off the top of the bench down her side, making contact with her soft inviting skin. My puritan upbringing keeps telling me 'get up you asshole, this is not right'. The feel of her bare skin against my hand makes the other side of my being want more. I pull her body against me. She looks up; her tongue slowly moistens her lips, like she is inviting me to kiss her. Slowly I move my face down towards my illicit goal. She doesn't flinch but actually moves up to meet me. When our lips meet, I know I am lost.

There have been many women in my life, being a very recognizable face in Bayfield helped immensely, but none of them can match the exhilaration that is going through me now. There is no way to describe the feeling of kissing this teen. Her arms encircle my neck, and then sitting up, pull her body against mine. Her hard nipples attack my chest. Where do we go from here?

"Teneil, this has gone too far."

Breaking her embrace is the hardest thing I have done in years. My desire for more is overwhelming; in all my life I have never wanted a woman more than Teneil. Standing, I head for the dock and the boat. It appears ready to go. Peering in the boathouse reveals a number of rods and numerous lures hanging on the rafters. Maybe I should take up fishing. Then Teneil's arm encircles mine and she pulls herself to me.

"Ashton, you didn't have to leave. I know what I am doing."

"That is the problem, so do I and it is all wrong. You must know that."

"Your body doesn't think so."

She is right; my cock is part of the problem, not part of the solution. Teneil is admiring the tent it is producing. How I would love to tell her just how far my desire for her goes.

"I had better unload the Tahoe; it is starting to get warm."

The sun has made its presence felt, warming the air. Walking back to the cabin I notice the roof is covered with solar panels and two satellite dishes. There is some kind of power apparatus available, but nothing I noticed. Twenty minutes later with Teneil's help, the truck is unloaded. Her close proximity did nothing to help me regain control of my body. Quite the opposite, my hardon persists and it hurts something awful. Then she disappears outside. In the cabin, there are a number of cabinets. Opening one I find the reason for the solar panels, there is a television and a satellite receiver with a note on the screen telling me that after a day of sunshine there should be enough power for five hours or more of television. Hitting the switch the screen fills momentarily. It has been set on a local channel. The main crux of the news report is the damage the storm did last night. Not only on the snake trail that I drove last night, but there are some major washouts on the main thoroughfares as well that will require extensive repairs. The film footage shows giant caverns where roads used to be. The station switches to local coverage and again the storm is the news. Trees have been uprooted blocking roads, damaging power and telephone lines. The emergency services are still attempting to contact the many people without power and telephones to ensure all people are accounted for, but the task is made more difficult due to so many washouts and uprooted trees blocking roads. The announcer estimates that it could be as long as a month for all roads to be repaired. A number of hydro crews from as far away as Canada are converging on the area to expedite repairs. Shit, there is no way I can last a month with Teneil; no man would be expected to withstand her beauty.