Chapter 40
While Jake was waiting for his answer from the twins, Randal Thornton was sealing his own doom. Randal was flying high on nose candy when he had a drug-induced epiphany. His control of Thornton Development would be guaranteed if he controlled Melissa. He had almost succeeded the time when he was down for Russell's funeral. He thought that he had lost control of Melissa because of her boyfriend, that young puke Turner. What his niece needed was a real man, a real man like Randal Thornton. He had heard the poker game rumors about Melissa's attraction to older men; well, he was older and enough of a man to make her forget the boy she was dating. He did not doubt himself for a minute; that haughty little bitch Melissa just needed a sample of his sturdy cock and she would tell her teenaged lothario to hit the bricks. Better yet, his new friends in Tampa could take care of the boyfriend for him, which would allow him to once again ride in and rescue Melissa. Where was that damned Mitzi? Thinking about his niece had him hard.
When Randal had Mitzi on her knees worshiping his masterful instrument, he called Lester Miller. Mitzi choked when she heard what Randal wanted Lester to do. Randal smiled as she gagged, thinking it was a result of the size of his pussy pleaser. His niece would soon be making that noise for him, he fantasized as he spurted into Mitzi's mewing mouth.
Lester Miller listened to the request from the rich guy and responded with a noncommittal, "I'll get back to you on that". As soon as Randal was off the phone, Lester called Mr. Scarpizio. Ever the loyal soldier, Lester was not about to freelance a whack job without permission. The reels on the FBI's tape recorders whirled like dervishes as the gangsters conducted their business.
"Hey, boss, it's Lester; sorry to bother you at night but I have a little problem."
"That's what I'm here for, Mr. Miller," Vinnie said.
Lester laid out the story for Scarpizio, adding that Randal had sounded weird on the telephone. Lester opined that the guy was irrational and might do something to get them all in deep doo-doo. Scarpizio told Lester to put Randal off for a few days. Scarpizio was planning to go to Florida next week anyway to conduct some union business; he would deal with Randal himself. Vinnie hung up the telephone and mixed himself a shaker of drinks. He took the drinks to his bedroom where the languorous wife of one of New Haven's elite eagerly awaited his return. Randal Thornton's status had just been downgraded from useful to expendable.
Back in Palmdale, Jake was waiting for the answer to his 'who is first' question; he knew without a doubt they had a plan.
"That would be me," Faith stated ardently.
Jake rather figured that Faith would go first, she seemed the more attached to him. As Jake climbed up on the bed, Faith held up her hand.
"Here are the rules," she said, "We each get a night alone with you and get to do whatever we want. The other twin goes with Melissa and gets to do what ever she wants with her."
Jesus, they had been hanging out with Carl McClelland too much; they even made up an agenda for their passage to womanhood. If they handed him a binder of instructions, he was outta there.
Hope took Melissa by the hand and led her out of the room. Jake pulled Faith into his arms and held her to his chest. She was surprisingly calm. When Jake asked her about it, she said she foresaw this happening the first time she met him at the football game. Borrowing a line from Maria, she said it was fate, meant to be, preordained, kismet -- he shushed her with a kiss; he got her drift without the thesaurus.
Faith loved to kiss; she had greedy little Cupid's bow lips and a tongue that slithered out of her mouth like a little pink eel. She climbed on top of him, never breaking contact with his mouth. Stretched out on him full length, she trailed kisses across his face then sat up so she could look down into his eyes.
"We are connected by something, Jake; I don't understand it but I know it for a fact. Hope has the same bond with Melissa. Melissa borrowed something from your sister so she could take Hope's cherry while you get mine."
Jake knew a thing or two about this bonding business. He had noticed that, with certain females, it went deeper than passionate sex. Melissa, Rebecca, Tigger, Helen, and now Faith were a part of him; he did not foresee a future without them. He was not surprised about Hope and Melissa either; he had seen it developing between them the same way as he had noticed the bonding between Erika and Melissa.
Still looking him in the eyes, Faith said, "You feel it too, don't you? Like you can't imagine us ever being very far from each other, no matter what."
Faith did not wait for him to answer her, she slid off his stomach and started pulling off his tighty-whiteys; Jake raised his hips to assist her. She pulled the underwear off his feet and twirled them around her head in victory, then flung them across the room. She reached down and pulled off her red ruffled baby doll panties. She threw them in the same general direction as she had tossed his Jockeys, then resumed her perch on top of him, still wearing the short nightie. Faith put her hands on his chest and tweaked his nipples. Jake thought she was the most naturally erotic female he had ever met; her every move was unconsciously sexy and seductive.
Faith scooted forward, her wet little slit left a snail trail up his body; she stopped when her pussy was just out of reach of his tongue.
"I shaved it for you, Jake; it feels so sexy having my lips bare. See, I even shaved the hair above my pussy into a heart." She closed the gap between her bald mound and his lips. "Here, get your last taste of Faith the Virgin, next time you lick me I'll be a woman, full of your cum."
She was driving him crazy with her teasing; she was definitely Muffy's protégé in the sexy talking league. He grabbed a perfect hemisphere of butt cheek in each hand and clamped his lips on her succulent little morsel. She was soaking wet, her juices dappling her lips like dew on a rose. She moved her hips, chasing his tongue with her clit, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her sexy talk had excited her also; she came as soon as Jake started to suck on her pronounced clit. She slipped off his sticky chin and worked her way back down his body, again leaving a little rivulet of love juice meandering down his chest and belly.
"That was so good, Jake; now I want the real deal."
She grabbed his dick and stood it up, then lined up her soaking slit over it. Spreading her juices on the bulbous head of his dick, she looked up from their lightly joined organs.
"Are you going to keep me, Jake Turner?" she asked.
"As long as you want me to," he answered.
Faith smiled and dropped her weight down onto him; she cried out one short chirp as he ripped through her maidenhead. Three inches of his shaft was buried in her; she looked down then raised herself and dropped again. Five inches disappeared this time. Twice more and she had taken him all. She stopped then, fully impaled, eyes wide as she grew accustomed to his length and girth. Jake asked if she was okay, she nodded and told him it felt like someone pinched her hard at first, but as she took more of him, it actually felt better. Jake continued to lie there letting her set her own pace; hell, she was doing an excellent job so far; who was he to interfere?
Faith started moving as Jake squeezed her nipples. She experimented with different strokes and rhythms, finding what felt especially good to her.
"Ummm, I like this a lot, Jake; it still stings a little but I'm so full of you, it's touching me everywhere at once."
Jake was hanging on the edge of cumming; he wanted to bring her with him so he moved one hand from her tit to her clit. He massaged her nubbin as she rode him harder. Faith was hot, tight, wet and slippery; Jake felt his balls start to draw up just as she stiffened above him. Her orgasm caught up with her, the hard contractions of her vagina made him erupt.
"Ohhh," she said.
"Ahhh, " he replied.
It was not an earth shaking orgasm for her, but it was a good start. She fell forward onto his chest and they hugged and kissed for a while. Faith's kisses brought his flagging staff back to the full upright and locked position; still buried in her, he rolled them over until he was on top. Jake took a couple of exploratory strokes to see if Faith was still game. She showed him she was still with him by matching his thrusts with ones of her own.
Faith wanted to try everything on the first night; as her orgasms got better, she got louder. After about forty-five minutes, they took a break. They showered off the little bit of blood that was mixed with their cum and returned to the bed. Faith lay sprawled on her back, arms akimbo and knees wide.
"Come on, Jake; get a taste of the woman you made," she said.
Jake dove in for a sample; this time he made sure she came bunches. They feel asleep around one; Faith on top of him, his dick still in her. She woke him up at three, she wanted more; it was the same story at six-thirty as she sucked him back to life and climbed on him. She was Annie Oakley, back in the saddle again. "Wasn't she supposed to be sore?" Jake asked himself.
Jake was fucked out by seven, but Faith was bright eyed and bushy tailed. She dragged him into the shower to revive him; he put on his pajama pants and she wore his shirt as they made their way to the kitchen to start breakfast. Faith bustled around efficiently, insisting Jake sit at the table drinking the coffee she made him. Melissa and Hope showed up at eight looking no worse for the wear. Melissa joined Jake at the table while Hope helped Faith. The twins were obviously comparing notes, their conspiratorial whispering punctuated with giggles.
Melissa took the girls with her to Thornton Development while she signed some papers, then it was off to the mall. The twins wanted some sexy underwear to go with their new status as full-fledged women. Then they were going to visit Tigger and cheer her up. An antsy Tigger was hoping to be released from the hospital Sunday. She had a cane and a knee brace but her shoulder and ribs were going to keep her home for at least another week.
The girls had been gone less than an hour when the phone rang. It was a frightened Mitzi. She relayed to Jake what she had overheard Randal talking about on the phone. Mitzi had called his house and told his mother it was important she speak with him; Helen had given her Diane's number. Jake thanked her for warning him, he knew that she was potentially putting herself in danger by passing him information. He told her not to worry, he would protect himself and for her to keep a low profile. He said if she talked to her cousin Vinnie to make sure that she mentioned that Randal appeared to be going off the deep end. He hung up after promising her some alone time this upcoming week. Jake was going to keep Mitzi's warning to himself; no use worrying any one else. He decided right then that he was going to take care of Randal once and for all.
Jake did not get to Hope until Sunday. Both girls were down from the cherry-popping high and admitted to actually being sore on Saturday night so they all slept cuddled up like puppies in Diane's big bed. The first time with Hope was not a repeat of Faith's night; Hope was less demanding than her sibling. She was warm and sweet though, so Jake thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Afterward, she asked if they could all sleep together again. He fell asleep with Faith wrapped around him as if she were a boa constrictor.
Vincent Scarpizio stepped off the Delta jet at Tampa International Airport at one o'clock, Monday afternoon. It was Valentines Day and he was in town to spread some love. Lester and Donald picked him up at the airport in a Cadillac they had rented him from Hertz. On the way to his suite at the Hilton, Vinnie outlined what he wanted them to do for the next two days. Once in his room, Scarpizio called Randal, they chatted like the business partners they were. Randal was in control today and sounded perfectly normal to Scarpizio. Vinnie invited Randal to go marlin fishing with him Wednesday; he had already chartered a boat. A nice sit down and this little hiccup could be fixed. Randal was very pleased about meeting with Scarpizio; he had decided that his partnership with Vincent should include him getting some of the cocaine action. Vincent owed him; after all, he had pointed Vincent toward the rich crowd that was providing his best customers.
Back in Palmdale, Jake was discovering one of the drawbacks of having a horde of women. Valentine's Day was a chore. He skipped school, went to the bank, withdrew five hundred dollars, and went shopping. Cards, the mushier the better, candy, flowers, and little gifts steadily filled the back seat of his car. He delivered a card and flowers to Helen first. She cried because he was so sweet and the card he gave her was so touching. She put the flowers in water and Jake in bed. They made love for the first time in weeks. Jake's tender love making made her start crying again. Jake had never seen her so emotional; he held her until she calmed down. That bonding thing went double for Helen and him.
Jake's next stop was Maria's; he had a card and flowers for her. He also had a card and chocolates to leave for Beth and something for his Tigger. Maria opened the door when he rang the bell. She made appreciative noises over the card and flowers and gave him a kiss. She took Beth's gifts from him and sent him towards Tigger's bedroom with the last of his loot. Tigger was lying on her bed, watching a soap opera on the boob tube, she screamed when he poked his head into her room. She loved the card but went crazy over the ankle bracelet he gave her. She stuck her good leg up in the air for him to put it on her. The gold bracelet had 'Tigger' engraved on the flat center link. Jake kidded her about her hairy legs; she had not shaved them since the accident. She laughed, telling him that she was going for that European look so popular nowadays.
Jake left the Thorntons' house and headed across town to see Liz. He had spoken to her on the phone a couple of times but had not seen her in over two weeks. She said she was fighting a cold. Liz did look pale and drawn but was very happy to see him. He gave her a card and flowers; she gave him a card but blushingly told him not to open it until he was alone. They kissed and made a date for later in the week -- she said she would be feeling better by then. Jake opened the card when he got to his car. It was a very romantic card; inside the card were little coupons for assorted sexual favors. Jake grinned; he was going to enjoy shopping at Liz's emporium.
Next stop, the Doanes. Cards and flowers of course, but also an ankle bracelet for Rebecca inscribed simply 'My Baby'. Jake had to pry the crying librarian off him pleading that he had to go get the twins. Rebecca's parting words caused his dick to twitch.
She said, "Next Monday is the President's Day holiday, be here at nine, you are going to get soooo lucky, my darling."
Jake then went to the Johanssons'; he had flowers and a card for Helga. She extracted a promise of a wild afternoon from him then let him go. She would make him acutely aware of her appreciation very soon.
He had a dozen long stem roses delivered to Gail Marin at work; he knew women loved that.
When he got home with Faith and Hope, Erika was there to help them celebrate. He gave them all flowers, cards, and little gifts. In return, they tried to smother him in nubile flesh. He had a feeling that an unintended consequence of his little display of appreciation was going to be a lot of sexy women jumping his bones.
Randal Thornton woke up to the incessant ringing of the Big Ben alarm clock on his night stand. He grumbled and cursed the early hour but bounced out of bed. Marlin fishing today and an opportunity to expand his empire in a different direction had him motivated. He snatched the covers off Mitzi and smacked her hard on the ass.
"Get up, you lazy heifer; I need some coffee."
Mitzi uncomplainingly got out of bed and padded to the kitchen. She put on a pot of coffee and sat down at the table. She sure wished Jake would hurry up and find her a way out of this mess. Randal had hit her last night because he said she over-cooked the veal. Her face still hurt from the backhand blow; now, this morning, he was acting as if nothing happened. Well, at least she had the day to herself, which was some consolation. She would cover up the bruises and go shopping at lunch, she decided; she had seen an outfit Jake would love her in at a boutique around the corner.
Randal came into the kitchen then and she scurried to get him a cup of coffee. Randal took out his little vial of coke and hot-shotted a snort up each nostril; he shook his head and pinched his nose, damn that shit was good. Good enough to even make that sorry bitch Mitzi look good, he thought as he grabbed her and pushed her face down on the table. She struggled as he forced himself into her dry cunt; he liked it when she sobbingly pleaded for him to stop. Randal left Mitzi curled up crying on the kitchen floor; he wondered what he ever saw in her whining ass. Melissa, he knew, would be a much better lover. When he got back from fishing, he was tossing Mitzi out on her tired ass.
Randal arrived at the Marina del Mar at seven sharp. Vincent was waiting for him on the dock, watching as the captain of the charter boat prepared for their day of fishing. They cast off at seven-twenty, the sun breaking across the horizon at their backs. It was pleasantly cool and crisp, sixty degrees the captain said, should get up to seventy-five. The water was as smooth as glass as the thirty-six foot Boston Whaler headed due west. The captain noted the smaller pleasure boat trailing them about a half mile off their stern. It was not uncommon for amateurs to follow the charter boats; after all, the professionals knew where the fish were.
Randal brought up his idea about a partnership in the lucrative cocoa import business and Vincent said the idea had merit. Randal was at the top of his game. The captain throttled back to an idle after an hour and a half, fifteen mile out in the Gulf. He strapped Randal and Vincent into the sturdy trolling chairs and set them up with big salt water rigs. The captain set out on a zigzag course; after half an hour Vincent unstrapped himself saying he was going to get a drink out of the cooler he had brought. Randal was about to ask for a beer for himself when his pole was nearly jerked from his hands. The captain heard the commotion and throttled back some, he locked the wheel to keep the boat straight and went back to help his client. "Perfect" thought Vincent as he pulled the pistol that was hidden in the cooler out of its water proof bag. He walked up behind the captain and put a bullet in the back of his head; the loud report of the.38 caused Randal to jerk around.
"I am dissolving our partnership," Scarpizio said, and shot Randal between the eyes.
Vincent dropped the pistol over the side and went up to the flying bridge to idle the engines. Ten minutes later, the boat that had been trailing them pulled alongside. Lester Miller hopped onto the charter boat wearing a scuba wetsuit; Donald Farenti tossed him a heavy duffle bag. Vincent got into the smaller boat and Farenti backed the boat away. Lester opened the duffle bag and started wiring explosives; he had been a combat engineer in the military and was an expert at making things go boom. Lester hooked ten quarter pound blocks of TNT around the boat, then put two, two pound blocks of C-4 in the center of the deck. He piled the bodies of Randal and the hapless captain on top of the C-4 to make a shape charge that would effectively blow the bottom out of the boat. Lester made one last check of his rigging then pointed the boat due west, set the throttle on the third notch, and locked the steering to hold that course. Lester activated the fifteen minute time pencil fuse and dove over the side.
Donald was navigating towards Clearwater when they heard the 'Karumph!' of the exploding charter boat behind them. The three turned around and admired the oily black cloud on the horizon.
It was a text book perfect crime - almost. Scarpizio and his cohorts had planned for everything except Jim Peters. Peters had followed Lester to Clearwater when he rented the boat. A twenty dollar bill bought him the information that Miller was taking the boat fishing the next morning. Peters was there taking pictures when Lester and Donald set sail. He was still there, still snapping candids, when three men returned. Jim Peters' photographs, combined with the FBI's tape recordings, would prove to be damning evidence.
Vincent Scarpizio had chartered the fishing boat using Randal's name and address. The Coast Guard team investigating the explosion did not identify the boat until it was reported as having not returned to port. At ten o'clock that night, the State Police informed Mitzi of the tragedy. She tearfully told the troopers how they could reach Randal's estranged wife. Barry Miller ended up breaking the news to Maria.
Mitzi calmly packed her bags that night. She rifled Randal's desk and found the twenty grand in cash Randal had withdrawn to secure Jake's demise. At nine the next morning, she took a taxi from Orland to Palmdale, a ride worth infinitely more than the hundred and ten dollar fare. She rented a room at the same efficiency motel that Miller and Farenti had stayed in and took a nap. She wanted to be fresh and rested when she saw Jake later that evening as a free woman.
Thursday, the day after Randal's disappearance, everyone rallied around Maria and Marisa. True, it was no great loss, but the Thornton women were still in shock. Tyler was called; he was flying in that afternoon to be with his mother and sister. Angie volunteered to pick him up at the airport. Helen and Helga stayed with Maria for moral support as Maria notified Randal's relatives in Connecticut. Everything was up in the air concerning funeral plans as there was no body. Barry kept from them the details of the few grizzly tattered remains that had been collected before the fish had finished feasting. A partial severed hand was found floating in the debris; the Pinellas County Coroner was waiting on Randal's military records to try to match finger prints.
Mitzi finally got a hold of Jake at the Phillips house at three-thirty. Jake was watching the twins while Melissa was with her aunt and cousin. Jake set the twins to making supper and made the short trip to where Mitzi was staying. He held her as she cried herself out relating her mistreatment at Randal's hands the last few days. Jake was almost disappointed that he had been denied the privilege of dispatching Randal to the hell he deserved. Jake figured the best treatment for Mitzi right now was tenderness, so he made gentle love to her there in the no-tell motel. It was indeed curative for Mitzi; she knew that, no matter what happened, she was never going to be with another man who did not think of her first.
On Friday afternoon, Jim Peters reported in with his photos and surveillance reports. Melissa thanked him and gave him an addition two thousand dollars as severance. Jake went to see Mitzi to confirm his hunch as to the identity of the third man in Peters' photographs. Suspicions confirmed, he met with Barry Miller and laid out everything for him. Randal's death was folded into the federal probe as was the new information concerning possible drug smuggling. The Feds agreed to let Miller and Farenti be tried by the state of Florida if a murder case could be built against them.
When Lester Miller walked into the Hole in the Wall Saloon Saturday night, he immediately noticed the beautiful auburn haired young woman setting at the bar. As he shot pool, he kept noticing her watching him. Finally, he swaggered over to the bar and sat next to her.
"What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" he asked using his best Bogart imitation.
"I'm here to make some lucky sailor's dreams come true", she said. "I'm here on vacation, just turned eighteen yesterday, and I want what I can't get in Wisconsin."
"Man oh man", thought Lester, "I've died and gone to heaven."
They chit-chatted for a few more minutes, Lester boldly stroking her legs, when she said, "I've got a room just up the road, want to go with me to it?"
Did he ever, he tossed a ten on the bar and led her outside. She gave him a toe curling kiss and told him to follow her. In under ten minutes, they were inside room 109 of the Stardust Motel. Lester was riveted as she slowly took off her clothes; she had the best body he had ever seen, taut and smooth, her lightly tanned skin glistened. Lester tore off his clothes, so enraptured he never heard the bathroom door open.
"Say, Lester, did I mention I had a roommate?" said his vision nodding in the direction behind him.
Lester spun around and was face to face with the biggest blonde woman he had ever seen. She was holding some sort of silenced pistol aimed at his groin and she looked pissed off enough to shoot.
"Hello, Lester", the big babe said, "do exactly as I say and you can keep your scrawny little balls; fuck with me and I'll make you a eunuch."
Lester did not doubt her for a second; he nodded glumly as his dick shriveled to the size of a soda straw and his gonads found a new home right under his Adam's apple.
Estella Nunez opened the door of room 109 Sunday morning to clean it, she did not knock because the 'please make up room' sign was hanging on the door knob. She bustled in pushing the vacuum cleaner in front of her. When she saw the naked man on his hand and knees duct taped to the bed, she let out an ear curdling scream and ran to the office. The police who arrived on the scene had a hard time keeping a straight face at the sight of the trussed up tattooed stevedore. He was covered in hickeys and crimson red lipstick kisses. Just as they were about to cut him free, there was a bright flash at the door, the crime reporter for the Tampa Tribune had been tipped off about a bizarre crime committed in the motel. Right behind the reporter was a diminutive angry woman claiming to be the vic's wife. Someone had called her and said her husband was at the motel with his mistress. Lester groaned through the hundred mile an hour tape covering his mouth; "Shoot," he mumbled, "somebody just shoot me."
Meanwhile, the State Police were chasing a naked Donald Farenti through the woods next to the rest area at mile marker 47 on I-4, east bound. Donald was sprinting like an Olympian; nobody was going to believe his explanation of why he was naked in a car full of kiddie porn.
Jake slipped into bed at five in the morning, crawling quietly into the tangle of sleeping beauties. Erika and Debbie were racked out in the twin's room. It had been a good night of pay-backs, 'don't get mad, get even' was an excellent motto.
That same night in Orlando, doctor Christopher Douglas was fighting valiantly to save the life of a despondent co-ed who had tried to kill herself with a cocktail of alcohol and barbiturates. They both partially succeeded-- he saved her body, she killed her brain. Regina Mallory was going to be a ward of the state for a long time, he feared, stuck in a vegetative legal limbo between the living and the dead.
Sixty-one miles away and thirty-one years later, forty-three year
old Nina Murphy's Taurus station wagon was t-boned by a speeding dump
truck running a red light at the intersection of US Highway 1 and
Granada Avenue. She was killed instantly; the doctor told her grown
children she probably did not feel a thing.