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Today I intended to talk to John. He obviously wasn't going to cave and tell me about the flash drive, but I no longer needed him to. I knew they had moved him home with a nurse and a police officer standing guard outside his room. I planned to just show up at his door without calling in advance. Before I confronted him, I wanted to spend an hour or two carefully going over the data he'd hidden on the flash drive. By mid-morning when I left for his house, I'd looked at every word and every picture so carefully I nearly had the information memorized. The last thing I did before leaving home was copy the drive. I put the original in my safe. On the way to John’s, I dropped by the bank and put the copy in my safety deposit box.
Connie answered the door, and when she saw me standing on the porch, she said, “Thank God! Maybe now John's mood will improve, and he'll be fit to live with again.”
“Been a bit of a grump, has he? Are you just here visiting, or have you moved in?”
“The stubborn idiot insisted he needed to be in his own house. The hospital wouldn't let him go home without a nurse. So here I am. The hospital gave me two weeks of personal time to get him settled. I have no idea what I’ll do with him after that. Come on in. Just give your name to the police officer at his door. You're already on the approved visitors’ list.”
I gave my name to the young cop and walked in. John saw me, looked at the officer, and said, “You can wait outside, Bill. I need some privacy.”
Bill gave me an uncertain look before walking out and quietly closing the door. John turned his attention to me and said, “Gee, you finally found time to stop by. I hope the visit doesn't throw off your busy schedule.”
He was pissed, but so was I. “Don't bitch at me! I saved your sorry ass, didn't I? You could have had me here any time if you'd been a little more willing to share. We might even have been able to prevent all this.”
Here I made a sweeping gesture indicating his beat-up appearance. By we were both shouting. “Maybe, or maybe we'd both be in this condition or worse!”
Connie interrupted his tirade by bursting through the door. “What the hell is going on in here? You upset the guard so much he came looking for me. He was scared to come back in himself after you ordered him out.”
We both looked sheepishly at Connie. Finally, John said, “Nothing to worry about, sis. You can go back to whatever you were doing with no need to worry. We promise to be good.”
She gave him a “you better be” look and said, “I'm going, but I'll be back in ten minutes with coffee and some fresh rolls I have in the oven. When I return, there had better be a friendly atmosphere in here.”
When she'd gone, I looked at John and said quietly, but in my most vindictive voice, “Look, pal, you didn't leave me much choice other than to get involved. First you sent me Silva and then the mostly useless email just before you were taken. You involved me without all the facts, which was the worst thing you could do.”
He sighed. “You're right and believe me, I regretted it every minute of the extra days it took you to find me because of it.”
“Okay, now we're getting somewhere. Let's pool our knowledge and see how we're going to bring these people down. I have the flash drive you left with Connie.”
I paused there because we heard her outside giving the police officer coffee and a roll. A minute later she bustled through the door with a tray balancing a coffee pot, two cups, and a basket of heavenly-smelling sweet rolls. “Don't worry, I'm not staying, since it sounds like you two have calmed down, and hopefully, the goodies will help you be calm. Call me if you need anything.”
Having accomplished her purpose, she walked back out the door and left us alone. John said, “Why don't you pull that little table over here and bring a chair? Connie bakes absolutely delicious rolls, and we should eat them while they're warm. They're the very best right out of the oven.”
After his ordeal, he needed to gain back some lost weight, so I did as he suggested. Once we were settled, he said, “I figured you had the drive. I made Connie bring me the jewelry box so I could check the first day I was home and fully alert. There wasn't much chance that anyone but you would have figured out what the key would open.”
Through bites of sticky, cherry heaven, I said, “It looks to me like these people are involved in about a dozen ways to exploit women. We're talking about bottom-feeders like Hector Dalton up to and possibly including the governor. We need a plan comprehensive enough to net them all at once.”
He tried to talk through his own roll, but I could barely understand him until he swallowed and started over. “You got rid of some of the scum the night you rescued LeAnn Silva, but there are way too many left. Tell me about that night; I've been dying to hear how you pulled it off. The cops were completely baffled, and someone sure cleaned up the story before it hit the papers.”
“I'm not real sure I want to sit here and discuss LeAnn's rescue with a cop.”
He laughed, because he knew I wouldn't be able to resist telling him at least part of the story. He was right and we'd discussed worse things in the past. So, I told him about the rescue, but without implicating myself too deeply in anything illegal. When I'd finished, he said, “Debbie Longworth sounds amazing. Imagine a ten-year-old with so much moxie.”
I said, “She has more courage than most adults, that's for sure.”
“So, tell me about the night you rescued me. I know there was someone with you, but I don't remember who. As you know, I was pretty well out of things when you arrived.”
“You'll just have to be satisfied knowing you were rescued. I don't intend to discuss that night with you or anyone else.”
He didn't like it, but he knew I was serious and didn't argue. Once we had those topics out of the way, we began sharing our knowledge about prostitution, child porn, snuff films, and the people we suspected of being involved. We were convinced Hector Dalton kept prostitutes at the Domino Club and possibly at other locations, and we believed some of those women were being held against their will. We also knew he sometimes offered children to his customers with “special tastes.” Besides the live action at the clubs, he was making porn and snuff films. One of those ventures had to give us some way to incriminate him, so our only course of action was to keep gathering information until we found a way to topple his empire. During a break in the conversation, I gave him back Connie's jewelry box key. He'd have a better chance of replacing it where it belonged than I would.
By the time Connie showed up and invited me to lunch around twelve-thirty, we'd pretty well caught up on what we each knew so far. I politely declined the lunch, but promised I'd make a return visit the next day. My cell phone showed I had a call from the guys watching the warehouse, and I wanted to get back to them at once. John needed the rest anyway. Tomorrow we could begin putting together a plan of attack.
As soon as I was outside, I tried to return Lenny's call, but his cell phone went directly to voice mail. I was sure whatever was going on at the warehouse would provide useful information. Nobody rented a large building for no reason. When I got no answer from Lenny I tried Cal, but he didn't answer either. There were plenty of reasons they might not pick up, but I didn't like it. Maybe they were just busy and would call back soon, but I decided a personal trip to the warehouse was warranted.
I parked my car a full block away and worked my way behind the building next door. There was a small bit of open land there. It wasn't maintained, so the brush was thick, but I knew this was where Lenny and Cal had hidden in order to record any activity in the area. I maneuvered through the scratchy vegetation up next to the building. I didn't see any sign of my guys or any evidence they'd ever been there. Now the concern I'd been holding at bay became full-blown. Something definitely wasn't right. I had just started to turn and work my way closer to the building leased by Dalton and his crew when something jammed into my shoulder. If I hadn't been turning, it would have caught me in the back of the neck. The prod had missed its intended target, but I immediately fell to the ground, losing control of my muscles and twitching violently. I knew someone had just tased me. I wasn't unconscious, but initially my thoughts were scrambled. I was aware of being lifted and carried toward the adjacent building, but I couldn't tell by whom or how many attackers there were. By the time we entered the warehouse, my mind was much clearer, but I still couldn't control my body. I was dumped in a small room and the door clanged shut. I heard a key turn in the lock and knew that for the present I was trapped. Even worse, as I'd been carried to the building, I'd seen the bodies of Lenny and Cal. Their deaths hadn't been easy. There wasn't anything I could do to save them, but I promised myself that they would have justice.
All I could do for the moment was listen, and I heard at least three separate voices outside the room. One belonged to the huge guard who had accosted me the first time I'd visited the warehouse. I wasn't sure about the other two, but I suspected the one giving orders was Hector Dalton himself. The guard said, “Sorry, boss, but these two didn't know much. We tried everything, but all they could tell us was who had hired them.”
The leader said, “No problem. We have her now, and she won't be snooping around anymore. Just get rid of those bodies and clean up the mess.”
The third man said, “Sure, boss, but what do you want us to do with her?”
“Just slap some tape over her mouth so she can't scream and let time do the rest. No one is going to find her in here if you remember to lock the warehouse door this time. You can come back in the morning after the heat and lack of water begin taking a toll. Find out what she knows and who she works for, and most importantly, we have to find out if she's told anyone else about this place. Once you've gotten all the information you can, get rid of her.”
He was ordering torture and death, and one way or another, I would get even with him later. I already owed him big time for the death of my friends. Leaving me on my own was a big mistake and gave me a good chance to escape. I loved it when the opposition underestimated me.
While the guard and the other goon were dragging away the bodies, I lay helpless in the cage. I knew I would gain muscle control soon, but I couldn't move yet. I was glad the taser hadn't caught me in the neck, or the symptoms would have been worse. Time passed, and I must have been completely out of it because I never heard the men leave, but when my mind steadied and I thought I might be able to stand, I used the wall for leverage and then hung on to the bars in the small window to stay upright. My first chore was to remove the tape from my mouth. I'd had to do this once before in my life and I hated the thought, but I grabbed the edge and yanked it off. The pain sucked, but the sticky, nasty feeling it left behind was worse. Now that I could breathe more freely, I turned my attention to the warehouse.
The bodies, the gore, and all the men were gone, and I was locked in one of the small cages I'd seen earlier at the back of the building. I had no idea of the time, but it must have been daylight because light was filtering in through the clear panels in the roof and a few of the greasy windows down the side of the building. These men certainly hadn’t seen much threat from a mere woman, because they hadn't even tied my hands and feet. I knew from my previous visit that the locks on these doors were ancient, and I didn't think it would take me long to pick if I still had anything to pick it with. One of the men must have searched me, because my gun, belt knife, and boot knife were all gone. Well, not “gone” exactly. I could see them lying on a table outside my cell, but the table was way out of reach. Most of the rest of my equipment was in the small backpack I always carried, which was also sitting on the table. I could have taught them a thing or two about searching for someone, though, because my clothing still contained one or two tricks. One was a thin probe I kept in a special pocket deep inside my boot that could double as a simple lock pick or a weapon. What should have taken me two minutes took ten, because my muscles weren't quite up to their usual standard when I began the delicate movements required to pick the lock. Once that was carried out, I was disappointed to find that the board had been dropped into the iron brackets on the outside of the door. Fortunately, because the wood was old and dry, it had shrunk enough over the years that there was a gap between the door and the frame. With some effort, I eventually pried it up enough with my probe that I could push the door open. The tool was now bent and useless, but I was free.
When I walked out of the cage, I felt like crap, but was glad to be alive. From what I'd heard earlier, I was certain Dalton had brought in a new group of women for the reopening of the Domino Club, but I also knew I would no longer find any evidence here. They would have moved everything when they discovered Lenny and Cal. I concentrated all my efforts on getting myself and my belongings safely back to my car and driving home.
~ * ~
I'd just finished a long, hot shower when a messenger showed up with the pictures Paul had taken at the Domino Club's big shindig. He had attached a page of notes to each picture. Reporters had been allowed to take pictures and do interviews outside the building and inside the huge lobby, but they weren't allowed upstairs. Above the first floor it was members-only. Browsing through the pictures, I discovered that while the governor had attended, the mayor had been the one to dedicate the new building. There were lots of celebrities and politicians at the celebration, and one of the things my thorough PI had paid special attention to was the people who went upstairs. It helped establish names for some of the members. I wondered how many other party-goers knew what the club was really all about. Some may have known and not cared, but I was sure a good portion of those attending had no idea what went on behind the scenes. I felt sorry for the women upstairs but was glad there had been no reports of missing children during the last few days.
I wanted to build the most comprehensive membership list I could so that when we decided how to topple the club it would take down as many willing participants as possible with it. For help, I called the best scam artist I knew, Clarissa Johnson. Clarissa had worked for me several times. No favors or claims of friendship would help me here because the actress only worked for cash, but she was worth every penny she charged. I arranged for her to call twenty of the most well-known people among Paul's pictures that I suspected were members. I wanted her to tell them she was calling from the Domino Club checking to see if their dues were current. If they admitted to either owing or having already paid dues, I would know for sure they were members. She'd have to call them all quickly, because one or more were bound to complain, and I didn't want the scam traced back to her when Hector figured out what was going on. Considering who was involved, she charged dearly, but I could afford it, and I knew she would do a convincing job.
I'd explained what I needed to Clarissa, gone back through the pictures from the opening, and absorbed all the information provided, with enough time remaining for a nap and leisurely dinner. Later I planned to go club-hopping to locate more information about the people procuring the women. I needed to track down the names of the people providing the money and more information about where the women were coming from, as well as what happened to them once they were working at the clubs. If I couldn't find out what I wanted to know tonight, I'd set someone up at the Calico Club, have them appear as a good candidate for recruitment, and then gather all the information they could. Unfortunately, this would take time, so I hoped I'd be able to tap some of my contacts for information first.
After visiting three of the seedier clubs with no success, I headed for the Calico Club. This was the one place I'd heard anything remotely useful. I didn't see Dennis Clampton in the club, and I was sure I'd already found out everything Zelda knew. I'd been there for about thirty minutes when I spotted the manager, Robert North. I knew little about the man, but he was the one who had initially contacted Candy and her friends, so he seemed like a logical choice to target for information. I wasn't sure of the best way to approach him, but it wasn't long until I got my opportunity. North walked over and was talking to Zelda a few minutes before her next performance would start, so I hurried over to say hi, knowing she would have to introduce me. Naturally, she told him I was Tammy Carson, as it was the name she knew me by. After the introduction I did my best, Oh-you're-wonderful-and-I'm-a-slut routine, and he invited me to sit with him and have a drink. He'd seen me around before, but this was the first time we'd met. One drink turned into four. I had barely gotten seated at his table when I’d received the first of several invitations to test the couch in his office. I'd taken the opportunity to drop what I hoped was a sufficient dose of the date rape drug Klonopin into his drink. When the fourth drink arrived, I could tell he was feeling the effects, so I accompanied him back to his office. I also added a little more of the drug to his drink, hoping he wouldn't remember tonight when he woke up tomorrow.
By the time we were settled comfortably in the privacy of his office, he was feeling the drug's effect. It wasn't a big surprise when he told me he worked with Dennis Clampton. I also wasn’t surprised when the mayor’s son’s name turned up, because a sleazebag lawyer was the perfect person to handle those kinds of transactions. From what I could learn, they were practically turning the women they were pretending to help into indentured servants. Hoping to learn more about the people involved, I fed him a cock-and-bull story about a friend of mine who was in serious trouble and needed money fast. I kept my description of her problems vague. He was most accommodating and told me to bring my friend to see him and he'd arrange everything. It took a bit more effort to get names of the people he was fronting for, but I finally got one name. By the time I'd found out what I believed was everything he knew, he was on the verge of falling asleep. This was good because I couldn't let him get close enough to discover I was wearing a wire. The recording I made might never be allowed in court, but it would give the police a lot of leverage. I encouraged him to rest for a bit, and once he nodded off, I made my escape. In the morning, his memories of the evening would be fuzzy at best.
~ * ~
First thing when I woke, which was around ten the following morning, I began using the computer to hunt through a maze of corporations and stockholders to find out who owned the Calico Club. Eventually, I discovered a company called Clubs Unlimited. As well as Calico, its holdings included five other nightclubs the police suspected of supplying women for risky encounters. The Calico Club seemed to be their only holding that didn't provide prostitutes. Nick Tanner's name was still listed as a stockholder of Clubs Unlimited, so it couldn't have been updated recently. At least not since the night I’d rescued LeAnn. Also listed were Hector Dalton and Dennis Clampton. I wondered if the mayor truly knew about all his son's illegal activities. Covering for Dennis was a big mistake and would be the mayor's downfall, eventually.
When I'd completed my research, it was time for my promised visit to John. We needed to develop a plan. It was past time someone put a stop to Hector Dalton's illegal and degrading empire.
When I arrived at the house, Connie opened the door and said, “Thank heavens it's you. He's been driving me nuts waiting for you to arrive. Did he tell you the doctors are going to let him start getting up and around this week? At least he can't go back to work until the department doctors clear him for duty.”
I said, “Don't count on that to keep him down. He'll think of some way to bribe them if he can.”
By then we'd reached John's door. I knocked and went in to find him dressed and sitting up in bed. He looked more determined than comfortable with the tight bandage around his ribs and large cast on his arm. He was still covered in bruises, and now they were a rainbow of color, but I knew that when the large bandages came off his feet, Connie wasn't going to be able to keep him recuperating much longer. I said, “You seem chipper today. Have you come up with any good ideas about how we're going to deal with Dalton?”
“Actually, I have a couple of ideas. I've been waiting to see what you've come up with and then we can make definite plans.”
“Sounds good to me. You better go first, since I can see you're about to burst if you have to wait any longer.”
He laughed, scratched the scabs above his eye, and then, thinking better of it, put his hands in his lap. “Okay, as far as I can figure, we can go about this one of two ways: We could contact a reliable journalist and give him the pictures and all the information we've gathered so far. Once the story came out, the police would have to begin rounding everyone up for questioning. The eventual outcome might or might not be what we want.”
“I've considered that option, but I think there are probably too many bigwigs involved. Somewhere along the line, the process would break down. The people involved would make sure it never got to court.”
“You may be right. Some of those people have a lot of clout. My second idea involves going after Dalton on all fronts. If we brought him down, the club members would get the warning. Besides, if we bring him down, there wouldn't be anywhere for the rest of them to indulge their perversions.”
“I have some ideas about how we might make that work. I assume by ‘attacking on all fronts’ you mean each of the different areas of his business, like porn, prostitution, and kidnapping?”
“Yeah. I was also thinking about checking into his tax situation. I bet he isn't reporting all his income. There are lots of drugs around his clubs, and along with all the rest, I bet he deals.”
“My own ideas have been running along similar lines, but I think rather than either one alone, we should use both ideas with some modifications.”
“So, tell me how you would combine the two.”
“The way I see it, we aren't ever going to get all the high-powered people who use Dalton's services arrested. Depending on how much they know about his business practices, a lot of them should go to jail, but we need to concentrate on what we can accomplish. Our main goal needs to be getting Dalton, Dennis Clampton, and the mayor out of circulation.”
“We agree so far, keep talking.”
“Okay, here's what I think we need to do step by step. First, I think we need to write to all the people we're sure are members. We tell them all the gory details of how Dalton operates, right down to the making of snuff films using real deaths. This should cause anyone with any conscience at all to drop out at once. I think the letter needs to explain how Dalton is going down, and if they don't want to go with him, they need to drop the club like a hot potato. We can include copies of the pictures I have of them going upstairs in the Domino Club. That should hurt his income and lose him a lot of influential backers.”
“It sounds like a good way to start. Then what?”
“I didn't tell you before, but I have one of his snuff films, and I have already got experts analyzing it. If they can prove it's real, it becomes evidence of murder.
“I also have people working to find something in his financial records that we can use for leverage. I am hoping we can use what we know to get his accountant to testify. I'm betting we can convince him, if he wants to avoid a murder rap. I'm not sure you even know about how club managers con girls into prostitution, but I have the manager of one of his clubs on tape explaining it to me. I also have a woman I hope will testify that they tried to recruit her.”
John said, “It sounds like you've been busy.”
“I guess I don't take it very well when someone is trying to kill me.”
This was new information for John, so I took time out to explain what had happened.
“First me and then you, with a bunch of people killed along the way! These guys seem to think they can get away with anything.”
“That's not too surprising. So far, they have gotten away with whatever they've wanted to do.”
“Okay, I see your point. What else does your master plan suggest?”
“At this point, I don't have any information about how he gets his drugs, but if we can prove all these other crimes, what we've missed won't matter. He can only serve one life sentence. I don't have any way other than his porn films to suggest he uses children and unwilling women for prostitution either, even though I know he does. I believe when all the rest of his activities become public knowledge, some of these women and maybe some children will come forward on their own.”
“That sounds like plenty of solid evidence, and if we could ever get it to trial, it should be enough to close his clubs and land him in jail. But what's to keep his influential friends from shoving it all under a rug to keep it from going to court?”
“That's one reason for the initial letters. Hopefully, a lot of those friends will be working hard to distance themselves from Dalton and his flunkies, like Dennis. Also, I think we should incorporate your first idea about the journalist. We need to find the right person and give them the evidence at the same time that we give it to the police. They shouldn't be able to pull off a cover-up once the information is out there for everyone to see.”
“This scheme actually sounds like a workable plan. When do you want to start putting things into motion?”
“I need a few more days. I need to get the accountant on board and be sure we have the right evidence to implicate Dennis and his dad, our lovely mayor. I plan to see if I can get into Dalton's office at the Domino Club. I want proof positive on all the people we're letting off the hook with the initial letters in case we have any future problems with them. I also want irrefutable evidence against the mayor. We can't leave him in a position of power. Anything else I find will be pure gravy.”
“Getting into Dalton's office may provide us with additional information, but how in the world do you think you can break in there? His office is bound to have better security than Fort Knox. Also, there is the matter of providing a clean chain of evidence when I present the case to my boss. I can't just say you stole it.”
“True, but you can claim it was mailed to you anonymously, which it will be. Experts will be able to authenticate things like signatures and photographs.”
“I like everything about this except you going to the club. It sounds like a good way to get yourself killed.”
“I have been there before, you know. Getting into the club won't be too hard, but searching Dalton's office may be a little tricky. Don't worry—I'll figure something out.”
“If my job doesn't give me ulcers, you will, for sure!”
We bickered back and forth for a while longer, but we now had a plan in place. When John received the information I mailed him and he knew the accountant would cooperate, he would take our evidence to his boss. I would give my journalist friend identical evidence on the same day. In the meantime, I would send the members their scary letters and find a way into the Domino Club. My planned visit wasn't entirely altruistic. I wanted detailed files on all the members. It would be great blackmail material for favors I might want/need in the future.
On the drive home, I decided to call Senator Silva and give him an idea of what was coming. He was in a good position to help make sure the arrests and subsequent trials went smoothly. Besides, he'd been instrumental in making all this happen and had worked long and hard to pass laws that would make sure those men were punished,
When I reached the porch of my house, I realized I was starving. I'd missed lunch, since I’d been too busy to make a trip to the grocery store, and John and I had been too busy plotting when lunchtime rolled around to think about eating. Now it was almost dinnertime. I was still punching in the lock code when I heard someone on the steps behind me. I whirled around, reaching for my gun as I turned, only to find Kit standing there wearing a big grin and carrying two pizza boxes.
“One of these days, I'm going to shoot you when you creep up on me like a thief in the night. Probably not tonight, though, if there's a Hawaiian pizza in one of those boxes.”
He gave me an evil grin and said, “I have just what you want, but I hope you have beer, because I forgot to stop at the corner store to pick up a six-pack.”
“I think I can rustle up a few brews. Come in here and get those boxes open and I'll grab the drinks.”
Along with the drinks, I put together a quick salad. The pizza was from my favorite place. There's nothing like starvation to make food taste wonderful. We definitely had the hunger, but we still couldn't quite eat it all, even though we tried. When we couldn't hold another slice, I said, “Did you just come by to share your dinner, or did you have something else in mind?”
“Oh, I definitely have something else in mind. Do you think we should do the dishes first? Otherwise, they might not get done.”
I couldn't stop the smile I felt forming on my face. “There aren't enough dishes to worry about. We'll just throw them in the dishwasher. I'm glad you're planning to stay, though, because I have something else in mind too.”
Now his smile appeared, but it disappeared quickly when I led him into the office and pulled a large file out of my desk drawer. “I have a few questions, and you're just the person to answer them for me.”
He groaned and his expression darkened, but except for the initial groan, he waited quietly for me to continue.
“Let's say, hypothetically, you understand, that I have some information about one of our high-level elected officials, and that this information makes the official unfit for office. If I have financial information showing he's involved in several illegal businesses, evidence that he paid bribes to save his son prison time, and pictures proving he's a member of a club whose sole purpose is to provide prostitutes, would this be enough to get the official jail time?”
“I hate hypothetical questions! But in my opinion, such conclusive evidence would normally get someone arrested. The biggest problem may not be the evidence, it may be the ‘good old boys’ syndrome.” If this official were important enough, other officials might tend to accidentally on purpose misplace the evidence. These guys tend to stick together because they never know when they could be the one in trouble and needing help.”
“So, unless I have a way to keep his pals from protecting him, no evidence will be good enough?”
“I can't say for sure, since this information is hypothetical, but it's a possibility. We both know there are quite a few bad apples in local politics.”
“I kind of thought that's what you'd say. So, still hypothetically, if I had evidence proving a lot of good old boys were involved up to their eyeballs, and if I made them aware I was in possession of this evidence in advance, would that be enough to keep them uninvolved? In other words, I detail what I know and then tell them it won't get used if they don't interfere, but if they do, the evidence will become public knowledge. Would it be enough to back them off?”
“If what you have on them is real and they believe you have it, that should work. Do you want to tell me what this is all about? I don't often question you about your lifestyle, but this time I'm worried you're getting in over your head.”
“Not to worry. As I'm keeping a low profile, and all this is just hypothetical, you know.”
He started to say more, but I walked over and kissed him quiet. The unwritten rules of our relationship precluded pushing for information about each other's private lives, so he let the matter drop. We were finding it more and more difficult to abide by this rule. Only the fact that we both knew that anything else could end everything had kept us from prying deeper this long, and as always, it wasn't long until we'd both forgotten everything but each other and our mutual pleasure.