Chapter Five

 

 

It is always a good idea to have a business license when owning a business. It’s also mandatory. Most of the time it is easy to obtain, but it can be somewhat costly and time-consuming. Let us not forget the dreaded paperwork and, of course, the red tape that could take a colossal amount of time. Desiree and Camille did not have the time nor the energy to wait. What they did have was money and when you have the money, you have power and when you have the power, you do not have to wait.

It was amazing how the red tape quickly turned to green. They learned a valuable and expensive lesson as they left the downtown county clerk’s office. Getting things done the legal way took too long. Bribery was instantaneous.

Undergoing a criminal background check for each of them would have taken weeks if not months, and it was debatable if either would have passed. They were on a first name basis with most of the judges and lawyers at the courthouse. Having a list of various misdemeanors on your record does not fare well when trying to obtain a P.I. License no matter how minor the offense. For a mere ten thousand dollars, a background check was magically accomplished in a few short hours and, glory be to the gods, they miraculously had clean records. It was amazing how fast and wide doors swung open when motivated by money. 

Taking a two-hour examination covering laws and regulations, terminology, civil and criminal liability, and a crap load of other nonsense was accomplished in fifteen minutes. This miracle cost them five thousand dollars each with a small stipulation. They had to promise to study and become familiar with the required material on their own. They agreed, paid, and passed the exam without picking up a pencil.

All county fees were promptly submitted to the proper services for another mere three thousand dollars each. At the end of the day and sixteen thousand dollars in greased palms, Desiree and Camille had procured everything needed to call themselves Private Investigators legally.

Together they bought Richard Dames’ loft feeling drawn to it in a weird kind of way. They felt as if they owed him for their newfound success. It was here that they got their first client, so they decided to keep the name, Dames Private Investigators. The name was perfect for them; after all, they were two dames.

They purchased office furniture keeping Richard Dames antique pieces that added a touch of old class and style. Desiree went with a sleek, glass top desk with chrome legs and a high back, leather chair. Camille’s taste was a little more contemporary. She went with a cherry wood, executive style, L-shaped desk complete with a few drawers and cabinet space. Adding a few extra filing cabinets, abstract pictures on the walls, plush Oriental rug, the place started to feel like a friendly homey office in no time.

They opened a separate business account for their new P.I. business and transferred one million each into it.

Phone and cable services were installed. They had the place wired for security with high-tech surveillance equipment despite the fact that Noland swore the building was already protected by magic.

There were two extra rooms in the back. One they made into a conference room to interview clients and the other they decided to leave as a bedroom just in case they needed to spend the night.

They hit Office Depot and Costco energetically returning with enough office supplies and food to last them for months.

With the power of money on their side, they were up and running in two days. It was time for a well-deserved break, time to celebrate for working their asses off and being the proud owners of a new P.I. business.

Altitude Lounge was the perfect spot. Located on the 22nd floor of the Marriott Gaslamp Hotel, this nightclub had it all. A great view, loud music, gourmet food, and the best bar service in town. 

Desiree and Camille sat at the bar at one of their regular hangouts. It was here that Desiree met Liam; in fact, she sat in the very same spot when he walked over and smiled at her, so charming and gregarious. God, how she missed him. She would give anything to be wrapped in the comfort of his arms right now, especially after the interview from hell with the weird professor. She cringed every time she thought of it. If only she could erase Roman DePaul from her mind and start over. She would gladly do so.   

The last few days had been hectic with getting the business established. This was the first time they had a chance to sit down and talk. Desiree knew that forgetting Roman would be impossible because Camille would drill her on every detail from the moment she stepped foot in his office until she was in her car and driving home.

“How did the interview go with Noland?” Desiree asked steering the conversation away from her.

Camille wanted to tell her everything. She wanted to admit that she was wrong. She wanted to beg Desiree to forgive her for making such a stupid mistake and letting money cloud her judgement. She wasn’t drunk enough to do that just yet.

“The guy is a little strange.”

“Are you saying that I was right?”

 “No. I’m just saying that he’s a bit eccentric. He lives alone on a mountain on a massive estate. That could be part of his problem, and he could be doing all kinds of shit up there.”

“Illegal?”

“Could be, I didn’t take the time to look around but something is going on. It’s wired tight with security cameras everywhere.”

The bartender was taking his time getting to them. Camille wanted them to both be good and drunk before she admitted her mistake.

“He wears this horrendous ring with the head of a wolf on it. Says that it holds some kind of power.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Exactly! And that’s not even the freaky part. The ring is embedded in his finger right down to the bone. It’s not coming off unless the finger comes off with it.”

That was strange, but it did not come close to an ass spanked that sent you into an orgasm. “Disgusting.”

“You think? Most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m sure there’s a good reason.”

“Like what?” Camille asked as she waited for a logical answer.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s tired of losing his rings.”

Camille gave her an are-you-kidding-me-look. “I just think he has a problem. I mean, he’s a nice guy, but…”

“But what?” Desiree asked. She wanted Camille to admit that she was wrong about Noland Bauer. But as weird as he was, Camille could not say it. There was something about him that she found endearing.

It was time to change the subject; time to turn the conversation around before she told Desiree the story of vampires and werewolves that Noland swore owned business and lived all around them. She knew there was no truth behind any of it, only the wild imagination of a sick man.

Thank God, the bartender came to take their order. “Having your usual tonight, ladies?” He asked with a big smile on his face that kept the women happy and ensured his fat tips.  

“Two for me and keep 'em coming,” Desiree answered.

Camille nodded her head indicating the same. “Was he that bad?”

Now it was her turn to tell all. Desiree didn’t want to think about the man much less talk about him. She wanted to skim over the topic of Roman DePaul as if he didn’t matter. “Who?” She asked as she had already forgotten him.

“The professor.”

“He’s an ogre,” Desiree said with such conviction it raised one of Camille’s eyebrows and left her wondering what happened. 

 “He didn’t look like an ogre to me.”

“How would you know?”

“I Googled him. The man’s hot!”

“That doesn’t make him any less of an ogre.”

“O….kay,” Camille said trying to read the signs from Desiree’s tone and demeanor. She wasn’t getting anything, but she knew she would spill it all when it was too much for her to hold.

“We should start keeping files on everyone we talk to,” Camille added waiting for the shoe to drop. “We didn’t order those file cabinets for nothing.”

Desiree swung herself around in her chair looking the other way. All she could think about was Roman DePaul and the spanking he gave her. More importantly, the way it made her feel. An orgasm did not do the feeling justice, it was more than just an orgasm, it was an erotic moment of pure bliss that transcended any feeling she could remember.

Camille couldn’t wait any longer. She knew something was up.

“What happened?” She asked sitting back in her chair bracing herself for whatever horror story she would tell. Desiree had a quick temper and didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut most of the time. If she felt wronged, she had no problem letting you know. She was rude and downright crude at times, a loose cannon and a boatload of other names that always ended with the police involved.

Growing up, Camille often found herself at the center of heated debates bloody fights brought on by Desiree’s mouth. The woman had no filter when it came to speaking her mind. Not that she was any better but at least she took the time to arrange her words in a way that did not sting quite as bad.

“He was an hour and a half late.”

“So what? He was late. You can’t hold that against him. How many times have you been late?”

“That’s beside the point. I was on time for our scheduled meeting.”

“Big deal, Desiree. Let it go.”

Desiree could not let it go. If Camille only knew how badly she craved his touch. How her mind was lost in everything about him. His smell, his looks, his masculinity and the pleasure he forced upon her. She would never be able to let him go. That more than anything pissed her off. “He had the nerve to stroll in like it was no big deal.”

“I’m sure he apologized?”

Desiree grunted with disgust. “Something came up was his excuse. Like that made it all right to keep a person waiting. He’s a pompous, arrogant jerk.”

Camille was baffled. Plenty of men had kept her waiting for a lot longer than an hour and a half. Why the big fuss over this she wondered. “But the man is fine,” Camille said raising an eyebrow playfully.

Yeah, he was fine all right. She could not argue with that, but that did not make him any less of a jerk. What kind of a man goes around spanking women he just met?

The bartender returned with their drinks just in time. “Let’s toast to new beginnings and tolerance and realizing that no one is perfect,” Camille said holding up her drink. The women tapped their glasses together and took a sip.

“Did he at least give you anything useful- A lead or anything that we can report back to Noland?”

Of course, he had given her something useful; well… it was more pleasurable than useful. She was still trying to figure it all out. She couldn’t quite get a grip on how he managed to make her cum that way. She didn’t even like the man. Well, maybe just a little. “No,” Desiree answered flatly.

“Nothing?” Camille asked disappointedly.

Desiree shook her head, no finishing one drink and started on the next.

Camille’s ability to spot a liar worked on women too, so she waited. She knew Desiree better than she knew herself. Whenever she was this quiet and detached lookout, a bomb was about to drop, and then explode. To get the full story all she had to do was to give her time, so she took a sip of her appletini and waited. Something was coming, and it was going to be big.

“He spanked me,” She said innocently.

Camille choked on her drink. Clutching her throat and coughing like a mad woman as she tried to keep from choking to death. She was NOT expecting that. “You mean like an ass spanking?” She managed to get out between coughing and wiping the spilled drink off her clothes.

Desiree cut her with a hard look. “Exactly like an ass spanking. Is there another kind?”

Camille tried, but she couldn’t hold it in. She burst out laughing so hard it brought tears to her eyes. The day had finally come when Desiree Chase met her match. Finally, there was a real man out there who would not ignore her diva attitude just because she had a pretty face. 

Desiree managed to keep a straight face as she downed the second drink and motioned to the bartender for another one. She refused to let Camille’s antics get to her.

“I'm not finding the humor in it, Camille. I should have had him arrested.”

“But you didn’t. So that means…”

“It means nothing other than I’m stupid for not doing so!”

Camille fought hard to hold back her amusement, but it wasn’t easy. It took her a minute, but she finally got it under control. In her defense, how often do you get to hear that your best friend got her ass spanked by a total stranger?

“The last time I got spanked I got two hundred and fifty dollars for my pain and suffering. Did he at least pay you?”

Desiree didn’t say a word. She didn’t have too. Camille could see the anguish on her face. She got serious, but she wanted full details. “I’m sorry. Did he hurt you?”

“It was like he was taking his frustrations out on me. I thought he’d never stop.”

“You must have done something to provoke him?”

“He called me a bitch, so I slapped him.”

“Maybe you should take care of the administrative side of the business and leave the footwork to me,” Camille said.

Camille needed a blow by blow (no pun intended) account of everything. Desiree would view this as being nosey. If questioning someone for every detail of a situation made her nosey; then wrap it with a bow and present her with the gift of being the nosiest person alive. Hell, she was a private investigator and being nosey was just one of the many benefits.

This was all amusing to Camille. Desiree could tell by the way she leaned in and listened with full attention. You could not pry her away from the bar even if Marvin Gaye and Michael Jackson downstairs in the lobby. That’s how much she was into Desiree’s ass spanking story.

“Did he say anything while he was spanking that ass?”

“Not a word. Oh, he warned me to hold still, or he would make it worse.”

“Wow!” Camille breathed. “That’s actually kind of hot.” She went silent for a moment picturing the scene in her mind. “Okay,” She finally said quickly switching into business mood. “Tell me everything from beginning to end and don’t leave out a single detail. And, come to think about it, maybe we should make the professor a person of interest.”

Desiree did not believe for one second that Roman had anything to do with Grace’s disappearance. The professor was too smooth. He was more of a player than a criminal. She had run across his type plenty of times, a heartthrob with a little education, a few bucks in his pocket and mad skills with the ladies. She was certain that the professor could be crossed off the list of suspects, but she was equally certain that he was something far worse than a kidnapper, which made him a person of interest.

“I seriously doubt he had anything to do with Noland’s daughter.”

“You never know sweetie. And there’s no harm in adding him to our list.” Camille said running her fingers through her hair. She was grateful that Roman’s ass spanking trumped Noland’s ridiculous story about vampires and werewolves.

“There’s an actual list?” 

“Yep and he has the honors of being at the top. Someone had to be the first.”