BEE-0237
Honey Bare
by King Coral


HONEY BARE TAPE ONE

She was a passionate tigress ... and she wanted me!

“I’d like to try out my topless act for you, Lincoln,” she murmured, her
fingertips brushing the insides of my thighs enticingly.

Her hips swayed and moved sensually while her hand began unzipping her blouse.
Then she was slipping out of it — and my breath caught in my throat.

Honey was topless, except for the sheer black bra that hardly contained her
golden breasts. The rigid nipples threatening to break through the gauzy
material.

Suddenly she reached behind and unhooked the garment letting it drift to the
floor as her magnificent caramel-colored orbs sprang forth. Slowly, her hands
came up to cup and stroke them, causing the puckered nipples to jut out even
further.

Her glance was fixed on my face as she began to push the half slip down over
her flaring hips. Thrusting her femininity towards me with faster and faster
bumps, she moved just within’ my reach. And I suddenly realized that the
sensuality of the dance had actually gotten to her. She wasn’t acting anymore!

“Lincoln,” she moaned, offering herself to me completely, “I need to be loved —
now!”

Bee-Line Books Are Published by
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New York, New York


HONEY BARE
AN ORIGINAL BEE-LINE BOOK
Copyright © 1967 by Bee-Line Books, Inc.

Printed in the United States of America


Chapter One

My name is Lincoln Ice. After studying for more years than I cared to remember,
I’d finally passed the Bar exam. In fact, only this week I’d been sworn in. Now
I was a practicing attorney — without any clients!

It was Friday afternoon and raining in Los Angeles. While I waited for Suzy to
arrive I stared out the window of my apartment and watched the raindrops
hammering dents in the sheet of water that covered the streets. It was a good
day for auto accidents. With the rain and the slick streets and the upcoming
weekend, there would be a couple of hundred auto accidents in Los Angeles
County alone. And a couple of thousand bodily injury suits would be filed.

I felt like a guy with only a spoon instead of a shovel should it ever start to
rain silver dollars. I had a Law degree but my shingle wasn’t up yet, and I
hadn’t even connected with any law firm.

Then I heard the door opening behind me, and I saw Suzy. Whenever Suzy was
around I forgot all about my problems. I thought only of joy. Especially sex.

“Thank goodness, it’s Friday,” Suzy said.

Her dark eyes appraised me hungrily, as though I were the only man in the world
who could give her what she needed. That look alone always made me eager to
prove it.

“You don’t know how I’ve been waiting — for Friday, and you,” I said.

“I wanted to finish my packing first.” She pulled the little green scarf away
from her chestnut curls and then shook her head, like a filly that hates the
rain.

By that time I could smell the dampness of her hair and her perfume while I was
helping her with the raincoat. A moment later she was moving over in front of
the fireplace, lovely in her boots, miniskirt, and sweater.

Suzy said, “I need you to warm me up, Link.” She was embracing herself as her
hands rubbed her arms.

“That’s my girl,” I said.

Suzy really was my girl. She was also a model. She made a lot of money whenever
she worked. She was not the skinny type of model that you see in the women’s
magazines. Definitely not skinny. She had all the wonderful curves and lines,
and her chest was bountiful. Suzy modeled hosiery. She had the greatest pair’
of legs in the world; and she knew how to use them.

In a couple of hours she was leaving on her vacation. She had her jet ticket,
her reservations, and apparently she had her bags packed. The only thing she
didn’t have was a way to take me with her.

We’d discussed it briefly yesterday morning when she’d telephoned. “I’m
beginning to miss you already, Link,” she’d murmured. “What’s a sex-starved
girl to do?”

“Lay in a supply before you leave,” I’d told her.

“Oh, Link —“ after a short pause she’d added, “It might help at that. At least
it would be worth a try.”

“Let’s try it, Suzy.”

“All right I’ll come to your place. Mine’s a terrible mess. Right after lunch
I’ll be there.”

Now as my hands touched her shoulders she slid her arms around my neck and
snuggled against me. I could feel her shivering. But she didn’t feel cold to me
or against me.

I said, “I hope that’s passion, and not a touch of the flu.”

“It is,” she said softly.

I could feel her coming up on tiptoe as she offered her mouth to me. I let her
come up, all the way up; because it gave her an opportunity to rub herself a
bit more against the front of me.

“It is — what?” I asked.

My lips touched hers and then she was sinking back down again, rubbing
delightfully against me on the return trip, her mouth suctioned to mine,
bringing my head down with her.

Whenever Suzy used that rubbing action while we were kissing, she always forgot
to breathe! Suddenly she had to pull her lips away from mine.

“It’s not the flu — only passion,” she purred.

My hands slipped down the small of her back and I was letting them caress her
firm and rounded fanny, feeling the heat from her skirt burning my fingertips.

“I can tell,” I told her. “You’re on fire.”

“That’s the heat from the fireplace,” she said. She was becoming restless,
squirming and fidgeting about as though her panties were too tight for her.

I shoved my hand down between us, feeling almost the same degree of heat coming
through her skirt in front of her.

“Then how do you explain that, Suzy?” That set her off. She was pinned so
tightly against me now that it was almost impossible for me to pull my hand out
again. Not that I was really in a hurry to do it.

But Suzy was in a hurry.

“Link!” she said urgently, “I don’t have much time!”

Neither time nor tide nor scheduled airlines wait for those having quickies in
the afternoon. I knew this so I picked her up in my arms and carried her into
the bedroom.

It was a wonderful trip. Somehow the miniskirt had gotten all bunched up and
the backs of her bare thighs were rubbing against my bare right forearms. Along
with that, her tongue was doing all kinds of wicked things along the sides of
my neck and around my ear. Even in it.

When I got to the edge of the bed I simply dropped her onto it. She bounced, at
the same time already slipping out of her sweater. I pulled off her boots and
crimson socklets. Then I let her finish undressing while I shed my own clothes.

Now she was standing up in the center of the bed with her feet spread apart so
that she could balance herself. With her hands cocked on her lush hips, she’d
also shoved out her chest.

She was outlined against the undraped window, nine stories up and if someone to
the south, maybe at Wilshire, had caught sight of her through binoculars, his
eyeballs would have bugged out to smear up the lens.

Everything about her was fantastic, the way it had always been. Her full, hard
breasts were puffed up, the nipples stiff and needle sharp and tipped up so
much that if she’d have put her head down she could have touched them with her
tongue.

But her legs were the most exciting things about her, leading to the most
exciting thing that she possessed — the inverted V. Supple and, slim and
suntanned, they were poised now, pointing the way to her smoldering femininity.

I came forward slowly, and at the same time she stepped gracefully towards the
edge of the bed. Her waist was almost eye-level but I wasn’t thinking about her
waist at all. I was thinking about the joys that were just below. My hands came
forward and slid over her squirming hips. I tightened my grip on her and
brought her forward so that I could kiss her and let her know that I’d been
waiting anxiously for her arrival. And that set me off!

She was life and love, and all the delights that I’d ever known. Her hands were
at my head and hair, tugging at me, moving me against her, welcoming me, and
there was the joyous reaction that perfumed and smothered me and drove me
straight ahead.

The next moment I’d fallen forward and she’d clasped me tightly and held me
against her. Through the swirling scents that enveloped me I knew I needed her,
I had to possess her.

I beard her scream out delightfully, the same wonderful responses I’d heard so
many times before; and then I was moving along the creamy softness of her
stomach, feeling her shifting and squirming beneath me. I let my chest rub
against her damp and heated fluff, heard her react and rejoice at the brutality
of my passion as I rubbed my chest against her, feeling her long and delightful
legs stroking and scraping at my shoulders, then my sides as I moved upward and
onto her.

Eventually my mouth traveled up to her breasts. They were heated, swollen hard,
and at the same time sensuous. I dug my face into the valley, smothered myself
with the perfume that she’d placed there for me, and heard the throbbing of her
heartbeat against my eardrums.

At the same time she began rocking and shifting, rubbing her moist and heated
desire against the front of me, begging for me to hurt her with my strength.
And I wanted to. I wanted to do that so badly that it was an effort for me to
hold back. Suzy had come to see me. Suzy had come by because she’d been certain
that I could provide her with what she needed before she left on her vacation.
I wanted her to leave without any disappointments.

I picked her up, feeling the heated cheeks of her fanny spinning and squirming
around in the palms of my hands. I felt the wonderful thighs rub heatedly
against my ears, the sides of my head, clasping and unclasping passionately as
I drilled into the core of her passion.

There was darkness and the most exotic incense and then I heard her scream, her
wonderful shapely legs slamming against my eardrums. At the same time I was
becoming aware of the loosened heat and passion.

Suzy, Suzy, Suzy.

That was the only thing I thought about as I shoved myself forward, letting my
chest grind against her pulsing cushion on my way up the front of her.

Suddenly I found her mouth again, her lips and tongue jammed against mine. At
the same time her hot and restless legs were twined about me, guiding me,
banging me against her and into her. And then there was the invitation, the
arrival, and the complete envelopment.

“Lincoln! You’re so good — to me!”

I heard her, and I liked it because I felt big. I felt strong. I felt that I
was exactly what she needed. I meant to fulfill every obligation, every
promise. I meant to fill her.

I did, hearing her groan of delight as we slammed together. Her wonderful,
supple legs flailed about momentarily, then closing again, clamping about me,
snugging me tightly against her and holding me there even though I was trying
to move.

I fought her legs. I fought the anvil that was strapped around me. Her arms
loosened and she was wailing as the backs of her hands beat against the bed. At
the same time I felt her spasmodic pulsing against my manhood.

We rocked, shoved and pounded, and slammed against each other. Suzy was a wild
and reckless wench who was caught up in the lusts and fury that flamed through
her. I could feel her climax bursting hotly and I wanted to give her more. She
needed a fringe benefit she’d never had from me before. After all, she was
leaving on her vacation. And she’d come by to see me before she left.

I wanted her to leave, remembering me.

Now her thighs were clasped tightly against my sides and I was holding her,
bringing her up slowly as I drove into her.

We were rocking in rhythm and she was telling me how wonderful I was. Through
the fantastic confusion and heat and ecstasy we moved on to more exciting
plateaus. Once again she broke open and gushed her passion against me. Then it
was my turn and she knew it. She must have felt it because she was wild and
furious and completely uncontrollable.

My hands and arms clasped around her thighs, dropping down to her fanny, and
again I was holding her, lifting her, thundering into her. At the same time I
was becoming the biggest, greatest man that had ever lived.

When I hit the peak of my plateau it was a violent, over-powering force that
surprised even myself. I felt as though my backbone and the lower part of me
had broken through all the tensions and now I was free — completely free.

Suzy was on her shoulders and she was squealing ecstatically. I was on my toes
and when I came down there was about two-hundred pounds of thrust drilling into
a. defenseless girl that scarcely weighed a hundred and ten pounds.
Defenseless!

Suzy arched, calling for me to take her and we closed the show together in a
powerful and rumbling climax.

I snuggled down onto her moist and quivering young body feeling the wondrous
pleasure of her restless legs, tender arms and soft mouth. We stirred
eventually, but only because Suzy had to go.

She whispered, “I’d better leave now.”

“It’s a shame.”

“Not really.”

“Because I’m leaving with more than I expected. Much more than I’d hoped for.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You get most of the credit, Suzy.”

“Save a little for me when I get back, Link.”

“All right. Maybe a lot.”

“I couldn’t stand a lot. But I’d like to try.”

We finally got untangled, and when we were both standing up she said, “I’m,
going to help you become the best lawyer that ever passed the Bar!”

“Forget it,” I said.

I felt the quick rush of heat pouring into my face and I knew that she’d seen
my anger.

“Now what do you mean by that?” she asked testily.

“Forget it.”


Chapter Two

“I will not!” She was standing in front of me, her feet spread and her hands on
her hips again. But this time there wasn’t hunger in her glance — her eyes were
blazing.

Angrily she said. “Explain what you meant by that last remark!”

And so I did. Very quickly and without-demotion I told her that I intended to
make it on my own. I didn’t want her or any other woman to tell me how to do
it.

Of course, after that there were more words, many of them spoken heatedly and
cruel. And that’s the way her visit ended. When Suzy stomped out the door she
was no longer my girl.

While I was toweling dry after my shower I heard the phone ringing. I didn’t
answer it. I was positive it was Suzy, calling either to get in her last
stinging retort, or to apologize.

It rang again about ten minutes later. I tried to drown ‘out the sound by
flinging a handful of ice cubes into a glass. But while I was standing at the
window, sipping scotch and staring out at the rain swept world, the phone rang
again. Suddenly I realized that it couldn’t be Suzy calling. Her plane had
taken off a half hour ago. I scooped up the phone.

“Attorney Ice?” a woman’s voice asked.

“It is.”

“This is Sarah Leighton. We’ve never met but I need your help immediately.”

“Of course,” I said. “Would you like to make an appointment?”

“Can you come to my apartment right away?”

While she paused, waiting for my answer, I could hear the sound of music
playing softly in the background.

“Yes.”

“Oh, thank you.” I caught the quick sigh of relief. “You’ll understand why I’m
making the request when you arrive. Here’s my address.”

It was on Melrose Avenue, out in West Los Angeles, Apartment Seven. I scribbled
in onto a pad and promised her I’d be there in about forty minutes.

It was almost an hour later when I pulled up at the curb near her apartment
house. There had been an auto accident at the intersection of Melrose and La
Cienega; and with the downpour and the evening traffic, it had been a mess
getting through.

With my hands in my trench coat to keep it wrapped around my legs, I ducked my
head and ran from my car up to the apartment house entrance. It had about two
dozen units but it was a new building, and it had a lot of class. Apartment
Seven was on the second floor, up the stairway, outside entrance.

The sound of music inside was audible as I punched the door bell and waited. I
stood close to the door so that I was sheltered by the eaves. Then the door
opened.

She was a strawberry blonde with green eyes and she was wearing a pale yellow
minishift. Her arms were bare, her feet and legs were bare. And with the lamp
on one of the end tables directly behind her, I could tell that the rest of her
was bare too underneath the shift.

“Thank goodness you’ve arrived,” she said.

“Please come in.”

As I stepped inside I saw her stick her head out the doorway and glance about.
Then she closed the door and locked it with the chain.

“May I take your coat?”

I peeled if off and handed it to her and she took it over to a closet and hung
it inside. “Would you like a drink?”

“Scotch, if you have it.”

“You’re in luck, Mr. Ice.” She threw me a dazzling smile. “Would you like to
help?”

I followed her down the short hallway, enjoying the quick movements of her
legs. They were pretty good. Almost as good as Suzy’s. And then I remembered
our fight, and decided her legs were better than Suzy’s.

As I passed an open doorway I saw that it was a bedroom. There were a couple of
bags sitting on the floor, half packed, and stack of clothing was on the bed.
Apparently the rain was drying everyone out of Los Angeles.

And then we were in a kitchen. It was rather disorderly. With lots of soiled
dishes in the sink. “Isn’t this a mess?” she asked, as she brought out the ice
tray.

“I don’t mind,” I said, not wanting to agree with her and perhaps blow the
first client I ever had. Obviously it was going to be a divorce action.

She dropped the ice tray onto the sideboard and then her right hand moved an
unruly strand of hair away from the side of her face. “So am I,” she said. The
palms of her hands slid down the front of her, pressing the shift against her.
“I’m a terrible mess.”

She was trying to convince herself that the shift was soiled. It wasn’t really.
I couldn’t see any spots except the two little spots where her nipples were
digging into the cloth.

I had to get my glance and mind off her immediately. I picked up the ice tray
and broke the cubes loose. “You are Sarah Leighton, aren’t you?”

“Darling!” she squealed, “how rude of me. Yes I am. May I call you Lincoln?
Please call me Sarah.” As she handed me two glasses she smiled up at me. “After
all, we’re going to become very informal before the night’s over.”

She was standing close to me and as I looked down at her I saw that the neck of
her shift had dipped forward a bit. Without any effort on my part I was staring
down at her jutting pink breasts. They were set wide apart and the valley was
prominent. That gave me an unobstructed view right down the pink and bare front
of her.

“Oh fine,” I said, and then I concentrated on getting the ice cubes into the
glasses. How in the hell would I be able to handle a client like this in court?

But it wasn’t that at all. She gave it to me quickly while I was making the
drinks.

Sarah Leighton was convinced that someone was trying to kill her. A couple of
nights ago, while going across the street to pick up some things at a
drugstore, a speeding car had almost picked her off in the crosswalk. Last
night, as she was walking in a small part nearby, someone had shot at her. The
bullet had barely missed her, striking a tree.

Sarah was an actress and tomorrow morning she was leaving for Europe where she
was going to do a couple of segments in a TV series. She wanted me to stay with
her that night and protect her from whomever was trying to kill her. I handed
her one of the scotches, staring at her.

She’d mentioned nothing about wanting legal advice.

“Oh, thank you,” she said. “Come into the front room where we can sit down and
relax.”

We sat down but I couldn’t relax. I took the easy chair and she curled up on
the couch. Somehow the hem of her shift had slid up her thighs and somehow
those thighs fidgeted around a lot to give an occasional and fleeting glimpse
of the Y. First from the top, and now from the bottom I’d had unobstructed
views.

I liked it. And yet I didn’t. Something didn’t make sense — even though I
wanted to think that the sight of me had brought it all on. We all dream at
times!

“Sidney Griffin, the producer, suggested I call you, Lincoln. You won’t recall,
but I saw you on the set—the time you were doing a job for Sid.”

So that was it. Almost a year ago I’d done a job for Sid. His wife was being
unfaithful and he wanted proof so that he could divorce her. At the time I’d
been a private eye. Working just enough to pay for beans and board while I was
studying for my law degree. I’d gotten the pro for Sid and he was very
grateful. He’d promised to flood me with clients.

“I’ve got five hundred saved up,” Sarah was saying now. “I know it isn’t much
but I’d it if you’d take it for the night’s work.” She moved aside the big ash
tray. There were five one hundred dollar bills underneath. “Help yourself.”

I was ready to turn her down because the moment I’d passed the Bar I’d promised
myself that my private-eye days were no more. Never again. Stuff like that.

But at that time, while I was making the solemn promise to myself, the setting
hadn’t been the same. First of all there hadn’t been a Sarah nearby. Secondly,
she hadn’t been sitting across the coffee table from me. And thirdly, she
hadn’t been leaning forward, her hand outstretched and shoving the bills
towards me.

And I hadn’t been looking at the front of her shift, with the neck part dropped
forward by gravity, and within, the two luscious pink breasts, defying the
force of gravity because they were firm jutting cones.

I had to make the usual excuses. Get the police to protect you. It was too
complicated, she didn’t want to get involved, and she wouldn’t feel safe. Why
not hire a private guard that would be stationed all night at her door? Too
obvious, and she didn’t want any bad publicity at this time.

Now she’d suddenly straightened up again, her glance locked with mine as the
rim of her glass massaged her lower lip. “Besides,” she said softly, “ever
since I saw you on the set, I’ve been waiting for an excuse to get you into my
pad.”

I believed her and I had my answer. I picked up the five bills and shoved them
into my coat pocket. There wasn’t anybody trying to kill her. It was an excuse.
Apparently she wanted to lay in a supply before she took off for Europe. Like
Suzy, before she took off on her vacation. But Suzy, at least, had been honest
about it.

Sarah didn’t want to come right out and say what she was buying with five
bills. Maybe she was coy. Maybe she got her kicks doing it this way. It didn’t
make any difference to me.

After all what else is there to do when it’s raining in Los Angeles? On a
Friday evening.

I said, “Do whatever you planned to do. I’ll check the doors and the windows.”

“They’re all locked.”

A man had to keep up his strength. I said, “How about going out and having
dinner?”

She hoped to her feet and her face was radiant. “I’d love that! Do you know I
haven’t eaten all day? I’m starved! Fix yourself another drink while I dress.
Okay?”

“It’s a deal.”

She disappeared in one of the rooms and I went into the kitchen again. I poured
myself some more scotch,’ added an ice cube and then stared out the kitchen
window. It was dark now and it was raining harder.

It was an ideal night for a murder, I thought. Just like you read in every
crime thriller. Oh, that Sarah. That strawberry blonde had planned it
perfectly; But why fight it?

Fight it? I wanted to love it the moment she stepped into the kitchen. She’d
done something to her hair and her face was radiant, her green eyes sparkling.
She was some package!

She’d slipped into a knit dress the color of heavy cream that hugged her
figure, outlining the lush curves of her hips and the gravity-defying breasts
that were a solid ledge. The pumps made her legs look even better.

“I believe I have a date for the evening,” she said softly.

Through the downpour I drove to La Cienega. Because it was one of the best
restaurants we had to wait more than a half hour for a table. We had a couple
of drinks while waiting.

Sarah was witty, she was vibrant and I had the feeling that she was getting a
bit tight. She told me about coming to Hollywood, living at the Studio Club
while she tried to break into TV and bunch of funny incidents that had happened
on the TV stages. She had so much first-hand knowledge about the sex life of
the men and women involved in the entertainment industry that she should have
written a book. I told her that.

Her laugh was delightful. “And get sued?”

“The better to represent you, my dear.”

“You’re wonderful. Lincoln.” Her hand came up and covered mine, her touch warm
and exciting.

“Sarah!” a woman’s voice suddenly interrupted.

I felt Sarah’s hand leave mine and then I forgot that she was sitting next to
me and that a moment before she’d given me a great compliment.

The brunette standing at our table was stunning. She was tall and slender with
a mass of dark hair piled on top of her head. Her make up and long lashes made
her eyes look like those of a jungle cat. She appeared to be the regal Madame
of lust.

As I got to my feet I heard Sarah speaking to her.

“How nice to see you again, Nora. Lincoln, this is Nora.”

“How do you do,” Nora said. Her words were coated with honey and when her hand
slipped into mine I felt the quick pressure of her fingers. “How long has Sarah
been hiding you from me?”

Sarah supplied the answer. “Long enough, don’t you think?”

“Much too long, if you ask me.” Nora’s glance moved leisurely over me, and then
she pulled her hand from mine. “Please sit down, Lincoln. I must be leaving,
really.”

I said, “What a shame. I’d hoped you could join us.”

“Yes, do,” Sarah added.

“Oh no, I couldn’t. Although I’d - like to, I just couldn’t. But enjoy
yourselves, won’t you?”

And then she was leaving our table. She walked up the aisle, her hips swaying
provocatively. She didn’t look back she didn’t need to. Every man in the
restaurant, including me, was watching her leave.

As I settled down beside Sarah again I said, “Did you notice how I protected us
from Nora’s advances?”

“Yes,” Sarah answered a bit vaguely and then she finished up the rest of the
wine in her glass.

Obviously Sarah didn’t appreciate my humor. In fact, after that she was rather
quiet. I paid the check and we left the restaurant.

While we drove to her apartment, she sat close to me with her hand resting
warmly on my thigh. Since she didn’t mention Nora again, neither did I. I
decided that - although they appeared to be old friends, something must have
happened to make Sarah give her the chilly reception. Probably a woman-to-woman
thing. Like both showing up at the same affair, wearing the same gown.

“I believe it’s stopped raining,” Sarah suddenly said.

I still had the wipers going but they were beginning to squeak now because the
glass was completely dry. I turned them off. “The newscasters said it would
last all weekend. I guess they blew the report again.”

When I pulled up at the curb near her apartment house, the gutters were
scarcely running. We piled out of the car, I with my trench coat and Sarah’s
under my arm. Halfway to the entrance the rain began again. It seemed as though
the skies had opened up and the entire world was a shower stall. Instead of
putting on my trench coat, I grabbed Sarah’s arms and we ran towards the
stairway that led to her apartment.

We were both drenched to the skin by the time I’d gotten the key from Sarah and
unlocked the door. It was she who fitted the chain lock into place again the
moment we were inside her apartment. I just stood there, feeling the water
trickling down my face and legs, watching it wet her rug at my feet.

“Oh, darling,” Sarah said, “let’s get you out of your wet clothes immediately.”

That was the last thing that entered my mind. Even though I felt chilled and
damp and the rivulets of water were tickling my chest. Sarah’s knit dress had
been molded to her before but now with the rain, it was glued to her. It was
plastered against her hips and stomach and thighs, every line and crease
clearly outlined. So tightly was it stretched over her breasts that the pink
hue of her nipples was showing through the material and they were now about
twice the size they’d been in the shift. Their dark tints were visible through
the fabric, as though they were about to break the threads.

The only thought in my mind was to get her out of her wet dress immediately. As
my arms went around her and my fingers found the zipper at the back of her
neck, I said, “Ladies first. And right here, so we don’t get the rest of your
rug wet.”


Chapter Three

Sarah’s eyes had darkened, taking on the shade of emeralds. There was a fresh
bloom of color in her cheeks; and I could feel the surge of her shoulders as
she began to breathe heavily. I moved the zipper until it hit the end of the
track.

“It’s been so long,” she said in a very small voice. “Do you believe that?”

“I want to believe it.”

I was doing a deep-knee bend, my hands grasping the sodden hem of her knit
dress; raising myself up again and pulling the dress upwards.

“Suddenly I’m not chilled anymore,” she said.

I was watching the dress as it moved upwards, seeing it reveal the firm and
slender thighs, her skin glistening a bit with the moisture. Then I realized
she was wearing nothing underneath because the lovely strawberry patch
appeared, the droplets sparkling in the beam of the single light we’d left
burning.

“You’ll be fine,” I told her, moving the dress up and over her lush hips.

“So very long,” she was murmuring, her voice sounding strange and as though she
were on the verge of tears. At the same time she brought up her arms and I had
to move the crumpled dress slowly so that I wouldn’t bruise or hurt her hard
breasts.

“The time had been very lonely and so terribly aching — for me.” She’d paused
briefly to give her shoulders a helpful shrug. The dress slipped over the tips
of her swollen nipples. I moved it carefully over her head.

Her hands came up to help slip it over her ears and in these few moments I
relished the sight of her breasts, so passionately pink and turgid that the
nipples were angled towards the ceiling.

Together we’d gotten the dress off her. I flung it aside, she fluffed out her
hair with her fingers, shaking her head to make the damp strands swirl around
her neck.

“Now you,” she said urgently. Already her hands were at my tie, her fingers
working hurriedly, trying to loosen the knot. “I want to see you. I have to see
all of you. I must.”

I let her work at the tie. Then I shrugged out of my jacket and let it fall to
the floor, loosening my trousers, letting the weight of their wetness pull them
down my legs. I wasn’t watching my hands, I was watching her.

Her teeth were gnawing nervously at her lower lip as her breath came in quick
temp. Occasionally the tips of her breasts would brush up against my chest.
Because I was still wearing my shirt I hurried with the rest of my clothes down
below, bending only once to get rid of everything.

I heard her suck in her breath as I straightened up again. Then, as she threw
aside my tie, I opened up the front of my shirt, impatient with the time it was
taking because already she’d reached down and grasped me and was clinging
tightly, almost fiercely, as though she feared I might get away.

“I — I’ve got to have you, Lincoln. Now! Oh, yes!”

I sucked in my breath-sharply because the moment I’d put my arms around her and
drew her towards me, her grip tightened. With a deft movement of her hand she’d
changed course and I felt the quick flash of softness and heat as she stroked
me gently along the entrance to her channel.

“Oh,” she cried out. “Darling, darling—”

Fiercely she slammed herself against me, her arms lashing around my neck, her
hips a blur of movement. But with the difference in our height she’d not
accomplished what she’d hoped, and now, with her hot and eager mouth burning
kisses against my face, she was using her arms clasped around my neck to pull
her upwards.

Down below she was a flurry of erratic movements, banging herself against me
and finding it useless. Then her legs twined around mine, holding tightly
against me and she was completely off the floor.

“Please!” she wailed.-”Now!”

I dropped to my knees, holding her tightly in my arms so she wouldn’t fall
backwards because her arms had suddenly released me. I tried to let her down
gently, but she arched backwards and I heard the thump of the back of her head
as it hit the rug.

She grabbed me again and then, while she was groaning and muttering
unintelligibly, she zeroed in on the target, surging to meet me halfway. I
lunged against her powerfully, and went all the way in.

We were glued together, mouth to mouth. I felt the spasmodic quivering of her
stomach muscles, the heat becoming intense. Suddenly she erupted, becoming a
squirming blur of pink lushness that I tried to hang onto, tried to control.
But it was useless because she was fired by hunger and passion.

And then I was caught up in her intensity, feeling the exquisite surges that
buoyed me up and brought me down, each one more delightful than the last.
Suddenly there was a huge swirl of pinkness and a ringing in my ears as I hit
the top of the swell and suddenly crashed down into a seething ocean of crushed
strawberries.

Eventually I became aware of her labored sigh, hearing the breath gush through
her teeth and feeling the pressure of her breasts against my chest.

“You’ll never know — how I needed that, Lincoln.” Her legs let me know that she
wanted to get up.

“You’re quite a girl, Sarah.”

After I was on my feet, I bent forward. She extended her hand and I pulled her
up. Her hand squeezed mine. “Thank you for that.” She glanced about, noting the
pile of clothing and the room itself, as though she was getting oriented as to
where we actually were.

She smiled at me. “At least we got inside the door.”

“Where it’s a lot dryer.” I could hear the water gushing off the eaves.

Her glance was moving down the front of me, wavered a moment before she brought
it up again. “Now that I got you out of your wet clothes, I don’t know what to
offer you to wear.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Quickly she stepped forward, grasping me tenderly and holding me for a second,
her glance was on my face. “You’re too beautiful to wear clothes.”

“So we’ll be nudists.”

Her face brightened. “That would be fun. Could we have a drink, too, while
we’re nudists? Or isn’t that allowed?”

She slipped her arms around my neck as she willowed in tightly, looking up at
my face. I kissed her warm and seductive mouth and felt her respond down
below—soft and delightful surge.

“Hot toddies are best on rainy nights.”

“Mmmm,” she said. “It sounds wonderful. But I can think of another thing best
on rainy nights.”

“Do you know what old men say about it?”

“No,” she said, giving her shoulders a little shake so that her nipples
tickled. “What do older men say?”

“Take it easy on Friday night — because it may be raining on Saturday night.”

“That’s because they can’t do it two nights in a row?” she asked impishly.

“Probably.”

“But you’re not an old man, Lincoln. I can vouch for that.”

“So we can have some hot toddies then.”

“All right.” As she brought her lips to mine she welded her soft warmth against
the front of me. We went out to the kitchen and started fixing hot toddies only
because she’d interrupted our kiss abruptly and moved away from me.

It had been a long time since I’d mixed hot toddies but I’d never mixed them
while I was nude. And I’d never hoped to see the day when I could fix hot
toddies while a voluptuous nude sat on the stool at the breakfast bar,
chattering about the contract she’d signed, and how she was looking forward to
going to Europe.

I brought the two steaming mugs over to the bar, put one in front of her, and
then sat down on the other stool. “That’s right,” I said, “I just remembered
you’re leaving in the morning.”

She took a careful sip, smacked her lips. “That’s delicious. Yes, I’ll be
leaving in the morning.” Looking at me, she wrinkled her nose. “That means I
won’t be here Saturday night. You know, like the older men think?”

“That’s right,” I said.

“You’ve got it made,” she said.

The phone rang and she stared at me, her eyes showing fear as she sat
motionless and made no move to answer it.

“Want me to get it?” I asked.

She nodded, without saying a word. I followed the sound of the ringing and
finally found the phone in the bedroom where she’d been packing.

“Hello,” I said.

No one answered. The line was open but I could hear no one on the other end.

“Hello,” I repeated.

There was still no answer: Only the click of the receiver as someone hung up at
the other end. After I’d put the phone down I stood for several moments,
looking down at it and at the mess of clothes on the bed. The sight of her
nylons, bra, panties, and the two half-packed suitcases were stark proof that
Sarah was leaving in the morning. Then I remembered what had sounded like the
telephone ringing while we’d been on the floor. Now there was a caller who
didn’t respond when I’d answered I couldn’t ignore it.

Contrary to what I’d believed at the very beginning, Sarah might have been
telling the truth. To a certain point. Maybe she’d been bugged with anonymous
phone calls but I doubted whether her life was really in danger. Not the way
she’d reacted while we were getting out of our clothes.

As I turned away from the bed I caught sight of Sarah standing in the doorway.
Her hands were idly rubbing her stomach and I saw the shiver that rippled
through her lovely nude body.

She said, “No one answered, did they?”

“No.”

I walked over to her and put my arms around her, feeling her resist initially;
and then her arms were slipping around my neck, she snuggled against me and
held on tightly.

“I’m afraid, Lincoln.”

“Come on,” I said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Her glance fixed on my face, her eyes showing her concern. Then the corners
other mouth softened and her glance became tender. “Not while you’re with me —
and holding me.”

My lips went to hers, finding her mouth unresponsive, the soft skin of her back
cool to the touch of my hands. After I’d pulled my mouth away from hers I said,
“Do you feel chilly?”

She nodded. “A little.”

“Why don’t you take a hot bath and then crawl into bed? Get a good night’s
sleep.”

“I’ve got to finish packing.”

“We’ll do it in the morning. I’ll help you. Come on. A warm bath, and then to
bed.”

“No,” she said.

“Yes, I insist.”

I felt the quick and urgent pressure of her hips against me. “Take a shower
with me, Lincoln! I’ve never showered with a man. Will you do that?”

She was beginning to stir again, the restlessness becoming more pronounced as
she began to rub her bareness against me.

I liked it. It was a much better reaction than she’d given me when we talked
about the phone call/

“Let’s go,” I said. “Last one in is a dirty name.”

That made her laugh. “Oh, no,” she said. “We’re in this together. You
promised.” She slipped out of my embrace, and then, hand in hand, we walked
down the hallway and into the bathroom.

It was a small stall shower and after Sarah had adjusted the water to the right
temperature, we stepped under it — the two of us filling the stall pretty well.
There wasn’t much room to move around and for a while we didn’t try, merely
standing pinned together, embraced tightly in a kiss while the spray beat down
on us.

All her fear was gone again, and her skin was warm and wonderful to my touch.
Locked together, we let our tongues caress each other. Finally she formed a
tube with hers and my tongue was drilling erratically into its heated dampness.

Suddenly she broke away from me and her arms held me against the wall of the
shower. “From whom did-you learn that?” she was asking me now.

I shook my head. “I don’t think I learned it from anyone. I go for the trial
and error method.”

“You certainly have had a lot of women in your life, haven’t you?”

Thinks were definitely getting out of hand. Before they got completely out of
control I had to come up with another diversion.

“Probably not as many as you imagine,” I said gently. I picked up the sponge
and the soap. “Turn around and I’ll wash your back.”

She turned her back to me. I lathered it up well, finding it necessary to soap
up her sides and flanks and after while I was even reaching around her,
creaming a lot of suds over her wonderful breasts.

For several moments she stood motionless, with her head tipped slightly back,
as though she were enjoying my touch. Suddenly she took the sponge and soap
from my hands. “Now it’s my turn.”

I turned my back to her and she scrubbed it quickly and efficiently. As her
hands moved away from me she said, “I’m almost finished now.” She was all
business. No pleasure.

We finished up together, suffered through the chill of the cold water and then
we were out Of the stall and into the bathroom, toweling dry.

Up to that moment I’d been able to keep things pretty well under control. I’d
understood that the thing with the phone call had probably upset her; and I
knew that once women get upset, you have to wait a bit before all the little
complex pieces of machinery within them function normally again.

Now I watched her, seeing her double reflection the mirror as she bent forward,
drying the water off her legs. While she toweled briskly, her breasts moved
back and forth like pink and ballooned pendulums, the nipples relaxed and
looking like fresh pink blossoms waiting to respond to the kiss of the morning
sun.

I tossed aside the towel and walked towards her. She must have realized what
was on my mind because she straightened up quickly, her eyes darkening as she
stared at my face.

“Oh, Lincoln —“ she said.

She wasn’t trying to get out of my way; and she wasn’t trying to avoid me. She
was standing motionless, with her fanny pressed up against the edge of the
sink, one hand holding the towel at her side.

I watched myself in the mirror as I approached her. I could see her curved and
slender back reflected in the glass. Her hand swept a strand of hair away from
her chest, but she didn’t make a move to step aside.

“You’re much too lovely,” I said “to be ignored.”

By that time I’d closed my arms around her and pinned her against the edge of
the sink. As my hands began to caress the smoothness ‘of her back she let go of
the towel and I felt it settle onto my foot.

“I’m suddenly very weak and warm,” she gasped.

Before she could say anything else my mouth had covered hers and I felt her
cool soft body press tightly against me. Her tongue was drilling passionately
into my mouth.

I played it like that for a while, feeling her skin heating up and her lips
becoming puffed and voracious. Pressed hard against me, her hands began moving
erratically up and down my back.

I slid my hands under her arms and hoisted her onto the edge of the sink. Her
thighs opened up for me and, as I stepped between them, her legs rubbed mine
excitedly, her hands clenching my hair.

“Lincoln — I — I still have to pack tonight. Lincoln.

That’s when she stopped talking. Abruptly. Because I’d bent forward and now I
was feeding on her breasts, washing the nipples with my tongue, feeling them
responding immediately, hardening, the tips becoming glowing coals that were
beginning to pressure against my lips, defying the stabs of my tongue.

She was fidgeting and squirming, bouncing towards me along the edge of the
sink. The moment she’d reached the edge, I picked her up and carried her into
the bedroom.

I held her with one arm and with the other hand I reached down and pulled back
the spread. That dumped all her clothing onto the floor but she didn’t mind. It
wouldn’t have done her any good if she’d objected anyway.

Gently I lowered her onto the sheet, letting my hand slip between her thighs,
feeling them Opening wide, her hand coming down to cover mine and then move it
up and shove it powerfully against her. She was writhing and squirming as my
hand loved her, and then the moments were becoming unbearable for both of us.
She was rocking and pushing herself up, her treasure getting attention and
requiring complete fulfillment.

We came together in a powerful and cooperative movement. She squealed and
muttered incoherently; and finally she became a silent, wonderful pink machine
that knew only perpetual motion.

When it was all over, after a brilliant and lingering finish, she curled up and
went to sleep with a happy smile wreathing her lovely face.

The phone suddenly rang again and I snatched it up quickly. It was the same
routine as the last time. The line was open but nobody said a word when I
answered. Quietly I put down the phone again. With all the lights out I prowled
the entire apartment. Apparently the rain had been coming down steadily since
we returned because the gutters were full. The streets were misty and the
visibility was less than a block. Both the front and back doors of her
apartment were locked.

Carefully I slid into bed; and when my leg touched Sarah, she sighed sleepily
and turned herself into me. I put my arms around her, and I held her against
me. She slept soundly but I cat napped all night. Nobody came to kill her.


Chapter Four

The following morning I’d been awake for about a half hour before Sarah stirred
and broke out of the web of sleep. I’d been listening to a couple of cars going
by on the street outside. The way the tires were hissing on the pavement and
the water running off the eaves proved it was still raining.

For a full second Sarah stared at me wide-eyed as though trying to remember the
night before. Suddenly she sat up, her glance going to the clock radio. My
glance went to her lovely jutting pink breasts.

“Oh, I’ve still got to get packed!” she said.

She flung aside the sheet. The moment her bare feet hit the rug she was on her
way to the bathroom. I got up and shuffled out to the front room. My clothes
were still in a heap, just inside the door. When I picked up my trousers they
felt cold and clammy in my hands and they were a mass of wrinkles. I fumbled
through the rest of my clothes and discovered that they were all soggy and
damp.

“Will you take me out to the airport, Lincoln?”

Sarah had come out to the front room, moving quietly on her bare feet. She’d
washed her face, combed her hair, and she’d slipped into the same shift she’d
been wearing yesterday.

“Certainly,” I said. “How soon will you have to leave?”

“In a couple of hours,” she said. Suddenly her glance went to the heap of
clothing at my feet. “Oh, dear. I can’t even offer you a change of clothing.” A
quick smile replaced the concern in her face. “But you’ll have time to run home
for a fresh change.”

“No,” I said, “I made a deal. I won’t leave your side until you’re on that
plane.”

“I feel better now. It’s a, new day. I feel safe, with the doors locked.”

“I’ll help you pack, Sarah. And then we’ll stop off at my apartment on the way
to the airport.”

“I’ll be all right,” she said. “Please don’t worry about me. I’ll finish
packing while you’re out, and then we’ll both be ready at the same time.”

I wanted to believe her, I wanted to think that my first analysis of her had
been correct. There wasn’t really anybody eager to kill her. Then I remembered
the phone calls the night before. She hadn’t even been aware of the last one.

“Someone called again — after you fell asleep,” I told her. “But when I picked
up the phone, nobody answered. Same routine. Only silence.”

“Maybe it was Lee,” she said lightly. “He used to pull that on me.”

“Lee? Who’s that?”

“Lee Harmon,” she said. “My ex-husband. It probably shock him to hear a man
answering my phone.”

“Might he want to kill you?”

“Lee?” she laughed. “Not my ex-husband. Definitely not Lee. Now will you please
get out of here before I rape you again?”

I saw her glance moving slowly up and down the front of me and then I realized
that we’d been having our discussion while I’d been standing in the nude. I
picked up my trench coat and slipped it on.

“You’ve got to promise me one thing, Sarah.”

“I’ll promise you anything.”

“Keep the doors locked, and don’t let anyone into the apartment while I’m
gone.”

Her finger traced the outline of a huge X over her left breast. “I can assure
you no one will enter this apartment.” She smiled. “I won’t have time to talk —
I’ll be too busy packing.”

After I’d slipped into my wet shoes with some difficulty, I rolled the rest of
my clothes into a ball and shoes them under my arm. Then Sarah was holding the
door open for me and the sound of rain was filling her apartment.

I said, “I’ll be back as quickly as possible. In about an hour.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

The moment I’d stepped outside she closed the door after me. I remained there
for several seconds until I heard her slipping the chain lock into place.

And then I was trotting out towards the street, keeping the trench coat wrapped
around me so that my bare legs wouldn’t be too obvious. There wasn’t anyone on
the sidewalks, and at the moment there weren’t even any cars going by.

I slid under the wheel of my car. With the light traffic it didn’t take me long
to get home. After a quick shower and shave, I slipped into a new change of
clothes. Then I was headed back to Sarah’s apartment again.

During my absence a couple of cars which had been parked at the curb ‘were now
gone; and I was able to park much nearer the apartment house entrance than
before. The rain had continued to come down steadily while I’d been driving so
the moment I was out of the car, I ran up the walk. I bounded up the stairway
to the door of Sarah’s apartment.

The moment I hit the landing my right foot skidded on something slick.
Momentarily I was off balance, I lurched forward, my hands outstretched to
break my fall. The second my hands hit Sarah’s door, I felt it giving under the
force of my fall. I tried to recover but I was off balance and the next instant
I was stretched out on my stomach. The door was wide open and the sill of the
doorway was in my middle.

“Sarah!” The sodden knit dress was still on the rug but the front room was
empty. I jumped to my feet and sprint towards her bedroom.

When I got to the doorway of the bedroom I saw her. She was lying on her back
on the bed, in the center of the disheveled stack of clothing that she’d wanted
to pack. But where she’d gone she wouldn’t need any suitcase.

There was a nylon stocking around her neck. It had turned her lovely face into
a terrible sight. She’d fought her attacker, I could tell, because the hem of
her shift had worked itself lip to the juncture of her thighs. Then the thought
came to me that her murderer might still be in her apartment. He wasn’t.

A quick tour proved that there was no one there. Nothing seemed to be
disturbed. Her purse was still in the bedroom, closed, the way she’d left it
the night before. I didn’t touch it. I didn’t touch a thing. With my back
turned to her so that I wouldn’t have to look at her face I called the police.
I asked for Jenks, then I went out into the front room to wait.

I’d been away from her apartment slightly more than an hour. She’d promised me
not to let anyone inside and not to unlock the door. No one broken it open.
That meant that Sarah had known her caller and for some reason she’d let the
murderer into her apartment. Furthermore the sight of her caller must not have
upset her because she and her caller must have gone into the bedroom while they
talked. Remembering Sarah’s determination to get packed that was probably what
she was doing when the murderer picked one of her nylons off the bed and
strangled her.

She’d been murdered because I hadn’t really believed her, and I hadn’t done my
job. When the police arrived that was the way I explained it to Jenks. He’d
been in Homicide so long he only had a couple of more years to go before he
retired. I’d known him for a long time. His son had passed the Bar and had been
sworn in the same time as I.

Now Jenks was sitting in the chair in Sarah’s front room, staring across the
coffee table at me. I was sitting on the couch, the way Sarah had sat yesterday
evening when she’d offered me the five hundred to protect her from a murderer.
The police had checked for prints, taken pictures, investigated the entire
apartment and already taken Sarah away.

Jenks said, “So that makes you the prime suspect, Link.”

“I wondered how long it would take you to tell me that,” I said.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have any proof,” he said. “Until I get the results from
the lab.”

“I didn’t kill her.”

He nodded solemnly. “All right. But don’t try to leave town.” With a quick
smile he added, “Barrister. I may want to recheck a few things with you.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll be around. I’d like to check out a few things
myself.”

“We don’t appreciate that kind of help.”

“I know you don’t. Normally I wouldn’t get involved in this, but I feel
responsible for her death.”

“We’ll work on it,” he said. “Why don’t you go home, stay out of the rain and
just take it easy? No need for you to get wet, too.”

“Sure,” I said.

He got to his feet and then slipped into his wet trench coat. We left her
apartment together, walked down to the street, and then paused on the sidewalk
before parting for our separate cars. Jenks said, “I wonder who they’ll get to
replace her in that TV series?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t even thought about that. Is that your angle? The
possible motive?”

“You never know,” he said.

And then he was walking down the sidewalk towards his car, the back of his neck
tucked down into his collar to keep out the rain.

While I was driving back to my apartment I thought about the phone calls the
night before, trying to remember any minor thing that could tip off who might
have been calling. There hadn’t been any noise audible in the background. I
hadn’t even heard the sound of the caller breathing.

Last night the phone calls had frightened her. This morning she’d passed them
off a bit lightly, it seemed. It was strange that she had mentioned the name of
her ex-husband, Lee Harmon. Now I was glad that she’d told me about him. If
he’d been married to her before, he probably knew a few things about Sarah that
she hadn’t told me.

After I’d returned to my apartment I got on the phone. It took me a lot longer
than I’d expected but after a number of calls I’d finally acquired Lee Harmon’s
address. I slipped on my damp trench coat and went downstairs and got into my
car.

It was already mid-afternoon. Saturday afternoon. I was positive the police had
already checked out Harmon. Jenks had probably dropped by to see Lee himself. I
wasn’t optimistic about my planned visit and I didn’t expect to come up with
something that Jenks might have missed. But there was always a chance that
Harmon might mention a name or give me a lead that he’d forgotten to give the
police.

Anyway, I felt that I had to talk to somebody. I couldn’t sit around in the
apartment, stare out at the rainy streets, and forget that I hadn’t taken Sarah
Leighton’s story seriously.

According to my source, Lee Harmon lived in one of the new high-rise apartment
buildings that had sprouted up on Los Feliz within the last year. After I’d
found a parking spot at the curb I got out of the car and then squinted through
the rain up at the building.

Apparently every apartment had a balcony that faced to the South and from
street level the building resembled hundreds of cave openings visible on the
side of a steep cliff. I shoved open one of the glass doors and stepped inside.

Two men had been talking in the lobby. The one with the attaché case, hat and
trench coat suddenly turned away and walked towards the elevator. The other one
said, “I’ll take care of it, Mr. Harmon.”

“Fine.” He stepped inside the elevator and then the doors slid shut.

As I padded across the carpet the other man was waiting for me “Can I help you,
sir?”

“I came to see Lee Harmon,” I said. “I’ll grab the other elevator and take it
up.”

“Better take it down,” he said. “He’s headed for his car in the basement.”

“Thanks.” I hurried towards the elevator and punched the button. Fortunately it
was there, waiting to be used. I slid inside, thumbed the basement button and
then I was going down. The instant it stopped and the door slid open, I was
outside the elevator, glancing around the huge underground parking lot.

Over near the west wall I caught sight of Lee Harmon. He had tossed his attaché
case into a white Caddie and now he was slipping out of his coat. He’d just
placed it in the Caddie when I pulled up beside him.

“Lee Harmon?”

He whirled around fast, as though I’d surprised him. And for a man his size it
was quite impressive. He was heavy-set, with a square face and iron-grey hair.
His eyes were about the same shade as his hair — and they were cold and
guarded.

“What do you want?”

His voice was like gravel rattling over a board. That and the fact he had to be
in his late forties surprised me. Somehow I couldn’t visualize him having been
married to Sarah.

I said, “I’d like to talk to you — if you have a minute.”

“Oh, Sure,” he said, as though he’d been expecting me. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well, it’s a long story. If you’re leaving, maybe I’ll come back when you
return.”

Only his mouth relaxed. Not his eyes. They were still probing into mine. “No
need to do that,” he said. “I was just planning to drop by my office. I won’t
be there long. We can talk on the way there and back here again.” He was moving
to the other side of the Caddie. “Come on, hop in.”

I went around the back of the car. Harmon had the door open, and he was holding
it for me to enter. “Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

I leaned forward to get into the car. Then I thought the entire building had
suddenly collapsed. Right on the back of my neck. I felt myself falling, and I
grabbed at the back of the seat. I managed to get a grip and shove myself
upwards. At that second another blow landed.

It seemed much harder than the first one. Vaguely I realized that the building
hadn’t collapsed because I couldn’t smell any crumbling dust. It had been Lee
Harmon who’d chopped me in the back of the neck.

That was the thing that was running through my mind as I became conscious
again. The back of my neck and head ached and I was having difficulty getting
my arms and legs to move. It seemed as though I wasn’t as concerned about them
as I was about Lee Harmon.

I knew I’d been cursing out loud, even though I didn’t know whether he might
still be around. I was lying face down on a cement floor with my right
shoulders up against a concrete wall. I shoved myself to my feet and I was
barely able to squeeze my left shoulder past a car’s front bumper. As I
straightened up I realized that I was still in the underground parking lot
where I’d been suckered by Harmon.

As I twisted around and leaned forward over the hood of the car, I saw the
chick standing by the car door, watching me.

She said, “If you’re going to get sick, please don’t on my car.”

I swiveled my head around and studied the garage. There was no one around but
she and I. Harmon’s white Caddie was gone.

“Don’t worry about Lee,” she said. “He’s not around.”

Now I concentrated on her. She was a brunette, tall and slender in the
raincoat, a few brown curls peeking out from under her matching rain hat. Nice
mouth, with an impish smile. A few freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her
nose,

I asked, “When will he be back?”

“I would imagine some time tomorrow.”

As I shoved myself away from the hood of felt the pain jolt the back of my
head. I began to massage the spot. “Great,” I said. “That is just wonderful.”

“May I offer you an aspirin?” she asked, the humor putting sparks in her eyes.

“Why?”

“You seem to have a headache,” she said. “One that was apparently caused by
Lee. The least I can do is to help you get rid of it.”

It didn’t make sense. Why should she be good to me? I was a stranger who’d
crawled out from under the bumper of a car. I eyed her suspiciously.

“I’m Lee Harmon’s wife,” she said.

“Well, in that case,” I said. “I’ll take a couple of aspirins.”


Chapter Five

As I stepped around the front fender of the car, I felt the quick surge of
dizziness. The next moment I bounced against it, my hand gripping the rear view
mirror. She was at my side, gripping my arm, holding me and steadying me.

“Are you all right?” she asked. I caught the note of concern in her voice. Even
with the frown on her face she was cute.

I was honestly all right, the wave of dizziness having passed but I decided to
fake it. “Oh, sure,” I said. “I think I’ll be able to make it.”

Shoving myself away from the side of the car I began to walk unsteadily. She
remained at my side, with her hands grimly holding my arm. I liked that. I
liked the way she was repeatedly glancing up at me as we headed for the
elevator. I liked the smell of her perfume. It was an expensive scent, with
just enough spice in it to tingle my nostrils.

After the elevator doors closed and we began to ascend, she finally let go of
my arm. “There,” she said. “Just lean up against the wall.”

“Oh, yes,” I agreed. “That’s much better.”

Her glance locked on mine. “I think you’ve been faking it ever since I told you
that I was Lee Harmon’s wife.”

“Let’s forget about him. What’s your name?”

“Bonnie.”

The elevator had stopped, and now she was stepping out into the hallway. She
walked to a door a short distance from the elevator and dug a key from her coat
pocket. While I was brushing some of the parking lot dust off my clothes I told
her my name. The lock clicked and she shoved the door open. “I don’t remember
his ever mentioning your name, Lincoln.”

“He will,” I said.

After I’d followed her inside the apartment, she closed the door. “He never
discusses his business problems with me.”

“I didn’t realize I was a problem.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” she said. “Please take off your coat.”

While I shrugged out of it she asked, “What do you take with your aspirin?
Water, or something stronger?” Her hand came out to take my trench coat. Again
the humor was visible, little sparks dancing in her dark eyes.

I decided to play it straight. “Whenever I take scotch, the aspirin doesn’t
upset my stomach.”

“You should write copy for aspirin ads.” She took my coat and headed out of the
room. “Be a dear and light the fireplace will you?”

I didn’t do it immediately. First I glanced about, noting that the apartment
was furnished in ultramodern. Apparently Lee Harmon had a few bucks. The view
to the south was excellent, I was sure, had it not been raining. As it was, the
darkness and rain clouds had closed in, moving the mists into the streets and
there weren’t any lights visible. It was a good night to spend by the fire.

The gas fireplace was huge, with three large fake logs. In front of it was a
polar bear rug. The real McCoy. That figured. I could just imagine Harmon up in
the Artic, stalking the beast at temperatures of about, eighty below. But
somehow I couldn’t imagine him married to either Sarah or Bonnie. But you never
know.

After I’d touched the match to the gas and adjusted the flame so that the tips
were curling around the logs, I straightened up again. I’d noted that the
fireplace had been hot, as though the gas had been turned off recently.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Bonnie said.

I turned around and saw her coming towards me. She’d taken off her hat and rain
coat and she was now wearing a coolie-type jacket and a pair of silver capris.
With high-heeled pumps. She was carrying two glasses in her right hand. Her
left hand was closed in a fist.

She’d remarked that I should write copy for aspirin ads. I told her, “You
should model capris, Bonnie. On you they’re delightful.”

She smiled as she held out her left hand. “Thank you. Care for an aspirin?”

“Thanks.” I let her dump them into my hand and then I took one of the glasses
of scotch. She kicked off her pumps. In her bare feet she was about four inches
shorter but still tall and very slender. Not too much weight at her chest, but
all of her was supple and there were a lot of curves.

While I was popping the aspirins into my mouth and washing them down with
scotch, she settled down on the bear rug. Her hand patted the spot next to her.
“Come on, there’s lots of room.”

After I’d settled down beside her and we were both sitting on the rug and
facing the fireplace, I said, “I feel better already, Bonnie.”

“You can be honest with me, Lincoln. I don’t think he hurt you that badly.”

There was still a little pain at the back of my head.

“All right. Let us bare our souls.”

“Bare,” she said.

“Where’s Lee?”

“By now he should be in San Francisco. I already told you that he won’t be back
until tomorrow.”

“How did it happen that you found me, down on the cement floor, inspecting the
treads on those front tires?”

“I was on my way out. I saw you snuggled up against the wall, in front of my
car.”

“Don’t let me keep you from your appointment.”

“I had nothing planned. I was going to a movie. By the way, your shoes need a
shine.”

“I never get a shoeshine when it’s raining.”

She turned her head to look at me. Her lovely face was relaxed, and the eyes
were twinkling. “I suppose you think that I pickup every man that comes along.”

“No. Only those that need shoe shines.”

“I like you, Lincoln. You’re exactly what I need on a lonely and dreary rainy
night.”

She set down her glass; and then she stood up in one smooth and fluid motion.
She went to the couch, picked up two of the pillows and tossed one down to me.

“Live,” she said.

She was back on the rug again, sliding down with her feet towards the fire
while she shoved her pillow under the back of her head. I did the same and we
were lying on our backs, on the white rug, looking at the flames curling around
the logs. I could hear the ice cubes tinkling in her glass as she took a sip.

There wasn’t any music in the background and the apartment was very quiet. The
wind must have shifted at that moment because I could now hear the rain
splattering against the glass on the south side of the apartment. And Bonnie
wasn’t saying a word as she kept sipping at her drink. It was a time for
thoughts.

First of all, I thought about Lee Harmon. He’d jumped me without provocation,
as the Russians say. He hadn’t even known my name. Nor had he known what I
wanted to talk to him about. When I regained consciousness, his wife was there
and she brought me up to her apartment. She’d made sure that I knew that he had
gone to San Francisco and that he wouldn’t return until tomorrow. She’d also
given me the impression that she’d found me after Lee had departed and that
she’d been on her way to a movie. Conclusion: I was exactly what she needed on
a lonely and dreary rainy night. As she’d told me.

Suddenly she said, “I thought this was a time for baring the soul.”

“It is.”

“No questions? No third degree? No pass at the hostess?”

“Which do you prefer?”

“A pass at the hostess.”

 “How long have you been married to Lee?”

 “Too long.”

“Why?”

She laughed softly. “The drive to make a buck. The nights without him. All
alone. The nights with him.. When he plans his next hunting expedition. The
smell of cigar smoke in his mouth, in his clothes. The way he coughs at night.”

“It’s a nice place you’ve got here, Bonnie.”

“I’m twenty-one years old. Maybe I wanted too much too soon.”

“I know a couple of dozen girls that would be eager to trade places with you,
Bonnie.”

“Have them call him tomorrow night. He’ll be back by that time.”

“Did you know his first wife, Sarah?” I sneaked it in.

 “No.”

“Did he ever talk about her?”

“Negative.” She sat up quickly and then her hand was extended. “You need
another drink, Lincoln.”

She departed after I’d handed her my glass. Again the apartment was quiet with
only the rain gushing against the window’s glass.

Next step. Lee was gone until tomorrow. Until them I wouldn’t be able to talk
to him about Sarah. Apparently Bonnie knew nothing about Sarah or Lee’s
relationship with her. Maybe Lee had killed Sarah, and at this moment be was
getting out of town, out of the country. But that was Jenks’ job. My job was to
take care of Bonnie.

At that moment she returned with two fresh glasses of scotch. After she’d
handed me my drink she settled down onto the’ rug again, with her bare feet
stretched out towards the fireplace.

“I love the rain,” she said.

“Then why were you leaving the apartment? I remember you said you were going to
a movie.”

She didn’t answer for several seconds, and the rain beating against the windows
was very loud.

Then she said, “Because the rain makes me sexy. It gets bad, I almost go out of
my mind.”

“Well!

Now that I thought about it, it made me sexy, too. I turned my head so that I
could look at her. She was holding her drink on her stomach, the fingers
restlessly massaging the sides of the glass. My glance moved up to her chest,
noting that the front of her coolie blouse was rounded up a bit, but nothing
fantastic:

But her dark lashes were long and her face was very lovely. I remembered the
way her eyes had sparkled, and the spray of freckles on her nose. I couldn’t
knock it. I set my drink aside, off the rug and on the floor, so that it
wouldn’t get knocked over when the action started. Then I turned onto my left
side and took the glass from her hands. I placed it on the floor next to mine.

Bonnie hadn’t moved. Her hands were still resting on the flatness of her
stomach. This time, when I rolled onto my left side, my hand reached out and
went to the top button of her coolie blouse. Still no reaction from her. I
opened the top button.

I moved onto the next one, the one after that; and a moment later I’d
unbuttoned the front of the coolie blouse. I could see the dark strip of bare
skin down the front of her; and then I flipped both sides apart, baring her
from the waist to the chin.

Her breasts were dusky and the size of tea cups but they were poised defiantly,
the dark-circled nipples like black ball bearings. She was beginning to breathe
rapidly, her chest rising and falling spasmodically. The rest of her was still
motionless.

Gently I placed the flatness of my right hand on the lower part of her rib
cage, just below her breasts, wondering how she’d react to that. There was
marked shuddering and her hands slid away from her stomach and dropped to her
sides.

I slid my hand down the warm and soft flatness of• her stomach, until I’d
reached the top of the capris that were snugged around her waist. As the side
of my hand pressured against the tops, I saw her hand moved quickly at her
side, followed by the purring sound of her zipper.

Now the tops of her capris were no longer snugged tightly around her waist.
She’d opened them up and there was a lot of room. A lot of room for my hand and
I slid it down further, moving it under her waistband until I’d reached the
soft and throbbing cushion.

I covered it, pressuring my hand and fingers against It. Then she turned onto
her side so that she could face me. That put an end to my little project.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” she asked softly.

“I thought it was,” I said.

“I’m glad.”

She got to her feet again in that same easy and fluid motion, shrugging out of
the coolie blouse and letting it drop away from her shoulders. And then she’d
hooked her thumbs into her waistband of her capris, and as she bent forward,
she wriggled her hips as her hands shoved the capris down her long slender
legs.

Abruptly she sat down on the rug, skinning the legs of the capris off. She
pulled them free of her and tossed them aside. On her knees, she turned to look
down at me, resembling the girl on her knees in the soft drink ad.

“Now you’ve started something,” she said throatily, “that I’ll have to finish.”

She was leaning over me, her hands loosening my tie, getting rid of it. Then
she was moving swiftly down the front of my shirt, opening it up the way I’d
opened up her coolie blouse. Except she had a lot of little extras. Like
sliding her hands under the shirt and against my chest, rubbing my chest and
nipples and letting her fingers tug and stroke my hair.

When she reached my waist, where the waistband of my slacks was snugged a
little tight, I opened it up the way she’d helped me. A moment later one hand
was inside, sliding down the front of me, the other one tugging at the tops of
my slacks. I was up on my heels, lifting my butt off the rug so that the slacks
and the rest of my clothing would slip off easily.

With both of her hands stroking and caressing the front of me, I kicked off my
shoes, using my stocking feet to work the slacks down off my legs and feet.
Quickly I sat up and peeled off my socks, feeling the heat from the fireplace
warming my chest.

“All right,” I said. “Now we’re on equal footing.”

She was giggling as my arms went around her bare back and pulled her down on
top of me.

“You really swing,” she said, sliding across the top of me, her mouth settling
onto mine.

It was heavenly, having her stretched out full length on top of me, her weight
no more than a light blanket. Her hard and heated nipples were digging into my
chest while her urgent tongue drilled repeatedly into my mouth. Down below I
could feel her shoving and grinding herself against me and I was shifting and
shoving right back, wanting to appease the hunger that throbbed within her.

Suddenly she ripped her mouth away from mine. With soft and passionate
whimpering, her lips were at the sides of my neck, then my chest. Her tongue
was a heated and moist feather that moved erratically across my chest and then
traveled down my stomach.

I was trying to hold onto her, grasping at her arms and shoulders but she was
damp and slippery as an eel as she continued to slither down the front of me.

“The rain,” she said urgently, and then I could here her panting. “It shouldn’t
do this to me but it does. And I love it!”

I could feel the touch of her tongue and lips, along with the heat from the
fireplace. It was burning my stomach and thighs and groin. And then it seemed
as though the gas jet must have been turned up high because the lower part of
me seared with the heat.

“Bonnie!” I said sharply. I was murmuring her name repeatedly because she was
there and everywhere and she was bringing me more heat and delights than the
fireplace.

“Bonnie!”

It came out very loudly because I couldn’t control myself and then I was
fighting the ecstasy, but only for a few seconds, immediately giving in to it
and finding that I was squirming across the rug’s softness, shoving myself
towards her and the heat of the fireplace, and letting the heat and the touch
of both envelop me and wrap me in their completeness.

There were a few jabs of pain at the back of my head where the headache had
been before, but at the same time there were the jabs of exotic pain below, and
I was completely overwhelmed by her smothering heat and voracious hunger.

Vaguely I heard the wind lashing the rain against the windows. I thought I felt
the flames in the fireplace surge upward as though they meant to break out of
their confines. Just as quickly there was glowing warmth and completeness. I
was sinking down into the softness of the white rug and I was happy and
contented that I’d started something that she’d had to finish.

It took us a while to cool off again but finally we were slipping into our
clothes. Then, as before, we were sitting side by side on the huge bearskin. We
sipped at the scotch, well watered because the ice had melted long ago.

“Well,” I said, “I’d better be going.”

“So glad you came,” she said.

I got to my feet. “Don’t get up. I can find my way out, if you’ll reveal where
you put my trench coat.”

“It’s in my bedroom.”

I went in the same direction she’d gone when she’d taken it from me, and before
long I’d located the bedroom. I picked my coat off the bed, tucked it under my
arm, and came out again.

She was still stretched out on her back in front of the fireplace, smiling up
at me. “You’re a doll, Lincoln.”

“Thanks. Take care, Bonnie.”

As I opened the apartment door I heard the doorbell ring. Framed in the doorway
was the most exciting girl I’d ever seen.

She was as tall as Bonnie, slender and lithe, but the curves were more
pronounced. She wasn’t wearing a raincoat. Just a pair of capris and a sweater.
Her breasts were proud and large, almost unbelievable. High-heeled pumps.

“Well, if It isn’t my little sister,” I heard Bonnie remarking behind me.

Bonnie continued, “Come in, Honey. Meet Lincoln.”

As Honey smiled at me and stepped into the apartment, Bonnie came to her feet.
“Lincoln, this is my sister, Honey.”


Chapter Six

I closed apartment door and merely stared at her. She was running the
fingertips of her right hand through the mass of long and straight
honey-colored hair. With most of the weight on one slender leg, her hip was
cocked provocatively.

She had some of the same humor of Bonnie lurking in the depths of her dark eyes
but there the resemblance between the sisters ended. Honey’s breasts were
exquisite, huge sculptured cones jammed inside the dark sweater.

Bonnie asked, “What are you doing out in the rain, Sis?”

“I went to a movie. I thought I’d drop by and see how you were doing.” Honey’s
glance shifted over to me and made a quick appraisal. “I’d say you were doing
all right.”

“Lincoln just dropped by for a drink. He wanted to talk to Lee.”

“That’s right,” I said.

“I wouldn’t mind a drink,” Honey said.

“Don’t rush off, Lincoln,” Bonnie said. “Stay and have a drink with us.”

“All right.” I said, tossing my trench coat onto the couch.

“I’ll help you fix it, Sis,” Honey volunteered.

Together they walked out of the room. I walked over to the windows on the south
side of the apartment and stared through the glass. Except for the rain drops
splattering onto the balcony just outside the windows, I couldn’t see a thing
outside. The rain had really socked in on Los Angeles.

I turned my back on it and then strolled towards the fireplace, stretching out
on my back and using the same rug and cushion I’d used before. Then I stared at
the flames, the way I’d stared before. Only this time I wasn’t seeing them.

I was seeing only the deductive curved and outline of Honey’s figure
silhouetted against the brightness of the flames. A girl like that shouldn’t be
allowed to be out alone at night, I decided. Especially on a murky night like
this.

The two sisters returned a few minutes later. Bonnie was carrying two glasses,
Honey her own and they were talking softly, giggling about something that
Bonnie must have said.

I started to get to my feet.

“Don’t get up,” Honey said, “because we’re coming down to join you.”

The three of us stretched out on the rug and placed; our glasses on our
stomachs. This time Honey was next to me. We weren’t touching but I could feel
the heat from her seeping through my clothes and warming my side.

“Did you get your car fixed, Sis?” Bonnie was asking.

“Not yet.”

“Then how did you get in from the valley?”

“I took a cab.”

“Well, it’s nice to hear one of my relatives has a lot of money.”

Up until that moment I’d been sipping at my scotch, not paying too much
attention to what they were saying. It was sister-to-sister chatter. The usual
inside stuff not meant for strangers.

Honey was saying, “I’d hoped you might give me a ride home, Sis.”

And at that moment it wasn’t sister-to-sister chatter anymore. I said, “I’d be
happy to give you a ride home, Honey.”

Real quick Bonnie said, “Well, we pulled it off, Sis.”

Honey pulled her head around to look at me. She was smiling and her hand
gripped my arm briefly. “Don’t you believe her, Lincoln. We hadn’t planned it.
But I appreciate the offer.”

 “But do you accept?” I asked.

 “Yes.” She said it very softly and for a brief moment her glance held mine.
	“Very much.”

She swung her head around to look at her sister because Bonnie was asking about
the latest report from home. That shook me momentarily because my first
impression was that Honey was living with her parents. She wasn’t. They were
back in the Mid-west somewhere.

It was Honey who brought me back into the conversation. “Where is your home,
Lincoln?”

“Los Angeles. I’m a native.”

“Really? I haven’t met any of them.”

“I hope you’re not disappointed.”

There was something delightfully warm and frank about Honey. And she knew a few
things about timing. With her head turned again so that she could look at me
she inhaled slowly. Her chest came up and the two lovely mounds on top towered
majestically, like the highest peaks in the Alps.

She held her breath for a couple of seconds and then she exhaled again. The
chest went down some but her breasts were still as proud and eye-catching as
before.

She purred, “I’m not disappointed at all.” Bonnie said, “He thrives on aspirin,
Sis.” “Really?”

 “As long as he can wash them down with scotch.”

Reluctantly, it seemed, her glance left me, and she swung her head around to
look at Bonnie. “Then I’ll have to get some on the way home.’

“When do you start to work?” Bonnie asked.

“Tuesday”

“Good luck, my dear.”

“Thank you.” Honey was bringing her glass up as she sat upright. She finished
her drink. I had the feeling she was getting ready to leave, and so I knocked
off the little I had left in my glass.

“And thank you for the drink,” Honey said, getting to her feet.

I was up and standing beside her as Bonnie got off the rug. “I’ll add my thanks
to that, Bonnie, as well as the aspirin.”

“You’re most welcome, Lincoln,” Bonnie said. Her glance lingered on my face,
her eyes dark and every soft. “Drive carefully, won’t you?”

“I promise.” I walked over to the couch and picked up my trench coat. When I
turned around with it I saw the two sisters holding each other affectionately,
lips touched to cheeks.

Now as Honey turned away from Bonnie I asked, “Didn’t you wear a coat?”

“No,” Honey said. “The cab was waiting when I left my apartment and I
completely forgot it.”

“You can borrow one of mine,” Bonnie offered.

“We’ll manage.” I brought up my trench coat and spread a tent over Honey and
me.

“This is fun,” she said, snuggling her lush body against mine.

“It looks very cozy,” Bonnie said.

I thought I detected a bit of ice in her voice but I was already moving with
Honey toward the door. Then she added, “I doubt if you’ll need it, going down
the elevator.”

Honey laughed; “You never know.”

I did take the tent off of us as we waited for the elevator. Then it arrived
and the doors slid open. Honey waved back at Bonnie as she stepped inside.

Going down I said, “You love your sister very much.”

“Oh, yes,” Honey said. “We’re very close. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

While we were stepping out of the elevator and walking across the lobby we
talked about our families, as though we’d been friends for years. Then we were
at the door getting ready to step outside.

I put the tent over us again and we walked out into the pouring rain. Honey
snuggled up against me, her right arm around the small of my back. We walked
slowly because the sidewalks were wet and slippery. With each step I could feel
her luscious hip and thighs brushing up against mine.

You can’t explain it. I couldn’t explain it. But just that touch of her
accelerated the pounding of my heart. And started thinking about a lot of wild
things. Like wanting to see her and her big breasts completely nude, wanting to
get my hands on her, to feel her and pin my bareness against that lush and
seductive body.

Reluctantly I opened the door for her and she ducked inside. I ran around to
the other side, flung my coat inside, then slid under the wheel.

Honey said, “What a miserable night.”

“Maybe it’ll get better.”

She was watching me through the long, dark lashes as I pulled away from the
curb. “It can’t get any worse,” she said, and then she slid across the seat
until her thigh was pressed against mine.

“Where do you live, Honey?”

She told me she had a small apartment in Van Nuys, between Van Nuys and
Sepulveda Boulevards. While I crept westbound on Los Feliz so that I could
eventually get onto the Hollywood Freeway she told me that she could hardly
wait until Tuesday, the day she went to work.

“What do you do?”

“I’ve been existing on my unemployment checks,” she said. “Tuesday I start my
new job — topless.”

I’d been squinting through the rain-lashed windshield, trying to keep the car
between the traffic lines on the freeway. But I just had to turn my head now
and let my glance go to her breasts. The twin peaks were trying to break out
the front of her sweater.

“That I’d like to see.” Then I whipped my head away from her and concentrated
on my driving.

“Would you really, Lincoln?”

Her hand was gripping my thigh, the fingers fidgeting excitedly. “I consider
that a compliment!”

“I consider it a treat.”

I felt her hand still momentarily and I knew that she’d understood what Id been
trying to tell her. Her hand didn’t move away, and the fingers were resting on
the inside of my thigh.

Then in a low, husky voice she was telling me that she was a bit nervous about
her first performance in front of a live audience and the trouble she’d had
with her agent, and her routine. Finally she was going into detail, telling me
about what she’d planned.

According to Honey she wanted more than just a straight topless act where the
dancer comes on stage, flips ‘aside her bra and begins the dance. Honey wanted
something more because eventually she hoped to get into TV and movies. Because
those were basically art forms, she’d decided to make her topless act an art
form, too.

“I’d like to do my act for you, Lincoln,” she was saying now. “If you’re not in
a rush to get home, or you’ve nothing better to do, would you stay and let me
perform for you?” She’d turned in the seat; and she was looking at me, her
shoulder shoved hard against mine. “And give me your honest opinion what you
think of it?”

If I’d had something planned I would have forgotten about it because I had to
see Honey’s act I’d let her dance especially for me any Saturday night.

“It would be my pleasure, Honey. I’ll pick up some scotch at the first liquor
store we find, and then we’ll make a party out of it.”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “That would be fun.”

We didn’t talk much after that but she remained snuggled up beside me, her warm
young body molded against my side. There was a liquor store three blocks from
her apartment. I dashed inside and bought the scotch. We arrived at her
apartment a few minutes later.

After I’d parked, I scurried around the car, opened the door and let her step
under the tent. Quickly we went up to the entrance. Honey’s apartment was on
the ground floor. The building was old and in a rundown condition and inside
her apartment I saw that the furniture was faded and worn. It was a bachelor
apartment. It had a large room, with a small alcove for the stove and
refrigerator, and the bath. The couch along one wall apparently made up into a
bed.

“It’s not much,” Honey apologized as she hung my coat in the closet, “but I’ve
been unable to afford anything better.”

“In a couple of weeks you’ll be moving to a high rise.” I told her.

She was shaking the dampness from her hair and then the fingertips were combing
it sensually again. “I hope so,” she said. “I want so much to be a success.”

“How old are you, Honey?”

She smiled. “Eighteen. Does that matter?”

“No,” I said. “Why don’t we have a drink?”

“Yes,” she said eagerly. “And then I’ll dance for you.”

Together we made the drinks and then we clicked glasses and had a sip. Quickly
she said, “Now you just settle down over there on the couch. Make yourself at
home, Lincoln. I’ll just duck into the bathroom and get into my costume.”

“Fine,” I said. “As long as you get out of it in this room.”

She wrinkled her nose at me. “I fully intend to.”

She whirled around and then with the ice cubes tinkling in her glass she walked
to the bathroom, entered it, and closed the door.

I kicked off my shoes and settled onto the couch, leaning backwards with a
cushion at my shoulders. I sipped my scotch and waited. There was a small
combination radio and phonograph on the other she of the room. Three records
were lying on the frayed rug in front of it.

“Oh, Lincoln,” she called out the moment the bathroom door had opened, “would
you do me a favor?” No part of her was visible.

“Certainly.”

“I forgot to fix the lights. Would you turn out all those, except the one by
the couch? And tip the shade so that it will flood the center of the room?
That’s the best I can do for a spotlight.”

I flipped the light switch by the door and tipped the shade the way she’d
requested.

“Oh, another thing,” she said. “Would you put the record — it’s on the floor
and it had a blue center — onto the phonograph?”

I found the record she wanted, switched on the turntable, and a second later
I’d placed the needle in the outside groove. Then I trotted back to my ringside
seat, grabbed my glass and settled back.

“Thank you,” she said, but her voice was barely audible above the sound of
music. It wasn’t a fast rock and roll number, although it did have the jarring
beat. It was about half tempo, with rather a sensual rhythm, and the moment I
caught sight of Honey, moving towards the center of the room, I knew her act
would be a success. Tonight and every night!

She was still wearing the high-heeled pumps; but she’d exchanged the capris for
a skirt. It was black, its hem was about three inches above her bare knees and
it was snugged tightly to her hips and thighs. The blouse was sleeveless and
also black with a very sedate and high neckline. Her fantastic breasts shoved
out the material so far there was about a six-inch gap between her stomach and
the bottom of the blouse.

Along with that she was wearing long black gloves. As she moved about in the
center of the room, slowly removing her gloves, the long honey-colored hair
shimmered and swirled around heir shoulders.

She tossed her gloves aside and slipped out of her shoes. Now as she turned
around and faced me, standing in one spot. Her hips swayed and moved sensually
while her hands went to the zipper of her blouse, running it down the tracks.
Then she was slipping out of it, moving it off her arms. Gracefully she tossed
it aside.


Chapter Seven

Honey was topless, except for the bra that she’d been wearing under the blouse.
It wasn’t a costume bra with the usual frills and fringes, but rather an
everyday bra that women wear.

But on Honey it was special. It wasn’t really everyday in any sense of the
word. Black and sheer, it tried to cover all of her breasts. But there was just
too much for it to handle, and there were luscious mounds above the cups.

She was still facing me, letting her hips sway provocatively in time to the
music as she brought her hands up the sides of her face. For several moments
she let her fingertips sweep the mass of honey away from her shoulders, as
though getting ready for her bath but not in a hurry to get undressed.

Of course that series of movements only caused her breasts to surge forward
even more and strait against the restricting bra. And then, quite casually, her
hands were going behind her back. It took her a long and agonizing period of
time to get the hooks undone.

The wait had been worth it. I couldn’t see the back of her but I knew the
moment the hooks had been unfastened. The front of her bra suddenly shot
forward due to the pressure. Her right arm crossed her chest, just under her
breasts, and while she wriggled sensually out of the left shoulder strap the
tips of her lovely breasts were still concealed.

After that the left arm took the place of the right one; and she was finally
slipping out of the other shoulder strap. Now that her shoulders were beginning
to sway as seductively as her hips, she suddenly took the bra away from her
breasts and let it fall to the floor.

They were lovely breasts, the shade of light-caramel. Proud and magnificent,
they rode high on her chest, so heavy that it seemed impossible for them to
resist the force of gravity.

I remembered that I was holding a glass of scotch and!’ took a quick sip,
recalling my wish earlier that evening. I’d wanted to get a good look at her,
at her breasts; and now she was giving me more than just a good look.

Sensually her hands came up to them, to cup and stroke them, to massage them,
as though she were trying to obliterate the lines that the tight bra had made
on her soft skin. At the same time her head was thrown back and she’d jutted
out her hips, the tip, of her tongue beginning to lick at the full lips as
though she found the touch of her hands excruciatingly delightful.

It was a sensuous dance, but more than that, it was an exciting young woman
giving the impression that she was alone, within the safety and confines of her
apartment, disrobing either to retire or to step into the shower. Now I knew
why she’d worked out the act.

She was trying to convey that she’d come home, arriving in her street clothes;
and the scene was one of a sexy and passionate maiden on fire and lusting for
the touch of a man. And for a man watching, it gave the connotation of coming
unexpectedly into her apartment because she’d left the door ajar on purpose, or
watching her from next door because she’d deliberately moved in front of the
window where the shades hadn’t been drawn.

I’d never thought of myself as having the traits of a Peeping Tom; but Honey
was changing all that. Occasionally, as she turned her head either to the left
or the right, the tip of her red tongue moistly licked at one of the bare
shoulders.

While her hands continued to caress the lovely breasts they filled out even
more, the nipples enlarging and becoming stiff, their delicate pink hues
darkening to the shade of cherries.

Slowly her hands moved away from her breasts. Her palms pressed tightly against
the skin of her stomach as her hands moved downwards, slowly and passionately,
to stroke her weaving sides and flanks.

Suddenly she tossed her head back, as though the hunger had erupted within her
and the wanting was too much to bear. Her hand went to the zipper at the side
of her skirt, lingered there momentarily, and then moved away again. She gave
the impression that she might be afraid to remove her clothing because she’d be
unable to cope with the consequence.

But after a few bars of the music the hand returned to the zipper again. While
her hips moved and gyrated more noticeable, the hand began to move the zipper.
Slowly at first, and then with a savage thrust her hand moved it all the way
down.

Now both thumbs were hooked into the waist of her open skirt, forcing it over
her full hips. The top of the black sheer half-slip became visible as the skirt
began to move downward.

Seductively she began to slide it down her thighs, bending forward slightly as
she did that, her heavy breasts moving only slightly as she squirmed and
wiggled. The strands of honey-colored hair tumbled forward. As she straightened
up and kicked the skirt aside, the breasts were screened by the golden mist of
hair.

I found that I’d been squirming about on the couch, the drink forgotten in my
hand as I stared at her. Not too long ago it had gotten very warm in the
apartment; and I could hear the drumming of my heart as I watched her begin to
slither out of the half-slip.

Her glance was fixed on my face and I could see the tip of her tongue sweeping
erratically across the red fullness of her lower lips. Her eyes had darkened
and I found the heat flickering in their depths, her quick breath causing the
breasts to surge markedly.

With our glances locked I suddenly realized that the sensuality of the dance
had actually gotten to her. It wasn’t a routine anymore. It was no longer
merely a young woman who pretended that she was fighting the hunger and passion
that coursed through her.

At some moment Honey had become a slave to her own passion and now every
movement was natural, the sly techniques that every woman possessed and used
when she meant to have a man

I was positive of it. Because the moment the half-slip had fallen to the rug
and she’d kicked it aside, the record had ended. There was no more music; but
Honey continued her dance because she was completely unaware of the stillness
in the apartment.

She was now topless. She was a wild and wanton woman who squirmed her hips and
shifted her shoulders so the ends of her honey-colored hair could caress her
turgid breasts and stiffened nipples.

Down below she was wearing a G-string type of thing. It was not much larger
than an eye patch with the two elastic bands leading away from the groin like
two long fingers that clasped her hip bone. Her legs were long, almost perfect,
the thighs firm and the muscles ripply visibly under the caramel skin as she
twisted and rotated exotically.

She was even more exciting then I’d guessed; and as if she had read my
thoughts, she moved slowly towards me, stopping at the edge of the couch to
stare down at me through long dark lashes. She was close enough for me to reach
out and touch her.

That’s what I wanted to do, and I knew that’s what she ‘wanted me to do. Slowly
I brought my hand forward and let my fingertips move lightly across her surging
abdomen.

Her skin was like heated silk, and as my fingers stroked the front of her,
sliding across the patch and moving out toward her hips, I could feel the
shivers that rippled through her and increased the tempo of her movements.

With the tip of her tongue jabbing erratically at her lower lip, she moved and
swayed, stepping back demurely so that I could no longer touch her. Coming in
again, she let me stroke and caress her more. All the while she was teasing,
tantalizing, offering me the delights of her skin and then taking it away
again.

As she retreated towards the center of the room, I rolled onto my sides and set
my glass next to the lamp on the end table. Then I slid forward to the edge of
the couch. I was sitting upright with my feet planted on the floor as I waited
for her to return.

She watched me and she knew what I’d done. Then she was coming towards me
again, her hips not gyrating quite as much as before. Instead, she shoved her
groin forward, and with her knees slightly bent she moved towards me on bare
feet, her groin moving in slow and sensual bumps.

I waited, letting her come as near to me as she wanted. When she was about
three feet away she tossed her head. Then her hands were moving the storm of
her hair to the back of her shoulders. Her hands came down and settled on her
hips and she was bent back slightly at the waist.

Her feet began to move apart and then she came towards me, bringing the black
patch of the G-string closer to me, another foot nearer, and then she stopped,
offering it to me as she continued the leisurely and sensuous bumps.

I brought my hands forward, letting them lightly stroke the outside of her
thighs. I slid my palms up and over the flaring hips, let them slide down
again. This time when my hands traveled up the outside of her thighs they
stopped at the elastic bands stretched over her hip bones.

Gently and very slowly I let my fingers sink into her hot moist skin until my
fingertips’ were hooked on the elastic; and then I was bringing my hands down,
pulling the elastic along with them, arriving at the second elastic strand, and
hooking my fingers in it, too.

Carefully I pulled it downward, seeing the slack that had developed in the
black patch, watching it slowly separate from her and slip away from what it
had been covering. And now, as I pulled the elastic bands down her thighs, she
brought her legs together. With little tension on the bands, I stripped the
G-string over her knees and down to her calves.

Honey lifted one foot and I let her step out of it, then the other one. When
she was finally free of it, I flung it aside. Again Honey moved away from me.

With her head tipped back and the long lashes resting on her cheekbones I
couldn’t tell whether she was watching me or not. It didn’t make any
difference. I’d already shrugged out of my coat and now I was quickly getting
rid of my tie and shirt.

As I flung my shirt aside she moved towards me again. I managed to get my
slacks unbuttoned before she stopped in front of me; and now as I reached out
and let my hands stroke the insides and outsides of each thigh in turn, I could
feel myself beginning to tremble.

With a choked cry, she staggered a few steps away from me. The palms of her
hands were pressed tightly against her skin and she began to rub herself
roughly, mauling the hard and jutting breasts. As if hypnotized by her own
actions her head dropped forward so that she could watch them. Then she slid
her hands down the flatness of her stomach, angling them into the juncture of
her thighs.

She was swaying and writhing like a willow caught in the gale, with happy
little sounds bubbling in her throat as her hands massaged and caressed her
groin. She ignored me completely. I got to my feet, rapidly getting out of the
rest of my clothes. When I was as nude as Honey, she came towards me.

The hair had spilled across her cheeks and she was looking at me through
slitted lashes. The muscles at the sides of her neck were taut. She made a
tantalizing approach, pausing -often to shrug her shoulders so that the tips of
her breasts were stroked by the strands of her hair. Then she seductively
rubbed her silken thighs together.

Finally she was near enough to reach and my hands came forward, cupping her hot
hips. She was still teasing, moving backwards again — just out of reach. I
leaned forward touching the front of her lightly, letting my hands caress the
flatness of her stomach. She began fidgeting and squirming luxuriously, as one
of my hands rested on her hip, the other caressing the spot the patch had
covered.

The moment I touched her there I felt the shiver that rippled through her lithe
body. As her shoulders shot back, her groin shot forward and she offered
herself to me completely. Gone was the tantalizing and the teasing. Now she was
pushing herself hard against my hand and I loved the feel of her heated
moistness, the smooth-shaven silken skin jammed against my fingers.

“Oh, Lincoln,” she murmured, “That feels so good. Make me feel good all over.”

She was bent backwards in a slight arc, offering herself to me while I stroked
her. Then it must have been too much because she leaned further backwards so
she could shove herself harder against my hand.

I slipped my hand out and put both my arms around her waist, hands at the small
of her back. I had to brace myself to hold her upright, ramming the bottom part
of me against the bottom part of her. With her shoulders swaying uncontrollably
she mauled her femininity against me, the heat and wetness flaring the fires in
my loins.

Vaguely I found myself appreciating the fact that she was tall because her
heavy thrusting breasts were now only inches away from my face. The nipples
swayed erratically from side to side, resembling fresh cherries waiting for the
bite of sharp teeth.

But I didn’t bite them. Instead I caressed them with my tongue and lips, moving
from one to the other. I was making contact with them whenever she moved them
into my reach. Eventually she swayed and moved them less, arching her back; and
shoving her chest out. All sideways movement had stopped.

“That’s it!” she cried out. “Take them, take me—”

She didn’t finish because I’d bitten the left one, finding it hot and
rock-hard. I knew I had hurt her but the second I’d released it, she swung
herself around and offered me the other one.

“Again!” she begged. “The same, the—”

She gurgled ecstatically as I nipped it the same way. Then I pulled my face
away from her, and holding her tightly against me, swung her around and dumped
her onto the couch.

The moment she hit she became a five pointed star with her arms and legs spread
out, waiting for my arrival. I didn’t rush it. I came forward slowly, walking
in between her restless legs until the front of my legs were pressed against
the edge of the-couch. Her legs were lovely tentacles that slithered up and
down my thighs, rubbing roughly, trying to fasten about me and pull me down on
her.

It took a lot of will power but I stalled a moment so that I could look down
and relish every part of her. The mass of honey-colored hair spilled about her
face and her magnificent breasts were gorgeous candy mountains begging for
attention. Her hips twitched, surging and rocking around on the couch; and her
joy was a pulsating and moist invitation that I couldn’t ignore.

“Lincoln,” she was panting, “please. I’m yours. Take me! Hurt me! And do it
now!”

“Sure, Honey.”

Her elbows were digging into the couch, trying to hoist herself upright.

“You’re lovely, Honey,” I said.

“But I’m so hot! I can’t stand it! Don’t make me wait!”

I didn’t make her wait. I just leaned forward and then sort of let my hands
glide along the silken and moist texture of her thighs until my hands had
reached her hips.

She was wiggling herself across the couch, moving herself toward me, whimpering
incoherently, and shoving her hungriness towards me, lifting herself so that
everything would be easier.

It was so easy. When she slid towards me, I slid towards her — and then we slid
into each other. She was steaming, burning, and completely out of control.

I tried to hold her up by her hips but she had suddenly turned into a furiously
hungry animal that needed to be appeased. I let her down and then I dove
forward onto her, at the same time letting my weight drive into her, slamming
against her so violently that I hoped I hadn’t hurt her. I hadn’t!

She enclosed me with her arms and legs and I was deep within the honey pot,
immediately feeling the intense heat that flamed about me and throbbed
spasmodically.

I wanted to catch her mouth with mine but she was whipping her head from side
to side, groaning ecstatically, briefly motionless down below. Then the action
began again. I tried to nurse at her wonderful breasts. I wanted to sink my
teeth into the throbbing hardness of her nipples; but they resembled swirling
and whirling clusters of ripe cherries lashed by a hurricane.

It seemed as though a gale was roaring against my eardrums; and I was clutching
tightly to her, finding that I wasn’t able to keep up with her wild movements.
I powered against her and tried to match her violence and passion.

The moment she’d gushed the second time I finally became the master. The
seething honey had shattered the pot and spilled itself all over me. It was all
over the world. It was everywhere.

I flung myself at her, driving repeatedly into the luxurious and flaming core.
Now there was no more reason or thought, because everything was automatic.

There were the hammering and powerful thrusts which became more violent and
faster. I was deep inside. I was enveloped with honey. I was coated with it and
every second its heat and ecstasy became more unbearable. It was Saturday night
— and I was with Honey. With Honey. Honey, Honey, Honey.

“Honey!”

The golden chasm jolted and convulsed and then shot up to envelop me
completely. I welcomed it eagerly as I thundered into its very depths, where
the heat and the passion was most savage.

Deep within I found what I wanted and needed; and then I was helpless and
content, caught willingly in the raptures that were far more exciting than I’d
ever expected.


Chapter Eight

After a while, when our passions had somewhat dissipated, we ‘came back and
snuggled together on the couch. Automatically, it seemed, as we were lying on
our sides with out bodies pressed together, our lips meeting.

Our kisses were lingering and affectionate, yet stimulating because our lips
were still highly sensitive. We played around, kissing lightly, our tongues
caressing each other. Then her lush breasts probed against my chest, lovely
cushions — so soft and heated, the tips strangely hard.

I moved my head downward. Happily she wriggled and pushed herself along the
couch so that she brought her breasts up for my pleasure. I nursed. I nuzzled.
I enjoyed their wonderful softness and their perfumed dampness.

Eventually, and quite naturally, we shifted about, each surge moving us closer
together. The touch of her wonderful bareness against mine was an exquisite
feeling. It was like a lush and tropical paradise.

Finally the paradise became so inviting that we couldn’t ignore it any longer.
I came to her and she accepted me; and after that it was memorable minutes of
completeness. So complete were the minutes that when they ended we remained
pinned together a long time. We stroked and caressed each other and we found
the touches of the other still fantastic.

After we’d stirred around the apartment, I slipped into my clothes. Honey
wrapped her lovely figure in a robe. She was standing in the center of the
room, tightening the belt around her slim waist, her lovely bare legs and feet
visible.

“By the way,” she said, “how did you like my routine?”

“It was a wonderful success.”

“Thank you, Lincoln.”

“You’re very welcome. Very.”

“I like you, Lincoln. I like the way you made love to me.”

“Shucks,” I said, “it’s nothing. Any red-blooded boy would have done the same.
After seeing your topless. act.”

“No, I don’t think so. You may think I’m young and innocent. I’m young, but I
don’t think I’m innocent.”

“I agree.”

Her hand swept the honey-colored hair away from the side of her smiling face.
“Did you make love to my sister, Bonnie?”

“No.” I said. “What gave you that idea?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I just had the feeling that Bonnie might fall to
pieces with you around.”

“If she had, I would have been ready to pick up the pieces.”

“Can I fix you another scotch?”

“One more,” I said, “And then I have to leave.”

I walked over to the sideboard with her and helped her fix the drinks. She
asked, “Why don’t you stay all night with me, Lincoln?”

I picked up my fresh drink and took a good sip. Then I told her, “Don’t tempt
me.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” she said softly.

After we’d taken our drinks back to the couch we settled down on it. As I
sipped at mine I knew that I wanted to spend the night with her. I wanted to
spend a lot of nights with her. But at the moment I knew it wasn’t possible.

Although I’d forgotten about Sarah Leighton’s murder since I’d started watching
Honey’s routine, it was back on my mind again.

“How well do you know Lee Harmon?” “He’s Bonnie’s husband,” Honey said. “That
makes him my brother-in-law.”

“All right,” I said. “How well do you know your sister?”

She swung around her head sharply and looked into my eyes. “What do you mean my
that?”

“I don’t mean anything. Lots of times sisters don’t really know each other.
They may think they do, but they don’t.”

She was staring suspiciously at me. “Did you really go by my sister’s apartment
to talk to Lee?”

I nodded. “Because of Sarah Leighton.”

I was watching Honey closely, but there was nothing in her face or eyes to
reveal that the mention of Sarah’s name had shaken her.

“I don’t even know her.”

“She was murdered this morning,” I said.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Honey said. “Was she a friend of yours?”

“Sort of.”

She was looking down into her glass as she brought: it up for a sip. After
she’d swallowed she said, “Was she as good as I? Sexually, I mean?”

She wasn’t being serious about the whole thing and I couldn’t discuss the thing
sensibly with her. Why should I? Honey, with the lovely breasts and the
luscious body. Why should she be concerned with a lot of mundane things? Like
the murder of a girl who’d asked me to protect her.

“No,” I finally said. “She wasn’t as good as you. Sex-wise.”

Her eyes widened briefly, as though she hadn’t expected me to answer her at
all. “At least you’re honest, Lincoln, I like that.”

“And I like you, Honey.”

“Will you come back some time and see me again?”

“Is that an invitation?”

She smiled. “A standing invitation — or any way you’d like to have it.”

While we’d been talking shed squirmed around a bit restlessly. Now as she
shifted her shoulders and positioned them against the cushion, the front of her
robe fell open a trifle.

I could see the lush valley between her wonderful caramel breasts. The big
mounds were only partially visible but they were so seductive. I tried to
resist the temptation, but I couldn’t. I just had to slip my hand inside her
robe and cup the left breast in my palm. It was heavy and warm.

“Don’t stop,” Honey purred.

I didn’t want to stop. I wanted my hand to remain there all night and I wanted
to enjoy all the rest of her that went with that delicious breast.

But since this morning when I’d found Sarah strangled in her apartment, I’d
accomplished nothing in finding her murderer. Tomorrow was another day. I was
determined to take full advantage of it.

With her lovely breast nestled in the palm of my hand, my thumbs had begun
stroking the nipple. Immediately I felt the quick intake of her breath, the
nipple growing taut.

I didn’t really have to leave her now, I thought. Like Jenks had said, I was
supposed to forget about the murder. The police would take care of the matter.
It was an intriguing thought.

The police could be out in the rain, doing their best. I could be in bed with
Honey, snuggled up against her bareness. Or wrapped up in the warmth of her
heat and her blanket. And I would also be doing my best.

But there was always a day after tomorrow; and then I’d think back about
everything, and I wouldn’t be happy with myself. Reluctantly I pulled my hand
out Of the front of her robe.

I finished the rest of my scotch as I stood up. Then L set the glass onto the
end table. “I’d like to come back and see you, Honey. I’d like to, very much.
May I?”

Her eyes tightened. “What is it, Lincoln? Tell me what’s bothering you.”

I told her. I spent a few minutes telling her about myself, the request of
Sarah Leighton to protect her, and the way I’d blown it.

I finished up by saying, “I know it’s trite, and it’s ridiculous But you know
how they express it on the TV Westerns — A man has got to do what a man’s got
to do.”

She put her glass aside and then she was gliding to her feet. Her arms slipped
around my neck and then she had willowed herself tightly against me.

“Sure, it’s corny, Lincoln, but I don’t mind. I know what you’re trying to say.
I guess that’s why I like you.”

I knew I could kid around with her. I said, “I know why, too. You’re just after
my hot little goody, Honey.”

“Of course I am.”

Her hot little goody was pinned against, me. She wiggled a little down below to
make the pinning action that much better.

Then she smiled. “So when you’ve kicked the thing that’s bugging you, come back
and see me. Will you, Lincoln?”

“You can take bets on it,” I told her as I got my trench coat out of the
closet. “Even at ten to one odds.” I slipped into my coat.

Quickly she came across the room. We embraced again and her lips and body made
joyful promises.

She was still breathing fast as she walked me to the door. “You are wonderful.
Any man with that much sex and that much integrity should not be seduced a
second time. Go man. And then come back to me.”

I went outside, glancing back to see her wave before she closed the door. I
walked out to the curb in the pouring rain, and slid under the wheel of my car.

After I’d turned over the motor I sat there for a couple of minutes letting it
warm up before I drove away. I could hear the rain drops hammering on the roof
of my car, the stream of water running down my windshield. I turned on the
wipers, high speed, but they were barely able to keep the glass clear.

Then I turned on the lights and pulled away from the curb. I’d traveled only
about a half block when I saw the intersection ahead of me. Like numerous
intersections in San Fernando Valley, this one was flooded with a stream of
water.

In the center of the intersection a car was stalled with the hub caps covered
by rushing water. A man’s arm was extended out of the driver’s side window and
as I approached, he waved at me to push him out of the intersection. It
happened all the time. With the water that high, some of the dumb nuts never
slowed down. The moment they hit it at a high rate of speed it flooded out
their motor. For a second I thought about going around the car and letting him
sweat it out for awhile. But I didn’t. Good old Sam. That was me!

I entered the intersection slowly, feeling the force of the water shake my car
and I heard it banging up against the muffler. Gently I moved it forward until
I’d made contact with his rear bumper.

I accelerated slowly, shoving his forward. After I’d gotten him out of the
intersection I noticed that he was pulling over to the curb. I shoved down the
gas pedal to give him enough momentum to coast over to the edge of the street.

But at that moment he was waving again, motioning that he wanted to talk to me.
I kept on pushing over to the curb, and when we finally stopped I was parked
directly in back of him. He jumped out of the car and came back to me. I
cracked the window down, feeling the rain drops splattering against my face.

“My car won’t start,” he said.

“It’s probably flooded out,” I told him.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that either your wires, plugs, or distributor cap is wet. Probably
all three.”

“How do I get them dry?”

“Just wait a little while,” I said, “and then you try to start it again. If
there wasn’t too much water, it might dry out by itself.”

 “And if it doesn’t?”

“Then you’ll have to dry everything yourself. Your best bet is to get to a
filling station. Do you want me to stop at one and tell them to tow you in?”

He swung his head back and forth and stared dismally up and down the street.
“Nah,” he said. “I’d rather sweat it out. If you’ll show me what the
distributor cap is.”

“You’re kidding?”

He was shaking his head. “I’m not mechanical minded. Maybe it’s time I
learned.”

I didn’t especially want to give him a short course in auto maintenance; and I
wasn’t happy about stepping out in the rain. I decided to make it quick, and be
on my way.

“All right.” I turned out my lights and slipped out of my car.

He’d headed back towards his car but now he was even with my front wheel. He
stopped abruptly and turned around.

“I’ve got a gun,” he said.

It was true. He’d whipped it out of his trench coat pocket and it was aimed at
my chest. “Get up on the sidewalk,” he said.

Then I saw the light go on inside the other car. A man crawled out of it and
slammed the door shut. Now he was walking towards me.

“You bastards,” I said. I had to blink rapidly because the rain was beating
down on the top of my head and water was gushing into my eyes. I figured they
wanted my money. And maybe my car.

I’d performed my duty like Good Sam. Twice. The first time and the last time.

The one with the gun said, “Let’s take a little walk, Lincoln. Come on.” He
stepped to one side, the gun still pointing at me. “That vacant lot over there.
In the corner.”

I started walking, realizing that they didn’t want my money. He’d called me by
my name. That meant they’d been waiting for me until I cane out of Honey’s
apartment. I hadn’t been looking up the street while I’d let the car idle. Even
if I had, I probably wouldn’t have paid any attention to them.

The water was above my shoe toes; and every time I took a step my feet were
making sucking sounds as I pulled them out of the mud. Behind me I could hear
the two of them making the same kind of noise as they followed.

It was so dark that no one would have been able to see us from the street. I
couldn’t understand why they wanted me to walk to the farthest corner of the
lot. And then I knew, but I tried not to think about it.

Suddenly I was very cold and there was a heavy clump of fear huddled in the pit
of my stomach. Nobody likes to die. I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to die
because I’d done nothing that merited death.

The worst part of it was that I didn’t know when he’d pull the trigger.

I felt the prickles of fear spreading across my back and shoulders and I found
that I was holding my breath, getting prepared for’ the shock of the slug when
it came.

“That’s far enough.”

I froze, becoming a statue with my right foot to the back of me, the shoe
halfway out of the mud. Both of them came forward. When they finally stopped
they were so close to the back of me that I could hear them breathing.

I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to turn my head to see what they were
doing. When I’d pulled it around so that it was a quarter turn to the right,
the back of my skull exploded.

The next thing I knew my head was being rocked viciously back and forth, there
was a half dozen vague figures ghosting by in front of me, and the world was
spinning. With each blow to the side of my face it felt as though my skull was
cracking open even further.

The left side of my face and left eye felt strange and eventually I realized
that it was coated with mud. A lot, of it was in the left side of my mouth and
the gravelly dirt coated my tongue. Abruptly the blows stopped. I was slammed
forward. My legs were weak but I didn’t fall to the ground.

“Can you hear me, Lincoln?”

I faked it, not wanting to answer immediately. Vaguely I began to realize that
I hadn’t been shot and I’d been unconscious for a long time. I even figured it
out that one of them was holding me up; while’ the other one stood in front of
me, slapping me face to revive me. He slapped me again. Twice, and in quick
succession.

I tried to answer him but I had all that mud in my mouth and my tongue didn’t
want to function. So I merely grunted.

“You stay away from Bonnie and Honey. Do you hear?”

I heard but it didn’t make sense. Why?

This time the blows that rocked my head were really vicious. “Listen! You don’t
go back to Bonnie or Honey! Now say you understand!” I grunted.

After that they worked me over. In the gut, in the ribs, the kidney area. The
back of my head and my body felt like it was covered with a mass of open sores
sprinkled with salt and then set afire. The pain was unbearable and before long
I didn’t care anymore. I was so tired, I couldn’t resist. I couldn’t fight
back.

Eventually the darkness closed in and the pain disappeared; and I was happily
slipping into it, knowing it was more than the darkness.

It was a world that consisted of mud and it was cooling and soothing and it
welcomed me and gave me a chance to rest.


Chapter Nine

Time and space I’d lost track of both. It was impossible to tell how long it
had taken me to get from the parking lot to my apartment. My throbbing head was
filled with a jumbled mass of incidents, some real, some nightmarish. But now
it didn’t matter any more. I’d made it home.

My shoulder was propped up against the apartment wall next to my front door. I
was doubled over weakly as I dug the key out of my pocket. It was covered with
mud and I tried to dean it off the best I could before inserting it into the
lock.

As I twisted the key I felt the quick stab of pain in my right side. Grimly I
gritted my teeth, turned the key all the way and then I shoved the door open
and staggered inside.

“Link?”

I’d slammed the door shut behind me. Now I was leaning heavily against it. I
saw that the TV was on, tuned to one of the black and white late-late shows.
Nancy was coming out of the easy chair in front of the set.

“What in the world happened to you?” She was at my side now, holding onto my
arm and helping me across the room.

“A couple of guys beat the hell out of me.”

She was guiding me towards the bathroom door. “Let’s find out how badly you’re
hurt.”

The toilet seat was down and I slumped onto it. Already Nancy was gently taking
off my trench coat and I helped her get me out of the rest of my clothing.

When all of my mud-caked clothes piled up in a corner of the bathroom, Nancy
helped me stand unsteadily in front of the mirror so that I could inspect
myself. My face was unmarked; but the bruises around my rib cage and middle
were great splotches of angry red, beginning to turn the shade of purple.

Gently Nancy’s hands were probing my ribs. “Do you suppose they might be
broken?”

“I don’t think so, Nancy.”

“How about internally? Shall I call the doctor?”

“No. I’ll be all right.”

Hearing the concern in her voice and seeing her dark blue eyes staring back at
me in the mirror had made me feel better already.

 “I’ll fix you a hot bath,” she said. “That’ll fix you up fast.”

Her lovely face smiled encouragement; and the way the robe was clinging to her
elegant figure was better than any medicine. I grinned back at her. “I’d
appreciate that.”

“Sit right down here. It’ll only be a minute.” She helped me settle down on the
toilet seat again. She turned on the water, letting it run into the tub.
Bending forward like that had opened up the front of her robe. Inside,
suspended like two lush oranges, were her delightful breasts, moving slightly
as she adjusted the water. Silently I cursed the two guys for incapacitating me
momentarily.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s get you into the tub.” Together we managed it,
slowly and carefully. I slid down into the hot water, relishing its heat
seeping into my sore muscles.

After I’d stretched out luxuriously she straightened up and her glance moved
slowly over my body. “What a shame,” she said. “But you’ll be good as new. This
will warm you up outside. I’ll get something to warm you up inside.”

The moment she’d left the bathroom I closed my eyes and let the warmth of the
water work its therapy. Thank God, for Nancy. Thank God for all Nancy’s.

Somehow she always managed to turn up whenever I really needed her. Whether I
needed her encouragement, her companionship, or her sex, she seemed to be there
just at the right time. She didn’t have to. After a couple of years of marriage
we’d gotten a divorce.

We’d had a great sexual relationship while we’d been married. In fact, we’d
gotten along very well in every respect. Except one. Nancy just couldn’t wait
the years that it was taking for me to get my law degree. For her, life was too
short. It was enjoyed now, not tomorrow. And so the divorce.

It had been a divorce without anger, without recriminations. Ever since then
Nancy had dropped by occasionally to spend the night with me. The robe she was
wearing, along with a few of her clothes, remained in my closet. She lived in
West Los Angeles and worked for an advertising agency.

“Here you are, Link,” Nancy was saying now. She handed me a drink of scotch,
she’d also fixed one for herself. “This will warm you up inside.”

“Thanks, Nan.”

“Oh, by the way,” she said quickly, “congratulations on passing the Bar. I’m so
happy for you, Link.”

“I’ll drink to that and to you.”

She turned off the water before she sat down on the toilet seat. While I lay in
the tub, having my drink, she insisted I tell her what had happened that night.
So that she’d be able to understand all of it, I had to go back to the moment
I’d gotten the phone call from Sarah Leighton. I went through the entire thing
chronologically. But I omitted a few items. The intimate things with Bonnie and
her sister Honey, for instance.

Every once in a while Nancy got up and turned on the hot water tap. With the
heat of the water and the double scotch I was getting very drowsy. I didn’t
want to go to bed to sleep but after I’d climbed out of the tub and showered
with cold water, I was so weary I could barely stand up.

Nancy helped me into bed, pulling the sheet up to my chin. Before she’d
straightened up again, I was already asleep. When I awoke the next morning I
was aware of the comforting warmth of Nancy in bed with me. Outside my window I
could hear the rain continuing. I moved my legs and squirmed slowly around in
bed, finding that I felt much better than the night before. Silently, so that I
wouldn’t awaken her, I got out of bed and went into the bathroom.

Standing in front of the mirror I inspected myself. My rib area and the middle
section was a mass of black bruises. I let my fingers probe my ribs, then the
kidney area. There was no pain within it. My muscles were very sore and I had a
slight headache but I figured I’d live. I was especially grateful for that when
I noticed that Nancy was standing in the bathroom doorway. Her sleep-misted
eyes mirrored her concern.

“What’s the matter, Link?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

I was beginning to feel great. Nancy always slept in the nude and she’d crept
out of bed and carve to the bathroom without slipping into her robe. Framed in
the doorway, she was an exciting and elegant dusky figure with the mass of
jet-black curls slightly disheveled. Just enough. to make her look even sexier.

I glanced causally down the front of myself, noticing that the sight of her had
stirred me markedly. “I was just making an early morning inspection, Nan.” My
glance came up to meet hers and I smiled. “No problems.”

As I started toward her she retreated. “Now, Link,” she said, “please take it
easy. You need some more rest. Come back to bed and sleep some more.”

When Nancy spoke like that she meant it. No nonsense. “All right,” I said.
“Let’s go back to bed.”

She stepped to one side so that I could get by her. I went back to the bedroom
and slid under the sheet. I heard the toilet being flushed and a couple of
minutes later she was sliding into bed beside me.

I kept my eyes closed, faking sleep. She squirmed around a bit and finally got
settled onto her stomach. I felt the quick and pleasant surge of excitement
jolt through me; but I didn’t rush it.

Motionless and with my eyes closed I was recalling the other times that we’d
been in bed together, the stimuli and reactions between us that had always made
sex so wonderful. Outwardly Nancy gave the appearance of being a cool and
elegant woman, uninterested in sex to the point of being frigid. But after you
live for a time with a woman you soon began to understand her.

You soon begin to learn her wishes and wants, the most sensitive parts of her
skin and body. With some it’s the breasts, other the back or the hollow of the
shoulder, and so on. With Nancy it was her fanny.

Not only was hers sensitive, it was hyper-sensitive. Just a mere touch there
always set her off. And now, with my eyes closed, feeling the strength building
within me and my breath coming very rapidly, I plotted and schemed. She had
fallen asleep again, I could tell, because she was breathing slowly and very
regularly.

Feigning restlessness, I twisted about until I was lying on my right side and
facing her. She hadn’t that moved. After a couple of moments I squirmed again
and then my left arm had settled across the small of her back. She shifted
slightly, as though the touch had almost brought her awake but then she was
sleeping soundly again.

Lightly and slowly I was sliding my arm downward and at the same time I pulled
my arm towards me. That zeroed my hand on her vertebrates at the lower part of
her back. Gently I slid it downward, feeling the softness of her skin against
my palm and then the firm and rounded curve of her fanny.

My fingers tightened and I began to massage it, feeling her tighten and react
to my touch. Slowly she began to squirm and then she quickly shoved back the
sheet and flipped onto her back.

She turned her head to look at me. A smile lurked at the corners of her lovely
mouth. “You’re losing your touch, Link.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you’d never make a pass.” She turned onto her side and then she kept
on coming, sliding right on top of me. My arms went around her and snuggled her
breasts against my chest.

I said, “So you weren’t even asleep.”

“No, I’m pretty sneaky.”

“And sexy,” I added.

Her mouth came down to mine and for long moments we kisses avidly, letting her
lips stroke lightly, then pull savagely. Her groin was digging warmly against
mine. Suddenly her legs slid outside of mine and she was propped on her hands
as she scooted up the front of me, bringing her breasts even with my mouth.

Like dusky and sun kissed fruit they were suspended above me, waiting to be
tasted and savored. As she brought the left one down to my mouth, my lips
firmed on the throbbing nipple while my tongue moistened its pointed tip.

“I’ve never been in bed with an attorney,” Nancy said.

While she took the left breast away and substituted the right one, I said,
“Then you’re in for a treat.”

“I know that,” she said. With a happy sigh she’d suddenly let herself down even
more.

I was nursing on her delicious nipple and the sudden movement her lush breast
jammed it against my lips. She moved her shoulders and shifted them so
violently that she was mauling her breast against my face.

My hands slid down her back. I clasped her buttocks and dug my fingertips into
the firm and heated flesh. I felt her reacting against the pressure; and then
she shoved herself backwards, and I had to loosen my grip. Down the front of me
she was sliding now, her lovely hot tongue washing my chest and nipples, then
moving down the front of my stomach. Her little rumbles of delight had became
audible.

“You’re a poor weakling,” she purred. “So just relax and let Nancy do all the
work.”

“You’re getting old, Nan.”

“Why?”

“If you call this work.”

I tried, to relax but it was impossible. She knew exactly what I liked and how
I liked it; and her mouth and tongue were ecstasy and passion as they smothered
me and brought fantastic delights.

I squirmed around on the bed as my hands stroked her back and hips. She was too
far away from me so I rocked on my shoulders, clinging to her as I pulled
myself across the bed until I was able to nibble at the outside of her knee.

With the heat and the delights building up below, I tried to get under her leg
and around her knee but she was resisting the force of my hands. Caught up in
the raptures that jolted through me I gripped her thigh and pulled the leg out
from under her. She collapsed onto the bed, face down.

“Nancy!” My throat was clotted with passion and I wanted her the way she’d just
had me.

“What, Link?”

She had straightened up. Now she was on her knees, staring down at me. “Have
you forgotten? You’re a poor weakling.”

She pivoted on one knee as a lithe brown thigh moved above me and then she was
sitting astride my waist. My hands whipped up and I began to massage her
restless fanny. With the purring sounds bubbling in her throat, she began to
move towards my chest, letting her heat and hunger rub erotically against my
skin.

I kept pressuring her fanny, bringing her me and then, with a quick and
graceful move, she was sitting on my chest, facing me. All of her weight was
not on my chest, I could tell, and supporting herself with her legs, she let
herself downward.

With the blood boiling in my veins and booming against my ear drums she brought
herself to me. Then that was all blotted out by her heat and moistness, by
feeling her react joyously to my touch. Through the humid mist of ecstasy that
enveloped me I could hear her groans of delight, the nice things she was saying
about me, the things she had said so often to me while we’d been together like
this.

Nancy was beautiful and exciting and what made it even better was that we. knew
each other completely. Each of us knew how the other one would respond to a
movement and touch. I could tell that she was becoming extremely passionate,
that I was bringing her along to a high pitch; and I knew that in a moment or
two she would be completely ecstatic.

“Link!” she cried out, and at the same time she’d lunged away from me.

“Nan!” I said. “You’re the greatest!”

“No, no, no,” she was babbling, as she squirmed down the front of me. “It’s
you. You, you, you.” She had grabbed me now, holding onto me fiercely as she
looked down at me.

“I had to come back, Link! I need you —“

She paused because she was concentrating and I felt the heated dampness of her,
her exciting and awaiting feminity. Astride me, she guided and probed the

entrance; and then she suddenly dropped herself down on top of me.

“That’s how I need you!” she cried. At that second she fell forward. Her legs
were entwined around mine and we were locked together. Her arms had slid around
my neck, and our mouths were sucking rapaciously.

Now that we’d weathered the first exquisite jolt, we were content to heighten
the degree of ecstasy with our mouths. My lips were so sensitive that whenever
they touched hers; I felt her tightness squeezing powerfully, stroking and
caressing me as though she possessed a thousand little erotic fingers.

We made love like that for a while, trying to control the intensity of our
passion, letting it become more intense at the slowest and most delightful
pace.

But before long her convulsions were so pronounced that I couldn’t resist it
any longer. I was a mass of intense delights, and the pressure was demanding
release. I felt like a bow, taut and dangerous, the arrow fitted to the string
and the slightest touch capable of letting it fly.

With a loud groan Nancy pulled her mouth away from mine; and then with her
hands on my chest she’d pushed herself backwards until she was sitting upright.

“Link!” It was an agonizing wail that slipped through her clenched teeth. “I
can’t wait———!”

That was the signal which we both knew so well. She turned into a violent and
savage rider who bounced and pivoted and turned and screamed; and I was the
steed, trying to dislodge her. I arched and bridged and bucked with quick,
violent movements that made her squeal even more loudly.

I was running out of breath. I was weakening but at the same time I was
becoming bigger and more powerful, a huge mass of ecstasy that surged and
raged.

The passions constricted her and swelled me; and at that point the wonderful
heart-stopping moment swept over us. Suddenly I couldn’t see her distinctly
anymore. She was a blurred figure above me, her face contorted as the spasms of
delight tore at her and then she broke loose completely.

Far below me I heard the earth move and shudder and the chasm opened. Through
it came the terrible and power built-up intensity and it shot skyward.

I arched violently, my passion and strength powering her upwards and for
several delightful moments she was riding high, on the very top of the crest.
Then I dropped down again and she came down with me.

Exquisitely she was enfolding me, enveloping me with her sweetness and ecstasy.
It was a lush heaven of fulfillment.


Chapter Ten

Sunday morning breakfast turned out to be quite an occasion. Nancy made the
coffee. She’d always been able to entice the percolator to do its best. Since
our divorce, my breakfast coffee had never been quite the same. I broiled the
steaks, fried the eggs, fixed the potatoes and the toast. Nancy had a
half-pound top sirloin steak. I needed a pound and a half.

After we’d put that away, sitting at the kitchen nook next to the
rain-splattered window, I brought out the champagne I’d had in the
refrigerator. As I set out the two glasses and began unwrapping the tinfoil
from the neck of the bottle, Nancy said, “That is indeed an occasion.”

“It is. A month ago I bought the champagne. To celebrate my admittance to the
Bar. To celebrate it with you, Nan.”

“Sometimes I wonder if we should have gotten a divorce, Link.”

“Any regrets?”

I was pouring it into the two glasses. Her dark eyes were thoughtful. She said,
“Not if you’ll let me come and sleep with you, Link.”

“Isn’t it any good with anyone else?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never tried it.”

“Well, cheers,” I said. “Thank you for coming by last night. I really needed
you, Nan.”

She was out of her chair, coming towards me and then her arms were around my
neck. Even with our robes, I could feel her heat and softness against the front
of me. She kissed me long and passionately before she stepped away again and
took her glass from my hand.

“That was to let you know how much I needed you, Link.”

After we’d settled in the breakfast nook again I said, “You’re very
complimentary, Nan. I appreciate it. It gives me a lot of confidence.”

She had been staring down at her champagne.

Without looking at me she said, “I wish I could give you that in the Sarah
Leighton matter.”

It was the first time I’d thought about it since I’d staggered into the
apartment and found Nancy waiting for me. Damn those two guys. The moment I
thought about them again I decided that Lee Harmon had hired them. Instead of
going to San Francisco, he’d probably gone to. his office. Maybe he’d returned
and seen Bonnie taking me up to his apartment. Just to confuse the issue he’d
instructed the two guys to include both Bonnie and Honey in the warning.

Or did Honey have a boyfriend who’d seen us going up to her apartment? I tried
to fit that encounter in with the murder of Sarah Leighton but there seemed to
be no connection. At this point I wasn’t bothering anyone. And I certainly
wasn’t finding out who’d murdered Sarah.

Or had I? Was it possible that unknowingly I’d already met and talked to the
murderer of Sarah Leighton? Lee Harmon? Bonnie? Honey? Now I told Nancy, “I
don’t want you to worry about it, Nan. Maybe Jenks was right, I’ll just sit
inside, out of the rain, and let the police take care of it.”

“No!” Nancy said, and there was a little anger in her voice. “I know you, Link,
and you’re not the type that would do that. And I wouldn’t want you to.”

I sipped champagne. Then I said, “You’re sweet, Nan. Sexy, too, and you have a
lovely—”

“Wait a minute!” she interrupted. “I just thought of something, Link.”

I leered at her. “Whenever you’re ready —“

“Now be serious! Link — I know a woman, she works for the agency once in a
while. She’s an artist, free-lance, but occasionally we have her do some work
for us. Why don’t you go see her? She lives in Malibu. I even remember her
address.” And then Nancy gave it to me.

“What does she have to do with the Sarah Leighton murder7”

“Nothing! But maybe she can give you some information — the leads that you
need. Her name is Nora —“

“A brunette?” I interrupted.

“Yes,” Nancy said cagily. “As a matter of fact, she is. Do you know her?”

I figured I did. Vaguely I remembered hearing Sarah at the restaurant mention
that Nora was an artist. Now why did Nancy suddenly bring her into the whole
mess?

“I guess not,” I said, lying the best I could. “The Nora I know is a redhead.”

“She might be able to give you some good leads, Link.”

Damnit! Why did Nancy have to bring up Nora’s name! Was Nancy involved in the
Sarah Leighton thing, too, and was she trying to throw me off the track? No,
not Nancy, the woman I’d always found to be honest in everything she did. I
stared down at my champagne, trying to figure out why Nancy had even mentioned
Nora’s name.

I asked, “Why should Nora be able to give me some good leads, Nan?”

Nancy drained her glass of champagne and then got to her feet. “I can’t say any
more, Link. With the agency relationship and all, I think you’ll understand my
position. I think I’ll get dressed. I must be getting home.”

She departed to the kitchen and then I was stung there by myself, watching the
bubbles in the champagne as I poured myself another glass.

Damn that Nancy! She was just like a woman. If she’d been my wife I would have
beat the hell out of her. Funny, but if you’re old friends, you don’t do things
like that. So what in the Hell had she meant that Nora might give me some good
leads?

I brooded about it, sipped the rest of the champagne and peered out the window
at the rainy world.

“Well, take care of yourself, Link.” Nancy had just stepped into the kitchen.
She was fully dressed, and looking very slim and elegant in her boots and rain
coat.

“More champagne, Nan?” I slid out of the breakfast nook and stood up.

“No, thank you. I’ve got a lot of things to do today. Tomorrow is Monday,
another working day.”

She was looking at me. With the dark blue eyes and the jet black hair framing
her face, she was truly very lovely. I’d loved her because of that, once. Maybe
I still did. No, she was only a very good friend. I couldn’t hold a grudge.
Last night had proved it.

“Thanks again for coming by,” I said. “You’re all right, Nan.”

She smiled. “One of these days this young attorney won’t have time for me. But
until then, I’ll be dropping by. Cheers, Link.”

She turned on her heel and walked out of the kitchen. I could hear her muffled
footsteps as she walked through the front room, and a second later the door
opened and closed.

Less than fifteen minutes later I’d finished the champagne while I’d dressed.
Now I was stepping out of the apartment again, locking the door behind me. I
dashed through the slashing rain to my car and slid behind the wheel.

The seat covers were covered with mud and water; but I didn’t pay any attention
to that. I swung away from the curb and headed for Malibu. While I was driving,
I was already thinking about Nora, recalling the way the mass of dark hair had
been piled on top of her head and the way her hips swayed when she walked.

I wondered whether she’d even let me into her house. She did!

In the pouring rain, with the thick mist swirling in from the ocean, I’d leaned
long and hard on the doorbell. The door opened almost immediately.

“Come in out of the rain, please,” Nora said.

I stepped inside and she closed the door behind me. Beyond her I could see the
flames curling around the real logs in the fireplace. The windows facing the
Pacific were huge but it was like peering into a mass of steam. That held my
attention for only a moment. Now Nora got all of my attention.

Her perfume was dusky and subtle, not heavy, but it seemed to cling to me and
to tickle my nostrils. She was wearing a white silken robe and it contrasted
wonderfully with her rich brown skin. Her dark hair was a mass of shining
strands built upon a well-shaped head.

She stood almost regally in front of me now, with her head held erect, the dark
massacred eyes studying me warily. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?” she
asked.

“I got lost,” I said. “With the rain and fog, and all, your door looked like a
friendly port in the storm.”

“Then I’m honored. Scotch is your grog, I believe?”

“Right again.”

“Sit down, Lincoln. I’ll bring out the welcome wagon.”

The moment she’d disappeared I shrugged out of my trench coat and settled onto
the couch. From one of the other rooms came the sound of the clink of glasses
and the breaking of ice cube trays. After a couple of minutes Nora returned.
She was pushing a tea wagon that was loaded with ice, glasses, and booze.

She said, “You don’t really need to take scotch, if you’d like something else.”

“Don’t change now.”

“Very well.”

Expertly she fixed two drinks and then she brought a glass over to me. As I got
to my feet sue said, “Please don’t get up, Lincoln.” She extended a slender
bare leg to show me that she wasn’t wearing shoes. “I like to live informally.”

And with that she took her glass and slid into an easy chair on the other side
of the room. It was a production. As she leaned back in the chair she crossed
her legs seductively. The hem of her robe scarcely covered her knees. They were
smooth and rounded.

Obviously the belt around her slim waist was the only thing that held the front
of her robe together. There was a slit at her waist that widened as it traveled
upwards. By the time it came even with her breasts it had widened to from a
provocative V. The valley of her chocolate breasts was clearly visible.

After taking a sip of her scotch she said, “It must be very lonesome for you,
since Sarah left for Europe.”

“Yes,” I said. “That’s why I’ve been out in the rain. I was taking a ride.”

“She’s a charming girl,” Nora said. “It won’t be long before she’ll be a
successful actress.”

“How long have you known her, Nora?”

“Bow long?” She laughed huskily. “Probably forever, and yet, not really long
enough.”

As I watched her she turned slightly in her chair, then recrossed her legs
again. The movement had been deliberate. With the eye-shadow and the way she
was watching me through the dark lashes, she gave the impression of a cat
watching its prey. More than a cat, she reminded me of a tigress.

She’d crossed the right leg over the left one; and the right bare foot with the
dark tinted toenails was moving slightly, like a cat twitching its tail and
getting ready for the kill.

I said, “That’s about as long as I’ve known her, too.”

“Obviously she made quite an impression on you, Lincoln.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

After she’d taken a good sip of her drink she said, “Of course, you always make
a good impression.”

“Watch it,” I said softly. “Especially if you’re all alone with me in this
house.”

“I am. This is my private lair.”

She put down her glass and then got to her feet. It was a cat like movement,
quick and graceful. She padded across the carpet and then she bent over the
coffee table, reaching for a cigarette and lighter.

Before I could get to my feet to light her cigarette, she’d already
straightened up with lighter and cigarette in her hand. All that activity had
loosened the belt around her waist.

The two ends of the belt were hanging limply from the loops at each hip. The
front of her robe was open, exposing about six inches of skin and darkness
right down the front of her. The nipples were still concealed but her breasts
were mounded majestically, full dark ones and then there was the rest of her,
lush, exciting, and inviting attention.

I knew I was staring hungrily at her but I couldn’t pull my glance away. My
skin was on fire and the moistness flooded the inside of my mouth. It had been
bad enough the night I’d watched her walk through the restaurant. Now I
couldn’t stand it. Maybe she saw the heat in my eyes. Maybe she read my
thoughts.

“Oh,” she said suddenly, as though she’d just realized what had happened.
Deftly she pulled the front of her robe together and knotted the belt.

A second later she was sitting in her chair again.

“We’re not quite that informal around here.” Then she lit her cigarette.

On weak legs I backed up and sat down, still feeling the rapid pumping of my
heart. “Take it easy, Nora. I haven’t been feeling too good.”

“Oh? Have you been ill?”

“No,” I said. “You know. how life is — it had its hard knocks.”

“Yes,” she said. “But I’m sure you can take care of yourself.”

“I get by,” I said.

“I’m sure you do,” she purred. It was very complimentary.

“I understand you’re an artist, Nora.”

“I dabble. Would you like to sit for me sometime?” Her eyes slitted and she
tipped her head to one side and studied me for several seconds. “Yes,” she
added. “I’d like to get you into my studio.”

“I get awful cold with out my clothes, Nora.”

She laughed softly. “I would Imagine exactly the opposite.”

“Why don’t we find out now?” I asked.

I figured I might as well stop horsing around and get down to the basics. Ever
since I’d arrived she’d been offering herself, no matter what I talked about.
She’d done a great job of heating me up and I’d gotten to the point where I
couldn’t take much more.

After she’d studied me for a long moment she put down her cigarette and drink.
In one fluid motion she came out of her chair and walked towards me.

Softly she purred, “First let me feel your bone structure.”

“That’s a good idea,” I said, coming to my feet.

Her hands came up, reaching for my head; and I let her feel the outline of my
skull. “You might be better in clay. I sculpt too,” she said. Her fingertips
had hit the sore spot at the back of my head but I gritted my teeth so that I
wouldn’t react to her touch. There was pain but I wasn’t even thinking about
that. I was looking downward, right into the front of her robe. As she’d
brought up her arms it had opened again, so it of billowed out, and both of her
breasts were in full view.

They rode high on her chest, dusky mounds that were beautifully proportioned
and firm. The dark nipples were snuggled up against the inside of the robe; and
while I watched I could see them brushing up against the robe’s whiteness as
she moved her hands about my head. Her perfume was clogging my nostrils, a
strong animal scent that shot the blood into my loins.

“Yes,” she said softly, “you’ll do very well.” Her hands came down to my waist.
“Let me check the rib cage.”

As her hands slipped underneath my jacket I could feel their heat seeping
through my shirt. It was more than heat, it was like little jolts of
electricity each time she touched me. I began fidgeting, both because of the
pain from my bruises and the excitement that pounded through me.

Gently I unknotted the belt of her robe and then I slid my hands onto her hips
and pulled her towards me. She was completely bare in the front now; and I had
to have her dusky bareness jammed up against me. Roughly I slammed her against
the front of me, my mouth trying to hit hers. Her strength surprised me.

She broke out of my grip and then her right hand slashed downward, the
fingernails scratching the side of my face. “What are you doing?” she demanded
angrily.

“Nora —“

“Please leave immediately! I’ve never experienced such vulgar rudeness!”

The bitch!

That was the way she got her kicks, I figured. Sucker a guy along until he made
a pass at her, and then she used her claws on him. Maybe she used a whip, too.
It didn’t matter what she used. I didn’t want any part of it.

She was still pouring it on, telling me what she thought of me as I went over
and got my coat. As I picked it off the chair she was already opening the door;
and the sound of the rain was filling the house.

“Get out!” she said angrily.

The second my hands touched the coat I saw the key laying on the floor, next to
the leg of the chair. It looked like her house key. It had a thin strand of
wire attached to a piece of heavy paper. On the paper was written the same
number as her house number.

I let my coat slip from my fingers and then I was bending down to pick it off
the floor. Quickly I straightened up again, the key in my fingers and my hands
and the key covered by my coat.

I marched towards the open doorway and walked right by her without glancing at
her.

“And I never want to see you again!” She emphasized it by slamming the door
shut.

I raced through the rain for my car and got into it. While I was driving back
to my apartment I realized that I hadn’t been able to ask any of the questions
that had brought me out to see her.

I’d wanted to find out whether she might know any of Sarah’s friends or
enemies. Not only that, I’d hoped to discover why Nancy had asked me to go see
Nora.

I rubbed my cheek with the back of my hand and saw the little streaks of blood.
The only thing I’d accomplished was getting clawed by a tigress.

As I continued through the rain, the advice of Jenks seemed to make more sense
every minute. Stay at home and let the police take care of their investigation.


Chapter Eleven

The phone was ringing as I unlocked the door and stepped into my apartment.
Automatically, .I glanced at my wrist, wanting to check the time. My wrist was
bare. My watch was still in the bathroom, coated with mud. It wasn’t much past
noon, however.

“Hello.”

“The same to you, sleepy head.” Honey oozed honey right over the phone. “You
sure sleep soundly.”

“I’ve been up for hours. I’ve been out in the rain, and I just got back.’

“Then you’re probably ready for lunch. How about soup and a sandwich? That’s
all I can cook. There’s even scotch left from last night. Lots of scotch.”

Her voice was soft and sultry. Also very inviting. I suddenly decided that I
couldn’t stay in my apartment alone on Sunday afternoon. Now when I could spend
the time with Honey.

“It sounds wonderful, Honey.”

“Plus — I’ve got a fringe benefit. Just for you.”

She had so many of those I couldn’t guess which one she meant. “Tell me,” I
kidded.

“Last night — you were asking me about Bonnie and Lee. Remember? I might have
some information that will help you. You know, the reason Sarah was murdered?”

“That’s great; Honey. I’ll be right over.”

“Drive carefully.”

I drove carefully through the rain. When L arrived at her apartment house I
circled the entire block. I drove slowly and checked every car parked at the
curb, and on both sides of the streets. I couldn’t see anyone seated in the
cars.

I didn’t want to believe that Honey mist have baited me into a trap but after
the night before, I was beginning to get spooky. Especially now that Honey had
suddenly promised me information that she refused to divulge the night before.
Why the sudden switch?

After parking my car I got out and ran up to the entrance to her apartment
house. A moment later I was tapping on her door. It opened almost immediately.

Honey was radiant. There was a happy smile on her lovely face and she’d brushed
her hair so that it was a golden mist around her shoulders. Tight black sweater
and a dark miniskirt. High heels. The sweater was so tight it outlined her
magnificent full breasts and the miniskirt was very mini — halfway up her
wonderful golden thighs.

“Lincoln!” she squealed delightedly.

The moment I’d dosed the door behind me she’d thrown herself at me. With her
arms around my neck she was willowing herself tightly against the front of me,
her mouth hungrily taking mine and feeding on it.

A heated bolt slammed into the pit of my stomach and then it burst and
lightning flickered through my limbs. My lungs were screaming for air and with
great difficulty I pulled my mouth off hers.

After I’d gasped and caught my breath I said, “That was quite a welcome,
Honey.”

She rubbed the tip of her nose against mine. “It’s because I’m so happy to see
you, Lincoln.”

We were standing close together; and I could feel the heat of her feminity
searing me. I liked it; and I clasped my hands at the small of her back and
snugged her even tighter against me. She was leaning back slightly so that she
could look up into my face; but even with that, her lovely breasts were still
socked against my chest.

“And I’m very happy to see you again, Honey.”

“Do you know what?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“I’d like to stay like this for a couple of hours. But why don’t you take off
your coat?”

“All right,” I said. “Why don’t you fix the scotch?”

I felt her pressuring against my hands as she moved backwards; and reluctantly
I released her. “You can talk me into anything, Lincoln.”

And with that she turned and hurried over to the refrigerator. I took off my
trench coat as well as my jacket and hung them up in her closet. It was a nice
feeling, knowing where the coats belonged, and being greeted like that by her.

When I stepped up beside her I said, “Do you have a jealous boyfriend, Honey?”

She pulled the neck of the scotch bottle abruptly away from the rim of the
glass. Somebody was getting a short drink.

“I don’t even have a boyfriend, Lincoln!”

“Oh, come on, Honey. You can be honest with me.”

“I am being honest with you, Lincoln! Sure, I’ve had a lot of dates, I’ve gone
out with a lot of guys. But a steady — no.” She was watching me closely. “Why
did you ask that?”

I took the bottle from her hand, fed some scotch into the glass that she’d been
working on, and then I dumped some into the other glass. “Because,” I said,
“last night your jealous boyfriend didn’t appreciate the fact that I was here
in your apartment.”

 “What in the world are you talking about?”

I handed her a glass. “Cheers, Honey.” After we’d clicked and had a sip I said,
“Two guys were waiting for me last night.” And then quickly I told her the rest
of it.

 “Oh, Lincoln,” she said her hand resting on my arm. “They didn’t hurt you, did
	they?”

“Enough,” I said. I felt the anger rising within me as I remembered the things
they’d done to me. “Now you tell me why someone wants me to stay away from you
and Bonnie.”

I saw the hurt in her eyes and now I was sorry that I’d said it. But maybe it
was best to clear the air immediately. She was staring at me, shaking her head
slowly and disbelief was in her eyes. “Oh, no,” she said. “You don’t think that
I —“

“No, I don’t, Honey. I am convinced that you didn’t know Sarah. But what about
Bonnie and Lee?”

She took her drink and went over to the couch and sat down without saying a
word. I took my drink sat down beside her.

“Lincoln,” she said, “last night you asked me about my sister and Lee. I didn’t
tell you a thing. But I thought about it, after you’d gone.”

She pulled her legs under her and then she was turned, looking at me. “I think
I know who killed Sarah Leighton,” she said.

I just stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

“It was probably Lee Harmon.”

I nodded. “The motive?”

“Well,” Honey said, “I remember a few things Bonnie told me in the past. You
know, sister-to-sister stuff. Lee was married to Sarah before they got a
divorce. He was supposed to pay her a lot of alimony every month. But you know
Lee. He didn’t. He was behind on his payments. It was quite a chunk. According
to Bonnie, Sarah went to her attorney before she left — or was hoping to —
leave for Europe. She was going to start legal action to get the money Lee
Harmon owed her.”

“How much did he owe her?” Honey shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m sure Bonnie
doesn’t even know. He doesn’t confide in her, really.”

“Is Lee jealous?”

“Oh,” she said, “they must have hurt you very badly, Lincoln.” When she
realized that I wasn’t going to answer she said, “Things aren’t the best —
between my sister and Lee. He doesn’t take care of her — sexually. Do you know
what I mean?”

I took a long and deliberate sip of my scotch because I knew exactly what she
meant but I didn’t want to tell her that. Finally I said, “Oh.”

But at the same time I was remembering the way Lee Harmon had jumped me beside
his Caddie. Honey had called it, as far as Bonnie was concerned. Maybe she was
batting a thousand when she pointed the finger at Lee. At that moment I was
willing to bet that Lee Harmon was now out of the country.

Honey said, “Lee was flying back to Los Angeles this noon, Bonnie told me.”

That shot a lot of holes in my theory. Now I didn’t know what to think. Except
that I wanted to talk to Lee Harmon. I really wanted to talk to him because I
was positive that he’d hired the two guys the night before. I wanted to get
even with Lee Harmon.

I stared down into my glass and saw there were a couple of good swallows
remaining. I decided that I’d finish my drink and then I’d call on Lee Harmon.
I tipped up the glass and finished my drink. Then got to my feet. Honey was
also on her feet now, looking at me, her face framed by the waterfall of her
golden hair.

 “Lincoln,” she said softly, “let’s have another drink before you go.”

For a moment I felt the quick surge of suspicion. It had sounded as though she
wanted me to tangle with Lee. She had first of all explained why he was a prime
murder suspect and now she’d-assumed that I’d run right over and see him. I
didn’t really want to go but I had to satisfy my own curiosity about him.

But I hesitated because Honey’s wonderful hands were touching the sides of my
face. As she looked into my eyes I caught sight of the wonderful tenderness and
hunger lurking there, and quite naturally I leaned forward and let my hands
rest on her hips.

“Oh, Lincoln,” she murmured. “when you touch me, I melt.”

Her mouth met mine, gently at first; and then it was mauling mine as she
slammed herself against me. The heat and wanting sizzled down the front of me.
I was holding her tightly, feeling her squirming under my hands.

I needed her bareness pinned against me. Furiously my hands were working at the
back of her sweater. I pulled up the lower part of it, then remembered I’d
noticed a zipper at the nape of her neck. It was open in a second; and now as I
began working up the lower part of her sweater she was moving away from me.

As her lips left mine she stepped back and put up her arms. I skinned the
sweater off her and flung it aside. Her hands flashed behind her back, unhooked
the white bra and threw it away.

A lush and heavy golden breast was resting in the palm of each hand and she was
looking at me, offering them to me.

“They’re on fire, Lincoln. Do something!”

I did. Ravenously I leaned forward and fed on them. I was holding them in my
hands as she began unbuttoning the front of my shirt. Her fingers moved rapidly
as I drew her nipples deep into my mouth. They’d become extremely hard and the
satiny skin of her breasts was taut. Panting quickly, I stepped away from her
and shrugged out of my shirt while I was getting rid of my slacks she was
wriggling out of the miniskirt. There was nothing underneath it, except the
bare and golden Honey.

We crashed together violently and now it was rapturous because her heated
nudity seared the front of me. She was surging erratically, giving me the same
series of bumps that she’d used during her dance routine. And she was coming at
me so strong that I felt myself being driven against the edge of the couch.

At the last second I whirled and then we fell onto the couch together. The
moment she hit she became a golden animal, shifting and inviting. My lips were
in the hollow of her shoulder, smelling her wonderful heat and perfume while
the golden hair tickled the side of my face. She was rocking her shoulders
violently and as I moved my mouth down to her breasts, they rubbed my nose and
face.

I lingered there a moment, savoring them while my hand stroked her flaming
flanks, then moved inward until I covered the spot where the bumps originated.
That seemed to excite her even more.

She was shoving herself upwards against my hand. I drew a line of kisses down
the heaving and convulsing flatness of her stomach and then I was kissing her
avidly.

“Lincoln!” she screamed passionately.

The sound of her voice was abruptly shut off because her thighs were clamped
tightly against the side of my head, coving my ears and I was pinned against
the lovely soft and shaven spot, delving into the core of her honey.

The blood boomed and roared through me. It settled into my groin, huge and
causing so much pain that I was groaning loudly. I wanted to stop and yet I
wanted to continue and for several moments more I savored her exquisite
delights.

Abruptly I broke away from her, saw her vaguely beneath me with her arms
extended and inviting. I flung myself at her; and with the lovely breasts
cushioned under my chest, I slammed against her.

She was shivering violently as she sucked in her breath, and then her arms and
legs had enclosed me in her golden world. “It’s so good!”

“Yes!”

“Make it feel better!”

“Like this?”

I drove myself forward, heard her agree that was what she meant, and then I
repeated it again. We were both panting loudly as though we’d been running for
hours but that didn’t stop us. Together we were moving quickly, our drives and
counter-drives becoming more powerful and violent.

The beautiful passions of our union mounted quickly. I felt myself filling up
rapidly, the intensity of her heat drawing me deeper within her.

Suddenly it was the moment that we’d been waiting for; and through the blur of
gold I drove and bored, and she convulsed spasmodically. I broke apart and fell
into the lovely passionate world that she’d provided.


Chapter Twelve

While my car plowed through the curtain of rain, I hunched over the wheel and
peered through the half moons made by the wipers. I’d left the freeway a short
time ago and now I was traveling down Los Feliz Boulevard.

Honey had mentioned several times that she, had an appointment that afternoon
and I hadn’t questioned her about it. Although she made it sound rather
important, she hadn’t volunteered any information. I decided it was a hint for
me to get out of her apartment.

Now, I was nearing Lee Harmon’s apartment house I wondered whether she might
have merely wanted me to leave in the hope that I’d go to see Lee Harmon. She’d
certainly made it an attractive objective. She’d seemed so positive that Lee
had killed Sarah Leighton. She’d even supplied the motive but to me it didn’t
seem strong enough to call for murder.

Maybe Honey had arranged it so that I’d go to see Lee Harmon. I felt that he
might even be waiting for my arrival but it didn’t make any difference to me. I
had a personal thing going with him, I still meant. to get even.

This time I didn’t park at the curb in front of Lee Harmon’s apartment house. I
wheeled my car into the underground parking lot and parked it next to Lee’s
Caddie. Bonnie’s car was not there, and I occupied her slot.

Harmon’s Caddie was damp and when I checked it, I found the motor was still
warm. So he had returned recently, just as Honey had reported he would. I
walked over to the elevator and punched the button that would take me up to.
his floor. I slid out of my trench coat and when the elevator stopped and the
door slid open, I stepped out and walked down the hallway.

I leaned on the doorbell, waiting a couple of seconds, then I leaned on it
again. I was getting ready to do it the third time. The door swung open.

Lee Harmon was wearing Bermuda shorts. No shoes. He got a surprised look on his
face when he recognized me. It was even more surprised when I tossed my trench
coat at his face.

He whipped his hands up to catch it and while it blocked his view, I slammed my
right fist into his gut. It was a bit fleshy but there was a lot of. give. By
that time he’d shoved the trench coat away from the front of his face. His
hands were down and his rugged jaw was unprotected.

I felt the pain in my fist as it connected with his chin. His eyes blurred and
he was beginning to sink as his knees buckled. I fed my left into his gut. As
he toppled forward my knee came up; and as it crashed against his chin his head
shot backwards.

Because my trench coat was lying on the floor near Lee Harmon I picked it up
and tossed it over the back of a chair. And then I waited for Lee Harmon to
make his next move. He stirred around a bit, shoved himself upwards on his
hands as though he were starting a push-up.

My right foot swiped viciously and I knocked the props out from under him. His
face thumped loudly against the rug. I waited.

Finally Lee Harmon turned his head so that he could look at me. He was
stretched out on his stomach, the blood was seeping from his nose.

“What the hell is this?” he asked.

“This is getting-even-time, Harmon,” I told him “But I’ve still got a few licks
coming.”

“What for? I didn’t make a massacre out of you!”

“Didn’t you?”

“Hell, no! I wrapped you up real quick and let you sleep it off down in the
garage.”

“How about the two guys you sent around to take care of me later?”

Harmon was blinking at me as he sat up. The back of his right forearm slid
across his upper lip, and it came away, striped a brilliant red. Finally he
said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lincoln.”

I knew he was lying. I was positive. In two quick steps I was within range. My
right foot slashed upwards and the heel of my shoe caught him on the point of
the chin, flipping him backwards.

“Damnit!” he yelled. “What do you want from me?”

Harmon was having problems pushing his shoulders off the rug. I stood nearby
and watched him struggling until he was sitting upright again. This time he
used both hands to keep himself propped up. The blood was seeping from his
nose, oozing over his lips and beginning to drip off the point of his chin.

I asked, “Did you kill Sarah Leighton?”

He blinked rapidly. His mouth fell open a bit and the blood was now staining
his front teeth. “Sarah — she was murdered?”

“She was.”

He was shaking his head and his eyes were clouded. This guy was no actor. I was
certain that this was the first time he’d heard about Sarah’s death.

I extended my hand. “Grab it,” I said. “Why don’t you get off the floor, sit
down, and let’s talk.”

He was staring at me, as though deciding whether he should trust me. Finally
his hand came forward and I pulled him up. A moment later he was sitting in a
chair. I tossed him my handkerchief and he used it to blot the blood streaming
out of his nose. And then I waited. Until he’d gotten everything under control.

“You all right now, Harmon?”

He nodded.

I asked, “Where were you, Saturday morning, between the hours of six and ten?”

His eyes tightened. “That’s none of your damned business.”

“Then you killed her.”

I got up and walked across the room. I picked up the phone and started dialing.
“The police will be happy to talk to you.”

“No! Wait a minute, Lincoln!” I ignored him.

“Let me explain it to you! Dammit, I had a good reason for doing what I did.”

“Alright.” I dropped the phone into the cradle. I figured I had a confession.
As it turned out, I didn’t have anything.

I had a long story from Lee Harmon; and when he’d finished his story made a lot
of sense, and I believed him. When I’d dropped by to see him the first time he
was leaving for the airport. He was taking a plane to San Francisco to finalize
a big real estate deal. Because it was very touchy, and he and his partners
were trying to pull it out secretly, Harmon had thought I’d been sent by the
competitors to detain him. That’s why he’d jumped me. He swore he hadn’t hired
the two guys to beat up on me.

He also swore that he hadn’t killed Sarah Leighton. He admitted that he owed
her a lot of back alimony; but he honestly intended to pay it, the moment the
real estate deal had been consummated. At the time Sarah had been murdered he
insisted he’d been meeting with the silent partners on the deal they were
frying to close. And now he was silent, watching me and waiting for my reaction
to his story.

I said, “If you didn’t kill Sarah, do you know who did?”

He was shaking his head.

“Don’t you suspect anyone?”

He was staring thoughtfully at the rug, while his hand with the red-tinged
handkerchief swabbed erratically at his nose. Finally he said, “Unless it was
Nora.”

I made sure the surprise didn’t show in my face. It was funny, but Nora’s name
continually came up. First of all, she’d been at the restaurant while Sarah and
I were having dinner. Nancy pulled her name out of the blue and she had just
happened to know where Nora lived. And now Lee Harmon was offering her name.

“Why?”

Harmon straightened up, and his hand slid suavely along the side of his head,
smoothing out his hair. “Sarah was a close friend of Nora’s. The moment I
started dating Sarah, Nora started pitching me. She had it bad for me. She
wanted me so badly she wet her pants every time she found out I was with Sarah.
When I married Sarah, Nora was the sore loser.”

Some of the confidence had returned to Lee Harmon. He grinned happily. “Nora
was eating her heart out because I never made a pass at her. When Sarah and I
got married, Nora went out of her mind. She never forgot it. She packed the
grudge. Even I didn’t realize it until now. But Nora killed Sarah. I’m sure of
it.”

I tried to shake him. “You’re a goddamned egotist,

Harmon. You’re just trying to build yourself up by tossing out Nora’s name.”

I didn’t shake him. “No,” he said very seriously, “it’s true. Nora was a sore
loser.”

“Did you ever sleep with her?”

“Are you kidding? She was a bitch, every time she got near me. A hell of a
body. I was tempted, believe me. But I didn’t go for it. Only because I was
planning to marry Sarah at the time.”

He’d called it. He’d characterized Nora beautifully. Now as I sat there,
staring at him and thinking about everything he’d told me I was beginning to
believe him. At the same time I was thinking about Nora and the key to her
house that was in the pocket of my trench coat.

I got out of my chair, walked across the room and picked up my trench coat. As
I slipped into it I said, “If I find out that you hired the two guys, I’m
coming back to see you, Harmon.”

“What is it?” he was asking. “Why does that bug you, Lincoln?”

I didn’t tell him about the warning to stay away from Honey and Bonnie. I
merely said, “I don’t like to be used as a punching bag, and then end up face
down in the mud.”

“Yeah,” he said. “That figures.”

“Another thing,” I said. “If the police don’t hear from me by Monday morning,
they are coming by and they will be looking for you.”

“I’ll be here,” Harmon said.

“If you aren’t, they’ll find you.”

I walked to the door, stepped outside, then slammed it shut after me. While I
was riding down the elevator I was already thinking about the ride out to
Malibu.

Nothing made sense at the present time. I was going back to see Nora but I
didn’t really know why. Except for the fact that it appeared that everyone knew
Nora. There was definitely something more about her than met the eye. Even
though a lot of her had met my eye that morning.

As I left the elevator and walked to my car I wondered what reception she’d
give me this time. Should I walk into her house, unannounced? I gunned my car
and came out of the underground garage. The wipers were still going. It was a
waste of battery juice. The rain had miraculously stopped. I peered through the
windshield and saw that the clouds were thinning overhead. Finally, on Sunday
night, the rainstorm was moving on. It was all right with me.

I made good time getting back down to Malibu. When I arrived at Nora’s beach
house I cruised by it slowly. I caught sight of a faint light showing at two of
the windows. It didn’t prove a thing. She might be out, and she’d left a few
lights burning to discourage prowlers.

I made a U-turn and parked a half block away. While I walked towards her house
my right hand gripped the key I’d taken out of my trench coat. I’d left my coat
in the car. There were no cars parked near her house. I figured she was out.

But it didn’t matter. I’d try the key I’d swiped. If it fit her front door I
would go inside and wait for her return.

Silently I walked up to the entrance, turning my head to check the other houses
next to Nora’s. There was no one in sight. Even the cars moving along the main
highway had suddenly vanished.

I slid the key carefully into the lock, make a big wish, and then I shoved
against it, hoping it would go all the way in. It did.

Slowly, I turned it, pressuring against the tumblers. The bolt snicked softly;
and then the door was unlocked. I pocketed the key. Then I was inside the
house, closing the door softly behind me.

For several minutes I stood there, letting my glance move around the front
room. One of the lights burned dimly and I assumed I’d seen its glare from the
street as I’d driven by.

The flames in the fireplace had died. There was only a mass of charred coals
where the big logs had been burning that morning. Apparently the sliding glass
doors opening onto the patio and facing the Pacific had been opened slightly. I
could hear the restless surf as it surged onto the beach.

It seemed as though the house was deserted but at the same time I had the
strange feeling that someone was there. I stayed by the door and listened
intently but I couldn’t hear any strange sound. There was only the rhythmic
sighing of the Pacific.

Carefully I slipped off my shoes. I moved noiselessly across the front room
rug, pausing at short intervals to listen intently before I continued. I was
now at the entrance to the hallway which right-angled the length of the house.
At the far end of the darkened hail way I saw an open doorway framing a
rectangle of dim light.

Silently I moved down the hallway, keeping my glance fixed on the doorway.
Several minutes later I had reached it. Again I paused and listened. The sound
of the surf was almost inaudible. For that reason I was able to hear the soft
whisper of a woman’s voice.

It had sounded like Nora’s voice but I wasn’t positive. I leaned forward so
that I could peer around the side of the doorway without being seen. The first
thing that caught my eye was a painting leaning against the wall. Then I was
able to see an easel with a blank canvas propped up on it.

The room had to be Nora’ s studio. She was an artist and she’d even pretended
that she’d like to have me sit for her. Obviously she had coaxed someone else
to sit for her. I couldn’t believe that Nora was in there alone, talking to
herself.

From my angle I was unable to see the rest of the studio without moving so far
forward that I might become visible to whoever was inside. From the other side
of the doorway I’d be able to see the east side of the studio.

I moved back cautiously until my back was pressed against the opposite wall of
the hallway. Slowly I shuffled my stocking feet and moved sideways through the
strip of darkness. I saw the draped window facing the street, the lamp nearby
with the red shade and the light turned down low.

Finally I saw the red leather couch against the side of the wall. Someone was
sitting on it; but at that moment the person was blocked out by the back of the
woman standing in front of the couch.

She was wearing a smock that barely covered her fanny; and her bare legs were
terrific. A mass of dark straight hair streamed down her shoulders. It was so
long the ends of the strands were below the small of her back.

Nora whispered again, and this time I understood every word. “You’re absolutely
beautiful, my dear.”

“You’re very kind,” a voice answered softly.

Nora shifted her shoulders leisurely and then she was slipping out of the
smock. Carelessly she tossed it a few feet away.

Then Nora said, “I should know. I’m an artist and an expect on the nude form.
Look at mine. See the imperfection?”

“None. None at all.” The voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t be sure.

Nora was leaning slightly forward as her hands moved out. “Stand up, dear. I do
believe we’re the same height.”

Slowly Nora was straightening up again as she moved back a step. She was no
longer blocking my view. Honey, completely bare, was leaving the couch and
coming to her feet. And she was staring strangely into Nora’s eyes.


Chapter Thirteen

I blinked my eyes repeatedly and stared at Honey.

She was the last person I’d expected to find in Nora’s studio. Not because she
was young, she’d already told me that she wasn’t naive, but because everyone
that I contacted either knew Nora, or knew about her.

Vaguely I remembered that Honey had mentioned several times that she’d had an
important appointment. It had probably been this one. The one with Nora. With
no cars parked outside, Honey must have taken a cab, the way she’d traveled
that night when she came to Bonnie’s apartment.

While the thoughts were tumbling through my mind I was half-listening to Nora’s
soothing voice. She was telling Honey that her body was exquisite, her features
were exotic and that was the reason she’d asked Honey to sit for her. At first
Honey seemed rather reserved; but as Nora continued talking softly to her, I
began to catch a strange excitement in Honey’s voice.

Nora’s hands were now on Honey’s hips, the fingers caressing and stroking
lightly as she talked. “We’re the exact height, my darling. Isn’t that
marvelous? We could actually be twins!”

I squinted at them through the dimness and decided that it was true. Both were
tall and statuesque, long limbed with lush hips, and magnificent breasts. The
aroused and taut nipples were at the same level, and they lacked only inches
from touching.

They were twins, if you looked only at the exquisite curves and lines of their
figures and the waterfalls of hair that spilled down their supple backs. And
there it ended. Honey was a golden goddess, Nora was a sultry jungle cat.

I felt the fierce excitement drumming through me as I watched them standing so
close together that their nipples were touching and rubbing. And then I
remembered Nora’s claws. It all made sense now when I recalled the way she’d
played with me that morning. Nora preferred girls to men.

Nora’s bands were now feathering the outside of Honey’s thighs, traveling over
the hips and caressing her sides. Her voice was a hypnotic purr and she was
lavishly praising Honey’s figure.

Honey’s hands came up and grasped Nora’s forearms, as though she might have
intended to move Nora’s hands away from her. But suddenly Honey had begun
licking her lips, and her hands remained lightly on Nora’s arms.

“Go ahead,” Nora urged. “Touch me if you like.

Touch me the way I’m touching you.”

With Honey’s glance locked with Nora’s, Honey’s hands came down to rest on
Nora’s hips. At their touch, Nora began to sway her hips. At the same time she
was moving her shoulders slightly, the tips of her breasts now brushing
actively against Honey’s golden cones.

Honey seemed to melt, with her eyes half-closed her head was slowly tipping
backwards, lips parted.

“Ooooh,” she sighed softly.

“Doesn’t it feel good, Honey?”

“Oh, yes,” Honey moaned.

As Nora’s arms slid around Honey and pulled the golden hips and thighs against
her duskiness, Honey slumped even more. It was Nora who was holding her up now,
at the same time grinding her groin against the golden nudity.

Honey was breathing fast and her breasts heaved erratically. Slowly Nora began
to release her, letting her sit down onto the edge of the couch.

“There,” Nora crooned. “That’s so much better.”

Gracefully she sank to her knees, leaning forward to pry apart Honey’s knees.
Then she wriggled her torso and slid it within Honey’s opened thighs.

“Yes, it is,” Honey murmured.

“Much, much better, my darling.”

Honey had put her hands on the couch and now she was using her arms to prop
herself upright. Her head was all the way back and as Nora leaned forward and
nuzzled the hollow of Honey’s throat I could see the ripples shake the golden
body.

“Oh, Nora,” Honey cried softly. “It’s so wonderful.”

“You’ll like this even better,” Nora promised.

Her mouth was making little erotic designs on Honey’s breasts. As she moved
downward, Honey’s hips began to squirm and rotate, the golden limbs opening
wider with each moment while Nora’s mouth nursed and nuzzled. Honey was shaking
her shoulders and jutting out her breasts. They were pressured hard against
Nora’s face, the powerful movements making them maul Nora’s nose and cheeks.

Honey had begun murmuring ecstatically, the words very soft and unintelligible.
She was on the verge of collapse as Nora moved in even closer. At the same time
Nora’s head had moved downward, and her mouth was moving restlessly across
Honey’s quivering stomach.

Suddenly Honey’s hands slid out from under her and she fell backwards onto the
couch. Her feet were still on the floor, the knees bent over the edge of the
couch and she was rocking restlessly. Nora drove in like a tigress.

“No,” Honey whispered.

I saw her hands come forward, and her fingers were digging into the mass of
Nora’s hair.

“Oh, no, please,” she cried out a second time. Her hands whipped back to the
couch and dug in and she tried to squirm backwards and away from Nora.

It was impossible because Nora’s fingers were socked into Honey’s golden
buttocks, the fingernails clawing at the lovely skin and holding Honey in
position.

“Nora,” Honey cried out. Now she was pushing herself, up until she was resting
on her elbows. “No, Nora, I don’t —“ Her eyes were clenched tight and her face
suddenly became contorted with passion.

“No—o-—o,” she said, the sounds dying in her throat as she surrendered and let
her back settle down on the couch again.

“You bitch!” I yelled, the anger clotted in my throat.

The moment I yelled, I’d hurtled through the open doorway. I was headed for
Nora and I wanted to kill her. But she was quick. As I lunged for her she’d
leaped to her feet like a cat and slipped out of my grasp. I was a bit off.
balance. Before I could recover and go after her she’d run to the end table
that held the lamp.

Her hand ripped open the drawer. Now it held a small automatic and it was
pointed at my chest.

“Keep away from me!”

I was about six feet away from her. I had no desire to get closer. Her lips
were tight, the teeth showing and her eyes were slitted. With the anger
flickering through the slits, and the eye shadow, she was a cornered jungle
cat.

“Get back!” she snarled. “Back to the doorway!”

I retreated slowly, knowing that she knew how to use the gun, and that she
hoped for an excuse to shoot. Out of the corner of my eye I was able to see
Honey. She was huddled up on the couch, lying on her side with her back turned
to me. Her hands were covering her face.

Now that I was seeing her again I felt the fresh rush of anger heat up my face.
I was angry at myself for not baying broken it up sooner but at the very
beginning I’d been carried away by the same hypnotic crooning that had
captivated Honey. Also, in the beginning I’d thought that Honey went for that
sort of thing. If she did, I wanted her to have her fun.

When I’d seen her resisting Nora, it had snapped me out of my trance.

Nora said, “And now I’m going to have to kill you!”

“The way you killed Sarah Leighton?”

The corners of her eyes tightened briefly. That was Nora’s only reaction. Then
she said, “Not quite. I didn’t kill her with a gun.”

“Why did you do it, Nora?”

Her eyes widened now and they’d taken on a glazed look. With the mass of dark
hair framing her face, she gave the appearance of a crazed animal.

“Because she caused everything. She shouldn’t have divorced Lee. When she did
that, she freed him.

And what did he do? He married Bonnie. I loved Bonnie! And then he took her
away from me! Everything would have been all right if he’d have still been
married to Sarah. Then he wouldn’t have been able to marry again. He couldn’t
have married Bonnie and taken her away from me. Now do you see?”

It was screwy, but when I studied her face, it made a lot of sense. The old
love between Nora and Bonnie was a surprise. I guessed that was the way Nora
had gotten to Honey. Through her sister, Bonnie. Honey and Bonnie.

The was the same two names the two guys had warned me about. Honey and Bonnie.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Honey stirring about. Now she swung her long
golden legs over the edge of the couch and sat up. She was staring at Nora who
was right in front of her.

I said, “So you hired the two guys to beat me up.”

She laughed huskily. “Of course. I saw you going up to the apartment with
Honey. I couldn’t have that. She’s my love.”

Nora swung her head around so that she could smile at Honey. “Aren’t you, my
darling?”

I shifted my foot, hoping to catch her off-guard but the muzzle was still fixed
on rite. Her eyes were cold as she looked at me again. “Tell him, Honey,” she
purred. “Tell him that you’re my love.”

“I love you, Nora,” Honey said tenderly. She got to her feet.

My heart dropped. Like a chunk of lead it felt now, cold and without emotion. I
couldn’t believe it. I felt like an idiot for breaking it up.

“You see?” Nora gloated happily. “Honey,” she said, “come over here by me. I’ll
protect you. Now, and after we kill him.”

“Yes, Nora,” Honey said obediently.

As though she were still in a daze Honey walked over to Nora and then she
stopped beside her. “May I kill him, darling?”

“No!” Nora said. “I want that pleasure. No one will ever know who killed him.
They’ll never find him. Never will they —“

The movement was so quick that Honey’s arm was a golden blur. One moment it had
been hanging slack at her side. The next second her forearm had cracked against
the lower part of Nora’s forearm. It was very unprofessional.

But the gun flipped out of Nora’s hand and sailed through the air I dove for it
and I caught it before it hit the floor. I jumped to my feet. The fight had
already started.

Two beautiful naked women were on the floor, tearing at each other’s hair,
pummeling with their fists, scratching with their fingernails and toenails.
They were screaming, grunting, panting, and cursing like a couple of fishwives.
They were rolling across the floor, snarling like a couple of felines fighting
for, survival. Fingers were clenched in hair; and heads were being banged
against the floor’s hardness. It was a fight that needed a top-notch referee.

I leaned a shoulder against the side of the doorway and just sort of kept an
eye on things. That Honey was a scrapper. God, she was really something. Her
lithe golden body was a study in physical fitness. And she had stamina. And
stick-to-itiveness.

Her golden thighs were straddling Nora, who was now on the floor on her back.
Honey was bent forward slightly. As she fought Nora’s efforts; her golden
breasts swung freely and wonderfully. Her hands were hidden in Nora’s dark
hair. Honey’s fingers were clenched, and she was beating the back of Nora’s
head viciously against the floor.

When Nora’s hands fell limply to the floor and wasn’t resisting anymore, I
stepped in. I, the referee.

My bands slipped under Honey’s arms. I braced myself and after a couple of
seconds I was able to bring Honey back to reality. I pulled her away from Nora
and got her onto her feet.

“Hey,” I said, “take it easy.”

Honey said, “I’ll kill her!”

Honey was staring angrily down at Nora and I had to restrain Honey. “Thanks for
the help.”

She finally pulled her glance away from Nora and looked at me. Then she smiled.
“Nobody is going to kill you while I’m around, Lincoln.”

Nora groaned and tried to sit up. Honey set the ball of her right bare foot
against Nora’s forehead and shoved. The back of Nora’s head thumped against the
floor.

Up to that moment I’d considered handing Honey the automatic to watch over Nora
while I called the police. Now I knew better.

I said, “And nobody is going to kill Nora while I’m around, Honey. Why don’t
you get dressed?”

For the first time she was beginning to relax. With a seductive smile on her
face she came towards me. The next moment she’d slipped her arms around my
neck. All the wonderful, glistening gold was willowed against the front of me.

She asked, “Am I forgiven?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Honey.”

“I don’t want you to worry about a thing, Lincoln.”

I don’t —“

Her soft luscious lips, were pressed against mine. I couldn’t talk anymore. I
didn’t want to. After she’d worked on me for a couple of seconds, I couldn’t
have talked again if I’d wanted to. Nora saved me.

She was sitting up now, trying to get to her feet.

I shoved Honey away from me. “It’s been wonderful. Now get dressed while Nora
and I go out in the front room.”

“Not without me you don’t!”

“I only want to call the police, Honey.”

“I’ll call the police.”

And because Honey was such a good fighter, and lover I let her.


Chapter Fourteen

The rain was gone. The sky was clearing rapidly. From the couch in the front
room of my apartment I was able to see the moon shifting around behind the
cloud clumps.

I’d turned on the radio and it was playing softly. A short time ago it had been
midnight and they’d given the news, a long with the weather report.

“Today, Monday, was to be a beautiful day. No rain. No smog. Lots of sunshine.”
And I still didn’t have a client. But I had Honey.

After she’d made the telephone call from Nora’s house, we’d all assembled in
the front room. It was Honey who brought out Nora’s clothes, as well as her
own. I just sat there, holding the automatic, watching as they got dressed.

It was a reverse strip tease. Very entertaining. And it was a nice way to kill
time until the police arrived.

Jenks had led the pack.

After I’d given him the complete story and they’d taken Nora away, I took Honey
away. Back to my apartment. As I sat there on the couch now with my feet
propped up on the coffee table with a scotch in my hand, I’d been listening to
the shower. Now it was turned off. I figured that Honey had begun toweling dry.

“Lincoln! Would you look at me!”

I looked up and saw her coming into the front room. She’d just stepped out of
the shower; but she hadn’t toweled dry. She was a golden goddess with the
droplets of water still clinging to her skin.

The big bath towel was draped around her shoulders. It wasn’t that big. It
didn’t cover up the front of her at all. And that’s what she was looking at-at
that moment.

There was a black and ugly bruise on the top of her left breast. Another one
was on the right side, at about the fifth rib. A big angry blotch of black was
about six inches inside her left hip, and a bit downward.

Honey was standing spread-legged. There were a number of small dark bruises on
the inside pf both thighs. And way up, high in the crotch.

Honey wailed, “What am I going to do?”

“On you, they look good, Honey.”

“But — for my opening. I can’t dance topless with all these bruises over my
body!”

“That’s true, Honey.”

She was fidgeting with her wonderful hair again, the fingers of her hands
moving it away from the sides of her face. She was really something.

“Come here,” I said.

Her glance caught and held mine. “I don’t know if I trust you, Lincoln.”

“You can trust me.”

“I know,” she said softly. “But what do you intend to do about it?”

“Well, first of all,” I said, “I intend to kiss all your bruises and that will
make them feel better.”

Her face was radiant. “I like that.”

“Already you’re committing yourself.”

“No.” She was shaking her head. “I committed myself to you a long time ago,
Lincoln.”

Slowly she pulled the bath towel away from her shoulders. She took a couple of
steps, dragging the towel along the rug as she moved. Then her fingers let it
drop to ‘the floor; and she was coming towards me, seductive, exciting, the
fire evident in her eyes.

For the first time in my life I was thinking about Nancy’s robe and clothes
hanging up in my closet, and that it was time that I got rid of them.

Gently Honey, the bare one, lifted the glass from my hand and set it on the
coffee table. And then her slim golden hand was on my shoulder, pushing me
backwards, and I went willingly.


THE END
