Chapter 13
"What you have to keep bearing in mind, Charlie," Warren Bauer said crisply, "is that she did it. She's a slut, a whore, a clip-artist from the word go. She took this sucker up to that apartment for the express purpose of feeding him knockout drops so she could walk off with his dough. Her mistake was in letting him take too much of the stuff. It's that cut and dried, Charlie."
Charlie Aiken was confused. He stared across the desk in his study at the man he had known all his life, whom he had gone to school with and who was now mayor of this unpredictably growing community. It struck him as he studied Warren Bauer that without his realizing it, the position of mayor had grown in importance. It hadn't been that way over the years but somewhere along the line, it had changed ... just as Whitebank and the people of Whitebank had changed.
Warren Bauer had changed.
Naturally, in a small town, the citizen who accepted the honor of the poor-paying job as mayor had to have another full-time profession. Warren had been a jeweler, having inherited the business from an uncle a dozen or so years before accepting the mayoralty. The trade was not a demanding one and he'd had enough time and energy for community affairs. Charlie was only beginning to realize how much energy....
The well-dressed man seated across his desk was no longer a jeweler. He was the picture of the ambitious politician, a man with a future, a man with a goal, a man who wanted to be more than he was and confident that he would be. Yes, Warren Bauer had changed, and Charlie wasn't sure whether to be saddened or frightened.
"I really can't understand your attitude on the matter, Mayor," Charlie stated slowly, sweating, certain that this morbid conversation about the June Ryan case was only a fragment of a larger picture. "I wish you'd make your point."
Bauer's teeth clenched the cigar tightly. "Okay, Charlie, I'll spell it out for you. June Ryan is guilty. I know it, the town knows it, the whole state knows it ... and I want to be sure you know it."
Charlie was made to remember that in childhood, Warren Bauer had been a skinny boy with one annoying habit. He wanted all the kids to play only the games he was good at. He'd been a terrible baseball player but a champion at ping-pong. Charlie pushed the thought from his mind and cleared his throat. "I think you're out of order, Mayor. The trial, such as it is, is still in process. A witness vital to the girl's defense hasn't been located. The friend whose apartment she used that night. Besides, it will be up to the jury. A judge only presides, he doesn't control."
Bauer snorted derisively. "Don't tell me you believe that cock and bull story about a friend? What's the matter with you, Charlie? And forget that jury business ... a judge can steer any jury to whatever decision he wants and we both know it. Look, I'll say it again ... the girl is guilty, Charlie. You hear what I'm saying? Guilty."
Thinking of June, remembering the delight her creamy body had brought him, Charlie suffered guilt like a dozen razors scraping at his insides. Afraid that Warren.Bauer might guess at the true cause of his interest in the girl's welfare, he'd been purposefully pretending total detachment regarding her innocence or guilt. At the same time, he had to remind himself that he truly did believe she'd been framed by a group of hoodlums. What he still couldn't grasp was why Bauer was so vehement in his opinion.
"It's not right to prejudge, Mayor," he muttered tiredly, aware of the night sounds both in and out of the house, empty at this time except for Warren and himself. Distilled sounds of occasional traffic filtered in from the outer street together with an infrequent clicking of high heels on pavement. He wondered where Helen was ... and then, where Kathy might be. Neither of them had bothered to inform him of their activities before leaving the house earlier in the evening.
"Prejudge, hell," Bauer snapped, openly impatient and aggravated. "What the devil does it take to get through to you? I've come here tonight to set you straight on this thing for your own good. I wouldn't like to see you make a mistake on anything as important as this case."
"That's precisely what I don't understand, Mayor," Charlie offered bewilderedly. "Why is it so important? Why are you so upset about it? Is it just because of the notoriety it's been receiving?" He shook his head and leaned on the desk, wanting to understand and yet, feeling as though it would be best if he didn't. "Forgive me for speaking bluntly, but why are you meddling? Actually, this is a very definite violation of ethics." He stopped short, the word shaming him into abrupt silence.
Warren Bauer chewed his cigar in silence for a moment, his flint-hard eyes never straying from Charlie's face. Then, quite deliberately, he removed the cigar and settled back in his chair. "All right, I guess I have no choice but to level with you. We're in the process of change here in Whitebank, Charlie. You must know it. And whenever there's change, people have to adapt."
"Yes, of course, but-"
"Let me finish. I've been trying for years to attract new business to Whitebank. I think I've been doing a good job. All right, that's the background. Now let's get to the matter at hand ... the June Ryan case."
Charlie felt his stomach flutter in nervous anticipation. He'd never known that Warren Bauer could speak so authoritatively, so aggressively, so purposefully. It frightened him.
Bauer flicked the ash of his cigar. "One of these new business factions is ... shall we say, somewhat involved in this case. Oh, not in any way incriminating, but simply as a most interested observer. If we're to keep this person and the organization he represents in Whitebank, we're going to have to prove that we're cooperative. Cooperative, Charlie."
"I'm afraid I'm still confused," Charlie admitted.
Bauer sighed in exasperation. "This party wants to see justice done. It's that simple. He wants the Ryan girl to be found guilty."
Charlie blinked in astonishment as a wave of understanding flooded him. Could Whitebank have changed that drastically without his realizing it? Could lifelong friends like Warren Bauer have changed along with it while he remained a prisoner to the past? Was everything in his life to be tainted? He tried to clear his head and find the words to express his resentment. "I can't believe I'm hearing you correctly, Warren," he mumbled dully. "Surely, you can't-"
Bauer rose from his chair quickly. "Come down from your ivory tower, Charlie. Open your eyes and take a good look around before it's too late. Again, I'm telling you this for your own good."
"You sound as though you're threatening me."
"Take it any way you like, Charlie," Bauer retorted, slipping into his topcoat.
"Has it ever occurred to you that this girl might be innocent?"
Bauer stopped halfway to the door. "Don't even let that possibility cross your mind, Charlie."
"I happen to believe it."
A tiny nerve in Bauer's jaw twitched. "I see. Well then, I think it would be wise for you to meet that interested party I talked of a moment ago. Perhaps he could change your mind. You can find him at The Club Nocturne. You know where that is? I'll tell him you'll be dropping by tomorrow evening. He'll be expecting you. Just ask for Marty Jex. That name mean anything to you?"
"No," Charlie replied, overwhelmed by Bauer's flat directives. "Should it mean something to me?"
Bauer smiled grimly. "You'd better believe it, Charlie."
Charlie Aiken watched the formidable figure of Warren Bauer pass through the heavy doors of his study. A moment later, the front door slammed shut and Charlie felt the silence of the empty house closing in on him. He felt terribly alone and terribly frightened and yet he still did not know what it was that he had to fear.
Marty Jex. The Club Nocturne. Tomorrow night. He wished Helen was home so he could talk to her about it.
He wished he didn't feel so damned alone.
Al Rudd felt as though he'd lost control of his actions. The afternoon and evening were all blurred, unreal, incredible. Things were happening too fast, strange things, exciting things, fantastic things ... and he couldn't seem to catch up with them. They were carrying him along, like a tidal wave might carry along a man, and he couldn't seem to find time to catch his breath or organize his thoughts and make himself believe that it was all really and truly happening.
He looked around the luxurious office that was located on the upper floor of The Club Nocturne and shook his head in wonderment. "You must have made some kind of a mistake, Mister Jex," he mumbled perplexedly, turning to stare at the expensively-dressed man seated behind the desk. "You must have me mixed up with somebody else. There ain't nothing I could ever do for a man like you."
"That's where you're wrong, Al," the tall man drawled, rising to come around to refill Al's glass. "A man in your position might be very helpful for me to know."
Al Rudd had a fleeting moment of suspicion. "My position?"
Jex leaned against the edge of his desk. "Let's skip that for the moment, heh? I'd like to know a little more about you. Julie told me how nice you were when she got into trouble a few months back. I'd like to figure out some way to repay you for that kindness. Goon, Al ... tell me about yourself."
The drinks were strong and the attention heady and Al felt himself falling under the spell of the man's smooth voice. There was something fishy about it but for some reason, he didn't care at that moment. So, instead of asking questions, he found himself talking eagerly and helplessly about himself as though he had not had an audience in years. Hell, it was true. Who had there ever been for him to talk to? Why not take advantage of it? Of all of it, the flattering attention, the strong drinks, the expensive cigars, all of it? He didn't care if it was all real or genuine. He didn't even care if Mister Jex was listening....
"... so that's about it," he heard himself say in conclusion. He looked down and saw that he had already finished his third drink and it struck him that he hadn't even been aware of it during his disconnected ramblings. "Nothing very interesting, I guess," he mumbled. "I mean, to a man like you."
"You're too modest, Al," Jex smiled, pushing away from the desk.
"I, eh, still don't know why you figured I could help it you....
Jex walked to a side door and opened it. "Why don't we go inside where we can be more comfortable? Besides, it wouldn't be polite of you to visit and not take time to say hello to Julie."
Al Rudd felt his pulse skip a beat as he rose. He blinked at the unsteadiness of his legs and followed Jex out of the office and into the adjoining living quarters. The room was dazzling and every bit as intoxicating as the liquor that Marty Jex had served him. There was perfume in the air and music coming out of the walls and the rug beneath his feet felt like a carpet of sponge.
Jex was standing at a portable bar, mixing two drinks. "Make yourself comfortable, Al. Julie will be out in a minute."
Al lowered himself gingerly to a plush settee. "This is all mighty rich, Mister Jex."
Jex handed him the fresh drink. "Glad you like it, Al." He turned and looked over to an arched doorway in which a golden drapery hung. "Julie?" he called. "We've got company."
Al squared his shoulders and moistened his lips in nervous anticipation. He suddenly felt hot and itchy. The sumptuous furnishings and diffused lighting and perfumed music were infiltrating his system together with the imported liquor. He fidgeted, nerves taut as he awaited Julie Miller's entrance, and finally sought to ease the tension by gulping deeply and greedily from his glass.
The drapery moved and then she was standing there, smiling across the room at him.
At him ... AlRudd ... geezuz....
He stared. It was all he could do.
"Hello, Al," she murmured, red lips glistening.
Al could feel his body reacting sharply to the very sight of the gorgeous creature who was smiling at him. The yellow hair was loose and curling at her shoulders. She was wearing golden shoes with high heels and some kind of a gown that looked as thin as a piece of colored tissue paper. He could see her magnificent legs and hips and belly button clearly outlined and her heavy breasts were pushing high and free against the wispy material. He could see everything ... everything ... Geezuz.
She was moving forward and Jex stepped to her side, slipping an arm around her narrow waist. Al watched his hand roam upward until it was cupping the jiggly fullness of one breast in an idly possessive manner. He cleared his throat and blinked as Julie wriggled pleasurably under the bold caress. "Hello, Miss Julie," he stammered.
"I'm glad you could come, Al," she purred, leaning into Jex so that his hip was rubbing against her thighs.
Al was only partially conscious of what she was saying. His eyes were magnetized by the subtle movements of the manicured fingers that toyed with the shaded point of the rounded breast. He tried to clear his head, aware that Jex was talking, talking about him....
"... telling Al that I'd like to do something for him, honey. You know, work out some sort of a business arrangement. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
The luscious blonde undulated her hips against Jex sensuously as she nodded. "I'd like that a lot."
Jex laughed softly. "I bet you wouldn't mind doing something nice for Al yourself, would you?"
There was something choking him, Al decided. He couldn't seem to breathe freely and it was making him sweat. What was Mister Jex saying? Did he mean what Al thought he meant? Was it possible that Julie Miller might consider ... no, geezuz, no ... it couldn't be ... it just couldn't be ... and yet she was smiling....
"How about it, honey? Tell the truth."
The exciting young girl giggled throatily. "Well, I always did have a weakness for older men...."
Jex eased her away from him. "Why don't you give Al a little sample of how nice you can be to a man, baby? Go on ... we're all friends...."
Al tensed, his senses whirling crazily, as Julie swayed nearer to the settee. He heard himself laugh, a nervous cackle, as she slid down on the cushion beside him. He found himself shivering as he breathed in her perfume and stared in fascination at the smiling wet mouth and gleaming green eyes. The dark tips of the incredible breasts were almost scraping him as she leaned forward.
"Don't be shy," she whispered, breathing into his face.
Al threw a frightened glance at Jex. "You sure you don't-"
Jex waved aside his words. "Relax, Al."
There was a sudden sensation and Al jerked as it sliced through his body. He managed to keep from dropping his glass as he caught his breath and went taut under the bold movements of her hand. Then her wonderful mouth was at his ear, tickling and teasing and titillating him. He could feel the pressure of her breasts, rubbing, pushing. The perfume seemed to be drowning him. She continued to fondle him and his shivering became a shuddering and he couldn't believe that she was doing what she was doing to him right out in the open that way.
Then she was falling backwards on the cushions and pulling him after her. Al looked frantically at Jex but the slender man only smiled and sipped casually at his drink. Julie was undulating again and the thin gown was parting and her golden body was blinding him. He stared at her, entranced as much with the whole shocking situation as he was with the artful manipulations of her warm and brazen hands.
"Go on, Al," a masculine voice coaxed. "Help yourself."
He felt his glass being taken away and Julie's hands tugging at him and he feared that his heart was about to burst apart with the excitement that throbbed within him. She was pushing one pink-tipped breast up at him and guiding his head toward it and then he was possessing it and tasting it and feeding upon it like a starving man.
Who'd believe it, he thought wildly, deliriously. Who in hell would ever believe it? Him, old Al Rudd ... with a girl like Julie Miller. And she was loving it, every second of it, almost as much as him. She was tossing and turning and moaning and groaning like a backwoods bitch in heat. And her hands never stopped moving on him, never once, like he was the first man she had ever touched. They were driving him crazy, making him forget what he was doing and what he was saying. She was so damned hot, so damned soft, so damned sweet ... almost rabbit-soft in places, sugar-sweet in places, velvet-smooth in places ... and she was letting him know every one of the places.
Suddenly Jex was close to him, too close to him, distracting and disturbing his concentration. "You like that, don't you, Al? I don't blame you. Julie's quite a girl once she gets started. All I have to do is give her the word and she'll really let loose. You hear me, Al? She does what I tell her. Anything I tell her."
Al groaned, every nerve in his body protesting the interruption and the strong hands that were holding him apart from the golden-skinned girl who lay sprawled and wanton beneath him.
"All I have to do is give her the word and she'll be nice to you, Al," Jex continued, his voice low but firm. "She'll give you a night that you'll never forget."
"Oh, geezuz...." Al panted, quaking as her fingertips trailed away from him.
"Here," Jex stated sharply, "finish your drink, buddy. Cool off for a minute."
Al felt the glass being shoved into his hand and a sick despair swept through him as he saw Julie roll off the couch and rise to her feet and smooth the parted folds of her thin wrapper. He drank greedily, hoping to quench the fire that raged within him, unable to tear his eyes from the lusciousness that continued to peek out at him from beneath the gown. The drink helped a little and he drew a steadying breath. "What do you want from me?" he croaked, his hands trembling.
Jex laughed coldly. "I figured you'd get the message, Al. It's really very simple. You're in a key spot, a spot where you can do me some good. You do me a favor and I'll do you one. I can make you a happy man, Al. A very happy man. Julie, here, is only part of it."
Al stared up at the golden girl who was patting at her blonde hair and watching their conversation with only partial interest. "Just tell me what you want."
"Judge Aiken's personal and confidential files, Al, that's all."
"Charlie Aiken?"
"That's right, Al. You get them and bring them to me tomorrow and then...." Jex stopped and nodded toward Julie.
Al Rudd felt sick to his stomach. Julie was smiling down at him again. Jex was watching him carefully. Something in the back of his head was telling him to jump up and run out of the room as fast as his two legs could carry him but the voice wasn't loud enough to command obedience. He sat on the settee, vaguely aware of his own partial nakedness, and thought only of the sweet flesh and velvet-soft hands and white-hot lips.
"Tomorrow, Al," Jex repeated flatly. "It's got to be tomorrow."
Al saw a look exchanged between Jex and Julie. She turned and walked back toward the draped doorway. Halfway there, the flimsy gown floated down her body and fell to the floor and she was naked except for her high-heeled shoes and her fine-skinned buttocks were gleaming enticingly in the soft light. Then, at the door, she turned and smiled, the twin tips of her breasts jutting out toward him.
"Come back soon, Al," she cooed.
Then she was gone.
"How about it, Rudd?" Jex asked sharply. "We got a deal?
Al struggled to find his voice. "Anything," he answered hoarsely. "Anything you say. Anything at all."
Jex smiled and walked to the bar. "How about a nightcap, old buddy?"