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KathyStark2

The following is a work of fiction regarding sexual relationships. If you
feel that it is illegal, immoral, or otherwise improper for you to read
this, then *Don't Read It.*

* * *

*Kathy*

Copyright (c) 1991, 1998, 2001 by Morgan. All rights reserved.

Please note the original copyright date. This story was basically
written ten years ago and was originally posted in 1988. As a result, you
will likely find obsolete references. I'm afraid you'll just have to live
with it; it's too tedious trying to keep up with the latest and greatest.
It was previously posted on ASSM in 1998, but not since then.

Incidentally, you will find occasional entries, _word_. The reason for
this is that MS Word's Auto Format function puts a word preceded and
followed by an underscore in italics; that's my intent. Similarly, *word*
results in the word appearing in bold face. If you use Word's Auto Format,
it will take care of things; if you don't, you at least know why it's
there.

More of my works are posted on my site <www.asstr.org/~Morgan> If you
like it -- or if you don't -- please let me know at morg105829@aol.com.

* * *

*Book II*

*Chapter 11*

It was a sunny June day in Norfolk. The temperature was in the mid-90's
with humidity to match, and Kathy was lying on her bed staring out at the
sky. She was lying nude, reflecting on recent events. She supposed that
she should do something about studying for her bar exam, but she couldn't
bring herself to do it. She had just graduated from UVA law school and
wanted to leave the books alone for a while.

She thought about her decision to refuse the editorship of the Law
Review. She had earned it, but she really didn't feel like working that
hard. She accepted the position of Note Editor instead. As at Yale, she
had graduated with highest honors. It was still unclear to her why her
studies came so easily to her. She really didn't believe that her scores
on the LSAT's were indicative of her ability. She had heard all the
stories about the cultural bias on aptitude tests so she didn't believe the
evidence of her own experience that, biased or not, they were certainly
directionally accurate. Kathy's direction was the top.

The law school recruiting season had been funny. After her first year
in law school she had interned with an appellate-court judge in Virginia.
She spent the summer after her second year working for a Federal Appeals
Court judge in Richmond. When the representatives from the nation's top
law firms came to Charlottlesville to interview, they all tried to
interview Kathy Smith. Aside from it being good for their image to hire
young women, Kathy had become a legend at Virginia. Her grades were
distinguished as were the recommendations from both faculty and the judges
for whom she had worked, so she was considered the top employment prospect
in her class.

When she absolutely could not refuse, she would attend a cocktail party
or dinner sponsored by one major law firm or another. young lawyers in the
firm, brought to Charlottesville because they were thought to be able to
"relate well" with students, were swarming like studs around a bitch in
heat.

Now, at age twenty-four, Kathy was a truly stunning woman. Her face,
figure, skin and hair were all flawless. However, she treated them all
with a subtle amusement that they didn't understand. Women were supposed
to be flooding around and fawning all over them. In the meantime, the
senior partners -- used to standing around, impressing the rabble, and
sitting in judgment over whom they should deign to invite to visit their
Firm's offices -- struggled to get close to Kathy without too-obviously
elbowing their juniors aside. Kathy maintained her poise and appeared to
be an ice goddess.

Accidentally, she had discovered the most effective way of playing the
recruiting game: Ignore them. The results were hilarious. At school she
had a drawer-full of invitations to visit top law offices in cities around
the country. In spite of never having taken an interview she received
eight firm offers of employment. Most were from top firms offering top
money. She wrote polite notes of refusal to both the invitations and the
offers. Idly, she wondered if she had even bothered to save the letters.

Her classmates never knew how she obtained her position. While
representatives of the top firms were swarming all over her, she had
written to the District Attorney of Norfolk County applying for a position.
The next day she received a call from him at her apartment. After
convincing himself that it was not a prank, that she really was who she
said she was, he offered her a job on the spot. She accepted his offer and
then asked how much the position paid.

She remembered the silence at the other end of the phone. "The position
pays $17,500 per year to start," he said in an absolutely flat tone of
voice.

"That's fine," Kathy replied brightly. "Could I start September first?
I would like to rest this summer and get the bar exams out of the way, if
that's all right with you."

"Miss Smith," the District Attorney said, "I don't get it. Top
graduates from top schools are getting up to $75,000 a year to start.
Clearly, you're a top graduate and UVA is a top school."

"You're right, sir. As a matter of fact, I just turned down an offer at
$80,000. I didn't mean to upset you about the money; I was just curious.
May I call for an appointment to meet you the next time I'm in town?"

"Kathy, I'll be available to see you any time you can make it, and I
will leave standing instructions with my secretary to that effect. You may
be one of the great nuts of the Western World, but I am looking forward to
meeting you."

Kathy had an appointment to see the District Attorney that afternoon.

Idly, she glanced around her apartment. The decorating wasn't quite
finished but it was pretty close. The apartment was on the top floor of an
apartment complex. Through a hidden door it connected to an exercise room
and through that to her personal law office. The office and the exercise
facility were actually in an adjacent building. The office building
fronted on a commercial avenue in Virginia Beach while her apartment opened
on a residential street to its rear.

No one knew of the connection except the architect, the builder and
Kathy. Of course, it helped to own both buildings. She was pleased. Both
buildings were almost completely rented out. It was going to be quite a
moneymaker, even if she paid no rent herself.

She was particularly pleased with her pool and deck. Walking through
her bathroom, she slid open the door and stepped outside. The terrace was
surrounded by a ten-foot palisade-type fence for privacy. The pool was a
narrow rectangle 25 meters long. Diving in, she swam in long, powerful
strokes to the far end, did a racing turn and came back. Although she
hadn't intended to swim, she was enjoying it so she kept on going back and
forth.

Kathy thought about the problems with the architects and engineers.
They had insisted that a pool of the size she wanted couldn't possibly be
suspended. She pointed out that the Payne-Whitney Gym at Yale had a
50-meter pool a lot wider than hers up in the tower. The architect said
there was no way such a large area could be provided with the privacy she
insisted upon. She told them to consider it a challenge. The engineer
finally allowed that it could be done but it would be too expensive. She
archly reminded him that cost was her problem, not his.

In the end, the architect was proud of his design, and the engineer of
his accomplishment. Now both were miffed because she refused to allow it
to be photographed for the shelter magazines or the engineering trade
books.

She pulled herself out of the pool and picked up a huge bath towel. Why
did she derive such a sensuous pleasure from something as mundane as a
large, fluffy towel? Glancing at a clock she saw it was time to get ready
to meet Peter Mahoney, the District Attorney of Norfolk County. She
wondered if she would have to live in Norfolk. Both Norfolk and Virginia
Beach were city/counties. The borders of the cities and their respective
counties were co-terminus. She dressed in a cotton seersucker suit she
thought would be appropriate for the weather. Then she got in her car,
drove to the Expressway and headed for Norfolk.

Peter Mahoney came out of his office to greet her as soon as she was
announced. Kathy was pleased. She hated officious people who kept
visitors waiting just to show they were very busy. Peter shook hands and
ushered her into his office and into a chair. Going behind his desk, he
sat down and studied Kathy intently.

Kathy sat upright in her chair and waited.

"My God, everything I've heard about you is true! After you wrote and
we talked, I checked at the law school. At first some of my friends
thought I was joking when I said I had hired you. They confirmed the
$80,000 offer, by the way. In fact, the guy I talked to said that firm was
willing to go to $100,000 to get you. You are a graduate of Yale
University and University of Virginia Law School, both summa cum laude.
You are a beautiful girl. What, in the name of God, are you doing here?"

"Mr. Mahoney..."

"Everyone calls me Pete or Peter. I don't answer quickly to 'Mr.
Mahoney.'"

"Peter, I want to be involved in criminal law. I grew up in Norfolk. I
heard that you have trouble hiring staff attorneys. I thought I could
help." Kathy looked down at her hands which were folded in her lap.

Mahoney stared at her. "You scare me, Kathy. May I call you Kathy?
You are the most beautiful girl to come into this office since I've been
here at least, and probably forever.

"Kathy, the DA's office deals with the scum of the earth: the rapists,
the robbers, the muggers, the drug dealers. You name it. If it's a
felony, we get them. And Kathy, they aren't nice people. A cheap hoodlum
kills two people knocking over their grocery store and I hear these
bleeding hearts bleating, 'How did society fail this poor boy?' I could
vomit! Society didn't fail him. There are exceptions, of course, but
there is an English word that isn't used much any more, but which fits: The
word is 'evil.' Kathy, there's a lot of evil that ends up in this office.
I'm not sure you can take it."

Kathy showed concern. "Are you withdrawing your offer, then, sir?"

Peter smiled. "Kathy, I'm not completely crazy. Of course not. You
are the most highly qualified lawyer to join our staff, probably in this
century. I take that back. There have been some good ones just passing
through on their way to a career in politics. Are you headed for politics?
I think you would get every male eligible to vote.

"Of course, I'm not sure of the women's vote," he added with a grin.
"Are you a libber?"

"By that do you mean do I burn bras and kick a man in the groin if he
opens a door or holds a chair? No, I don't. I believe God made man and
woman equal, but he sure didn't make them the same!"

"Kathy, I think you may do," he said with a grin. He opened a desk
drawer and pulled out a bottle of bourbon and two not-very-clean glasses.
"Will you join me in a drink to our association?"

"I certainly will! With pleasure," she replied.

Peter reached across the desk extending his hand. Kathy took it in a
firm grip and they shook on it. Peter poured two stiff drinks, and lifted
his glass in a toast, "To the newest assistant district attorney of Norfolk
County. Effective September first, of course." He drained his glass in a
gulp.

Kathy lifted her cup, "Thank you, sir. I'm looking forward to it." She
raised her glass and drained it without a sound.

Peter's mouth formed a silent, "Wow." He continued to study her.
"You'll need to get a weapon. We'll take care of the carry permit." He
expected to get a strong reaction.

What he got was the same reaction she would have given if he said she
needed a new dress. "Would a .38 with a 4-inch barrel be okay?
Hammerless, so it won't hang up in my purse?"

"Kathy, do you know what you're talking about? I don't think you've
ever fired a weapon in your life!"

"May I use your telephone for a credit-card call, please?"

Mahoney just nodded. Kathy punched 'O' followed by a ten-digit number;
following a pause, she punched in her credit card number. A few moments
later the telephone was answered.

"Hello, this is Kathy Smith calling. By any chance is Dean Mansfield
free? Thank you very much." A few moments later she said, "Dean Mansfield,
it's good to talk to you. I'm calling because I have a favor to ask. I'm
in the office of the Norfolk, Virginia, District Attorney. I will be
starting in September as one of his assistants. However, I'm afraid he
thinks I'm breakable. Could you take a few moments and tell him about the
contest? Thanks so much, sir. He's right here."

Kathy handed the receiver to Peter, sat back in her chair, and listened
to the one-sided conversation. First there was a period of silence after
the opening hellos as the dean told about the contest. She smiled to
herself as expressions of incredulity passed over Peter's face. Then there
were a series of questions: her times in the races, her score on the range:
"Twenty-three bulls-eyes in twenty-five shots! Unbelievable!" and the
encounter with Sophie: "How big did you say she was? In two blows and
fewer seconds."

He thanked the Dean for his time and for the information and hung up.
"I give up. The Dean says you are the most remarkable person he has ever
met. Incidentally, I think he loves you like a daughter. As far as the
weapon is concerned, I was just teasing you, but now I think it is a good
idea. I'll check with the plainclothes force and see what's good in
women's weapons these days. I gather, you're not interested in a bra or
garter holster?"

Kathy laughed and relaxed again. "Peter, I'm single. What do you think
a guy would do if he was groping at my bra and came up with a .38? I
really don't want to find out. The purse will do just fine." She got up to
leave. "I hope to pass the bar before I report for work. In the meantime,
let me know what type of weapon you want me to have and where to get it."
She stuck out her hand, "I'm looking forward to working for you. And thank
you for giving me the opportunity."

Peter shook her hand and opened the door. He realized that he usually
made a point of _not_ opening doors for women. _What is there about Kathy
that makes it seem to be the most natural thing in the world?_ He scratched
his head in puzzlement while he watched her ass subtly swing as she walked
away down the hall.

As long as she was downtown, Kathy decided to drop by Bob Ferguson's
office. It was in a bank building overlooking the Omni and Harborside with
Portsmouth across the bay. After parking near the bank she walked past the
monument to the last encampment of the Confederate War Veterans in the
square behind the bank. She paused and looked up at the statues of the
Confederate soldiers on the monument and the names of some of the battles
in which they fought.

She thought of that time long ago when so many young men lost their
lives each fighting for what he thought was right: preservation of the
Union for the North, and States Rights for the South. She reflected on the
war. She had studied it in school, of course, but later her interest had
deepened. She used her spare time while at Charlottesville to visit many
of the battlefields spread all over northern Virginia.

_There is scarcely a square foot of land here over which men's blood has
not been shed,_ she thought. She turned away thinking that about the only
thing the war had established was that Lee's Army of Northern Virginia was
the best damned light infantry the world had ever seen. _These men were
the crackers, the rednecks, the poor white trash. But God, could they
fight!_ Coming back to the present, she realized that the descendants of
those men still made the most loyal friends and most implacable enemies.
_Anyone who unnecessarily gets crosswise with one of these people is
fourteen kinds of fool!_

Entering the building, she went up to Ferguson's office. She knew Bob
was out of town on vacation but she was sure Mrs. Wilson would be there.
Ferguson maintained an office for Kathy's use which she used mainly as a
place to keep her files and records. She walked in, smiled at the
receptionist and walked back to Bob's office. His was in the corner while
Kathy had an adjacent office with a view of the harbor. Mrs. Wilson took
care of any secretarial services Kathy needed.

As she walked down the hall, Mrs. Wilson rose from behind her desk.
She greeted Kathy warmly and followed her into her office, carrying her
ever-present steno pad. Kathy went behind her desk, sat down and started
to thumb through the mail waiting for her while Mrs. Wilson sat in a chair
opposite.

Kathy heard a sniffling noise and looked up. Mrs. Wilson was holding a
tissue to her face and was obviously crying. Kathy rushed around the desk,
knelt in front of her and asked, "What's wrong, Mrs. Wilson? What's
happened?"

At that, the woman broke down completely. She was crying as if her
heart would break. Kathy helped her up and took her over to the couch.
They sat down and she held the older woman as she cried. Finally she cried
herself out and stopped, but Kathy continued to hold her until she could
feel the heaving stop and her breathing return to normal.

"What is this all about? Please tell me what's wrong." Kathy found a
box of tissues and passed one to Mrs. Wilson along with the rest of the
box.

"It's Mr. Ferguson, Miss. I'm scared."

"Before we go any further, my name is Kathy. What's your first name?
I'm ashamed to say I don't even know."

"It's Jane, Kathy."

"Now, Jane," continued Kathy, "What about Bob? What's he done, or what
is he about to do?"

"He's getting involved with a woman. She's the wrong type. She'll ruin
him. I don't know what to do," Jane wailed.

"Come on, Jane. Don't turn on the waterworks again or you'll get me
started." Kathy suddenly understood. "You love him, don't you?" Jane
nodded, miserably. "Well, what are you doing to trap him, for God's sake!"

Jane's head jerked. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"

Kathy replied, "If I loved a man the way you obviously love Bob
Ferguson, I wouldn't be sitting here at a desk while he's on vacation. I
would be chasing him. Where is he anyway?"

"At the Greenbrier," Jane replied softly.

"Is this other woman with him?" Kathy asked.

"She's not staying in his room, but I think she's at the hotel," she
replied.

"You still haven't answered my question. What are you doing to catch
Bob Ferguson and marry him? I want an answer," Kathy demanded.

Jane looked up in alarm. The poor woman didn't know what to say. Kathy
asked her about her background. All she only knew was that Jane Wilson was
a widow. She learned that Jane's husband had been a navy fighter pilot who
had been killed in a training crash. She had started to work for Bob
Ferguson shortly before Sam Jenkins died and had worked for him ever since.
Kathy remembered that Jane had been wearing black the first time she met
her but had not previously made the connection.

Kathy said, "Jane, those fighter jocks are supposed to be hot tickets.
They fly and they fuck. I hear that every minute they're ashore, they're
either in a bar or in a girl's body."

At that comment, Jane shyly smiled and nodded, keeping her head down.

Kathy continued, "So you were married to a fighter jock and kept him
happy in bed. What happened to you?"

Jane looked up, startled. "What do you mean, what happened? He was
killed."

Kathy could see Jane's eyes showing signs of new tears. "I know that,"
Kathy said brutally. "I mean what happened to you? Just look at yourself.
I can't believe that you caught a Navy fighter pilot looking and acting
like you do now. Stand up and take off your clothes!"

Jane's head jerked up as if she had been slapped. She looked at Kathy
as if she could not believe what she had just heard.

Kathy repeated, "Stand up and take off your clothes! All of them!"

Taking Jane's hand, she pulled her to her feet. Jane looked panicked as
Kathy started unbuttoning her blouse. Looking frightened, Jane released
her skirt and let it slip to the floor. Kathy had already removed Jane's
blouse while the woman stood there in a slip. Glaring at her, Kathy
motioned for her to take it off. Jane, looking terrified, pulled it over
her head.

"The rest," Kathy ordered as she started to take off her own clothes.
She moved over to the door and locked it. Kathy put her seersucker suit on
the desk, slipped off her bra and bikini and stood proudly nude.

Jane hesitated but finally unfastened her serviceable bra. Then she
stood there with one arm over her breasts and her head downcast.

Kathy could see that the woman was unable to go on. "All of it, I said.
Take everything off! Now!"

Really scared now, Jane slipped her cotton panties down to her ankles
and stepped out of them. Kathy asked Jane what her late husband's name
was. The answer was Bill. Jane stood bent over with one arm over her
breasts and her other hand covering her pubic area.

"My God! Is that the way Bill saw you? I can't believe it. He must
have seen something I haven't seen. Jane, you're lying to me. There's no
way you could have been married to a fighter pilot. It's absolutely out of
the question!"

Kathy succeeded in provoking the response she was seeking. Jane's fury
overwhelmed her fear. She stood up straight, raised her head, and
screamed, "You little bitch! What do you know about a marriage? Bill and
I were good together. Why, the night before he died, neither of us slept a
wink." With the memory of the night, Jane started to sink back into tears.
She covered her face with her hands and started to cry again.

Kathy looked at her. She saw a middle-aged woman who could have been
very attractive, but who had allowed herself to go to seed. Jane had brown
hair pulled back into a very severe style. Her clothes were utilitarian
and businesslike. Her figure could have been good; her breasts were still
well-shaped and firm, her pubic hair was a darker shade than her head.
Kathy noticed it was silky rather than curly. Her legs were long but were
showing fat in the thighs. Her hips were slim and her bone structure was
fine. Jane was five feet six and Kathy estimated her weight at between 135
and 140. She could easily spare ten pounds. Kathy realized that her worst
feature was her posture: Her head was normally carried tipped forward. As
a result, her shoulders slumped allowing her breasts to droop and her belly
to protrude.

Kathy decided on the spot to make Jane Wilson her summer project.

"Jane," said Kathy, removing the harshness from her voice, "stand up
straight with your back against that wall."

Jane looked up and moved to obey. Kathy was standing up straight
looking like a statue whose sculptor could not come up with an interesting
pose. As usual, she stood erect with her shoulders squared and her breasts jutting. Suddenly it registered on Jane that Kathy was also nude. She
stared at the younger girl. Her eyes traveled over Kathy's face and hair,
her breasts and slightly rounded belly, the smooth swell of her hips. Her
eyes moved down her slim legs and came back to focus on her loins. "You...
You have no pubic hair!" Jane exclaimed.

Kathy smiled at her warmly. Jane was the only person to see her bare in
years. "No. I keep it plucked. I've grown accustomed to it this way.
Now stand up straight and let me look at you." Kathy's nudity seemed to
relax Jane. When she finally put her back against the wall and stood up
straight, Kathy went over and looked at her critically. "Move your
shoulders back. Feel the wall at the tips of your shoulders. Roll your
hips back. Squeeze your butt against the wall." All this time Kathy's
hands were pulling and pushing. "Lift your head up straight. Look
straight ahead. Now hold that position!"

Kathy stepped back for a better look. She went back to the older woman
and cupped one of Jane's breasts in her hand as if she were weighing it.

Jane jerked away and went back to her frightened crouch and looked at
Kathy in horror. "What are you _doing?"_

Kathy looked at her calmly, "I'm feeling one of your tits. What did you
think I was doing?"

With that, Jane took her position against the wall. Her head was up
straight, her shoulders were back, her hips were back, and her breasts were
jutting out, proudly this time. She was inviting Kathy's exploration.

_It's going to work!_ Kathy approached her again and put her hand under
Jane's breast in the same way she had before. This time she felt a little
shiver but Jane held her position. She delicately moved her fingers up to
her nipples and tweaked them. She felt them harden under her fingers and
she could feel the older woman shake. Still she didn't move.

Kathy backed away to allow Jane to regain control while she contemplated
the woman pensively like a sculptor looking at a piece of uncut stone.
"Okay," Kathy said, "that's enough. Sit down over here and relax. I think
we can do something."

Kathy retrieved her purse, extracted a pack of cigarettes and a lighter,
returned and sat down. She offered one to Jane who automatically started
to refuse, then took one. Kathy lit them and they both took deep drags.

"Good grief," said Jane, "a couple of more steps and I'll be in the
gutter!"

Kathy grinned and jumped to her feet. She opened the bottom drawer of
her desk and retrieved a bottle of Cardhu, a 12-year-old single-malt
Scotch. She poured two stiff drinks into glasses from the credenza and
brought them back to the couch. She handed Jane one of the glasses and
said, "Now what's the last step?" The two girls started to laugh.

Kathy noticed that Jane was now ignoring her nakedness. After taking a
small sip of the Scotch, she put her head back and took a deep breath.
"This _is_ good! What is it?"

Kathy told her. Then Jane put her head back on the sofa. Her hair had
fallen free and was much longer than Kathy had realized. With her head
back, Jane's breasts were jutting out. "Now that's more like it. I'm
starting to see you as a fighter pilot's wife. You're a passionate woman,
Jane. Why did you crawl into a shell?"

"I guess it was the shock of Bill's death, Kathy. God, did I love him!
Would you believe, we spent hours together naked _in broad daylight?_ We
would make love everywhere! On the floor, in the kitchen... Once, in the
summer we went out on our terrace in the middle of the night and made love
where people could see us." Thinking about it, Jane turned brick red and
added, "Bill used to say that I was made to be fucked. Isn't that
_awful!"_

Kathy stretched and lifted her legs out straight in front of her.
Slowly, she spread them until her legs were nearly 180 degrees apart. She
held the position for a moment, slowly brought them back together, and then
lowered her feet to the floor. "No, I don't think it's awful. I think
it's great. Do you know what I dream of doing? Going out with my husband
naked and making love on our terrace with all our neighbors watching. I
can see it in my mind. They go bananas!"

Jane looked at her. "Do you really? Don't you think it's... Well,
it's..."

Kathy finished the sentence for her, "Perverted? No, I don't. I think
it's a physical expression of two people's love for each other."

"Kathy, I believe you mean that. You know, it sounds beautiful when you
say it. You don't think it's sinful? Bill used to say that if two married people were giving such pleasure to each other it couldn't be sinful. I
guess I was never that certain. What should I do?"

"Jane, now comes the sixty-four-dollar question. Do you love Bob
Ferguson? Or are you just used to him? Please be honest. Your answer is
important."

Jane looked at Kathy steadily. "I love him more than life itself. When
Belle and Sandy were killed in that crash, it nearly killed him, too. I
was in agony. I wanted to hold him close and tell him I understood. I
wanted to hold him, to comfort him..."

"To fuck him?" Kathy added softly.

Jane sat up straight. "Yes, damn it! To fuck him. To warm him inside
me. Yes, damn it, I wanted to fuck him!"

"Do you still?"

"Yes, I do. I would do it right now in front of you on your carpet if
he were here." Jane stood up and started pacing the office like a caged
tiger. _Or tigress,_ Kathy thought. _Maybe this will be easier than I
first thought._

"Sit down, Jane. We have to plot and scheme."

Jane returned to the couch, sat down, and idly picked up the cigarettes
and lighted one. She suddenly looked guilty.

Kathy said softly, "Welcome back to the human race, Jane. As for the
cigarette, I think you need it."

Jane grinned. Kathy realized that she really had a lovely smile and
probably had a good sense of humor that was starting to resurface after so
many years. Kathy continued, "There are a few ground rules. First, you
are my project. You are going to be my wedding gift to Bob." She started
to laugh at the thought of the bride being the wedding gift to the groom.

Jane realized instantly the reason for Kathy's laughter and joined in.
They were soon howling. The tension was now gone completely. "Back to the
ground rules. Because you're my gift, we're playing with my money." Kathy
put up her hand as Jane was about to protest. "Jane, you pay most of my
bills for me. As a result, you know better than anybody else that my bank
balance just grows by itself. Right?" Jane nodded.

"Okay, that's settled. The next thing is that you'll have to trust me
and do as I say. I think you'll quickly see what I'm doing, but you have
to trust me." Jane nodded again. "Okay, then, let's get started. When is
Bob due back?"

"Next Monday," Jane replied.

"We've got to get him to change his plans. I have an idea! Haven't I
seen Bob entering some of those sweepstakes that come in the mail?"

"Every one," she replied with a grin. "I tease him about it, but he
says that sooner or later he's going to get lucky and win one. And
besides, he says, it only takes a first-class stamp."

Kathy went to her desk, checked her Rolodex, and dialed a number.
"Mike, it's Kathy. How's the travel business? Good. Mike, I have a favor
to ask. Don't worry, it will even make you some money. Mike, I need the
longest cruise combination you can put together for one person. It has to
be full deluxe, everything included. Ideally, it should run into August.
The vital thing is, though, the client must leave this Sunday.

"I think there is a combination of cruises that can be put together in
the Med operating on the QEII that could work. If you have to send the
client on a wild goose chase through Europe to get the sailing dates right
it's okay, but he must leave this Sunday.

"Another thing. Take all the time you need, but I must have
confirmation that it can be done within thirty minutes." Kathy was silent
for a few minutes smiling at the reaction from Mike on the phone. "Of
course it's not easy! If it were easy, I would do it myself and pocket the
commission. Thanks, Mike. I'm in my office downtown. I'll wait here to
hear from you." She put the phone back on its hook.

"Mike will be back to us as you heard. Then you are going to put on
your Mrs. Wilson professional voice and call Bob at the Greenbrier. He's
won the grand prize in the... Oh well, we'll make up something. It's a
good thing he enters so many contests. He couldn't possibly remember the
prize structures of all of them. Now here's the trick. He's the
_substitute_ grand prize winner. The trip must be taken now, all
arrangements are made, but he must leave Sunday."

Kathy got up from behind her desk and started pacing. Jane watched the
grace with which she moved and felt a bit jealous. _She's so fluid, so
unconcerned,_ she thought. Then, with a start Jane realized that Kathy was
absolutely unaware of her nudity. It was a revelation to Jane to see a
woman who could be as self-assured without clothes as with them. Jane got
off the sofa and stretched.

Kathy looked at her speculatively. "We might as well use the time while
we're waiting. I want you to walk around the office."

Jane tried to emulate Kathy's walk. She straightened her back, tried to
keep her shoulders back and her head up straight. It felt like her breasts were jutting out miles. She thought about Kathy's walk and looked at her.
Kathy's rump was on the edge of the desk and she was looking at her
thoughtfully. Her breasts were standing out proudly but Kathy was both
unaware and totally unconcerned.

Jane glanced down at her chest. She was proud to see that her breasts were nicely shaped and were not sagging at all. The older woman started
walking back and forth.

Kathy smiled, then grinned. "My God, you're walking like me. I'm
flattered!"

Jane stopped and turned towards her, putting one leg a little ahead of
the other. She then did a classic Southern curtsy, lacking only clothes.
"I'm trying, mademoiselle. Do you approve of your humble and obedient
servant?" To finish the act, Jane lowered her head until her forehead
touched her leg.

"It's perfect, Jane. Absolutely perfect! You're getting used to not
wearing clothes and you're developing pride in your body. It's the pride
that does it. Now keep it up," Kathy said as she moved to answer the
phone.

It was the travel agent with word that the plans were set. Kathy
motioned to Jane to go to her own desk and pick up so she could write down
the itinerary. Jane retrieved her steno pad and pencil and returned to her
desk. When Kathy told Mike that Jane was on, he rattled off the dates and
places. Kathy was pleased that Jane was her usually poised self on the
phone in spite of being naked at her desk. Mike hung up, and Kathy could
hear the sound of Jane's typewriter.

Then she looked up in surprise to see Jane proudly walking past her door
towards the copier. A few moments later she came back to the office and
closed the door. Her shoulders were sagging forward slightly as she stood
in front of Kathy's desk. Kathy moved her shoulders back. Jane gave a
small start and squared hers, too. Her breasts jumped to attention with
the posture change. She grinned. "How did I do, coach? Did I do okay."

"You were great, Jane. I was surprised to see you go down the hall,
though."

Jane blushed. The color rose from her belly, over her breasts to her
face. "When you motioned me to the phone, I just went to pick it up from
force of habit. It wasn't until I felt the chair seat on my bare butt that
I realized I was naked. Then I just said to hell with it and went ahead.
Kathy, it was fun walking down the hall naked even if people are seldom at
this end of the office with Bob away. Was it wicked of me?"

"Personally, I think it's great. I'm amazed at the self-confidence
you've developed in such a short time. Now, let's see how good an actress
you are. You have to call Bob at The Greenbrier."

Kathy was surprised to see Jane return to her desk to make the call.
Kathy punched the light to listen to the call with her Speaker button on so
she could hear the conversation. Jane asked for Mr. Robert Ferguson's
room. When there was no answer, she told the hotel operator that it was an
emergency. She said she was Mr. Ferguson's private secretary and it was
vital she contact Mr. Ferguson at once. Could he be paged? The
Greenbrier's paging system is as extensive as it should be for one of the
Nation's top resorts for business gatherings.

Kathy took advantage of the break in the conversation to go out to see
how Jane looked at her desk. Jane's desk was to the left, in front of
Ferguson's office. Jane was sitting with her back to Kathy's office.
Kathy watched Jane sitting up very straight in her secretarial chair,
pulling her shoulders back. As she watched, the older woman was looking
down at her breasts which were jutting out proudly. She could see Jane
smile to herself in satisfaction. Kathy went back to her phone in time to
hear the Greenbrier operator say that Mr. Ferguson had been located and
would soon be on the line.

A few minutes later Bob Ferguson picked up the phone. Jane was perfect.
She behaved exactly the way a breathless secretary would behave when
passing on such exciting news. As she relayed the itinerary, Kathy
switched off the speaker, pushed the Privacy button and dialed a call. She
spoke for a few minutes, received confirmation that her request would be
carried out and then hung up. She resumed listening in on Jane's
conversation as the arrangements were completed.

Jane hung up and came running back into the office. Kathy met her
halfway and the two women embraced. As they did Kathy took the opportunity
to reach down and squeeze the older woman's buns.

Jane looked startled. Kathy told her that her breasts were in good
shape but her buns and thighs needed work. She ran her hand over her belly
and told her it was rounder than it should be. "Overall, Jane, you show
promise, but you still need work. Let's go to my place."

As the two women put on their clothes, Kathy saw Jane frown at hers,
particularly at her underwear. Obviously, the woman's attitudes had
changed dramatically. Jane ensured that the office was locked and then
they went down to Kathy's car and got in. Before starting the car Kathy
faced the older woman. "Jane, I want to swing by your place and get some
clothes. For this project to work best you'll have to live with me." Jane
looked startled but readily agreed.

They drove out the Expressway to Virginia Beach where Jane owned a small
house. It was a long distance from Kathy's and reflected the fact that it
is one of the nation's largest cities in area. Kathy waited in the car
while Jane went inside. A short time later she reappeared with one
medium-sized suitcase. When she put it in the back seat and climbed back
in, Kathy expressed surprise that she had only a single bag.

Jane grinned. "Maybe I'm taking a lot for granted. I have a business
wardrobe that is sort of drab but serviceable. As for the rest, the less
said the better. And somehow I got the feeling that I won't be wearing
many clothes around you."

Kathy grinned back, but didn't answer. When they reached her apartment,
Kathy pressed the appropriate buttons and switches. They were soon in the
private elevator going up to her apartment. When the door whooshed open
and they stepped out into the hall, Jane looked around and gaped. She put
her bag down and started walking through the apartment. Kathy stopped her.

"We have a new house rule for you, Jane. No clothes. Come on, I'll
show you your room, and you can change."

Kathy led her to a guest bedroom. It was large and furnished with a
king-size bed. It had its own bath only slightly smaller than Kathy's own.
Like Kathy's, it too opened out to the pool deck. Jane put her bag in the
closet and glanced at Kathy. Then she stripped off her clothes and hung up
her business suit. Kathy laughed as Jane took off her slip, bra and
panties and threw them into the wastebasket. Then she slipped off her
shoes, put them away and closed the closet.

Jane threw back her arms forcing her breasts out and up. "How do you
like my new uniform?"

"It shows promise. Let me get into my own and we'll take it from
there." Kathy went into her room, took off her clothes and returned to the
living room where she had left Jane. "Come on, let's eat."

Jane was surprised at dinner that night. Kathy prepared a full meal,
while Jane found herself looking at a diet special. By the time dinner was
over they realized it was late so they went to bed. Jane, exhausted by the
day's physical and emotional excitement, was asleep instantly.

The next morning Jane was rudely awakened when Kathy stripped the covers
from her. She blinked awake and was momentarily confused by her
surroundings. When she realized where she was, her features relaxed, she
stretched luxuriantly and just lay there, her eyes on Kathy. "If this
scheme doesn't work out, would you consider an alternative proposal? Could
I apply for the position of your maid, or slave, or whatever? The only
requirement is that this room has to be my compensation in the deal. No
money. Just this room."

With her hair spread on the pillow, she looked lovely, and Kathy said
so.

Jane looked at Kathy standing at the foot of the bed, "Kathy, I know
this is going to sound dumb, but you are my inspiration. I look at you
standing there like a young goddess with an awe-inspiring figure. I can't
get there, but I'm going to try like hell to get as close as I can. Let's
get with it." With that Jane bounded out of the bed and headed for her
bathroom.

Kathy was eating her breakfast when Jane came out. She made a little
face when she saw how little there was for her to eat. Then she ran her
eyes over Kathy's flat belly, her slim hips and thighs.

"Inspiration! I guess I'll live on black coffee," she said with a grin.

After breakfast, Kathy led the way into her bathroom and opened the
shower. She set the controls and motioned for Jane to get in. Jane looked
puzzled as Kathy followed her in.

"By the way, Jane, how old are you?"

"I'll be thirty-five this fall; why do you ask?" Kathy watched as a
kaleidoscope of expressions ran across Jane's face, accompanied with a
pantomime of gestures. "Of course! How old did you think I was? Forty?
Forty-five?"

With the water pouring over her, she slid down to the floor crying. The
intensity of her sobbing increased as she slid down into the corner of the
shower and just huddled there. Slowly her sobs subsided, and Kathy helped
her up while the water from the shower's myriad sprays continue to pour
over them both. Pulling Jane into her arms, she held her tightly as the
sobbing ran off into hiccoughs and finally stopped. Jane just stood there
with her head nestled in the younger woman's shoulder.

Kathy reached down and gave an available soft buttock a hard pinch.
Jane jumped with a yelp. "That's for going soft on me and turning on the
waterworks," Kathy said softly. "And in my very own waterworks, yet! The
reason I asked is that I had put your age at forty to forty-five until
yesterday. Then I saw how firm your breasts are. This morning I saw you
bound out of bed, but I figured you couldn't have been widowed eight years
ago and still be only twenty-five.

"Those fighter jocks are notorious cradle robbers, but allowing for
having been married for three years, you would have had to be fifteen when
you were married. Even those guys have _some_ standards."

Kathy started to leave the shower when she was pinched hard on her
bottom. She jumped with surprise and wheeled on Jane who was standing
behind her and grinning. "Why did you do that?" she wailed, trying to
sound hurt.

"That was for all of the gratuitous insults you've directed at Navy
fighter pilots! Cradle robbers, indeed!" Jane replied in the haughtiest
voice she could muster.

They both laughed heartily and went out to the pool deck.

As they stood poised at the end of the pool, Jane asked, "What do I do
now?"

"Just stay beside me. Don't drop back, though, or my pet shark will get
you!"

With that, Kathy smoothly entered the water in a racing dive. She heard
Jane enter with a much greater splash, and she continued to glide while she
waited for the older girl to catch up. When she did, Kathy reached out
with long arm strokes while she established a powerful kick. She found
that Jane had to take at least two strokes to her one to maintain her
position. Up and down the pool they went. Kathy was sorry to see the
older girl struggling so hard to keep up, but she didn't relent. It was
only when she saw Jane flailing and getting close to the point of
exhaustion that she stopped.

She came to the end of the pool, and in one continuous motion, touched
the wall and pulled herself out of the pool. Then she turned and saw Jane
just hanging on to the side wall gasping for breath. She waited until
Jane's breathing returned to a semblance of normal, and then reached out
her hand. When Jane grasped it, she smoothly pulled the older girl out of
the pool.

Jane took two steps and collapsed on the deck. Finally, she raised her
head and peered at Kathy, "Are we there, yet?"

"Are we where?" Kathy replied.

"China, turkey. That's where you were going, wasn't it? By the way,
I'll have you know I resent the fact that here I am dying -- I'm not sure
whether from drowning or exhaustion -- and you're not even breathing hard.
It's not fair!"

"As our late president, John F. Kennedy, once said, 'Who says the world
is fair?' Come on, we have work to do!"

Jane looked at her. "You can't be serious. That was six weeks worth in
the last hour! What do you mean, work?"

Kathy looked at Jane affectionately. She was developing a deep respect
for her spirit and good humor. "Work. We have to get you into shape.
That was just a warmup to loosen up your muscles a little. Come on, let's
go!"

Kathy tried to maintain a straight face as she led the way to her
exercise room in which there was a wide range of exercise equipment. She
set Jane up on a treadmill and later on machines to exercise her thighs and
buttocks. Finally, she set up weights for Jane to use on her shoulders,
back and chest.

The regimen continued day after day with Kathy giving Jane pointers on
her technique. After a while, combining her exercises and weight training
with improved technique, she was keeping up with Kathy in the pool. She
continued her low-calorie diet while she enviously watched Kathy devour
large meals. Periodically, Kathy would steal away to a bar exam cram
course she was taking.

One morning, Kathy came into Jane's room to awaken her in her usual
fashion by stripping off the covers. Jane stretched like an awakening
tigress and then got out of bed. Kathy studied her closely and led her
into her bathroom. The mirror covered the entire wall to the ceiling.
"Jane, look at yourself."

Jane looked in the mirror carefully for the first time in several weeks.
She scarcely recognized the reflection as herself. There was a girl there,
studying her carefully. The girl had a flat belly, tip-tilted breasts,
slim hips and slim but powerful legs. The carriage was erect and the face
was lovely. The girl's face looked a bit thin, as if she had been missing
meals.

Jane's eyes widened in amazement at the apparition. "My God! That's
me. I can't look like that. I can't, can I, Kathy?"

"That girl looks a little thin to me," said Kathy. "I think she needs a
good breakfast. Let's eat."

Jane followed Kathy out to the kitchen. There on the counter were two
man-sized breakfasts of orange juice, ham, eggs, hash brown potatoes, toast
with real butter, coffee, and real sugar. Jane sat down and started eating
with relish. When they were finished, Jane poured another cup of coffee,
pivoted her stool half around and leaned her head back against the wall.

Sensuously, she rubbed her long, slim fingers over her now-flat belly.
"God, that tasted good. Kathy, that was the most delicious meal I could
imagine. Do you have a cigarette to make it perfect?"

Kathy produced cigarettes. Jane lighted hers and took a deep drag and
slowly let it out. "Okay, I'm ready."

"Ready for what?" Kathy asked, puzzled.

"The firing squad, the slaughter house... Whatever," Jane replied
airily. "That's why you've been working on my body this way, isn't it?"
she asked with mock seriousness, desperately trying to maintain a straight
face.

"My God!" exclaimed Kathy, picking up on the gag. "It's all over. I've
failed!" she wailed. "I forgot. The Sheik who's buying you insisted that
your pubic hair be curly. What can we do?"

Jane looked down with great unconcern and ran her fingers through her
silken pubic hair. Her expression was intent as she rolled some pubic hair
around a finger. "How about a permanent? Do you think that would fix it?"
she asked in wide-eyed innocence. At that point, she and Kathy dissolved
in laughter in each other's arms.

It was just about over. After making several phone calls Kathy told
Jane to get dressed. It was the first time in weeks she had had clothes
on. Jane ignored underwear and put on the suit she had been wearing the
night she arrived. She was shocked. The suit was the best she owned and
had been hand-tailored for her. Now the shoulders were tight. When she
put on the skirt, it wouldn't stay up. It just slid down over her now-slim
hips. She called to Kathy who came in to see. The two girls rolled
together on the bed in laughter.

Kathy took Jane to a hair salon where she had made an appointment.
Jane's hair was restyled to be off her face and shortened so it was just
below her collar. A new wardrobe was assembled. Jane delighted in the
lingerie. She had noticed that Kathy characteristically wore bikini
briefs, so she bought those. There were no slips, but some half slips.
Finally, Kathy bought her several diaphanous shorty nightgowns which were
essentially transparent and reached only to her hips.

When the girls returned to the apartment, they went back to the exercise
room. After her workout, Kathy had Jane get on the massage table where she
went to work on the older woman, massaging the muscles that did not ache
nearly as much as they had a few weeks earlier.

"Jane," Kathy asked the next morning, "did you ever go down on Bill when
you were married?"

The question, coming from out of the blue, took Jane by surprise.
Again, a kaleidoscope of emotions passed over her face. Finally, she
answered, "Yes, a few times." She blushed scarlet.

"Why are you blushing?" Kathy asked.

"Because I'm embarrassed, silly. Nice girls don't do that. That's
reserved for prostitutes."

"Why is it reserved for prostitutes?" asked Kathy. "And if it is, why
did you do it with Bill?"

Jane looked confused. "Well... Because... Because we would be
together, and I looked at his male organs and... I just wanted to weigh
his balls in my hand and... His prick looked so soft and vulnerable
because we had just made love. I just wanted to kiss it to show my love.
And I... And I... did. I mean I went to kiss it, and I tasted the
juices, accidentally, and... and it went in my mouth, and I guess I licked
it. And I guess I sucked it... And then it was all hard again and in my
mouth. So I... I started to go down on it. Kathy, he just exploded. I
absolutely lost control, sucking him dry. Kathy, it was marvelous."

"Did you like the taste?" Kathy asked.

"The taste of what? Oh! You mean... You mean... Bill's semen?"

"Yes," said Kathy, "Did you?"

"Of course not... I mean..." Then Jane raised her head defiantly and
replied, "Yes! Damn it, yes, I did. It was wonderful: warm and a little
salty..."

"Then why are you ashamed?" Kathy asked quietly.

"I'm not ashamed. I mean... I mean, good girls don't... Damn it,
Kathy, I don't care what good girls do. I was just a fighter jock's hot
cunt, damn it. I was great, and he was great, and... Yes, damn it, I
loved it. I like the taste. I like the feel of it. I can still remember
it exploding in my mouth. Kathy, it was magnificent. It was nearly as
good as our exploding together with him inside me. But yes, damn it! I
like it. I'll leave now. I'll get my few things together and..."

"And what?" Kathy asked. "And most particularly, why? Why would you
possibly want to leave now?"

Jane looked confused. "Why because... because I've had a man in my
mouth... and I swallowed it, and.... and I _liked_ it. Of course I have
to go." Jane started to get up, and Kathy, gently but firmly, pushed her
back.

"You didn't ask me." Kathy said in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Didn't ask you what?" Jane asked, obviously puzzled.

"You didn't ask me if I liked it. I'll tell you anyway. Yes, I like
it. I love the taste. I like to feel the explosion in my mouth. I like to
pretend my mouth is my vagina. I like it, too!"

"But Kathy, you can't! You're not even married!" Jane wailed.

"Jane, honey, we're talking about sex, not marriage. Let's face it.
They may be related but they aren't synonymous. You had your experience in
the context of what I've gathered was a fabulous, loving marriage. I
haven't been married, but I have had the experience.

"Listening to you, Jane, I have been awed. You were making love to Bill
in every way you knew how. Worshiping his body, if you will. Listening to
you tell the story was beautiful. You were expressing your love for Bill
and his body. Jane, I'm convinced that Bill was a very lucky guy. And you
know something else? I'm sure he knew it. Now, can you do it again with
Bob Ferguson?"

Jane now understood what Kathy had been doing. She started to beam. It
was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud after a summer shower.
"Kathy, you mean that going down on a man -- on your lover -- is an
expression of the love you feel for him. And God, it does feel so good,
and leads to... Kathy Smith, you are wicked! You led me along and all
along you... you... you wanted me to see how stupid my attitudes have
been. You didn't say it was awful, I did. Kathy Smith..."

Jane drew Kathy into her arms and hugged her. "Kathy Smith, you are a
piece of work! I've been working for you for years and I liked you. You
have always been thoughtful and generous. But now... now, I love you like
a sister, but even that isn't good enough. Kathy, one of these days the
right man will come along. We'll be able to hear the explosion for miles!
You are a wonderful person!"

"Thank you, Jane Wilson, for that fine testimonial! Now, Mrs. Wilson,
ma'am, would you please get that lovely little ass of yours in gear!
You've got a plane to catch."

"I've got a _what?"_ Jane exclaimed.

"You know. Airplane. It has wings and engines and..."

"Katherine Smith, I take back everything I just said. You are
impossible! For God's sake, what plane?"

Kathy acted like she was talking to a small girl, telling her how to go
to the grocery store. "The plane to Kennedy Airport in New York,
connecting to the Swissair flight to Zurich, which connects with another
Swissair flight to Athens. Then you take the limousine that will meet you
to the port of Piraeus where you meet Bob's ship. What other plane would
you be taking?"

Kathy ducked as Jane swung at her. "By the way, you and Bob have
connecting staterooms. I expect that you won't be using separate rooms for
too long, so, Jane, when you move in with Bob, would you please tell the
purser? That way, I can get a refund on the unused portion of your
ticket."

Kathy was grinning broadly until Jane gathered her in her arms and
hugged her tightly. Kathy could hear small whimpering noises coming from
Jane and could feel the tears flowing down the older girl's cheek to her
shoulder. Kathy held her until the woman's shaking stopped.

When she pushed back, Jane's eyes were gleaming with tears. "I should
have known! You're the girl who gives her fraternity a million dollars.
You rescue stray dogs and kittens. I should have known. You know, Kathy,
I can't thank you? How can you thank a person who can re-instill youth,
love, feelings, beauty... Yes, damn it, beauty. You've made me more
beautiful than I ever dreamed I could be!"

"For God's sake, knock off the maudlin chatter and get your ass in gear!
You'll miss the damn plane and wreck my beautiful plans. And one more
thing. If I'm not the maid of honor when you marry Bob, I will shoot you!
And I've got a gun and a carry permit now, too."

Kathy was so proud of Jane at the Norfolk airport. After checking in on
the Piedmont flight to New York, she saw her walk down the concourse
towards the security checkpoint with her small ass wiggling just a bit.
Kathy smiled as she saw men's heads turn to follow her progress. At the
gate checking in for her first class seat, the gate agent saw the radiance
in her face. _I only wish she was thinking of me,_ he thought.

* * *

It was late August in Norfolk. The day was steaming when Kathy dressed
for the wedding. She was to be the maid of honor at Jane's wedding to Bob
Ferguson. She smiled as she remembered meeting Jane and Bob at Kennedy
Airport on their return flight. As they came out of the Customs area at
the International Arrivals building, Jane was beautiful and self-assured,
walking with her head up, her shoulders back and her breasts standing out
proudly. Bob Ferguson looked wonderful. He, too, was trimmer, standing
taller and obviously madly, head-over-heels in love with the apparition by
his side.

Bob was the first to see Kathy and came running over. Kathy noticed
that Jane, too, ran with a smooth runner's stride. He hugged Kathy and
burbled, "You wouldn't believe what happened. Here I am on this wonderful
cruise, but absolutely bored to tears, when who should board the ship at
Piraeus but Jane. She said it was quiet at the office and you told her to
get out so you could concentrate on the bar exams, so she found this
cruise. You see, the Queen Elizabeth runs a whole mess of cruises with
different designators, depending on where you board and where you get off.
Jane never dreamed it was the ship I was on, but anyway, we were in
adjoining cabins." Bob suddenly blushed. "After a while, we... uh, we...
well it was stupid to waste money on two cabins so... uh... well Jane
talked to the purser, and we got a big refund on her ticket."

Jane was standing behind Bob. As Kathy looked up Jane gave her a broad
wink. Kathy had chartered a plane to fly them down to Norfolk. As the
plane reached cruising altitude, Bob fell asleep. Jane unbuckled her belt
and came back to sit next to Kathy. She was absolutely radiant.

"Kathy, I feel so good. These have been the most thrilling weeks of my
life. Kathy, some days we never got out of bed. We had our meals brought
to the stateroom and just made love. Kathy, there's one thing you should
know. Do you remember when we talked about going down on a man? Well, it
tastes great when you wash it down with champagne! I think Dom Perignon is
the best."

Jane and Bob were radiant as they took their marriage vows. At the
reception, she got Bob aside to ask about the honeymoon plans. He said
that Jane had found a small island in Hawaii that was very quiet. Because
of the cruise, they were only going to be gone for a week. He hadn't been
in the office for months and really had to get back.

* * *

It was the last weekend in August. Kathy had just received word that
she had passed her bar exams with the highest grade on the test. It was
Saturday and she had to take care of a few things at the office before
starting work as an assistant district attorney. After signing in with the
security guard at the bank building Kathy went up to Ferguson's offices.

When she let herself into the outer office she found it was very hot,
very stuffy and very quiet. Then she remembered that the building's air
conditioning and ventilating systems were shut down over the weekend so the
heat of the sun coming through the windows raised the temperature
substantially. The office was eerily quiet. Kathy realized for the first
time how much noise was generated by the ventilation, typewriters, office
machines and the hum of human voices.

Quietly, she walked down the corridor and turned the corner heading for
her office. She stopped when she saw a nude female form bent over an open
filing drawer. It was Jane. Kathy slipped off her shoes and put them next
to a desk. Her feet made no noise on the carpet as she came up behind the
girl. She was intently flipping back and forth through files searching for
something.

Kathy couldn't resist. Sneaking up behind the girl, she pinched her
bottom hard. Jane gave a yelp and jumped up, rubbing her bun.

Just then Bob appeared at the office door, wearing only his trousers.
He looked at the two women he loved most in the world. Kathy looked down
and noticed signs of dampness on Jane's pubic hair.

Bob blushed. "We had some work to do today. It's awful hot in here on
Saturday, so, no one's around, so... Besides, Jane likes it this way.
She's even got me not wearing clothes."

Kathy could look past Bob and see Jane smiling. She was standing with
her breasts jutting proudly.*Chapter 12*

It was eleven o'clock on September 1 and Kathy was sitting upright in a
chair facing Peter Mahoney across his desk. While Peter glared at her as
he talked on the phone, she was a picture of alert innocence, exactly what
one would expect of the newest member of the District Attorney's staff.

Peter looked away from Kathy as he spoke. _My God,_ he thought, _this
girl could excite passion in a plaster saint!_ As noises continued from the
end of the phone, he glanced in Kathy's direction. She was sitting across
from him with her hands folded in her lap. Her dress appeared to be the
same one she had worn when they met before. It was as neat and
conservative as one could wish, the sort of thing featured for the bright
female professional on the way up. She wore no jewelry of any kind except
a watch. He had noticed earlier that it was a woman's gold Rolex.

_Clearly,_ he thought, _this girl doesn't need money or she wouldn't be
giving up about eighty grand a year to work for me._ He reflected on her
Rolex. He decided that it was typical of Kathy: beautiful, expensive, and
understated. He also realized that it was a highly functional timepiece:
accurate, shockproof and waterproof, with a very legible face.

With all of that, why was she so disturbing? The person on the other
end of the phone was the mayor. Kathy had just returned to the office.
She had been patiently standing at the office door that morning waiting for
someone to come to let her in.

Mahoney prided himself on opening the office, and yet here it was, the
Friday before the Labor Day weekend, and this lovely girl is standing at
the door waiting for him to open up. He sent her off to Personnel to
complete the forms beloved of bureaucrats everywhere. He had blown his
stack when he found out that Kathy had been in the day before to complete
the paperwork but had been told that she wasn't an employee until the next
day.

Earlier, the personnel director had called to complain. He was angry
because Kathy was starting the day before the Labor Day weekend. He wanted
to stop the processing and change the start date to the fifth so Kathy
would not be paid for the weekend. Peter smiled to himself remembering the
call. He hoped the bureaucrat had a ruptured eardrum. He delighted in
telling the director that Kathy had turned down a $100,000 job to come to
work for him at seventeen-five. A couple of bucks wouldn't break the bank,
particularly since he had just learned that Kathy stood number one on the
Commonwealth of Virginia bar exam.

The bar exam was the reason for the mayor's call. His phone had been
ringing off the hook all morning. The mayor must have been at least the
fifteenth caller. The results of the test had been released late the
previous afternoon. Rarely do bar-exam results make news, but this time
they did. The listing at the top read Katherine J. Smith, District
Attorney's Office, Norfolk.

Routinely, the top scorer would be affiliated with one of the state's
top law firms, or a national firm's Washington office inside the Beltway.
An assistant DA heading the list was obviously a "man bites dog" sort of
story. He had quickly reviewed Kathy's background for the mayor and was
accepting his congratulations on his recruiting coup.

The mayor's last words were, "I don't know how you did it Peter, but
persuading her to join your office has to be the greatest thing you've ever
done. I've always told people that you could talk the birds out of the
trees, but now even I believe it. Give her my best wishes, will you?"
Peter had not told the mayor that Kathy had found him. He hung up the
phone and turned to face her.

"That was the mayor. He asked me to extend his congratulations on your
bar exam, and welcome you. So, welcome. You have been on the payroll less
than three hours, and already you're turning this office upside down. _The
Virginian & Pilot_ is sending over a photographer for a picture. He'll be
here in a few minutes.

"Kathy Smith, you are a very interesting person. I still don't know why
you joined this office. I do know that you impress people. While you were
at personnel, the director of the police pistol range called and asked if
you could serve as his women's pistol instructor. It seems that you shot
out the lights over there, erasing every mark in their book. Incidentally,
he wants to send you to the FBI facility at Quantico for competition. It
seems you are unerring in separating the good guys from the bad guys. You
only gun the baddies apparently, and with lethal effect every time. So
much for being scared by firearms."

He picked up his telephone in response to an intercom buzz, and was told
the gentlemen of the press had arrived, so he and Kathy went out to meet
them.

The paper had sent over a reporter and photographer. The reporter led
off by asking Kathy what she was going to do to stop crime.

Kathy, ignoring the snide intent of the question, responded brightly.
"I'm so glad you asked! District Attorney Mahoney has named me to a
special task force to fight violent crime."

Kathy went on to say that, using a crime-control computer installed with
Federal Law Enforcement Assistance Administration (LEAA) money, they had
completed a study of dangerous criminals. Dangerous criminals were defined
as those with three or more felony convictions or five or more felony
arrests. A run had been made of the persons matching these criteria in
Tidewater and the computer came up with a listing of 163 persons.

The list was being distributed to all law enforcement agencies in the
area. Steps were being taken to prosecute immediately anyone on the list
to the fullest extent of the law with minimum delays in going to trial.

When Kathy started speaking, a passing police reporter heard the phrase,
"special task force", and perked up his ears. He ran to the phone and made
a few calls.

Peter Mahoney was listening to Kathy's recital in growing amazement. He
was concentrating on not letting his jaw drop when his secretary ran in
with the news that film crews from the three local television stations were
on there way over.

"Mr. Mahoney, they asked if you could take a break for fifteen minutes
or so to give their crews time to get over here and set up."

Peter felt circumstances had taken events out of his control. He glared
at Kathy who returned the glare with a sweet smile. The photographer took
the break as an opportunity to get pictures of Kathy.

"Kathy," he said, "I would like you to turn a little and put your foot
up on that chair, then hike your skirt up on your thigh. You seem to have
pretty good legs. Then unbutton your jacket and turn your body. Let's see
some chest."

Kathy looked at him with an expression that almost caused Peter Mahoney
to crack up. It was a cross between what one would expect after stepping
on dog feces on the sidewalk and the response to the suggestion that she
perform a lewd and lascivious act at noon on the sidewalk of the Harborside
Mall.

"I _beg_ your pardon," Kathy said disdainfully. "I am a member of
District Attorney's professional staff. You may take an appropriate
photograph of me, or, if Mr. Mahoney is willing, of the two of us
together." She looked at Peter, who nodded. "As the most junior member of
his staff, I would be proud to stand next to him. This never would have
happened had he not so graciously invited me to join his staff."

The pictures were duly taken with Peter smiling proudly at his new
recruit. To some degree or other all DAs are political, and it never hurts
to get your picture in the paper, particularly under flattering
circumstances.

After the picture-taking, the group moved to a small auditorium that had
been commandeered for the impromptu press conference. In addition to the
TV news crews Kathy saw that representatives of other news-gathering
organizations were also present. Meanwhile, Peter had been unable to get
Kathy alone to find out what she had been talking about. On the other
hand, he was impressed with her aplomb.

She handled the news conference as if she had done nothing else for
years, so Peter decided to go along for the ride. With the news crews
ready, Kathy apologized for not having prepared visuals. The program was
too new and they had not expected television coverage. After repeating
what she had said earlier to the single reporter, she elaborated on special
arrangements that were in place to expedite the handling of the listed
criminals. Then she opened the conference to questions from the floor.

"Miss Smith, when can we get a copy of this special watch list."

"I'm sorry, sir, you cannot. The list is considered highly
confidential. However, when it is distributed, all of the law enforcement
agencies will have a copy. I think it's fair to say that those on the list
know who they are. The announcement we wish to make is that Norfolk is
going to be a safe city. The criminals preying on our citizens -- all the
muggers, the robbers, the rapists, the burglars -- know who they are. They
now face three choices: go straight, get out of town or go to prison.
Norfolk is going to be the safe city we all want it to be!"

The reporters were impressed with the obvious sincerity in Kathy's
speech, even if they were skeptical about its prospects for success. A
reporter turned to Peter, standing beside Kathy. "Mr. Mahoney, I'm Jim
Smith of WTAR. Would you please tell us who is going to be in charge of
this special unit in your office?"

"Thanks, Jim, I would be delighted to. The answer is Katherine Smith,
of course. I would like to say a few words about Kathy. She is new to our
staff, as you know. Officially she only started today, yet I'm sure it's
obvious to you all that she has been doing her homework before reporting
aboard. She represented this office in the creation of the Dangerous
Criminals list and is fully conversant with the way we intend to operate.

"We are proud to have Kathy with us. To show the caliber of talent this
office has been able to attract, I would like to acquaint you with her
background. She graduated from Yale University with highest honors after
being elected to Phi Beta Kappa. She was number one in her class at
University of Virginia Law School, and you all know that she achieved the
top grade recorded on the recent bar exam.

"This office recognizes talent. I am proud to announce that Katherine
Smith is my special assistant in charge of our newly-formed Dangerous
Criminals unit. I won't repeat Kathy's warning to our criminals. I will
only add, Amen!"

There were many more questions that Kathy fielded, detailing how the
unit would work. The crews finally packed up quickly after nearly ninety
minutes of questioning to get back to their studios to edit their tape for
the evening news shows.

When the crews left, Peter motioned Kathy to come into his office.
After she entered, he closed the door and took his seat behind the desk
while Kathy sat upright in a chair facing him, looking attentive. "Miss
Smith, would you _kindly_ tell me what that was all about? And, Kathy, for
God's sake, no injured innocence, please."

Kathy grinned, dropping her pose. "I thought it went well, didn't you?
I think we'll get a good play on tonight's news." She frowned and
continued, "It's a shame it's the Friday before Labor Day. The audience
for tonight's tv news and tomorrow's papers will be awful. It's one of the
slowest news days of the year. Peter, you should have waited and announced
it next Tuesday or Wednesday."

She ducked as Pete hurled an eraser at her head causing it to miss. She
straightened up quickly and assumed her attentive look as if nothing had
happened.

He looked at her and started to chuckle. It turned into laughter. Soon
he was roaring with laughter, leaning back in his chair. Kathy joined in.
"Slow news day, indeed. young lady, we will get more time on the news
tonight than we've had in the last five years combined. I'll settle for a
slow news day! Now, young lady, you are going to have to deliver!
Seriously, Kathy, I hope those numbers were real."

Kathy went into her briefcase, pulled out a file, and pulled her chair
around to Peter's side of the desk. He sent out for sandwiches as they
reviewed the voluminous data together. Kathy explained to him how the data
were set up, the definitions used and the limitations. She stressed that
the key was felony arrests and convictions. She pointed out that only a
small fraction of crimes resulted in arrests.

It was after five-thirty when Kathy finished her presentation, "Pete,
the key is the number of arrests against the number of reported crimes.
Either the guys on the list are the dumbest, unluckiest criminals in this
city, or -- much more likely -- we're looking at the tip of the iceberg.
For every arrest, the guy actually committed ten, twenty or even more
crimes. In business there is an eighty-twenty rule. It means that 20
percent of the customers produce 80 percent of the business. Is it
possible that it applies to crime, too? Twenty percent of the criminals
commit 80 percent of the crimes? I think they do, and I'm going to get
them!"

Peter looked at his watch. "Come on Kathy. Tonight I really want to
see the Six O'clock News!"

They closed up the office quickly and went to a nearby bar. They
entered just as the evening news was coming on the air. They were
surprised to hear that the Dangerous Criminals Task Force, as the media now
dubbed it, was the evening's lead story. Kathy was amused at the way she
appeared in the news footage while Peter was impressed.

The station they were watching -- WAVY -- had obviously dug deeper.
Although they did not have names, they had gotten numbers from the police
computer that they had used to make graphics for the show. They agreed
that the station had done an excellent job with its coverage.

When it was over and the station broke to commercials, they received a
shock. First, the patrons in the bar had been paying close attention to
the story. Second, they recognized Peter and Kathy. The crowd which was
very large for the Friday before a long weekend started cheering. They
crowded around and wished Kathy luck. She heard comments like, "It's about
time!" "It's the first crime program I've ever heard about that makes
sense." "Kathy, throw 'em in prison and lose the key."

They left the bar and took a booth in the corner. Peter wiped his
forehead with his handkerchief, put it away and looked at her steadily.
Then he asked to see her weapon. Kathy slipped a stainless steel .38 out
of her special purse and passed it to him butt first, making sure to keep
it out of the sight of the other patrons.

Peter examined it carefully. "What is this? I can't ever recall seeing
a piece like this before."

"It's a new weapon from Smith & Wesson called the LadySmith. As you
see, it has a four-inch barrel and stainless steel construction. I carry
it in this purse I ordered from Texas. It's designed to keep the gun away
from the other junk I carry. How do you like my lethal new friend?"

"Kathy, I just hope you never have to use it! After watching the news
film, though, I'm glad I got that call from the police pistol-range
officer. Kathy, you're set up as a target, now. You declared war on the
worst of the scum infesting this city. And you did it on television, yet.
Remember, young lady: They're scum and they're vicious.

"Kathy, do you remember what I said when you were in my office in the
spring? They are evil. I wouldn't be surprised if at least some of those
maggots decide that the best way to end this war is to gun down its
commanding officer. That's you!"

Kathy realized that Pete wasn't trying to scare her, but was expressing
how he really felt. She replied, "Pete, I understand, and I appreciate
your concern. I promise I'll be careful. I won't say something stupid
like, 'They can't touch me.' I know they can. So I promise to stay out of
trouble as much as I can."

"Kathy, I believe you. I sort of expected some show of bravado, I
guess, but you're too smart for that. You are brave. Period. You know
something? I think this Task Force idea might work. I am certain, though,
win or lose you are the best person for the job. Shake on it?" Peter
extended his hand and was pleasantly surprised at the strength of Kathy's
grip.

"Thank you, Peter, for giving me the chance. I promise I'll do my
best."

"Let's go home, Kathy. It's a long weekend, remember?"

* * *

Kathy was at home in her library playing with her electronic toys.
There was a normal-appearing television set on a shelf in built-in
cabinets, but it wasn't normal. Pressing a button raised a sliding panel
above the set. Behind the panel were two additional tv sets. Using a
remote control unit, Kathy could watch the three network channels
simultaneously; the audio came from whichever channel was displayed on the
main screen.

It was after eleven o'clock and she was using the device to watch the
three newscasts for coverage of the Dangerous Criminals Task Force. At the
same time, a bank of videotape machines in the ventilated cabinet below
were recording all three programs. Kathy smiled to herself thinking about
her electronic overkill. The three operating tape units were in a bank of
six. The other three -- now idle -- were there against the possibility
that she might want to tape cable channels as well. She was surprised to
see that the coverage was even more extensive than she had seen at six
o'clock. If broad publicity could be of value to her program, she was
getting the best that could be hoped for.

Just then the telephone rang and Kathy picked it up. A familiar woman's
voice was on the phone, but Kathy couldn't immediately place it. It
certainly wasn't Jane. "May I speak with Katherine Smith, please?"

"This is Kathy Smith," she answered, sounding puzzled.

"Kathy, this is Julie. Do you remember me?"

Memories came back in a flood. How could she ever forget the large
woman with whom she lived for so many years. How many years? For some
reason Kathy had never been sure. "Of course I remember you, Julie. How
have you been? Where are you? How are the girls? Are you still in the
business?" The questions just bubbled out. This was the first time she had
spoken to Julie since she left the house -- how long ago? -- in eight
years.

She heard the familiar laugh she had not heard for such a long time.
"Slow down, honey. I'm fine. I'm in a new house. Or at least at a new
location. You may not know it, but the old house was leveled for urban
renewal five years ago. I don't think you want to know where I am now.
With your new job you'd close me down and I'm too old to go into another
line of work. As far as the girls go, there aren't any who were here when
you were. This is not a business where a girl ages gracefully.

"I saw you on television tonight and I had to call you. Honey, you are
so beautiful! And I'm so proud! There was the district attorney himself
introducing his new special assistant, Katherine Smith. Kathy, your
achievements! Yale University, and University of Virginia Law School. My
God! And in only eight years.

"There's more. First, I'm the only one around who knows where you came
from. The _only_ one. And I'm not saying anything to anyone. Second, I
want you to know that you're doing a wonderful thing, and I sure hope you
succeed. I know you have a hard time believing this, but it's true.

"I'll bet you never thought of it this way, but those vicious scum wreck
my business. Face it: Places like I run aren't in the best part of town.
We're in their territory. They attack my girls and they attack my
customers. I hope you put 'em all in prison!

"I guess you know by now that we operate pretty much in the open. My
girls aren't hoity-toity call girls; customers come here. Payments for
certain people to look the other way or not see certain things are a cost
of doing business. The owner takes care of things like that. I don't know
who's involved and I don't want to know. But, Kathy, we hear things.
We're not on the right side of the law but it's in our interest to get
these dangerous scum off the streets. If I hear anything that sounds
useful, I'll pass it on. Do you have an answering machine on this line?"

"Yes, I do," Kathy replied.

"Great. Now that I've talked to you again, you'll recognize my voice. I
won't leave any identification, just the message I think you should hear.
Be careful, Kathy! They might come after you. I still love you, baby.
Good night."

The connection clicked off. Kathy reflected on the conversation. Julie
must have some very well-connected friends to obtain her unlisted phone
number. However, she was not sure that even the phone company knew where
her telephone was really located. Her line ran to another address blocks
away. A private wire linked to her apartment. She tried to summarize her
feelings about Julie but could not. She did believe that she could and
would maintain her secret.

The weeks following Labor Day were busy ones. Pete assigned two
assistants to work with her. Because of the public announcement of her
appointment, there was no question raised about her authority; they did
their work.

After the List had been circulated to police units, Kathy scheduled a
series of meetings including both unit commanders and patrol units. She
quickly discovered that she would have to produce a success quickly or lose
them. The police -- both male and female -- fully supported the effort.
They sincerely wanted to protect the people and the men on the Dangerous
Criminals list were immediately recognized as the ones to get.

However, Kathy discovered what she started to think of as the "Washday
Miracle" syndrome: Yet another new laundry detergent is introduced to the
disdainful reaction, "Oh boy. Another washday miracle." The officers
wanted to put these targeted men away but had been trying to do so for
years. Any number of special campaigns, usually announced with great
fanfare, had started... and failed. Worst of all, she sensed a pervasive
attitude, "The good guys are losing." She felt she had to have a success.

The first break came on September seventh, a Thursday. Kathy had just
finished her first week, although Monday had been Labor Day. She received
a call at her apartment from one of the district stations. One of the men on the List had been picked up by a patrol unit responding to the silent
alarm in a jewelry store. Kathy was at the station twenty minutes later.
She supervised the questioning and personally handled the bail hearing.

When the judge was about to release the accused, Horace Brown, on his
own recognizance, Kathy contested his release on the grounds that Brown was
already out on parole. He had been released from prison less than six
months before. Furthermore, Brown was already free on his own recognizance
awaiting trial on an Armed Robbery arrest only six weeks before.
Accordingly, the State wanted Brown held without bail to await trial, or
failing that, wanted cash bail set at a minimum of $100,000.

The judge recessed the court for ten minutes and went to his chambers. A
few minutes later the court reconvened. The judge ordered Brown held in
jail pending the posting of cash bail set at $100,000. Bail was not
produced and Brown went to jail.

Kathy wondered who the judge had called from his office but it didn't
matter. The publicity of the previous weekend was working. Better still,
the news media, sensing strong public interest and support -- and hence
ratings or circulation -- were maintaining their interest. Kathy saw a
couple of reporters race for the telephones when the high bail was set.

When she returned to her apartment she saw there was a message on her
answering machine. She recognized Julie's voice, "Hon, I thought you would
like to know. Word on the street is that Horace Brown is pissed. He was
trying to make a score to pay the lawyer who's supposed to defend him in
his armed robbery trial! Keep it up, kid!"

Kathy laughed and fell into bed.

The morning news led off with the story of Brown's arrest. The morning
news anchorman reported, "Authorities will neither confirm nor deny, but
the report is that Brown is a name on the Dangerous Criminals list.
Assistant District Attorney Katherine Smith, director of the unit,
personally appeared to contest Brown's release from custody on his own
recognizance. Such a release without posting bail has been the procedure
that informed observers tell us is normal in such cases." A still picture of Kathy had appeared when her name was mentioned. There was also a mug
shot of Brown along with a review of his recent arrests.

When Kathy arrived at the office in the morning, Pete gave her the
thumbs-up sign from his office while he was talking on the phone. Kathy
met quickly with her assistants and assigned one to the Brown case.

"Jerry, there will be no plea bargains, nor will the State ask for any
continuances. I want you to prepare for trial as soon as possible and file
this morning for the first available trial date. After you do that, check
on his robbery bust. Let's see if we can take over that prosecution, too.
It's a heavier rap than burglary."

The next morning Kathy saw a squib in the paper that caused her to
chuckle. It seemed that the attorney scheduled to represent Brown in his
armed robbery trial had withdrawn from the case which had been reassigned
to her unit. Kathy personally handled the prosecution and obtained a
conviction. Brown was sentenced to twenty years to life on the robbery
charge and the burglary charge was still awaiting trial. Kathy refused to
drop it. She was delighted at the effect of the Brown case on the police.

A few days later, everyone -- including the press and the public -- was
delighted when one of the men on the List was arrested for littering, and
with an assistant district attorney appearing for the State, was given the
maximum punishment, a $100 fine.

This was the subject of the lead editorial in the paper the next day.
The editorial writer commented that the word was that Kathy Smith was going
after the people on the List and would prosecute everything. Going after
littering and insisting on the maximum penalty suggested she was serious.
The names on the list were never released, but Kathy and her assistants
were considered the bloodhounds. Whenever they appeared the individual was
considered to be on the Dangerous Criminals List.

Kathy met with Peter Mahoney. Pete was grinning at her. "Kathy, you
are getting it done. It is absolutely brilliant. You started with that
press conference. You've been playing the media like a keyboard virtuoso.
You have the public behind you and the media supporting you. Most
important of all, Kathy, I think you have the cops on patrol starting to
believe in you. They are the hardest ones to sell because they've heard so
much talk and seen so little action. You know, I'm really proud of the
selling job I did to get you in here!"

He grinned broadly. "But then His Honor, the mayor himself, said I can
talk the birds out of the trees."

Kathy stuck out her tongue at him, and he howled with laughter.

The program moved ahead. By mid-November, they had registered two
convictions and had twenty-three others awaiting trial. A local paper
started running a Target Scoreboard with the number, 163, in the center of
a target. Below was a bar chart with three bars. The first was the number
on Kathy's list, 163. Below was a bar for those awaiting trial, now
standing at twenty-three, and one below for convictions, now numbering two.
Below that was a space for acquittals, dismissals, etc., showing a zero.

On a Friday night in late November, Kathy got home to her apartment at
seven-thirty. She smiled to herself thinking that, given the hours she had
been keeping since starting the job, she had only worked half a day.

She thought of her lunch with Jane Ferguson earlier in the week. They
had a window table at a luncheon club on the top floor of the bank building
where Jane worked. Kathy was seated with her back to the window with Jane
facing her. She looked at her and smiled warmly. "I have never seen you
look so beautiful, Jane. You are positively radiant!"

Jane was wearing a light grey wool dress with a white cashmere cardigan.
Kathy was certain there wasn't much underneath it. The older girl was
sitting upright in the chair with her shoulders back and her head up. In
spite of the date, she still had a nice tan. Her brown hair showed golden
sun streaks which looked beautiful.

Jane smiled warmly. "Kathy, I just want to state the obvious. First, I
love you and consider you my closest friend in the world. By the way, I
never had the chance to thank you adequately for giving me a key to your
apartment. I'm a little concerned, though," she added with a mock frown.
"I offered to be your maid, or your slave, or anything else if I could only
keep the room. Since I still have the room, am I your slave? I'm only
asking, and it really doesn't matter much -- maid or slave -- but I haven't
told Bob yet. What should I tell him?"

In view of their very proper surroundings, Kathy was doing her best to
swallow her laughter as Jane went through her very straight-faced comic
recital. When Jane finished, Kathy gave her the sweetest possible smile
and said, "It's lucky for you, dear, there are so many people here, or I
would throw a roll at you! And you know how hard they are!" Jane grinned
broadly and Kathy added, "Furthermore, it's unfair! You're sitting with
your back to the room. They can't see you so you can get away with
murderS!"

That crack caused Jane to laugh as she was taking a sip of water. The
result was that the water sprayed in Kathy's face. While Jane laughed even
harder, doing her best to remain still in her chair, Kathy wiped her face
with her napkin. "Boy, I can't take you anywhere!"

The two friends just grinned affably at each other. "Seriously, Jane, I
wanted to thank you for taking such care of my business affairs. I
honestly don't know how my bills would be paid if you didn't do it for me."

Jane thought for a moment and then appeared to be thinking out loud,
"Well, let's see... She gave me back my self respect, took about ten years
off my appearance..."

Kathy interrupted, "Twenty years."

"Well, fifteen maybe," Jane continued, "got me married... but... I
don't know. Now there's been a dramatic increase in internal wear and
tear, so there's an offset... Let's me use her private pool, exercise
equipment, apartment... Yeah, that's about right.

"Now, against that I write her checks at least once a month...
Sometimes more. Or at least the computer does, but I have to push the
buttons all by myself... and... and I have to sign them all _by hand."_

Jane appeared to come out of her reverie. "You know Kathy, you're
absolutely right! Please buy me a check signer with a signature plate?
You can't appreciate how hard it is to sign your name... by hand... _in
ink!_ It wears a girl out. It really does."

Kathy shook her head and grinned. "Okay, I know when I'm licked. I'll
let you know about the other thing. I think 'slave' sounds kind of nice,
though, don't you?" Jane daintily stuck out her tongue. "See, there you go
again! Next time I get to sit facing the window."

Then Jane's facial expression changed as she changed the subject:
"Seriously, Kathy, there are some things I wanted to talk about. First,
Bob and I would like you to spend Thanksgiving with us. Would you please?
It's our first Thanksgiving together and it's special. All kidding aside,
you made it happen. And Bob is looking younger every day. He claims it's
the exercise.

"Second, we are so proud and impressed with what you're doing in the
DA's office. You know Bob's well-connected politically around the state.
Some people who are never impressed by anything are starting to be
impressed by you. You know the ones: the court house types who are always
there. The guys who never change are starting to think about changing.
Bob is really impressed, and not just because it's you, Kathy. Honest.

"Finally, Kathy, a new subject: Bob got a call early this week from a
man named Charley McCann who owns a bar near the Naval Base. It does a
great business with the sailors, I understand. Of course, I don't know
anything about sailors." Jane rolled her eyes and continued, "At any rate,
he needs some financial help, and he called because he was an old friend of
Sam Jenkins. Bob remembers Sam speaking of him as his oldest friend. Do
you think you might be able to do something for him?"

"Of course, Jane. Give me his name, address, and phone number. I'll go
see him. By the way, are you going to continue to be Bob's secretary?"

Jane, who had been neatly writing out Charley McCann's name and address,
looked up at Kathy as if she had a screw loose. "Lady, are you crazy? Do
you think for one minute I would quit and let my oversexed husband bed
someone else on the office sofa every afternoon? Speaking of which, I
better get back. Bob is very easygoing provided I'm there for my principal
duties of the day." Jane gave a big wink and allowed Kathy to see her
rubbing her groin.

When she returned to her apartment, Kathy stripped off her clothes, and
took a quick shower. _My Lord, I have this beautiful shower but it has
been months since I've been able to really enjoy it,_ she thought. With
her hair wrapped in a towel, she picked up the phone and called Charley
McCann.

The phone was answered with the words, "Charley's place." Kathy asked to
speak to Mr. McCann. An older voice came on the phone, "This is Charley."

"Mr. McCann, this is Kathy Smith calling. I understand that you spoke
with Bob Ferguson earlier this week. He suggested I call you. I'm Sam
Jenkins' niece."

"Miss Smith? Good heavens! Are you the Kathy Smith I see all the time
on television? I'm honored. I would be proud to meet you any time you
say."

"Would it be convenient if I came by tomorrow afternoon? Perhaps about
four-thirty?" she replied.

"That's fine! I'll be here and it should be kind of slow then. I'm
looking forward to it."*Chapter 13*

The next afternoon Kathy drove to Charley's place and parked in the lot.
Most of the spaces were empty.

Before going in, she carefully looked around. It was a perfect location
for a bar, across from the main gate of the Naval Base. The building was
large but visibly needed work. Paint was peeling and the neon sign needed
refurbishing The parking area was pot-holed and in need of resurfacing.
There was no planting, and the place looked barren and uninviting,
particularly in the daylight.

Kathy walked in and stood at the entrance. The establishment was really
a single very large room. A partition rose to the ceiling beginning about
ten feet back from the entrance which separated the bar and lounge area on
the left from a table area on the right. There was a substantial number of
customers around the bar, but compared with the large size of the place
Charley's appeared almost empty.

As Kathy walked up to the bar, an older man tending bar at the back saw
her. He wiped his hands on his bar apron, and came hurrying down to greet
her. Kathy saw there were two bartenders working even with the small
crowd; Kathy estimated there could be five or more working when the place
was busy.

Charley lifted a hinged section of the bar and came out to greet her.
He stuck out his hand in greeting, "Hi! I'm Charley McCann, and I
certainly recognize you as Kathy Smith."

Kathy took his hand in a firm grip, while Charley studied her. He
slowly shook his head. "Some people are going to be very surprised. We
see you a lot on those television news shows and talk about you. We
thought that it was the tv makeup and lighting that made you look so good.
Boy, are the guys going to be surprised when I tell them that tv doesn't do
you justice! You're much more beautiful in person. Can I get you
something from the bar before we sit down?"

Kathy smiled warmly, and Charley could feel his heart start to melt.
"You're an Irish flatterer, Charles McCann! That's a lot of blarney! But
I would love a cold beer."

Charley blushed, retreated to the bar and returned with two bottles of
Sam Adams and chilled glasses. He led the way around to the empty table
section. After seating Kathy at a table he sat down across from her.

"Miss Smith, you must be Sam Jenkins niece. I just don't understand why
he never mentioned you to me, though. He was my closest friend. But you
are just like him. You're so warm and friendly... so natural." Charley
thought about the gloomy prosp