Mink Too, All the Riches in the World Can't Buy Love Page 6

  Then there was that suit! Susan Drummond looked like raw, uncontrolled sex in that suit. Liz wanted to remove the small pieces of the suit, one at a time, then spend the rest of the afternoon touching and tasting every part of her glorious body. It was good that they agreed to cancel the swimming lessons. There was no way she’d keep her mind on them anyway, but she also knew an affair with Susan Drummond was impossible. They were at opposite ends of the social scale. They didn’t share a damned thing! An affair with the Drummond woman was clearly impractical. Liz was always practical about her love life.

  Liz frowned as she studied the traffic flow. If that was true, why did she stare at every black sports car? She examined license plates, searching for the one that read Mink Too. “Damn that Drummond woman!” she muttered as she watched another dark sports car drive by her unmarked car, traveling at the speed limit.

  CHAPTER FOUR…Bang, bang you’re dead

  Owen Drummond Construction Inc., also known around the town as ODC, was located in a modern three-story brick structure. What impressed most people when they saw the building for the first time was the arched glass curtain wall at the entrance to the building. The glass front was three stories in height and extended across three-quarters of the width of the building. When a person looked through the glass front from the street, he or she could see the spiral staircase that led from the first floor to the second. If a person climbed the staircase and looked down, it felt like he was floating in space.

  Owen had the building specially designed to capture light. The building also contained large, tinted picture windows that were solar energy panels. The interior stainless steel framing matched the framing around the glass front and solar panels. Stark whitewalls increased the feeling of open space, making the building feel like a large, airy structure when, in reality, the space wasn’t that large.

  The first floor housed the reception area, the typing pool, and offices of the associates and engineering staff. The second floor contained his office manager, Eunice’s office, the architects’ offices, and several conference rooms. His spacious offices were on the third floor along with one conference room. Restrooms were at both ends of each floor. The building contained an elevator for use by his disabled clientele and the janitorial staff.

  The phone rang in Owen’s office. “Hello, ODC Construction. May I help you?”

  “Hi, Yvette. Is my father there?” Susan sighed as she heard the young woman’s voice. She wondered if her father had started to sleep with her yet. The hallmark of her father’s love life was sleeping with his secretaries, particularly if they were under thirty-five and good-looking. He usually made them his executive assistants. They traveled with him on business trips around the country until he ended the affair. Why couldn’t her father hire women over fifty? At least the age disparity wouldn’t be so obvious. The maturity level of the women would be there as well. Most of the women she knew over fifty would have killed her father for his cheating ways or demanded more security from him when the fun ran out. His way was a lot safer for him, Susan mused. It was infinitely cheaper on the pocketbook too, a fact not lost on her father with his obsession for the bottom line.

  “Oh, it’s you! Good afternoon, Miss Drummond. How are you? Let me check with Eunice. Hold on please,” Yvette added.

  Why couldn’t her father fall for Eunice, his ever-faithful office manager? She was a good-looking widow in her mid to late forties. She was attentive to her father’s needs. She remembered his birthdays and special occasions with little gifts and thoughtful cards. She ran the office with a sense of fairness and efficiency. She filled in for her father at meetings when he was screwing his executive assistants. Without good ole Eunice, her father’s business would have collapsed years ago. She’d bet Eunice was in love with her father. Who else would put up with his shenanigans all these years but a woman who loved him dearly? A minute later, her father came on the line and interrupted her thoughts.

  “Hello, Suzie Q. Is anything wrong at the house?”

  “Not exactly, Father.”

  “That’s not music to my ears, Suzie Q. What does ‘not exactly’ mean? No father likes to hear those words coming from his daughter’s mouth. It could mean not exactly pregnant, not exactly in jail, not exactly addicted, or not exactly in the hospital. The list goes on and on,” Owen remarked with the slightest of smiles.

  “Okay, okay! Daddy, I get the picture.” Susan sighed with regret. “It’s about the swimming lessons.”

  Owen groaned. “You didn’t drown the cop, did you?”

  “Heavens, no, Daddy! You know I can’t swim, so how could I do damage to her?” Susan whined.

  “That’s a fact at least ten swimming instructors and I have been trying to remedy over the years, Honey.” Owen sighed heavily. He could tell by the way that his daughter hesitated to introduce the subject that something was wrong. Well, she hadn’t killed or maimed the cop. She still sounded healthy. Whatever happened at poolside couldn’t be too bad. “Okay, Daughter Dear, how about you tell your old man straight out. What happened today?”

  Here goes nothing, Susan thought, drawing a deep breath. “The sergeant arrived early. We had a slight disagreement over the starting time of the lessons.” Susan closed her eyes as she remembered the overbearing woman’s striptease, then how she left before it grew interesting. “Once we resolved that, I changed and got into the pool.”

  “You made it into the water, Suzie?”

  “Yes, in the shallow end.”

  “That’s marvelous, Suzie Q! Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “I can look forward to more progress reports. Right, Suzie?”

  Susan cleared her throat. “Well … I…”

  “I know, Susan. It’s not exactly right.”

  “How did you guess, Daddy?”

  Owen sighed with regret. “I don’t ask much from you, Susan, not that you’d do it anyway. You’re stubborn, just like me. I accept responsibility for that.” He paused. “I want you to do this for me. Call the sergeant and finish the lessons.”

  “Christ, Daddy! It’s no big deal. So I can’t swim.”

  Owen lost his temper for a moment. “Damn it, Susan! Don’t you get it? I want you to finish something in your life besides that damned master’s degree you refuse to use.” He recovered his temper quickly before adding, “Please, Suzie Q, do this for your old man.”

  “Okay, Daddy. I’ll do it,” Susan said quietly. She hadn’t realized until today how disappointed he must be with her.

  They made small talk for two minutes and then Susan hung up. The next call she made was to Sheriff Reeves about the sergeant’s home address and phone number.

  Over the next two weeks, Susan Drummond left countless messages on Liz Gilmore’s answering machine that Liz chose to ignore. Susan resorted to crossing enemy lines. She waited in the police parking lot late one afternoon after making sure that Liz Gilmore was inside the stationhouse.

  Liz spotted Susan leaning against the elegant black car with the outrageous vanity plate “Mink Too.” She was dressed in snug white shorts, a white T-shirt, and expensive looking hand-sewn red leather sandals. Every cop who passed by stopped to ogle her sexy outfit. Liz watched the police parade from her office window. Several beefy cops, Black and white men, boldly came up and tried to chat it up with the good-looking woman. She was polite but distant with the cops. She seemed interested in keeping an eye on the station’s exits. Thank God Susan Drummond didn’t know about the side entrance. It wasn’t public knowledge, so there was no way she’d know. Liz decided to use it after hearing Susan was waiting for some cop in the parking lot.

  Susan frowned when two of the more persistent officers blocked her view of the front exit for a moment. She almost missed Sergeant Gilmore striding over to speak a young officer.

  Liz glanced in her direction before she got into the tricked-out car that belonged to Officer Ingrams.

  Once Susan realized Liz saw her but chose to ignore
her, she blocked the gate with her jazzy little sports car. She prevented several police cars from entering the lot and the car containing Liz from leaving when she refused to move her car. One of the officers spotted Liz in the young man’s car and walked over to have her to speak with the Drummond woman before somebody knocked some sense into her pretty ass.

  Liz refused at first. She was angry. She didn’t want to become involved in more of Susan Drummond’s crap. She remained in Ingrams’ car to watch the show for the next two minutes. She figured that Susan would tire of the honking horns and loud curses and leave the lot. When she didn’t budge, Liz climbed out of Ingrams’ car and marched over to the sports car. She sighed as she lowered her mirrored sunglasses and leaned into the driver’s side to speak. “My men wanna kick the crap out of you, you know. You’re taking a big chance coming down here on my turf like this, Miss Drummond. I could bust you for obstructing an officer in the performance of his duty by blocking this lot. Why don’t you be a good little girl and move this gorgeous piece of machinery?” she asked, stepping back to admire the sweet-looking little sports car.

  “Not until you agree to take a ride with me.” Cool hazel eyes stared up at Liz.

  Liz frowned. “I thought we settled that one two weeks ago. I avoid you and you avoid me whenever possible.”

  Ingrams honked impatiently and signaled Liz to return to his car.

  Liz waved a hand at him. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she remarked as she strode over to his car. After some discussion, Ingrams shrugged and then started his car while she returned to Susan Drummond. She slid into the passenger seat. “Okay, you got an hour of my time. After that, you’re on your own.”

  Susan reversed, then drove quickly out of the private lot. She drove back to the spot where it all started three weeks ago.

  “Hey, this is the place where I…”

  “Yes, I know.”

  Liz took off her sunglasses and pocketed them. She nervously eyed Susan Drummond. “I hope you’re not trying to get revenge or anything, Miss Drummond. I’d hate to have to hurt you.”

  “Relax, Sergeant. I need your help.” Susan pulled the little car onto the shoulder. “This was the only place I could think of that afforded us some privacy.”

  Liz warily eyed Susan. “Help with what?”

  Susan sighed, then looked at her hands on the steering wheel. “Help with my life, Sergeant Gilmore. My father says that I never finish anything.”

  Liz frowned. Why would the Drummond woman want to confess her sins today? “Well, do you?”

  “No, I haven’t in about six years. Not since my grandmother died.” Susan absently rubbed the leather steering wheel of her car with nervous hands.

  “I shouldn’t be hearing this, Miss Drummond. I don’t know you well enough.”

  “Only well enough to maul me. Right, Sarge?” Susan glared at Liz.

  Liz massaged her neck. “Christ! I knew that kiss was a big mistake. I wondered when you’d make me pay for it. That’s what this is about, isn’t it, Miss Drummond?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Sergeant. The kiss wasn’t that good. On a scale of one to ten, your kiss rated about a one or two on a good day.”

  Liz scratched the bridge of her nose as she stared at Susan Drummond, recalling the heated kiss they shared. “Unless I’ve gone totally stupid, you kissed me back. You moaned when I touched you. I don’t take you for somebody that moans unless she’s in pain or experiencing serious pleasure. We know I didn’t hurt you, Miss Drummond.” She paused for effect. “That leaves serious pleasure, Miss Drummond. I’d say your ratings scale is a little skewed, wouldn’t you?”

  Susan Drummond looked flustered for once, Liz mused. “What did you want to see me about, Miss Drummond? It must be something pretty important for you to risk setting foot on my turf.” She smiled. Her eyes softened when she said the last remark.

  “Teach me to swim, Sergeant Gilmore. I need to show my father I can finish something as small as that.” Susan frowned. “I need to convince myself I can finish a task. I know it sounds foolish to someone like you, but my father has done everything for me since I can remember. When he wasn’t volunteering to do it, I was busy drafting him. I need this. Just help me float and I’ll call the Y for the rest, Sergeant.”

  Liz stared at Susan. Was it the sincerity of her voice or the look in her eyes? Whatever it was, Susan Drummond had hooked her. She agreed to teach the “rich bitch,” as she continued to think of Susan Drummond, how to float.

  The swimming lessons didn’t change how the two women viewed each other. Sergeant Elizabeth Gilmore thought Susan Drummond was an idle rich woman who ought to fill her days with real work rather than play. In contrast, Susan Drummond found the sergeant was too pragmatic for her tastes.

  With Liz’s patient instruction, Susan learned how to put her head underwater for a few seconds at a time and not feel as though she was drowning. By end of the second week of lessons, Susan relaxed enough in the water to float. She allowed Liz to support her back as she walked slowly around the shallow end, holding her weightless body. It gave Susan the sensation that she was floating on her own. Nonetheless, whenever Liz tried to withdraw her arms, Susan panicked. She floundered around in the water, kicking feet and flailing arms, until Liz reminded her that she could stand up and walk out anytime she wanted.

  The act of teaching Susan Drummond to swim brought Liz into intimate contact with smooth, wet skin, but neither woman responded to the contact or the extraordinary kiss they’d shared almost three weeks earlier. They settled into a routine of sorts. Liz arrived at two each afternoon. She promptly changed into her bathing gear. Susan sat with her feet dangling over the side of the shallow end as she waited for her in a modest one-piece bathing suit. Liz exchanged few words with Susan except to provide guidance. There was no small talk about Susan’s day or Liz’s work. Liz thought it was an odd relationship, but a necessary one if she wanted to keep her job. As long as the Drummond woman wasn’t speeding or drowning, there would be no problem and there wasn’t.

  Three and half weeks into the swimming lessons, Liz stopped at her father’s place to visit and check on the hound dog he’d been trying to convince her to take home. He was training Skipper as a police search and rescue dog. He’d loaned the dog to Sheriff Reeves once to find a missing child. They found the child drowned under a log in the lake with Skipper’s help. The second time, her father loaned him out in a drug raid with inconclusive results. Cops found the drugs without Skipper’s help.

  Liz grinned when she drew closer to the old man’s house and heard Skipper’s deep bass baying to announce her arrival. The dog had the biggest head she’d ever seen when she found him on the road one night. Somebody nearly starved him to death and left him to die on the roadside. She remembered thinking he looked like his skinny little neck could barely hold his big head upright. She walked around the grassy yard to the back porch and found a tall, sturdy man of about sixty petting a large dog.

  “Hey, Dad, how are you and the hound dog doing?” Liz smiled as she walked into her father’s arms for a hug.

  “I should be asking you the same question, Baby Girl. How’re the lessons coming with the Drummond woman?”

  Liz sighed. “I didn’t drown her. We haven’t caught her speeding again. Notice, I said we didn’t catch her, not that she’s stopped speeding, Dad. She’s a real piece of work with a little too much time on her hands. Susan Drummond gives new meaning to the term ‘idle rich.’”

  Her father shook his head. “Lizzie, go easy on that woman. You just teach her to swim and be done with it. Okay?”

  Liz nodded, agreeing. “Yeah, Dad, I’ll try. I came by to say hello and see how Skipper’s doing.”

  Skipper barked loudly, then howled when he heard his name mentioned.

  “As you can see, he’s fine. You ought to take him home, Lizzie. He’s your dog, you know.”

  “I know, but with law school, my job, and now the damned swimming lessons, I don’t have the
time.”

  “Okay, Baby Girl, I’ll keep him for now. Just remember what I said about the Drummond woman. Ted told me that she’s one person you don’t want as an enemy.”

  Liz shrugged. “See you later, Daddy.” She strode back to her car, slid in, and eased onto the highway. It was a long, tiring day and she was heading home on the nearly empty highway.

  The large billboard announcing Owen Drummond’s latest project was looming in the distance. Liz decided to take a shortcut. It meant she’d drive by the site on her way home. She covered a yawn with a hand and continued to drive. She planned to sleep for the next twelve hours if she could. “Hey! What’s that?” she asked in a voice filled with surprise. Her headlights caught a figure standing in the middle of the unlit highway, waving his hands. She slammed on the brakes and then swerved to avoid hitting the figure. She parked on the road’s shoulder.

  Danny jumped out of the way at the last minute, then jogged over to her car.

  “Jesus, Danny! I almost hit you. What’s up?” She’d stopped several hundred yards from the entrance to the ODC construction site.

  “They asked me to watch the site until the regular guard gets here. I needed the overtime, so I said yes.” Danny frowned as he leaned against the driver’s side door. “Liz, tell me something. Do you smell anything funny?”