Engineered To Please

So she would make off often with the close-to-expired pain killers and Troy was certainly not deterred by it. "This shit's definitely gonna be used before the expiration dates." Her conscience did weigh on her, however, especially since she knew how addictive Vicodine or Percoset could be.

But Francesca couldn't get over the fact that it was a bizarre situation to suddenly be tied in with a drug dealer. She didn't feel like she was leading two lives, on paper she WAS doing just that. If in March Troy had given her that first wad of cash, by the end of May the built-up "rainy day" fund had reached $2,500. That was on top of her official income of around $2,000 a month from the clinic.

===Maestro===

For years Francesca had been aware of the reputation that her uncle had gained in the community and beyond. For the life of her, she hadn't really seen that side of Dr. Federico with her own eyes, and understandably so because after all she had been a teenager that didn't move in those circles. However, the whispers built up in middle school, starting initially with the boys (how not?) but of course spreading among the rest of the student body and even some teachers.

It started with a kid named Derek "Dirt-digger" Hayes who one day whispered to somebody that he had walked over to his own aunt and uncle's house and gone straight around the actual house to their pool. This was a better off part of the county, and he didn't expect to hear noises when he went in that he first suspected to be an intruder. Instead, he he looked over the chain link fence and saw his cousin Sherry down on all fours on one of the poolside chairs and making sounds that, he thought, were of distress. Only they were repetitive and rhythmic grunts that he soon realized were of pleasure. Standing behind Sherry was a thin, dark-haired man with an intense expression on his face who was also thrusting at about the same rhythm into Sherry.

According to the original version of the story, Dirt-digger was asked what happened next.

"Well eventually the guy finished, and they both noticed me. Sherry actually said 'Oh hey, Derek! Why'd you not come in through the front?'" Only later would anyone think that her words were situationally ironic.

Dr. Federico wasn't as genial in his reaction. "He said to me 'Ey! Maybe you wanna fuckoff and do something else?' Then he took a hand off of Sherry's ass, looked at his watch, and declared, "Da Bulls teepoff at 7:30 on WGN.' Then he went back to doing what he was doing. Eventually I hadda leave. She is my cousin after all."

At first, a lot of people in the school were skeptical of one story, especially since schools are naturally rumour mills. Francesca mildly hoped they weren't, after all it didn't do her any help to be lumped in the same family as a man dubbed by adolescent boys as "World class veterinarian: Dr. Doggy Style". Also, she knew Federico's wife as her Aunt Lynne, and imagined that the stories didn't help their marriage. Except that he earned the nickname not through the Dirt-digger Hayes' story but through somebody's follow-up account. One of Dirt-digger's best friends was Troy Busby; the same Troy Busby who years later was now into all of these shady affairs that Francesca had unwittingly become a part of. Troy at the time was two years older than Dirt-digger, and therefore a sophomore at Danville High School and a member of the AV club and the school newspaper. He made it his solemn mission to find out exactly how much of the stories were true.

Troy collected as many rumours as he could about Dr. Federico, and began to find out which one had the most facts in its favour. It wasn't easy, after the pool-side legend stories began to abound, including ones that were border-line retarded such as someone who had heard from a grounds keeper that the doctor had been receiving oral sex from a female country club member on a moving golf cart, at night, while the sprinklers were on.

Most of these stories were complete fantasy, but Troy settled on one rumour involving Diana Petersson, a florist in Danville. Since he would travel a route daily back towards Olivet he could easily discern whether she was taking that trip, as it was less likely that Dr. Federico would have time to journey up to Danville regularly.

At some point after several weeks Troy was able to track her path so that he knew where she stopped: A Days Inn between Danville and Olivet. And he staked it out one afternoon that he knew she was on her way, buying ice at the ice machine to avoid staff suspicion. He found out the room number as the clerk gave her the key, dashed to the car to get his camera, and waited. Soon a silver Audi pulled up and Dr. Federico climbed out. He smilingly found room 45, but unbeknown to him or Diana Petersson the window had been jarred open by Troy, allowing him to sneak in a hidden camera. Troy was able to angle a camera so as to perfectly capture some footage of the doctor working his special healing techniques on the florist lady.

With evidence in hand, Troy showed up at Dr. Federico's office one afternoon and dropped off a copy of the tape, demanding a payment of $5,000 to keep it secret. He was stunned when the doctor pulled out a money clip and counted out five hundred dollar bills. "Here, this is for your spending money. And you can keep the tape... cazza vai via stronzo." Troy didn't need an interpreter to know that he'd been told to fuck off.

Francesca had been pleasantly surprised that her time at the clinic had so far been uneventful two months into her employment. She rather enjoyed the work, and it gave her plenty of leisure time to focus on her hobbies of running and playing keyboards. One Tuesday afternoon, however, she had been returning some lab equipment to a storage room when she heard a whimpering sound coming from a couple doors down. She crept closer, and put her ear up to the door.

At first she suspected that it was one of Dr. Federico's patented discrete encounters, of which Francesca did not want any knowledge or involvement. However, she also realized that this was Lynne Cuoco's office, and before she could tear her ear away and go about her business, she realised that these weren't sounds of pleasure, but rather of sadness, and they were coming from a women. She turned the knob, and peeked in, seeing that it was her Aunt Lynne. She was wiping her eyes and sitting at her computer desk while a video played. When she realized that Francesca was in the room, she promptly minimized the screen, and assumed a defensive position.

"Frenchie, what the hell... I uh, mean, do you need something?" Her voice still wasn't normal.

Francesca looked behind her. "Is there something wrong, Aunt Lynne?"

Lynne was about to beg off the question, but instead sighed in resignation and her sobs just continued. "Frenchie, I dunno what the hell I still do here. When he goes and does these things... (sob)... he just doesn't give a shit... (sob)... how that reflects on me!"

"Who, Aunt Lynne? Who?" she asked, but she knew. "Is it Uncle Fre-?"

"Who else?" Lynne burst in anguish. "Look at this!"

She pulled the video back on screen. It was surveillance footage of one of the labs, and she brought the track back to the beginning. It showed Mallory Stewart entering, pulling back one of the tall lab chairs, and assuming a position kneeling on its cushion with her backside in the air. She remained in this position for the next minute or so, an odd image to look at, but Francesca began to wonder what the point was.

Finally a shadow appeared at the bottom of the screen, like that of a door opening. Dr. Federico entered, maneuvering his tall frame directly behind Mallory. He shed his lab coat and underneath was wearing a sea green cotton polo. Then he unbuckled his slacks and lowered them to his mid-thigh, revealing that he was wearing a pair of black boxer briefs.

Lynne and Francesca watched as Dr. Federico began to undo Mallory's skirt and thrust into her. Even from the back it was obvious what they were doing; the only question being which whole they were using. Eventually Lynne turned away and began chewing her nail.

"That's enough," declared Francesca finally. "I get the idea."

"Enough?" cried Lynne. "He's done it again!"

"I know -"

"He'd said he would leave her for me!"

These words confused the situation. "What do you mean 'leave her'? He's already married to you."

Lynne glanced to a side, not believing that she would finally have to explain herself. "No, no no. I mean that she would be mine. He'd leave her alone."

It took a second for Francesca to absorb this statement, but when she did the look of shock quickly spread on her face. Aunt Lynne had always been the more subtle partner in the couple by default due to her husband's sleazy reputation. But she had always cut a very dignified figure, dressing with both style and taste. Lynne's older sister Marguerite, Francesca's mother, had always claimed that Lynne's status as the baby of the kids had given her more privileges. She participated in ladies' tennis events at their local country club, whereas her husband wasn't really involved in that crowd. Also, she herself was a PhD in biology, and was just as intelligent as Federico. Francesca had never entertained the though of Lynne's own sex life, mostly because her low-key behaviour made her less noticeable than her husband. In this context it was impossible to consider her own desires, let alone her-

"You mean, he... You're a... Dr. Cuoco knows you're a-"

"A lez? Of course he knows!"

To be continued