Seducing Jennifer Pt. 17-18

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Jack and Jennifer are rescued from the police
9.5k words
4.39
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Part 15 of the 30 part series

Updated 10/29/2022
Created 04/24/2014
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jacktar48
jacktar48
278 Followers

Part 17

I stared at the phone in my hand. I had never heard Jennifer sound so terrified. And then she just hung up. I dressed hurriedly in the clothes I wore yesterday, stumbling around the room. I started for the door and stopped with my hand on the knob. Wait. Calm down. Think. It's about Anna. She had warned me that the shit was about to hit the fan...I had a horrible feeling that it just had.

I went to the closet and pulled out an old backpack. Far in the back of the closet, there was a smelly old pair of gym shoes. I dragged them out and extracted a wad of bills from the toe of one shoe. Exactly $1249 dollars. My life savings, stashed away a few dollars at a time from odd jobs, gifts, and what I had been supposed to be putting in the Sunday School offering plate for several years now. I pulled a pair of Jennifer's soiled panties and my spare condom out of the other. Best not to leave that kind of evidence behind...I suddenly realized that I might not be back. If Anna was in jail...or worse...Jennifer would need me to stay with her. And if it turned out she didn't – to hell with it. I was 18, and I'd just as soon live in a flop house as here. And when I turned up missing in the morning, coming back would probably not be an option. Rather than regret, I felt a strong sense of relief.

I began hastily cramming articles of clothing into the backpack. A couple of favorite shirts. Two pairs of faded jeans. I left the church clothes where they were. Wouldn't be needing them.

Socks and shorts from my dresser. Tattered old copy of 'Penthouse' from under the drawer. A spare belt. Odds and ends, mostly trash. My contraband copy of Mooney's 'Myths, Legends, and Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees' from behind the dresser. Oh shit. Cell phone charger. I yanked the plug out of the wall behind my bed and stuffed the wadded cord into the sack.

I stole out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the house, carefully locking the door behind me and tossing the key into the shrubbery. The longer it took for them to notice I was gone the better. I jogged off down the street, checking my phone for the time. 2:35 A.M. Fuck. I had no idea it was that late. It must be a total cluster-fuck for Jennifer to have called at this hour. I punched in her speed-dial number. No answer. I broke into a sprint, the backpack thudding against one shoulder.

When I got to Jennifer's house ten minutes later I was gasping for breath. Every light in the house was blazing, lighting up most of the deserted street. I leaped up the stairs and banged on the door. Seconds later Jennifer peeked out the curtained window and fumbled with the locks. She threw open the door and flew into my arms, wrapping her arms around my neck so tightly I thought I would strangle. She was clad only in panties and short top. "Oh God, Jack," she sobbed. "It's Momma. I'm so scared..."

I held her in my arms, her feet six inches off the floor. "Let's go inside," I croaked. "Calm down and tell me exactly what's happened." She only hugged me tighter, sobbing as if her heart would break, and finally I just carried her across the threshold and shut the door behind us. The TV in the living room was blaring, set to a 24-hour news channel.

"And in local news, a tremendous blast shattered the night outside a local nightclub," a serious-faced anchor-woman intoned. The camera panned to show a collection of fire-trucks and police cars clustered around a shabby building in the seedier part of town. Flashing lights reflected luridly off the windows of nearby pawnshops and liquor stores. "A limousine apparently exploded behind Cherry Poppers, a local 'gentlemen's club' rumored to be linked to prostitution and the sale of illegal narcotics. The limousine was a late model Bentley, possibly belonging to billionaire investor Hyman Hershkowitz. A source at the scene alleges that the Bentley apparently contains three corpses, none of which can be identified at this time, although another confidential source speculates that the occupants of the limousine were the driver, identity unknown; Mr. Hershkowitz himself, and his long-time personal assistant, Anna Crowley. It is believed that Mr. Hershkowitz and Ms. Crowley were inside the nightclub until moments before the blast and were not seen afterwards. Please note that these rumors have not been confirmed or substantiated. More news as it happens after these messages from our sponsors." The picture flicked to an advertisement featuring scantily-clad women caressing a new car and whimpering with sexual desire.

I flopped onto the couch and settled Jennifer in my lap. Her sobbing continued unabated. "Oh, Honey, I'm so sorry," I murmured into her hair. "But maybe it's not her. I can't believe it's her. It can't be her, Jennifer. It just can't." She sobbed even harder, her tears dampening my shirt.

"I don't want to believe it, but I think it might be true...," she hiccupped, trying to contain her sobs. "I got a call just before...it woke me up...some guy said, "Your mother is a whore. And she just got what she deserves. Turn on the TV. And so I did, and...Oh God, Jack! What is happening?"

The anchor-woman reappeared on the TV screen. "It's still pandemonium at the scene of the limousine explosion downtown," she said. "No official statements have yet been released, perhaps pending identification of the victims and notification of the families. And now for the local weather: back to you, Milton." A grinning weather-man appeared on the screen. "Well, folks, looks like it's been a hot time in the old town tonight. But not so hot on the weather front –" I grabbed the remote and muted the TV.

"We have to stay calm and think," I told Jennifer. "Your mom hinted to me that there might be some problems, but that we shouldn't believe any bad things we might hear about her. And she asked me to stay with you until she got things sorted out, if there was any kind of trouble. And that's what I'm here to do."

"Oh, Jack! I'm just so scared –"

"I'm here for you no matter what. For as long as you need me or want me. I'm done with my adopted parents. So I'm all yours." She raised her tear-stained face and kissed me then, clutching my neck as if she were afraid of drowning. My conscience-less cock began to rise. I was such a perv.

A thunderous banging came at the front door. I looked up, breaking the kiss. Jennifer screamed. I lifted her off my lap, deposited her on the couch, and dashed to the door, opening it a crack. Outside was a uniformed cop, backed up by a dumpy guy in a rumpled suit. The cop shoved the door open all the way, causing me to stumble backwards. They both came in, backing me up against the wall. "Well, well, what have we here," the suit guy drawled, looking over at Jennifer on the couch. "Little teenage boody call in progress?" He glared at me. "We'll sure look into that, but right now I need to talk to Anna Crowley. She here? Upstairs maybe?"

I broke out in a cold sweat. The cops. This couldn't be good. How was I supposed to deal with the cops? Besides with extreme caution?

"Mrs. Crowley is not at home, sir. But we expect her back real soon. And, uh...could I see some ID?"

"Yeah? Wise guy, huh? You like ID? Show me yours, Chief. It better say you're 18 or your ass is in a world of shit." I reached for my wallet, fumbled for my school ID card. He grabbed the wallet out of my hand and looked at the ID. "This ain't shit. Could be a fake. Where's your driver's license?"

If it was up your ass you'd know it, I thought. I was getting steamed. "I don't have it with me. I'm not driving. So I don't need it."

"How about you, little missy?" he demanded. "You got any ID on you?"

Uniform Guy snorted. "Looks like she ain't got much of anything on her, Loo. 'Cept maybe a few come stains." He chortled lewdly and ogled her tear-blotched top, then dropped his gaze to her panties.

"You over 18, girly? If not, I'm gonna have to get Social Services over here."

"Now wait a minute," I said, rage rising in my stomach. "You can't just –"

Suit Guy grabbed a fistful of my shirt and shoved his face up towards mine. He was at least six inches shorter than me, but he was obviously practiced at intimidation. "Shut yer fucking bean-hole, Tonto. And get over there and keep your hands where I can see 'em. Better yet –" he motioned to Uniform Guy – "Cuff this asshole. And make 'em nice and tight. He's obstructing a police investigation." He tried to spin me around to face the wall but I resisted. I knew I was about to get hit but I stood firm. He was drawing back his fist to punch me in the stomach when a gaunt man in a pristine suit stepped through the door behind him and caught his arm.

"Police brutality again, Lieutenant? One of these days you're going to go too far, and you'll earn yourself a long vacation at state expense – in a hotel from whence it is far more difficult to check out than it is to check in. I expect you will enjoy the company of a number of gentlemen who are there already at your behest. No doubt they will throw a lovely welcome-party for you."

Suit guy whirled to face the new arrival, reaching inside his jacket for a weapon. The gaunt man stepped back, raising his hands apologetically. Uniform guy was scrabbling at his own holstered sidearm.

"You just went too far, Dickhead," Suit Guy snarled. "You assaulted an officer of the law."

The gaunt man shrugged and showed his long teeth. "I saw you about to commit a batery upon my client, and I intervened. Now unless you have a valid warrant, I suggest we discuss this outside."

"Fuck you, Vholes. Since when do you represent this scumbag?"

"Since Anna Crowley retained me to do so," the man apparently called ' Vholes' said calmly. "Along with herself and her daughter, Jennifer." He extracted a couple of business cards from his pocket and handed them to me. I squinted at the top one and read, in gold embossed letters, 'Simon Vholes, J.D. Criminal Defense Attorney.'

"We're here to talk to the Crowley bitch." Suit Guy was beginning to sweat. I saw the droplets forming on the back of his fat neck. "So we knock on the door, and we hear the girl screaming like she might be getting raped or killed or something. So we come in. Exigent circumstances. So get the fuck out of my face. We got to check this out."

"I screamed because it sounded like they were going to kick the door down!" Jennifer wailed. "And when Jack answered the door they barged right in!"

Vholes waived a skeletal hand in Jennifer's direction, silencing her. "My clients, with the advice of their attorney, prefer not to make a statement at this time, Lieutenant. They may be available for an interview once they have had a chance to recover from the trauma of this... unreasonable home invasion."

"They can talk to me right now or they can talk to me downtown," the Lieutenant grated. "Maybe they'd like to spend the night in the tank. Freshen up there with the drunks and whores and talk to me in the morning."

"Maybe we should wake up Judge Hubbard and see if she wants to issue an arrest warrant first," Vholes said silkily. "I'll let you make that call. I know how she hates to be disturbed in the middle of the night."

"Blow me, Vholes."

"Oh my goodness! Was that a sexual proposition?"

Uniform guy grinned uneasily and shifted his feet.

"I expect you'll remember the details of this little encounter, Officer..." Vholes took a step towards Uniform Guy and squinted at his nametag, "Tinkler. We are going to want to see a full report on this. I suppose you'll be filing that at the end of your shift?"

"Well, uh, depends..."

"Shut the fuck up, Tinkler." The Lieutenant attempted to straighten his wrinkled jacket. "I need to talk to Anna Crowley."

Vholes attempted a smile. It came out more like something a shark would do just before attacking. I shivered in spite of myself. This guy was spooky. "Mrs. Crowley is not present at the moment. Now, once again, gentleman, will you please leave the premises? If you desire information regarding Ms. Anna Crowley, perhaps I can assist you. Outside."

"You cocksucker," the Lieutenant muttered under his breath. Both cops slunk out, and Vholes followed, shutting the door softly behind him.

My knees clattering like castanets, I staggered back to the couch and sat next to Jennifer, putting my arm around her. She was trembling violently. "Oh, Jack. This is so horrible. Tell me it's just a really bad dream."

I kissed the top of her head, inhaling her natural perfume. "We'll be OK, Sweetheart. And I'm sure your mom is OK too. She's a smart lady."

I held her and we waited. After some time Vholes eased back through the door, locking it securely behind him. He pulled up a straight-backed chair and sat facing us, crossing his bony legs fastidiously and brushing back his long gray pony-tail. His face crinkled into what was probably supposed to be a comforting smile, but reminded me of the MC on 'Tales of the Crypt.' "So you must be Mr. Jack Jameson," he said. "Pleased to meet you. Give me a dollar."

"Huh? What for?" I automatically reached for my wallet. It wasn't in my hip pocket anymore.

Vholes extended his hand and dropped my wallet into my lap. "I assume this is yours? Of course it is. Lieutenant Doolan apparently dropped it in his haste to leave. Now, to make sure there are no issues about the legality of our attorney/client relationship, I need you to give me a retainer. One dollar, please. You can sign the contract tomorrow." He consulted a heavy gold watch which dangled from his wrist. "Or, rather, later today."

I peeled a dollar bill out of my wallet and handed it to him. "And I'm afraid I'll need the same from you, my dear," he said to Jennifer. "Since you have reached your majority, it would be best." I handed another dollar to Jennifer and she passed it to him. He folded the wrinkled bills and tucked them into his shirt pocket. He sighed and sat back in the chair, staring at us with piercing yellowish eyes. "Now, as I told our perhaps over-zealous police lieutenant, I have been retained by Ms. Anna Crowley to represent you two, and her,regarding any legal problems that may arise in the foreseeable future. The little incident here tonight will probably not lead to anything significant. But unless I hear from Anna before nine o'clock this morning, I'm afraid we're going to have to deal with the issue of her disappearance." He straightened the crease in his pants fussily. "I don't suppose either of you know where she is?"

I shook my head, not sure if I should tell him even if I did know anything. "She came home about five," Jennifer squeaked. "And we talked for a while. She said she had to work late tonight. And she told me that if she wasn't home when I got up I should call you. And Jack."

"Mmmm. Quite appropriate, I'm sure. You know, I doubt that there's any real problem here. Perhaps we should all have a cup of herbal tea and try to relax, shall we? Do you have any herbal tea, dear?"

"Maybe, in the kitchen. I can go look, if you want. But...the news stories? They're saying she got blown up with her boss in his limousine." She stifled a sob.

"I'm aware of that, my dear. Completely unsubstantiated. And almost certainly untrue. Now you just stay there, and I'll make the tea." He arose creakily and went to the kitchen. I heard the clatter of the tea kettle and water running in the sink.

"Do you know this guy?" I whispered to Jennifer.

She shook her head. "Never heard of him before Mom gave me his card this afternoon. She was acting really strange, like she knew something bad was coming down. But she wouldn't tell me anything."

"I don't know if we should trust this guy or not. He seems really...creepy. But a hell of a lot nicer than those cops."

"I think we have to. Mom said – "

Vholes stuck his head around the kitchen doorway. "Perhaps you could assist me for a moment, Master Jack? Here in the kitchen, please."

I gave Jennifer an uneasy look and kissed her gently. "I'll be right back," I whispered. "I just don't know...."

In the kitchen, Vholes asked me if I knew where the honey was. "Look, Mr. Vholes," I began, " I don't have the slightest idea what is going on with Mrs. C., OK? I really don't. And I'm not sure – "

He handed me a small square of cardboard. "Mrs. Crowley apprised me of your possible reluctance to cooperate, Jack. And she asked me to give you this as proof that I have her full trust in handling this matter." I turned the cardboard over in my hand. On the other side was a photograph depicting me, with a smiling Anna in my arms, about to cross the threshold of the front door at the lake house.

I gasped, feeling the blood drain from my face. "Oh God," I croaked.

"Not to worry, Jack," Vholes said. "This little offer of proof is just between the two of us. The only copy, as far as I know. But since any evidence of a meretricious relationship between yourself and Mrs. Crowley might be, ah, embarrassing, perhaps we should dispose of this token right now." He plucked the photo from my fingers and held it to the flame of the gas burner, then dropped it into the sink where it blackened and curled into ash. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Honey. Preferably organically cultivated. Is there any in stock?"

I merely shrugged, still stunned by the photograph and the searing memories it had provoked. "I don't know what to say –"

"Then say nothing, Jack. Always a viable option, and one you should keep in mind at all times. Do not say anything to anyone. I will handle all statements to the press and to the authorities." He found a sugar bowl on the counter-top and put two teaspoons of sugar in each of three mugs before filling them with tea. "I suppose this will do, considering the circumstances. Now if you will carry at least one of these?"

I took two of the cups and carried them out into the living room, handing one to Jennifer before seating myself beside her. Vholes returned to his chair and sipped contentedly. "I couldn't find any herbal tea in your kitchen, but fortunately I am in the habit of bringing a few bags with me for emergencies."

I sipped at my cup tentatively, and my sinuses where flooded with the scents of sassafras, willow root, and other more subtle, wilder herbs. It tasted exactly like the tea A-na had given me in my dream. I raised my head and stared at Vholes. "What is this stuff?"

Vholes stared back at me, his yellow eyes unblinking. "Ancient Native-American recipe, Jack. My great-grandmother passed it down to her daughter, and so on. Very soothing, isn't it?" He slurped at his cup and licked his lips. "And quite delicious, too, if I do say so myself. So drink up, children. There is little we can do tonight, but we should all try to get some rest before morning. It may well be a busy day."

We all sat in silence, drinking our tea. The flickering TV screen once again showed the scene downtown at Cherry Poppers, focusing on a blinking neon sign featuring a naked, busty girl dangling a red cherry over her open mouth. "I would suggest that the two of you ignore the news broadcasts for the moment," Vholes said. "Nothing but unabashed yellow journalism. A disgrace, actually." I reached for the remote and turned off the TV. Vholes nodded approvingly and drained his cup, setting it down on the coffee table.

He stood, shaking out the knife-edge crease in his trousers. "And now, unless you have any pertinent questions, I must be off. Many miles before I sleep, you know. But you two should be in bed. I trust you are going to stay the night here, Master Jack?"

I nodded. "I don't think Jennifer should be here alone. Until her mom gets back."

"Quite right, and her mother's expressed desire as well. And so I bid you 'adieu.' Or more accurately, 'au revoir.' Kindly lock up after I leave, and remember: do not talk to anyone. Do not answer the telephones. In fact, turn them off. If your mother should need to contact you, she will do it through me. If the police disturb you again, advise them to contact me. And do not open the door to anyone, except me or Mrs. Crowley, under any circumstances. Understood?"

jacktar48
jacktar48
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