Shadow Lane Volume 1 & 2: The Romance of Discipline, Spanking, Sex, B&D and Anal Eroticism in a Small New England Village. Eve Howard
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worried her, for she could imagine stranger things than being set up by Randy Price. Particularly after she had ceased to be of use to him.
“Just a minute, Miss Perez,” said the man, closing the distance between them in a couple of strides. With a sinking feeling she remembered him as the police detective who had visited the office a few weeks before.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“We do?”
“Yes, and you know why. Come on, we’ll go in there.” He took her arm and steered her towards Basil’s Coffee Shop. Lightening flashed and thunder rumbled as they entered. Then rain began coming down hard. He led her to a booth by the window. Damaris asked for coffee.
“You ought to eat something, you’re getting thinner every time I see you,” he commented.
Damaris excused herself to go to the bathroom. But when she reached for her purse Michael stopped her.
“Leave that,” he said firmly. Evidence had a way of disappearing in bathrooms.
“Can I just get my lipstick?”
“Sure.”
Damaris reached into the enormous handbag with an unerring hand and pulled her lipstick out, then disappeared. Clearly, the stash she had just acquired was about to be seized. She was now more depressed than before. She reached into the pocket of her well-cut suit jacket for the tiny brown glass bindle containing all her remaining cocaine. With a sigh she spilled it out on the porcelain tank top and used her little straw to snort it up in two very long lines.
While she was blotting her lipstick in the mirror, the drug hit her brain with a blast. “Maybe I can book,” she thought, suddenly wired, “Except there’s no window in here to climb out of. Do I really have to deal with this?”
She rejoined Michael, who was giving the girl an order. Coffee had been served. Damaris slid into the booth in her tight skirt and reached a cigarette out of her bag.
“How long do you think you can keep your good looks when you treat your body like a toxic waste dump?” the detective demanded.
“I should quit smoking,” she agreed.
“Not just smoking, young lady. You drive up the Cliff Road to your dealer every other day. I’ve been keeping tabs on you.”
“Oh,” Damaris said, taken aback, but unable to prevent herself from sniffing once or twice. She drank her coffee, smoked and waited for Michael to speak.
“You’ve played your little game with Randall Price for the last time tonight. I saw what went down between you just now and that’s all the proof your boss needs to nail you.”
“So he’s suspected me all along?” Damaris suddenly did not feel well. Her heart was pounding frighteningly, and not just from the drug.
“Of course. Who else?”
“When are you telling him?”
“Right away.”
“Couldn’t you wait until I get out of town?”
“Get out of town - you’ll be lucky not to get arrested tonight.”
“Arrested?”
“If William Random chooses to press charges against you I’ll have to take you in and book you. Naturally, bail could be arranged.”
“I can’t be arrested! I don’t have anyone to bail me out.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Please don’t arrest me!”
“If it were up to me, I wouldn’t arrest you. I’d spank you. Hard.”
Damaris stared at him.
“But it’s up to your boss,” Michael continued. “If it wasn’t for him I could try to forget about what I found in your purse.”
“You took it, huh?”
“What do you think?”
“Oh god - what am I going to do?”
“Stop taking drugs.”
“I don’t have much choice now. You have my drugs and I just lost my job.”
“Cheer up. I might decide to rehabilitate you personally,” he said, because she seemed so sad and sweet. And in spite of the things she had done, the girl appealed to him.
When Damaris realized she was being flirted with, her black depression lifted somewhat. This tall, good-looking cop was here to save her, to protect her from everything bad.
“You don’t want to arrest me, do you?”
“I want to reform you. I can see myself giving you the guidance that’s been missing in your life.”
Damaris confessed, “I’ve been living in a company apartment, driving a company car and spending every penny I earned. I don’t even have enough cash for a bus ticket back to New York. God - everything I had, my boss gave me. And I did this to him.”
“Bad girl.”
The waitress arrived with soups and sandwiches.
“I’m not really hungry,” said Damaris.
“Eat something anyway,” Michael advised, “Just to show me that you can be good.”
Damaris smiled her beautiful smile for the first time that night and lifted a spoonful of soup to her lips.
Michael had often wondered what it might be like to have a girl that one could scold and boss around. Jane had always been the perfect adult, self-reliant, sensible, responsible, and mature. Even Marguerite, who was far from sensible, radiated independence and power. But this little waif was different. And she aroused the nesting instinct in him as no woman had done before.
“All right,” Michael said, after watching her toy with her sandwich; “I’ll see if I can make him not press charges. I’ll go now.” He pulled out some bills for the check.
“What about me?”
“You can go home for now.”
“I can’t go back to that apartment. He won’t want me there.”
“Then you can stay at my place until I get back. All right?”
“Yes,” Damaris agreed and her anxiety began to wane.
The cold rain was still washing the streets at ten, when Damaris looked out the bay window of Michael’s second floor sitting room, chain-smoking while watching for his car. When it appeared she went to the mirror to paint her mouth dark red.
“You can relax,” Michael told her as soon as he walked in. “Random says he won’t press charges as long as you don’t get in touch with Price again.”
“That’s right, now those bids that I sold Randy are no good. But Randy doesn’t know it yet.”
“You haven’t called Price, then?”
“No. I didn’t even think of doing that.”
“Then it looks like you’re off the hook.”
“Until tomorrow when Randy gets stung at the auction and concludes that I double crossed him.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that.”
“That’s because you won’t be the one going to Emergency with two broken arms.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“He’s very powerful and I think, vindictive.”
“I’ll have a talk with him and make sure he knows I have enough evidence to implicate him in two felonies. That ought to keep him in check.”
“Did my boss say anything about me?” she hesitantly