Chapter 1

David red-shifted and accelerated into Joe’s past, connecting with his father-in-law when the man was a lad in his early teens. He was with an American Indian. They stood in a field of green grasses surrounded by cedar and pine trees among a small herd of horses. Were they wild? Mustangs? David had no way of knowing. Nora had told him that an old Ute Indian had taught her father how to talk horse. Was David witnessing a language lesson?

He blue-shifted and decelerated into the future, but not far enough to reach Joe’s present. He smiled when he saw Joe with his daughter. She was naked and sat astride his lap. With natural turns of her wrist, Nora stroked her father’s erection, and from their conversation, David realized he was witnessing the first time that they’d had sex. He calibrated the time for a return visit when he could enjoy the event at his leisure, and then blue-shifted once again, this time landing at Arabian Downs, the family’s horse farm. Joe was working Su Shafara, Nora’s Arabian mare. Nora and Carol watched from the top rail of the corral. In the background, David could see construction activity on the big house.

Before the weddings, David thought. I’m still in the past. Can I hit the wedding day?

Yes!

He was pleased because he’d selected a date in the past and moved his consciousness to observe Joe on that date, a first for him. He watched for a while, feeling nostalgic because Nora-girl had also become his wife on that day. She looked like a gossamer dream in her white wedding dress.

At least, I’m getting used to seeing myself in the past and future, he reflected. He’d also learned that his consciousness couldn’t interact with anyone in the future if he also was present in the flesh. Every time he’d tried, he returned immediately to his body in the present. He could observe himself, but could not make his consciousness known, which didn’t bother him. Seeing himself outside his present made him feel a little schizophrenic, anyway.

David shifted ahead on Joe’s timeline, moving beyond the present into the future. He groaned. Too far. It was afternoon. Could he move back to the early morning hours? He red-shifted. Bingo!

David looked over Joe’s shoulder as Joe held a Wall Street Journal in his hands. He searched for and found the date for the newspaper: three days in the future from the present.

“Good morning, Joe,” David said, which made his father-in-law jump.

“Mornin’,” Joe said. “You’d think I’d learn not to be so surprised when, out of the blue, I suddenly hear your voice, but...” He shrugged. “You did it, eh?”

“Yep, except I’m off two days. It’s Friday, not Wednesday.” Wednesday was tomorrow as related to David and Joe’s today. The trip was an experiment to determine if he could hit a specific day and time in the future. He’d failed.

Not really, he thought with a ghostly grin. I can shift back and forth until I find Joe on Wednesday morning.

“Will I remember this?” Joe asked.

“Not until it happens on Friday when it becomes a memory,” David said. “Were you actually reading the Journal?”

“I was, an article about oil prices and how the price is tied to the unrest in the Middle East, which to my mind is only part of the problem. The oil companies aren’t above gouging, either.”

David groaned silently. Nora-girl had been trying to get him involved in the War on Terror, but he’d resisted. Putting on tights with a big red _S_ on his chest gave him heartburn.

“Thanks for helping with the experiment, Joe,” David said. “I’ll shift back to Wednesday if I can. Bye.”

Split seconds later, David greeted Joe on Wednesday morning. As planned, Joe was reading Wednesday’s Wall Street Journal, and David read the parts that listed the information he’d need to make Tuesday’s investments. He chatted briefly with his father-in-law and returned to his body. After jotting down the numbers he’d committed to memory, he turned on his computer.

Should I bet the farm? he asked himself and chuckled. Why not? I can’t lose. I know the closing prices for the index and currency options I want to trade today.

He bought an assortment of options, investing $18 million, the total of Darla’s, his mother’s, and his investment capital. He also took advantage of the maximum margin allowed. His profit for the trading day would be in the neighborhood of $250,000. About an average day, he figured.

“Not bad wages for fifteen minutes,” he said out loud as he pushed his chair away from the computer and stood up.

He was drinking his first cup of coffee for the day when he realized his new business paradigm would give him more leisure time. “I need a hobby,” he said out loud just as Nora padded into the kitchen.

She was naked, which wasn’t unusual. In their home, Nora preferred nudity to being dressed. She looked mussed, not really disheveled, just not quite put-together. That would change. She’d present the perfect FBI special agent when she left the house to commute to work. David preferred the slight disarray of her early-morning look to the FBI uniform she donned. Besides, a naked Nora beat a dressed Nora hands down every time. Nora was one of those women who actually looked better nude than partially dressed.

“Talkin’ to yourself now, huh?” she said, gave him a good-morning kiss, and poured herself a cup of coffee.

David considered her question rhetorical and said nothing.

She sat at the table, blew air over the rim of her cup, and sipped some coffee. “Did the experiment work?” she said as her green eyes settled on David with the detachment of a Siamese cat.

“Yes, in an around-about way,” he described the trip.

“How much will we make today?” she asked.

He told her.

“Holy cow, David! That equates to around $60 million a year, give or take $10 million,” she said.

“If I don’t increase the amount I invest each day, yes, but by increasing the daily investment slightly as the profits roll in, I can easily take our annual income from day trading to $100 million and beyond in the first year. I won’t go beyond, though. There’s a point when my investments alone will affect the markets too much and change the closing prices. This is especially true if I go short. I’ll place excess funds in long-term securities and let them grow in a normal fashion. I was saying I’d need a hobby because the $100 million will only take about fifteen minutes of my time per trading day.”

“We don’t need that much money, David,” she said. “No one needs that much money.”

“I agree,” he said. “I think I’ll give away a large chunk of it - the hobby I was mumbling about when you joined me.”

She smiled. “David, the philanthropist, huh?”

“Mr. and Mrs. David Stanley, the philanthropists,” I said.

“Uh-uh. I’m a G-person.”

He laughed. “A person can have a day job and still be a philanthropist.”

“Humph!” she huffed. “I’m a pistol-packin’ chick from the sticks, not a highfalutin’ society queen.”

He laughed again. “And I love my pistol-packin’ chick.” He paused. “Where is it written that philanthropy is akin to high society?”

She frowned.

“My type of philanthropy will take place in the trenches, Nora-girl, not at black-tie benefits,” he added. “I’ve been careful to remain as anonymous as possible, and pushing my way into high society would defeat that purpose.” He took her hand. “Help me give our money away, sweetheart. It’ll be something we can do together and have fun while we’re doing it.”

Her green eyes danced with mischief. “I’ll help you if you help me.”

David groaned. “I don’t cope well with evil, and terrorists, to my mind, sit at the top of the evil heap.” He sighed. “All right. Point me at some suspected terrorists’ cells, and I’ll check them out, but you and other G-persons you work with must take it from there.”

“Deal,” she said. “Check with Darla. She’s at loose ends. She’ll jump at an opportunity to give our money away.”

“I’ll do that.”

She rose to her feet, poured herself another cup of coffee, and set it on the table. “I’ve got the early mornin’ hornies, and we’ve got the time. Slide your chair back a little,” she said.

David grinned and complied with her request. She sat on the table in front of him and pulled her feet up to the table. “Ready for breakfast?” she said as her knees fell open.

He laughed, pulled her feet over his shoulders, and slid the chair forward again. She moaned with pleasure when his mouth covered her vulva. “Nice,” she said. “I do love to be eaten early in the morn.” She picked up the cup of coffee and sipped. “Yeah, right there. So good.”

David reveled in her fragrances and flavors as his tongue rolled around and around her clitoris. He felt the nubbin grow larger, and through experience, knew when she could take and would want direct contact. She climaxed quickly, which didn’t surprise him. She would not have been so pushy had she not felt the need. He was surprised when she pushed him away. He thought she’d want at least two orgasms from his mouth before she’d want him to stop.

He understood when she pulled at him and said, “Fuck me now.”

When he rose to his feet, he noticed her coffee cup was empty. “Finished your coffee, huh?” he said with a chuckle. He pushed down his shorts and kicked them away. His t-shirt landed on the floor, and then he rolled the crown of his cock in her cunt to get it lubricated.

She blushed, and then laughed. “Where is it said that a gal can’t have a good cup of coffee while having a good come? Ah.” The drawn-out “Ah,” came out as he pushed his cock inside her. “I do love a good fuck after I’ve been eaten in the early morn,” she said.

“Happy to oblige,” he said. “Touch yourself if you want to come again.”

He watched her hand move to her pussy and enjoyed her fingers fondling his shaft as she gathered some natural lubricant. His thrusts lengthened and quickened, but he waited for her. Her fingers flashed over her clitoris, and she pinched and fondled her nipples. He watched a small red blotch form at the base of her neck. It grew slowly and spread across her upper chest as she moved closer to her climax.

“So good, lover,” she gushed. “So good. Yes. Yes. Ah. Yes. Oh, I’m coming. Coming. Now! Come in my now!”

They climaxed together, and he collapsed back onto the chair.

Nice way to start a day, he reflected.

---

They were sharing a shower when Nora said, “Before you talk with Darla about philanthropy in the trenches, fuck her. She needs a good fuck, too, baby.”

“I can do that,” David said.

“You’ve also been neglecting your mother.”

“Not my fault. She’s been busy,” David said. His mother had jumped in with both feet in the operation of Arabian Downs and one of their Arabian mares had just given birth to a colt.

“Go to her. She’ll make the time,” Nora said.

“I’d planned to see her today, anyway. I want her to close out our trading days. If she agrees to take on the job, she’ll need some training, not much, but a little.”

“Good. She’s helped you for years. She’d be upset, and rightly so, if your new way of doing business made her unnecessary.”

“I’m not as certain about that as you,” he said. “She’s become so involved with Joe and the ranch that she has little time for anything else. I’ve sensed some resentment lately, especially regarding the month-end reports. They’ve been a day or two late the last two months.”

“She’s also keeping the books for Arabian Downs. Maybe you should hire a bookkeeper to do the reports,” Nora said and huffed a derisive laugh. “From the sound of it, you can afford it. Regardless, don’t leave her out of the day-to-day activities of your business.”

“Getting her to tell me what she’s honestly feeling about the work will be the trick.”

“Probably,” Nora said. “I’m clean.”

“Yep. I washed the good parts more than once.”

“I noticed and appreciated your effort at cleanliness,” she said as she moved out of the shower and grabbed a towel. “Gotta hurry now. Can’t be late. Gotta make sure crime doesn’t pay.”

---

“Waddaya mean by philanthropy in the trenches, big brother,” Darla said as she cuddled next to him on her bed. David had taken his wife’s suggestion to heart, and his sister hadn’t objected to playing some sexy games, just the opposite. George had still been asleep when David stepped into her house, so she’d grinned and stripped and dragged him to her bedroom. They now basked in the afterglow of shared orgasms.

“We could write checks to charitable organizations that support good causes, and we will, but that doesn’t feel very satisfying to me. I want to examine the charitable situation in person and make sure what we do does the most good, more of a one-on-one approach, if you will. Also, throwing money at some folks could do more harm than good.”

“Give me an example,” she said.

“Let’s say we give a homeless man enough that he no longer needs to be homeless. Instead of renting an apartment, he could buy enough booze to drink himself to death, or overdose on drugs, or he could flash the money at the wrong person and get hit over the head by a mugger for the money. A homeless person has to be ready to cope with the real world before our money will help.”

“Are you saying we can’t help the homeless?” Darla said.

“Not at all. There’s an organization called CASS, which stands for Central Arizona Shelter Services. It provides not only a place for the homeless to sleep but also ancillary services that help the homeless learn how to cope with the world around them. Let’s meet with the manager of one of the shelters. Maybe we can supply apartments at no-rent or half-rent to specific individuals or families that have been through CASS’s counseling programs but still need a leg up to make it.”

“Ah, I’m starting to understand. I’d like to help battered women and children. How would we go about that?” Darla said.

“I believe there’s an organization that provides a safe haven for them, as well. We could talk with one of the shelter managers. Notice, I haven’t suggested that we talk to the men and women listed on the letterheads of the organizations: the board members, or the CEOs, those types. Going that route would take us out of the trenches.”

“Yeah, it would,” she said.

“I want to help soldiers who have been wounded. I think a visit to the VA Hospital might give us a way to approach that charity,” David said.

“Nurses are in the trenches. They know who needs help.”

“Good idea. What we need, Darla, is a cadre of ... well, for lack of a better title, charity operatives, folks who will call us when some money is needed and will be well spent.”

She chuckled. “Charity operatives. I like it, David. This sounds like fun.”

“Work should be fun,” he said. “If we approach charity from the trenches, we’ll have to work at it to give away $50 million a year.”

She gasped. “That much?”

“Darla, with my new business paradigm, that’s only half of what we’ll make over the next year.”

She giggled. “I hope you plan to lose some days. If you don’t, the SEC will be knocking at your door with handcuffs dangling from their fingers.”

“I’ve taken that into consideration. We’ll need some help from charity operatives. Mom can’t do the reports any longer. She needs accounting help, and we’ll all need help with taxes, or the government will take the $50 million we want to give away for their give-away programs. I don’t mind paying taxes, but I don’t want to pay a dime more than I’m obligated to pay under the current tax laws, and there are a lot of fucking tax laws, too many to keep track of with the time I’m willing to give the effort. What’s more, I suspect that some of our charitable contributions won’t be deductible because we’ll be giving to individuals instead of charitable organizations. This means a foundation or a non-profit corporation will probably be necessary, which I’m reluctant to set up. With the way our family operates, I’d prefer remaining as close to anonymous as possible, another reason for us to stay in the trenches instead of sitting around a conference table in boardrooms.”

“George is waking up,” Darla said.

David hadn’t heard the boy. He had a theory that said a mother’s hearing was enhanced at the birth of a child. From personal observation, his theory held water. The boy delighted his uncle with his antics. At four years old, he was all elbows and knees. He never walked. Instead, he ran everywhere he wanted to go. Darla had a difficult time keeping up with him.

“Good. Let’s eat breakfast and go out among the downtrodden and find some charity operatives today,” he said.

“All right. Will we be safe? If so, I’ll take George with us. If not ... maybe Mom will tend to him.”

“Maybe?” David said, raising his eyebrows.

“She’s ... well, she’s been busy lately, David.”

“I think we’ll be safe, but ... let’s see Mom first. Something’s going on with her that we need to know about.”

---

Carol Stanley Patterson brushed her teeth. She detested the acrid taste and sting of vomit in her mouth. After drying her face and hands, she picked up the home pregnancy tester and read the results again.

Pregnant!

Stupid! How could I be so stupid? What if David is the father? He’s as likely the father as Joe. Besides, I’m too old to have a baby. I’m a grandmother, dammit!

What will Joe say? What will he think?

Well, there’s no time like the present to find out.

She found her husband in the barn mucking out the stalls. In an effort to make the horse farm a paying proposition, he did most of the work himself. He was working too hard, too many hours. That had to change. Her pregnancy would cause a lot of changes, some of them good, some bad.

Joe hadn’t noticed her, so she watched him at work. He’d removed his shirt, and the muscles in his shoulders and back rippled as he shoveled horseshit into a wheelbarrow. Sexy galoot, she thought as desire started to take hold. She felt her love for him settle over her, but then dismay snuck in again. How would he react?

He smiled when he saw her, and she melted. Would he smile when she told him that in seven or eight months he’d be a daddy again? Him or my son, that is?

She sighed.

“Cowboy, I’m pregnant,” she said, deciding not to sneak up on the subject.

He looked like she’d just driven a railroad spike into his brain. He recovered quickly, though. He didn’t smile, but the pained expression left his rugged face.

She handed him the tester. “See, it says I’m pregnant.”

He took it from her, glanced at the device, and looked up at her. “I’ll be dipped,” he said, and then he finally flashed his boyish smile at her. “I’m going to be a daddy again.”

“You or David,” Carol said.

A row of sixteen-penny nails from a pneumatic nail gun joined the railroad spike previously buried in his skull. What she’d just said had caused her loving husband severe mental anguish. For that, she was sincerely sorry.

“My periods are erratic, have been for years, Joe. I’ve gone six months without one. I didn’t think ... that’s the problem. I didn’t think.” Tears smarted her eyes.

Then her husband did something that made her love him that much more. He took her in his arms and said, “David’s, mine, it doesn’t matter, Carol. I’m your husband. I’m the child’s father. End of discussion.”

She couldn’t contain the strong emotions that she’d been trying so desperately to control any longer and burst into tears. Tears of relief and joy, but also tears of worry and fear. Confused, she didn’t know what she felt as she clung to her husband as if he were a lifeline.

“There, there,” he said as he held her and listened to her say she was sorry over and over again. “Let it all out. It’s okay. I love you, buttercup. You gave my life new meaning. Soon you’ll give me a new child to cherish. I’ll admit, you surprised me, but ... I’m happy about this, Carol. The more I think about it, the happier I feel.”

“If David is the father, what will Nora think? Oh, I’ve made such a mess of things!” she wailed between sobs as she clung to him.

“Nora will be happy for you, too.”

“She told David to refuse Denise’s request because she wanted any child of David’s to be hers.” And unlike me, Carol thought, Nora didn’t go off the pill after the wedding as she’d planned. She’d wanted a few more years to devote to her career before taking on the role of a mother. I went off the pill well before the wedding, though. The pill was making me fat, and I didn’t think I could have another baby. Stupid!

Suddenly furious with herself again, she stopped sobbing.

Joe ignored her last proclamation of pending doom and said, “What do you want? A boy or a girl?”

“I want a healthy baby,” she said. “At my age, that could be problematic.”

“Hah! Women your age have healthy babies all the time.”

“Not if the child’s father is the mother’s son,” she said, which promptly ended that avenue of discussion.

Under control again, she wiped her eyes and cheeks with the heels of her hands. “I must look a mess,” she said. “Come inside. I’ll wash my face, and we can talk.”

“Okay. Let me finish...”

“Uh-uh, cowboy. Now. That’s one of the things I want to talk about. You’re working too hard. So am I. That’s got to change. I’m pregnant. You’ll soon be a father again. You’ll need to free up some of your time for the baby.” Maybe, she added silently.

“But...”

“Now, cowboy,” she said, took his hand, and tugged as she flashed a smile at him. “Now, please.”

He nodded.

They were walking across the yard between the barn and the big house when David drove up in the Escalade. Darla and the boy were with him, Carol noticed.

“Keep them busy, and let me tell them,” Carol said. “I need to freshen up first.” She waved at her children and hurried into the house.

---

“The colt is a beauty,” David said to his mother when he sat at the kitchen table. She’s been crying, he thought as he watched his mother put a mug of coffee in front of him, fixed just the way he liked it, no doubt.

Joe had intercepted David, Darla, and the boy, taking them to the barn to see the new colt dropped two days ago. Joe isn’t acting like himself, either, David added in his mind.

When they were all seated around the table, David said, “Okay, what’s going on?”

Instead of answering David’s question, Carol handed her daughter a plastic stick-like object. Darla glanced at it and squealed happily, “You’re pregnant?”

“Yes,” Carol said.

She should be overjoyed, David thought after the initial shock of the announcement subsided. She’s not. Why? Had Joe given her a bad time about becoming a father at his age? Is that why...? “Oh, shit!” he breathed.

Carol chuckled. Her son had just figured out the problem. “Yes, David, the child could be yours.”

“To hell with that,” Joe said. “That’s my baby you’re carrying, buttercup. End of discussion.”

Carol patted her husband’s hand. “Sorry, cowboy, that isn’t the end of the discussion. Tests must be made. If my son is the father, I’ll have an abortion.”

Joe glared at her, pushed back his chair, and rose to his feet. “Not on my watch, you won’t,” he said, his rugged face creased with fury. He turned and walked away.

Chapter 2

David watched as his mother hurried after her husband. ‘Nora needs to know about this,’ he thought.

George fussed and tried to run away. Darla grabbed him and plopped him on her lap, telling him to sit.

“What a mess,” David muttered.

“You’re feeling guilty again, aren’t you?” Darla said, frowning at him. “Every time there’s a glitch in our family, you blame yourself; you say if you weren’t the way you are, we’d be normal. Well, I tried normal, and normal isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, buster, so back off, or I’ll give you a piece of my mind.”

“Wrong. I was thinking about taking a quick trip to let Nora know what’s happening,” David said.

George squirmed out of his mother’s lap. She let him go.

“You’ll do no such thing!” Darla exclaimed. “Joe and Mom will inform Nora at a time of their choosing, just like they informed us.” She chuckled. “At least we now know why Mom hasn’t been herself lately. She told me when she was pregnant with you that she had morning sickness so bad that it lasted into the afternoon everyday.” Looking around for her son, she spied him in the pantry. “Get out of there, George.”

The boy obeyed, mostly because he’d found what he wanted - a bag of Goldfish crackers. He sat on the floor and started to stuff his face with the crackers.

David nodded his head toward the door his mother and father-in-law had exited moments before. “What will they decide? They’re at an impasse.”

“Whatever they decide is their choice to make, David,” Darla said.

David frowned at her. “Not if the baby’s mine,” he said.

Darla sighed, letting all the air out of her lungs with a whoosh. “Big brother, as smart as you are, sometimes you can be a first-class numbskull. You heard Joe. That’s his baby Mom is carrying. End of discussion. Keep your nose out of this. It’s between Joe and Mom.”

Not if the baby’s mine, David said again, but silently.

---

“I don’t care what the law says, Carol,” Joe said. “I don’t care if you believe that it’s the woman’s sole decision to abort or not abort. I won’t be a party to murdering a little baby.”

“It’s a fetus, Joe, not a baby. If my son is the father, the child could be born horribly deformed or mentally deficient or both.”

“Which could happen if the baby’s mine, as well. At your age, the incidence of Down syndrome goes way up, for example. Whatever happens, we’ll handle the outcome, Carol.” He sighed. “To start with, that baby is mine - period. I don’t want you to test its paternity because the results of the tests would be irrelevant. I’m the father.” He glared at her. “Got it?”

Carol didn’t respond. Instead, she said, “What else?”

He looked confused.

“You said, ‘to start with, ‘“ Carol said.

“Oh, that.” He huffed a short laugh. “I love you. You’re my wife, and we’re going to have a baby, which couldn’t please me more. Just the thought of holding a newborn of mine in my arms again gives me goose bumps. So, lighten up. Be happy with me.”

Carol shook her head in wonder. Yep, she’d picked the right man to grow old with. “All right,” she said. But I will order the tests, she added silently.

“No abortion?” he said.

“Not unless the pregnancy is life-threatening for me,” she said - her out in case she had to abort. The right doctor would go along with the subterfuge.

He frowned but nodded. “That goes without saying. About Nora, we’ll tell her about the upcoming happy event, but we won’t tell her that the identity of the child’s father is in question.”

“David will tell her.”

“Probably, no, make that likely. Doesn’t matter. The child is mine - period. We’ll stonewall her and everyone else.” He grinned. “I’m going to be a daddy again.”

He’s in denial, she thought. No good can come from his approach to this problem. Hiding from a dire crisis with your head in the sand doesn’t make the crisis go away. It lets the crisis bite you on the ass while you’re bent over.

---

David was wise enough not to debate the decision with Joe and his mother, but he was adamant about discussing it privately with his mother later.

With the traumatic incident momentarily tamped down, Carol said, “You dropped by, David. Why?”

“Oh, to ask you to tend George,” he said.

“Which you’re not up to,” Darla said. “You’re still feeling queasy, aren’t you?”

“Are you sick, buttercup?” Joe asked.

“Morning sickness, Dad,” Darla said.

“Oh,” he said.

“I’m fine now,” Carol said. “I’ll tend him, but before you leave, we need to talk about another subject. Joe’s working too hard.”

“So are you, Mom,” David said. “Which is silly. With my new way of doing business, we’ll have so much money that I’m going to give half of it away as a hobby.”

“Huh?” Joe said.

“The experiment worked, Joe. I connected with you in the future - twice, first on Friday morning, and a second time tomorrow morning. I looked over your shoulder and read tomorrow’s Wall Street Journal. When I invested this morning, I bet the farm, so to speak. Knowing what will happen in the markets today made the investments a sure thing. Mom, I bet your money and Darla’s, as well. We’ll make in the neighborhood of $250,000 today, which will be an average day for us.” He went on to explain day trading, index and currency options, and the increased margin available with the new approach to his business. “I should make about $100 million over the next twelve months. So, Joe, working your damned fool head off to show a profit with the ranch isn’t necessary, and Mom, you’ll need some accounting help, and we’ll all need some tax help. I would like you to close out the trades each day, Mom, but that shouldn’t take you more than fifteen minutes. Before Darla and I leave, I’ll sit at the computer with you and show you how. Don’t worry. It’s easy. And, Joe, you’ll need to be up early each day with the Wall Street Journal close at hand, but you’re up early anyway. That’s why I selected you to help me with that end of the business.”

Joe and his mother sat stunned.

“Jesus,” Joe finally breathed.

“I spoke with Darla this morning about charity in the trenches. Here’s what I mean by that.” He described his philanthropic intentions. “Thinking about how the government wastes the taxes we pay, I decided to be proactive and eliminate as many taxes as I could and do some good with the money my way.”

“Charity in the trenches could be dangerous, son,” Carol said.

“Then I’ll hire a driver, an ex-soldier, to protect us when we go out among the great unwashed. Whatever. Joe, I want you to hire enough help and train them so you can walk away from this place for weeks at a stretch. Mom, you need a housekeeper, maybe a cook. I plan to hire both for the compound.”

Carol looked stricken. “What about ... what about the way we are?”

David laughed. “With the way I am, I think I’m capable of hiring the right people for the job, people who can not only keep their mouths shut but also won’t condemn us for the way we are. In fact, I think we should hire our help out of shelters, shelters for the homeless or for battered women. I’ll recruit bodyguards from the VA Hospital, ex-Special Forces NCOs, maybe. Nora said she’d help with my new hobby.” He snorted. “Of course, as a trade-off, I had to promise to put on tights and a cape.”

Carol laughed. “I figured she’d con you into donning your super cape again.”

“Yeah, she likes the attaboys she gets when I help,” David quipped. “Well, waddaya say? Are you with me or against me?”

Carol looked at Joe.

“You are working too hard, Carol,” Joe said.

“Hah! You’re the one working from can’t-see to can’t-see. I’ll go along with this if you will.”

He gave her a hard look, and then nodded. “All right, to a point,” he said. “But I will not become a gentleman rancher. I will run this ranch.”

“Fine by me,” Carol said. “Run it, but promise me you won’t do the work.”

He shook his head. “I’ll work the horses.”

“Fine, but mucking out the stalls, mowing the fields, bucking hay bales, and other hard labor has got to stop. Promise me, cowboy.”

He nodded, and then grinned. “I can live with that.”

---

Each of them rolled a large shopping cart down the aisles at ToysRUs. David selected toys for boys, Darla for girls, and ignoring gender, Carol tossed whatever caught her attention into her cart. When David had outlined what he wanted to do that day, Carol said she’d join them. George was riding in Carol’s cart, helping her with selections by pointing and saying, “That one there, Grandma.”

Filling six carts with toys was fun. They stuffed the escalade to the brim except for where they sat, and David drove them to the CASS emergency family shelter on the west side of town.

The manager, Darrell Pointer, was delighted with the donation and happily gave them a tax-deduction receipt for the amount on the receipt from ToysRUs (less the cost of the toys George would keep).

“I noticed on your website that families are only allowed to stay at your shelter for ninety days,” David said to the manager. “What happens when the time runs out?”

“Some find permanent housing,” he said.

“And some don’t,” David said.

He shrugged. “Some families, for various reasons, can’t cope with what it takes to end their homelessness, Mr. Stanley.”

“Call me David, please. Do you have families that are close to coping but not quite there when the ninety days are up?”

“We do, I’m sorry to say, but I’m required to enforce the ninety-day rule.”

“Would it help if someone supplied some furnished apartments at, say, half-rent for six months?” David asked.

He frowned. “Even at half-rent, the deposits and utilities could present insurmountable barriers, David.”

David nodded. “Let’s assume there’d be no deposits and the half-rent included utilities. Could you save some families that you wouldn’t otherwise save?”

“We’d need to continue our other services to make sure they understand what they must do to cope with the world around them, but the simple answer to your question is yes,” Darrel said.

“How many families almost ready but not quite capable of ending their homelessness do you turn away each month?” Carol asked.

“Varies,” Darrell said. “One to five.”

“How many children in each family?” Darla asked.

“That varies, too.” He chuckled. “One to five.”

“So,” David said, “if we supplied you thirty furnished apartments at half-rent or less without deposits and utilities included for six months, you could save sixty families a year that you wouldn’t otherwise save.”

“I wish,” Darrel said. “Even then we’ll lose some of them, up to half.”

“But the effort would be worth while, right?” David said.

“Oh my, yes!”

---

At the next stop, they met Nancy Grayson, a nurse at the VA Hospital. She was black and brusque, but she sincerely cared about the soldiers in her ward. She got to know them, not just as patients but also as human beings. She knew what they worried about, what gave them joy, and learned about their families and loved ones.

“How would you like to be one of our charity operatives?” David said after he felt comfortable that she’d do a good job for them.

“Huh?” Nurse Grayson said.

“That’s a title David made up this morning,” Darla said. “We want to give but we want the money to go to good people and for good causes.”

“And we’ll be giving anonymously,” Carol said.

“We figured nurses like you would make good operatives. You could point us at individuals and situations where our money would do some good,” Darla said.

“How much money are you talking about?” Nancy Grayson said.

“Whatever would fix the problem without causing harm,” David said.

“All right,” the nurse said with a defiant glint in her eyes. “Let’s talk about Grant Wilcox. He lost both legs. His mother will be his caregiver, but she needs an operation - hip replacement. He can cover half the expenses but not the other half, and his mother doesn’t have insurance.”

“How much?” Carol said.

“$20,000.”

“No problem,” David said. “We’d like to pay the full cost of the operation, though.”

“$20,000 would do it,” Nancy said with a grin.

“May we meet him?” Carol said.

“Sure. Follow me.”

We trooped after her into a two-bed hospital room. A young man was sitting up in bed reading a book. David assumed he was Grant Wilcox because from the shape of the bed sheets it was obvious that he had no legs.

“No introductions, Nancy,” David said. “Grant, I understand your mother needs an operation.”

The man frowned. “Yes, who are you?”

“I’m David. This is my sister, Darla, and my mother, Carol. The boy in the carriage is Darla’s son, George. Other than first names, we prefer anonymity. Look, we appreciate what you did for us, the sacrifice you made so we could remain free and whole.” He gave the man an envelope. “That’s $25,000. Use the money for your mother’s operation and for whatever else you need when you’re released from the hospital.”

They’d stopped at a bank on the way to the CASS shelter, and David had withdrawn $50,000 in cash, which had given the teller and bank manager apoplexy. He’d also been forced to sign some forms. “They’re required by the government,” the teller said. What the government did with the forms, David had no idea. They’d elected to give cash that day to maintain their anonymity, but the exercise had compelled him to admit that he’d have to set up a non-profit corporation.

The legless man looked stunned. Darla bent and kissed one cheek while Carol kissed the other. “Thank you,” they parroted.

The three of them turned and left the room, with Darla pushing the carriage. In the corridor out of Grant’s earshot, David said, “Damn! That felt good!”

“It sure did,” Carol said.

“I like your new hobby, David. I think I’ll make it a hobby of mine, too,” Darla said.

“Ditto that,” Carol said.

Nancy Grayson shook her head in wonder. “You guys are something else again. What you just did ... well, it was a good thing; that’s what it was.”

“Will you be a charity operative for us?” David said.

“You bet.” Her large white teeth flashed when she smiled.

David told her about the driver/bodyguard he wanted to hire. “A Special Forces NCO who was wounded but can still do the job would be ideal,” he said.

“What’s the pay?” Nancy asked.

David shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t know what the going rate is for that kind of work. Whatever the scale, we’ll pay him at the top end.”

The nurse nodded. “I think I know just the man. He finished up his physical therapy in the hospital a month ago. He was looking for work, though, and might have a job already.”

David gave her a card. “If he’s still looking for a job, have him call me. If he’s not interested, keep looking for me, please.”

“And call us whenever you see a situation similar to Grant’s where our money will do some good,” Darla said.

---

Carol had to call a hotline to obtain the address where David pulled the Escalade to a stop at the curb. It looked like an immense old home that needed some TLC. In fact, it was a shelter operated by the Johnson Center for Domestic Violence. When battered women and children had no other place to go for a safe haven, they could go to one of Johnson’s shelters. They operated three shelters scattered across the metro area.

The three of them walked to the front door and rang the bell. A tall middle-aged woman answered the door. She didn’t look happy when she noticed David. He stepped forward and stuck out his hand. “I’m David,” he said. He then introduced his sister and mother, using their first names only. “The little guy is George,” David added as he shook the woman’s hand.

She said her name was Mrs. Vera Whitten, the shelter manager, and guided them to a small room containing threadbare furniture. She didn’t offer them a drink.

“We’re here to help, if we can find a way,” Darla said.

“You can donate to the organization through the website or send a check through the mail,” Mrs. Whitten said.

“We prefer a one-on-one approach, Mrs. Whitten,” David said. “How many women and children are you housing right now?”

“We’re at capacity,” she said. “Actually, a little over capacity.”

“Which is...?” Carol said.

“Thirty, but ... look, I don’t know you folks. I’m sure you’re okay, but...”

David handed her an envelope. “That’s $15,000 cash, Mrs. Whitten, or $500 for each mother and child in residence. If you have more, I’d like to give them $500 each, as well.”

“Oh my! Ah, Mr ... ah, David, I don’t believe giving this way will be tax-deductible.”

David opened another envelope. “How many more?” he pressed.

“Three,” she said.

He counted out another $1,500 and gave her the cash. “There. About this money, it’s for fun, not necessities.”

Her expression changed from stunned to confused.

“We want the mothers to spend the money on themselves and the children for extras,” Carol said. “You know, a trip to the beauty parlor, new clothes, movies, toys for the children, piano lessons, whatever.”

“And please tell the mothers to spend their children’s money on their children,” Darla said. “As David said, it’s fun money. We talked about this. We figure the women and children in your shelter deserve some fun in their lives.”

“Will you do this for us, Mrs. Whitten?” David said.

She pursed her lips and nodded.

“Promise?” David said.

“I promise,” Mrs. Whitten said, and from the determined expression on her face, David believed her.

“Good,” Darla said. “Now, what’s your biggest problem, Mrs. Whitten?”

“Huh?”

“The biggest problem you cope with every day,” Darla clarified.

“Oh, that’s got to be boredom,” she said.

Surprised, David said, “Please explain.”

“With nothing to do and feeling sorry for themselves, the women start to wrangle, and the children are worse. The children ... well, some of them have learned about violence from their violent fathers. They frequently get into terrible fights.”

“Amazing,” Carol said. “I would’ve never guessed. It’s logical, though, now that I think about it.”

“Do you have help, Mrs. Whitten, you know, people who work for you?” David said.

“Yes, a cook and a housekeeper.”

David frowned. Having a housekeeper seemed counterproductive to her largest problem. Putting the battered women to work would reduce some of the boredom. “What’s your next biggest problem?” he asked.

“Medical help,” Mrs. Whitten said. “Some of the women and children arrive here in pretty bad shape, but they refuse to go to the hospital. The last thing they need is to be grilled by the police, which is exactly what would happen if they went to an emergency room.”

David nodded. “I noticed the building needs some maintenance and repairs.”

Mrs. Whitten nodded and, looking sad, said, “Not enough money. There’s never enough money.”

David handed her the envelope from which he’d removed $1,500 for the extra residents. “That’s $3,500. I want you to use it for parties, one a week until you’ve spent the $3,500. Pizza parties, birthday parties, whatever kind of party you want to throw. Buy some DVDs for the kids, for the mothers, too, and...”

“We don’t have a DVD player,” Mrs. Whitten said, interrupting him.

“Well, hell, buy one. They don’t cost much. Do you have a library?”

“No.”

“David, I’ll take care of the DVD player, the movies, and the books,” Darla said. She turned to Mrs. Whitten. “What shape is your television in?”

“It works, and we buy basic cable,” Mrs. Whitten said. She sighed. “The kids fight over the channel changer.”

“What about school for the kids?” Carol asked.

“We discourage occupancy beyond two weeks,” Mrs. Whitten said. “That’s so the kids don’t miss too much school. If they went to their regular school, their violent fathers would find them.” She sighed. “Truth be told, most of the women return to their husbands within a week. They don’t have the wherewithal or gumption to do otherwise.”

“Are they given any counseling?” Carol asked.

“Not much. A couple of psychologists volunteer their time for a few hours every week. Mr. David, we’re mostly a way station, a safe place to stay for a short time until the women decide what to do.”

“Do you have any playground equipment?”

“No. The lawyers say the liability is too great.”

David gave her his last envelope. “That’s $5,000. Do not give the money to the organization. Use it to brighten up your shelter.”

“Oh, my! Oh, thank you!”

After being asked, Mrs. Whitten took them on a quick tour. She thanked them again, and they left.

Back in the Escalade, David said, “That place isn’t run properly.”

“That’s for sure, and it’s not just money,” Carol said.

“Would it be worthwhile to visit the home office?” David asked.

“Maybe,” Darla said.

“No,” Carol said at the same time.

“CASS has their act together,” Darla said. “Johnson doesn’t.”

“We did some good there, though,” Carol said.

“If Mrs. Whitten follows our instructions,” David said, “I’ll check on her. If she doesn’t, we won’t go back. I’ll also check out some of her residents. We might be able to hire one or two of them.”

They drove in silence for a few minutes. “Maybe we should start our own center for domestic violence,” David said. “With a few million dollars, we could offer a service to those beleaguered women and children that would be more than a way station.”

“Now, that’s a good idea, son,” Carol said.

“Johnson can be fixed for less,” Darla said.

“True, but it’s a bureaucracy. It might take less time to start fresh than fight the bureaucracy running the organization now.”

They talked about what they’d learned that day. Carol volunteered to do a search for an apartment project they could buy for the CASS homeless families. Darla offered to recruit more charity operatives in other hospitals around the metro area, and David said he’d meet with attorneys to set up the non-profit corporations they’d need, as well as retain some tax help.

“To make sure we’re not missing a bet with Johnson,” Darla said, “meet with the organization’s CEO.”

“I will,” David said.

“Call Dad,” Darla said to her mother. “Have him join us at the compound tonight. It’s been a while. I feel like an intimate party in our communal room.”

Carol chuckled. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

“A good plan,” David said. “When we get to the compound, I’ll take on my ghost persona and encourage Nora to join us.”

“Let me talk with her before you do that,” Carol said.

She wants to discuss her pregnancy with my wife, David thought and nodded his agreement with his mother’s request.

Chapter 3

David stood next to the glass wall in the great room of his home that gave him a view of the mountain next to the compound. He nursed a cocktail while he watched the falling sun alter the hues and shadows on the mountain’s craggy surfaces. Deep in thought, he wondered how his wife reacted when his mother told her that she was pregnant. A part of him dreaded the possibility of some hurt feelings, and another part of him believed his wife could handle anything. He’d learned to admire the well-concealed compassion behind Nora’s outward and real show of strength and determination. Before a hurried phone call, his mother had asked him not to phase out and visit Nora at her work, so he hadn’t discussed the issue with his wife.

He turned to the sounds and saw Nora set her purse on the console table in the entry. He was reminded of the stroll of a cougar as she moved toward him, exhibiting the fluid grace of the feral cat. She didn’t look around. She fixed her sultry green eyes on his, moved next to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his. It wasn’t a passionate kiss. It was slow and warm and soft - a comfortable embrace.

When it ended, she leaned back and said, “It’s okay if the child is yours, David.” She smiled. “I’d be surprised if it wasn’t. That said, let’s go with Pops’ approach. It’s his baby - period. End of discussion.”

He smiled. “Why?”

She kissed him again, this time with more passion, and then said, “Because that’s what my father wants. His wife is pregnant. He will be the baby’s father.”

“All right. I’ll leave it at that,” he said.

“With the way we are, the baby will have three mothers and two fathers anyway,” she said. “What are you drinking?”

“Scotch on ice.”

“Fix me the same while I shuck my clothes and freshen up. When I get back, you can tell me about your charitable good deeds.”

“We’re having dinner at Mom’s house and then spend some time in the communal room. Dress is formal.”

When Darla designed and built her home on the acre in the compound that David had reserved for her, she had included a large room that provided sensuous comfort for up to six lovers or pairs or other combinations at the same time. They called it their communal room, and it had been a stunning success.

“I know. Carol told me,” Nora said and smiled enigmatically. “It should be an interesting evening.”

---

David wore a regular black tux, but Joe was decked out in Western formal wear: a highland frock coat over a red “Twin Cities” vest. The ladies were resplendent in slinky formal gowns. Little George wore a dark suit and a red silk tie, which he hated. He’d pulled it loose, and then discovered he could twirl it like a propeller.

They dined in candlelight, and the catered meal was as sensuous to the palate as the setting in which it was served. The wines were superior vintages (Carol drank sparkling water), and the desserts were sinful. The dinner conversation revolved around charity in the trenches and what each wanted from the new help they planned to hire.

“I’ve met most of the women at the Johnson shelter,” David said. “While on my flight tonight, I’ll look for candidates for the cook and housekeeper jobs. I’ll also connect with Darrell at the homeless shelter and move around in his past for a day or two, so I can connect with some of the homeless folks in the CASS shelters.”

“Most of the battered women have children, David,” Darla said. “Housing them could be a problem.”

David’s shoulders slumped. “Dammit, you’re right, Darla.”

“The bunkhouse and cottage at the ranch are vacant,” Carol said. “The cottage can house a combination cook/housekeeper and one or two children, but if we do that, the ranch foreman will have to stay in the bunkhouse. If the foreman is married, he should occupy the cottage.”

“We have three guest suites and a half-dozen vacant bedrooms at the compound,” Darla said.

“That’d work temporarily,” Nora said. “But what we really need are two-bedroom suites like in hotels: a bedroom for the mother, another for the children, a private bath, and a living room, in other words, a home, not just a room.”

“What about a kitchen?” David asked.

“Not at the ranch,” Carol said. “There’s a kitchen and large dining room next to the bunkhouse.”

“Sounds like you’re going to need two cooks for the ranch,” David said to his mother. “One for the big house and one for the bunkhouse.”

“I don’t think so,” Carol said. She took Joe’s hand in hers. “I can do the cooking for Joe and me. Nora, Darla, how will you handle the cook for the compound? She’ll have to cook for the help and two houses, three, if you count mine.”

Nora groaned. “The more we talk about this, the more complicated this becomes. Mom, with a baby on the way, you’ll need a cook as much as Darla and I. It seems to me that our lifestyle dictated how the compound was designed, and servants weren’t considered, especially servants with children. The ranch was designed as a working ranch, and it can house its cook and ranch hands, if they’re all single males. But, Carol, you were right. The cottage should be reserved for the ranch foreman. The cook and a housekeeper, if they’re female, will need to be housed in the big house, which doesn’t work if they have children. I say again, the women and children need homes, not rooms.”

“My first interview will be for a driver/bodyguard,” David said. “Don’t leave security personnel out of the mix.”

“And if children of varying ages become members of our households, we’ll need to alter our lifestyle. Nudity is fine, but fucking whenever or wherever the urge strikes us will have to stop,” Darla said.

“Shucks,” David said with a grin. Then with a sigh, he said, “Are the problems too cumbersome? Should we go traditional and hire help through employment agencies and preclude children from the mix?”

“No,” the three women said simultaneously.

David looked at Joe. He shrugged and said, “We need the help, and I like the idea of giving folks down on their luck a leg up in life. And children underfoot don’t upset me, just the opposite. Nora’s idea about a home, not a room, makes sense, though. There’s enough land at the ranch and the compound to build housing for the help. Unfortunately, design and construction will take four or five months, so the problem is a matter of timing. With some stable hands, I can run the ranch until the two-bedroom suites are built, so Carol and I can house the cook and housekeeper in the cottage. I’ll hire the foreman later, or promote someone from the stable hands I’ll hire.”

“The bunkhouse needs some work,” Carol said.

Joe laughed and said, “Don’t make it too fancy, buttercup, or the stable hands won’t feel comfortable.”

“I’m talking paint, mostly,” Carol said. “Maybe new floor covering. Something impervious to dirt that’s easily cleaned, and the bathroom will need new fixtures. A large armoire with drawers for each hand. Indian rugs on the floor. Western décor.”

Joe laughed again. “What? No frilly curtains?”

She laughed with him. “If you want frilly curtains, cowboy, you’ll get frilly curtains, but frilly won’t match the Western décor I have in mind.”

“Okay,” David said, “that solves the help at the ranch. How should we handle housing at the compound?”

“Use the guest suites for the mothers with adjacent rooms for the kids until the new units are built,” Nora said.

“Uh-uh,” Carol said. “Use my house for the help at the compound. It’ll be temporary, so I won’t mind.”

“We’ll do both,” Darla said. “And when we design the new units, we’ll fix the communal kitchen and eating area problems at the same time.”

“Speaking of a communal room, let’s take this discussion to ours,” Nora said.

“Go ahead,” Carol said. “I’ll send the caterers on their way and join you in a few minutes.”

“And I’ll put George down for the night,” Darla said.

---

Temporarily sated, David found himself cuddled with his mother on large pillows in a private corner of the communal room.

“Is the child mine?” he asked quietly.

“Don’t know,” Carol said.

“Will you do the tests?” he said.

“Yes. That’s between you and me, son.”

“What will you do if I’m the father?”

“Abort.”

“An abortion could cause irreparable harm between you and your husband,” David said.

She said nothing.

“Mom, we have millions. If the child is mine, hire the best and find out if the child is defective before you abort,” he said.

She sighed. “All right.”

They cuddled in silence for a while. Carol broke the silence. “Remember what I told you when Denise wanted your baby?”

He thought about her question, put it in context, and said, “That because of my paranormal gifts, any woman, including you, would want my child.”

“Yes. I’ll do as you ask for that reason, son. Just the thought of having another child with your abilities thrills me, but if the baby is defective, I will abort. Joe and I are too old to take care of a deformed or mentally deficient child.”

“What about Joe and his attitude regarding abortions?” David said.

She kissed him. “You worry too much.” Her dainty hand found his flaccid penis. “During dinner, I was thinking back and couldn’t remember the last time I went down on you.” She nibbled on his neck as her hand stroked him. “I want to suck you off until you come in my mouth.”

David felt his cock lengthen in her hand.

“I see the idea holds merit for you, too,” Carol said with a chuckle as she slid down on the pillows. “Lean back and enjoy,” she said just before her mouth surrounded his growing erection.

As his mother’s tongue twirled around the bulbous crown of his cock, David glanced toward the group on the big bed. Joe was fucking Nora doggy style while Nora was eating Darla. His love for everyone in the room washed over him as he groaned with pleasure.

“I love you, Mom,” he said. “I love you as a lover and as a mother.”

Then he quit thinking and went with the sensations provoked by her talented mouth.

---

David answered the intercom call from the gates to the compound. The candidate for driver/bodyguard had arrived. “Drive through the gates to the circular driveway for the second house on your right,” David said. “My sister and I will meet you there.”

While his consciousness had wandered space and time the previous night, David connected with Nurse Grayson and moved around in her past until he met Staff Sergeant Michael Flint, Ret., the candidate the nurse had selected for the driver/bodyguard job. David then spent some time in Flint’s past. The Special Forces NCO had been wounded during a covert mission in the Middle East. The pieces of shrapnel that had chewed his left leg to pieces had left him with a limp. The doctors had saved his leg, but he was no longer fit for active duty.

Although unable to function as a soldier, Sergeant Flint was still a warrior at heart and detested his current job. He was selling used cars for his brother-in-law and was also living with his sister and her family. Some remarks between the siblings led David to investigate Flint’s teen years. His sister, a year older than Flint, had seduced him when he was fifteen years old. The siblings had been on-again, off-again lovers until his sister married a year after graduating from high school. Flint had joined the military shortly after her wedding.

The soldier still loved his sister, but she had put on weight and let herself go. Flint wasn’t attracted to her any longer, which was yet another predicament for him, because his sister was certainly attracted to him.

Flint had been overjoyed at Nurse Grayson’s call.

When the tall man stepped from his vehicle, Darla emitted a short gasp. “Sexy,” she whispered to her brother.

David chuckled, stepped forward, and introduced himself and his sister. Flint’s handshake was strong but not overpowering. He looked a little older than his thirty years. He displayed a chiseled, square jaw, and brooding, dark eyes dominated his expression. He was obviously very fit with wide shoulders, a deep chest, and narrow hips. When they moved inside the house, his limp was barely noticeable. David suspected that it would become more pronounced as the man tired. Flint wanted coffee, black, which Darla served, and the three of them settled in a seating area in the great room.

“What did Nurse Grayson tell you about us and the job, Mr. Flint?” David asked.

“Not much, just that you were looking for a driver/bodyguard and would pay top dollar for the work. I go by Flint, by the way. I’d appreciate it if you’d drop the mister.”

“No problem,” David said. “I’m David, not Dave or Mr. Stanley.”

“And I’m Darla, not Mrs. Stanley,” she said and crossed her legs. Good, she thought. He likes what he sees. “I live with my son, George, in the house directly across from this one. He’s down for his nap right now - I hope. I’ll need to check on him in a minute. David and his wife, Nora, own this house, and our mother owns the house you passed on your right as you drove to David’s house. Our mother is married to David’s wife’s father. They live at Arabian Downs, a small horse ranch in Scottsdale, but Mother also spends time in her house in the compound, as well.” She grinned. “I’m divorced.”

“My wife works for the FBI. She’s a special agent, currently acting as liaison with Homeland Security,” David said.

“Why do you feel a need for protection?” Flint asked.

David explained their new avocation and added, “We occasionally carry large amounts of cash to give away, and from time to time, we’ll venture into some rough parts of the city. Although I could probably take care of myself in minor skirmishes, Darla and my mother couldn’t. Nora...” David paused and laughed. “Nora refers to herself as a pistol-packing chick from the sticks.”

Flint smiled and nodded.

Darla patted her brother’s hand and said, “David is a lover, not a fighter.”

“Did you have a security clearance while in the service?” David asked.

“Yes. Top secret,” Flint said.

“Good. We will demand your confidentiality, Flint. What goes on here remains here. Got it?”

“Depends,” Flint said.

“Explain, please,” Darla said.

“If you’re drug dealers, I’ll not only break confidentiality, I’ll also turn you over to the cops. I won’t be a party to anything illegal.”

“What about victimless crimes?” David said.

“Huh?” Flint said.

“Darla and I are lovers,” David said.

Flint’s jaw dropped.

“The only illegal act we commit is incest,” Darla said. “David, our mother, and I have been lovers since David and I were teenagers. David’s wife, Nora, and her father, Joe, are also lovers. We all love each other.”

“Well, not quite,” David said. “I love Joe, but we’re not homosexual.”

“On the other hand, Nora, my mother, and I are bisexual,” Darla said.

“Jesus,” Flint breathed.

“If this is a problem for you, we’ll end the interview right now,” David said.

The three sat in silence for a few seconds. Finally, Flint said, “No problem.”

“Why?” David said, deciding to press him.

“No problem. Let’s leave it at that,” Flint said.

David shook his head. “No, we need further assurances. Why isn’t our lifestyle a problem for you, Flint?”

Flint looked him in the eye and said, “Because, like you, I had an incestuous relationship in my teens.”

David nodded.

“What about nudity?” Darla said. “We aren’t body-shy while inside the compound walls. Would that bother you?”

“Yes,” he said. “Seeing you nekkid, Darla, would bother the hell out of me.”

Darla laughed gaily. “Then seeing Nora nekkid would really bother you.”

“Hey, flirt on your own time, you two,” David said with a grin. “Tell us about you, Flint. What makes you qualified for the job?”

“I have a slight limp, and running for an extended period would be problematic, but I can still shoot a handgun or rifle and hold my own with the best shooters around. I’m an expert in hand-to-hand combat and a black belt in the martial arts. I’m also an expert defensive driver.”

“What about security systems?” David asked.

“I know enough to circumvent most of them, and I can pick most locks. If you’re referring to security systems for your compound, I know some experts that could do a better job than me installing video and infrared cameras and intrusion alarms.”

“Can you fly an airplane?”

“I’m a licensed pilot, both fixed-wing and helicopter.”

After they talked about money and housing, David gave his sister a quizzical look. She nodded, and David said, “Do you want the job?”

“Yes,” Flint said.

“When can you start?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Good, you’re hired. Darla will show you the room you can use until we build the new housing units for staff.”

Chapter 4

Flint drove away from the Stanley compound, wondering what he’d gotten himself into. If it includes Darla Stanley, I don’t care, he reflected.

Incest! She fucks her brother, her mother, her mother’s husband, and her brother’s wife. He grinned. And from all indications, she isn’t completely opposed to fucking me. That, or she’s a tease.

He didn’t believe she was a tease. Time would tell. She was his employer. She’d have to seduce him, not the other way around.

Like my sister when we were teenagers, he thought.

He drove to his brother-in-law’s used car lot and quit his job, which didn’t upset his brother-in-law, just the opposite. Flint knew he wasn’t a very good salesman. His brother-in-law had merely accommodated his wife’s request to give her brother a job. Then he drove to his sister’s house and packed his things, which didn’t take long. From his years in the military, Flint had learned to travel light.

His sister was conflicted. She was happy for him but sad to see him go.

He had just put his things away in Darla’s guest suite when she stopped by his rooms. She was holding her son’s hand. Flint guessed the boy’s age at four. A good-looking lad, he thought.

“Wanna see the rest of the compound?” she said.

“Sure.”

“Say hi to Mr. Flint, George,” she said to her son, who promptly hid his face in her skirt.

“Hi, George,” Flint said as he tickled the little boy’s chin with his fingers, which produced a smile. “How old are you?”

“He’s four,” Darla said. “And shy around strangers.”

Darla walked him through Carol Stanley’s house first. “You’re welcome to use Mom’s hot tub,” she said, “or the pool behind David’s house. And David has a gym he uses on inclement days. Otherwise, he swims and runs for exercise. He built what he calls a makeshift running track that meanders around the grounds just inside the walls. When I built my house, I added a communal dining room and another room the five of us use for sexy fun and games. I also added an entertainment room with a large-screen plasma TV with surround sound.”

“What do you do to stay in shape?” Flint said.

“I ride Thee Brigand, my Arabian stallion, swim, and work out in the gym. Mom and I share a personal trainer. Thee Brigand was supposed to be David’s, but the stallion prefers me to David, so he gave him to me. Actually, a family corporation owns all the horses.”

“You folks obviously have money,” Flint said. “Tell me if it’s none of my business, but how did you come by your money?”

“David. He invested his college fund in the stock market when he was a teenager. Then he invested my college fund for me, and when Mom sold her manufacturers rep business, he invested her money. We’re all multi-millionaires now. New rich, Flint, not old money, so we’re not stuffy about our money.”

When they entered David Stanley’s house, Flint met Nora. She was wearing shorts and a cutoff t-shirt. He later discovered that anticipating she’d meet him, she’d put on some clothes. Otherwise, she would have been naked. Christ! he thought. I’m working for the two best-looking women in Phoenix, Arizona.

“I’m giving Flint the nickel tour, Nora,” Darla said after introducing her to the bodyguard. “Where’s David?”

“He’s phased out,” Nora said.

“That reminds me. Flint, you need to know something else about David,” Darla said. “He sleeps in deep delta, which means he goes into a coma. You can’t wake him, but he’s fine, so if you run across him while he’s asleep, don’t call an ambulance.”

“Give me George,” Nora said. “I’ll play with him until you and Flint finish the tour. David promised to burn some steaks on the outdoor grill. I’ll make the salad and steam some vegetables, so plan on dinner in an hour. Of course, you’re invited, Flint.”

The boy happily went to Nora, Flint noticed. After Darla showed Flint the bathhouse, pool, and the gym, she pressed her finger to a lock, and a door opened. “This is the security room. David will have to explain this room to you. All I know about this equipment is that when all the security systems are engaged, no one can enter the compound without us knowing it. David told me that he wants you to do a security audit, whatever that is.”

“I’ll get with him on the audit tomorrow,” Flint said.

“The garages are next. I’ll show you some of David’s big-boy toys.” She opened a door, and they stepped inside. “The Rolls-Royce Cornice, the ‘67 Chevy Corvette Roadster, and the Escalade are David’s. He keeps a Jeep Grand Cherokee in Sedona, where he has a summer home, and garages a Ford Expedition Eddie Bauer at Wahweap Marina, where he berths his Searay Sports Cruiser. When we visit Sedona or Lake Powell, he flies his Cessna Turbo Stationair. The Jaguar sedan is Nora’s. The Mercedes sedan and Hummer are mine. Joe drives a four-door pickup truck, and my mother also has a Mercedes sedan. I imagine you’ll be driving all of them at one time or another, including the airplane and boat.”

Back in Darla’s home, she showed him the communal dining room, the entertainment room, and the tour ended in the fun-and-games room. “This room is restricted for the family’s use, Flint,” she giggled winningly. “For our bacchanalia.”

Flint shook his head in wonder. The sexy images dancing in his mind transported blood from his big head to his little head. He bit the inside of his lip to gain control.

“I’ll leave you now,” Darla said. “You’ll want to freshen up for dinner. Dress is casual tonight. Last night, we had a formal dinner. Do you own a tux?”

“No,” he grinned. “I have a dress uniform.”

“Ooh, that’d work.”

Her “Ooh” sent chills up and down his spine. “Not really,” he said. “I’m medically retired from the service. I’ll buy a tux.”

“That’s up to you. Your limp is hardly noticeable,” she said. “Are you still in physical therapy?”

“No, except for therapy I’m doing on my own.”

“Will the facilities here work for you?”

He laughed. “Yes, and then some.”

“Do you ride?”

“Huh?”

“Horses?”

“Oh, no. Never been on a horse.”

“It’s great exercise. Wanna learn?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll ask Joe to teach you. He’s a horse whisperer, talks horse, he claims. I believe him. After you watch him with our horses, you’ll believe him, too. I’ll take you to Arabian Downs tomorrow, so you can meet Joe and my mother. You’ll need to do a security audit for the ranch, as well.”

The sexiest woman alive, a stock-market genius, an FBI agent, a horse whisperer, and probably the sexiest mother alive, all involved in an incestuous relationship. I think I’m going to like working here, he thought. Beats the hell out of selling used cars; that’s for sure.

---

Dinner was an eye-opener for Flint. He listened while his three employers talked about charity in the trenches. David had briefly outlined some of their plans, but the scope of what they wanted to accomplish was mind-boggling.

“I retained some legal beagles to set up a foundation and two non-profit organizations today,” David said. “We’ll fund each with a million dollars. I also met with the tax department of the law firm. They’ll work with the corporate lawyers to make sure Uncle Sam won’t get his nose out of shape with the taxes we won’t have to pay.”

“I spoke with Mom, David,” Darla said. “She found a forty-unit apartment project for sale close to CASS’s family emergency shelter. It needs some work, she says, but...”

David laughed and said, “Mom, the eternal re-designer.”

Nora laughed with him. “That’s for sure. When she gets through with the apartments, they’ll be the finest in the area.”

“Nora, she wants you to help her furnish them,” Darla said.

Nora grinned. “I can do that.”

When Nora had turned David’s bachelor pad into a home, she’d discovered that she had an exceptional talent as an interior decorator.

After Flint asked, Darla explained their planned use for the apartments.

“Did Mom make an offer on the apartments?” David asked his sister.

“No,” Darla said. “She says there’s one other project she wants to look into first. Besides, she mentioned that you might want to make the offer in the name of one of your non-profits, although at the time, she didn’t know you were setting up two of them. Why two, by the way?”

“One for the homeless and one for battered women and children,” David said.

“Did you meet with Johnson’s CEO?” Nora asked her husband.

“No, tomorrow. I ran out of time today. I still believe starting fresh with shelters for battered women and children will work best. As I said, one of the non-profits is designed for that purpose. If we decide to overhaul Johnson instead, we can merge that non-profit with Johnson and survive the merger to gain control.” He snorted a derisive sound. “Lawyers are a sneaky bunch.”

“I recruited another charity operative this afternoon,” Darla said. “A nurse named Greta Simms. She works at Mayo Clinic Hospital in Scottsdale. The children’s ward. Greta introduced me to a little boy, age eleven, who had a concussion and some broken bones. An automobile accident. Both of his parents were killed in the accident, David. He’s an orphan now. They were about to ship him to a charity hospital, so I agreed to pay his hospital expenses.”

“Good,” David said. “What happens to him when he’s released from the hospital?”

“He’ll go into the foster care system,” Darla said. She pursed her lips. “I’m thinking about becoming a foster parent and making my home a foster home.”

“When I told the lawyers that I planned to hire cooks, housekeepers, and others out of shelters, they advised me to make the compound a shelter not only for the homeless but also for battered women and children,” David said. “I gave them the green light to start the paperwork. It’ll take a month or two to make that happen, though. I’ll add making the compound a foster home, as well.” He chuckled. “We’ll drive the bureaucrats up the wall when we refuse any compensation for anyone we take in.”

“Why not accept the compensation?” Flint asked.

“If we did, we’d soon feel their bureaucratic boots on the backs of our necks when they tried to grind our faces into the dirt,” David said. “We’ll follow their rules, but because we’ll refuse their money, we won’t let them tell us what we can or can’t do beyond conforming to their rules.”

Flint nodded. “Makes sense,” he said.

Darla giggled. “George is finished eating.”

Flint laughed. “I’d say so.” The boy had climbed out of the highchair by himself, hanging by his hands to drop to the floor.

Darla grabbed him, wiped his face with a napkin. “Go play,” she said. “If you’re a good boy, you can watch a Disney movie later.”

“Yea!” he said, turned and ran from the room.

David said, “Got a housekeeper candidate isolated, a woman named Janice Wren. She’s at a CASS shelter. I spoke with Darrell about her. He thinks she’s ready to end her homelessness. He says that as long as she stays on her meds, she’ll be fine.”

“Has she been through all of their programs?” Darla asked.

“Yes. She’s drug and alcohol free. CASS tests them before trying to place them in a job. Darrell said when she wandered into the shelter about two months ago, she was a mess. She’d been raped and beaten, and at first, he’d believed she was mentally deficient and possibly schizophrenic. All that changed when a doctor put her on some medication that eliminated her anxiety attacks. Darrell has been unsuccessfully trying to place her in a job for about a week.”

“Have you vetted her for our situation?” Nora asked.

David frowned and glanced at Flint. “Yes,” he said.

“Sorry,” Nora said, realizing that she’d made a mistake. David had told her that Flint wasn’t aware of his paranormal abilities, but she’d forgotten.

‘What was that about?’ Flint asked himself.

“You’re not on the clock yet, Flint, but would you drive me to the shelter?” David said. “I’ll interview Ms. Wren, and if I like her, we’ll drive her back here so Nora and Darla can speak with her.”

“No problem,” Flint said.

---

While helping Nora clean up the dinner mess, Darla said, “What did you think of Flint?”

Nora chuckled and said, “I’ll tell you after an hour or two at a shooting range with him.” Nora cocked one eyebrow at Darla. “I don’t have to ask you what you think of him, do I?”

Darla laughed nervously. “Was I that obvious?”

“Yep. He is a sexy galoot,” Nora said as she waved her hand in front of her face to cool the heat on her face.

“I could go swimming in his brooding, dark eyes,” Darla said.

“Are you going to jump his bones?” Nora asked.

“Not anytime soon, if ever,” Darla said as she stacked plates in the dishwasher. “Fortunately, I have the luxury of being satisfied almost 100% of the time.”

“Almost?” Nora said with a teasing smile.

“Make that all the time. Still, I can’t deny that I’m attracted to him.”

“I find him intensely masculine. His strong jaw. His chiseled look,” Nora said.

“Dangerous,” Darla said and shivered slightly.

“That, too.”

They worked in silence for a while.

“We’ll see,” Darla said.

“It’ll be up to you,” Nora said. “He won’t make the first move.”

“You think?”

“That’s the way I see it.”

A minute later, Darla said, “We’ll see.”

“Has he been married?” Nora asked.

“Yes. Divorced. No children. David said his wife cheated on him.”

“Is he an advocate of monogamy?”

“Don’t know. If he is, I’ll pass.”

“There’s pure monogamy and there’s monogamy to the group, Darla.”

“I know. If he’s a purist, I won’t make the first move.”

“Wise,” Nora said.

“Even then, the rest of you have a say in the matter,” Darla said.

“Yes, we do.”

“Thumbs up or thumbs down, so far?” Darla said.

“Up, so far. Way up,” Nora said.

Darla grinned. “Good.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Time to put George down for the night. May I sleep with you and David tonight?”

“I’d like that,” Nora said. “Put George in the guestroom next to our bedroom here.”

“We think alike,” Darla said.

“Yes, we do,” Nora said.

---

Except for being squeaky clean, Janice Wren still looked like the bag lady she’d been for two years. Her face and hands were tanned dark, and she displayed wrinkles on top of wrinkles. She’d brushed her blonde hair, but it still looked shaggy. Her threadbare clothes, although clean, were as wrinkled as her face and hands. David guessed her age at forty-five. He later found out she was forty. He figured that life on the streets had aged her beyond her years.

“Darrell told me that you were ready to end your homelessness,” David said to her.

“I am,” she said, her voice cracking. She was very nervous.

“We need a housekeeper,” he said.

“I know how to keep a clean house,” she said.

“Do you know how to drive a car?”

“Yes, but I don’t have a current driver’s license.” She looked crestfallen.

“No problem. We’ll arrange for you to get a license.”

Although she needed dental work, her sudden smile lit up the room. Her bad teeth reminded David that he hadn’t spoken with Flint about employee benefits.

“You’ll answer to the cook we plan to hire. Until then, Darla, my sister, will be your boss. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, sir.”

“Call me David, not sir. Okay?”

“Okay ... ah, David.”

“Until we hire the cook, will you help out in the kitchen?”

“Yes ... Mister ... ah, David.”

David told her about the compound and that she’d be cleaning three houses, not one. She didn’t have a problem with that, either. David suspected that she wouldn’t have a problem with anything he’d ask her to do. He told her what he’d pay her, which produced another dazzling smile.

“Besides your salary, you’ll be given room and board and a full benefit package including health and dental insurance from the get-go; vacation and sick leave will start to accrue after ninety days, and you can contribute to a 401K plan. I’ll match your contribution 100%.”

“I know I need to get my teeth fixed,” Janice said, hiding her mouth with her hand. “What’s a 401K plan?”

David gave her a rough outline of the retirement strategy, which she seemed to understand. He decided she was smarter than her appearance had originally led him to believe. Perhaps a trip deeper into her past was warranted.

“Do you want the job?” he asked.

“Oh my, yes!” she exclaimed.

“Get your things. I’ll drive you to the compound. My wife and sister will interview you. If they say yes, you can start tomorrow.”

She looked frightened. “What happens if they say no?”

“Then my driver will bring you back to the shelter.”

She nodded. “I’ll get my things.”

She returned in less than three minutes carrying a black, plastic trash bag. Blushing, she said, “Fancy luggage, huh?”

David laughed. “Janice, I think you’ll fit in just fine.”

“I sure hope so, sir ... ah, I mean, David.”

During the trip back to the compound, David filled Flint in on the benefits he’d receive along with his salary and board and room.

“You’ll match my contribution to the 401K 100%?” Flint said.

“Yes.”

“Do you select the investment securities in the plan?” Flint asked.

“Yes. I’m currently trading in index and currency options. In and out every trading day. Because the return on investment is substantial, a financial advisor would tell you what I do is risky. It isn’t. In fact, I instructed the lawyer who set up the plan to insert a clause that guarantees a minimum ten percent annual return.” David grinned. “I’ve averaged much more than ten percent over the years.” He’d set up the 401K plan when the family hired Joe to run the ranch.

“I heard,” Flint said. “Will you make me a millionaire?”

“Maybe. Depends on how long you work for us.”

“Janice,” Flint said, “contribute the maximum allowed to the 401K plan, and you won’t have to worry about money in your old age.”

“I hear you, Flint. I hear you loud and clear,” Janice said.

An hour later, after Janice fervently promised absolute confidentiality and accepted the family’s unusual sexual shenanigans without apparent qualms, Nora and Darla raised their thumbs, and Janice Wren became the family’s second employee.

“Take Janice shopping tomorrow, Darla,” David said. “Buy her a new wardrobe from the skin out and for all occasions.”

“Sounds fun. I need a few things myself,” Darla said.

“Oh my,” Janice said. “I can’t...”

“Hush,” Nora said and patted Janice’s hand. “Call the new wardrobe a hiring bonus.” She turned to Darla. “May I also suggest a visit to a beauty parlor?”

“You may, and that’s a great idea,” Darla said.

They put Janice in an extra bedroom in David and Nora’s home.

Chapter 5

David watched as his sister nuzzled her face between his wife’s shapely thighs. No matter how many times he witnessed the beauty of the event, it never failed to excite him. He fisted his very hard erection.

“Fuck her,” Nora said to David. “Fuck your sister. Poke her cunt with your long one.”

David rubbed his hand between Darla’s legs. She was wet. Ready. But he wanted a taste of her nectar before poking her. She squealed happily as his tongue rasped up through her slit, lapping up her juices as he twirled his tongue in her hole.

When satisfied tasting, he leaned back, lined up his cock, and poked her. One thrust buried his length in her wet heat.

“That is so sexy,” Nora said as she softly cradled Darla’s head in her hands. Her hips waved, but only slightly.

David felt his sister’s fingers rubbing her own cunt. When he pulled away, her hand wrapped the base of his cock, and when he thrust slowly forward, she released him. Her fingers flashed over her clitoris.

“Suck on it. Suck my clit now, Darla,” Nora said. “Yes! Perfect!”

David reached around his sister and fondled his wife’s breast, pinched the nipple slightly, and then pulled it out away from her chest. He quickened his thrusts and moved his hand back to Darla’s hip. He ran his hands up and down the outside of her thighs as he moved over her. Her flesh felt warm and silky smooth to his touch.

Darla’s imagination had taken flight. David wasn’t fucking her. Flint was pounding her cunt. Her conjured mental image of Flint’s tool made it three times larger than average, like a cock in a Japanese pillow book.

When David’s wet finger pressed her pucker, Darla pushed back until it popped inside her. Yeah, she thought, Flint in my cunt with his monster, David in my ass, and Joe in my mouth. Her fingers flashed faster, and she applied heavier pressure directly to her hard clit.

Fuck me, Flint! she screamed silently. Fuck me!

Nora’s fantasy was different. Flint was licking her cunt, sucking on her clit. After she came, she’d fuck him. Roll him to his back and mount him. Ride him until she climaxed again.

“Suck it, suck it, suck it,” she hissed out loud.

Darla didn’t just suck it, though. She also lashed it with her tongue. Nora felt her orgasm start to gather, and her waving hips became more pronounced.

Come in me, Flint! Come in me now! Darla urged silently.

David recognized the signs of his sister’s pending climax. The membranes inside her cunt became more active, throbbed, and grabbed at his swiftly thrusting shaft. His wife, too, was nearing her orgasm. The red splotch on her upper chest was spreading, and her eyes had taken on a glazed look. He wondered what she was thinking. He knew she usually fantasized while fucking. They’d shared fantasies from time to time in the past.

“Yes!” Darla screamed into Nora’s cunt as Darla’s body went rigid with her orgasm, which set off Nora’s climax.

Darla’s pulsing, orgasmic cunt took David to a peak, and he roared with pleasure as he grabbed his sister’s hips and jammed his cock deeply inside her. Semen spewed from his cock into Darla’s depths. He reared back and slammed his ejaculating cock inside her again, and then again, and again.

The three of them collapsed in a heap on the king-sized bed. David rolled to Nora’s right, Darla to her left. David took his wife into his arms and kissed her. It was a romantic kiss, which she returned fervently. Then he watched as Darla kissed Nora. Their embrace was not romantic. It was passionate.

“I love you, Nora,” Darla breathed, and Nora pulled her in for another passionate kiss.

“I love you, too,” Nora said.

Then they attacked David. He didn’t mind. Loving attacks were always welcome.

A little later, Nora said, “David, can you meet me for about an hour tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“It’s time to put on your super cape.”

He groaned with dismay.

“You promised.” When he said nothing, she added, “We’ve isolated a terrorist cell in the city - maybe. I’ll put you next to one of the members of the cell so you can connect with him and, through him, his associates.”

“I can do that,” David said, but reluctantly.

---

. Janice woke up, showered, and dressed in the only other outfit she owned. It was clean but wrinkled. Maybe Darla or Nora would let her borrow an iron. It was still dark outside when she walked toward the kitchen. Don’t shuffle, she told herself. Walk straight and tall. You’re not a bag lady anymore.

She’d gotten up early because she wanted to talk with her new employers about her duties some more. She was terrified that she’d make a mistake, do something that would get her fired. As early as it was, she was surprised to find Flint and David having a cup of coffee. Flint frightened her a little. Admit it, Janice told herself, just about everyone and everything frightens you.

“Good morning, Janice,” they parroted.

“Good morning. My goodness, you folks are early risers,” Janice said.

David jumped up and said, “Coffee?”

“Please,” Janice said, “but don’t wait on me. I can fix my own coffee.”

“I’ll wait on you this morning, Janice,” David said. “You can fend for yourself tomorrow and every day after. Today, this is my way of saying, ‘Welcome.’ How do you like your coffee?”

“Black,” she said, but immediately shook her head. “No, years ago I used to drink it with cream and sugar.”

“Let me fix it for you the way I like it,” David said and a few seconds later set a cup of coffee in front of the new housekeeper.

Janice sipped and her eyes lit up. “Oh, this is good!” She sipped again. “I feel like I’m dreaming, and I’ll wake up and find myself in a cardboard crate again. Instead, I woke up on a soft bed with clean sheets in that wonderful room you’re letting me use. I feel spoiled. I didn’t even have to wait in line to take a shower! You can’t imagine how that makes me feel.” She drank some more coffee. “Oh, this is good. Is Darla or Nora up? I want to borrow an iron. I hung these clothes up last night before I went to bed, but after being carried around in a plastic bag, they’re still awfully wrinkled.” Janice snorted a self-effacing laugh. “They match my face.”

“Darla and Nora are still asleep,” David said. “Enjoy your coffee, and then I’ll show you where we keep the iron. Remember, you’re going shopping today.”

“About shopping. I can’t let you do that, Mr. David.” She was wringing her hands in her lap. Tears stung her eyes. Don’t cry; don’t make a fool of yourself. Crap! Crap! Crap!

Suddenly she felt her chair turn, and David took her hands in his.

“Look at me, Janice,” he said, his voice calm but insistent, his expression concerned.

“If I make a mistake and you fire me, I won’t be able to pay you back,” Janice said, squeezing his hands as tears streaked her wrinkled cheeks.

“What kind of mistake?” he asked.

“I could ruin some clothes doing the laundry, or break something while vacuuming, or...”

“If you were in charge of housekeeping, would you fire someone for those kinds of mistakes?” he asked.

“No, unless...”

“Darla won’t either,” he said. “In the total scheme of things, some ruined clothes don’t mean diddly-squat. Mistakes happen, Janice. You’re a part of this household now. What counts in this household is effort and how we treat each other. Silly mistakes don’t count. Got it?”

Janice squeezed his hands with hers, and her happy smile belied the unhappy tears that had streaked her cheeks. “Got it, Mr. David.”

David Stanley is a good man, Flint thought and sipped his coffee.

Nora padded into the room. She was scrubbed clean, smelled fresh, and completely naked. Flint watched as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She drank it black, he noticed. He also noticed that he was uncomfortable, not because his employer was naked, but because he had a massive hard-on.

Nora didn’t help matters when she glanced at the bulge in his pants as she sat down. She said nothing, just gave him an enigmatic smile.

“Janice needs to borrow an iron,” David said.

“I’ll show her where one is after my coffee,” Nora said. “Good morning, Flint, Janice. I don’t dress until just before I leave for work. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Fine by me,” Flint croaked. He couldn’t take his eyes off her tits. They were magnificent! Everything about her was magnificent. “Please excuse me for staring,” he said. “I can’t help it. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Nora.”

She grinned. “Thank you, Flint, but I disagree. Darla has more curves, is womanlier, much more beautiful than I. I’m ... well, I’m a chick from the sticks. Too thin. Wiry. How about meeting me at the Ben Avery Shooting Facility about five o’clock this afternoon? I want to see how good you are with a pistol.”

Flint looked at David. He nodded.

“I’ll be there,” Flint said.

“A shooting match?” David said to his wife.

She sipped her coffee and nodded.

“I’ll be there, too,” David said. “This I’ve got to see.”

Darla waked barefoot into the room. She wasn’t naked. She wore shorts and a blouse. Taking in Nora’s nudity, Darla said, “Show off.”

Nora laughed. “Not at all. I’m just being me.”

Darla grinned and said, “True. I take back my biting comment.” When she sat at the kitchen table, she looked at her brother and said, “Are you finished with work for the day?”

“Yes, unless Mom can’t cover our short trades just before the markets close. The markets are trending down, so I went short.”

Janice frowned. “How long have you been up, Mr. David?”

He laughed. “Janice, my work day only lasts about fifteen minutes, a half-hour if I have to close the day.”

Her frown deepened.

“Will we have a profitable day?” Nora asked.

“A very profitable day, about double the average,” David said.

“I don’t understand,” Janice said. “How can you be rich and only work fifteen minutes a day?”

“I’m a day trader, Janice,” David said. “I buy when the markets open and sell just before they close.”

Janice smiled and said, “Good job.”

Nora laughed. “A very good job, and speaking of jobs, I’d better get ready for mine.” She rose from the table and padded away.

Darla watched Flint watch Nora until she left the room.

“Nice, huh?” Darla said to Flint.

“Magnificent.” He glanced at David, but his boss didn’t appear offended. Flint wondered if he could be so accepting of another man gaping at his naked wife.

“I never looked that good on my best day,” Janice said.

---

“Where to, boss?” Flint said as David hopped into the passenger seat of the Rolls-Royce Cornice. Flint had driven the luxury vehicle around to the front of the house, marveling that he was behind the wheel of a Rolls. Who’d have thunk it? he thought.

David gave him an address. “That’s the home office for the Johnson Center for Domestic Violence. I’m meeting with the CEO.”

“Is that the organization that you might take over that helps battered women and children?” Flint asked as he pulled the car through the compound’s gates.

“Yeah. The CEO is okay, but the Chairman of the Board is an asshole. Although I didn’t ask to meet the chairman, I suspect he’ll be at the meeting.”

The previous night while others slept, he’d moved around in Vera Whitten’s past until she met with Grace Black, Vera’s boss. He’d connected with Paul Fisher, the board chairman, through Grace Black.

A few blocks down the street, David said, “My wife is very good with a pistol. Don’t be surprised if she out shoots you.”

“I don’t think so,” Flint said.

David shrugged. “She’ll goad you into making a bet. Don’t.”

“I won’t. I don’t gamble. I did once. I’m a compulsive gambler, boss. Gambling is a disease, like alcohol. No cure. The only way to control the disease is refusing to make or accept a bet.”

David was pleased that Flint told him about the only negative character trait that David had uncovered about the man during David’s flights of consciousness, speaking of which he needed to phase out and do his safety checks. He told Flint about what to expect. “If I’m still asleep when we arrive at the address I gave you, just park the car and wait until I wake up.”

“All right,” Flint said, thinking that his employer was the strangest man he’d ever met. Regardless, Flint admired and respected him.

---

When David hovered over his mother, she was hovering over the toilet bowl. She’d be mortified if she knew her son was watching her being sick, so David switched his connection to Joe. He was lugging a bale of hay across the loft in the barn.

Yep, David thought, he’s working too hard.

“Let me give you a hand with that,” David said and grabbed the wires around the bale.

Joe almost dropped the load, and then laughed.

David helped him position hay at each stall in the barn.

“I think I’ve found a stable hand for you. A female, though,” David said. “She’s very good with horses, but I don’t know if she could do the heavy work.”

“A gal, huh?” Joe said. “Hmm, she could muck out the stalls, ride the tractor. If a man worked with her on the heavy jobs, a gal would work, David. One of the best cowhands I ever knew was a woman.”

“I’ll check on her some more tonight. She’s homeless, dove into a bottle, hit bottom, and is determined to climb out of the hole she dug herself. What I don’t know yet is if she’ll accept our lifestyle.”

“Lemme know. Thanks for the help, David.”

“You’re welcome. Gotta go.”