The Tabard Chronicles

[Maid of Marvels]

The Tabard Inn sits off the beaten track, a small building on the edge of town. The interior is rustic, the bar in the common room had seen the ghost of better days and the pool table, its baize covering, a faded gray-green, stood waiting reproachfully for someone to take up a cue and play a game.

The occasional biker haunt on the Angels' trail as they drift past in summer; unless you are a local -- or lost -- you are likely not to find it. But when you do...

Join us for a series of vignettes (five posts each), the nature of which will soon become apparent as you read along. As always, comments, ideas and critiques are welcome by PM.

Enjoy the read. We'll keep the lights on.

~Maid and Chris

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Rebecca Sheldrake stood behind the bar, the last of the glasses washed, dried and put away. It was Classics Night on the local NPR station, and the sweet strains of Borodin's Nocturne Number 2 for strings in D Major played faintly in the background.

She smiled at her husband as he knelt in front of the huge stone fireplace; the crisp autumn night and the folks gathered tonight at the Tabard begging for the warmth of a crackling fire. And a story. There was always a story to be told.

"Whose turn is it?" she called out. "And whatcha drinkin'?"

 

[chris2c4u]

Sam turned from his stool at the end of the bar.

"I'll take another Manhatten. And tell you my story."

_____

The smokey air turned doubly blue with the language of the argument in Cambell's Bar. Pete smiled into his glass of Glenmorangie single malt as he looked up at the pictures of prohibition raids in Chicago and listened in.

"It was the fuckin A's, for fuck's sake."

"Crap, you...The Card's had Pepper wothisname, he saw them through. Look, a dollar on it right?"

"Right." Spitting on their hands the protagonists shook. Then silence.

"OK, OK, right, listen up you fookas," announced one of them to the bar. The noise dipped sinuously as heads turned. Pete smiled and sipped his Scotch.

"Who the fuck won the 1931 World Series?"

A few laughs; noise began to grow, the pool table balls smacked against each other again.

Pete looked over at the two Stevadors. "Cards, 4-2. Pepper ended .500 batting average.

"You're sure?" The broken nosed Philly Athletics supporter said.

Pete nodded. "Spitball Grimes put Cards 2 1 up Pepper won em the 5th, Pepper helped em win the last."

Impressed by erudition, the bet between the Pacific vets was settled and Campbell refilled Pete Stone's glass for free. Grinding out his cigarette he smiled at the broad back of the former minor league pitcher come bar owner. Swallowing the malt, the private eye slid off his bar stool and headed out into the street, headed for his office across the street.

Shaking his head as he walked he thought, she hadn't had to throw him out. He stuck his hands in his trenchcoat pockets as he tried to dismiss her vision in the nylons and negligee set he's bought her with the profits from the Wallace case floating against the diner's silver wall. He'd just flirted with her best friend at the party. Exchanged numbers. It was hardly a kiss. So it was the roll away bed; luckily he hadn't been able to pay his last secretary, so she wouldn't be in and discover him there, on the floor. He turned the key in the outer door of the office block, entering to the smell of stale urine. Great advert for Stone: Investigation Agency.

He dragged his feet up the three flights of creaking stairs. The streetlights were diffused by the glass of the various down at heel offices. Patterson's Exterminators. He walked on. Lafayette and Co, yeah, should say ambulance chasers. Reaching into his pants pocket he fished out the keys to Stones. Opening the door, there was the fragrance of perfume. Expensive perfume...

 

[Maid of Marvels]

Her battered body sprawled on the kitchen floor, she took comfort in the cool indifference of the Italian tile as she listened for the sound of his car driving away.

Frank's handiwork, she called it. He never marked her face, or anywhere else that would be visible to people that mattered, even teaching her to use the veins between her toes and inner thighs to disguise the habit he'd introduced her to five years ago. Oh, yes, she was a society dame and he was the pillar; but she'd see him topple and fall. Better yet, she'd see him crash.

Satisfied that he was finally gone, Kate rose to her feet, wincing as she gingerly made her way to the phone. There was someone who would help. Only one. Dialing the number that she knew by heart, she waited for that someone to pick up.

One week later...

She sat in the darkened office waiting, a hill of cigarette butts in the ashtray testimony to the amount of time she'd been there. Even now, as she heard the key turn in the lock, there was a yet another burning in the hand-carved ivory cigarette holder poised between her meticulously manicured fingers.

Waiting for him to turn on the light, Kate Sheldrake swivelled around to face the man she'd been waiting for. "How... predictable," she said, pushing a key across the desk toward him. "It's good to see you again, Peter."

To his credit, Stone didn't miss a beat. "Mind if I sit?"

"No. Please. Be my guest." Kate leaned back in the detective's chair and crossed her legs. "Do you still keep a bottle around here? I'm parched."

"Bottom right."

"It's locked."

Peter walked around the desk and opened the drawer, taking out a bottle of Scotch and two glasses. Wiping the lipstick off the rim of one with a handkerchief he pulled from a pocket, he poured out two fingers and retreated to the opposite side of the desk with his own glass and the bottle, too. Spinning a straight-backed chair around, he straddled it and grinned at the woman who sat lounging across from him.

"Slumming?"

"So it seems," she replied, sipping at the amber liquid in her glass. "However, I have a need."

Peter remembered her needs well, though he barely raised an eyebrow at her comment. "It's been a while. Refresh my memory."

Kate stood and walked the few steps it took to reach him, perching on the edge of his desk. There was nothing wrong with Peter's memory -- never had been. It was one of the things she'd always liked about him. His mind. Well, and a few other things. But times had changed and they'd moved on.

"I got married." Kate spoke the words as if they would explain everything, or at least hoped he knew enough that she wouldn't have to go further.

"And you didn't invite me," he retorted as if it would have even been a consideration. "Trouble in paradise, Kate? I don't tail philandering husbands. I still haven't stooped that low."

Kate nodded, unfastening the frogs that held her jacket closed and slipping it off. He refilled his glass and gestured with the bottle toward hers. "Not yet," she replied, knowing that what she had planned was a long shot, but she'd always been lucky when it came to Peter Stone and was hoping that it would still hold.

"There's something you need to see," she said softly, slowly unbuttoning her blouse.

"I remember the girls, Kate. Spare me the reintroduction."

Ignoring him, well, outwardly at least, Kate continued to undress.

"I said... " he repeated, though his eyes were devouring every curve and the memories they evoked.

Kate didn't speak, instead turning her back to him as she let her blouse billow heedlessly to the floor. It was covered with weals -- some oozing, some just red and angry.

He whistled lowly and she heard the sound of the chair scrape across the floor as he stood, flinching away when his fingertip touched one of the welts gingerly. "He did this? Your husband?"

Not turning to face him, Kate nodded. "Frank. Sporocco is my married name. We live out on the Island. He... " Tears flowed down her cheeks as she spun around. "He's... respectable."

Kate laughed, the irony in her voice not lost on Stone as she continued. "He's in... the import export business. Six figures. High ones. Some of it's even legit. The rest is a cover for what he really does. It gets packed in with the merchandise, see?"

"I'm listening."

"You've got to help me, Pete. If I can prove what he's really doing, I can get away. Please? For old times sake?"

The scent of her perfume and the proximity of her body wasn't helping, or maybe it was the Scotch; suddenly she was in his arms. Her mouth on his, the parting of her lips an open invitation to...

 

[chris2c4u]

...invade her mouth with his tongue, to hold her, trying to be gentle with her back. They stood and kissed hungrily, hardly pausing until they looked at each other, lust in their eyes.

"Not here," she breathed.

"The Bluebell," he said, "down the street."

Pete knew the night porter, he had a tattoo on his neck, he'd been in prison, they showed him some respect. The big man grinned and handed over a key to an empty room. "On the house guys," he winked.

Pete's hand squeezed Kate's bottom through her tight skirt and she leaned close and pushed her tongue in his ear as he fumbled with the lock of their door. Taking her around the waist he pulled her inside. The bulb was dim, the furniture basic and scuffed. He just knew the bed was going to squeak. Kate took his face in her hands and kissed him again her tongue running around his lips, around his own tongue and he pulled her blouse from her skirt his fingers feeling her skin, her curves. He let his hands ride up inside the fabric to feel the firmness of her breasts the taut nipples surmounting them.

Her hands slid the jacket from his shoulders, her fingers trembling a little as she pulled at his shirt buttons. Her blouse now hung open and in the flashing red neon light from outside the window advertising the bar next door he got glimpses of her as they eagerly stripped one another.

Standing naked together he held her hips, moved his face close to hers and kissed her jaw, her neck. Slowly he moved down as she stood before him, kissing between her breasts and then wetly licking each nipple before moving down. He probed her navel, nipping around it. Her hands went to his shoulders and she parted her legs, knowing where he was going, urging him with little moans as his mouth passed through her silky hairs.

He turned his head, sliding his tongue along her slit, probing her wetness with his mouth, feeling her push towards him with her hips, her sex. His hands held her buttocks firmly as he opened his mouth which in turn opened her nether lips and he could lap deep in the heat of her body, could take in her fragrance, her juices. He ran the tip of his tongue firmly around her clit as it grew peeping out from its hood letting him suckle it, lap, faster, faster on it.

She rocked against him, groaning that she wanted him inside her. With a last long suckle to her pussy, her clit, he stood, keeping his hands on her firm ass. They kissed so she could taste herself on his mouth and she pressed close, hips insistently, rhythmically pushing, catching his hard shaft between their bodies.

"Mustn't hurt your back," he said with a smile which she caught in the flickering neon glow. She gave a low laugh and got on the bed on all fours and waggled her backside at him. He returned the sexy laugh and knelt behind her, sliding on his condom. One hand slid under, through her pubic hair down to her pussy, wet with his saliva and her moistness. One slid up to caress her breasts, tease her hard nipples. He parted her lips with his hand under her and ran his hard cock just between them. She eagerly pushed back and he didn't want to tease, he wanted her. She moved back, he forward and their sexes came together.

He began to push into her steadily, listening to her panting, grunting. She reached back with one hand to fondle his balls as they slapped against her, as they listened to the wetness of their coupling. She lowered her face to the pillow, turning her head sideways as he paid close attention to her wet clit with his fingers while he moved faster in her pussy.

"Yes, Pete, yes there, I'm coming..." She began to push back on his cock and he felt her pussy quiver felt her buck against him, her back bending. He thrust faster, harder until he shot the semen from his body in heavy spurts. "Ohhh yes, so good..."

Their quick, animal sex was concluded with an obligatory cigarette that they shared while he tried to focus on what she wanted - in the way of work.

She took some papers from her bag; the address of her husband's warehouse on the docks, shipment dates. "They're copies," she said, "nothing he'll miss." She got up and went to the chipped sink in the corner of the room and began to clean up as best she could. The water was cold. Pete watched her, seeing the marks on her back gleam in the flickering neon. Stubbing the cigarette out he began to get dressed.

****

Sporocco's Warehouse. The words in faded red paint needed painting but the building's size told of lucre being coined there. He left his Buick a block away from the imposing brick fascade and walked into the small office. A large black woman in a floral print dress was untangling the jam on her typewriter. She looked up.

"You oughta get your boss to buy you a new one," Stone tilted his head towards the machine. She rolled her eyes. "What can I do for you?" She wiped ink from her fingers as she walked towards the counter that seperated her office from the door.

"I'm looking to do some exporting. To Europe, I need a - reliable shipper. Thought I'd take a look at some, I have business I could put their way."

She nodded. "Well, Mr Sporocco's not in at present but could I get him to give you a call?"

"Naa. Look, any chance of a look around inside I like to get a feel of a place before I do business."

"Well, I don't know..."

"Come on, I'll get him to buy you a new typewriter if we sign a deal." He winked.

She shook her head a little. "Don't you tell him that I let you," she chastised.

"Scout's honour," he said and followed her through a door, a corridor and into the warehouse. She explained the workers were on a delivery and that they dealt a lot with South America, exporting parts for trucks, bringing in tinned fruit. In the distance the phone began to ring and she scurried away.

He moved quickly through the neat rows of crates; there was no way of opening any of them and everything looked legit to him. If they were going to pin anything on Sporocco he needed more than this.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

2.

Their second meeting was set for a place more to Kate's liking; she'd outgrown seedy backalley motels long ago, though she had to admit Stone had done her up good that night at the Bluebell. Squeezing her thighs together in anticipation, she sipped her wine and contemplated what he could do in a bed where the sheets were clean and the springs weren't busting through the ticking... especially now that her back had almost healed. Frank had been too busy lately to add new stripes to the existing ones.

"Been here long?"

Kate looked up through the swirl of smoke that trailed from the ever-present cigarette in the end of its ivory holder and smiled as Peter leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Not too. I see you found it okay."

Stone nodded and sat while the maître d' hovered with menus and a solicitation for his beverage of choice. "Scotch," he replied. "Laphroaig," she embellished, glaring when the man arched an eyebrow in surprise.

"Laffwhat?" Peter finally asked when they were alone.

"You'll like it." Kate smiled as she placed another cigarette into the holder and held it out for him to light; thanking him when he did. After taking a long drag, she leaned forward. "I got a room. Dinner and polite conversation for now. Business and... well, not so polite conversation for later."

She slipped off one of her heels and ran her foot up Peter's leg for emphasis, reaching the bulge in his trousers just as the waiter appeared to take their dinner orders. Kate grinned wickedly, loving the feel of his cock growing beneath her toes. "I think I'll order for both of us... If you don't mind."

Peter glared, or gave an attempt to, as his hand closed around her naughty, probing foot. "That will be... fine." She almost squealed when he began to tickle, turning it into a cough behind the menu she'd lifted to cover her face. He didn't do as well, lowering her food with a satisfied "Heh."

"Touché."

"Uh huh."

"Are you ready to order, Monsieur?" the young man asked in what was obviously a fake French accent with a barely concealed sniff of what could only be disdain.

Christ, the staff here was rude, Kate thought, not to mention the fact that they all walked like they had steel rods up their asses. "Yes," she snapped. "We are ready to order. We'll skip the appetizer, I think. No. On second thought," she regarded Peter over the top of her menu. "We'll have les huîtres. Mmm... salade verte and... "

Looking across her menu again, Kate couldn't help grinning at the bemused look on Peter's face. "Chateaubriand aux Champignon et Gratin Dauphinois, for him, and Coquilles Saint-Jacques en Crôute for myself. Thank you." Her tone was as snappy as the menu when she slapped it into the waiter's chest and she was half tempted to add something like oubliez la poirboire, buddy (forget the tip), but she knew the effect would be lost on the poor jerk since he probably wouldn't understand -- at least not until he didn't get one.

"When did you learn to speak French, Kate?" he asked her when the waiter had flounced away.

Kate blushed a bright crimson. "I didn't," she faltered, fumbling for an excuse. "Online menus. Three days in a row practicing."

"Bravo," he said with that boyish sideways grin she used to find so irresistible. "I just hope we didn't end up with snails or frogs legs. Or something the cat dragged out."

She chuckled. "Don't worry. It's normal food with a fancy name." Just like me, she thought. Just like me.

******

"Oysters. Am I going to need these?"

"Uh huh." He ate them all.

And when the entree came, he grinned at the enormous portion. "You could have just said steak and mushrooms and baked potato with cheese for cryin' out loud."

"But then that skinny-assed smug little bastard would have thought he had the better of us," Kate replied.

"You're still a snob, Kate."

"I know. And you love it, too."

The rest of the meal went the same way. Small talk. Banter. A bit of this and a bit of that. He talked, she listened. Stone talked about the things he'd done since they had seen each other last. She talked about the time before and now. He paid attention to her silence when it came to the rest of it, though; it spoke volumes.

"Dessert, Madame?" This time the waiter spoke directly to Kate.

This time she wriggled her toes up under his pant leg. "No, thank you. We'll be having that... elsewhere." The blush on the waiter's face was worth every bit of the fifty cent tip she intended to leave him. Prig.

Five minutes later, the bill was paid with four bits extra left as a gratuity. In her mind, Kate felt that was too much. Stone didn't comment.

They walked to the elevator in silence, the air crackling around them from the tension -- sexual and otherwise. Their business could only be discussed in private... any of their business. Kate was too close to getting what she wanted, what she needed, to risk failure. Not now. Especially not now.

"Seventeen," the bellcap said as the elevator came to a halt and he slid open the gate to let them pass.

"Number seventeen oh three," Kate said to Peter with a glint in her eye. They were only a few yards away from the rest of the plan.

Once in the room, she set her purse on the dresser, placing the key beside it. Peter had already locked the door and was in the process of undoing his tie and loosening his collar. "There oughta be a law," he grumped, tossing it on top of her bag before depositing himself in a chair.

Kate, who had already removed her jacket and hung it up, walked over to stand in front of the detective. Reaching back, she started to unzip her skirt when he stopped her. "Hold your horses, hottie. Don't you want to know what I found at the warehouse?"

She nodded, but she already knew he hadn't found anything. Frank was too careful to leave anything out in the open. She had to give him credit for getting in there though. It proved she'd chosen the right man for the job. If anyone was going to do this and do it right, it was Peter Stone.

"Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero. It was a big goose egg, Kate. I got a good look around, but there wasn't anything that would tie him to anything illegal. At least nothing I could get at. I'm sorry."

"I kind of thought it would be that way, Peter, but I overheard a phone call and I have another idea. He... keeps records, see? In his office at the house. I... know I put you in danger. I'm sorry."

When he shrugged it off, Kate took a step forward. Two steps. Her skirt rustled to the floor as she stepped out of it and climbed onto his lap. "But first... "

Peter's hands slid from her waist up her sides as she leaned forward to kiss him. He tasted like Scotch and she was thirsty. She'd tell him the next bit when she'd drunk her fill. And he, his.

 

[chris2c4u]

They kissed long, occasionally hard, always passionately. She moved even closer into his arms but didn't remove any more clothing, she just pushed him against the wall and moved her body against his.

She felt his sex, hard, trapped in his pants and enjoyed the feeling. He enjoyed sliding his hands down over her suspender belt, around the tops of her stockings, up to the damp cotton between her legs. She ground on his fingers, then against his thigh. She reached down and through his clothes pawed at his cock to hold the tented material in her fist and rub it on her, their eyes locked for a moment before he looked down at how she was using him.

He reached forward sliding his hands under her top, needing the feel of her skin. She moved closer, her fingers unzipping his pants. She kissed his lips, one at a time, lower then upper, drawing them into her mouth. Then again, then again as her hand massaged his cock, drawing it through his boxers, through the hole she had burrowed in his pants. Her fingers slid down its length in time with the kisses she alternately gave on his lips.

She grasped his erection tightly as her last kiss again engulfed his mouth. She smiled into her kiss as she felt him try and thrust, knowing how aroused she was making him. He wanted to pleasure her in his own way but she wouldn't let him; she was in control.

With less care than she would normally lavish on them she roughly surrounded his scrotum, hearing him gasp, feeling him flinch until she had his balls in her hand. She massaged him, swallowing his moans, pulling his balls forward until they too pased through his boxers but remained in his pants.

Breaaking their kiss, remaining next to his mouth she breathed, "pull down my panties."

He eagerly reached between her legs to grasp the material, pulling them down as far as the suspender belt would let him. His hands began to try and undo the stocking but she pulled his fingers away.

There was enough room for her to pull him towards her, guide his cock into the tangled clothing and run it along her wet slit. He was about to say about protection when she let him know she's taken care of that with her cap. As she did, she slipped his cock inside her. Angling her body she managed to press down on it, pushing his pants away from the shaft until he was buried inside her.

Grunting, excited by the suddenness, he began to thrust, as she had hoped he would, taking his pleasure. His hands slid up under her blouse again, displacing the bra, pawing her breasts.

WShe slid a hand down, wetting her fingers with her juices, massaging her clit as he pushed and grunted, clutched and fondled.

She saw him tensing, felt him pushing harder; "come for me Pete. Do it." She rubbed herself faster as she watched him thrashing helplessly against her, in her until his fingers became claws on her backside and she felt his cock throbbing, shooting, helping her to squeal in her own climax.

****

He watched her dress herself as she handed him the spare keys to her house.

"It's the only way. Go there, see what you can find in his office. This is the combination of the wall safe. These are his appointments for the week. The best time will be the Hampton's Ball in a couiple of days. All the local see and be seen society couples will be there, he's sure not to want to miss it. As I'm going as the trophy wife I can keep tabs on him and if anything changes, I'll call you." She walked over, kissing his mouth which he felt sure was slightly bruised with her recent attentions. "You'll have at least 4 hours."

 

[Maid of Marvels]

3.

Kate's nerves were stretched tight as a drum by the time they left for the Hampton's. Frank looked dashing, of course; his cummerbund studded with swirls of gold sequin trim to match the bodice of her black marquisette gown. He seemed to like that extra proprietary flourish at public functions -- as if anyone would dare to make a move on her. That seemed to be his deal though... everything and every one was an asset, a possession that enhanced his status with the bon ton.

"Get your wrap," he said heading for the door without a backward glance. "Lou's got the car out front."

Taking one last look at herself in the full-length mirror, Kate smiled approvingly before picking up her matching handpurse and draping the sable stole over her shoulders. "Oh, it's a wrap all right, Frankie. Just you wait and see."

"Hurry up will ya!" Kate bit her tongue at his words. It wouldn't be long before... "I'm coming, Frank." She forced a smile as she climbed into the back seat and pulled the door shut. Lou never waited to open or close it for her. Besides, the skinny wop might get a chill -- it was beginning to snow.

"You know... " Frank began as the car began to move. "You look really... " He grabbed her hand and placed it on his bulging crotch. "Suck me off."

"It'll mess my makeup, Frank."

"Fuck your makeup, whore. Just do it!" Certain that she would not resist, Frank was already unzipped and pulling his cock free for her to service him.

Emboldened by the knowledge that all of this would soon end, she winked lewdly at Lou who was watching in the rearview and licked her lips before bending over Frank's lap. "Yeah. That's it... that's it, you cocksucker. Take it all."

Normally, something like this would have really turned her on, but tonight it was merely a means to an end. Frank didn't take long to shoot his wad and Kate fought back a gag when he did. "Oh," he said as she repaired her lipstick and checked her hair. "I forgot to mention. I'm just dropping you off. I got some business to see to but I'll be back."

"Oh, really?" Kate asked, trying to sound nonchalant despite the frantic pounding of her heart. Of course she already knew this... Frankie boy always got a hankering for a quickie when something was brewing. Not to mention, the conversation she'd overheard more than a week ago...

"Yeah," he'd said. "It's the night of the Hampton's. Perfect cover. Meet you at ten. Sharp."

No matter. It would still give Peter a chance to get into the house and the office with plenty of time to spare. They were silent for the remainder of the drive, each lost in their own thoughts.

After being deposited at the Hampton's, Kate made her entrance and excuses for her husband's belated, though impending, arrival. She chitchatted mostly, the kind of polite small talk that was always expected at this type of function, only accepting a few dances. If she appeared nervous, it was quickly dismissed as her expectation of Frank's appearance.

"Kate?" It was Sophie Hampton, speaking quietly at her side. "There is someone here to see you."

"Indeed?" Kate arched a questioning eyebrow.

"Come with me, dear. You can use the study." The look on the older woman's face told her everything she needed to know, though she didn't let even one of her thoughts travel to her face as she was ushered into the room and greeted by two men, obviously cops.

 

[chris2c4u]

Pete pulled down his hat against the slight rain that began to fall and walked the final quarter mile to the house. More mansion; it took up half a block as he expected. There had been no point going to early and risk people still being around. He checked his watch; 10-45.

He made his way into the alley where a single light struggled to cast violet beams into the blackness that seeped like octopus ink, over the bins and used condoms.

Putting on gloves, he fumbled with the keys Kate had given him to open the small side entrance. As it creaked he waited. A cat slipped out to fraternise with the dark. The door took him down a corridor past the kitchen; the staff had all been given the evening off according to Kate but he took no chances and moved slow. Ahead, the hallway and a distant haze of light. From her description, Frank's office was nearby. His feet sank into the imported Axminster carpet; a large tank of tropical fish bubbled away as he noticed another light on in Frank's office and another in what he took to be the lounge.

He slipped into the office and two things ambushed his mind. The papers on the floor that had clearly meant to live on the desk. The open wall safe, its papers too scattered on the floor. Something was fishy - and it wasn't anything in the tank in the hallway.

He decided to look around the house before trying to find anything in the mass of papers in the office. He headed over to the lounge. And whistled.

"Frank, nice to meet you," he addressed the corpse with the imploded face where the slug had smashed its way through and out the back of his head. The body lay contorted on the floor, more papers scattered around. Without touching it he looked at one of them. The code wasn't exactly rocket science - the South American imports weren't quite so innocent after all; there was the proof of drug dealing Kate had wanted. Trouble was, now the police would find it and they would start sniffing round about that probably with more interest than who had iced the slime ball.

He went looking for a phone before he heard the commotion outside. The hammering on the door was followed by "Police, open the door."

He sighed and sauntered over. "Don't come waving any guns when I open up, OK, we're both on the same side here," he called out.

"Just open the door sir. We're responding to a call about an incident here."

Pete opened up; he was of course forced to the floor and searched before he had a chance to explain anything.

Behind the muscle who had come in first was the hangdog face of Tony Carpe. He nodded at Pete; they had run into each other in some pretty unsavoury places. Pete offered him a smoke but he Tony declined. "I'm on the fuckin wagon too. What's goin on here Pete?"

"The nice Mr Sporocco had an argument with a 45. Guess who won?" They sauntered through to where officers were already trying to prevent contamination of the scene and were calling for the coroner.

"And what brings you here?" Tony put another piece of nicotine gum in his mouth.

"The lady of the house was having some maritals. I was having a look around..." he dangled the keys, "with permission, while I thought they were both out hobnobbing with high society."

A uniform called, "Detective, looks like we got a possible weapon." Tony walked over and looked behind the gold sofa and nodded.

"Pete, you were always mighty particular about that Remington with the pearl handle, weren't you? Why'd you drop it?"

Pete made to walk over but was restrained by an officer. "My gun?"

Tony cocked an eyebrow. "Looks that way. I think we go to the station house and you answer some questions."

****
Bill Prtridge was a big guy; not unusual for a lawyer. Mind you, he didn't like enclosed spaces and that didn't do too much good when he had to interview in a cell. What Bill told Pete didn't make him any happier though. Foerensics had come through, the gun was the murder weapon. The gun, also, was his Remmington. That he could explain - it had sat in the bottom drawer in his office for months, anyone could have taken it.

Bill hammered on with the tale of woe. There was no sign of any forced entry to the house. The police were going to hold him for more questioning.

"Since Tony also knows you from old and that you don't do maritals, he got wise straight away something wasn't straight up here. I think things are looking - well, not so good at the moment Pete." Bill wiped some perspiration from his face as Pete sat thinking, who? Why? Who was setting him up and why?

 

[Maid of Marvels]

4.

An anonymous tip. No sign of forced entry. Did he have any enemies? Yes, ma'am. We understand, but we have to ask anyhow. Blah, blah, blah. They would be honored to escort her home. Yes, please. The driver was with Frank last she knew.

No matter how you looked at it, Frank was dead. Gone gone. And Peter Stone had been arrested for his murder.

The funeral was not as obscenely grand as Frank would have liked, but there was no point in throwing good money after bad; and the obsequious attentiveness of the priest at the graveside almost made her want to give a huge donation to the church just to shut him up. Almost. Not quite.

Pleading a headache, Kate finally watched the last limousine drive off before removing the semi-sheer black veil that had served well to hide the stifled laughter that shook her shoulders all morning and half of the afternoon. Ahh... the poor grieving widow.

Pouring four fingers of single malt, Kate Sporacco sank down onto the sofa and burst into gales of laughter. It was over. At last.

Well... almost. Just a few loose ends to tidy up.

 

[chris2c4u]

Bill offered the only advice that he could. Plead guilty and look for life otherwise get convicted and fry.

Pete eventually admitted to himself it was a good job that she's done, the frame. At the trial she even managed to make their past dalliances look good. Yes, she testified she kissed him once or twice. More, when they were younger. Of course she hadn't realised he was still attracted to her. That he would go so far, to kill, to try and get back into her life again. Then all the umpleasantness about her husband's terrible drug dealing which she knew nothing about. She looked good in black and the breakdown moments on the stand she milked. The judge was eating out of her hand. Pete wanted to applaud.

What he didn't get was how she had managed to trash every witness he brought forward to say that he had been with her several times just before Sporocco was murdered. The ex-con at the Bluebird had come through for him - but a whole gaggle of high rolling witnesses put her at some society shindig with her husband at the very same time. Even the little fake French waiter's story didn't hold up. She was at the opera, it seemed.

Every time he looked at her in the courtroom she avoided his eyes.

And the jury sentenced Stone to twenty-five years to life.

She never answered the letters that he sent. She wouldn't, of course. He heard she went to Europe, someplace.

Sam turned around looking at the silent, attentive faces in the Tabard.

Who did bump off Sporocco? He drained his Manhatten.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

5.

Six months later...

She sighed, tossing the latest letter from Peter into the fire unread. It really was a shame about Stone, but... She finished dressing. Next week she'd be in Paris for the spring fashion show. Maybe a new hair style. Perhaps even another color. New day, new life... new lovers.

She walked to the meeting place they'd set up. Having established a long walk as part of her daily routine over the past few months, no one would look askance. It wasn't far.

"Kate! So good to see you at last!" She greeted the woman who was a mirror image of herself. "I'm sorry that it took so long... "

Her twin ran into her arms, tears gleaming in her eyes. "Thank you, Sandy. Thank you so very much. I don't know how I will ever... " Her eyes grew wide in shock as the blade slid neatly between her ribs and up into her liver. "Sandy?"

"Get over it, you whiney brat. You set yourself up for that scum Sporacco then called me to clean up your mess. Just like all the other times. But this was the last, Katie. Have a nice long... afterlife."

She didn't know when the idea had come to her exactly. Not right away, anyhow. There was the phone call and the sight of her sister, bruised and battered waiting for her at the airport. The memories of all the scrapes she'd gotten Kate out of over the years... Just because she was six minutes older didn't make her responsible for all of her twin's failings.

They'd switched places often enough growing up. This time would be no different. "Kate" moved into a backwater motel and Sandy took up residence with Frank. The rest was a piece of cake... and she was loving the icing.

Sandy started to laugh as she emerged from the glade, leaving her twin sister laying on her back, her eyes locked in frozen perusal of the glorious Austrian sky. Kate always did say she wanted to travel.

******

Rebecca looked up with a smile. "Now that's what I call a Manhattan. Anyone else need a refill?"

MANHATTAN

Ingredients:

3/4 oz Sweet Vermouth
2 1/2 oz Blended Bourbon
dash Angostura bitters
2 or 3 ice cubes
1 Maraschino cherry
1 twist of orange peel

Mixing instructions: Combine the vermouth, whiskey, bitters and ice in a mixing glass. Stir gently, don't bruise the spirits and cloud the drink. Place the cherry in a chilled cocktail glass and strain the whiskey mixture over the cherry. Rub the cut edge of the orange peel over the rim of the glass and twist it over the drink to release the oils but don't drop it in.

Enjoy.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

1.

"I'll have a Red Velvet if you're not too busy," JoAnne Addison called out from the corner booth. She had gotten lost while travelling when it started to snow. Luckily, she'd spotted the Tabard from the road and it didn't look like she -- or anybody else, for that matter -- would be leaving any time soon, so she may as well. "A story, too?"

Rebecca nodded when she brought the drink over.

"Okay. Here goes... "

http://www.bibracte.dreamwater.org/ATWAS/birdcagenow.jpg

Eadon Foster remembered it as if were yesterday.

She had run away from home at sixteen, heading first for New York and finally making a name for herself among the painted cats there. It was a way for a woman to make money and make money she did. A few years later though, after hearing about the mining camps, Eadon headed west for yet another golden opportunity.

Getting off the stage, she pulled a crumpled piece of paper with an address on it from her bag. 6th and Allen.

"Boy!" she called out to a youngster playing with a couple of friends in front of the Mercantile. "Where's the Bird Cage Theatre? There's some coin in it for you if you help me get my trunks over there and show me the way."

"Yes, MA'AM!!" the boys replied excitedly. "We'll be glad to lend a hand."

Eadon had arrived in Tombstone.

They chitchatted back and forth, the boys telling her who-was-who in town while they walked, and it wasn't long before they stopped and pointed. "This is the place you're looking for, ma'am. The Bird Cage."

Eadon stood still for a minute and looked at the building. So this was Will Hutchinson's place. Mamie from back East told her he was fair as long as you didn't cross him, and Eadon didn't intend to. The Bird Cage would either make or break her and she was too good to be broken.

Running her fingers through her tangled mass of auburn curls, she smoothed her hands down over her dress. Her voluptuous bosom and tiny waist were both good for holdin' onto, she'd been told. Smiling a perfect smile, she indicated with a toss of her head that the boys should follow as she stepped through the doors and into a new life.

Turning to the boys that had carried her trunks, Eadon took some coins out of her purse and gave them each one, stooping down to kiss the eldest one on the cheek. "Thanks, Danny. You're a peach." Blushing furiously, Danny mumbled "Any time, Miss Eadon." His friends poked him in the ribs as they ran laughing and teasing into the bright sunlight of Tombstone.

It took a moment for Eadon's eyes to adjust in the smoky haze as she looked around, glancing up at the fourteen red velvet draped cages, seven on each side of the room, and wondered how one got "up there". It wouldn't be long before she found out.

Even at this hour of the day, the Bird Cage was bustling. Lively conversations, laughter and the sound of clinking glasses added to the melody that someone was playing on the grand piano in the orchestra pit. Eadon caught the arm of a sultry dark haired beauty as she passed by. "Can you help me? I'm looking for the owner, William Hutchinson. I have a letter of introduction from a friend of his back East."

"Ahh... you must be the one named Eadon. We have been expecting you. I am Gabriella Valdez, the Proprietress. Si?" Taking the younger woman's arm in a conspiratorial manner, Gabriella called out to someone to move the luggage before leading her to a corner table.

"Line them up, Gabrielle! Morgan Kane is in town! I'll take the freshest bird first and then it's backwards in time time."

The laugh that followed was overloud, but not terribly unpleasant and Eadon found herself grinning along with Gabriella as a look of understanding passed between them. He was to be her first.

A quick trip to the bar, gained her two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. Positioning a chair close by, she asked if she might join him despite the fact she'd already done. "Why sure, Miss... "

"Eadon. I'm the 'freshest bird' here and always will be," Eadon answered with a naughty grin.

An hour later, when she poured the last drops of the bottle into his glass, Morgan called for more. Unsure, she glanced toward Gabriella who nodded while motioning for another of the girls to take her place. Rising from her chair, Eadon leaned over to kiss him even as she maneuvered her replacement onto his lap.

Relieved of her duty to Kane, Eadon wove her way through the tables, stopping here and there to say hello and greet the men that she would soon come to know more intimately with time.

Two years later, she was still the 'freshest bird' and one of the favorites. Waving and blowing kisses, she was making her rounds when she first saw him...

"My name is Eadon, Mister... ?" For a moment the man was silent, his eyes absorbing her figure and removing a stray lock of hair from her face before smiling broadly. "Howdy, Eadon. My name's Luke. It's a hot one out there. Would you like something to drink?"

"I would like..." Eadon slipped her arm around his waist with a wink as he draped his own over her shoulder. Grabbing a bottle as they passed the bar, they walked slowly down the narrow hallway that led behind the cages, each just big enough to hold a bed and a table.

And so it began.

JoAnn leaned back and took a sip of her drink before continuing...

 

[chris2c4u]

The town bustled. Dammit. Plenty of faces for them to hide among; right now one of them could be taking aim at my back.

Luke looked around to check out his thought. Allen Street stretched away into the distance but now he noticed the barroom with the garish sign. The Birdcage Theatre. There was nothing to lose; wherever he was he was a target.

He walked into the Birdcage's subdued lighting. The air was heavy with smoke, cheap perfume and liqour. Underfoot sawdust settled on his worn boots. A drunk slept noisily in a chair where a cleaner worked around him. One of the girls, who he'd expected to find, was playing patience with an old pack of cards. She gave him a wink as he made for the bar, noticing the empty stage. He took the proffered whisky and asked the girl who had now slid onto the stool next to him, "have they flown the coop?"

She was skinny and covered her mouth when she giggled so he wouldn't notice the missing front tooth. Sometimes things got a bit rough.

"Next show's later this afternoon, you going to stick around?"

"I might," he said, still unsure; he supposed this might be as good a place as any - have some fun before...

He looked at the velvet draped openings on the floor above.

"Would you like to have a look upstairs?" she smiled.

"Not just now," he said, "I'll finish my drink."

"There's poker downstairs," she said as she slipped off the stool a little disappointed. "It's a high roller though." She walked back to the small table and her half finished game.

He'd rolled high in his time; now, though, well he admitted to himself he was on his own and hiding out. For now.he finished another drink and was about to start on a third when he heard a voice.

"My name is Eadon, Mister... ?"

He looked over; the girl's face was framed by loose auburn curls; one had strayed and without thinking he reached out to move it from her face. He smiled."Howdy, Eadon. My name's Luke. It's a hot one out there. Would you like something to drink?" His voice sounded almost normal to him, almost unconcerned. He took in her figure which she knew how to display and felt himself getting arousedby what he saw.

"I would like..." Eadon slipped her arm around his waist with a wink as he draped his own over her shoulder. Grabbing a bottle as they passed the bar, they walked slowly down the narrow hallway that led behind the cages, each just big enough to hold a bed and a table.

The girl at the table by the door sighed. Eadon. They all wanted Eadon. She turned the cards.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

2.

"Make yourself comfortable, Luke" she said, tilting her chin up to kiss him before drawing the red velvet curtains closed. Most of the men she catered to preferred to get down to at least their drawers before she undressed to join them. Not thinking he'd be any different, Eadon was surprised when she felt Luke's fingers fumbling with the fastenings on her gown.

"I can... " she began, but he paid no mind to her protests, smoothing his hands over her shoulders as he lowered it, allowing the dress to fall to the floor with a silken swoosh. Not that she believed the customer was always right, but she knew that different men had different tastes and perhaps Luke's was undressing a woman. Who was she to argue?

Without turning around, Eadon stepped free of her gown and leaned back against Luke's chest, his arms snaking around her body. When he bent to kiss the curve of her neck, his hands cupped her breasts gently over the top of her silk chemise before easing it over her head.

This was nothing like the normal pawing and groping she had grown accustomed to and she felt her areolae pucker and her nipples stiffen as he rolled them between his fingers. Sure, she put on the show for customers, but there hadn't been a one who had piqued her interest in a long, long time. Until now.

Suddenly, Eadon let out a whoop. Luke had scooped her up and was carrying her over to the bed, his body following hers as he placed her gently on the mattress. My, my. This one was certainly full of surprises, she thought as she looked into his eyes. She could see his desire as he leaned closer and covered her mouth hungrily with his own.

It seemed like forever before Luke broke the kiss and sat up, fumbling to remove his own clothing without appearing awkward. He was quite an eyeful, she thought. Lean and muscled and... ready. Very, very ready. For all his tenderness, Eadon meant to give him his money's worth -- and then some.

She patted the spot beside herself and smiled. "C'mon then." It didn't take much to encourage him as his hard body slid in next to her warm curves and soft places. "I want... " she said for the second time that day, meaning every word of it.

 

[chris2c4u]

Slowly Luke removed the clothing from the barroom girl. She had been surprised at the start; it was unusual for an encounter to begin like this or potentially last so long. The miners and cowboys liked her well enough but they hadn't seen an available woman for so long they just wanted to get in her as quickly as they could.

Now though, Luke was slowly undressing her, savouring each patch of skin he uncovered while remaining clothed. She managed to open his shirt a little but he continued deftly to strip her, to lavish kisses on her exposed flesh. As he unveiled her breasts he looked in her eyes as his hands lifted them, almost weighing, almost massaging before he kissed her neck, the tops of her breasts. Then around; below, teasing her hardening nipples by ignoring them for minutes. He let her hands drift over his body, let her pull herself closer, save that she leaned back enough for him to keep his attentions on her breasts.

Her hips moved against him; she could feel his hardness through his pants. He let her unbutton his shirt, her fingernails running across his chest as he at last drew his mouth around her right nipple and suckled it hard and deep into his hot, wet mouth. She was pulling at his shirt now, he could feel her own kisses on his neck, his shoulder as they swayed against one another. As he moved his mouth wetly across her chest to take her other nipple his hands completed her disrobing. She stood naked in his arms against his half dressed body.

He caressed her ass as their mouths met greedily, as they explored one another, kissing. he slid his hands into her hair before they broke the kiss. They were both breathing deeply before he swept her off her feet and she laughed, her softness next to him. He leaned back to look at her nakedness as he cast off the remainder of his clothes.

She smiled, seemingly comfortable with his gaze as he explored her with his eyes. She patted the bed but his hands then, as he knelt on the bed, his mouth was kissing between her thighs, his kisses moving closer to her sex.

Outside the bar became a little noisier. The sound of new customers? He shut it out, hoping he had more time, thay they hadn't found him.

His mouth gently, sensitively, closed on her lips as he tasted her sex for the first time.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

3.

Eadon tensed at the unexpected sensation when Luke parted her lips with his thumbs. She was no prude, her years in the business attested to that, but this... this... She found herself gasping in delight as his lips closed around the nubbin that few -- if any -- of her customers had ever paid attention to before. Of course more than a few of them had no complaints about her putting her lips around theirs.

Lifting her head to watch, Eadon was even more aroused by the fact that Luke's eyes were directed toward her face for reaction and was pleased to admit that she didn't have to "fake it". "Mmm... Sugar Man," she murmured. "Please don't stop." He had pulled back and was grinning at her with a crooked sort of grin that she found more than a little endearing.

She reached toward him, weaving her fingers into his hair as he resumed his lascivious assault. This time, though, he used his tongue -- like a cat lapping at cream. Long, languorous licks that were driving her to distraction. Eadon gasped again as he inserted first one finger then two into her slick opening.

Luke took his time, like a connoisseur. And, ohhh, he was that. She groaned appreciatively, her hips writhing against his mouth. Wanting him closer, deeper... aching for release. For all the times she had promised someone a slice of heaven, it had taken forever for her to get a piece in return, and she wanted this one to last more than one course. Her body, unfortunately, was not in agreement with her intentions as the normally immune soiled dove felt herself slipping over the edge.

Eadon's body trembled and shook, lost in the throes of the first orgasm she'd had by any save her own hand in a dog's age. Crying out in its intensity, she soon found that it was more than she could bear. "Please, Sugar Man... Please... No... more... "

She tugged and Luke obeyed, slithering up her sweat-covered body to kiss her deeply, sharing the taste of her most intimate of places as she reached between and guided him between her legs. "Inside... " she moaned. "I need... "

JoAnne leaned back to look at her rapt audience. "I need... " she said. "... another drink, please" and grinned broadly. "More?"

The people gathered around to hear her tale nodded as one as Rebecca placed a second Red Velvet in front of her with a chuckle. "Yes, please. Do go on.

"And so I shall," she replied, first taking a sip. "And so I shall."

The feel of Luke's erection entering her was like no other she'd ever known. A man full of surprises, this one, Eadon thought, wondering what else he might have in store for her.

Eadon tightened her muscles, gripping him as he sunk into her like a hot knife into butter. "Sweet, sweet Sugar Man," she whispered as they lay still for a minute, just... enjoying.

The sounds of the Bird Cage had faded away into a sort of hum as one of the songbirds downstairs began to sing a melancholy tune, but the lovers -- and so they had become -- had a tune of their own playing as Luke slowly began to rise and fall inside of her and Eadon met his every movement with a fiery passion as they commenced a dance older than time.

 

[chris2c4u]

Luke felt her hips rise as their bodies melted together, soon to become joined. He suckled her nipples, her shoulders, before they lay still for a long moment as he slipped easily into her body.


"Sweet, sweet Sugar Man." He felt her body arch as she pressed up against him.
He pulled back as she moved up, teasing her, making her gasp as she sought more pleasure, looked for the hardness of bone to grind her clit against.

He moaned as her legs parted and their movements coalesced into heated thrusts, as he slipped his hardness into her wet pussy. As they moved, as they kissed greedily he felt his balls push against her rear as they coupled harder, faster.

Luke felt her responding, listened to her mewling as he soaked up the feelings her tight sex gave him with every roll of her hips, ever one of his thrusts.

He pushed harder inside her as he lay on her, feeling her moving beneath him even as she relaxed, opened her legs to his penetration. She clutched his ass, as his lips ran down her throat, her nails raked his back as he suckled her neck, marking her for the next few days as his.

His hips thrust against her, his breathing deep as he buried his hard cock inside her. His hands explored the softness of her thighs, moving them around his waist, letting him get deeper, letting her wrap her ankles around one another in the small of his back.

He gazed at her feeling her hard nipples on his chest as they slowed for a moment, as he pulled his cock almost out. She pulled his head to her and their mouths devoured each other.

Every sensation was heightened. He felt her pussy slowly tightening on him as he moved to slide deeper even than before, to move his body against her clit in circles as they both began to loose control.

Hard, fast; nearly out of her, deep within. Sounds, scents, an intensity growing. He caressed her breasts feeding on her soft skin, biting her, losing control.
His mouth, open as was hers as they tried to kiss but were locked in the primal, final upswell as he took her in his arms, clawing pulling her to him as his cock began to spurt hot seed deep in her sex.

****

The barman was old, small. He wasn't going to stand in the way of the two young men. They'd been riding for who knew how long, they stank of stale sweat and horses - and they were looking for someone with a cold eyed determination.

It was Eliza who stopped them; a flash of thigh, a bright smile.

"What's your pleasure boys? You know, we like people to be happy here."

The taller of the two pushed his hat back and gave her a crooked toothed grin. "Maybe later. We have business to tend to first. You seen a guy called Luke?"

Eliza shook her head.

The stockier of the two knew he was in there. "Well, if you do, you let him know we'd like to see him outside. Business. Then maybe you and I could do some business?"

Eliza smiled. "Sure." She managed to ignore the smell hoping he would like an erotic bath with her - with plenty of cologne.

The taller man bit back words; he'd had his mind on laying Eliza himself but didn't want to share and didn't want to wait. He looked around and found himself a red head singing a tune. He grinned at her and winked.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

4.

Satiated, they collapsed together, according the soiled dove with yet another "first" -- Luke did not pull out, dress and make ready to leave. Nor did she want him to.

Eadon giggled when he rolled them over en suite, squeezing him tightly within her inner depths. Now on top, it was her turn. Bending over, she kissed Luke's forehead and then his eyes and cheeks and even his chin before making her way to his lips. He kept his eyes open, studying her as if he would memorize the very twinkle in her eye, every line in her face, her inmost soul and every secret she had ever known. From any other, it would have been disconcerting; with Luke it was unquestionably "right".

Her hips rocked gently against his making him smile as he flexed his burgeoning erection to show his revived interest. "Mmm... Sugar Man," Eadon purred. "That feels... so... nice. But... "

Luke's eyebrow arched, an unspoken question, as Eadon gently eased herself up and off. This time it was her turn to grin. Placing her forefinger against his lips, she leaned forward again, the slick hardness of his manhood trapped between their bodies as she slowly, lovingly blazed a trail with her mouth that led to the object of her desire.

She knew he was watching as she cupped his sac with her hand, still watching when her hair tickled along its length. Eadon only looked up when her fingers circled its girth, her crimsoned lips parted and her tongue flicked out to taste.

Eadon kept watching as her tongue trailed downward, her lips nuzzling at his balls. Gently taking them into her mouth and letting them slip out again, she suckled her way back upward, pulling back his foreskin to flick at the wedge on its underside before swirling her tongue around its head.

Luke tensed when she took him into her mouth, and she looked up in surprise, wondering if she'd done something wrong. For a minute, he seemed to be "elsewhere", but his fingers in her hair and the hoarse lustiness in his voice as he encouraged her to go on told her otherwise.

The momentary uncertainty appeased, Eadon continued what she'd begun; taking his cock fully into the warm wetness of her mouth. As his hips began to rise and fall, Eadon murmured her arousal at being able to assuage his.

 

[chris2c4u]

You seen a guy called Luke?

The voice filtered up from the floor of the cathouse, through the curtains and his body tensed just as Eadon's mouth encircled the hardness she had re-invigorated so soon. Her eyes searched his face, met his gaze for a moment before he seemed to relax, to allow her to pleasure him.

He moved against her mouth feeling the heat, the way she sucked him, the way her tongue moved against him and took the pleasure she offered him. His hands tangled in her hair as her mouth, her head moved quickly against him as she drew from his body another climax, another taste of his seed.

Slowly she trailed up against him and lay naked in his arms.

"That was on the house sugar man, to thank you..." She kissed his mouth but sensed his growing distraction and sighed. She began to feel ehrself a body once again, doing a job, not a woman like he had made her felt not so long ago. With a grin she sat up but the smile faded when she saw his face.

"What's the matter?" She pushed strands of hair back over her shoulders, her full breasts firm bared for his gaze.

He looked at her, "I've business to take care of," he said quietly. "I need to see some people, out front."

She bit her top lip. "Sugar, people here who do business in the street - some of them don't come back to the Birdcage. And I want you to come back."

He smiled and began to untangle himself from the bed.

"I intend to come back."

She felt her hands ball into fists. "People? You said people out there? You're outnumbered?"

"Two of 'em. Not the brightest and not the best shots."

With a slowness that came from the cold spreading through his veins as he knew there was no point in running now, he dressed slowly and idly wondered if it was for the last time.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

5.

Eadon watched Luke dress, though she did not. She wanted to remember their short time together and how he had made her feel; wanting to etch every part of him into her head, the way he had unwittingly wheedled his way into the stony cold of her heart. She'd been in the business a long time. Longer than most. Maybe it was time to call it a day.

They spoke no more until Luke turned back just before stepping out of the cage with an air of unrefutable resolve. Only then did Eadon smile her sunniest smile and blow a kiss which he caught and placed over his heart. "Au revoir, Sugar Man," Eadon finally whispered when he was out of sight. "Au revoir."

She meant to stay alone for a while, but the shouting that rose up from the street drew her attention. Dressing hurriedly without caring to don her short clothes beneath or even bothering to brush her hair, Eadon rushed headlong down the narrow passage.

"Out of my way! Out of my... "

Oblivious to everything, the bedraggled painted cat continued her single-minded advance through the main room of the Birdcage and its denizens, causing more than a few eyebrows to raise. Angry mutters from those she roughly elbowed out of the way fell on deaf ears. She had to make it to the door in time. She had to...

At last!

Eadon wrenched open the door and raced out onto the boardwalk that fronted the building. Looking back and forth and back again, she finally saw him among the rapidly thinning crowd. He was still standing. Dear God, he was still standing!

 

[chris2c4u]

Luke went downstairs and headed towards the front door; if they were watching the back they'd get an easier shot at him with fewer people around. No, the front it was.

With a thought of his mother he recalled the few Sunday's she'd managed to get him to church and smiled to himself; maybe praying was worth a try. The Lord's Prayer they'd called it; he couldn't remember it so decided why not just talk. Well, guess me and St Pete might be meeting up soon Lord and I guess my name won't be on the invites in to see you. Still, you you don't owe me nothin'. With a grin he added, as far as I know I don't owe nothin' to you. Still - hey, I don't need miracles - how about a little luck?

He shook his head. You know I ain't never prayed before. He leaned against the door frame, enjoying his conversation. The barman stood and watched the man looking up at the ceiling a little; his eyes were drawn to the spot Luke addressed God but he saw nothing. Luke cynically concluded his reasoning with the Almighty. Prayin'; is that the same as beggin' Lord? You know, I don't take no charity.

He looked up to where Eadon probably still lay, he recalled her body, recalled the heaven in her arms.

He shrugged and pulled his hat down. Who in the hell am I talkin' to?
Four shells left. He cocked his pistols, spat in the sawdust and walked out in the street.

 

[Maid of Marvels]

JoAnne finished her drink and got up from the table, all eyes on her. "Not much of an ending, huh? I often wonder myself what came of Luke... and of Eadon, too."

Walking over to the door, she opened it, letting in a flurry of snow. Standing there, as if waiting, stood a tall man with a crooked smile. Pushing his cowboy hat back on his head, he winked and offered his arm, which she took without saying a word.

Some say they vanished in plain sight. Others said it was a trick of the storm. Who's to say what really happened? After all... this was the Tabard Inn where stranger things had been known to happen.

"I'll have what she's having," a woman called out with a naughty grin. "What was it again?"

"A Red Velvet," Becca replied. "Anyone else?"

RED VELVET

1/2 cl. Grenadine
1 cl. Lime Juice
7 cl. Sprite
3 cl. Gin
1 cl. Pisang Ambon Liqueur​

Build gin, pisang ambon, sprite and lime juice in a highball glass. Top with grenadine, garnish with a lime boat, and serve.

Enjoy.

 

[chris2c4u]

"Any chance of a Bible belt, Miss Sheldrake?" The man eased himself onto the stool at the end of the bar.

"You spinning us a yarn?" she mixed the drink as the figure in black laid his homburg hat on the bar.

"It's what I do best. Shall I begin?" The drink was placed in front of him as he related his tale.

****

The hall was large, modern, spacious; the large white man prowls its full extent, back and forth. Preacher Reverend BillyBobJim Smith's sleek, dark suited, slicked back oiled haired somewhat rotund form is hardly looking at the congregation.

Suddenly he stops. "The Lord is good, say AMEN!"

With a wave of hands the crowd respond in happy-clappy style. "AMEN!"

Among them is Daisy, a young woman, not long resident in town, seemingly
joyfully joining the crowd attending to the visiting Preacher's unique style. "AYYYYYYYYYYYYY MEN," she chants.

Holding his head with one hand he turns, the microphone to his lips. He points out into the crowd. "Step up here my child, with me...yes I mean you, lil lady. Let everyone see you. I believe you have a story that is an inspiration."

Looking around Daisy realises he means her and hurries up the stage, tripping on the steps in her haste. Many men in the congregation help the poor girl up. She beams happily at the familiar hands and there is applause as she approaches the portly Preacher. She stands in awe of this great man as he asks her her name.

"Brothers and sisters, Daisy here, I feel has a tale that leads from the slough of despond to the gates of the holy city itself." Applause breaks out once again.

Slipping his hand comfortingly round her shoulders the preacher wanders around the stage with her. "Daisy, you must tell the truth, you know that now don't you, now you have been saved?"

"Godssssssssss... .YES!" she screamed, beginning to shake wildly, falling against the wonderful preacher man.

"Ahhh a holy paroxysm..." holds the limp form close. "Now child, tell us all...you have lain with...many men...and particularly...what sort of men?"

The congregation gasp, the preacher holds up his hand to silence them and
puts the microphone to Daisy's mouth as her head slumps forward to cover her shame. "yes, Reverend BillyBobJim. I am ashamed to say that I have. BUT," she added, leaning into the strong masculine arms that held her, "that was long ago. Before I saw the the light. I was looking for something that I never found there... Yes, I slept with pizzaboys. For few free pizzas and nothing more..."

The congregation collectively draw a breath as Daisy blinked back tears (remembering those times).

"Daisy. Tell us now. what number was the most pizzaboys did you slake your Devil driven lust on in one night?"

 

[Maid of Marvels]

1.

Daisy hesitated, looking up into Reverend BillyBobJim's eyes for assurance. "Six," she said faintly. "Well... it was a holiday! Hardly any places were open!" she retorted indignantly when they gasped yet again.

The preacher gazed sadly into the crowd, wiping a tear from his face as he's overcome by emotion. "And then... and then, brothers and sisters, it became much, much worse. Share with your family, Daisy. Tell them of the horrors you endured after the pizzaboys. The time when you turned to... rodents."

The sound of a woman screaming and the sight of several fainting ensued. Daisy's shivering became more pronounced now and she seemed to shrink into his voluminous arms.

"Yes, Reverend BillyBobJim. It is all... true." Her voice trailed off in a whisper, but she continued bravely. "It was like an addiction... "

A cacophony of discussions erupted, followed by angry shouts.

"Those little noses... those beady eyes... the way they scampered all over my... " Daisy's face took on a pleading look, as if for understanding, as her eyes moved from shocked face to shocked face.

"Cedric! Make her stop! It's... it's... disgusting!" a woman's voice cried out, but the Reverend BillyBobJim Smith held his ground, holding up his hands for silence and Daisy slid down his body, her face buried in his crotch as she clutched his thighs.

"Stop!" he cried. "This woman has been saved! She has put their little noses out of her mind forever with the help of the Lord! Can I hear an AMEN!, brothers and sisters. Can I have a hallellujah!"

A few half-hearted and faint responses reached their ears but the shocked whispering continued.

"As you can see... she is now a full-fledged member of our family church!"

Daisy could feel the evangelist's slowly expanding bulge and pressed her face closer. Grabbing his zipper between her teeth, she nodded vehemently, as if in agreement, though she used the motion to get closer to her goal.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw several red-faced men with no necks begin to rush onto the stage.

"Reverend BillyBobJim?" she queried innocently as he looked down at her beatific smile.

"Yes, child?" he replied, looking at the angel on her knees before him.

"Take me off stage... Please? I... I'm going to... " Her trembling seems to have magnified with every throb of the Reverend's burgeoning erection hidden from the view of the congregation only by the grace of the Lord.