SevenDeadlySinsSeries Read online

  “Chayton?”

  “Yes, Miss Martin?”

  “Where are the others?”

  “Miss Melissa is taking her breakfast in her room this morning.”

  “And Ms. Williams?”

  “I haven’t the foggiest, Miss Martin.”

  I could smell bullshit a mile away, and this particular pile just so happened to be standing no more than five feet behind me. “Tell me Chayton, what do you know about Kinsley.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Tell me what you know about the widow?”

  “It is certainly not my place to speak of her, or any family member.” His voice was clearly disapproving of my line of questioning, as though I’d encroached across some sacred line between servant and master.

  “C’mon Chayton. I’d have thought you would be relieved that she was no longer here. I know Carlton is.”

  “I don’t have an opinion either way, Miss Martin. Will that be all?”

  “Not so fast, Chayton. I get that you don’t approve of me being here, but for Carlton’s sake, aren’t you the least bit relieved for him that she’s gone?”

  “It is simply not my place to have an opinion, Miss Martin. And if I did, I certainly wouldn’t dare speak of it.”

  “Hmmm. Your defensive and vague answers make me doubt your sincerity, Chayton.” I was egging him on and I knew it. His anger was hard to hide, and I’m sure my line of questioning was pushing Chayton to his gentlemanly limits. Still, I had to know more about Kinsley and no one, it seemed, was eager to share.

  “I have had the pleasure of thirty seven years in the Michaud’s employ, and I say without a doubt that my loyalties lie with the family. However, Miss Martin, I would share this: Don’t for a moment underestimate Mrs. Michaud.”

  “Well, getting her out of the house was fairly final wasn’t it?”

  “Her physical presence here does not compare to her influence. I doubt the Michaud’s have seen the last of her. Now, Miss Martin, will that be all?”

  “Yes, Chayton,” I said, proud of myself for at least getting him to open up on some level. “Oh wait. One more thing. Carlton asked that I retrieve something from his father’s office. Can you make sure I’m not disturbed?”

  “As you wish, Miss Martin.”

  I knew he wouldn’t be far away.

  *-*-*-*-*

  His dad’s office was a huge room, complete with stone fireplace and floor to ceiling bookshelves. I walked behind the massive desk that sat majestically in front of the biggest window I’d ever seen. Peering out over the grounds, I could see the stone ruins of an old house on the edge of the property. Tradition runs deep with the Europeans, I thought. They seem to treasure everything. That was something I could wrap my head around! I turned my attention back to Carlton’s request and buzzed him on the phone.

  “Alright Carlton, I’m here.”

  “Good. I need a four digit code to open dad’s private safe. I’m pretty sure you’ll find an envelope taped to the door of the cabinet next to the fireplace.”

  I spun around, scanning the incredible fireplace surround. “I see it now. Four cabinet doors on the left.”

  “Right. It’s the bottom cabinet door on the left.”

  “It’s locked, Carlton.”

  “Oh yes. I forgot. You have to use the desk to unlock it.”

  “What?”

  “Trust me. The key to everything is the damn desk.”

  “I’m there. Now what?”

  “Open the third drawer on the left hand side, just halfway.”

  “Alright.”

  “Now feel up under the center drawer. There’s a small button.” He waited a moment, and then said, “Just push it.”

  “Done. This is kinda weird, you know.”

  “It may seem odd, but trust me. Now go to the cabinet. It should be unlocked now. It’s on the inside of the door.”

  “What exactly am I looking for, Carlton?”

  “Key codes. You know, like the coded doorways at the office.”

  I knew exactly what he was talking about. Push a series of buttons and unlock the door. A simple, but very effective security measure. Carlton himself had copied it in his own apartment, I thought of the secret room wishfully.

  I carried my phone in the palm of my hand as I knelt down next to the fireplace. He was right. The cabinet door now opened for me. On the inside of the door was a piece of paper taped in the upper left hand corner. “Carlton, there aren’t any numbers here. It says, LIES.”

  “What? Lies?”

  “All capitals. L I E S. Hmm, doesn’t make sense.”

  “Sure it does.”

  “Okay, Carlton, if you say so. But I’m not sure how you get a code from that.”

  “Just stand up, and look at it upside down.”

  I was beginning to think all this James Bond shit was crazy. But then again, this is one crazy ass family. I bent over just as he said, and looked at the word once again. Shit! 5317. “Okay, I see it now. Clever.”

  “Thanks, Liz. I got what I needed. Call you tonight!”

  I dropped the phone on his dad’s desk. I wasn’t through playing detective, and even though I knew I shouldn’t, I rifled through the drawers of his desk anyway. I can’t stand it when people are so organized. You know there’s got to be a catch-all drawer somewhere. I went back through the procedure and opened the cabinet door once again. Perhaps one more look would uncover something else.

  I felt bad, but the inquisitive attorney side of me was in total control and I couldn’t help myself. I pulled out folder after folder and then it caught my attention. A small King James Bible stuffed in the back of the cabinet. I leafed through it, convinced not to leave any stone unturned. And I was right. On the inside of the back cover was a series of letters with the same freakish code.

  BR – BEG

  S – OIL

  G – SLED

  K – ShE

  C – ShOES

  I wrote them all down on a yellow sticky note and shoved them into my pocket, and carefully placed the items back into the cabinet. Hopefully, no one would know. Now, I just had to figure out what the first letters meant, and of course find the door locks they went to.

  My snooping would have continued if it weren’t for the watchful eye of Chayton, who had now reappeared at the doorway. “Can I help you find anything, Miss Martin?”

  I straightened up and said, “No, Chayton. I’m through here.” I hurried towards the door and returned to my room.

  *-*-*-*-*

  I called Libby’s cell the moment I got back to Carlton’s room. It was actually refreshing to hear her voice, even if it was groggy. “Good Morning, Miss Martin.”

  It was at that moment I realized it was only 5:30 a.m. in New York City. “Oh Libby, please forgive me. I completely forgot about the time-zone thing.”

  “It’s alright, Miss Martin. What can I do for you?”

  “When you get in the office, please contact Daniel Webster’s office. I need to speak to him as soon as possible.”

  “Don’t forget he’s an hour behind me, you know.”

  “I will. Just text me a number and time to call him. Thank you, Libby!”

  I once again looked at my notes. I could barely contain myself with the desire to get back into the office. I’d certainly need to wait for an hour when Chayton wasn’t trailing me constantly as if he’s afraid I’m going to steal the silver. I changed my clothes into something a little more comfortable. I found a knit top and shorts, and pulled on my running shoes. Perhaps a walk around the grounds would be nice.

  I passed Chayton in the hall as I approached the stair case, did it seem like he was conveniently nearby a little too often? I’ve yet to figure out why he despises me so but his thoughts don’t interest me enough to worry over. I don’t like his snide glances, his better than thou tone or his pudgy properness. He’s made it clear I’m not good enough for his family. “I’m going for a walk. If anyone needs me I have my phone,” I said sternly and walk
ed down the steps and out the front door.

  Everything here seemed like it’d been here for centuries, it probably had. Marble that no American would dare to waste was formed into steps that led into a finely manicured garden. I followed the path, letting myself become absorbed in the fairytale lushness. Every turn was a lesson in rare varieties of roses, lilac, carnation, and ivy, and the combinations were breath taking. I wandered aimlessly, soaking in the silence as my phone startled me. “Good, I got you. Did you get up with Webster?” Carlton’s voice sounded drained and impatient.

  I smiled at the sound of his deep voice, “Not yet, dear. It’s not even 6:00 a.m. in the States.”

  “Right. I forgot. Please stay on top of that. I can’t deal with him today. Where are you, Liz?”

  “I’m taking in a little sun. The garden is amazing, Carlton…”

  He chuckled through the phone, “Alright Princess, enjoy your time and rest. Call you later?”

  “Can’t wait. And Carlton?”

  “Yes Ma’am?” he asked with submissive respect.

  “I love you.”

  He paused, I hoped he was smiling, “I love you too Liz. I’ll tell you more tonight. For now, I have to get going.”

  A few moments later I clicked the off button on my phone and glanced around me. I had no idea how far into the garden I’d wandered! I turned around expecting to see the towering house behind me but even it seemed lost from my view. Ahead was an ancient stone fountain, still flowing nearly silent in the depths of the Michaud garden. But the astounding sight ahead drew me like a siren. Tall brick walls stood deliberately against the horizon as if to tell stories of its past glamour. Ivy crept up the bricks threatening to obscure it from view altogether. I wandered closer, regardless of the fact that I was now completely lost. As I neared, the romantic structure nearly recreated itself in my mind. What must have been the front door formed a high arch as I meandered beneath it. Amazingly a stone staircase still rose inside; it led upwards to a rickety wooden floor that was rapidly disintegrating under the exposure to the weather.

  The main impression of the home was still intact, as I meandered through the expansive first floor I found myself standing on an open balcony. Mesmerized by the view of rolling green hillsides, a small stream crossed haphazardly through the grassy plain and drew my mind to imagine dancing fairies and trolls playing just hidden below the grass. Michaud Manor on the whole was the most outstanding example of 18th century English architecture I’d seen. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out why anyone would abandon this view and build another house anywhere else on the property. The scene before me was postcard worthy. That the Michaud’s of old had decided to relocate the residence was baffling. I certainly would’ve re-built on this exact spot. Tentatively I climbed the stone stairs to the second level. There was a window at the top and I was sure I could get an even more stunning view from up there. At the top of the steps I realized that the view led nearly to town. Tiny specks of buildings could be seen in the far distance, past the rolling hills and vast fields of green. In some areas cattle grazed lazily and deer drank from the streams that passed erratically through the view. I felt almost transposed in time as I absently stepped onto the frail wooden floor towards the next window.

  From this window the entire Michaud property came into view. Now the estate was in full sight, the house stood proud beyond the garden. I could see a lengthy garage, most likely a former stable and even the airfield where we’d landed…what? Two days ago? But suddenly my ears were drawn to a misplaced sound.

  Their frivolous giggles caught my attention; I’m not even sure why I didn’t want them to know I was there, but I adjusted my footing and remained silent. Missy and Patricia were already in a heated embrace by the time I’d noticed their appearance downstairs, I’d been lost in my own little world and now it was most assuredly too late to announce my presence. My voyeuristic curiosity took control, and this time I didn’t even bother resisting. I pressed my face to the crack in the floor and watched with intense interest as the two lovers began their dance.

  The embrace alone was burning with passion, and the exchange of kisses seemed to magnify the underlying desire they had for each other. Missy rolled Patricia over onto her back as she cuddled next to her on a brightly colored quilt, tracing her fingertips across the pocket of the white button down shirt she was wearing. Her lips pressed against the side of Patricia’s neck, sending her off into a world of moans that jolted me straight past the hormonal hell of my period and into sensual empathy.

  Missy moved her fingers up Patricia’s neck, gently lifting her jaw to accept her lips and tongue. I was mesmerized; frozen, if for just a moment, and I could almost taste her lipstick myself. My unintentional curiosity fueled my own desires, and I moved my hand inside my shirt once again.

  Every movement I made, no matter how small, seemed to be so loud I was convinced I was going to wake the dead, or at a minimum give me away. Nevertheless, the two lovers beneath me were apparently so wrapped up in each other, my presence went unnoticed. I gently squeezed my breast, forcing my eyes shut for just a moment as my imagination placed me in Patricia’s position.

  I turned my attention back, and now Missy was pushing open her blouse, revealing the prettiest lace bra. Her nipples were dark, no doubt from the rush of blood her body was sending to them, and prominently pressed against the thin lacy fabric. Missy’s fingers contrasted beautifully as she cupped and squeezed Patricia’s firm breasts. She continued her kisses down Patricia’s neck, pushing her bra down and exposing the weighty flesh to the open air. Her nipples stood erect as Missy sensually licked them to attention before her lips engulfed the engorged skin.

  Patricia moaned, and with a heavy breath exhaled and whispered, “Oh yes!”

  Missy sucked gently, releasing her breast long enough to roll her tongue around her nipple and before taking it back into her mouth. She sucked harder this time, and pressed her face into the fleshy mounds as Patricia’s fingers wove their way into Missy’s brunette hair and pulled her even further into her bosom.

  “Oh my God!” Patricia said even louder now. Her eyes rolled deep into her head as she clung to her.

  Missy’s hands were now frantically pushing her pants open, and slipping her hand beneath the waist band of her matching lace panties. I could see the movement plain as day, and Patricia opened her legs slightly to accommodate her lover. My own hand was now creeping into the top of my shorts, pressing against my clit as I mimicked the action below. I gritted my teeth, holding my breath as I subdued the urge to issue my own matching moan of approval. My hips moved instinctively toward my hand, pressing my clit even harder now.

  Patricia finally released Missy’s head, allowing her to slide her body down her long, lean, beautiful legs. Patricia’s head fell back, staring at the sky as Missy worked her magic. Her body responded in rhythm with the continued moans and groans.

  My own fingers toyed with my clit sending waves of heat through my body.

  Patricia’s legs were now over Missy’s shoulders, and I knew the feeling all too well as her hands guided Missy’s head between her smooth thighs. Missy lapped away, bringing Patricia closer and closer to orgasm. My movements now matched theirs, and I increased the pressure on my clit as my orgasm washed over me. Patricia’s legs clamped down hard, pushing her over the edge. My breathing was heavy, and once again I tried desperately to conceal my presence by holding my breath. My free hand clawed at the wooden floor board as I spasmed uncontrollably.

  I opened my eyes to see only Missy now, lying flat on her back as she wriggled out of her shorts and shirt. I could hear the movement, but clearly Patricia was now out of view. She continued to fumble clumsily with something, as Missy spread her legs and rubbed herself slowly. She was beautiful too, just not quite the exotic princess Patricia seemed to be. Her head flung back, staring at the sky as her fingers dipped slowly in and out of her pussy.

  I pulled my hand out of my shorts, smelling the sweet smell of
lust on my fingers. I turned my head, trying to change the angle just enough to catch a glimpse of Patricia.

  “Hurry up,” Missy pouted, bringing my attention back to her. “I need it so bad.”

  My inner slut was nodding her head frantically as Missy rolled over onto to her hands and knees, pushing her ass in the air.

  “Come on, baby. Give it to me!” Missy said.

  Patricia came back into view, and my eyes widened when I saw it. It was long and thick, and it was firmly strapped around her waist and thighs. This marvelous dildo was black as night, and glistened wildly in the sunshine as Patricia spread the lotion on it.

  She positioned herself behind Missy, slowly sliding the head up and down her slit as it sat poised at her entrance. She pressed the head just inside, securing the first of many vocal affirmations from Missy. Slowly she pushed it inside, an inch or so at a time before pulling almost all the way out. Then she pushed it in again, this time a little deeper.

  “Oh God, yes!” screamed Missy, her head swinging down low enough for her hair to touch the blanket. “Come on, baby. Fuck me!”

  Patricia released the cock as it sank further inside, reaching up and grabbing Missy’s hips for leverage. She pushed it all the way in, forcing the most delicious squeal from her lover.

  “That’s it,” Patricia said. “Take it all.” She pushed it in until her upper thighs had closed the gap between her and Missy’s beautiful ass.

  “Take me!” Missy said emphatically. “Make me your whore!”

  Patricia reached up and grabbed a handful of Missy’s hair, forcing her head up as she pulled it back sharply and sank the full measure of the black cock deep inside again. “Come on, bitch. Fuck my cock!”

  “Yesss,” Missy squealed. Her moans now mixed with pure pleasure as the strap-on dildo pierced her body, over and over again. I had thoughts of shucking my shorts right there on the spot as pure jealousy ripped through my body. Oh how I would love to be on the receiving end of Patricia’s affection, I thought.