Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows (23 page)

“Go ahead and kiss her,” Tim said as he came into the kitchen.

Sandra turned Greta towards Tim and, standing behind the housekeeper, ran her hands under Greta's blouse and grasped her breasts. “Greta wants to continue living with Eddie, but she also wants to continue to work for us."

Tim unbuttoned Greta's blouse so he could watch his wife's hands at work. “And what was your answer?” he asked as he unbuttoned Greta's slacks and pushed his hand inside her panties.

“It's up to you. Her boobs are a hell of a lot larger than mine.” Sandra pinched Greta's nipples and Tim smiled as blood engorged them.

“I think,” he said slowly with a wicked grin on his face, “we all need to go to the bedroom.” He removed his hand, held his middle finger close to Greta's lips and smiled as she licked her own juices with her sensuous, talented tongue.

“Please, Mr. Dollar—Tim. We can make it work without me moving in,” Greta pleaded as the trio ascended the stairs.

Sandra, who was trailing, playfully pulled Greta's loose slacks and panties to mid thigh and fondled her buttocks. “Sound's to me like you prefer your sadistic master to Tim and me, Greta."

“Sandy, I want all three of you."

Tim striped off her blouse as they entered the bedroom. “See, Greta. I even set the camcorder up on the tripod, just like you wanted. Now you're backing down on us.” He walked to the video camera and focused on his wife's probing hands as they stretched and kneaded Greta's dangling breasts.

Greta turned and gently removed Sandra's cotton shirt. Slowly she fingered the large nipples mounted on tiny mounds of snow-white flesh. “When we was panning for gold, Junior slipped and grabbed the top of Maggie's bathing suit, pulling it down off her boobs. Junior looked at her tits with his mouth wide open and said something about her breasts being a lot bigger than yours, Sandy. I wanted to tell him how wonderful your tits feel in my mouth, but of course I didn't."

She bent over and tongued Sandra's right nipple. Tim zoomed in for a close-up.

Sandra pushed Greta's slacks and panties to her ankles and held them in place while Greta stepped out of them. Tim followed the action as Sandy gripped the large buttock cheeks and kissed Greta's navel.

“I can't see what your mouth is doing, Dudette. Put her on the bed with her tail towards the camera."

While Sandy slipped out of her clothes Greta assumed the desired position, pulled her knees back to her chest and then split them apart as far as they would go. Sandra sucked as much of Greta's right breast into her mouth as possible and let her fingers travel down to Greta's damp labia.

“Sit on her face and bury your tongue in her pussy,” Tim urged as he zoomed in for a close-up of the gaping slash between Greta's legs.

Sandra lowered her vagina to Greta's waiting lips and shuddered as she felt her vaginal lips parted by an eager tongue. She leaned forward and grasped Greta's buttocks. She gasped as she realized Greta nose was rubbing her clitoris. She lowered her head. She tried to push out her tongue, but hesitated and looked up at Tim. “I can't do it,” she fretted. “It stinks."

Tim ripped off his clothes. “You man the camera,” he instructed. “It smells like a sizzling two inch thick piece of tenderloin to me."

“Sit down, Eddie,” George Bennett said.

“You wanted to see me?” Eddie asked as he sat on the sofa.

Bennett sprawled in his desk chair and drummed his fingers on the desk. “Eddie, you've been a good employee. You're a good cook and a hard worker. You've put in a lot of overtime and haven't been out sick a single day."

“Thank you, Mr. Bennett. You pay fair wages. It's a pleasure working for you."

“I didn't call you in here to praise you, Eddie. We have a problem."

Eddie's smile disappeared. “What kind of problem, Mr. Bennett?"

“Sewana has made a very serious accusation. She says you have been sexually harassing her—trying to get in her panties, to use her expression."

“Mr. Bennett,” Eddie said nervously, “I assure you..."

Bennett held up his hand. “No use denying it, Eddie. I've seen your hand on her butt and so have others. I thought it was consensual, so I didn't say anything. Even if it was consensual, the way things are nowadays, all a woman has to do is claim harassment and everybody believes her. It's up to the man to prove his innocence, and how can you prove something that never happened, never happened?"

“I admit I have flirted with her, but she has flirted with me too. Never has she asked me to stop."

“I believe you Eddie, but she can still sue you and win. It's her word against yours and who do you think the court will believe? Eddie, she's pissed with you and out to get you. You should be glad she didn't accuse you of rape."

“Look, Mr. Bennett. I promise I'll stay away from her."

“It's too late for that. She can sue me too, Eddie, if I don't take action to stop the alleged harassment. I checked that out with Susan Kimel, the lawyer in Dot. I offered to change your schedule and/or Sewana's so that the two of you don't work the same hours, but Sewana wouldn't go for it. She insists that I terminate your employment."

“You're firing me?” Eddie asked incredulously.

“I don't have any choice, Eddie, but listen to me for a few more minutes. Have you ever noticed the huge black man who comes in here sometimes—always chewing on an unlit cigar?"

Eddie's head was almost between his knees. “Yeah,” he muttered. Rage engulfed him and his mind plotted revenge as his eyes glazed over.

“His name is Willie Donaldson. Folks call him Big Willie. He's the superintendent of the Dollars’ golf courses. His wife runs the concession stand at the clubhouse. Big Willie told me the other day that his wife needs some help. I gave him a call this morning and explained your situation. He said he was in a relationship once that looked worse than it actually was. He said he'd talk to you if you are interested in working at the concession stand. I don't think he will pay you as much as I do. He groaned when I told him your salary. But Dollar Enterprises has a hell of a benefit package."

Eddie took Bennett's lead and stood up. As he shook hands he said, “You're a good man, Mr. Bennett. I don't blame you for this mess, but somebody ought to teach Sewana a lesson."

“Be careful, Eddie,” Bennett said. “We're living in a woman's world now. She told me you frequently beat your wife. I don't believe it for a minute, but if Sewana gets to Greta, you may have even more trouble on your hands. Sewana's a smart gal and she's after your hide. Don't give her any ammunition to use against you."

Eddie glared at Sewana as he passed through the kitchen to gather up his personal belongings.

“You brought it on yourself,” she said. “If you ever hurt Greta again, I'll sue you for all you are worth in civil court. If you don't believe I can do that, check it out."

“What goes around comes around, baby. One day, when you're least expecting it, you'll get yours."

“I take that as a threat."

“Take it any damn way you want to, Nigger, but it's not a threat. It's a statement of fact."

Eddie drove directly to the Dollars’ recreational complex, but he slowed as he approached Double D Acres. He could see a woman sweeping the front porch of the Dollars’ home and assumed it was Greta. There was a child playing in the front yard. Must be the brat, he thought.

This was his first visit to Dot's main commercial attraction and he was impressed. He smiled at the black lady at the snack bar as he strolled through the clubhouse. He spoke to a man in a wheelchair who seemed to be running the pro shop. “I'm here to see Mr. Donaldson."

“Who?"

“Mr. Donaldson."

The man laughed. “You mean Big Willie? I almost forgot what his last name is. Do you have an appointment?"

“No, but he's expecting me."

“Your name Eddie Crow?"

“Yeah."

“I'm Matt Dilson. I'm the manager of the Dollars’ playground. Big Willie told me about you. A bitch once falsely accused me of sexual harassment, too. It cost me my job and put me in this damned wheelchair. You'll get a sympathetic reception around here."

“I'm looking for a job in the snack bar. Do I need to see you or this Big Willie?"

“Big Willie. I think he's in the maintenance area. Go through that door and follow the path to the right."

Eddie nodded and followed the directions. When he saw Big Willie, chomping on a cigar and holding a clipboard in his hand, Eddie thought he was looking at the biggest, ugliest man ever born.

“What's on your mind?” Big Willie grunted without looking up.

“Name's Eddie Crow. Mr. Bennett talked with you about me."

Big Willie made an entry on the clipboard, took the unlit cigar from his mouth and spat on the earthen floor. “You're the guy who got the hots for a cute little sister who pressed your nuts in a vice?"

Eddie laughed in spite of himself.

“Bennett says he thinks you didn't do nothing more than flirt with the girl. Is that your story?"

“Truth is,” Eddie said, his pride wounded, “I screwed her several times. She loved it. Hell, she moved in with the wife and me so she could be close to me all the time. Then she tried to take over—wanted to treat Greta like a slave and, shit, she wanted threesomes. I wouldn't stand for it and kicked her out, but boy, did she get even with me."

Big Willie chuckled. “Let me give you a little advice, son. Don't ever mess with a sister. Hell, for that matter, don't ever mess with any female. You read about that woman who cut off her husband's pecker? Got off Scott free."

“About the job, Mr. Donaldson."

“Name's Big Willie,” he said as he rolled the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. “I run the golf courses, but Louise—that's my wife—runs me. She's in charge of the concession area and she's expecting you. Whatever she decides is okay with me."

“I guess she's the black lady I saw when I came in."

Big Willie nodded. “Let me tell you something about that woman. She's the best God ever made and good looking too. A few years ago when we were living in Winston-Salem, she was just sitting in our living room watching TV and was wounded by a damn drive by son-of-a-bitch. Bullet caught her at the base of her spine. The doctors said she'd never walk again, but she fooled them. She has a little limp, but she gets along pretty good until she gets real tired. Then she uses her walker, but we sold her wheelchair six months ago."

“Man, I'm sorry she suffered all that misery, but I'm glad she came through it all right."

“She ain't completely over it yet—still has nightmares sometimes. You go on in there and introduce yourself."

“You said her name was Louise?"

Big Willie nodded, took the cigar out of his mouth and spat again. “You listen to me, Eddie Crow. You flirt with her or put your paw on her just once and I'll squash you like a bug. You understand me?"

“I've learned my lesson, Big Willie. I won't ever again get close enough to a woman to touch her and if I have to talk to one it'll just be to say ‘yes ma'am’ and ‘no ma'am'."

On his way back to the concession stand, Eddie noticed Dilson looking at him.

“Need to see Mrs. Donaldson,” he explained. “Seems like she wears the pants in the family."

Matt smiled as Eddie paused. “What happened to the woman—the woman who wrecked your life?"

Dilson's face turned to stone. “She's dead,” he said quietly.

“You don't seem too happy about it,” Eddie said.

Matt turned and looked out the plate glass window at a foursome approaching the eighteenth green. “I loved her,” he said.

“Sorry.” Eddie turned and saw that the black lady behind the snack bar counter was watching him.

“You must be Eddie Crow,” Louise said as he approached.

“Yes, ma'am."

“Did you sexually harass that girl?"

“No ma'am."

Louise took her time looking him over from head to toe. “I don't believe you,” she said. “I won't put up with any crap from you. You understand me?"

“Yes ma'am."

“You have a health card from the county?"

“Yes ma'am,” Eddie said, producing the card for her inspection.

“Are you ready to start working now?"

“Yes ma'am."

Louise reached under the counter and handed Eddie a two-page form. “Go over to one of those tables and fill this out. When you're done, wash up, put on an apron and show me what you can do."

“You haven't mentioned salary,” Eddie said as he glanced at the form.

“Big Willie told me what you were making at the Korner Kafe. If you are as good as Mr. Bennett says you are, we'll match it."

“Thank you, ma'am."

“Eddie."

“Yes ma'am."

“Call me Louise and remember, if you mess with me I'll fire your butt so fast it will make your stomach churn."

“Yes ma'am."

Tim turned from his computer keyboard and answered the telephone.

“Tim, this is Borders. I have some news for you."

“About the Fayetteville matter?"

“Yeah. There was no back alley murder. The closest I could come to it was a serious assault that happened in an alley. A soldier took a hooker back there and, while they were doing it, she bashed his head with a brick and stole his money. There's probably more to it than that. The police identified the hooker, but the victim refused to press charges."

“What was the hooker's name, Borders?"

“Greta Dominick."

“Dominick, huh?"

“There's more, Tim. I did a search on her. I'm certain she is the woman you now have as your housekeeper who we know as Greta Crow. Only she isn't married to Eddie Crow. I searched the records in ten states."

“That's their business,” Tim said.

“Yeah, but I think it should be your business too."

“How so?"

“If I share something with you will you promise to keep it in strictest confidence?"

“Of course, Borders."

“Eddie Crow is the only suspect we have in the Elliott murders."

“I thought he'd been ruled out."

“Not entirely. I'll wager that if we could find the missing bullet and run a ballistics test on it, we'd find that the shot came from Crow's rifle. If Crow did kill Bobby and Adele, you can be sure Greta knows about it and is keeping quiet. Hell, she may have even participated."