CHAPTER 6 I was up before six, shaved and showered by the time I woke Cathy. She showered while I made a pot of coffee and prepared some fried eggs and bacon for our breakfast. We ate while we discussed our plans for Saturday. "Please don't be upset if I don't call between now and then.
I have two long days in court on a big class-action suit. We're suing the manufacturer of some faulty dental implants. Some patients have gotten terrible infections from them and others have fallen out, even been swallowed causing severe trauma to their stomachs or intestines.
This is a multi-million dollar suit and I'll have my work cut out for myself. The manufacturer is a foreign company—Chinese-- and they'll try to claim that the U.S.
courts have no jurisdiction. They'll lose that argument, but it will take a lot of time and effort to get past it. "Say…ever analyze structures like anchors for construction work. I'd like to have a professional opinion as to the structure of these implants. If I send some over to you will you look at them for me?
You will definitely be paid for this work." We talked about the case for several minutes before I drove her home. In our haste we forgot all about her take-away box from La Strada. I spent two long and harrowing days in court as I presented the summary of our case to the judge. They would have their chance on Monday. Their motion for dismissal was to nobody's surprise found to be without merit.
The suit would continue. I picked up Cathy at seven on Saturday morning. Her dad answered the door again. "Good morning, Michael. Come in. Catherine has most of her stuff for tonight all ready to go. Care for a cup of coffee?" "Thanks, but no. If I drink too much I'll have to go and I don't have much of a toilet on the boat.
The water's a bit cold this time of year—too cold for me to jump in and take a leak. Run out of jokes or is it too early for you today?" I handed him Cathy's box from La Strada. "I've been instructed to keep my mouth shut, Michael. Can you believe it? Bad enough to hear it from Catherine, but Emily has joined the crusade, too.
It's just terrible when a man can't give a suitor some grief in his own home." He shook his head, but he was laughing as he did. Cathy walked in and kissed my cheek looking like a dream in short shorts and a sleeveless tank top.
Her jutting nipples told me that she had omitted a bra from her wardrobe. I loaded her dress and small suitcase into the SUV and off we went. The apartment was almost en route so we stopped there and hung her dress in the closet rather than have it wrinkle lying in the back of my car.
We drove to a favorite deli for fried egg and bacon sandwiches with coffee and OJ and some sandwiches and sodas for our lunch. We ate in the car before heading out for our bait. On the way I told Cathy, "Open the glove box, will you please, and take out the paper in there. That's your registration for fishing. You have to enroll in the registry before fishing in New York. Don't ask me why—it's free--but it is a rule.
Also, the minimum size for fluke is 19 inches so don't be surprised if we don't catch anything to bring home. Your dad told me he'd like some if we catch any." I pulled into the bait store for two dozen killies, by far the best bait for fluke and some extra hooks.
Our next and final stop was the yacht club. I punched in my five-digit code for the locked security gate. We carried our supplies down the dock to my boat—a Grady White 230 center console with twin Honda 150's.
The boat was up on a hydraulic lift. "It's a lot safer up there, believe me. There's a big problem with stealing engines and other equipment from boats in the harbor even though we have 24-hour security. Each one of these is worth almost $12,000. I keep the rods and electronics in the locker." I pointed to the reinforced fiberglass box that was bolted to the dock adjacent to the slip. Once the key was into the control the lift lowered the boat into the water in seconds.
I handed Cathy into the boat and it took us less than ten minutes to load everything, including the inflatable PFD's for each of us.
I explained to Cathy that we both needed to wear the life preservers in case of an accident. It was very possible that we could be struck by another boat or even hit a submerged rock. These would inflate automatically as soon as they hit the water. I also told her these were the most comfortable and lightest of the alternatives. The final step was to take two ten pound bags of ice from the dockside cooler for the one on the boat.
I signed the ledger with the date and time, informed the yacht club dock master of our projected route and destination and we were ready. The engines started right up and we backed out into the harbor. We cruised along at a measly 10 mph until we were out into the breakwaters then I opened the engines up and we were on plane in seconds, cruising at more than 40 mph.
We were at the shoal in minutes. I netted two killies from the live well and ran the sharp hooks through their lower lips while I explained how we would fish—drift with sinkers on the bottom, lift occasionally to detect additional weight which would indicate that a fish was holding the bait, wait for a few seconds to give the fish the chance to swallow before setting the hook. "Whatever you do, don't drop the rod and reel over the side.
They're expensive—almost a thousand bucks each." I chuckled as Cathy nervously took her rod. I explained that we would only fish until around 1:00 in the afternoon. "These fish only bite two hours before or after high tide which is around eleven.
After that we'd just be wasting our time. We can go back to the apartment for a short nap and, no, we will not have sex then. After the ballet&hellip." Cathy just smiled and kissed me before returning to the fishing. "Are we having fun yet," she asked. "I'm about to," I replied. "I can feel something on my line.
I dropped it back for a few seconds before lifting again. The third lift told me that the fish was still there. I raised the rod forcefully to drive the sharp hook through the fish's jaw. My rod bent almost in two—a very good sign. I fought it for almost five minutes as the fish took line against the reel's drag several times.
I grabbed the net as I brought it to the boat. It was a big one, more than twenty inches, for sure. I dropped the net in front of the whopper and scooped it up. It measured 23.5 inches and weighed more than four pounds.
"That's one for your dad," I commented as I dropped it into the live well. That was our only bite on our first drift.
We reeled in and I ran the boat back to the other side of the shoal. We were just into the drift when Cathy exclaimed, "Oh…oh…I think my line is stuck." "Be careful, it's probably a fish." I coached her and she set the hook on the third lift just as I had.
She pulled the fish up with no trouble. Of course, it was a short—below legal limit. All the same I netted it and had her hold it for a photo before returning it to the water.
After that we were both silent as we concentrated on the fishing. We each caught a few more shorts, but nothing of real interest occurred until what I had declared would be our last drift. By now Cathy knew exactly what to do. She set the hook and watched amazed as her rod bent straight down into the water. The expression on her face was amazing—and funny!
I was pretty sure she had a big one so I broke out a fishing belt that could hold the rod's butt without hurting her abdomen or thigh and give her the leverage she'd need to land a big one.
I have to say; I've rarely seen someone work a fish so hard. I coached her and would have taken over if she asked, but she was determined—she was going to land this fish if it killed her.
It took almost ten minutes to lift the fish a total of about twenty feet. I first saw it about eight feet down and it was huge. I didn't think it would fit into the net; I pulled out the gaff. I only use it for really big fish because once you gaff a fish it's as good as dead. Cathy managed to get it to the boat; I leaned over and pulled up on the gaff's sharp steel hook. It drove through the fish's head and I pulled it quickly into the boat.
Cathy sank onto a seat exhausted. The fish measured at 25 inches and 8.4 pounds, the biggest fluke I'd ever seen. I dropped it into the live well and went forward to give Cathy a big hug and kiss. I was so proud of her. I reeled in my line, secured the hooks and we headed back to the harbor. We were stopped en route by the police who wanted to check on our registrations and any fish we had. One of the officers recognized me from the PBA lawsuit and we chatted amiably for several minutes before I pulled the two fish from the live well for their inspection and approval.
At the time I felt it was an inconvenience, but it turned out to be a life saver. I docked the boat, hosed it down and emptied it of rods and electronics.
I checked in with the dock master, ran my code through the gate and loaded the fish cooler into the back to my car. We stopped at the bait shop for an official weighing and some photos before proceeding to the apartment. I was surprised to find several police cars waiting there for us. "Mr. Kelly? Your wife has filed charges of assault and domestic violence against you; says you punched her in the face causing several lacerations and bruises." "When did this alleged violence occur?" "Sometime this morning, according to the report—let's see…sometime after eight this morning.
Her lawyer insisted we arrest you." "Okay," I reached into my wallet pulling out the charge receipts from the deli and bait shop. They showed the transaction times as 8:03 and 8:21 respectfully. I shared them with the officers. "If you check at the yacht club you'll see that I ran my code through the security gate about ten minutes later. The dock master will also have clocked our departure from the dock. I was stopped on the Sound about one by your harbor patrol officers.
One of them recognized me from the PBA lawsuit. Also, Ms. Wilson and I have been together since around seven this morning, returning to the yacht club dock around 1:45. You can check with the dock master who tracks all comings and goings. Kindly note my hands; see any scraped knuckles or swelling? I have no doubt she was punched. It wasn't me who did it, though." I explained about the impending divorce and the reasons why. They all agreed she was a fucking bitch.
I was allowed to go about my business pending their investigation. I knew how that would turn out. I had to agree—Eileen was being a fucking bitch, not to mention an idiot. Cathy and I had shown off our catch and now I made short work of filleting them and putting them in the refrigerator for her dad. There was only one thing I liked about this apartment—the bathroom.
There was a large Jacuzzi big enough for two and someday maybe&hellip. Today we needed the shower. It, too, was big enough for two. We showered together, sharing and playing with the soap and lemon juice I always used to remove the fishy odor from my hands.
I ran the frothy soap up and down Cathy's tight body and when I spent a little too much time soaping her ass crack she waggled her finger at me, telling me, "Naughty, naughty." I simply grinned and agreed. I was being very naughty. I had been forced to endure seeing her tight little ass and those long gorgeous legs all day.
I had told her "no sex," but my resistance was almost zero especially after following her naked form from bathroom to bedroom. Her ass slinked and swayed every time she took a step. It was hypnotic. We climbed into bed naked. I planned to sleep, but Cathy clearly had other ideas. After watching her tight ass and long legs all day I now had the pleasure of watching her in the nude. She climbed all over my body, smothering me with kisses and rubbing her incredibly soft smooth skin over mine.
"Not taking no for an answer, eh?" "Nope. You might as well give in. I'm not going to give you any peace until we've made love." "Uhh…do I have to? It's so much work and I'm tired." I tried to sound serious but I couldn't keep a straight face. I grabbed her and flipped her over, moving between her legs as we laughed.
My hard cock rubbed against her slit as I leaned down for a long sensual kiss. Our tongues dueled and danced in our passion and desire for each other. She pulled my head even closer as our lips mashed against each other. I couldn't take it any longer. I raised my hips and when I lowered them my rock hard cock slid easily into her wet hot cunt.
In seconds I was balls deep into her womanly core. I pulled back slowly and initiated an easy rhythm, but Cathy wanted more. "Fuck me harder, Michael. Will you do it harder? Faster? Pulease?" She drew it out for emphasis. I rammed my cock into her in response.
We moved at a frantic pace for several minutes. I couldn't tell you how long; time stood still for both of us. There was nothing that mattered other than each other.
In our state of heightened sexuality there was no way this was going to last very long. We exploded together, Cathy shaking as her orgasm ruled her body for several seconds, me blowing—erupting—in her most hospitably tight pussy.
I lowered myself onto her body then off to the side. I was gasping for breath as I asked, "Can we rest now?" She leaned up to kiss me and whispered, "Sure…and thanks, I needed that." We were both exhausted and fell asleep quickly.
We slept soundly until the alarm woke us at 4:30. I shaved and dressed in my tux while Cathy fixed her hair and makeup. I didn't see her until I was fully dressed and when I did I was amazed. She wore a full-length strapless form-fitting gown, dark green in color that showcased her tall slender body.
There was a vertical slit between her lovely breasts that ran almost to her navel and a long slit up one side of the skirt without which I doubted that she'd be able to walk. "You look amazing…incredible," I told her and I meant it.
I kissed her cheek and led her out the door. A stretch limo was there and I enjoyed the look on her face when Marco, our driver, opened the door for her. I handed her in and followed as Marco closed the door and drove away. "I have to hand it to you, Michael.
This is the most romantic date I've ever had. Even the fishing was kind of romantic in its own way—you know, the two of us alone…together." "Ah…but the best is yet to come, my dear." I opened a compartment behind the front seat, removing the chilled bottle of Dom Perignon and two iced flutes. I removed the cork with a loud "pop" and poured for my awestruck date.
"It will take us roughly an hour to reach the restaurant so we have plenty of time to make a dent in this bottle." Cathy laughed at my faux sophistication, but smiled sexily as we drank glass after glass of the wonderful champagne. We pulled up to Peter Luger's in Great Neck. It's one of New York City's finest steak houses—Long Island branch.
I got out first and helped Cathy from the limo. I suggested Marco get something to eat at my expense and led Cathy into the restaurant. "Ah, Mr. Kelly…so nice to see you again--please come in. We have your table ready, of course." The maitre d' took Cathy's wrap and led us to our seats. We enjoyed iceberg lettuce wedges with minced tomatoes, bacon, and bleu cheese crumbled over the wedge. Truthfully, we could have shared one. That's how big it was, but spending time on the water always made me ravenous and apparently Cathy was no different.
We had debated what to order as our entrée and, had we been dressed less formally, we would have taken the lobster at more than two pounds, settling instead for the steak for two--the restaurant's signature dish. We were stuffed by the time we resumed our journey to the Metropolitan Opera House for the ballet.
I could see heads turn as I escorted the beautiful Cathy Wilson to our seats. I asked Cathy if she was familiar with the ballet. When she shook her head I began to explain.
"Tchaikovsky wrote the ballet to tell the tale of Princess Odette who was turned into a swan by an evil sorcerer's curse. The original story of 'Swan Lake,'" I continued, "is obscure, but is believed to originate from either a Russian folk story called 'The White Duck' or a German story entitled 'The Stolen Veil.' If you don't care for the dancing you can close your eyes and just listen to the music which is nothing less than outstanding." She looked at me with what I assumed was admiration, but later learned was love.
I leaned over and kissed her cheek and relaxed awaiting the curtain. We went to the lobby during the intermission for more champagne and had returned to our seats when I exposed my true level of sophistication; I pulled a large box of Jujyfruits from my inside jacket pocket.
It was all Cathy could do not to break up. Instead, she held her hand out asking for a few. The ballet drew a standing ovation. Even Cathy applauded enthusiastically. She whispered to me on the way out, "Now comes the best part of any date with you—home and to bed, but don't worry—I'm not the least bit tired." I rolled my eyes, but smiled and pulled her close for a quick kiss that was hardly chaste.
I pulled out my cell and let Marco know we were ready.
He pulled up in front of the theater minutes later. We were on our way back to my temporary home. As expected, Marco had iced a new bottle of Dom. We had an extremely relaxed trip home. We were almost halfway when Cathy asked, "Did some of that music seem familiar to you?" "Sure…ever see 'Dracula,' the original with Bela Lugosi, or the original 'Mummy?' Both used music from the ballet and there are plenty of others, too like 'Funny Girl.' Every time it's used the Tchaikovsky family gets royalties—millions every year.
Just the performance of this ballet tonight is probably worth ten to twenty thousand dollars to them." "Is that true for every song?" "Yeah…unless the family dies out, then the song becomes public domain. Sometimes the rights to the song are sold like, for example, some of the Beatles' songs. I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight." "Oh. Michael, it was wonderful. The entire day was wonderful. I even liked the fishing. I hope you'll invite me again." "You have a standing invitation.
Whenever I go you can come with me, even if I'm not fishing. Sometimes I just like to go out after work with a sandwich or two and some sodas. It can be so peaceful and relaxing.
The work I do can be stressful." "Speaking of stress, I've done some preliminary tests on those implants you sent me.
I was surprised when I was able to break one at a much lower psi than I thought possible. I haven't figured out why yet, but I will." "That's interesting. I'll bet that has something to do with all the problems people have been having." "Maybe…I'm not sure and I won't be until I find out why it happened.
Can you send me some more? I like to have a lot of samples to make sure it wasn't a fluke. Oops, I think that was a lame joke." I poured more champagne and our talk turned back to the ballet. Soon we were back to the apartment.
I thanked Marco and tipped him generously before leading Cathy to my new home. I was surprised when my cell rang. It was the police. "Don't tell me Eileen has made another complaint against me." "No, it's not that. We looked at your alibi and everything checked out. When we confronted your wife she broke down and admitted she made the whole thing up to get some leverage on you. She inflicted the wounds on herself—banging her face into a corner of her dresser.
We're going to charge her with making a false report." "Can you hold off on that for a while…like a month, or so?" I explained why and he said it was unusual, but for me he'd do it.
It always pays to have friends in the right places. I had handled the PBA's lawsuit for nothing and I had received nothing but good things in return ever since. I opened the door for Cathy and pulled her into a close embrace and a long kiss.
I whispered when I broke it, "You've looked good enough to eat all day." "Funny, I thought the same about you…and that's a great idea. Can we get out of these clothes?" I took her hand and led her quickly to the bedroom where I helped her out of her dress.
We hung it carefully in the closet before I excused myself to the bathroom. I removed my tux, hung it away and surprised Cathy by leading her, the two of us naked, into the bathroom. The Jacuzzi was almost filled when we got there.
Cathy shook her head and laughed. "I can't think of anything remotely more romantic than tonight and this caps it perfectly." I helped her into the tub and turned it on when I was seated. The tub was thermostatically controlled; I had set the water temperature for 102 degrees—not as hot as most hot tubs one would find at a hotel, but hot enough to be completely relaxing.
Cathy began on the other end of the six-foot tub but came to me almost immediately, sitting with her back against my chest. She turned her head and we kissed—a wet bubbly, but passionate kiss.
It was definitely a lovers' kiss--soft, but demanding. Our tongues twisted around each other as the bubbles tickled and exploded against our skin. We broke the kiss and she sat back against me. I kissed her cheek and nibbled her ear lobe eliciting a giggle from her lips. We were silent for almost five minutes. "Okay, Michael, this was fun, but I need something else now." I helped her out and handed her a towel as I turned the spa off and drained the water.
Cathy was already in the bedroom by the time I had dried my body. She had pulled the blanket down and was reclining in a sexy pose on the sheet. A waggle of her finger invited me to join her. I had just reclined on the bed when she scrambled between my legs.
I gave her a bemused look just before she spoke, "You know, Michael, I'm not usually like this. Some of my dates have described me as a 'cold fish,' but with you something's different. It all seems so right with you. It never felt that way before." "Other than the obvious benefits, I'm glad…really glad. I love being with you. Even if we'd never made love I'd feel the same way, not that I'm turning any of this down.
I love this, too." "I hope you'll feel the same way about this." She leaned down and kissed my cock. The reddish purple head twitched in response. I was sure she could see the pulsing arteries and feel the heat she was creating.
Her tongue wrapped around my shaft and slid up and down several times. She kissed it again, smiled at me, and I watched my cock disappear into her mouth. She moved back up, but so slowly that it drove me crazy with lust. "Cathy! Wait…please. This is wonderful, but I need to do you, too. Turn around, please…let me taste you." I was frantic in my pleading. Cathy may have been many things, but she wasn't cruel and she was just as horny as I was.
She kissed my cock again and climbed over my body, placing her moist hot cunt over my chin. She returned her attentions to my cock as I began my attack on her pussy.
Rarely had I eaten Eileen's pussy—I hated the sensation of her hairs in my mouth and between my teeth. Cathy had a nice trimmed landing strip over hers. I couldn't wait to sample her wares. I began by kissing her silky thighs—light, tender kisses, my lips barely touching her skin.
I saw and felt her shudder at my touch—good! I wanted this to be a memorable experience and one she'd want me to repeat many times.
I ran my nose up and down and all around her sensitive labia. I know that most guys ignore them, going right for the woman's canal or clit. What a waste. After my nose I gently blew on these sensitive tissues causing Cathy to groan aloud. "Damn, Michael, what the hell are you doing to me? I am so hot I think I'm going to rape you." "Relax darling…I'm just getting started. There's a lot more to come…pun definitely intended." "Oh, God…I've never felt like this and you haven't even gotten to&hellip." "Don't worry, I'll get there…eventually and when I do&hellip." I returned to my task, letting Cathy draw her own conclusions.
I continued blowing on her labia, but added light touches of my tongue. It was fun watching and feeling her squirm on my body. I wrapped my mouth over her sweet cunt and sucked for all I was worth.
Blood flowed into her labia and clit and my tongue found her tunnel at last. My tongue curled as I fucked her with it, contacting her G-spot every time. Cathy's groans evolved into wails—long unintelligible and incoherent mumblings—as I drove her wild. I was a sensational cunt licker, always had been. I was just a little out of practice. Cathy had forgotten all about my cock as she was in sensory overload from my tongue and nose and lips.
Finally, after more than fifteen minutes I took her clit between my teeth. My technique here could best be described as gnawing. I massaged her swollen button with my teeth.
It had always worked in the past and it worked now. Cathy screamed at the top of her lungs for several seconds as it hit her hard. It was all I could do to hold her steady. I turned her around once she had settled down a bit. Between gasps she asked, "What…a…bout…you?" "Tomorrow or later if we wake up or whenever.
I'm not counting. I think we need to sleep." I would have waited for Cathy to respond, but she was already deeply asleep. CHAPTER 7 I opened my eyes to find daylight. The clock told me it was almost 8:00. Cathy was rolled up into a little ball, her back and ass facing me. She looked so peaceful lying there next to me.
I reached down, giving her gorgeous ass a little peck before rising and walking to the kitchen. I had been there less than ten minutes when I heard her pad to the kitchen. She stepped behind me, wrapped her arms around my mid-section, pushed her hard nipples into my back, and kissed my neck. "Hmmm…nice," I whispered. "Coffee?" "Please." She took the steaming mug and wandered to the table where she had left her purse the day before, not wanting to be encumbered by it at the ballet where she used one of those tiny things instead.
She turned her phone on and checked her emails. "Michael…listen to this. It's from Chad, my lab tech, 'C, ran some tests on those dental implants. Found something interesting when I looked under the scope—tiny cracks or lines, reddish brown. Any ideas what that means? Chad.' I do have an idea what it means and it helps to explain my earlier findings.
Can we go to my office?" I agreed, suggesting we stop by her parents' home to drop off her dress and the fish before grabbing a quick deli breakfast. I bagged the fish using the vacuum sealing machine and off we went. I showed her dad the photos of Cathy's prowess while she and Emily put her dress and the fish fillets away. "I'm glad to have the opportunity to speak with you, Michael," he began. "I'm concerned at the speed with which your relationship is progressing.
I don't want Catherine to he hurt." "Neither do I, sir. I have the greatest respect for her and it goes without saying that I think she's fantastic. Please believe me when I tell you that my intentions are strictly honorable." Cathy and her mom returned at that very instant, ending our discussion prematurely.
None the less, Christopher rose and patted my shoulder—a sign that he understood and accepted what I had told him. Cathy and I took our leave and I drove straight to her office, too excited to eat. "I have some ideas, Michael, but I want to take a look for myself." She placed one of the implants between two small pieces of wood to hold it securely and tightened the tiny vise.
"Ah, I see what Chad was referring to." She stepped aside so I could take a quick look. She had a cabinet open and was removing several implements by the time I looked up. "Do you know what density is, Michael?" "Something to do with how closely molecules are packed?" "Yes, it's defined as mass per volume.
Every material has a different density. It's one of the best ways to identify a substance, even in the field with only the simplest tools." She removed the implant from the vise and placed it onto a digital scale, noting the weight on a sheet of paper.
Then she put about fifteen milliliters of water into a small graduated cylinder. She noted the increase in the water level once she had dropped the implant in. "That's the volume; now all I have to do is divide. That's interesting. The density of steel is roughly 8 grams/cubic centimeter; titanium is about 4.5. This has a density of 7.9. It's supposed to be 100 percent titanium, but it's not. Let's try to cut it." Cathy moved to a small metal cutting band saw and clamped the implant in place before lowering the blade.
Three minutes later we had our answer. Rather than being composed of titanium, this implant was nothing more than cheap steel covered with a plating of titanium. "Here's what I think, Michael—when subjected to extremes of heat and cold, like eating ice cream or drinking coffee these implants were forced to expand and contract.
However, they will expand and contract at different rates. That difference caused the cracks making the surface of the steel rust and hold minute pieces of food which decayed and caused the illnesses. I'll bet that's what caused them to come loose, too. Titanium is very expensive and extremely difficult to work with. Steel is just the opposite. This is fraud—a means of cheating the public to make some extra money." I nodded; I had to agree. Now it was up to me to see that the manufacturer was made to pay.
But, first I had to decide on a strategy. I kissed Cathy as we closed the office. It was only a short drive to a diner where we finally filled our stomachs. I spent the rest of the day developing my plans—how to expose the fraud and win for my clients. CHAPTER 8 I made several phone calls before court convened and presented the judge with a discovery motion.
"I need several hundred implants for examination and testing, your honor." "That's a ridiculous request," objected my adversary. "I think that some implants would be reasonable," commented the judge, "but not two hundred.
I'll order fifty. You'll have to get by with them." "Very well, your honor," I replied seemingly dejected, but actually getting exactly what I had hoped for. They were promised within 48 hours. They were delivered the following afternoon and forwarded to an independent lab that Cathy had suggested. I couldn't use Cathy as much as I wanted to. Our involvement would stink of conflict of interest and could sink the entire case.
The following day a second box, ordered by my dentist, was also delivered for testing. I was promised results within a week's time. I had plenty of other witnesses to examine over the interim. Cathy joined me in court on Wednesday morning the following week as I opened testimony of my dentist.
I asked all the preliminary questions one learns about in Law 101. Opposing counsel graciously stipulated to all of Dr.
Caplan's credentials. I wondered at the time how gracious he would be when I had his client by the balls.
I halted direct examination after asking about ordering fifty implants from the company and forwarding them to Leonard Laboratories. Opposing counsel declined to cross-examine, a wise move in my opinion.
He had nothing to gain. Now I called Dr. Nathan Leonard, the CEO of Leonard Laboratories. I asked him about receiving the two shipments of implants.
I began with those received directly from the manufacturer. Not surprisingly, they were perfect—pure titanium alloy, exactly as I had anticipated. It was time to drive my dagger deep into their hearts. I asked about the second shipment. "Not perfect, at all, "Dr. Leonard replied, "In fact, not even titanium." This answer was met with a strenuous objection from defense counsel. Primarily, he stated that some subterfuge had occurred with the shipment—that the shipment had been tampered with, exchanged with shoddy goods, and threatened to counter-sue for slander and libel.
"Your honor," I began calmly. "I don't blame counsel for his objections. I would do the same if my client were looking at allegations and proof of fraud designed to cheat an unsuspecting public and expose them to life threatening disease and injury." Opposing counsel jumped out of his seat screaming at me and demanding that I be censured for misconduct.
I spoke again once order was restored. "Your honor, I have every intention of proving everything I have said if you will give me," I pretended to check my watch, "fifteen minutes." "Very well, Mr. Kelly…you may proceed—objection overruled." I ran Dr. Leonard through the entire sequence, from the receipt of the sealed box from the manufacturer. "I had my representative in Dr. Caplan's office to take the shipment directly from FedEx," he testified.
"I opened both shipments myself and counted the number of implants supplied. All of the implants were kept in my safe when not examined to ensure the integrity of the tests." He went on to summarize all the tests he had conducted. He finished just before the fifteen minutes were up. "Here is a strip of hermetically sealed implants from the manufacturer—the ones you requested directly from the defense.
You can see they are marked "A." Please note that there is no response from this magnet. Over here is the second shipment, marked "B," he continued. "Please note that these are magnetic." He held up the strip of ten with the magnet. I saw opposing counsel cringe and the CEO had his head in his hands. "That's because they are primarily cheap steel, not even stainless, with the thinnest possible plating of titanium alloy." "May we please ask for a brief recess, your honor?" It was defense counsel speaking.
"Very well…it is almost time for lunch. We will reconvene at two o'clock. He pounded the gavel and left. It was less than a minute later that I was asked to conference with the defense. "We'll give you a hundred million and no admission of guilt or responsibility." I laughed. "Not even in the same neighborhood, Stan…if fact, not even close. Three hundred and fifty million, an agreement to cease manufacture and recall of the steel implants, and then you can have the no admission clause." "Two hundred and fifty." "Three hundred and fifty or I'm out of here and taking my girl friend to lunch." "Deal," the CEO agreed.
"Good, here is the paperwork. Sign and we can all go for lunch." "Pretty cocky aren't you, Michael?" "I knew the cards I held, Stan. I'll reserve my opinion of your client's business practices. I won't say or do anything, but I can't be held responsible for the judge's actions." I signed for the plaintiffs, had one of the secretaries from the court notarize the documents, gave them a set of copies, and returned to court with twenty minutes left on the clock before the judge called us back into session.
"Your honor, we have a settlement," I announced, much to the amazement of the spectators, many of which were my clients. I handed a set of documents to the clerk who handed them to his honor. He read for almost ten minutes.
"Very well, I order defendant to pay the sum stipulated within thirty days. Mr. Kelly, you will provide this court with the necessary documentation for the distribution to the plaintiffs.
I assume you will take the customary thirty-five percent." "No, your honor; my father will probably kill me, but I will take ten percent plus expenses. These people have suffered enough." His honor simply nodded, struck the gavel, and rose to leave. I received congratulations from those present, explaining that we would meet in our offices tomorrow morning to explain the distribution.
I waved good-bye and looked for Cathy. To my surprise she wasn't there. She wasn't anywhere in the courthouse. I ran to my car and drove to her office. She wasn't there, either. I phoned her cell, but there was no answer. Having no other choice, I reluctantly tried her house. She was there, thank God. Emily answered the door.
"She got here about an hour ago and she's been crying ever since. Did you have an argument?" "No, I haven't had a chance to speak with her all day. I've been tied up settling the suit." I walked in and sat next to her. "Cathy…why…why are you crying?" "You finished the case so I assume we are finished, too. I'll send you a bill tomorrow." "I hope you do send me a bill, but you'll have to knock me unconscious to get away from me.
I've been doing a lot of thinking, too." She cried even harder. "I can't decide…Catherine Kelly or Cathy Kelly?" "What? What did you say, Michael?" She stopped to blow her nose. "I was wondering what you liked better…Catherine Kelly or Cathy Kelly?" I brushed the tears from her cheeks before placing a gentle kiss.
She reached around me and held me close. I pulled her even closer. "I love you, Cathy…more than I've ever loved anyone…more than I ever dreamed I could love anyone. I'll always love you." "For God's sake…say 'yes,' will you?" "Geez, Mom, didn't your parents ever teach you not to eavesdrop?" "You're our daughter…it doesn't count." It was her dad this time. "I love you more," was her response. I laughed and kissed her cheek again.
"Not possible, but also not worth arguing about. What say we call it a draw?" Cathy pulled back a bit before mashing her lips against mine.
We kissed for several minutes until our faces were wet with spit. I hugged her again once we broke it. "Now all I have to do is get rid of my bitch wife." Her parents rushed in to hug and kiss us their congratulations. CHAPTER 9 I had my first meeting with Eileen and her attorney--Sheila von Staal--a woman I knew well to have as much integrity as I had. Although she was an excellent attorney I thought she was a poor choice for that reason. The first discussion was the house. They had no choice but to concede that it was mine.
I wanted Eileen out in thirty days. Of course, she demanded fifty percent of the remaining assets. That's when I brought out the cock cage and Steve produced the lab report as well as a copy of Eileen's note—the one in which she admitted placing that monstrosity on my body. Sheila looked at everything for more than a minute. It was obvious that Eileen had omitted a few details about our sudden separation. Worse, Sheila recognized the legal implications for her client.
Things only got worse when I reminded them of Eileen's accusations of spousal abuse and the police's reactions. Filing a false report is serious, almost always resulting in jail time. "Steve…Michael, may I have a few minutes to caucus with my client?" Steve and I rose and left the room, returning fifteen minutes later.
I could see that Eileen was pissed, but Sheila spoke calmly, "How much to make the charges go away?" Steve looked to me for the reply, "Ten percent. I'm in a generous mood; I want this over with." "Yeah," Eileen blurted out, "so you can marry that tramp!" "It is true that I want to remarry, Eileen, but her worst day is better than your best.
She has a prestigious occupation and a high income; you have never worked a day in your life. She is also trustworthy, while you're obviously not. Need I continue?" "No…you bastard; I gave you the best years of my life, and for what?" Now I was thrilled that I had selected Steve to represent me. One meeting like this was about my limit, so I spoke clearly and calmly," Eileen, I don't recall giving you my worst years.
I was thrilled with you until you betrayed me—my trust—to try to make me your slave. It wasn't enough that I worked sixty to seventy hours a week and gave you a lifestyle you never dreamed of when you were a kid growing up. I loved you and was always faithful, but apparently that wasn't enough either. You brought this on yourself. I'd like to say that I'm sorry, but I'm not. I met someone who is everything you're not and, truthfully, I owe it all to you.
That's why I'm willing to give you forty percent instead of twenty-five. Now, excuse me." I rose and left, leaving the remaining negotiations to Steve and Sheila. One month later I was ready to move back into my house—our house, the one I'd share, effective immediately, with Cathy. I unlocked the door and turned off the alarm. That's when I heard Cathy shriek. I saw why when I turned around. The entire living room was covered in red paint; it had been thrown everywhere, but first every piece of furniture had been slashed, the stuffing strewn about.
The tables and lamps had been smashed. I pulled Cathy out, preserving the scene for the police. I called them with my cell and stood outside the door awaiting their arrival. I was surprised to hear our neighbor, Mrs. Douglas, "I heard the racket, Michael. She was berserk—screaming, and swearing at the top of her lungs. I was worried for her…and for you." "I'd appreciate it if you'd stick around for the police, Mrs. Douglas." "Oh, I don't want to get involved, Michael." "You already are, Mrs.
Douglas…you already are." I could hear the sirens approach. I used the time to call Sheila. "Sheila, you need to find your client.
She destroyed the house. I'm pressing charges for this and everything else. The terms were that she turn over the house in the same condition it was in when I left. One of our neighbors saw and heard her do it. I'll survive, but I doubt that she will. Find her, Sheila, before the police do." I hung up and turned to talk to the police. The house was stripped to the frame, refinished, and refurnished at a cost of more than $400,000.
I sued Eileen and won the full amount, the total to be deducted from the divorce settlement. She'd still have more than a million dollars, but she'd have to wait a while to be able to use it. The combined sentences for her numerous misdemeanors and felonies was pled down to a minimum of eighteen months. Cathy and I moved in less than six months prior to her release. We were married less than a week after the divorce was finalized.
It was a big Irish wedding with plenty of the best booze and food. Personally, I would have been happy with the tiniest of weddings, but her mom and dad only had the one child. They were entitled to spoil her. We had been married a year when we invited them to dinner in our "new" house. I was cutting the homemade pie for dessert when Cathy made our announcement, "How'd you like to go back to work, Dad?
It seems that I'll need some time off pretty soon. I'm pregnant and my doctor thinks it'll be twins." Christopher beamed as he replied, "I've been hoping for exactly that for too long. It'll be good to get away from your mother, too. She works me harder than any of our clients ever did." He rose from his seat to hug and kiss Cathy while my mother in law hugged and kissed me.
We finished with a group hug, broken only when Cathy pulled away to whisper in my ear, "I want a really big family, darling." I pulled back just a bit, smiled, and leaned back for a wonderful deep kiss.
What better way to agree completely? I was floating on air for the next two weeks, right up until I had a phone call from Warden Jonas of the County Jail. "Hi Michael," he began. "I'm afraid I have some disturbing information for you." "Good morning, Bill. What's up?" "I'm sure you know that there are always inmates trying to curry favor. I was approached yesterday by two of Eileen's cellmates. Seems she's been shooting her mouth off about getting even with you.
What the hell you ever did is a mystery to me, but that's typical of too many of our inmates. Probably one of the reasons we get so many repeat customers—nobody is ever responsible for their actions.
I wanted you to know. Forewarned is forearmed, as they say." "Thanks, Bill; I appreciate the head's up." We said our good-byes and hung up. I walked up the hall to see my dad. I explained about the phone call. "You'll have to get Cathy out of the house and, preferably out of town until this is straightened out. I think her parents should go with her. I'd suggest you go, also, but I doubt you'd listen. Cathy is obviously much smarter than you are." "I'm going down to Town Hall, Dad.
I'd like to discuss this with Chief Piersall." Ten minutes later I sat in Jim's office.
"I'm not surprised to see you, Michael. Warden Jonas called me after he spoke to you. I agree that you ought to send your wife and her family out of town. I'm going to put your ex under surveillance. I'll have plenty of volunteers from the off-duty officers. We cops have long memories, Michael." I thanked the chief for his help and drove to Cathy's office. I met with her and her dad, explaining once again about Eileen's threats.
They agreed to leave town for a few days, but Cathy wanted me to go with her. "I can't, darling. I need to be the bait for the trap. Chief Piersall says he'll always have two men on me so I'll be covered.
If I'm not here she'll just wait for me to come back. It's better if we deal with this up front and get rid of her ASAP rather than have to wait with a sword over our heads." Cathy was reluctant, but did eventually agree, but only after making me promise to be extra careful. The day for Eileen's release arrived. She was one of almost a dozen inmates who had finished their time that morning, three of whom were undercover police officers assigned to shadow her.
All three were from the state police and all were unknown in this area, supposedly transfers from one of the state prisons brought to our area for release. It's almost thirty miles from the county center to our town on the north shore of Suffolk County, Long Island. There are always loafers at the bus station, but today several were members of the force disguised as bums or winos or other lowlifes.
They were shooed away by uniformed officers. Everything appeared normal. Eileen's first stop was a hardware store where she bought several two-gallon gas cans. She walked to a nearby gas station where they were filled.
Clearly, she was targeting something or someone—no doubt me. Unfortunately, the police could do nothing at this point—there's no law against buying or possessing gasoline. I went about my normal activities, being careful not to lose my two tails—officers I knew from the PBA lawsuit, but who would be unknown to Eileen. I half expected Eileen to strike that first day, but even though I made myself visible on the street several times nothing happened.
I went home around seven to my empty house, already missing Cathy terribly. We talked on the phone for almost an hour. She was worried, but I assured her that I was safe. If only I was as sure as I had made out to her. I slept fitfully, but rose with the dawn and was off to work again. I parked in the lot and was just locking the door when I heard her about fifteen feet behind me. "Hello, Michael." "Oh, hello, Eileen," I said as I tried to act surprised. I saw the gas cans open at her feet.
"Don't do it, Eileen. You can't get away with it." "Who says I want to get away? You destroyed my life. I have no reason to go on," she continued using logic that no one in their right mind could possibly believe. That's when I saw her tip one of the cans with her foot and I realized what she was going to do. Even as the deadly liquid poured in my direction I dropped my briefcase and dove to her, grabbing her hand before she had the chance to strike the lighter.
Three officers were on us in a flash, helping me to my feet and handcuffing Eileen. The fire department was called to address the problem of the spilled gas.
My clothes were soaked in fuel and were removed for my safety. I stood in the street wrapped only in a blanket. Her plans were clear—she was going to get even with me in a way only her demented mind could conceive. Eileen was going to kill herself in front of me and possibly get me, too with either fire spread by the spilled gasoline or the other can exploding and dousing me with burning fuel.
She was sick, that was certain, but was she criminally insane? To qualify one could not know the difference between right and wrong at the time of the act, so probably not. Her words to me showed that not to be the case. Once everything was sorted out she was charged with attempted murder, attempted arson, and several other felonies and misdemeanors related to her violation of her probation and property damage involving the twenty or more cars in the parking lot as well as the potential danger to passers-by and nearby buildings.
She was remanded to the county hospital for evaluation. Cathy and her parents returned home that evening, none too soon as far as I was concerned. I had taken the day off, shaken by Eileen's actions as well as mine.
I had risked my life to save that of someone who clearly hated me. I had to listen to my father's searing criticism, but that was nothing compared to the tongue-lashing from my wife who berated me for breaking my promise to be extra careful. I felt like an idiot, but Cathy, seeing my remorse, came to me out of her love and took me to bed. I spent the night snuggling up against that perfect ass, kissing her, and feeling our unborn twins move and kick.
I must have told her a hundred times how much I loved her and how lucky I was to have her. I took the rest of the week off from work and laying low, avoiding the press and the unwanted publicity. Unfortunately, the publicity was unavoidable so I decided to tackle it head on the following Monday morning. Cathy and I met with the press and local TV channels in our conference room.
I thought we were finished when Dad rushed in and handed me a sheet of paper. I was saddened when I read it. "I have one final comment and then we're done here. I've just learned that my ex-wife has taken her life.
Somehow she managed to get her hands on a syringe and pumped several cubic centimeters of air into her veins. The efforts of the doctors were in vain as she apparently died of an embolism when the air bubbles reached her heart.
We obviously had our problems, but there was a time when I loved her very much." Cathy took my hand and we left, going to my office where I sat and cried. I no longer loved Eileen, but I didn't hate her. I had hoped she would be able to move on with her life, but it was not to be. I sat there for almost an hour until Cathy came and sat in my lap. She held my head and kissed me. "Michael, you did all you could. None of this is your fault. You need to put it behind you. Eileen didn't need you, but I do and I'm going to need you for the rest of our lives.
I think I know exactly what you need. C'mon, we're going home." Cathy was right. She knew exactly what I needed. I sat in the boat while she piloted us through the harbor. We weren't fishing, although that would have been great, too. We had our dinner and a supply of beer and soda. She stopped the boat about four hundred yards west of the inlet and anchored in fifteen feet of water.
We lay on the front raised deck and relaxed in the sun. Cathy handed me the sunscreen and told me, "Please put this on me and put your hands where they don't belong. When you're done with that, please put your cock where it does belong." I laughed…we laughed…and we moved on.
We had everything we could want, a wealth of riches, and each other. What else was there?