Fifty Three

Surveillance checks in the second day with preliminaries. Photos and video of Professor Taylor, and his companion, Trey Faulkner. Also video of Detective Matheson fronting Taylor in an Albertson’s supermarket lot. The cop is tapping Taylor’s chest with a pointed finger, the professor looks agitated. Hard to tell if he’s upset at being harassed or just scared.
Janah, “Ah, interesting, check it, the professor’s partner looks almost like a boy toy.”
“Sheesh, he’s seriously younger, what, twenty two? Looks buff.”
“According to Surveillance he’s an aerobics instructor and personal trainer at one of the gym chains.
I suppose anything can happen, but this guy with a middle aged frumpy psychology prof? Come on, Trey have daddy issues? And look at Taylor’s house, it’s three beds at least, maybe four, in a gated community.”
“Maybe they should call prisons gated communities, remove the stigma. Prisoners could be guests at Walledup Estates, housed in a lovely desert setting, complete with spa, social activities, recreation and fine dining. Think of what it would do for morale.”
“Poor people would be committing crimes to get in.”
“Poor people get in even when they don’t commit crimes.”
“True, so where was I? Ah, Taylor drives an older Volvo, but boy toy drives a spanking new BMW 328i, not the top of the line but a forty grand set of wheels nonetheless. His attachment to the professor is clearing up.”
“Let’s get Daria to check out Taylor’s finances. He must have other resources besides a professor’s salary.”
“He must have reasons to keep a low profile around colleagues and campus. Thus the older car and downscale wardrobe.”
“Daria, dig into Professor Derek Taylor, 1215 Carrington Court, Mesa. We’re curious about his finances.”
I see through her eyes, she’s in our hangar sized garage assembling something with Eloise, “Da, okay.”
“What are you working on?”
“Rebuild kart engine, Eloise said seal was going bad, exhaust did not smell right, no big deal.”

Eloise can smell when electronics are about to malfunction, which comes in handy when you have as many devices as we do. I didn’t know it extended to mechanical things, like engines, guess there’s no reason it wouldn’t.
“Daria and Eloise are working on a kart, Eloise said one of them didn’t smell right.”
Janah, “You can smell sick people, Eloise smells sick machines.”
“And Velvet Revolver says she builds quick machines.”
“The connections you make are bizarre.”
Sloane and Cassandra appear at the back patio door in full dirt bike regalia, “Sheesh, you guys are a mess.”
“Mom, we set a new course record.”
“I thought it was about jumps, not speed.”
“That’s what I mean, Cassie made a thirty yarder off the big hill, look,” she pulls out her phone, I watch my other daughter sail off the hilltop, fly along in a arch and bump down a good stretch later.
I smile, “Super good Cassie, we need to nickname you Evel.”
It isn’t a world class pro achievement, but for a fifteen year old who only rides a few times a year, it’s rather amazing.
“Shed the clothes by the pool shower, I’ll get them later. If fact. Wash off with them on first, too crummy to go straight in the washer.”
They race off to the outdoor showers, good thing they wear helmets, at least their hair isn’t encrusted with dirt.
Amaya comes in the kitchen, “Coffee, a big one.”
“Just making a pot, take a look at Cassie’s new record jump.”
“Record…” she’s looking at the video, “Christ Daph, she’s going to cream herself one day. Can you not put a governor on her bike?”
“We don’t do limitations.”
“So if her bike could do a hundred, that is fine with you?”
“We don’t do unreasonable limitation, the bike can’t do a hundred anyway.”
Sloane and Cass come wrapped in mega towels, “the clothes are by the laundry room door.”
Amaya, “Dry your hair trannie, Cass, come along, I shall make you stunning. Daphne, may I impose and ask for a coffee delivery to Cassandra’s room?”
“Up in a bit.”
Coffee’s just brewed, Nikko comes in, “Thought I smelled cooking caffeine, just in time, Chloe and I are going to do kata in fifteen.”
I take a cup to Amaya, hair dryer screaming, Cassie’s hair is the longest in the family, past the middle of her back.
“Such luxurious hair, takes forever to dry, but she shimmers when it is done,” Amaya kisses her cheek, “you are splendid, even if you are insane.”
Cass, “I am Evil.”
Amaya looks at me, eyes narrowed, “This is your doing, you are a horrid excuse for a mother.”
“No doubt, I’ll leave her social graces in your hands, have to go, Dasha will be tapping me for a dinner plan in five…four…three…two…”
“Dahfoney, you will come to keechen and make up dinner idea.”
“One second off, must be slipping.”
Amaya, “Slip away from here anyway, before you irreparably damage the precious child.”
The rest of my world is around the table drinking coffee and passing around the video.
Danika, “Crazy fearless, her mom must be a Shaolin priest.”
“Amaya thinks I’m Satan mom.”
Nikko, “That too, but I’m warming to Evel, after Sloane explained the reference.”
“Evel Knievil, world’s foremost motorcycle daredevil.”
“He was before you were born.”
“Janah came across YouTube videos.”
Sloane, “Mom showed them to me when I started the bikes. I saw a bunch of his crashes, it kept me from going stupid. We only do dirt here, he smashed at high speed on concrete. Broke almost every bone in his body over the years.”
Zi, “What people will do for an adrenaline rush.”
“Amaya thought e-v-i-l, not e-v-e-l, Cassie has no idea of either.”
Amaya comes down with Cassandra in tow, “It does not matter, it is Daphne that is evil.”
Cass looks positively angelic, long soft hair, rich ash blond perfectly straight, curve hugging chemise and barefoot.
Cassie sits and turns to Oceane, “I am Evil.”
Amaya groans.
Sloane, “Amaya, by tea time she won’t remember Evel.”
“She better not, and nobody is to address her that way…ever, and forever after that.”
Oceane feeds her a ginger snap and shares her Coke Zero, Sloane is sitting next to Oceane. I’m picking up dishes. When I pass them, I see Oceane’s hand on the inside of Sloane’s thigh. There’s a fair sized bulge in her panties. Cassie and Oceane go up the steps for a nap. Sloane heads up a few minutes later.

Fifty Four

The bike clothes are dry, I take them upstairs, drop off Sloane’s in her room, then to Cassie’s. Her door is closed, I peek in, nobody home, I go in to put away her things. Her room connects to Oceane’s, the door is open just a bit.
Oceane is kneeling beside her bed, her head between Cassie’s slim legs. Sloane stands next to the bed, her cock in Cassie’s mouth.
No wonder she isn’t doing transition surgery.
Sloane looks up to the opposite wall mirror, she spots me doing my voyeur thing, smiles and winks. My hand slips inside my panties.
Oceane raises her head, Sloane shifts and the cock goes in her mouth, then she returns to licking Cassie. Sloane gets herself off and the creamy part coats Cassie’s abdomen right at the spot Oceane is working on. Cassie orgasms while Oceane licks up the jizz. Sloane gives herself a squeeze, Cass licks the remainder from the tip of her cock. Sloane comes to the door stroking her cock while I stare at it, I climax.
She smiles, opens the door wide, Cassie is reciprocating Oceane’s attentions.
“Hot huh?”
I’m still vibing, “Sizzling.”
She kisses me, “I like watching you,” she kisses me again, longer.
Janah, “I’m steaming, get your horrible self down here and service me.”
“I didn’t even notice you in my head.”
“You were occupied.”

I kiss Sloane again, my hands slip over her smooth butt. She takes one and circles my fingers around her half hard shaft. I’ve never touched a dick, it feels strange, warm and nice.
I leave and go to our room, Janah’s conveniently nude, head on her pillow, half kneeling, sleek yoga tush over her arched back.
Janah, “Start there, after I analgasm, you can get to the other side.”
I take my sweet time on her sweet tush, or try to, she’s already in high stim and it’s only a minute until she’s quivering.
“Ahhh, I was about to explode,” she rolls over, “this might not take much longer.”
I get busy, she’s right, it doesn’t, the two minute warning has already passed. It’s okay, after a short break, I’m going to do her all over again.
We’re lying in post o-glow, Janah, “Sloane teasing you?”
“I’ve never felt a cock, I mean, it’s skin, but it was different.”
Janah, “I surprised myself when I went down on Sloane, I like it occasionally, start to creamy finish. And she fucks me like a champ. But unless another cute smooth trannie comes along, it’s my one and only.”
“Is teasing with an adopted daughter incest?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. And Sloane’s play pals are limited to two regular and one part time, they’re on the pill, Sloane does me with a condom, always. I have zero desire to get pregnant, Sloane and Amaya made damn sure the girls take the pills.”
“I read they aren’t a hundred percent effective, and condoms break.”
“Then we go to the next step, immediate abortion, no twelve week dithering. We test positive, we abort, we are not baby making machines. I don’t give a damn about evolution or my genes demanding replication.”
“I didn’t have any impulse for sex with her, it was the moment, watching them, Sloane watching me self stim, voyeuristic exhibitionism. I get myself off for our girls all the time, their semi-private porn show.”
“We like to watch you, you do yourself so sensually, it’s quite erotic. Sarah’s good at it too. Maybe we should have a double feature, no, that’s not right, a split screen, both of you enjoy yourselves for our viewing pleasure. I’m sure an minor orgy will ensue as a consequence.”
“Cool, Sarah will love the idea, I’ll mention it when they come, she’ll probably come when I mention it.”
Janah giggles, “You are bizarre, lay down, you have something I crave.”
We’re out of the shower, my co-dinner conspirator is in my head, “Dahfoney, Chloe ees already make tea, enough sex for you, come for tea, then we will feex dinner.”
“Dasha says I’ve had enough sex.”
Janah, “Sure, until she wants you, or her sister, or both.”
“Hmmm.”
“Go, I want tea, and a snack.”
Dasha has cut fruit, cheeses and a variety of crackers on trays.
“Thank you Dasha, I am starving.”
“Do not go anyway overboard Janah, we will haf black bean zoup wiz sour crim, meatloaf wiz mashed, brown gravy, green beans and cornbread. Also three layer devil food cake wiz marshmallow crim between and on top.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Make cake I just promise Janah.”
Oh, well, best get busy, the cake layers have to cool and go in the fridge or it’s impossible to get the marshmallow cream to spread evenly. Then back in the fridge to set the marshmallow. Take it out a half hour before serving to let it get to room temp.
“Anything else?”
“Nyet, green beans haf already cook all day, ham in one, vegetarian the other. Black bean zoup ees only to heat, meatloaf goes een oven een thirty minute, I will make cornbread when we put meatloaf in.”
“Splendid, I gotta get busy.”
I’m cake making while girls have tea around the table, Janah recaps the dinner menu.
Chloe, “My mouth waters, I’m going to escape the moment and dwell in the food future for a bit.”
Eloise, “What is this cheese?”
I turn to see, “Havarti, more creamy soft, not brie soft, but soft. There’s an aged ultra-sharp white cheddar, Danish bleu, and fontina from the Aosta Valley in Italy, in the Alps bordering France.”
Eloise, “I like them all, Daphne’s a cheese whiz.”
Amaya, “Yeah, fake cheese in a can, full of air and mystery additives.”
They laugh, except Dasha, the twins never laugh, or even grin, “Eemaya haf no problem eating Dahfoney cooking for years. Or leafing luxury wiz three homes and private jets because of Janah, Dahfoney and Nishiko.”
Amaya, “All true, not to mention they saved me from assholes when I was only nine. They are my heroines, as they are Chloe’s, you and the other communist, the cute trannie and the two weird girls upstairs. I live in the world’s most wonderfully interesting family.”
“Da, you are recognizing, gud enough.”
Janah, “Dasha will only let Amaya go so far.”
“I don’t mind, I’ve been butt of jokes forever, my own mother takes shots, but my heart is touched by my dear one’s defense.”

Nikko, “If everyone’s ego is intact, what’s the status of the professor and the cop?”
I return to caking, Janah addresses the question, “Boy toy is kept by the prof, Daria uncovered a healthy trust fund for Professor Taylor, not mega millions but several million. He keeps his wealth quiet, thus the older car and frumpy wardrobe. My guess is he doesn’t want the inevitable resentment off colleagues, nor the college assuming he doesn’t need or deserve tenure or advancement. Higher education is replete with petty jealousies and backstabbing. Trey, the boy toy, is not gay, or not exclusively. He’s serially girlfriended, and he likes them young. His phone records revealed calls to the dead girl, why the cops haven’t explored that is unknown, maybe the phone was a buy and fly, but Daria uncovered the owner. The girl, Tricia Darwell, was among his elderly play buddies, she was nineteen when the texts started. Trey is more of an early high school or late elementary girl type. Daria is still digging, but I have a theory, not enough evidence to articulate it yet.”
Zi, “Is it that easy to pick up young girls?”
“Easier, hot bod, maybe share a joint, his gym job gives him access to a fair number of girls. Show the younger ones a little interest, let the games begin.”
“How much more surveillance?”
“Today, maybe tomorrow, I have them on Trey full time.”
Nothing to do until there’s something to do, afternoon moves to early evening, cocktails, dinner, enjoy the star show outside for an hour. Amaya and Nikko go to her room, Chloe to the bedroom Nikko and Zi usually occupy. Must be mix-it-up night. Janah and I go to our bedroom, don’t know what the rest got up to.

Fifty Five

In the subsequent two days we have what we need. Tricia has a younger sister, fourteen, Sam, for Samantha. Sam is hot and knows it, and she likes to give it up. She’ll play with girls or boys or both at the same time.
Janah, “We may have uncovered Trey’s little girl dealer. We need to bring Truth and Trust along with the tranquilizer, we pick up Trey, haul him to a room someplace and find out what he knows. He’s hooking up with Tricia’s sister, Tricia may have found out and taken exception.”
“She threatens to out him, he sees perpetual sex offender registry like a bad tattoo. As the cops say, motive and opportunity.”
“Wonder what the sister knows? Hard to imagine she doesn’t have suspicions about Tricia’s death.”
“We’re going to find out.”
“Snatch Sam as well?”
“Depends on what Trey tells us, and there’s more. Trey went to a house in Tempe, a woman answered the door, thirty-ish. Before she closed the door, a kid, looked eight or nine jumps into his arms, they kiss full on the mouth, the door closes.”
“What’s that tell us? Maybe he trains mom.”
“The little girl was naked.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, and the listening device recorded the capper. Summary is Trey strips, we know that because mom and the girl have a discussion about his dick. The chat deteriorates from there. The kid sits on his lap, dances for them, does acrobatics, ultimately mom goes down on her daughter while the girl sucks him. One assumes they get up to other junk, but that’s what they did yesterday.”
“Not that it matters, we sure it’s her daughter?”
 “All confirmed, and her bio daughter, not adopted. Dad is indeterminate, father unknown is on the birth certificate.”
“Time to saddle up and ride.”
Amaya drives and is also handy with the pharmaceuticals, Eloise is our drone operator. Chloe comes so we have a Sensitive. She reads auras, picks up intent and tell us how many people are in a room from outside the room.
Mesa is about a hundred thirty miles from our place, after we get past highway 89, it’s all I-17.
Janah, “Mesa is one of the fastest growing cities in the country. In 1970 there were sixty three thousand people, today it’s just under a half million. Nearly doubled just since 1990. The whole Phoenix Metro is four and a half million, it’s a big place.”
An hour and a half later we hit highway 60, a sign says ‘Mesa next fifteen exits.”
“Dang, if the exits are a mile apart, that’s fifteen miles of town west to east.”
“Most of it fairly new.”
“And brown, everything is painted desert brown, with red tile roofs, is there a city ordinance? If it ain’t brown, it comes down.”
Amaya drives slowly past Taylor’s house, it’s a weekday but we don’t know what his class schedule is or how he keeps office hours. A standard cookie cutter neighborhood, house maybe ten years old. Part of his low profile, he wouldn’t have a big place in a gated community, probably doesn’t play golf.
“Well, he isn’t house poor.”
Amaya turns, circles the block, as we come up to his street, the BMW passes. Garage door trundles up, Trey pulls in. There’s no Volvo. He goes in the garage door entrance to the house, leaves the door up.
Janah dials a number, “Where’s Professor Taylor?,” she listens, clicks off.
“Teaching a graduate course, he usually has an hour or so of office time afterward.”
“Neighborhood is dead, suppose we collect Trey and get this party started?”
Janah, “Chloe, get a read on the house, see if anyone else is there, might be a housekeep or something.”
Amaya cruises past, Chloe has the window down, “Can’t quite catch the rear, one body front left.”
“Take a walk to the right rear corner.”
A minute later she returns, “Just him.”
I go to the door in the garage, knock, the door opens. Trey has his charm grin on.
“Hey honey, help you? You aren’t selling Girl Scout cookies?”
“Not today,” I look over his shoulder, “somebody’s at the patio door.”
He turns his head long enough for me to stick a syringe of tranquilizer in his neck. I catch him before he can drop.
Amaya backs the SUV to the garage, the hatch opens and the lower door peels down. Janah and I haul Trey out and stuff him in.
“Amaya, take his keys and drive the BMW, we’ll park it someplace crowded. The professor might find it strange that the car is here but Trey isn’t. Latex gloves, no prints. Daph, find his computer, he’s got a tablet or laptop someplace.”
An HP laptop and a box of thumb drives. Close up and we’re off.
“We have a room at a motel called Studio 6 on Country Club Drive.”
“Right up here, on Stapley, there’s a big strip mall with restaurants, a multiplex movie theater and a Walmart.”
I mental Amaya, “Take the Stapley exit then left to the Walmart on the left.”
We dump the car, we can give Trey his keys when we’re done with him.
We get out target situated, he’s tied to a chair, nylon ties on his wrists and ankles. We usually wire them, but he’s not going to be jacked up on LSD or amphetamines. In fact, with Truth and Trust, he’ll be so mellow we probably don’t need to restrain him at all.
He only got a small dose of Sleep, our tranquilizer, “He should be more lively in a half hour or so, you want me to ammonia cap him?”
Janah, “No, let’s see how he comes around. Dig into his phone and let’s see what’s what.”
Eloise plugs one of her accessories in the charging slot, the phone blinks on and asks for a password, then is wide open.
“Dang girl, that’s neat, when did you build this sucker, a phone password cracker.”
“Same thing we use for computers, just needed to fit a phone. IPhones and androids have different kinds of jacks, so I had to build a half dozen kinds of plugs, but the software is the same thing Susan built long ago, Daria tweaked the code, it goes pretty fast now. Oh, I forgot, we also have remotes that will open garage doors and unlock any car. I’m working on something to shut down home alarm systems, backed up or not.”
“Awesome, we can be cat burglars if we run out of money.”
Janah, “If we run out of four billion dollars we should live on the street.”
Amaya, “Hah, we don’t spend what Nikko earns in muni bond interest, much less all the other interest and dividends. Oligarchs-R-Us.”
Our target’s head moves, time to drip in different drugs. Amaya has the needle in his vein, she inserts the syringe with Trust, drops a few ccs in his arm, pull the syringe from the Luer-Lok and swaps it for Truth.
Janah, “You want the interview Amaya?”
“You bet honey girl, watch and wonder.”
Naturally none of us look anything like we look naturally. No need to go overboard, just watch caps, big sunglasses, we could be rap stars except for the black part. All the longer hairs are ponytailed, the tail stuck underneath our long sleeve pullovers. Baggy jeans and nondescript steel toe sneakers complete the anti-fashion look. He saw me at the house briefly, but he wouldn’t be able to pick me out of a lineup of three tomorrow.
His back is to the mirror of the small vanity next to the bathroom. All he sees are fat halogen lights, one to the front, one left one right. He might be blind when this is over.
“Janah, you good? I think Eloise, Chloe and I will be more useful keeping an eye on things outside.”
“Go, don’t worry about outside, find a place and bring tea back for us. This will take a while, I want Amaya to bring him along slowly.”
We drive to Dutch Brothers, a walk up or drive thru coffee place significantly better than Starbucks. Last time we went, I was amazed by the number of people who sit in line in their car when the walk up is wide open. Same deal now, burn gas and play with their phones rather than the painful ten step walk to the window.
Chloe, Eloise and I sit at the outdoor table and sip, I go to Janah’s mind to check on progress.
Trey is past foggy, more collected, He’s also completely nude, not a hair anyplace but his head. Amaya nudges him on with simple questions, buff trainer loves to talk about himself.
“What do you do for a living Trey?”
“Personal trainer, aerobics instructor.”
“Should have guessed, tight bod like yours, must be a bitch to diet all the time.”
“Worth it, I look in the mirror, like what I see.”
“Me too sweetie, bet a bunch of ladies like what they see.”
He grins, blinking into the light, “The oldies are a pain, cougars. Eyes of the younger ones on me make up for it.”
She changes the subject, where he grew up, siblings, none, bland chat, I see Amaya’s fingers on the syringe upping his dose.
Janah, “She’s adding more Truth. He did the usual at first, ‘what’s this about, those lights are blinding, why am I tied down?’ She convinced him he came to her for a sex game. Trust did its job, and as soon as she said sex play, he relaxed and went along. He thinks Amaya is fourteen.”
“She only looks fifteen anyway.”

Trey, “So what’s next?”
Amaya, “It turns me on to talk first,” she reaches out and strokes his half hard cock, biong! Like a rock.
“Dang, he’s feeling the vibe.”
“Do tell.”
“I like girls too Trey, not cougars, more like me, and younger, so fresh, totally sensual.”
“Yeah, yeah. I got a couple of moms, they like to watch me play with their daughters…their seven and eight year old daughters.”
“Oooohh, love it. I ate out a six year old once, sooo sweet.”
Trey’s cock gets any harder it’s going to be rebar.
While she gently strokes his twitching member, she continues, “I did have a problem once. A girl told her older brother about us. He threatened to out me if I didn’t suck him off. Trust me, he looked nothing like you, small cock, bush of nasty pubic hair. I did it a couple of times, then he wanted to fuck me, and worse, wanted to fuck me in the ass. I fixed him though.”
“What’d you do?”
“Let’s just say his cock doesn’t work anymore.”
Trey laughs, “A nymphomaniac called Sam and I used to have lots of fun, her sister caught us. Bitch threatened to go to the cops. I had to fix that little problem.”
“Fix it good?’
“Permanently.”
“Good for you honey, um…does the girl, Sam, have a clue?”
“It was her fucking idea, her righteous sister was constantly up her ass.”
“Got rid of her problem for her. You’re making me hot, want to check me out, Trey? I love to take it off.”
“Cool.”
Studio 6 is an extended stay place, with a sink, refrigerator and a couple of cabinets with dishes. It’s out of the line of sight from Trey’s position. Amaya turns off the halogens, the room light is dim, Trey is blinking away the bright while his pupils adjust.
Amaya is in front of him bare as a baby.
“Wow…fucking perfect.”
She straddles his legs, her fingertips slide along the shaft, Trey moans.
“Keep control baby, I’m going to take my time enjoying your fun stick. I’m dying to suck it, but the tease is making me wet.”
She shifts and straddles his thigh, hips undulate against his smooth hard hairless muscle.
“Feel my wet pussy baby?”
“Oh God yes.”
“Tell me about the little girls, make me crazy, then I want your dick in my mouth.”
“My mother introduced me to sex. Gave me baths, played with my little cock, licked and sucked. Then she traded me with other moms, sometimes for boys, sometimes girls.”
“Oh fuck,” she picks up the pace against his shaft, “more…”
“By the time I was fifteen, I had a half dozen twelve, ten and eight year old girls. The mothers watched us go down on each other. Then a couple girls started sending me pics of themselves and wanted me to get together with them without mom around. One of them included pics of her little friend, she wanted in the fun too. I must have a thousand photos and videos of a fifty girls by now and a dozen boys so pretty they could be girls.”
“Love it, love it, love it, pretty like you Trey. I’ve sucked off a few tender twelves.”
She’s pumping his dick, grinding herself on his thigh. She does a wild fake orgasm, he spews, cum squirts up his chest. I’m no expert on ejaculate volume, but his looks pretty healthy.

Fifty Six

Halogens on, Trey full of Sleep tranquilizer, Amaya’s cleaned herself and the damp spot she left on his leg with disinfectant cloths. Janah’s removed the needle.
It’s possible to get fingerprints off skin, so they do a wipe-down with wet towels, particularly his cock, his arms and chest. They leave the cum, it’s his and lovely evidence he’d been enjoying something. A casual wipe down of the sink and faucet handles. It’s a motel room, all sorts of prints will be around, motel maids aren’t that thorough.
We pull down the sheets, transfer Trey to the bed, his head propped on a couple of pillows. Next to him the laptop screensaver flicks child porn photos, many of which include him. On the desk I leave a couple of thumbs with more photos. I keep the rest of the thumb drives. If something goes weird, we want more evidence. We also have the entire encounter recorded, audio only of course.
Finally, Eloise and Amaya set up a video cam with a tripod and a lighting panel. It will suggest Trey intended to make more movies.
On the way home Janah calls her contact, “It’s Mrs. Pearson regarding Professor Taylor and your persistent detective. Tell the DA it isn’t the professor or the boyfriend. They can find the suspect sedated at Studio 6 on Country Club Drive in Mesa, room one sixteen. He’ll be out another three to four hours. It’s the professor’s play buddy Trey Faulkner. The deceased girl, Tricia, found Trey having sex with her fourteen year old sister. When she threatened to give him up, he killed her. There’s also enough child porn on his laptop to stick him in a dark hole for a long time.”
Contact, “And prisoners hate child pervs, many of them were molested or worse.”
“Good enough,” she clicks off.
“Another one bites the dust.”
Janah, “The prof will abandon him like a diseased dog. Unfortunately, if Trey stars blabbing, Taylor may get painted guilty by association. I don’t see a way to help him dodge that.”
Amaya, “You also do not know what he knew. He may have been aware of Faulkner’s predilections. He was, after all, paying a male prostitute.”
“True enough. They are surely going to confiscate the professor’s computers. Would have been stupid for him to download to his own computer when Trey’s stuff was available to him anyway. The thumb drives aren’t encrypted, all he had to do was plug and play.”
Janah, “People do dumb things all the time, they think they’re invisible. If the professor is clean, he might get some sideways glances, but he won’t be harassed by the detective or suspected of murder. If he’s in possession of child porn, then he’s cooked with Trey.”
“If they go to prison together, professor could still have his play pal.”
“If Trey goes to prison for participating in child porn, much less possession of, there might not be anything left to play with.”
Chloe, “People really can’t control what they do, can they?”
“Mostly no, free will is a myth, we’ve discussed that before. Faulkner was trained by his mother that sex play with children was just dandy, she broke him in herself and used him to bring in fresh children. Daphne, how long will it take to get the audio cleaned up?”
“An hour or two. Amaya used a completely different voice, younger and higher pitched, she had no name, Trey didn’t care about names. He essentially confessed to the murder and extensive participation in kiddie sex. His story about mom may buy him some leniency on the porn thing, but not the murder. Trey’s prison life will be hell one way or the other. Put him in the population, he’s dead, solitary is another kind of hell.”
Janah, “Solitary won’t help, guards have children too. Trey’s destined to be an assisted suicide. He’ll be dead before the New Year, maybe sooner.”
At home I clean up the audio, make an MP3 and send it off to our Society contact. They will forward it to the DA in Maricopa County. Loony old Sheriff Arpaio will have a field day with Trey Faulkner.
A day later, it’s national news. Trey is already stewing in jail, no bail. The prof is perp walked past shouting reporters and a testy mob. A relative of dead Tricia, name withheld, is in for questioning, no doubt sister Sam. Authorities were tipped off that an adult man had checked into a local motel with a collection of child porn. It is also reported that the motel room was equipped with video cameras and lighting equipment. They believe he was preparing to make videos of as yet unknown victims. No children were found at the scene.
Nikko, “Good work, you made a nice mess in Mesa, wish I could have participated.”
“Trey wouldn’t have left the room intact and the place would have been full of blood.”
Nikko shrugs, she is who she is.
Eloise, “I didn’t even get to use the drone Nikko, Daphne plugged him in the neck with a syringe of Sleep. Amaya had all the fun.”
Amaya, “Do not be ridiculous elf. My idea of fun has nothing to do with displaying my perfection to a man and rubbing my ultra perfection on his nasty leg. Fondling his cock was not so bad though, still, an act, a performance. As always, mine was splendid.”
“Based on the size of the load he shot, it was damn near divine.”
I get a huge laugh, not at me for once.
Nikko, “Too much information Sylk,” she has a tiny grin though.
A week later the Society contact calls, Trey is coughing up names of participants to plea out of the death penalty.

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