Sixty Nine

Katya calls Daria, they got home, first for a week in Houston to show their faces at the four Katya Donut shops. They also own two of the buildings shops are
located in, the other two are leased space. Nikko found them smaller commercial properties in Chicago and San Francisco. Murakami Sylk Property Management manages them as a courtesy. We’ve laundered millions in cash they stole from drug dealers, I have trouble using the term drug lords, sounds cheesy.
New Orleans has been their real home for several years, Katya is more at ease there and they’re all New Orleans foodies.
Janah, “Daria said they have a couple of business deals to conclude, then to St. Martin’s for a week. Ellen likes the idea of micro bikinis and ocean air.”
“Ellen likes strutting her stuff, almost as much as I like her strutting her stuff.”
“She’s got the right stuff, if she and Amaya did lez porn, they’d clean up.”
Amaya comes down the steps, “We did lez porn, lots of it, just not for the masses.”
Janah, “What’s dinner?”
“Hot dogs.”
Amaya, “Eeewww, do not be disgusting, pulverized pork lips do not pass through my lips.”
“When have we ever had hot dogs?”
“Never, that sausage Dasha uses in beans is, I am certain, quite nasty enough. It is also disgustingly delectable, but as far as I can sink on processed pig parts.”
“I tried fake meat hot dogs once, they haven’t got it right yet, garden burgers are okay.”
“I admire Janah’s vegetarianism, it is not for me however. I need fried chicken, steak, your incredible fried fish and boiled shrimp.”
“I bought cooked shrimp for appetizers, they aren’t bad, not as good as boiling fresh shrimp, freezing changes the consistency, but we’re in Arizona, not New York.”
“And what for Janah?”
“Fried vegetables.”
Janah, “Yay! I shall get on the net, research something and anticipate. Cocktails in an hour?”
Amaya, “Precisely.”
They go off, the rest of the family disappeared after tea, Dasha and I organize dinner prep. Our entrée is a surprise, osso bucco, they love the fall apart veal and rich brown sauce. New potatoes accompany. Fried vegetables will be the appetizer along with peeled jumbo shrimp and cocktail sauce.
Dasha, “I haf almond cake wiz French vanilla frosting, they will like.”
I go to check on my otherworldly daughters, Oceane is drawing, Cassie is floating behind her, checking out the piece. I don’t interrupt, they’re happily occupied.
Next door, Sloane is coming out of the shower, “Hey mom, Oceane is drawing Cassie in the air, it’s going to be gorgeous.”
“I saw her drawing but didn’t want to interrupt so I didn’t see what it was.”
She’s drying off, her boy part has grown, my daughter is a stud, how weird is that?
“Sit, I’ll dry your hair.”
The blow dryer screams, Sloane’s hair is thick, just past her shoulders. I brush and blow until she’s shiny and straight.
“There, beautiful.”
She smiles, stands, turns and leans against the vanity. She’s whip thin, muscular from racing around, washboard tummy, curve of muscle in arms and legs. Then there’s the penis. She keeps everything hairless except her head, like the rest of us. Her girl hormones soften her features, if you saw her in shorts or a miniskirt, all you would see is an athletic hot girl.
I take her penis in my hand, “Keeping it active?”
She grins, “Oceane takes care of that, and your honey. Sarah does a job on me when she’s here.”
“Cassie too.”
“Yeah, she didn’t initiate at first, she just followed Oceane’s lead, but now she shows up in my room on her own, and she knows what she wants.”
The conversation, and perhaps my fondling, have started to enlarge things. I let her go but stroke her cock with my fingertips.
“Geez that feels good,” it’s poking out straight and quivering slightly.
“I like the way it feels, let me find you an outlet,” I mental Janah, “You following my perversion?”
“Of course, I’m warming.”
“Then come up and take care of her, I’m starting to want to go beyond my limits.”
“She’s not a biological daughter, clearly she knows your interest, and likes teasing you about it.”
“Come along, she’s ready to please.”

I’m still stroking, Sloane’s eyes are on the matter at hand, she’s biting her lower lip, Janah appears clothing free.
Sloane takes in the vision, “Oh God she’s gorgeous.”
“And hot for you,” I bend down and kiss the tip, “enjoy ladies.”
Downstairs I can’t resist a peek through Janah’s eyes, she didn’t waste any time. I see her looking up at Sloane, Sloane’s cock sliding back and forth in her mouth.
In my bed now, fingers between my legs, hot from my private porn channel. Janahs sitting on the vanity now, leaned back, Sloane is fucking her slow.
Janah, lost in sensual bliss, “I love the way your cock feels inside me, keep it slow, I’m having a perpetual orgasm.”
I have my own orgasm, a splendid shudder shock earthquake.
Nikko, “You are a filthy perverted queer. Come to me, I need servicing.”
She won’t have to demand twice, in her room she’s nude next to nude Zi, I’m down on her in seconds. Nikko calls me every kind of slut in Japanese until she explodes in climax. Then Zi straddles her face, Nikko gets busy pleasuring her.
I’m still kneeling between Nikko’s trim thighs, studying Zi’s smooth hard tush, she turns to me, “What are you waiting for? Lick my ass bitch, lick it slow.”
What a luscious lead into the evening.
I go to our bedroom to refresh. Janah’s already there, nude on the bed recovering, mischievous grin on her lovely, “If you’d have suggested ten years ago that I want a dick occasionally, I’d have called you delusional.”
“People change. Besides, you don’t want a hairy leg and beard stubble, you want smooth and silken.”
“True, I have an aversion to body hair.”
“As does the rest of the tribe.”
Washed and dried, we go to forage, Janah to a glass of wine, me to assist Dasha with deep fried cauliflower, broccoli and mushrooms. Osso bucco done, sauce simmering around the chunks of veal shank.

Seventy

Time to migrate to Manhattan for a couple of months, then to Canada to dodge the sweltering city summer. Danika and Su haul us to Prescott Municipal, two jets await. We don’t fly the whole family on one plane. Bad things happen to mechanical things in the air and when they do it at thirty thousand feet, outcomes are deadly.
Today, however, neither jet falls out of the sky and our friends from the car service have two SUVs waiting to collect us at Teterboro.
Angelo is our primary driver, Nick has the second car, we pile in and head home.
Angelo, “Miss Daphne, you been in Arizona, everybody got some sun.”
“Yes, beautiful spot, Oceane, Sloane and Cassie would live there full time. The big pool and all the toys are the main attractions for them.”
“You ain’t leavin’ the city?”
“No way, the city is our primary home. We’ve been fortunate, Nikko, Zi and Daria make us enough money to escape freezing winters and hot summers. We spoil ourselves.”
“Ain’t much point to money if you don’t spend it. Guys at the shop, they always askin’ what part of the world the girls are in. California, San Fran, Arizona, the Caribbean, Canada, Japan for Christ’s sake, even London, I remember the London thing.”
“How’s the family?”
“Angela still braggin’ ‘bout her film star Chloe, got the pictures on the wall from when you came for dinner those times.”
“Ah, best Italian is homemade Italian.”
We pull up to the curb in front of Chapman’s School for Girls. School is in session, Paladin Security at the doorway and the reception desk in the lobby. Paladin is an all female security service. They do bodyguard, escort, building security. They are not a uniform, a gun and good luck. They are trained to protect, to drive for evasion and escape, all forms of executive protection. They train hand to hand, have to meet fitness and firearms requirements and are tested quarterly. They are not for show.
“Daphne and tribe, welcome home. Your mom, Lacy and Taylor have been in and out the past couple of days. Based on the deliveries, I’d say the pantry and refrigerator are well stocked. You got a great mom kid.”
“The best. Gone for two months, Dasha and I would have to shop for two or three days to get resupplied. At least Manhattan delivers, Dasha and I call it in, Sis and pals show up to collect the stuff and put it away. We’ll make dinner for them as a thanks.”
“Oh, stay on your toes, we’ve had a bit of suspicious behavior on the cams, guys hanging around the block that don’t fit. They haven’t approached the school, or any of the students, they appear to be taking photos though.”
“When can I see the video?”
Marcel grins, “Figured that, here’s a copy I burned.”
“Did you edit it?”
“No, I figured you’d want all of it, may spot something we didn’t catch.”
“Good, we’ll fire up the coffee pot and take a look. Anything else, no matter how minor, call us.”
“Got it.”
Upstairs to join the others, “Oceane, when you’re settled, you and Zi and anyone else interested, start in on the videos. Anything suspicious, note the time. You can recap at tea.”
Oceane appears flighty and unfocused, but that’s a misperception. She’s not focused on the things most of us are, but she is undestractable, nothing gets in between her and the things she’s attending to. It’s why her art is so precise, why she’s a premier drone pilot, why she can dive like an Olympian. If there’s some anomalous behavior on the video, she will spot it.
Janah, “I’m going to watch with Oceane and Zi, crank out some green for us please.
“Bring it along in a bit.”
Dasha is checking the kitchen inventory, I make a pot of green, let it steep, bring the pot and cups to the office where they are watching video of the street in front of Chapman’s. There is also video of the alley behind us for deliveries and dumpsters. The third camera covers a second alley alongside the building, a private entrance to the school, where kids can be dropped off away from the public street. Some parents let their kids walk to school, most are driven, some want more security and that’s what the side drive is for.
Chapman’s girls come from wealth, several are kids of diplomats and high ranking political types. Prime targets for either kidnapping or terrorism. The school has never had an incident, in part due to extensive security measures. The basement is bomb proof, there is filtered ventilation, enough food and water to last a month. If something traps them inside, an assault for instance, girls in the basement would survive.
We live on the fifth and now sixth floors, our growing family essentially required us to convert much of the roof to living quarters. The school is basement through four. We long ago bought the property from Lacy Chapman, who vacated her apartment on the same floor as ours and moved in with my mom and Taylor in the Perry St. condo. Susan has owned the entire building for years. Janah’s parents have the first floor, Sis took over both two and three, the Weinstein’s rent the fourth, a retired couple who spend the bulk of the year traveling.
“What’s on the menu Dasha?”
“Nothing, I called Mariella, we will go to Ultra Violet, I haf anyway to check out keetchen.”
“Good plan, I’m feeling crispy fried catfish platter with habanero cornbread.”
I go to make sure sheets are fresh on the beds, towels are fresh in the baths. Amaya is ahead of me.
“Your mom, Lacy and Taylor made all the beds, baths are stocked with fresh towels, I’ve called Susan and thanked her. She said her price is brunch Sunday.”
“Dad and Kara too?’
“Yes.”
“Thank you, we’ll give them a top shelf experience.”
“She requested Beluga blini for starters.”
“Dasha will be pleased.”
It’s tea time, girls gather, curious about the videos.
Janah, “Three men, youngish, ostensibly taking photos and video of the Village. They change looks enough not be recognized as the same people to the casual observer, but it’s the same three men.”
“What’s the focus?”
“A lot of nothing, but the cameras all return to the street entrance to Chapmans and the private drive. Some shots of the rear alley but they seem less interested in that.”
Nikko, “Any ideas Daph?”
“They’re trying to get a feel for the comings and goings at the school. We can’t know why just yet. Oceane and Eloise on drones tomorrow, monks on the street.”
“Black and Chan would expect to be included.”
“Duh, thank you. Janah, call Chan, I’ll call Black. We’ll feed them breakfast then turn them loose on 10th and Greenwich.”
Plan in place, Dasha announces, “Dinner at Ultra Violet for seven thirty, cocktails here at six thirty. You will go someplace so Dahfoney and I can clear tea, bye now, thanking you for coming, haf a nice day, see you again soon…”
Amaya, “Crazed Communist, demanding dictator in her kitchen domain, she is entirely your fault Daphne.”
“Thank you.”

Seventy One

Black and Chan show up for seven, monks are early birds. We go typical American, grits, scrambled, bacon, glazed ham slices, buttermilk biscuits.
Black, “Dasha got the touch on eggs, biscuits for big boys.”
Black is six-four or five, two fifty of muscle and bone. Chan isn’t tall, five nine shades it in his favor, but he’s thick back to front and side to side. And none of it is fat.
Oceane and Cassie appear, they’re fond of Chan in their way. He’s got powerful qi, they relate to the vibe of energy he radiates.
Oceane, “Men are going to steal girl,” she returns to her tea, Cass takes hers elevated, cross-legged in the air next to Oceane’s shoulder.
Black stares, “Oh man, don’t tell me, when did this start?”
“I can’t not tell you and tell you. About six or eight months.”
“Sonia gonna think I’m hallucinating.”
“How is the babe?”
“Still got it, you gave us those injections, she gonna be a fine thing until whenever. When Royce has his pals over they can’t believe his hot mom. They polite though.”
“Might have something to do with a massive dad.”
“Most of ‘em in my martial arts class, they learn to respect others and themselves.”
Oceane and Chan are playing with the utensils, two knives are having a swordfight midair over the table.
Janah comes along, hugs for Chan and Black, “I see the qi master has found a way to amuse himself.”
Cassie point a finger at the knives, they clatter to the table.
Chan, “Young girl is powerful.”
Amaya is behind him, “Young girls live on the other side of the veil.”
Chan, “Most people don’t know there is a veil, lost in an illusion that what they see is real. Girls see the real.”
Amaya, “Sit down Cassandra, we do not wish to talk up to you.”
She floats to the chair next to Oceane.
“Better, eat breakfast like a proper young lady.”
A fork lifts, scoops up egg, to Cassie’s mouth, slips between her lips and back to the plate.
Black, “What you put in my coffee Dasha?”
“Coffee ees coffee only, aig only aig, greets only greets, no drug, buhter and zalt. You want more aig?”
“I’m good, need to get on the street. Girls will be coming to school soon.”
Chan, “Oceane, you said men are going to steal girl, one girl in particular?”
“The drone will catch them, you will see her soon,” she stands, takes Cassie’s hand, they go upstairs.
“Zi and I will go with you, she can read intent and I want a close-up of these guys.”
Down the elevator, the school day is cranking up. They go outside to position, three Shaolin who, despite the size of two, will remain invisible on the busy street. I stop to talk to a couple of teachers, students are just arriving through the front door, I hear cars at the side entrance.
I decide to lurk in the alley, see if I can line up anyone with a phone pointed down the alley. To get a picture or video of a student entering from here, they would have to be in a line of sight from the alley on one side of the street or other.
Janah, “Be a stretch to grab a girl using that entrance, it’s fifty feet from the street.”
“Yes, but cars exit around the rear alley. If I wanted to grab a girl, I wouldn’t come from the front, I’d roll a dumpster out to block the exit and snatch her from the car. They might not be shy about killing the driver, it’s usually a hire car, not a family member. Driver could be a suspect though.”
“Doesn’t compute that the driver would be involved, why do surveillance, taking photos outside? Why even get as far as the school?”
“Wouldn’t make much sense, would it? Guess I can trash that idea.”

I walk to the end of the alley, peer down the back, nothing. Dumpsters are to the wall, there’s a gate at the end of the alley, it opens automatically as a car approaches. A camera monitors the exit and the gate can be opened from inside when the garbage truck or deliveries need in.
School’s started, side door is shut and locked, the rear door stays locked unless there’s a delivery. Camera records all deliveries, Paladin knows the trucks and drivers, one of the women stands at the door as things are brought in. Mostly food, the door opens to the kitchen, other bulk supplies come in the same way. UPS and Fed Ex or local couriers use the front entrance. None of them can get any further than the reception lobby, a second door into the school is locked.
No, girls aren’t locked down, but if they leave, the school has to hear from parent or guardian verbally and by text. Most of the girls have GPS trackers. Chapman’s girls are intelligent, gifted even, they don’t whine about privacy. It’s Manhattan, safety trumps privacy. I talk to a fair number of the students, so does Sloane and Chloe. The girls know that our family carries personal GPS, that any other family member can know where we are when we’re not at home. That we’re monitored by twelve other people.
We gather in the condo.
Black, “Nobody doing anything but going someplace else.”
Chan, “Same.”
Zi, “Saw people with dark auras, but I see those all day in town. Nothing came to my attention regarding bad intent towards the school or students.”
“If they are going to grab a girl, it may be more likely when school lets out. And not all girls are in the building all day, some go to Columbia, Fordham or NYU. Others have internships at various museums. The school takes them and picks them up if they’re returning to school that day.”
Nikko, “Maybe they’ve collected all the video they need. They were there while we were still out of town.”
“Good point. So what now?”
Janah, “We saw them on the security video, we have a general idea of size and shape. Varied hats, sunglasses and clothes kept us from getting a clear description. It was dumb to always be three, that’s what caught Paladin’s attention.”
Amaya, “I do not see a way to identify a specific student. Most of the parents are rich, assuming it is a kidnapping for ransom. If it is revenge, or someone wants a parent to back off of something, we still do not know much.”
“Maybe we do, or can find out. Daria, let’s Google all the parents, see what comes up.”
Chloe, “Like a major business deal in progress, or a prosecutor on a big case, any diplomats involved in negotiations that would create a disturbance someplace.”
“Diplomats are always creating a disturbance, but your point is a good one. Let’s get busy. Janah, we have a current parent list?”
“I’ll get one. A hundred girls, we can run through the list fairly quickly.”
“Okay, and to get different eyes on the search, I suggest each parent get researched by two of us separately. Someone may see something the other missed. Both mom and dad, even if one lives apart, in the US or overseas.”
Black and Chan stay to Google names with us, Dasha lays out cold cuts, bread and condiments. We make a sandwich and keep searching. By two thirty, we’re done.
Black, “Man, some of these parents got fingers in a dozen pies.”
Chan, “Sounds like Nikko.”
Nikko, “I have excellent partners, we spread the load around.”
Janah, “What do we have?”

Seventy Two

Most of the names are doing nothing to warrant a kidnapping. We are assuming they are interested in one of the students, no reason it couldn’t be a teacher or staff member, but we lean towards a student partially because of Oceane’s prediction.
After review, three possibilities surface. One dad is a Chinese diplomat, read spy, all diplomats are spies. He’s been tediously tendentious on the subject of Chinese land grabs. Specifically Tibet and some islands that are considered part of Japan by everyone except the Chinese. His approach has been less than diplomatic, he’s more in your face than face to face, the delegation bad cop. His daughter, Liu, is a chemistry whiz and has no interest in Tibet or Japan, she’s embarrassed by dad’s petulant outbursts.
The second possibility is a girl with an Argentinean father and an American mother. He’s a rancher in Argentina with a zillion acres of land full of grazing cattle. The divorce was acrimonious, but mom got a ton and lives the good live on the Upper West side. She has three children by the cowboy, two sons and the girl. The boys go to Trinity, nothing special about them. The girl, Abril, is a linguist and plays violin. She’s not Carnegie Hall, but she’ll be a solid second chair for any quality symphony. Dad could care less about the sons, but is smitten with Abril. Not smitten like a perv, just an adoring daddy. He can only visit the girl in America, supervised. He’s been arguing that point in court since the divorce decree.
The third possibility is a sweet seventh grader named Emily who has the misfortune to be have a BPD mom. Borderline personality disorder is almost eternally messy, drugs don’t work, therapy is generally ineffective. When you blame everything wrong on anyone but yourself, and are a primo manipulator with no conscience, chatting about it on a couch is merely frustration for the therapist. Many won’t take borderlines as patients. Sometimes borderlines, seventy five to ninety percent of which are women, get tired of fighting with everyone and settle down after forty five or fifty. In this case, mom has joint custody with the husband, who perhaps for different reasons than the Argentinean, wants to get his daughter out of mom’s clutches.
Some of it Googled, the rich and self important have a way of airing their issues in the news. The rest Janah learned from Alicia Franks, the current Head of School at Chapman’s.
Nikko, “ I don’t see the diplomat, kidnapping the daughter of a man that can be easily replaced is no leverage. The borderline’s husband isn’t out of the question , but what’s he do with her? And will that even work with a crazy ex-wife?”
Janah, “No, she’d make it worse, in fact, she’d relish the idea of a kidnapping. Get to play the aggrieved victim yet again, borderlines make a career out of aggrieved victim.”
“That leaves the cowboy, and if he gets her to Argentina, she’s not going home again.”
Janah and I go to see Alicia Franks and present our conclusions.
Alicia, “If the people Paladin spotted are looking to take a student, and the situation with her father is accurate, I can’t fault your logic. But what do we do? Tell her your suspicions, inform her mother? Get everyone in a frenzy over something that may be about something or someone else entirely?”
Janah, “All good questions. No, we don’t suggest any of that now. What do you know of the parental situation?”
Alicia, “Not much, I know there is acrimony over visitation. As you know, Chapman’s longstanding policy is not to insert ourselves into family dysfunction, not to allow the school to be drawn in. You went to school here, Lacy had the policy all along. Every few months I have a parent in here wanting us to take sides. I listen until it gets repetitive, then I give them the speech. We don’t provide therapy, the only counseling is academic and that is not guidance in the traditional sense. Chapman’s girls know what they want, our counseling consists of the most efficient way for them to get it.”
“And other stuff, like bullying, doesn’t happen here, never did when we were students.”
Alicia, “If it does, your RSGs deal with it before it comes to my attention.”
RSG stands for Reform School Girls, the taekwondo students. I started the class years ago and it became the most popular physical activity in school. Chapman’s girls are as far from reform school types as is imaginable. First, the day is busy and challenging, not much time for social one-upmanship. Second, part of every girl’s curriculum is etiquette, how to behave and do it graciously. Parents are astounded, daughters who are supposed to act out hormonal excess with attitude don’t.
Janah, “To the matter at hand. We are giving you an update on our findings. My people will be keeping an eye on the area. If the three snoops show up again, we’ll find out what they’re up to. I’m more concerned that they won’t show up again.”
Alicia, “But…oh, you mean they have the photos they want, now they’re planning whatever it is they’re planning.”
“Yes.”
“So we just wait?”
“Not exactly. Sloane was a student here. She doesn’t know Abril, but she can show up at school and say she is doing research on something or other. It’s not unusual for former students to come around and talk to favorite instructors or spend time in the labs. She can go to the language lab for instance. Abril is a linguist, Sloane will find a way to engage her. Abril is fourteen Sloane is more like eighteen, but she looks younger. The point is, she can serve as an invisible bodyguard. If we find out it’s something else, we’ll deal with that then.”
Alicia, “Sloane is willing to give up that much time? I mean, you guys travel a lot.”
“This will be resolved soon, if it isn’t then we’re chasing the wrong fox.”
“I’m feeling a bit relieved, this business has me preoccupied as you can imagine. A kidnapping at Chapman’s would be horrifying.”
“Paladin is on high alert, I’m going to have Eloise and Daria install additional external cameras, further up, on our floor. We will monitor your cams and ours. We have already arranged for our people to cover the surrounding streets and in particular the alleys alongside and behind the building.”
“Suppose she’s taken elsewhere? Right now, her mother drops her off and collects her.”
“They will be followed from home to school and back, the condo will be monitored twenty four seven.”
“Good Lord, how many people do you have? It will be horrendously expensive.”
“Not particularly, monks work free, they consider it training. A chance to get out of the temple and do actual surveillance is a welcome break in routine.”
“Ah, I’d forgotten, the Shaolin. You certainly know how to cover the bases.”
“We have some experience.”

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