Page 61 of Serial Love

“Did she admit that she knew her husband was having an affair?” Jack asked.

“No, not directly. But then she said, ‘Everyone gets what’s coming to them, and she certainly did.’ I asked her if she knew anything about the murder, and she wouldn’t respond.”

“So, another dead end?”

Jack grinned. “While she was puttering around in the kitchen when I first got there, I saw a family picture on the mantle. It was her, a man I assumed to be Jeff…and a boy. A teenage boy.”

Monty picked up on this quickly, turning to his computer to get into the FBI files. “We need to find Jeff Jefferson’s son.”

“I asked her about him,” Jack replied, “but she grimaced and said he was dead.”

“Fuck!” Monty cursed, about to slam his tablet down.

“Hold on,” Luke cut in. “Jack had me look. His name was Stan Jefferson, but there’s no death certificate on record for him. He disappeared after his high school graduation and dropped out of sight.”

Bart shook his head, “No one disappears. He’s gotta be somewhere.”

“If the dad was banging Charlene in the shed on their property and the wife knew, then perhaps the son saw it as well.”

Monty, thinking out loud, said, “Teen boy sees his dad screwing a girl he knew. He’s excited. Maybe gets his rocks off or at least fantasizes. He hears his mom complaining about his dad’s whores, so he equates this girl with whores. If dad’s a fisherman, he’d have grown up around the knives used in the trade.”

Jack nodded, “I have to tell you, I wouldn’t put it past Mrs. Jefferson to tell her son to get rid of the girl. Or, if she knew her son had killed Charlene, she certainly wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“That would put the kid at about forty to forty-five years old now, which would be the right age for the photograph from the bar with Karen Solter.”

“Why now?” Chad asked. “And why the college girls?”

“There is no death record of Stan Jefferson, and the people I asked about him all said they remembered he left town because he didn’t want to have anything to dowith his father’s business. What if he went to college? False name, everything. And maybe killed there for the first time.”

“Tries to get into some girl’s pants, she shoots him down, pokes him with her finger, and he goes off again. He’s killed once, why not again?”

“We have to find Stan Jefferson,” Jack stated. “Bart and Chad acquired his dental records while we were there.” This statement elicited several grins from the other men. “Luke, see what you can come up with. Monty, get the Bureau on this and see what they can find. Gentlemen? I have a feeling we may be getting close.”

With renewed enthusiasm, the men got to work.

Why is she sleeping around? She was such a good girl. Just like all the others. Tramps. Whores. Stealing men with their wicked ways.He watched carefully as the light went out after the man entered the room. The urges were coming more often.

He grimaced, palming his cock. His head was pounding, the headaches coming more frequently. Stepping back into the shadows, he unzipped his pants and worked his cock until he came against the building. Looking around to make sure no one had witnessed, he tucked himself back in. Glancing down at his watch, he knew if he did not get back soon, he would be missed.

Slipping deeper into the shadows, he turned and hurried away.

The morning sun peeked through the curtains covering the windows in Bethany’s bedroom, sending shards of light shining down on the couple in bed. Jack gazed at the woman in his arms as she stirred awake, her eyelids fluttering open. He leaned over capturing her lips in a kiss, the memory of the previous night’s lovemaking on his mind.

“Morning,” she mumbled against his lips just before he plunged his tongue deep inside her mouth. She expected a chaste morning kiss, but the white-hot, all-in Jack morning kiss sent a zing straight to her core. Meeting his tongue thrust for thrust, she could tell her panties were already wet.Wait, I’m not wearing panties!Rubbing her thighs together, she could feel the moisture pooling between her legs.

That was the last conscious thought she had before he took over, sending her senses into hyperspace.

His fingers found their way through her slick folds, deep into her sex, tweaking the places that he learned made her writhe, moan, and ultimately come on his command. And he was in total command.

“Dump your shirt, beautiful,” he ordered softly, and she gladly jerked her t-shirt over her head, tossing it to the side. Her breasts bounced with the motion, and he grasped one distended nipple in his mouth as his fingers continued to work their magic. It did not take long before she was hurling toward her orgasm. Pressing on her clit with his thumb, she screamed her release, andhe felt her inner walls grab his fingers as he nipped her breasts.

Sliding down her body, kissing as he went, he slipped between her legs, lifting each one over his shoulders. She leaned up and saw his eyes twinkling at hers before he clasped his mouth over her dripping folds, lapping loudly.

“Oh, my God. Are you trying to kill me? Death by orgasm?” she breathed.

He lifted his head just long enough to growl, “Is that okay with you?”

“Oh hell, yeah, Jack. Go for it,” she moaned, throwing her head back onto the pillow. His tongue now worked the magic that his fingers had previously accomplished, and her core once again tightened. Moving her hands to her sensitive breasts, she gently tugged on her nipples, immediately feeling the zing throughout her body.

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