Sophie's Pleasure Read online

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Sophie’s Pleasure

  ISBN # 978-0-85715-013-4

  ©Copyright Patricia Pellicane 2010

  Cover Art by Natalie Winters ©Copyright January 2010

  Edited by Michele Paulin

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road

  , Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

  SOPHIE’S PLEASURE

  Patricia Pellicane

  Dedication

  To numbers 13, 14 and 15, Emelia, Juliette and Sophia, welcome to the clan

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmark mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Toyota: Toyota Jidosha Kabushiki Kaisha (Toyota Motor Corporation)

  Chapter One

  A narrow, three-storied, Queen Anne style Victorian, beautifully appointed in earthen tones of muddy brown and hunter green with a splash of sienna red sat between two huge modern homes. One block north of Babylon’s Main Street, the tiny Victorian was characterised by gables with yards of gingerbread trim, a turret and spire, plus a bewildering excess of banisters, spindles and a covered porch accented with still more gingerbread trim.

  Inside, Sophie waited at her kitchen table. Sparkling clean, the room boasted of every modern appliance yet it somehow managed to instil an old world charm, with an oversized, scarred and much-scrubbed oak table and high-backed chairs. Red-plaid cushions and curtains as well as a matching, upholstered window seat added a delicate pink hue to the room as the sun tried to penetrate the fabric. The delicious aroma of fresh coffee and cinnamon buns infused the senses. The entire house, with its shining wood floors dotted with colourful rugs and softly polished wood walls put any who entered immediately at ease.

  Her brother-in-law, Jake, made himself comfortable at her left. To her right sat Joe Palermo, Jake’s newest partner. Jake’s last partner had retired two months ago. Both were detectives with the Suffolk County Police. Andy Roscoe, a uniformed officer, stood near the door. Jake was married to her sister, and she’d known Joe and Andy for most of her life. She had gone to school with them and had, for a short time, dated Joe while still in high school.

  Her mother busied herself at the counter, filling huge, colourful mugs with coffee and a plate with hot sticky buns. “Smells delicious, Mom,” Jake said as Marie Russo brought the snack and coffee to the table.

  A moment later, Jake placed a manila envelope on the table near Sophie. Inside was an article of clothing belonging to a missing girl. Sophie looked at the envelope as if it were a snake. She didn’t want to touch it. She didn’t want to know for sure. But the truth of it was she didn’t have to touch it. She already knew.

  This wasn’t the first time she’d worked with the police. The last time was six months ago when a young girl had gone missing at the mall. Sophie had given Jake a location to search. Partly due to her efforts, the girl was found that night, abused but thank God alive and wandering the desolate sand dunes near Southampton, miles from her home.

  “Sophie,” Joe said in greeting then glanced towards the package that lay between them. “Jake thinks you might be able to help.”

  She smiled at the obvious doubt in his voice. “But you don’t think so.”

  Joe shrugged. “I’ve known you since we were kids. It’s a little hard to believe you’ve suddenly gained magical powers.”

  “Not magic.”

  “All right, psychic then. Since when? And how come I’ve never heard of it?”

  “You never heard about it because we were young, and I never mentioned it. Kids don’t want to be different.”

  Joe nodded his understanding even as Andy approached the table and sat at the farthest end. He snorted a sound of disbelief and muttered “Psychic,” in outright ridicule.

  Sophie turned her attention to the smallest of the three men and smiled in return. “And how have you been, Andy?” She didn’t wait for a response but went on with, “Here’s an idea. Heidi wants to visit her mother’s place this fall, right? But you promised the guys the use of your father-in-law’s shack for hunting.” She shook her head. “You really should have gotten his okay on that first, especially since the guys think the cabin belongs to you.” She shrugged aside his lack of honesty, knowing everyone of his acquaintance believed he owned the shack and continued on with, “So, why not drop her off on the way. This way everybody’s happy, except for Stephanie, of course. She’s been nagging you for that trip to Bermuda. And Trudy…sometimes it’s hard to imagine how you fit them all in. Lately, you’ve been wondering how to break it off with her. Careful of that one. She’s got a nasty temper. Watch the mail. She’ll send your wife some incriminating souvenirs. Oh and one more thing. Stephanie’s pregnant again, only this time she won’t have an abortion.”

  Sophie leant back in her chair and played with the teaspoon her mother had placed beside her cup. When she brought her gaze from the table to Andy again, his face was redder than the ruby silk blouse she wore.

  “You know Babylon is a pretty big town, but it’s not that big. You might think about being a bit more careful. If Heidi found out…” She left the sentence unfinished, for everyone knew what would happen should his wife find out about Stephanie or Trudy. Heidi’s family had more than a bit of money—money Andy found it necessary to borrow on a regular basis in order to keep his mistresses happy. And Sophie hadn’t a doubt his wife was about to find out, despite the man’s excellent ability to lie. His good times on his wife’s money were almost over.

  Joe smiled and leant back comfortably in his chair. “That was good,” he said as if she’d just performed an extraordinary parlour trick. “But anyone who knows Andy could have told you as much.”

  Sophie grinned. “Supposing I was interested in knowing Andy, you mean, and anyone except for Stephanie, Heidi and Trudy, of course.”

  Sophie lost her smile as she glanced again at the object in question. She sighed as she leant forward, took a deep fortifying breath and reached for the small package. The moment her hand touched the paper dozens of emotions, sounds and pictures careened through her almost at once. The shock of it nearly took her breath away. She couldn’t hold back a low groan as they jumbled one upon another until nothing showed itself clearly. She breathed deeply, pushing aside her fear. It was impossible to make out anything as emotion rushed through her mind like a hurricane of sounds, sights and feelings. It took a long moment before the sounds, screams, laughter, terror and cries of pain separated.

  Sophie kept her gaze on the small brown envelope and smiled as a scene, like a clear picture centred in a
frame of fog, played out before her. She saw the mother laughing and the little girl jumping with excitement on the day she’d gotten the pink tights. She saw the girl twirling around the living room, showing them to her daddy. “She’s dancing telling her father, ‘Watch me dance, Daddy’. She’s laughing.”

  Her voice broke with emotion as suddenly something like a fist tightened around her throat. Sophie placed her own hand there as if to ease the pressure. “A man is watching. I see a baseball cap. He’s in the shadows. People are rushing. Some are late. They’re in a big building. Lots of windows. Lots of lights.” She shook her head. “A school maybe.”

  “Noise. Kids yelling. Little kids are everywhere. They’re laughing, calling out for one another. Mothers are putting last minute touches to makeup. Someone, a teacher I think, is trying to get them into lines. Her mother kissed her for good luck and promised to meet her right there after the play was over.

  “And then her mother was gone, and he was there. He stood by the door wearing his cap. He touched her arm. She looked up.

  “‘I lost my puppy’, he said. Oh my God.” Sophie shuddered, knowing the coming pain and helpless but to allow it. “‘Did you see him’ he asked?”

  Sophie closed her eyes against the darkness, the cold and fear. A thin scream came then tearing pain. She was afraid. She wanted her mommy. Please don’t hurt me anymore. Sophie shuddered again. God, she didn’t want to see him hurt her. She didn’t want to know this.

  Sophie’s entire body vibrated. She couldn’t stop it. “Pink leotards, they’re torn, stained with mud and blood.” She took a deep breath trying to dispel the worst of the horror. “You found them near the railroad yard by John Street

  .” She sighed unhappily. “He threw them from his truck as he went by. You’ve checked the DNA. You know they’re hers.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep steadying breath as she listened to the sounds of bubbling water and said all too softly, “She’s not hurting anymore.”

  Jake cursed.

  “He left her near water. It moves softly…like a stream maybe. She’s in woods, thick woods, but it’s a tiny area. Tracks on one side, cars on the other. They’re close by. A sign says twenty miles per hour. I hear children laughing.”

  Sophie sighed again. Her voice broke as tears threatened. She leant back, exhausted. “That’s all I see.”

  Jake leant forward. “The man, can you describe him?’

  She shook her head. “He’s not terribly clear. Like I said, he was wearing a baseball cap. New York Yankees. He was wearing a dark jacket. Green, I think. He drives a pick-up. Not American and not new. Dirty. He has light hair, wears it long, straggly or in a ponytail. He has pock-marked skin. I only got the slightest glance of the side of his face. His hands are dirty, his nails filthy. I saw them when he touched her shoulder.”

  “Grease? Oil?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. Something. You’ll find some of it on her.” She looked at the brown envelope. “And on her tights.”

  Sophie wished she could tell them more, and perhaps, she would. Sometimes, pictures came later. She had no control over where or when. Right now, she was ready to collapse. Maria stood and motioned towards the men. It was time to leave. “She’s tired. This always exhausts her.”

  All three men nodded and, moments later, silently left the house.

  * * * *

  Early the next day, before Sophie left to open her shop, Jake came with a stack of photos. They sat at her kitchen table again. She shook her head as he placed them before her. “Turn them over. I don’t want to see the faces.”

  Jake did as she asked and spread them over her table. Then, slowly, she ran her finger tips over each photo. She shook her head. “He’s not here. It’s possible that he’s never been in trouble before.”

  “Possible, but unlikely,” Jake returned. “His sort usually has a record starting from juvenile for stealing underwear or being a peeping tom or maybe exposing himself.”

  “He might have done all of that, but I don’t think he was ever caught. Maybe he’s new around here. Maybe he just moved here.”

  Jake sighed and gathered the photos.

  “Wait,” she said as she touched one of the photos, taking it from his hand. “It’s not him, but he has some kind of relationship with this one.”

  “What do you mean? What kind of relationship?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s related, maybe he’s a neighbour or works for him or with him.” She shook her head and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Does he look like this guy?”

  She shook her head again. “No. He’s about the same age, but no.” She never looked at the pictures yet she said, “This man has dark hair. The one you want is blond.” Jake glanced at the picture and grinned as he marked the back of it then slipped it into his pocket.

  * * * *

  “Do you read minds?”

  It was three days since Sophie had last seen him. She was busy in her little shop, ‘Sophie’s Treasures’, when the bell at her door jingled. She turned to find Joe Palermo walking towards her counter. She had to admit, the man was sexy. Maybe the sexiest she’d ever seen. He wasn’t only good looking, there was something more. Maybe it was an air of confidence, maybe experience, or something. She gave an almost imperceptible shrug. Whatever it was, it set him apart from most men. She’d been trying for three days to get him out of her mind and had almost managed just that. And now here he was strolling into her shop, about to cloud up her thinking again.

  At the moment, she was busy wrapping an Irish linen tablecloth and matching napkins. She folded the beautiful linen into a large box, but the attached huge silver ribbon and bow caused her a bit of trouble. “Put your finger here, will you? Press down,” she urged. “There we go,” she remarked as the bow tied tightly. “Pretty, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t stop looking at you.”

  Sophie smiled in appreciation. “You’re still very good, maybe even better than before.”

  “I’m older. I should be better.”

  She laughed. “You’re funnier, at least.” Her smile faded. “Have you heard anything?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing yet. I thought you might like to take a ride. Maybe you’d feel something if—”

  Sophie interrupted with a shake of her own head. She didn’t want to spend any appreciable time in his company. Not if she didn’t have to. The man was dangerous, and she definitely didn’t want to get involved. “It doesn’t work that way.”

  “It does on TV.”

  “Call someone from TV then,” she snapped.

  Joe grinned. “Wouldn’t be afraid of me, would you, Soph?”

  “Not afraid. Just careful.”

  Joe took a quick glance at the shelves surrounding the counter and the glass counter itself as well as the items in it. “What do you sell here?”

  “Collectables, antiques, everything from door-stoppers to glass vases and Victorian hair pins. Do you want to buy something?”

  “Maybe.” He looked around again. “What about my question? Do you read minds?”

  Sophie leaned against the counter and grinned. “I try not to. That would be impolite, don’t you think?”

  “And the other day with Andy?”

  “Oh that,” Sophie laughed. “Lord, the mess he’s gotten himself into just about jumped off him. It was shouting so loud anyone who looked at him would have known. And I couldn’t resist after his snotty remark.”

  Joe cleared his throat. “I was wondering.”

  “Yeah, I got that, too. You were wondering why we hadn’t continued dating.” And at his look of surprise, she said, “Sorry. It happens sometimes. Every so often, a fleeting thought…” she let the sentence dwindle down and offered a helpless shrug.

  “We should talk about it.”

  Sophie’s eyes widened along with her grin. “Should we? Why?”

  “Because you’re gorgeous, and I’d like to see you again.”


  “You want to know why we stopped dating? Remember when you told me you lost your grandfather’s pen, and I told you where you could find it?”

  Joe shook his head. “No, should I?”

  “I told you to ask Candy. I believe her full name was Candy Cane.” Sophie laughed at his pained look. “I was just a kid, Joe. I couldn’t take that kind of information in stride. You were too old for me. That’s why we stopped dating.”

  “Let me explain.”

  Sophie frowned. “You’re about to lie. Don’t.”

  He blinked twice before he returned, “I thought you said you don’t read minds.”

  “I don’t, but I know that tone of voice.”

  Joe grinned and Sophie’s heart gave a strange and unexpected little squeeze. God, he was gorgeous. She couldn’t help but wonder how much his mother had paid his orthodontist. The guy had done a magnificent job. “Think you’re smart, don’t you?”

  “Smart enough to spot a player when I see one. Smart enough to keep my distance.”

  “Well,” he shrugged, “there was a time, of course, but I’ve outgrown all that.”

  “What since yesterday?” Sophie nearly doubled over while clutching her middle in laughter. “The look on your face,” was the best she could manage between gusts of laughter that dwindled at last into soft giggles.

  “Wow, you’re tough.” He grinned. “For your information, we broke up yesterday. It’s been coming on for a long time. We’re both better off.”

  She shook her head gently. “You don’t want to get involved with me, Joe.”

  “I don’t? Why not?”

  “I’m not your type.”

  “And what type is that?”

  She grinned. “Does stripper ring a bell?”

 
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