Nice Neighborhood Lady Part One
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My GirlsChapter 9 free porn video
Things were finally smoothing out with Cindi. She seemed to be happy again. She'd changed, however. Some of the changes were good, some not so much. On the good side, she was less shy than she used to be. I think our experiences together helped with that. She also developed a better sense of humor than she used to have. She was now able to give Amy as good as she got in the teasing department.
Previously, it was Amy that always teased her, and Cindi usually just looked at her somewhat blankly, as if she didn't understand. She was almost as smart as Amy; there was no possibility that she didn't understand. My suspicion was she always understood perfectly; this was just her way of getting back at Amy by acting dumb so she got no response. If I understood that, so did my little genius, so she just kept teasing. Now Cindi was showing she really did have a sense of humor. Fortunately, Amy was very good at taking teasing, but it sure shocked her the first few times it happened. The first time Cindi teased her and pulled a practical joke on her, Amy just sat there, stunned, but with a big smile on her face.
"Cindi! You did something funny! Wow! Did you think of that all by yourself, or did the big dork over there help you?" she asked, pointing at me.
"Ha! You know he would never help me to get at you, his FAVORITE!" Her smile took away all offense.
I thought to myself. 'WHO am I sleeping with?'
"Besides, someone in this family has to have a decent sense of humor!" she said as she stuck out her tongue at her sister. I left the room at that point - no way was I getting in the middle of that one. Good thing, too - from the shrieks coming from there, a massive tickling attack was going on.
The bad part was that she seemed nervous around boys, and she usually refused to go anywhere by herself, or stay home alone. Not that it was a problem - seldom did any of us go anywhere alone anyway, but it was the idea.
Amy and Cindi had always been close. After her ordeal, they were even closer. Much of this was due to Amy. She always had an uncanny way of telling what kind of mood people were in, and could read their emotions. Even before she knew what was happening with Cindi, she was trying her best to cheer her up, doing things for her, leaving her little presents where she could find them. Amy loved to help people, and she loved to help her family most of all. She felt guilty for a long time about the one time she blew up at Cindi when they were fighting. I finally convinced her that it was the catalyst for correcting the problem.
As I said, things were going smoothly. Of course, the laws of nature say that could not continue for long in a house full of teenagers. So, imagine my surprise when the next problem to greet us was from one of the adults in the family. And - it wasn't me!
One Friday evening I was fixing supper for Victoria and the girls for when got home (yes, she was actually in town!), when the phone rang.
Have you ever had the feeling when the phone rings that it was not good news? Maybe it's because the phone didn't ring that often - the girls usually got calls on their cell phones and were not home anyway, Victoria was always on her way home from work, and no one usually called me. Whatever the reason, somehow I just knew it wasn't good news...
It was the highway patrol informing me that Victoria had been in a car accident on the way home from work, and I needed to come to the hospital right away. The girls walked in as I answered the phone and knew immediately, I guess by my face, that something was wrong. I herded both of them into the car and took them to their grandparents. The girls wanted to go, but I said no. I had no idea what I would find there, didn't even know if we could see her - she might be in ICU. They wouldn't tell me anything over the phone; all I knew was that she was alive. Cindi was especially upset, of course, due to her recent experience with car accidents.
When I arrived at the hospital I found she was in a private room. She had been brought in semi-conscious, but was now just asleep and was expected to live and fully recover.
Since this was the hospital where I worked, I slipped on my white coat and had no problems getting in to see her. First I stopped by the nurse's station and sweet-talked one of the nurses into showing me her chart and the doctor's notes. One of the nurses was the mother of one of the older cheerleaders, not one in our particular close group, but she knew us. The chart verified that the injuries were due to a motor vehicle accident, according to the police that brought her in.
I was glad I had not brought the girls. She looked much worse than she was. Bruises, contusions, but no broken bones. Then I looked closer and went out in search of the doctor. I asked him what his findings were, and he stated pretty much what was in the chart.
I then asked him why her injuries were not consistent with a motor vehicle accident, but more consistent with assault. He frowned and said he put it down for a cause because that was what the police told him preliminary investigation showed. He added that two others had been brought in from the same accident, one DOA and the other in critical condition. I asked if their injuries were similar and was he was willing to come in and look her over again with me, but he just walked away.
As I sat in her room with nothing to do but watch her sleep, I was confused. What was going on? Then I remembered other instances where odd things happened in connection with Victoria's job that didn't make sense.
Victoria's job had always been a small sore point with me. Nothing major ... except I didn't know what she did for a living or whom she worked for. She was in the "service" part of the company and she was incredibly gifted at programming and fixing computers. I knew that because I was good at it too, but she could make them sing.
She traveled a lot, all over the country, many times on last minute notice. This actually worked out well for the girls, because on occasions when she went to a neat place and she felt the workload would allow it, she would take one of the girls with her for a few days. They loved it. However, every time it came up as to whom she worked for or what exactly she did, I got a change of subject or an evasive, non-informative answer.
Like I said, it wasn't a major thing, but after 15 years of marriage, I thought I ought to know what my wife did for a living. What made no sense was that Victoria had always been an open book to me - she never lied to me, at least as far as I knew. It bothered me that I was now saying, "as far as I knew". A couple incidents in our life together did have me wondering what it was that she did.
The first incident had occurred two years earlier, when the girls were 11 years old. It also should have shown me, had I paid attention and caught the significance of it, just how special out little girls were.
Two years ago
Victoria had a trip, planned this time, to go to San Francisco for a few days. It was Cindi's turn to go with her, and Victoria thought she'd have enough downtime to really do some neat stuff with her. Amy was a little put out that she wasn't going, but I reminded her that she had gone last time and the two of them together were too wild for Mom to handle alone. That earned me a stuck out tongue and a pillow upside the head when I looked away.
A week before the trip, plans changed dramatically. Victoria's schedule in San Francisco was changed such that there were times when Cindi would have to be alone in a hotel room in the evening, and possibly at night. Neither of us were comfortable with that, so we decided Cindi would not go.
She was devastated. Amy tried her best to console her, saying they would have me all to themselves. Nice try, Amy, but that happened all the time anyway. I offered to take her to an amusement park to compensate. Amy even offered to let her have the next two trips, giving up her own turn, but none of it helped. Cindi understood and wasn't trying to be a pain; she was just so disappointed. They not only looked forward to these trips to neat places, but also the opportunity to spend some time alone with Mom.
That night the girls were at Rebecca's house for a sleepover with most of the cheerleading crew (wow! Not at our house for a change), so Victoria and I had the house to ourselves.
We made good use of the time alone; a nice romantic candlelight dinner and one of the sappy chick flicks that she just loves to watch (ok, I like them too, and it does set the mood for later!), then retired to the bedroom for a night by ourselves. After I slowly undressed her, kissing every inch of her body as I did it, I asked if she wanted a massage. She squealed and giggled like a little girl (NOW you know where they get it) and dived onto the bed. She loves massages. I got out the oil and proceeded to rub her entire body to relax her.
Of course, some of the areas I rubbed did not exactly relax her, but that's ok. We finally ended up in a wonderful 69; I sucked her clit and stuck my tongue as far up into her pussy as I could, while she swallowed my entire cock into her mouth. We ended up with her on her stomach and me on her back, taking her from behind, with our hands intertwined together as I sensuously kissed her neck. One of her favorite positions. Having been married for 11 years and having sex for almost thirteen, we're usually able to time our orgasms together, and this night was no exception. About ten minutes later, as we were catching our breath, the phone rang.
We both looked at each other and laughed. We knew what was coming, so we both picked up a phone, and said in unison "What is it, girls?" That was greeted with peals of laughter and lots of giggles as Amy and Cindi laughed their butts off. We never could figure out how they knew when we were done, but it never failed. I even checked the room one time for cameras and bugs (just as a joke, not that I expected to find them) but no, they had some other way of knowing. We never asked them, because we didn't want to ruin their fun.
As we were talking, Amy asked Cindi to go get her another soda. While Cindi was out of the room, Amy suggested that I get time off work and we could all go to San Francisco together! What a great idea, and what a delightful child for thinking of it, just to make her sister happy. She asked us not to mention it to Cindi as she wanted it to be a surprise.
Well, it worked out just fine. The squeals of delight, ear piercing as they were, while they hugged each other and jumped up and down in the middle of the room when Cindi found out that, not only was the trip back on, but Amy was going too, made it all worth it.
A week later we were on our way to San Francisco. The one odd thing was that the accommodations were going to be a little strange. Another company was now paying for Victoria's room, so she could not have anyone else staying with her. No problem - I rented another room for the girls and me in the same hotel. Because there was a big convention at the hotel, the rooms were on opposite ends of the floor, but we did not plan on the girls spending much time alone anyway with both of us there.
Things went wonderfully. We saw the sights, the girls got to shop ad nauseum, and Victoria and I even got some alone time while the girls watched TV in the other room. Everything was fine until the last night.
Victoria had to work late that night, finishing up, so I was in my room with the girls. We watched a movie, then the girls went to bed so they could get an early start the next morning (those two get up early? Ha!).
I was reading a book when both girls almost simultaneously yelled, "Daddy!" Before I could respond, both of them came running in, looks of fright on their faces and their hair all askew - they had obviously been asleep.
When Cindi cried out, "Daddy, Mommy's in trouble!" I told them they had just had a bad dream.
Cindi was in tears. They glanced at each other and then ran up to me. Amy took my hands in hers, looked up at me and said very calmly, "Daddy, Mommy really is in trouble."
The hair stood up on the back of my neck - when Amy says things and uses that tone I always listen - she is usually always right and she does not get flustered easily.
I asked them how they knew; they hesitated, and said they had a dream.
Both of them? At the same time? Amy looked me straight in the eyes, her large green eyes full of worry.
"Please, Daddy, Mommy is in trouble and she needs you. In her room."
I told them not to open the door for anyone, even if it was me - I would use my key. Cindi was crying and Amy told me to be careful. I raced down the hall to her room.
The door was open and there were cops everywhere. Victoria was leaning against the wall in the hall, down from the room, talking to one of the police officers. She had a couple of rips in her clothes and a bruise on her face. I glanced into the room as I passed and saw two men, well dressed in suits, lying on the floor.
Victoria saw me, gave me a small, tired little smile and said something to the police officer she was talking to. He beckoned me over and she hugged me tightly.
I asked her what happened. The police officer stopped her from answering. They had to take her statement before she talked to anyone.
He arranged for a police car to take me down to the station and a female police officer to stay with the girls while I was gone. I didn't understand why I couldn't in the car with her, but for some reason it was not an option.
The girls were more composed when I got back to the room. Amy said, "She's ok". I told her yes, not realizing until much later that it was a statement, not a question.
When I arrived at the station, they let me see Victoria for a few minutes to verify she was ok. She then disappeared into an interview room. I didn't like how this was going, the lack of information and the hush-hush way they were handling this.
I went in search of a colleague who worked there, a guy I worked with when I was in law enforcement. We knew each other by sight, but I couldn't remember his last name and I doubt he knew mine. We never kept in touch, so he was unaware I was no longer in that field.
I mentioned that a friend of mine was involved in an incident that might be connected to something I was working on. When I mentioned her name, he looked it up and said there was no such case.
Then for some reason I gave him Victoria's unmarried name and there was a case being worked on under that name.
What the hell?
A police report was still in the process of being filed, but the notes filed by the officers in the field were available. They were very interesting reading.
Victoria and I spent most of the night at the station. Before we left I got a preliminary copy of the police report from my acquaintance, after assuring him it would not get him in any trouble. When the cops dropped us off at the hotel, all her stuff had been moved to my room, and I insisted she stay there for the night.
She wasn't eager to talk much, but I got a quickie update on what had happened. She had come to her room, opened the door, two men ran out, one hitting her in the head on the way out, knocking her into something that tore her clothes, and that was it. Nothing taken, no one hurt, no big deal. Let's go to bed.
While she took a shower, I sat down and read the police report. Then I sat back, stunned.
Victoria had lied to me!
I was shocked. The one thing I was sure of was that we never lied to each other. Maybe we didn't tell each other everything or left out details, but not bald-faced lies. The police report collaborated her account to a tee, even using much the same words, and it was also now under her married name.
The officer's notes from the scene told a completely different story. It was listed under her maiden name. There were two bodies in the room both dressed in suits. There were signs, both on the bodies and in the room, of a fight. Three different caliber of silenced guns, since no shots were heard, had been fired in the room, one a .25 caliber. A woman's gun made for a purse.
Burglars usually don't carry guns, nor do they wear suits or fire on a lone woman interrupting a burglary. They don't carry three guns, one a .25 caliber that was not found at the scene.
And why was Victoria using her unmarried name? That name was not on the hotel registry or airline tickets, I was sure. But then, had I ever seen those? That was one detail I forgot to check out.
I didn't sleep very well that night; neither did Victoria. She tossed, turned, had nightmares, moaned and cried out a lot. We went home the next day.
When we talked about it later, Victoria's account still followed the police report. She had no idea I had seen the bodies, the police report and the officer's notes. She didn't know I knew she was lying.
I never did get any resolution on what really happened. In all the turmoil in my mind as to what had happened, I completely forgot about the "dream" the girls had. Weeks later, when she was in the shower, I looked in her purse. There, in a small pocket in the bottom, was a .25 caliber Beretta. And a small silencer.
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