Applejack

Copyright © 2007 by Robert L. Bailey

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording,

taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents,

organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

ISBN-13: 978-0-595-42759-8 (pbk)

ISBN-13: 978-0-595-68127-3 (cloth)

ISBN-13: 978-0-595-87089-9 (ebk)

ISBN-10: 0-595-42759-6 (pbk)

ISBN-10: 0-595-68127-1 (cloth)

ISBN-10: 0-595-87089-9 (ebk)

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

This novel is

dedicated to my loving wife

Linda Bailey

Applejack-

Brandy distilled from fermented apple cider.

The OXFORD Desk Dictionary and Thesaurus

CHAPTER 1

It was almost daybreak when the siren on the fire truck broke the still of the morning, the warning sound shrill and piercing, reverberating off the houses along West Davis Street. The lone occupant in the back bedroom of the house at 402 West Davis pulled the covers off his face and wondered what was going on. He could see the red strobe light flashing against the frosted glass of the bedroom window. That’s awful damn close, he figured.

He reluctantly threw off the blankets and went to the window. Hell, it’s next door. He found his jeans on the floor, hurriedly pulled on socks, boots and a sweatshirt over his head as he left the bedroom. He grabbed up his coat and went out the front door. He slipped on the icy porch steps and nearly fell down. Holy shit, he said as he stared at the flames breaking through the roof of the house next door. Fully involved, was the terminology that came to mind.

Firemen were dragging hoses from the truck, one of them hooking a hose to the fire hydrant across the street. He could hear another siren off up the street a ways. Has to be another fire truck. Two women stood in the driveway of the property next door, watching their house go up in flames. It was hard to tell with their backs to him but he guessed one was the mother the other her daughter. The older woman was short and heavy set, the daughter taller and slender. They were standing in the freezing cold in their nightclothes.

He hurried back inside the house and pulled a blanket from the back of the couch. He struggled through the deep snow in the yard and came up behind them on the drive.

You’re going to freeze out here, he said draping the blanket over their shoulders. They turned to look at him, grabbing the blanket and pulling it around them.

How did it get started? he said.

Damned if I know, the mother said. I woke up with the smoke alarm screaming and went to Ellie’s room. She was sound asleep. Had one hell of a time getting her up and out of there. We’re losing everything. I got two hundred bucks in my purse in there, not to mention all my clothes and the furniture and my keepsakes.

You live over there? the daughter asked him, pointing to his house.

Yea, I just moved in, he said.

Can we come over and get inside. My feet are froze clean through, she said.

Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t think of that. You’re both barefooted, he said.

He grabbed the daughter up in his arms and carried her back through the snow then put her down on the front porch. He went back for the mother and as she protested, grabbed her up and carried her back to the porch as well.

You’re mighty damned strong kid, carrying all this fat, she said as he put her down.

Come inside, he said, opening the door. You can watch from the window.

He followed them in then shut the door. He pulled back the window drapes then stepped out of the way as they moved where they could see.

What’s your name son? the mother asked him.

Eric Stone, he responded.

I’m Margaret Kraig and this is my girl Ellie. I moved into that old house the day I was married. Wasn’t much older than my little girl here. Such a waste, she said and the tears started.

Ellie grabbed her mother and hugged her. Eric was moved by the affection.

I’ll make some coffee. Might help warm you, he said.

He headed for the kitchen then stopped by the thermostat on the wall. Christ, its not even sixty in here he thought. He turned up the heat then went to make the coffee. He found his cigarettes in the bedroom and headed for the front room. Mrs. Kraig was on the couch and Ellie was on a chair she had pulled over to the window. Her mother had a housecoat over her long flannel nightgown. Ellie wore a faded sweatshirt that barely reached her waist, leaving her navel exposed just above her red panties. Eric was surprised by the lack of modesty yet pleased at the same time.

Coffee smells good, Mrs. Kraig said.

I’ll bring it in here, he said.

No, we’ll come out to the kitchen. I’m sick of looking at the place go up in smoke, Mrs. Kraig said.

Eric poured the coffee and put a cup in front of the women.

You wouldn’t have any liquor around here? Mrs. Kraig said.

Well now I don’t know. I rented the place like you see it. Not much had been moved out. The old guy who lived here went to a nursing home. Let me check, Eric said.

Walter Skimmer is his name. Been our neighbor for years. He did take a shot now and then. Try that cupboard, Mrs. Kraig said, pointing behind him.

Eric found a bottle of Jack Daniels and a quart of Southern Comfort. He put the bottles on the table and took his cigarettes from his pocket. Mrs. Kraig laced her coffee with a healthy amount of booze then picked up the cup.

Can I bum a smoke? Ellie said.

Sure, Eric responded, handing her the pack then lit her cigarette.

Half an hour and two cups of whisky laced coffee later a fireman came knocking at the door, looking for the Kraigs. Eric followed them to the front door and let the fireman in. He told them they had the fire contained and were picking up their hoses. He said one truck would stay for a time to make sure it was out. He expressed his regrets for their loss and told them someone would have to examine the ruins when they cooled to make a report on the cause. Eric offered him coffee but he said they had plenty outside. Mrs. Kraig thanked him and said she would be in touch.

Ellie, use this boys phone and call your Aunt Agnes. Tell her what happened and see if I can borrow something to wear. I need to get to work, Mrs. Kraig said.

Ma, you can surely miss one day. It’s not often you get burned out like this, Ellie said.

Best to get busy. I sit around very long I’ll be crying like a baby again and drink up all this nice young man’s bourbon. Go on call her now. Can I use your bathroom? she said.

Anything you need Mrs. Kraig. You’re welcome to stay here until you figure out what you’re going to do, Eric responded.

May take you up on that, at least for one night. My sister Agnes lives over on Market Street. Just her alone in that old big house. She and I don’t see eye to eye but I know she will put us up for the short run, oh and everyone calls me Maggie. You call me Maggie now, she said.

Well Maggie, I think there are some clean towels in there if you want a hot bath. How about something to eat? he said.

You might have to feed my girl here but I work in that restaurant out on 71. I could miss a meal or two anyway, Maggie said.

Eric showed her the bathroom then went to the kitchen to make another pot of coffee. Ellie came up behind him, reached her arms around his shoulders and moved in close to hug him. He almost dropped the coffee pot when he felt her chest tight against his back and her stomach touching his butt. Her cheek was just below his neck and he felt the tears soaking into his shirt. He turned to her, pulled her close and she softly cried against his chest.

I’m sorry you lost everything but you got out okay. You both could have been burned alive or died from smoke inhalation, he said. He felt himself stirring in his jeans. He was reluctant to break off the hug but knew if he didn’t she would soon detect what was growing. He stepped back and looked down into her eyes.

You want to call your aunt now? he said.

Oh yea, she said.

He showed her the phone in the kitchen then went back to the front room and looked across the driveway. The house was just a pile of charred rubble, with wisps of smoke swirling around in the frigid air. He looked at his watch and found it was seven thirty. Hell, this is Saturday and I planned on staying home today anyway. He lit a cigarette as Ellie came to the window.

Agnes will be over soon. She said she doesn’t have a lot for me to wear but will bring something. Mom will fit right into her clothes. Her sister is about the same size, Ellie said.

If you want to clean up when your mother is done I can find some jeans and a shirt that might do until you get something better, he said.

Great. I hesitate to keep begging smokes, she said.

Come on, he said, taking her to the kitchen where he took a carton of cigarettes from a cupboard drawer, handed her a pack then found a book of matches. She poured another cup of coffee and pulled a chair back to sit down. Eric poured more coffee and leaned back against the counter. Oh boy, he thought, looking at Ellie with her legs spread apart and the sweat shirt covering none of her very thin, see through panties. He was growing again. He moved to a chair across the table and sat down. Maggie came to the kitchen in her nightgown and housecoat, her hair wet from the shower. She poured some coffee, laced it with whisky and sat down.

What do you do for a living? Maggie said.

I’m an attorney.

Oh hell, you ain’t old enough to be an attorney, Maggie responded.

Just starting. I rented an office upstairs above Reese’s Hardware across from the courthouse, he said.

Where you from?

I guess you could say Omaha, he said.

Your folks live up there? Ellie said.

You girls from Savannah? he said, ignoring the last question

I’m from south of Kansas City on a farm. Ellie was born here, she said.

They heard someone beating on the front door. Eric went to see who was there and came back with a short heavyset woman who had to be a twin to Maggie.

One hell of mess Maggie. What happened over there? Agnes Walker said.

Don’t have any idea. Firemen said it started in the attic. Said they would look for a cause later, Maggie responded.

Well you’re damn lucky to get out. You got any insurance? Agnes said.

Hell yes, plenty. We need to call the insurance agent Ellie. What’d you bring me? Maggie said.

Filled a suitcase here. Didn’t have much for your girl though, Agnes said.

I need to get going, Maggie said. You drive me over?

Yea. I brought along an old coat of mine. I was thinking you have nothing left. You need to get that insurance and get some shopping done, Agnes said.

Bring the clothes, Maggie said, leaving the table.

Let’s check out my bedroom, Eric told Ellie.

She followed him down the short hallway and they looked through his closet. She settled on a clean sweatshirt and said she would try a pair of his jeans that he thought were a little tight for him. He found some clean socks and picked up an old pair of his running shoes. She took the clothes and headed for the bathroom. She met Maggie and her aunt heading for the front door.

I’ll stay here with Eric for now. I’ll come to the café later, Ellie said.

How you going to do that, your car is in the shop, her mother said.

Damn. I’ll call and see if it’s done yet, Ellie said.

I’ll take you where you want to go. I’m off for the day, Eric said.

Call that insurance guy now, Maggie said then followed her sister out the door.

You hungry? Eric asked her when they were gone.

Starved. What have you got?

I’ll find something. Go ahead and clean up.

Eric followed her back to the bathroom to see if there was a clean bath towel for her. He took one down from the cupboard and turned to hand it to her as she grabbed the bottom of the sweatshirt and pulled it up over her head. He froze in place, his eyes locked on her full, firm breasts as they rose with the movement of her arms. She was hooking her fingers in the waistband of the panties when he broke loose from his stupor and sidestepped around her.

What? she said, seeing the red flush in his cheeks. Oh yea, sorry. Us Kraigs aren’t much for modesty. We tend to be a little free spirited.

Eric stopped in the doorway and turned back toward her. She was naked, her red panties a pile around her feet. She bent over to pick them up, her breasts hanging.

You certainly are, not that I mind. You have a beautiful body, he said.

You think? I really need a couple pounds off these hips, she said, moving both hands to her hips then slid the palm of her hand over her stomach as she watched his reaction. His breath was ragged and shallow, the flush getting a deeper red across his face. She took a step to him, wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. She tilted her head back and smiled.

A choice to be made flashed through his mind at her invitation. He lowered his head, his lips finding hers. She moaned as they fit together and his hands went around her waist, pulling her up tight. She could feel him grow against her stomach as she forced his mouth open with her tongue and moaned again when his tongue seemed to set off sparks of electricity against her moist tongue. His hands went down to the cheeks of her butt and she moaned again. She slid her hand between them, finding his growing bulge under his jeans. She squeezed him and pressed harder with her lips. She felt his arms go around her then she was lifted up and carried to the bedroom. He put her down on the bed, closed the door and started unbuttoning his shirt. She lay on her side watching.

Hmmm, you are something to see, she said. She came up on her knees and reached for him, running her hands across his chest, rubbing his muscular pecks with the palms of her hands. When his erection was free of the shorts she grabbed on, squeezed and then fell back, pulling him along up onto the bed.

She was flat on her back now, working her hand over his throbbing hard on. She spread her legs wide and pulled him close.

Slow and easy now, she said, her voice thick with passion. You’ll know when to hurry.

He buried it deep and leaned down close, his cheek tight against her cheek.

That’s the way, slow and smooth and easy. Oh, that’s nice, she whispered into his ear.

His strokes were slow and steady then became faster as his need grew. He was soon slamming into her, making the bed protest each time he thrust. She was matching his rhythm now, meeting him each time he went deep. She exploded when he did.

Don’t stop yet. Let it come down slow, yes like that. You are still so hard and I want more, she said.

Eric rolled off her and lay down on his side. She turned on her side to look at him.

Told you my people were wild. You have as much fun as me? she said.

Oh yea. You know how to turn me on.

Course. I’ve had a little practice. Someone as good as you starts my flame right away. I got the hots for you first sight. I was frantic wondering how to get you alone but knew I’d get you one way or the other. I figured I startled you some being so brazen but that’s how I get what I want. Some folks beat around the bush for days without getting naked. I can’t wait for days when I see someone like you. You had some moves yourself so I don’t figure it was your first time, Ellie said.

You hungry? Eric asked her as he touched her breast with one finger than ran it down over her stomach.

She took the back of his hand and shoved it down between her legs. She rubbed his fingers through the moist, thick hair as her lips found his. The kiss was hard and passionate, both working their mouths for the thrill of the contact. She broke free and pushed on his chest, wanting him on his back. She moved over him her knees digging into the mattress. She guided him as she settled down, a warm flush of pleasure spreading across her face.

You won’t think you can get there again so soon but I know you can. You just lie still and let me make it happen, she said.

He slipped his hands behind his head and focused on her perfectly formed breasts as they rose and fell with the movement of her hips. He could feel her hair rubbing tightly against him and knew she was getting a wild thrill by the pressure on her clit. Her motion increased as she became more excited. His hands went for her breast, circling them, feeling them, teasing the nipples. He could feel her drawing him up, starting the wild thrill that would build to such pleasure. She opened her eyes and smiled at him when she felt him explode up into her. She kept moving until she knew he was spent then collapsed on his chest. His hands went to her head, his fingers running through her hair.

Neither spoke for some time. Eric thought she might have gone to sleep. She lifted up off him and rolled off the bed. He watched her bare butt as she went through the door and to the bathroom. He heard the shower running so he left the bed and went to join her. It wasn’t long before he got it for the first time standing up.

CHAPTER 2

The Kraig women stayed the night then moved in with Aunt Agnes. Eric fed them breakfast then drove them across town. He filled his old pick up with gas then drove down to the square, parking in front of the hardware store. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and unlocked his office. He went to his desk, positioned right in front of the large windows over looking the square below, sat down in the chair and leaned back. He lit a cigarette and spun the chair around to look outside.

Well Eric, you now have an office, you’re a newly certified member of the bar and you have a place to live. All you need now is some clients, he said aloud. Oh, and you have recently been laid by an experienced woman who definitely knew what she was doing.

He leaned back; closing his eyes, thinking about Ellie and almost fell out of the chair when the phone on the desk rang. He spun the chair around and grabbed it.

Hello.

Mr. Stone, Eric Stone?

Yea, this is Stone.

I’m sorry to bother you on Sunday but it seems like a good time to check with you and see if you would consider having lunch with me. This is Arthur Graham, the man on the phone told him.

Of Graham, Wilson and Green? Eric said.

That’s me. My wife is away visiting her mother and I thought we might get something to eat at the club, Arthur said.

Why not. You want me to meet you there? Eric responded.

If you could, say about twelve?

Fine, see you then, Eric told him then put the phone down.

He found a new cigarette and sat there, wondering what the senior partner of the most successful law firm in six counties wanted with him.

Eric parked in the lot at the country club a few minutes before twelve and headed for the building. He found Arthur Graham in the dining room. Graham left his chair and extended his hand.

Welcome to Savannah Mr. Stone. Please sit and we’ll get something to eat, he said.

A waitress appeared beside Arthur as he sat back down. She handed him a menu then placed one in front of Eric.

I won’t need that dear, Arthur told the waitress. You have the best roast beef in the state here on Sundays. I’ll have the roast beef dinner and would you please refill my drink?

I’ll have the same and a cold bottle of Coors, Eric said.

Arthur sat looking at Eric for a few moments then picked up his drink.

Forgive me for staring but I’m trying to determine if you fit what I’ve recently learned of you. You’re wondering what could I possible want with you. Some of what I tell you will be a little discerning but in the whole I think you will be pleased. Where to start? I have been looking for you for the past two weeks. I was totally surprised when I found out you had just moved here to start a new legal practice. Dumbfounded is a better word, Arthur said.

You’ve been looking for me? Eric responded.

"Yes. My firm has been handling the affairs of one Genevieve Stewart for several years. Miss Stewart recently passed on and we filed for probate of her estate. Now I never knew Miss Stewart personally as Ben Green, one of the partners, took care of what little legal assistance she needed. Ben passed away a couple years back so we had little to work with to settle Miss Stewart’s affairs. Fortunately we still have a secretary in the firm who did old Ben’s work. She was somewhat knowledgeable of Genevieve Stewart and was present when her will was drawn up.

Miss Stewart was a teacher down in St. Joseph for most of her life. She never married and at first we thought had no family but we did find out that she had a nephew. That would be you," Arthur said.

Hold on there. You’re saying I had an Aunt Genevieve. If you know anything at all about me it’s that I have no knowledge of any family. I know absolutely nothing about my parents and was raised in the Boy’s Town orphanage in Omaha, Eric said.

We received that information from Mrs. Canbury, our employee who did Ben Green’s work. She told us that during the meeting with Ben when Miss Stewart’s will was drawn up she spoke of a nephew, her sister’s boy. She said her sister gave birth to the boy late in life and as it turned out should not have tried to have a baby. She had a weak heart and never got out of the hospital. She was in her late forties when she died. Our research finds you to be the sole heir of Genevieve Stewart’s estate. We have just begun the inventory of her assets and liabilities. First glance tells me there will probably be enough to pay her obligations but I don’t see how she had all that much except her property. She lived in a very nice old house sitting on four acres, surrounded by a very good stand of trees, he said.

The waitress brought the meal. Eric had finished his beer but now needed something stronger. He asked for a whisky sour and sat looking across the table at Arthur who was cutting his roast beef.

If you know about an aunt of mine then you know about my mother? Eric said.

Not as much as you would like I’m afraid. Your late aunt’s conversations witnessed by Mrs. Canbury put us on to Boy’s Town. We sent a representative of the firm up there. The records are confidential but we did confirm that you were placed there after the death of your mother. Her name at the time was given as Helen Stone. This may have been taken from your father, the stone name that is, or she could have just assumed it. Well, after our man explained why we were looking for you they put us on to where you went to college and then to law school. One of your professors put us on to you down here, he said.

I was told about my mother and when she died but never found out anything about my father and certainly not that I had an aunt. Why is it you suppose she never had any contact with me over all the years I spent in Omaha? Eric said.

I’m sorry but as I said we didn’t have much contact with your aunt. Try that roast beef. It is exceptional. I trust I haven’t ruined your meal with what I’ve revealed to you, Arthur said.

No problem. I accepted the fact that I was alone without a family years ago. The professor from law school you talked to. I’ll bet it was Brady Duncan, Eric said.

Why yes, I believe that was the name on the report. Tell me, what made you choose Savannah to open your practice? Arthur said.

"Professor Duncan. He spoke of this place many times. I was going to try for a job with a large established firm in Kansas City