jersey_tickler
2nd Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Sep 25, 2004
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Hello everyone, before I post the next chapter in the Haunted Mansion 2 part 12 thread, I thought I would share with you, a story that I've been working on in secret for two weeks now.
For all of you who enjoyed The Occult stories, you'll love this one for sure. Same with The Shrink and the Switch, there's some of that theme in this story as well. I remember Primetime telling me how much he loved my Occult series, and thought I would cook something up for him.
Warning though, the set up is kinda long, but I had to make this story as real in my mind as possible. So if you have to go to the bathroom, I'd suggest doing that, before reading.
Enjoy!!!
Lisa Malone sat in Smokey's Diner, enjoying the last remains of a light supper. She was thirty years old and a lawyer from Parker & Hanson, the second largest law firm in Boston. The young woman had received a phone call from her sister, Julie, about her nephew getting arrested for shooting a convenience store clerk. The nephew, Michael was on his way from California, because he had gotten accepted at Berkley, and was on his way home for spring break. Stopping for a burrito and soda at a convenience store in Elnora, Alabama, had made him a suspect for a shooting of the clerk. So Julie called Lisa to help get Michael out of jail, which she did immediately. Both sisters knew that Michael was inncent, he had a clean record and was overall a good boy. Needless to say, the case hadn't even gone to trial, because Lisa proved that there wasn't enough evidence to convict her nephew. Besides that, she also took photos of the store, where the assailant had broken glass on the door and cut his arm in the process. Since there was blood on the broken glass, it became easy evidence. With a quick DNA test, it proved that the blood was not Michael's and Lisa had won the case. Michael was free and had thanked his Aunt Lisa by hugging her repeatedly. Lisa was proud of herself, not just as a lawyer, but as a family person who got to help out the son of the woman who had supported her while attending law school. Now she was free to go back home and enjoy the rest of her vacation.
Needless to say she was glad to be leaving Alabama, too many of the men folk had scoffed at the idea of a Yankee female lawyer coming into their small town thinking she was going to beat their rockstair prosecuting attorney, who was nearly twice her age and the local hero who was famous for sending the guilty to prison. The joke was on them when she dazzled them with her city girl charm and Ivy League intelligence. They stood corrected when the prosecutor demissed all charges against Michael, and even applauded her victory.
The lawyer had gotten out of court by three and checked out of her motel by four. After an hour of driving, she had stopped to eat. Still clad in her black business suit, complete with a skirt that went down to above her knees, she also wore a burgundy silk blouse, which matched her burgundy colored stockings which went up over her kneecaps. Lisa liked wearing burgundy because it contrasted well with her long red hair which she normally had in a conservative bun when in the courtroom. But that was earlier today, and she was now off from work. Being able to run her fingers through her locks of red hair was the closest thing to a victory dance for the young lawyer. A pair of black high heels adorned her feet, which made her exactly six foot, in height. Lisa was 5'9' in her stocking feet, but the heels made her taller than most of the men in Endora. Having a tall stature made her feel not only professional but proud that she could be the exact height of her trial rival, who was six feet tall.
Cream of chicken soup, and a BLT on burnt whole wheat toast without mayo. This was the first diner she had stopped at which didn't serve bagels. Normally, Lisa ate BLTs with those instead of toast, something she and her sister had discovered when experimenting with food growing up. When Michael was little, she used to make him toasted bagels with peanut butter whenever she babysat him. His mother worked a lot and it gave her the chance to be cool Aunty Lisa and spoil the little tot. Now he was nineteen, and no longer the cute little tot. But she was still cool Aunt Lisa, and today's win in court was proof of that. After polishing off the last bites of her BLT, she washed them down with her second cup of coffee. Lisa needed caffiene to get more driving done before stopping at another motel to rest for the night. Tomorrow, if she made three pit stops, she could be home by five.
After paying the bill with her Master Card, Lisa walked out of the diner and towards her car. But the sound of young sobs from the phone boot made her high heels stop right in their tracks. Giving the booth a brief glance, she could see that the crying person was indeed female, and looked to be around Michael's age. She had long blonde hair in a ponytail, wore a denim jacket, a baby blue tee and dark blue jeans. Part of Lisa wanted to just walk away and continue her road trip. But another part of her was concerned that something was terribly wrong, due to the tone of the sobs. It didn't sound like the usual crying from a bad break up, but rather the kind that resulted from a pet getting run over by a car. Giving a light knock, the booth opened and the girl faced Lisa, her cheeks flushed from crying.
Lisa: Are you okay?
The girl nodded and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her denim jacket. Lisa reached into her purse and handed her a Kleenex, which the younger girl accepted without hesitation. After blowing her nose and properly wiping the tears out of her crystal blue eyes while sitting on the wooden bench against the diner wall. Then the girl started to open up a little, and softly spoke. Lisa listened carefully and was quite shocked to hear what the girl had to say.
Girl: And they caught me and mah friend, Darlene making out. And we're not lesbian, we were fooling around and being silly. Ya know what aye mean?
Lisa nodded and tried not to grin, remembering her college dorm days.
Girl: Then mah Daddy gets mad and starts yelling at me. Saying "No man hatin bull dyke is gonna live under mah roof, pack up and get the fuck outta mah house. Me and your Mama raised you better than that and this is the thanks we get for putting a Gawd damn roof over your head, you're dead to me"!
Lisa was shocked, how could a man say that about his own flesh and blood. Sure, the people down south were very conservative and traditional, and some of them even had confederate flags in their yards. But to disown your daughter because she's being a teenager was beyond absurd. The girl started to cry again, but this time, Lisa wrapped an arm around the poor girl and held her close.
Lisa: There, there, sweetie, it's gonna be okay. You poor daw-ling, shhhhhh! What's your name, honey?
Girl: Angie, Angie Moss.
Lisa: Well, Angie, do you know how lucky you are to have a name that is a Rolling Stones song.
Angie gave a tiny chuckle amidst her tears, at Lisa's joke. The lawyer kept patting her back, not worried about the dampness on her suit coat from Angie's tears. After a minute or two, Angie stopped crying and sat up straight, facing her good samitaritan listener.
Lisa: Do you feel better now, Angie?
Angie: Yes, thank you so much for listenin to me, not too many folks around here would wanna here somethin like that!
The southerness to her voice was mildly amusing, but Lisa didn't want to laugh and hurt Angie's feelings. The girl was already fragile due to her troubles at home.
Lisa: I'll tell you what, why don't you come back inside with me and I'll buy you a hot fudge sundae. The waitress in there swears by them.
Angie: That's alright, Miss, you don't have ta-
Lisa: Nonsense, I know you had a rough day, and there is no better cure roughness than cold treats with warm chocolate sauce.
Angie: Golly, Miss, you don't even know me.
Lisa: We're both women, we speak the same language. Besides ice cream always makes me feel better. Come on, my treat.
Angie returned the inviting smile that Lisa gave her and nodded with a smile of her own.
Angie: Okay, thank you!
The two women walked back inside the diner. They made quite the odd pair, to say the least. Lisa in her business suit, expensive shoes, and makeup; with Angie in casual clothes, three year old cowgirl boots, and a tear stained face. But on the inside, they couldn't of been any different. When Lisa was in college, she experimented with girls. But it never went very far and she never had a relationship with another woman. Lisa found herself ordering a strawberry sundae with hot fudge, to celebrate her latest courtroom conquest. Angie's sundae may've not solved her problems at home, but a band aid for a bullet wound was better than bleeding out entirely. Angie could tell that Lisa wasn't from Alabama, but had a feeling she was a city girl. For the young and naive girl, Lisa was practically a celebrity. Angie had never left the state and had asked Lisa many questions about what the city was like, what college was like, and how many boyfriends she had since teenage-hood. The redheaded lawyer caught early on that Angie's world was small, and answered her questions patiently and to the best she could without sounding boastful. Lisa inquired if Angie had thoughts of college and what she wanted to do with her life. Angie was unsure, because most of the women in her small town were either waitresses, housewives, secretaries, cashiers, or cleaning ladies. Although some were schoolteachers too, but the ratio was three to one compared to the male teachers.
After the sundaes were finished, Lisa paid the bill, but Angie insisted on leaving a tip. Lisa smiled and gave a bemused nod at Angie's modesty. When the walked out the diner, Lisa asked the most obvious of questions that Angie had a feeling she would ask.
Lisa: Do you have someone coming to get you?
Angie: No, but it's okay. I'm just gonna walk to the bus stop and take it to my aunt's house.
Lisa: That's a mile from here, honey, and it's dark outside. Where does your aunt live.
Angie: Twelve miles from here, east of the state line. In a town called Pinkerton, it's smaller and duller than this here town.
Lisa: I see. Well, it wouldn't be too far out of my way to give you a lift, since i'm heading for the state line.
Angie: Aww geez, Ms. Lisa, I hate to inconvience you when you've already been so nice to me.
Lisa: Anige, it's late, you've had a rough day, and the last thing you need is to waste your energy and money on a bus.
Angie: But why would you wanna help me?
Lisa: Because I had issues with my parents too, and if it wasn't for my older sister, I wouldn't be who I am today. You're on the brink of adulthood, and you're going through the motions of leaving adoloesence behind you. But if you honestly want to walk, I won't try to twist your arm, and I won't hold any grudge. But you'd be doing me a favor too.
Angie: What kinda favor?
Lisa: Not making me worry that you didn't make it to your aunt's house. I'd sleep a lot better tonight, knowing that you're okay and in a safe place where you're welcome.
That statement really touched Angie, because she had just met Lisa and the older woman cared whether or not she had a bed to sleep in. How thoughtful was that?
Angie: Golly, Miss Lisa, you're gonna make me cry a-gain.
Lisa almost wanted to correct Angie's grammar, but she knew that the girl couldn't help the way she was raised.
Lisa: And you, young lady, are going to make me cry if you call me Miss Lisa again.
Then the two shared a mutual chuckle and Lisa opened the backseat for Angie. The blonde put her tiny suitcase and knapsack in the back. Then she remembered her I-Pod was in the knapsack, and unzipped the bag to pull it out. Inside her knapsack was a large bag of marijuana. Angie had taken it from her father's private stash after he stormed off to the local bar to calm himself down. Her mother had been in her room crying, so it gave Angie a chance to ransack his hiding place and take his weed. She was planning to sell it to some friends, for some extra money. She only had three hundred dollars to her name since emptying out her bank account earlier, so some extra cash would help keep her afloat until getting a new job. Angie was in such a hurry to play David Bowie's Hunky Dory album, that she forgot to zipped the bag back up.
Forty minutes later....
Lisa drove through the town of Pinkerton, which was just as Angie described it, small and dull. It reminded Lisa of Endora, the town in What's Eating Gilbert Grape, where nothing ever happens. Although the town's name sparked her interest, because Pinkertons were the first official police.
Lisa: Interesting choice of name for this town.
Angie: Yeah, mah Aunt told me the story of how it got it's name. After the Homestead Strike of 1892, a Pinkerton named Harrison Smith, moved to the town when it was called Jagerville. In 1900, after graduating from business school, he became mayor of Jagerville. He was rumored to have been the best mayor of Jagerville. So when he died, the town council got together and decided to change the name to honor Smith's memory. But there was already a town called Smithville, so they named it Pinkerton after his former job title.
Lisa was intrigued by Angie's story and listened attentively. She almost wanted to become a history teacher when she was a freshman, but later realized that Criminal Justice was more interesting. Angie continued to navigate Lisa as they hit the back roads, which was the way to her aunt's house. After a mile or two, Angie gave Lisa the final directions.
Angie: It's the white house coming up on the right.
Lisa pulled into the driveway and put her car into park. It was a nice white house, with a very neatly trimmed lawn. At first, Lisa had a feeling that it might be a dump, but she stood corrected now.
Lisa: Very nice house, is your aunt married?
Angie: Yeah, my Uncle Clay is a banker and he gave my Aunt Cindy the option of not working a job if she didn't wanna. But Aunty Cindy decided to get a part time job at the post office.
Lisa: Well, they sound like interesting people.
Angie: They are, hey, you wanna come in and meet em?
Lisa would've liked to say yes, but she was already behind schedule since running into Angie and needed to find the nearest motel and get some rest.
Lisa: I would like to, but I really need to get back on the road, Angie. But thank you for the invite.
Angie looked a little disappointed, as she was eager to introduce her new friend to Aunt Cindy and Uncle Clay. The lawyer could see that on the girl's expression, so she reached into her purse and gave Angie one of her business cards.
Lisa: Here, take my card. If you're ever in Boston, please don't hesitate to call me. My email is there as well, if you want to contact me online.
Angie: Thank you so much, Lisa, for listening to mah rant, and buying me ice cream.
The girl was close to choking up, and she hugged Lisa after unbuckling her seat belt. Lisa returned the hug, and finished with a pat on Angie's shoulder.
Lisa: Well, you take care, Angie and good luck with everything.
Angie: You too, Good Night!
Grabbing her suitcase and knapsack, Angie waltzed up to the front door and knocked. Lisa pulled out of the driveway when she saw the door open and Angie go in. Hitting the back road again, Lisa saw a sign that read; STATE LINE, 10 MILES. Ten more miles and she'd stop at the first motel and take a long hot shower before bed. Pressing her high heeled foot deeper into the gas pedal, her speed went up to sixty MPH and then she hit the cruise control button on the wheel. Hopefully, she wouldn't come across a deer or coyote at this time of night.
But neither a deer nor coyote became a problem. Instead, some flashing red and blue lights behind her did.
Lisa: Oh shit!
The last time Lisa had been pulled over was four years ago, when she and some friends were on a road trip to New York. They had been let go as a warning since she and her friends had no priors and hadn't been drinking. Hopefully this cop behind her would give her the same treatment. Lisa watched as the cop got out of the squad car, noting that it was a female cop who was heavyset and looked to be shorter than her but had a stockier build too. The cop wore a long sleeved khaki uniform and had a revolver hanging from the holster strapped to her belt. Lisa rolled down her window, a flashlight shined in on Lisa's eyes. Lisa made out her face though, the woman appeared to be early forties and had a redness to her face.
Cop: License and registration, please.
Opening her purse Lisa pulled out her driver's license and proof of insurance, then handed both to the female cop who studied them in her fat fingers.
Cop: Any part-tic-ular reason you're driving over the speed limit tonight, maa'm?
Lisa: I apologize, Officer, it's been a long day and I guess I was really excited to find a motel.
Cop: Aye see. I noticed your license plate said Boston on it. What brings ya down south, if ya don't mind me askin?
Lisa: I'm a lawyer and I was asked by my nephew to represent him, over in Elnora.
Cop: Oh, well that was nice of ya, Miss. We're very family oriented down here and take care of our own too.
Lisa smiled a little, liking that this female cop was in a good mood, and hoped it would help her chances of getting let go with no ticket.
Cop: I'm just gonna run these through mah computer, be back in two shakes of a cow's tail.
Lisa nodded and caught the cop's name tag, it read Marge. Then waited patiently while Officer Marge checked out her information. Returning a couple minutes later, Marge handed Lisa's cards back.
Marge: Now, I hope you don't mind, Miss, but Aye'd like to check your ve-hicle. Not that I think you're a criminal or nothin. But when we have outta towners, we just like to play it safe, ya understand?
Her tone was friendly, still a good sign. Lisa saw no problem with that as she had nothing to hide.
Lisa: No problem, Officer.
Marge: Thankee, could you please step outta the car?
Lisa obeyed and stepped out of her Malibu and then stood off to the side while Officer Marge did her inspection. After searching the front seat, she moved to the back, flashlight still in hand. But then Lisa was taken aback when Marge held up a large ziploc bag of marijuana, and her eyes widened. It was Angie's.
Marge: Mah, mah, mah, what've we here, a bag of wacky weed. Hands behind your back, right now, missy!
Lisa, still in shock, complied and did so while Marge cuffed her. But then frowned when Marge didn't read her the Miranda Rights.
Lisa: Excuse me, but aren't you forgetting to read me my rights?
Marge: Nope, we don't do that here.
Lisa: Listen, Officer, I can explain. I met a girl with no car back in Elnora, and gave her a ride. Then she put her stuff in my backseat, so it's her weed. Please, you have to believe me.
Marge spun Lisa around and seized the flaps of her suit coat, pulling the frightened younger woman close.
Marge: I ain't gotta believe horse shit, Missy. In addition to driving around with an illegial drug, you picked up a hitchiker too. That's two crimes around these parts, ya understand?
Lisa nodded while wincing because Marge had cigarette breath. Then Marge let go of her coat and gently ushered Lisa into the backseat of her squad car.
Lisa: What about my car?
Marge: Don't worry your purty head, darlin, I'll call a tow truck and have it taken to the Impound lot. Now, please keep quiet, while I do so.
Lisa sank down in the backseat, feeling betrayed by Angie after being so nice to her. Was her nice girl persona, just an act? If so, then why would she leave a clearly expensive bag of weed in her car. Lisa knew a little bit about drug prices, after representing a client who dealed weed from his house. But once she got to the station, she would play her cards right and tell the cops the whole truth. Then she would call her boss and tell him the situation. He was a good man and would definetly send her an attorney by Pan Am if need be. Unless she had the option of representing herself, that she could do if push came to shove.
Lisa felt better, this cop was already in trouble for not reading her rights, which would make getting her off a lot easier. For now, she would play ball and then take a swing when it became her turn to pitch.
The Pinkerton Policestation was bigger than Lisa expected, and she hoped that they had a seperate holding cell for women. The last thing she wanted to see was some drunk redneck who looked like he was from Deliverance. Marge escorted Lisa inside, then down a long hallway, and straight through a door marked WOMEN'S HOLDING AREA. The cop and the lawyer walked past a row of of holding cells. There were three and so far, only one was occupied, which made Lisa feel better. Marge carried Lisa's purse in one hand, while her other meaty hand rested on Lisa's shoulder. A female cop sat behind the desk, she was thin, tan, with blonde hair like Angie's and wore a smilar tan police uniform like Marge wore. She looked to be late thirties and her name tag read; Sally. The fellow female cop looked up from her paperwork when she saw Marge waltz in.
Sally: Howdy Marge, is this the city girl you spoke of on the CB?
Marge: Sure is, Sally, you busy at the moment?
Sally: Not really.
Marge: Great, why don't you usher Miss Red here into the processing room. I'll be there in a minute, I just need some coffee. Say, Red, you wanna cup?
Lisa: No thank you.
Marge: Good, because I wasn't gonna give ya none anyways, hur hur hur!
Then she walked away, giving Lisa's mane of red hair a tussel while she did so. Lisa felt her irish temper start to slowly slip out, this fat pig of a cop was treating her with no respect. Sally came over and smiled warmly at the handcuffed lawyer. Hopefully she was nicer than Officer Marge thought Lisa.
Sally: Evenin, maa'm, you'll have to excuse Marge. She's just got one of those nasty senses of humor, but she don't mean no harm. Please, come with me.
Lisa walked into a room behind the front desk, which was quite a big room for processing would be felons. There was a large wooden table towards the center, a closet, and a row of shelves and drawers. Sally pulled out a chair and instructed Lisa to sit down and wait. When Lisa did, Sally took the cuffs off, much to Lisa's delight. Rubbing her sore wrists, Lisa knew what was coming next. A form to fill out, and then getting fingerprinted. Then she'd be taken to a cell until being allowed her phone call. It was standard police procedure, and it had happened when Michael had been picked up.
Marge came into the room, carrying a cardboard box the size of a television set. Setting the box down by a smaller desk, the heavyset woman folded her arms.
Marge: Alright, Missy, hand your jewelery, pens, or papers in your pockets.
Lisa slowly took out her earrings, unfastened her watch, and unhooked her gold necklace which had been a graduation present. Then she handed them to Sally who set them in the box.
Marge: Atta girl, now take off them fancy duds, ya got on!
Lisa didn't like the sound of that, and there was no need to do that unless she was at a County Jail. And this wasn't a County Jail, they had no right to demand her clothing.
Lisa: Excuse me?
Marge: Ya heard me, me and Sal here need to see if ya got any more drugs on ya. Now, strip.
Lisa: You don't have the authority to strip search me.
Marge: We have the authority to do whatever we deem necessary here, Yankee girl.
Lisa: I'm a lawyer, and I know the law and this is illegial.
Marge: You're a long way from Home of the Celtics, Missy, now you take them there clothes off.
Lisa stood up glared defiantly at the hulky woman, this had gone far enough.
Lisa: I am not taking anything off, I have the right to wear these clothes until I'm convicted.
Marge glared back, but then smirked.
Marge: Well, I guess you're not stripping down then. Give her a little juice, Sally.
The next thing Lisa felt was a jolt against her lower back, and then she lost feeling in her legs and fell forward. Marge caught the stunned lawyer, while Sally grinned as she held her taser proudly. Then she holstered the stun gun and watched as Lisa started to shake in Marge's arms.
Marge: Nicely done, Sally, now grab them long legs and help me set her down.
The two female cops placed the stunned lawyer on the table, so that she was laying on her back. Marge admired Lisa's black leather pumps by caressing the heel.
Marge: I always like it when they refuse to strip willingly, makes my job a lot more fun, hehe. I think these here expensive lookin shoes are the first to go.
And with that, Marge plucked off Lisa's high heeled pump. Lisa groaned, as she felt cool air hit her warm, burgundy stocking foot. Marge held a shoe up and got a better look at them.
Marge: My goodness, ya got some big feet, Red. A size ten in women's, holy moly, much these big shoes cost ya?
But Lisa was still stunned, and unable to answer as her teeth were chattering. Off went the other shoe, leaving her the lawyer in her stocking feet. Lisa curled her toes a little, amusing Marge who picked up her left foot and gave it a tiny rub.
Marge: Love your stockins too. But jiminey crickets are they sweaty!
She brought the captive foot to her nose and took a tiny sniff.
Marge: Whee, doggies, smelly too.
Wrinkling her nose, she gave a nod to Sally who re-handcuffed Lisa's wrists. Then Sally attached the chain of the handcuffs to a hook on the end of the table. Marge continued to rub Lisa's feet, while breathing in more of the aroma from her sweaty feet. Marge didn't think they smelled bad, but she wanted to sas this young woman as much as possible. The aging policewoman was tired of these big city people coming down south and trying to act like the rules didn't apply to them. How dare she drive around their town with wacky weed in the car.
Lisa started to snap out of her electricution daze, and saw what Marge was doing. She tried to jerk her foot away from the cop, but Marge held on tight, this tall drink of water wasn't going anywhere. What did she think she was doing, how dare she touch her feet.
Lisa: Get your fat meaty paws off my feet, how dare you!
Marge: How dare I, how dare you break the law in mah town.
Sally: What should we take off next, her coat, or her skirt?
Lisa: Don't you dare take off any more of my clothes, I'm waahaharning you!
Marge ran a single fingernail against Lisa's stocking heel, which caused Lisa to laugh out loud during mid sentence. In additon to having big feet, Lisa also had soft sensitive feet. The fact that her stockings were made of silk and nylon didn't help either. But Marge had gotten the reaction she wanted, as this was something she and Sally did while strip searching a prisoner. The more clothes that they took off, the more ticklish spots they found, it was practically their mission statement.
Marge: What's a matter, Red, are ya big footsies ticklish?
Lisa: No, they're not, you just startled me.
Marge didn't believe her and continued tickling the heel. Then she added another finger which tickled Lisa's high arch as well. The redheaded lawyer tried to contain herself but within seconds her face was about the same color as her hair from holding in her laughter.
Marge: Come on lil red robin, sing for me now!
All it took was a third finger on her stocking sole and Lisa broke out in hysterics.
Lisa: TEEEHEHEHEHEHEEEE NOOOO DO OHOH ON'T TICKLE MEEEHEEHEHEE!!!
More to come after Haunted Mansion 2 reaches it's climax
For all of you who enjoyed The Occult stories, you'll love this one for sure. Same with The Shrink and the Switch, there's some of that theme in this story as well. I remember Primetime telling me how much he loved my Occult series, and thought I would cook something up for him.
Warning though, the set up is kinda long, but I had to make this story as real in my mind as possible. So if you have to go to the bathroom, I'd suggest doing that, before reading.
Enjoy!!!
Lisa Malone sat in Smokey's Diner, enjoying the last remains of a light supper. She was thirty years old and a lawyer from Parker & Hanson, the second largest law firm in Boston. The young woman had received a phone call from her sister, Julie, about her nephew getting arrested for shooting a convenience store clerk. The nephew, Michael was on his way from California, because he had gotten accepted at Berkley, and was on his way home for spring break. Stopping for a burrito and soda at a convenience store in Elnora, Alabama, had made him a suspect for a shooting of the clerk. So Julie called Lisa to help get Michael out of jail, which she did immediately. Both sisters knew that Michael was inncent, he had a clean record and was overall a good boy. Needless to say, the case hadn't even gone to trial, because Lisa proved that there wasn't enough evidence to convict her nephew. Besides that, she also took photos of the store, where the assailant had broken glass on the door and cut his arm in the process. Since there was blood on the broken glass, it became easy evidence. With a quick DNA test, it proved that the blood was not Michael's and Lisa had won the case. Michael was free and had thanked his Aunt Lisa by hugging her repeatedly. Lisa was proud of herself, not just as a lawyer, but as a family person who got to help out the son of the woman who had supported her while attending law school. Now she was free to go back home and enjoy the rest of her vacation.
Needless to say she was glad to be leaving Alabama, too many of the men folk had scoffed at the idea of a Yankee female lawyer coming into their small town thinking she was going to beat their rockstair prosecuting attorney, who was nearly twice her age and the local hero who was famous for sending the guilty to prison. The joke was on them when she dazzled them with her city girl charm and Ivy League intelligence. They stood corrected when the prosecutor demissed all charges against Michael, and even applauded her victory.
The lawyer had gotten out of court by three and checked out of her motel by four. After an hour of driving, she had stopped to eat. Still clad in her black business suit, complete with a skirt that went down to above her knees, she also wore a burgundy silk blouse, which matched her burgundy colored stockings which went up over her kneecaps. Lisa liked wearing burgundy because it contrasted well with her long red hair which she normally had in a conservative bun when in the courtroom. But that was earlier today, and she was now off from work. Being able to run her fingers through her locks of red hair was the closest thing to a victory dance for the young lawyer. A pair of black high heels adorned her feet, which made her exactly six foot, in height. Lisa was 5'9' in her stocking feet, but the heels made her taller than most of the men in Endora. Having a tall stature made her feel not only professional but proud that she could be the exact height of her trial rival, who was six feet tall.
Cream of chicken soup, and a BLT on burnt whole wheat toast without mayo. This was the first diner she had stopped at which didn't serve bagels. Normally, Lisa ate BLTs with those instead of toast, something she and her sister had discovered when experimenting with food growing up. When Michael was little, she used to make him toasted bagels with peanut butter whenever she babysat him. His mother worked a lot and it gave her the chance to be cool Aunty Lisa and spoil the little tot. Now he was nineteen, and no longer the cute little tot. But she was still cool Aunt Lisa, and today's win in court was proof of that. After polishing off the last bites of her BLT, she washed them down with her second cup of coffee. Lisa needed caffiene to get more driving done before stopping at another motel to rest for the night. Tomorrow, if she made three pit stops, she could be home by five.
After paying the bill with her Master Card, Lisa walked out of the diner and towards her car. But the sound of young sobs from the phone boot made her high heels stop right in their tracks. Giving the booth a brief glance, she could see that the crying person was indeed female, and looked to be around Michael's age. She had long blonde hair in a ponytail, wore a denim jacket, a baby blue tee and dark blue jeans. Part of Lisa wanted to just walk away and continue her road trip. But another part of her was concerned that something was terribly wrong, due to the tone of the sobs. It didn't sound like the usual crying from a bad break up, but rather the kind that resulted from a pet getting run over by a car. Giving a light knock, the booth opened and the girl faced Lisa, her cheeks flushed from crying.
Lisa: Are you okay?
The girl nodded and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her denim jacket. Lisa reached into her purse and handed her a Kleenex, which the younger girl accepted without hesitation. After blowing her nose and properly wiping the tears out of her crystal blue eyes while sitting on the wooden bench against the diner wall. Then the girl started to open up a little, and softly spoke. Lisa listened carefully and was quite shocked to hear what the girl had to say.
Girl: And they caught me and mah friend, Darlene making out. And we're not lesbian, we were fooling around and being silly. Ya know what aye mean?
Lisa nodded and tried not to grin, remembering her college dorm days.
Girl: Then mah Daddy gets mad and starts yelling at me. Saying "No man hatin bull dyke is gonna live under mah roof, pack up and get the fuck outta mah house. Me and your Mama raised you better than that and this is the thanks we get for putting a Gawd damn roof over your head, you're dead to me"!
Lisa was shocked, how could a man say that about his own flesh and blood. Sure, the people down south were very conservative and traditional, and some of them even had confederate flags in their yards. But to disown your daughter because she's being a teenager was beyond absurd. The girl started to cry again, but this time, Lisa wrapped an arm around the poor girl and held her close.
Lisa: There, there, sweetie, it's gonna be okay. You poor daw-ling, shhhhhh! What's your name, honey?
Girl: Angie, Angie Moss.
Lisa: Well, Angie, do you know how lucky you are to have a name that is a Rolling Stones song.
Angie gave a tiny chuckle amidst her tears, at Lisa's joke. The lawyer kept patting her back, not worried about the dampness on her suit coat from Angie's tears. After a minute or two, Angie stopped crying and sat up straight, facing her good samitaritan listener.
Lisa: Do you feel better now, Angie?
Angie: Yes, thank you so much for listenin to me, not too many folks around here would wanna here somethin like that!
The southerness to her voice was mildly amusing, but Lisa didn't want to laugh and hurt Angie's feelings. The girl was already fragile due to her troubles at home.
Lisa: I'll tell you what, why don't you come back inside with me and I'll buy you a hot fudge sundae. The waitress in there swears by them.
Angie: That's alright, Miss, you don't have ta-
Lisa: Nonsense, I know you had a rough day, and there is no better cure roughness than cold treats with warm chocolate sauce.
Angie: Golly, Miss, you don't even know me.
Lisa: We're both women, we speak the same language. Besides ice cream always makes me feel better. Come on, my treat.
Angie returned the inviting smile that Lisa gave her and nodded with a smile of her own.
Angie: Okay, thank you!
The two women walked back inside the diner. They made quite the odd pair, to say the least. Lisa in her business suit, expensive shoes, and makeup; with Angie in casual clothes, three year old cowgirl boots, and a tear stained face. But on the inside, they couldn't of been any different. When Lisa was in college, she experimented with girls. But it never went very far and she never had a relationship with another woman. Lisa found herself ordering a strawberry sundae with hot fudge, to celebrate her latest courtroom conquest. Angie's sundae may've not solved her problems at home, but a band aid for a bullet wound was better than bleeding out entirely. Angie could tell that Lisa wasn't from Alabama, but had a feeling she was a city girl. For the young and naive girl, Lisa was practically a celebrity. Angie had never left the state and had asked Lisa many questions about what the city was like, what college was like, and how many boyfriends she had since teenage-hood. The redheaded lawyer caught early on that Angie's world was small, and answered her questions patiently and to the best she could without sounding boastful. Lisa inquired if Angie had thoughts of college and what she wanted to do with her life. Angie was unsure, because most of the women in her small town were either waitresses, housewives, secretaries, cashiers, or cleaning ladies. Although some were schoolteachers too, but the ratio was three to one compared to the male teachers.
After the sundaes were finished, Lisa paid the bill, but Angie insisted on leaving a tip. Lisa smiled and gave a bemused nod at Angie's modesty. When the walked out the diner, Lisa asked the most obvious of questions that Angie had a feeling she would ask.
Lisa: Do you have someone coming to get you?
Angie: No, but it's okay. I'm just gonna walk to the bus stop and take it to my aunt's house.
Lisa: That's a mile from here, honey, and it's dark outside. Where does your aunt live.
Angie: Twelve miles from here, east of the state line. In a town called Pinkerton, it's smaller and duller than this here town.
Lisa: I see. Well, it wouldn't be too far out of my way to give you a lift, since i'm heading for the state line.
Angie: Aww geez, Ms. Lisa, I hate to inconvience you when you've already been so nice to me.
Lisa: Anige, it's late, you've had a rough day, and the last thing you need is to waste your energy and money on a bus.
Angie: But why would you wanna help me?
Lisa: Because I had issues with my parents too, and if it wasn't for my older sister, I wouldn't be who I am today. You're on the brink of adulthood, and you're going through the motions of leaving adoloesence behind you. But if you honestly want to walk, I won't try to twist your arm, and I won't hold any grudge. But you'd be doing me a favor too.
Angie: What kinda favor?
Lisa: Not making me worry that you didn't make it to your aunt's house. I'd sleep a lot better tonight, knowing that you're okay and in a safe place where you're welcome.
That statement really touched Angie, because she had just met Lisa and the older woman cared whether or not she had a bed to sleep in. How thoughtful was that?
Angie: Golly, Miss Lisa, you're gonna make me cry a-gain.
Lisa almost wanted to correct Angie's grammar, but she knew that the girl couldn't help the way she was raised.
Lisa: And you, young lady, are going to make me cry if you call me Miss Lisa again.
Then the two shared a mutual chuckle and Lisa opened the backseat for Angie. The blonde put her tiny suitcase and knapsack in the back. Then she remembered her I-Pod was in the knapsack, and unzipped the bag to pull it out. Inside her knapsack was a large bag of marijuana. Angie had taken it from her father's private stash after he stormed off to the local bar to calm himself down. Her mother had been in her room crying, so it gave Angie a chance to ransack his hiding place and take his weed. She was planning to sell it to some friends, for some extra money. She only had three hundred dollars to her name since emptying out her bank account earlier, so some extra cash would help keep her afloat until getting a new job. Angie was in such a hurry to play David Bowie's Hunky Dory album, that she forgot to zipped the bag back up.
Forty minutes later....
Lisa drove through the town of Pinkerton, which was just as Angie described it, small and dull. It reminded Lisa of Endora, the town in What's Eating Gilbert Grape, where nothing ever happens. Although the town's name sparked her interest, because Pinkertons were the first official police.
Lisa: Interesting choice of name for this town.
Angie: Yeah, mah Aunt told me the story of how it got it's name. After the Homestead Strike of 1892, a Pinkerton named Harrison Smith, moved to the town when it was called Jagerville. In 1900, after graduating from business school, he became mayor of Jagerville. He was rumored to have been the best mayor of Jagerville. So when he died, the town council got together and decided to change the name to honor Smith's memory. But there was already a town called Smithville, so they named it Pinkerton after his former job title.
Lisa was intrigued by Angie's story and listened attentively. She almost wanted to become a history teacher when she was a freshman, but later realized that Criminal Justice was more interesting. Angie continued to navigate Lisa as they hit the back roads, which was the way to her aunt's house. After a mile or two, Angie gave Lisa the final directions.
Angie: It's the white house coming up on the right.
Lisa pulled into the driveway and put her car into park. It was a nice white house, with a very neatly trimmed lawn. At first, Lisa had a feeling that it might be a dump, but she stood corrected now.
Lisa: Very nice house, is your aunt married?
Angie: Yeah, my Uncle Clay is a banker and he gave my Aunt Cindy the option of not working a job if she didn't wanna. But Aunty Cindy decided to get a part time job at the post office.
Lisa: Well, they sound like interesting people.
Angie: They are, hey, you wanna come in and meet em?
Lisa would've liked to say yes, but she was already behind schedule since running into Angie and needed to find the nearest motel and get some rest.
Lisa: I would like to, but I really need to get back on the road, Angie. But thank you for the invite.
Angie looked a little disappointed, as she was eager to introduce her new friend to Aunt Cindy and Uncle Clay. The lawyer could see that on the girl's expression, so she reached into her purse and gave Angie one of her business cards.
Lisa: Here, take my card. If you're ever in Boston, please don't hesitate to call me. My email is there as well, if you want to contact me online.
Angie: Thank you so much, Lisa, for listening to mah rant, and buying me ice cream.
The girl was close to choking up, and she hugged Lisa after unbuckling her seat belt. Lisa returned the hug, and finished with a pat on Angie's shoulder.
Lisa: Well, you take care, Angie and good luck with everything.
Angie: You too, Good Night!
Grabbing her suitcase and knapsack, Angie waltzed up to the front door and knocked. Lisa pulled out of the driveway when she saw the door open and Angie go in. Hitting the back road again, Lisa saw a sign that read; STATE LINE, 10 MILES. Ten more miles and she'd stop at the first motel and take a long hot shower before bed. Pressing her high heeled foot deeper into the gas pedal, her speed went up to sixty MPH and then she hit the cruise control button on the wheel. Hopefully, she wouldn't come across a deer or coyote at this time of night.
But neither a deer nor coyote became a problem. Instead, some flashing red and blue lights behind her did.
Lisa: Oh shit!
The last time Lisa had been pulled over was four years ago, when she and some friends were on a road trip to New York. They had been let go as a warning since she and her friends had no priors and hadn't been drinking. Hopefully this cop behind her would give her the same treatment. Lisa watched as the cop got out of the squad car, noting that it was a female cop who was heavyset and looked to be shorter than her but had a stockier build too. The cop wore a long sleeved khaki uniform and had a revolver hanging from the holster strapped to her belt. Lisa rolled down her window, a flashlight shined in on Lisa's eyes. Lisa made out her face though, the woman appeared to be early forties and had a redness to her face.
Cop: License and registration, please.
Opening her purse Lisa pulled out her driver's license and proof of insurance, then handed both to the female cop who studied them in her fat fingers.
Cop: Any part-tic-ular reason you're driving over the speed limit tonight, maa'm?
Lisa: I apologize, Officer, it's been a long day and I guess I was really excited to find a motel.
Cop: Aye see. I noticed your license plate said Boston on it. What brings ya down south, if ya don't mind me askin?
Lisa: I'm a lawyer and I was asked by my nephew to represent him, over in Elnora.
Cop: Oh, well that was nice of ya, Miss. We're very family oriented down here and take care of our own too.
Lisa smiled a little, liking that this female cop was in a good mood, and hoped it would help her chances of getting let go with no ticket.
Cop: I'm just gonna run these through mah computer, be back in two shakes of a cow's tail.
Lisa nodded and caught the cop's name tag, it read Marge. Then waited patiently while Officer Marge checked out her information. Returning a couple minutes later, Marge handed Lisa's cards back.
Marge: Now, I hope you don't mind, Miss, but Aye'd like to check your ve-hicle. Not that I think you're a criminal or nothin. But when we have outta towners, we just like to play it safe, ya understand?
Her tone was friendly, still a good sign. Lisa saw no problem with that as she had nothing to hide.
Lisa: No problem, Officer.
Marge: Thankee, could you please step outta the car?
Lisa obeyed and stepped out of her Malibu and then stood off to the side while Officer Marge did her inspection. After searching the front seat, she moved to the back, flashlight still in hand. But then Lisa was taken aback when Marge held up a large ziploc bag of marijuana, and her eyes widened. It was Angie's.
Marge: Mah, mah, mah, what've we here, a bag of wacky weed. Hands behind your back, right now, missy!
Lisa, still in shock, complied and did so while Marge cuffed her. But then frowned when Marge didn't read her the Miranda Rights.
Lisa: Excuse me, but aren't you forgetting to read me my rights?
Marge: Nope, we don't do that here.
Lisa: Listen, Officer, I can explain. I met a girl with no car back in Elnora, and gave her a ride. Then she put her stuff in my backseat, so it's her weed. Please, you have to believe me.
Marge spun Lisa around and seized the flaps of her suit coat, pulling the frightened younger woman close.
Marge: I ain't gotta believe horse shit, Missy. In addition to driving around with an illegial drug, you picked up a hitchiker too. That's two crimes around these parts, ya understand?
Lisa nodded while wincing because Marge had cigarette breath. Then Marge let go of her coat and gently ushered Lisa into the backseat of her squad car.
Lisa: What about my car?
Marge: Don't worry your purty head, darlin, I'll call a tow truck and have it taken to the Impound lot. Now, please keep quiet, while I do so.
Lisa sank down in the backseat, feeling betrayed by Angie after being so nice to her. Was her nice girl persona, just an act? If so, then why would she leave a clearly expensive bag of weed in her car. Lisa knew a little bit about drug prices, after representing a client who dealed weed from his house. But once she got to the station, she would play her cards right and tell the cops the whole truth. Then she would call her boss and tell him the situation. He was a good man and would definetly send her an attorney by Pan Am if need be. Unless she had the option of representing herself, that she could do if push came to shove.
Lisa felt better, this cop was already in trouble for not reading her rights, which would make getting her off a lot easier. For now, she would play ball and then take a swing when it became her turn to pitch.
The Pinkerton Policestation was bigger than Lisa expected, and she hoped that they had a seperate holding cell for women. The last thing she wanted to see was some drunk redneck who looked like he was from Deliverance. Marge escorted Lisa inside, then down a long hallway, and straight through a door marked WOMEN'S HOLDING AREA. The cop and the lawyer walked past a row of of holding cells. There were three and so far, only one was occupied, which made Lisa feel better. Marge carried Lisa's purse in one hand, while her other meaty hand rested on Lisa's shoulder. A female cop sat behind the desk, she was thin, tan, with blonde hair like Angie's and wore a smilar tan police uniform like Marge wore. She looked to be late thirties and her name tag read; Sally. The fellow female cop looked up from her paperwork when she saw Marge waltz in.
Sally: Howdy Marge, is this the city girl you spoke of on the CB?
Marge: Sure is, Sally, you busy at the moment?
Sally: Not really.
Marge: Great, why don't you usher Miss Red here into the processing room. I'll be there in a minute, I just need some coffee. Say, Red, you wanna cup?
Lisa: No thank you.
Marge: Good, because I wasn't gonna give ya none anyways, hur hur hur!
Then she walked away, giving Lisa's mane of red hair a tussel while she did so. Lisa felt her irish temper start to slowly slip out, this fat pig of a cop was treating her with no respect. Sally came over and smiled warmly at the handcuffed lawyer. Hopefully she was nicer than Officer Marge thought Lisa.
Sally: Evenin, maa'm, you'll have to excuse Marge. She's just got one of those nasty senses of humor, but she don't mean no harm. Please, come with me.
Lisa walked into a room behind the front desk, which was quite a big room for processing would be felons. There was a large wooden table towards the center, a closet, and a row of shelves and drawers. Sally pulled out a chair and instructed Lisa to sit down and wait. When Lisa did, Sally took the cuffs off, much to Lisa's delight. Rubbing her sore wrists, Lisa knew what was coming next. A form to fill out, and then getting fingerprinted. Then she'd be taken to a cell until being allowed her phone call. It was standard police procedure, and it had happened when Michael had been picked up.
Marge came into the room, carrying a cardboard box the size of a television set. Setting the box down by a smaller desk, the heavyset woman folded her arms.
Marge: Alright, Missy, hand your jewelery, pens, or papers in your pockets.
Lisa slowly took out her earrings, unfastened her watch, and unhooked her gold necklace which had been a graduation present. Then she handed them to Sally who set them in the box.
Marge: Atta girl, now take off them fancy duds, ya got on!
Lisa didn't like the sound of that, and there was no need to do that unless she was at a County Jail. And this wasn't a County Jail, they had no right to demand her clothing.
Lisa: Excuse me?
Marge: Ya heard me, me and Sal here need to see if ya got any more drugs on ya. Now, strip.
Lisa: You don't have the authority to strip search me.
Marge: We have the authority to do whatever we deem necessary here, Yankee girl.
Lisa: I'm a lawyer, and I know the law and this is illegial.
Marge: You're a long way from Home of the Celtics, Missy, now you take them there clothes off.
Lisa stood up glared defiantly at the hulky woman, this had gone far enough.
Lisa: I am not taking anything off, I have the right to wear these clothes until I'm convicted.
Marge glared back, but then smirked.
Marge: Well, I guess you're not stripping down then. Give her a little juice, Sally.
The next thing Lisa felt was a jolt against her lower back, and then she lost feeling in her legs and fell forward. Marge caught the stunned lawyer, while Sally grinned as she held her taser proudly. Then she holstered the stun gun and watched as Lisa started to shake in Marge's arms.
Marge: Nicely done, Sally, now grab them long legs and help me set her down.
The two female cops placed the stunned lawyer on the table, so that she was laying on her back. Marge admired Lisa's black leather pumps by caressing the heel.
Marge: I always like it when they refuse to strip willingly, makes my job a lot more fun, hehe. I think these here expensive lookin shoes are the first to go.
And with that, Marge plucked off Lisa's high heeled pump. Lisa groaned, as she felt cool air hit her warm, burgundy stocking foot. Marge held a shoe up and got a better look at them.
Marge: My goodness, ya got some big feet, Red. A size ten in women's, holy moly, much these big shoes cost ya?
But Lisa was still stunned, and unable to answer as her teeth were chattering. Off went the other shoe, leaving her the lawyer in her stocking feet. Lisa curled her toes a little, amusing Marge who picked up her left foot and gave it a tiny rub.
Marge: Love your stockins too. But jiminey crickets are they sweaty!
She brought the captive foot to her nose and took a tiny sniff.
Marge: Whee, doggies, smelly too.
Wrinkling her nose, she gave a nod to Sally who re-handcuffed Lisa's wrists. Then Sally attached the chain of the handcuffs to a hook on the end of the table. Marge continued to rub Lisa's feet, while breathing in more of the aroma from her sweaty feet. Marge didn't think they smelled bad, but she wanted to sas this young woman as much as possible. The aging policewoman was tired of these big city people coming down south and trying to act like the rules didn't apply to them. How dare she drive around their town with wacky weed in the car.
Lisa started to snap out of her electricution daze, and saw what Marge was doing. She tried to jerk her foot away from the cop, but Marge held on tight, this tall drink of water wasn't going anywhere. What did she think she was doing, how dare she touch her feet.
Lisa: Get your fat meaty paws off my feet, how dare you!
Marge: How dare I, how dare you break the law in mah town.
Sally: What should we take off next, her coat, or her skirt?
Lisa: Don't you dare take off any more of my clothes, I'm waahaharning you!
Marge ran a single fingernail against Lisa's stocking heel, which caused Lisa to laugh out loud during mid sentence. In additon to having big feet, Lisa also had soft sensitive feet. The fact that her stockings were made of silk and nylon didn't help either. But Marge had gotten the reaction she wanted, as this was something she and Sally did while strip searching a prisoner. The more clothes that they took off, the more ticklish spots they found, it was practically their mission statement.
Marge: What's a matter, Red, are ya big footsies ticklish?
Lisa: No, they're not, you just startled me.
Marge didn't believe her and continued tickling the heel. Then she added another finger which tickled Lisa's high arch as well. The redheaded lawyer tried to contain herself but within seconds her face was about the same color as her hair from holding in her laughter.
Marge: Come on lil red robin, sing for me now!
All it took was a third finger on her stocking sole and Lisa broke out in hysterics.
Lisa: TEEEHEHEHEHEHEEEE NOOOO DO OHOH ON'T TICKLE MEEEHEEHEHEE!!!
More to come after Haunted Mansion 2 reaches it's climax
