By the time I pulled my pants back up and buckled my belt, Mimi was handing me another drink. "It looks like you're empty."
I took the drink from her. "Thanks."
She took a seat next to me on the sofa and peered at me from above her glass. "Bam?" she asked quietly.
I took a gulp from my glass. "Yeah, baby?"
She took a moment. "Would you do something for me?"
I looked at her. "For you, baby? Anything."
Mimi rose from the sofa and began to make her way toward a door on the other side of the library. "Oh, good; I was hoping you could help me with something."
"What is it?" I asked.
"Just this over here; come have a look."
I took a breath and got up from the sofa. After the head Mimi had so kindly given me just then, I was exhausted and ready for a snooze. But there was something pleading in her eyes that lured me toward her.
I followed her over to the door she had opened. "What is it?"
"Just take a look in the other room."
I peered into the dark room. I didn't see anything at first. And then my eyes fell upon the body on the floor. The body. It was a dead body lying on the parlor floor. I nearly jumped back. "Hey, what is this, what's the big idea?!"
"Bam, please, don't get upset," Mimi pleaded. "I need your help!"
"What are you talking about? There's a stiff lying here, what do you mean by all this?"
Mimi's eyes began water. "Bam, please. I didn't know what else to do. This afternoon I came home, Greta my servant had already left for the day, and when I entered the room there he was, lying on the floor with the gun next to him."
I peered into the room again. Though it was dark I could make out the body, an older man maybe in his sixties. Next to him lie the murder weapon. And right at his temple was the hole where the bullet tore through. "Who is he?" I asked.
Mimi hesitated. "He's, he's my father." Mimi broke down sobbing.
I don't know what it was, but I moved for her, took her in my arms and squeezed her tight. She cried into my chest like a baby. "Please help me, Bam. I don't know what to do, I can't contact the police. I'm sure they'll think I did it."
"Why you?" I asked. "You said yourself, you were out. You came home to find him lying there."
Mimi sniffled delicately. "Early this morning, my father and I quarreled something fierce. We'd been arguing quite a bit lately. Poor Greta has been in the middle of it all, she's heard everything. This morning we fought at breakfast and I got so upset with him that I just left." She paused. "And when I came back he was dead."
"Any thoughts on who could've shot him?" I asked.
Mimi shook her head. "I don't know. He was such a sweet man, really. I know we argued a lot, but deep down I loved him. But...I fear that Greta and the police will suspect me for his death." She leaned in closer to me. "Oh, Bam, please help me."
I stroked her silky, blonde hair. "Quiet, quiet," I whispered. "It's ok, I'm here. I'll help you; what we need to do is contact the police and tell them..."
"No!" Mimi cried, pulling away from me. "We can't go to the police; haven't you been listening to a word I've just said? They'll point the finger at me! They'll think I did it. They'll charge me, they'll convict me! Bam, please, don't let them. Please don't let them."
Mimi began to sob into my chest again. I didn't know what to do other than hold her. "What do you want to do then?"
She stopped crying and looked up at me. She was beautiful even in her suffering. "We have to get rid of the body. We have to bury him and make it look like he left this morning for our cabin down by the ocean. No one will suspect anything, at least not for a while, and that will give us more time to plan the next move."
I let out a sigh and shook my head. "Mimi, we can't do that..."
"We have to, Bam, there's no other way!" Mimi begged.
I was silent. I stood there like a sucker. I should have left her right there, walked out of that crazy mansion, got into my car, drove off and never looked back. But there was something compelling me to stay. Something that made it impossible to move. Something keeping me right there. It was Mimi's hand, caressing my manhood through my pants. Her soft, gentle touch moving slowly against the fabric, teasing me. She cupped my balls and gave a playful squeeze.