Some days later Michelle received a telephone call.
As a result she drove to a petrol station and waited. At the allotted time she started pumping fuel, keeping watch for a red Lexus. As predicted, the car arrived with Charlene driving. She pulled up at a pump in the next aisle and Michelle hailed her – purely by accident of course.
They chatted, exchanging empty words about the weather and how terrible it was that there had been a death at the party.
Then without anything of value being said, as prompted Michelle exchanged cell numbers and then left. That was it; what had been the point?
* * *
A week later there was a news-splash. A woman had been arrested 'following the death of a male at a party'.
A name was given – Jade - but Michelle had never heard of her; neither had Derek. Some days later there was a picture published of the suspect. It took a while but then they recognised her; it was the slave who had been whipped at the party.
Michelle was contacted again, she was required to give a full statement to the police. So off she went again to the Police Station, by the underground railway this time avoiding the parking difficulties.
She had been wearing her comfy-knickers and big bra but then she thought – Andy might be there.
Almost subconsciously she changed into white lacy lingerie. A casual T-shirt and short denim skirt over the top, did she look like mutton dressed as lamb? She didn't care, she was turning into a regular libertine.
This time she did indeed speak to Andy who was wearing skin-tight jeans and a T shirt that showed his muscles and the bulge between his thighs.
Michelle could hardly take her eyes from his crotch as he wrote, prompting her for exact minutiae. She barely heard him over the sound of her beating heart. Like a silly teenager, she thought. She was at least ten years older than him.
When it was over and she had signed and signed until she had cramp, she asked him what had happened. Andy suggested they go elsewhere where they could be more relaxed and talk.
They found a nearby bar where they could sit and have a drink - and Michelle could ogle Andy's bulge. He sat with a foot propped up on a handy ledge allowing her a good view whilst he explained.
"The slave-girl Jade was in a relationship with both Anastasia and Bernie, they had a BDSM thing going on - the slave act and whipping had been theatre for everyone's benefit.
"Mike had become carried away with the pool-orgy and made a clumsy pass at Jade. It had escalated and Jade had stabbed him with the stem of a broken wine glass, causing him to fall in and drown. Simple, nothing to do with the drugs investigation.
"It was more to do with the reason for the journalist's infiltration and she had been lucky that I had been the only witness when we went into the back room and we had to strip. Of course as soon as she did, she revealed the hidden camera in her clothes. She had no choice but to take me into her confidence.
"I don't know why she was taken by surprise by it, there was plenty of information in the contract; we were paid a lot of money to take the chance that we would be naked at some point. It was quite clear that there was a lot of nudity and possibly sex; involvement in the goings-on was expected and explicitly laid out.
"Of course, on that day she could well have gotten away with it if it hadn't been for the vote. There were plenty of serving staff that remained clothed all through the night.
"The normal police-press relationship saved us both that day. We promised not to reveal things that would compromise each other, but afterwards her revelations led to many salacious details being published. She has to earn a living after all.
"You see, it's not like it's depicted in TV drama. The press and cops feed off each other, journalists depend on interviews, heads-ups on events. If they have something critical they'll let us know.
"If a journalist prints a story about a police raid that's about to take place they'll never get a story ever again. Simple."
He continued, "Charlene was also in a relationship with Jade and had comforted her in her distress. As soon as the girl had realised that she (and all her relationships) were being investigated, she bolted. We needed the cell phone of Charlene so that they could identify the calls being made by Jade; we were then able to track the girl's phone until she could be arrested."
Michelle was still confused. "How did you get the cell number, I didn't tell you."
"We knew your number. When you swapped numbers with Charlene, we were monitoring your phone, you made a brief call to get your phone number on hers – and vice versa. It's just a daisy chain, easy. We were already trailing her, we knew that she normally fuels up at that stop. So when she started on the journey we made sure that you were waiting."
She realised that she had stopped gazing at his crotch and moved to his deep brown soulful eyes. Her foot had also moved onto the ledge, mirroring his action like an impressionable child. His eyes had shifted downwards, the opposite of her.
She followed his gaze; he was staring up her short skirt at her white panties.
Michelle started to put her foot back onto the ground but stopped herself. Very slowly she moved her knee sideways, opening the view to her knickers. She felt stupidly randy - did she have that damp spot again? She didn't dare examine herself to check. She kept her head level and shifted her ass forward on the seat.
Andy was still burbling on about the investigation but she was finding it difficult to concentrate, knowing that he was peering up her skirt. Then she realised that he had stopped talking and was just sitting still, gazing at her. He smiled, "I didn't recognise it with its clothes on."
He had bought a few rounds of drinks, Michelle had stood her corner and bought some as well. She was feeling drunk, reckless and dangerous and had lost interest in the whys and wherefores of the investigation. He must be giving out good pheromones – she was properly horny.
Eventually it was time to leave the bar. Michelle made her excuses and visited the bathroom. When she returned, she did something so outrageous that she struggled to even contemplate it. She turned to Andy and gave him the tiny bundle concealed in her hand. It was soft and white; it was her panties.
So they walked together. As she was going commando and feeling the fresh air circulate around her nether regions she was becoming even bolder and more randy. He was holding in his hand the intimate garment still warm from her body, leading her to a place she did not know where.
