Victory Tour (Part 249)

At the Osborne house, I noticed most of the small furniture and boxes had been loaded into the U-Haul. What remained outside wouldn't take long to load. I'm not sure each of my teammates would be required to lift more than one item.

The trailer attached to Mr. Osborne's fancy pickup contained the dresser and dismantled bed the granddaughter would be getting. There was plenty of room for the recliners they were taking.

I stepped through the front door to see Kelli, Callie, Keri and Erin B. cleaning up the remains of their lunch. I noticed the extra leaves had been inserted in the table and enough chairs brought out to seat 14. That meant somebody had to eat at the kitchen counter or wait for a spot to come open.

Five pounds of barbecue hadn't been enough, but we hadn't been counting on the four girls and two extra Osbornes. The container Gladys Osborne prepared for Bob, a large pizza box from Jed's usual provider and wrappers from the little sandwich shop Marie liked bore evidence a of just how much had been consumed.

And I don't know how much dessert Grandma had provided, but there wasn't any left. Every container looked like it'd been licked clean.

Bob and Pam were trying to figure out what to do with the hutch. Bob's sister was to get their mother's wedding China, which resided inside, but no one had need of (or space for) the piece of furniture itself.

"I don't mind hanging onto it for now," I said. "It fills a space that would just be blank wall, otherwise. If one of the grandkids or even great-grandkids decide they want it, you know where to find it."

"That oughta work," Bob grunted. "Just have to let Sissy know for whoever gets the China next."

That left us to decide what to do with the China itself. There were plenty of boxes left in the garage, but proper wrapping material was an issue. Pam wasn't about to give her sister-in-law the opportunity to pick a fight because "Momma's China" got chipped (or worse) in transit.

Fortunately, the cavalry arrived before we did anything stupid, like let males get anywhere close to the stuff.

"Knock-knock," Grandma called through the open door. "How y'all gettin' along?"

"Come on in," Pam said, appearing pleased to have feminine reinforcements. "We're tryin' to figure out what to do with Mrs. Osborne's China. I don't think wrapping it in old newspapers will be enough."

"Oh, I've got tons of bubble wrap," Arlene said. "Marie, you know where it is. Take some of the girls and get that big roll. There's lots of loose sheets, too, on those shelves. They should work on the teacups and saucers. Do you need tape?"

"Couldn't hurt," Bob grunted.

"A roll of packing tape, as well, Marie," the redhead said.

"Yes, ma'am," the little waif said, taking Jo, Lupita and a couple of my girlfriends to assist with the assignment.

Then most of the rest of our lunch guests — including Karen with her blouse properly buttoned — flooded in and began fanning out. I was surprised the house could hold them all. Between the two events, we had about 50 people squeezing in there. Women headed toward the master suite and girls took a look upstairs, but most of us beings with Y chromosomes were forced to the utility room/sun porch in back or outside.

I was in the latter group and figured getting the empty boxes from the garage might be a good idea. That reminded me that I needed to make a decision on the desk. With it out of the way, there'd be enough room for two cars.

As I carried the boxes out of the garage, I encountered the next bit of craziness on the side of the driveway next to the alley.

"Hi," the girl who'd been sitting next to Rhonda said with a cute smile.

"Hi," I replied, having to turn sideways to see around the boxes.

I judged the girl to be maybe 14, about the same speed as Stephanie Tucker. Or maybe an early developing 13-year-old like my cousin Kinsey. Cute, but on the verge of blossoming into something spectacular.

"I'm Lainey," she said.

"I'm Gary," I said.

"I know," she giggled. "I just wanted to tell you I really don't want to have a baby with you right now. I just did that to get rise out of my sister."

Great, another scheming female.

"That's good to know," I grunted.

"Why doesn't she like you?" the girl asked. "You seem like a nice guy."

"Lainey, get your butt back in here!" Rhonda screeched from Arlene's French windows before I could reply. "Mrs. Johnson said he's not supposed to have any contact with us!"

"I was just sayin' hi," the girl frowned petulantly as my classmate came stomping toward us.

I'd better contact Eddie Galvan's dad about yard care. My front lawn was getting stomped to death today.

"Get in the house," Rhonda snapped, grabbing her sister by the arm and pulling her in that direction. "We're almost ready to go."

Then Rhonda rounded on me with a look that I'm sure was meant to kill.

"And you stay away from my sister," she snarled. "She's been through enough already."

I just stood there staring as the girls retreated to Arlene's. I don't know what Rhonda's deal was. I just wanted her to leave me alone.

"What was that all about?" Chuck asked, coming up to take some of the boxes from me.

"No fuckin' clue," I mumbled.

"She really doesn't like you, dude," Jed snorted, taking a few more boxes.

"Yeah," I grunted. "I'll just have to get over it."

We delivered the boxes inside moments before Marie and her crew returned with the bubble wrap. When Arlene said she had a big roll, she wasn't lying. The damn thing looked to be almost four feet in radius and five feet long. It definitely required two girls to carry because of its bulk, if not its weight.

Marie, Jo and Lupita each carried stacks of sheets that reached their chins. I think we could wrap the whole house in the stuff!

The women descended on the hutch, again forcing all males out of the room. They would take the dishes out and have the girls wrap and pack them in the boxes. Us males would eventually be allowed to ferry the loaded boxes to the U-Haul.

By now, it was warm enough that going outside wasn't so bad. Bob decided it was a good time to check out the tool shed in the backyard. Good thing I had a key.

The shed contained a little electric push mower that would be enough for the front and back lawns if you didn't let the grass get too thick. I was still in favor of hiring the Galvans. I mean, I'm a billionaire. Why should I do all the grunt work? Maybe I could pass it down to a son one day like Dad did with me.

There were also things like a weedeater, clippers and an electric hedge trimmer, which I thought was odd because the place didn't have any hedges. Brad was only too happy to claim it for his house. Couldn't hurt to have two.

Then there were rakes, brooms and a big industrial trash can that was used for clippings. At least that's what I thought based on all the old grass coating the inside.

With that out of the way, I asked about the desk sitting in the garage. Bob didn't really have a place for it at home or his business, but wanted to take a look simply because it was his dad's. We agreed to give it the same status as the hutch — I'd hang on to it in the event one of the kids or grandkids decided they wanted it.

Bob at least thought to look through the drawers, which turned out to be a good thing. They were all full of files. Emptying them would make the desk easier to move.

Most of the files pertained to Mr. Osborne's business, which Bob had taken over, and dated back more than 50 years. Bob thought he had most of that at his office, but took these just in case. If nothing else, it'd give him info on the company's history.

One drawer turned out to contain family documents — the original birth certificates for Bob and his sister, a copy of Gladys Osborne's will that was more than 30 years old and probably needed updating, personal tax returns dating back to before the Osbornes bought the house. I knew Mom would recommend keeping the last seven years of tax returns just to keep the IRS happy.

Guys were dispatched to reclaim a few boxes from the women — we'd delivered more than enough for the dishes — and we got to work transferring files from drawer to box.

We were almost finished when the G Squad arrived. Gen. Rackham was the one not dressed for golf. I was surprised to see him. I thought he'd gone back to Virginia.

"You were supposed to be done by the time we got here," my grandfather groused, making me think he hadn't been the big winner on the course for once.

"We almost are," I said, "but lunch got in the way. The ladies are inside packing Mrs. Osborne's China, then I was going to see about moving this desk into Mr. Osborne's home office. The only thing left will be to load some chairs from the living room."

"At least you survived lunch, young man," Mr. Patterson smirked, wasting no time in yanking my chain. "I was offered a sizeable wager on whether you would. I should have taken it."

I could only imagine just who made that offer, but I was willing to bet that person had the same last name as me.

I took the opportunity to introduce George Patterson to Bob and Brad Osborne since we were all in the same place at the moment.

"Brad had an idea I'd like you to discuss with him," I said to the rich and powerful man. "Why don't y'all go inside while we finish up here?"

It wasn't long before the dishes and files were all packed and my teammates began toting more boxes to the U-Haul. I noticed Pam Osborne personally escorting the group toting the China, constantly reminding them to be careful and not drop anything. It was as close as I ever expect to come to seeing a bull in a China shop.

I corralled four linemen to tackle the desk. There was a door from the garage opening onto a hallway that led to the master suite. The issue was making a 90-degree left turn into the living room followed by a 90-degree right turn into the office. And we'd probably have to take the door off its hinges to get the desk through the doorway.

Jed proposed the alternate route of through the front door, which was wider, and living room. We might have to move the couch a few feet, but that would create almost a straight shot to the office.

The fly in the ointment was Brad, George and the general were seated on the couch with Bob and Grandpa occupying the recliners. The only things missing were a bottle (or two) of Jack, glasses and ice.

Our options were to make the men move, force the women out so we could move the hutch — thus creating enough space we could go around the couch — or wait. We waited.

During our wait, Pam Osborne commandeered a couple of guys and Arlene's roll of bubble wrap. She thought they ought to put a layer around the dresser her granddaughter was getting. Don't want the finish getting damaged.

I thought it was overkill. An old blanket should do just fine. But what do I know? I'm just a guy.

Besides, all that bedding was loaded in the U-Haul. It'd be too much trouble to get it out and dig through it again.

That project allowed the men to wrap up their discussion. Brad promised to have a business proposal to George by next weekend.

The couch was easy enough to move with no one sitting on it. Doing so revealed two banks of electrical outlets set into the floor, something I'd never seen before. There were 16 plugs available, more than enough for a couple of lamps. I'd be able to plug in all my gizmos while relaxing on the couch.

I just had to make sure Marshawn wasn't hogging it.

Getting the desk into the office took some wrangling. We finally tipped it on one end and angled it through. Good thing we left the drawers out.

With that finally done, Grandpa had us drag six of the dining chairs in there while the Osbornes had guys start loading the recliners. They needed to get on the road, but Bob would return tomorrow night or Monday morning.

Grandma and Miss Carla joined the G Squad and me and the door was closed. I felt only marginally safer than I had at lunch.

"First order of business," Grandpa said, "you're gettin' me one of them recliners for when I come over. Bob told me why they were takin' ’em. I'll give ya ’til Christmas."

"I've already ordered two — same model and manufacturer — to be delivered next week along with some other things he's going to need," Grandma said. "I can't believe there wasn't a coffee maker in the kitchen."

"While we're on the subject," I said, "what about for this room? I think it's going to replace Arlene's apartment as my place to hide sooner or later. I was thinking some kind of lounge chair or daybed in addition to the office furniture."

"I've got some ideas," Grandma said. "We can talk about it later."

"Second order of business," Mr. Patterson said, pulling out an envelope very much like the one he'd given me two weeks ago, "your new Cayman National card in the name of GDR, Inc. It needs your signature, but all board members are authorized to use it for GDR purchases. I think your grandmother furnishing the house qualifies."

"Yes, sir," I said, accepting the envelope. "Does anyone have a pen? My backpack's in the apartment. That's where I keep mine."

Grandma dug around in her purse for one and I used the desk to sign a document for the first time. I went with "Garret D. Robinson," thinking that somehow made it more official, and handed the pen and card back to my grandmother. I hoped she'd take good care of it, but I've been shopping with her before. I expected the card to get a good workout.

"Now for the real purpose of this meeting," Gen. Rackham said. "Tell us what you know about this Westmoreland woman and why you think she was involved in the white slavery ring."

I related the story of taking Josephine Kerns under my protection — leaving out the sex, but I got the feeling Grandma and Miss Carla already knew, which meant the men knew — and the comment about Lois "helping" underprivileged girls get into a school somewhere near Brownsville named "something like Our Lady of the River" that guaranteed placement upon graduation.

"It was too much of a coincidence," I said. "I have no names or dates, so I couldn't tell you where those girls may be now. Jo didn't handle my questions very well, but she'd had a pretty traumatic day. If your people talk to her, it might be best to have Dr. Ramakrishnan there."

"If Lois Westmoreland was connected to these people, might Julia Fairchild also have been?" Mr. Patterson mused.

"I have no idea," I said. "I never heard of any models going missing except for Zander Caufield. I couldn't say if she played any role in steering him toward de la Vega."

"But it's worth looking into," Gen. Rackham said grimly. "On another matter, I've decided to accept your offer of last week. We removed 25,000 kilograms, leaving you with 475,000. Your grandparents and I are still hashing out the details, but you're going to be covered as long as Tri-Star's in business. Assets are already in place surveilling the cartels involved in the Matamoros affair. It appears Trujillo was Oaxaca's sole link to you, we just don't know how much he reported back before he was removed from the equation. My people think he was more interested in finding their money than gathering intelligence."

The general then showed me he was keeping up with local events, a least as they pertained to me.

"Capt. Johnson will get the latest version of your key fob to you in the next few days," he said. "I advise you to keep the one attached to your student ID. Keep a panic button within reach at all times. In fact, you should be wearing it now even if you aren't in school."

"Yes, sir," I said.

"And this one will have that tracker?" Grandpa asked.

"Yes," Miss Carla smirked. "We'll know if he gets too close to the convent."

"Or Alexandria," the general snorted. "If he does, I'll order one we can rig to blow up in his pocket. That ought to fix the problem."

"I'm not looking for more girlfriends!" I protested.

"And yet you still keep finding more," Mr. Patterson smirked. "How many are you up to now?"

"Seventeen as of lunch today," Miss Carla said, apparently including Lupita, "all of whom expressed a desire to have his children. We'd better keep an eye on Ms. Dwyer's daughters. One acted like she's ready to get in line and the other wants to eliminate him on general principle. What'd you do to that girl?"

"Nothing," I said. "She just doesn't like me. I try to stay away from her and she keeps showing up. And the younger one didn't help by raising her hand when they were asked about having babies. She said she just did it to rile up Rhonda, who doesn't need riling up."

"Well, the independent study program should help with that," Grandma said. "Out of sight is out of mind."

"And I'll have a word with Miss Devers," Miss Carla said. "Maybe I can convince her to calm down where Gary's concerned."

Please do, I thought.

I had my own order of business to ask about while I had those in the know in one room.

"Where do things stand with the Tanner place, particularly the 320?" I asked.

"The road contractor got started a couple of days ago," Grandpa said. "Should be done by Thursday if it doesn't rain."

"And we'll start moving what's left in the barn as soon as they're out of there," Mr. Patterson said. "Tom has the heavy haulers standing by. If everything goes as planned, we'll have it on its way to Antwerp before Thanksgiving. Zurich two days after making port. We'll have your account set up by Dec. 1."

The "if everything goes as planned" part was what worried me.

"Are federal agencies going to be a problem?" I asked.

"Not likely," the general grinned wickedly. "The ones we met last week have all moved on to other investigations. It seems a suspected Mexican druglord, a few of his associates and a known Mexican drug cartel enforcer were found dead a couple hundred miles away."

"Just so there's no connection to us," I muttered.

"Pretty sure this ain't Tom's first rodeo," Grandpa said. "De la Vega's had a price on his head for a long time. Bit of a surprise no one's stepped forward to claim it."

With the important stuff covered, the G Squad and Grandma excused themselves. I got a little nervous when Miss Carla held back, closing the door behind them.

"Just to be clear, you stay away from the convent," she said with a glint in her eye. "I don't need another 16 cases like Lupita."

"That's not going to be a problem," I promised. "I don't want my name connected to it and I don't need 16 more girls trying to get in line. The ones who have are more than I can handle."

"I'll talk to Rhonda, see if I can convince he to be a little less antagonistic toward you," the security lady said.

"I appreciate it," I said. "It'd help if she didn't think my every move was designed to get her into bed. I don't mind helping someone who needs it, but she seems to think I have ulterior motives."

"Well, she is dealing with a limited sample size," Miss Carla said. "She won't say if that stepfather of hers did anything to her or her sister, but her mother's the classic abused woman. I hope you don't mind me intervening there."

"You do what you think's best," I said. "That's why I asked Dr. Ramakrishnan to talk to her. I just wasn't expecting to add Lupita and the others to that workload."

"Speaking of her, watch yourself there," Miss Carla said.

"With Lupita? I'm doing my best to keep my distance," I swore.

"She's just a matter of time," Miss Carla smirked. "I mean Chanda. I'm just glad she wasn't out there when they asked about having your babies."

The security lady was out the door before I could respond. Not that I could have formulated a response to that.

I am not looking for another girlfriend! But the Punjabi bint would certainly be a candidate if I was.

Before I could gather my wits enough to leave the room, Morgan entered carrying my backpack and closed the door behind her. From her expression, a mix of bashful and pissed off, something was up. I was trying to figure out how much was my fault.

"Ready for tonight?" I asked, leaning in for a smooch.

"That's what we need to talk about," she blushed, stopping me short. "I'm not going anywhere tonight. Mom's in one of her moods again. She thinks signing one of those contracts is going to make me a kept woman."

Uh, isn't that what marriage is, a man promising to provide for the upkeep of his mate and their children? This just left out the church wedding, which I don't think any of the high school girls were ready for. Yet. I know I wasn't.

"I guess I'll get my reading done for school, then," I said, a little disappointed at having our date canceled so abruptly.

"Not unless you can get it done in the next hour," Morgan said. "Elise will pick you up at 6:30. You should probably shower and change clothes first."

Elise? I guess I can kiss early graduation goodbye. That'd just be the start of what Dr. Stirling would do to me. I'm pretty sure my lab partner had no intention of going home unsullied after what happened Thursday.

"So, are you still my girlfriend?" I asked with more than a little trepidation.

"You better believe it, boyo," my still first official girlfriend grinned. "We just need to cool it until my mother settles down. We may have to skip December, too, but you can still buy me a Christmas present."

"I'll dress up as Santa and you can sit in my lap and tell me what's on your wish list," I smirked.

"Don't tease me," the little elf said, bopping me on the arm. "The other girls will insist on a turn if they hear about it. Beth would leave her panties off and ask if she's been naughty or nice."

And would probably set a precedent for the others. Does anyone know where I rent a Santa suit around here? I'm sure I need to reserve one now if I was going to pull this off. It's less than two weeks to Thanksgiving and Black Friday.

"For some reason, Daddy wasn't nearly as upset about the whole deal as I thought he'd be," Morgan continued, keeping me from getting too carried away with the whole Santa idea, but I wondered how hard it would be to find 16 (17? 18?) sexy elf costumes. "He said you can afford to get all of us knocked up. Which brings up another point."

"What's that?" I asked, hoping I hadn't missed a key point while fantasizing about so many sexy elf girls who'd somehow misplaced their lacy unmentionables sitting on my lap.

"What else was in that trailer you found Lupita in?" she asked. "Did you really find billions of dollars like the guy in your story?"

Damn, she was staring me in the eyes. There was no way I could avoid telling her the truth. But I gave it a try, anyway.

"I did see what appeared to be pallets of cash," I said truthfully, "but I don't know how much. For all I know, there could have been smaller denominations in there with the hundred-dollar bills I saw. And there's a chance it's all counterfeit. Mr. Patterson has people counting and verifying authenticity, but I haven't heard anything yet."

"But if it is all real?" she husked with a nostril flare.

"There were no more than 38 pallets in the trailer Lupita was in," I said, again feeling like a bunny as I looked into those pretty brown eyes. "She rode in a space that would have held two."

"That's not what I asked," she snapped. "And just how many trailers were there?"

I don't know if I'd said too much or if she was just taking a stab in the dark. Or maybe she was just reading my mind again, in which case she should already know the answer.

"Four," I croaked, unable to stop myself.

"So, 158 pallets with possibly $64 million each ..." she started before her eyes went wide (had she really just done the math in her head that fast?).

The next thing I knew, I had a tongue down my throat and two Morgan-sized dents in my torso.

"You are sooo taking me shopping in Paris for my birthday!" she panted upon coming up for air.

"Your dad said we have to wait until summer when school's out," I reminded her, thinking it was a good thing she didn't know about the gold.

"School will be out for spring break in March," she countered. "My birthday's the week before. That should be enough time for everybody who can go to get passports. I've already filled out online applications for you and me. We just need to schedule a trip to the post office."

Under normal circumstances, I would have wondered how she'd gotten my information, forgetting Kacie or maybe Mom could have given it to her. But with the taste of a very pretty girl's kiss on my lips and the fact those lips were mere inches away, I went in for another kiss. It was the only way I could think of to stop her talking.

We moaned into each other's mouths as the kiss heated up and a hand found its way under her shirt to squeeze a boob (had she gotten even bigger?) when we bumped into the desk. I boosted her up to sit on the top, then dropped to my knees between her thighs, my hands going to the fastening of her jeans.

"What are you doing?" she gasped as I lowered the zipper.

"Showing my first official girlfriend how much I love her," I growled, stealing a line from Elise while grabbing the waistbands of jeans and panties to get the fabric off her butt.

"But you need to save something for Elise tonight," she protested while lifting her hips to assist me.

"I will," I said. "Think of this as your reward for so selflessly giving up your turn for her."

With her thighs bared, I figured I had enough room to work and dived in tongue-first.

Lips, nips, sucks, slurps soon had her juicing up. I just started working my way through the list of tactics Arlene had taught me when two hands clamped onto my head and pulled me close as she started shaking. I didn't even get to my old reliable — finger on the G-spot, lips on the clit — when she went off with a cry and pushed me away.

I won't claim I made her squirt, but I did think I needed to get a desk blotter. This would hardly be the last time I had one of my girlfriends on the desk. A vision of Karen being bent over it flashed through my mind.

"You keep doing that to me," Morgan gasped as I wiped my face and stood, "I'll tell Mom to get stuffed. I may not be your wife, but I'll damn sure be one of your mistresses."

"As you wish," I grinned, pulling her up for a soulful kiss.

I helped Morgan stand on wobbly legs and get her clothing back in order.

"You'd better shower, wash your face and brush your teeth," she said as she regained her equilibrium. "I don't think Elise is ready to taste another girl on you just yet."

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

I walked her the few steps to the office door and opened it to find Marie sporting a knowing grin and holding a hanger with one of my Oxford cloths and a pair of slacks.

"That sounded fun," the little waif smirked, holding out the clothes and a toilet kit. "Here, Daddy, I brought your stuff for tonight. You'd better get showered. Elise will be here before you know it."