The Loving Way

By Carol Gregory

The Loving Way is an erotic detective adventure featuring the smart and sexy Petra Jameson. Ms. Jameson uses her body and brains to battle blackmail and murder. She uses all her talents to confront the cult leaders of the Church of the Loving Way. Set in Anaheim, California in 1970, this adventure spotlights the dark side of the sexual revolution in every combination imaginable.

This novel is for adults only. If you are offended by descriptions of sexual intimacy, sex between women, sex among groups, blackmail, violence and murder, this book is not for you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carol Gregory
• Release date: Mar 30, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301613946

Carol Gregory

Carol GregoryCarol Gregory was an amazing woman. She was born in 1942 and died too young in 2012. She was known to me as Cousin Carol. She was quite a bit older than me growing up. She was known as a wild child in the 60’s. The family tried to keep me away from her because she was a bad influence. They failed.Carol was a stunningly beautiful woman. She graduated UCLA with a degree in History. She held a few jobs, was married and divorced by the time she was twenty-three. In 1968 I was reintroduced to my cousin. She was living in a house she owned in Anaheim, California. I was just fifteen and in awe of this older woman. She helped me with my homework, patiently listened to my teenage concerns from driving, dating, to college selection. She was hip and with it in the pop culture.Carol completed law school and worked in the Orange County District Attorney’s Office. She ultimately was appointed to the Orange County Municipal Court. A few years later she became a Superior Court judge. She knew how to be discrete with her many lovers.By the time I started college Carol tutored me in a more prurient education. We became occasional lovers. She taught me how to please a woman. I lived with her during my last year at college. I still dated. Carol had boyfriends and girlfriends. She taught me tolerance, patience, and how to make a lover call your name out in ecstasy.Even after college we remained close. I was married and had my own family. She was close to my family.Carol never married again. I know she had many lovers because she loved to describe every intimate moment. I am sure she broke hearts, but she would forever remain independent. She was always sexy and bold.Carol Gregory passed suddenly with a brain aneurism. I was named as her sole heir. She had amassed a comfortable estate. It took me many months before I worked up the energy to begin to go through her house and possessions.One Saturday afternoon I stumbled upon a box in her closet. In the box were manuscripts for novels and stories she had written over decades. True to form, they were all erotic novels. She had a series of detective stories about a heroine named Petra Jameson. The name Jameson, I am sure, came from her favorite whiskey. She loved Jamesons Reserve Irish Whiskey. The physical description was Carol, although Carol never took a bullet in the hip. The sex was pure Carol.Carol’s love of history is echoed in her stories. Her stories around England’s Glorious Revolution are a good example. She makes history exciting.I have been going through the writings and putting them together so others can enjoy them. Carol would want to share them with the world. I hope you enjoy them.Carol Gregory loved the works of Dorothy Parker and would quote her often. Her favorite in was: “Now I know the things I know, and I do the things I do; and if you do not like me so, to hell, my love, with you!”GFComments are welcome at [e-mail]

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The Loving Way

Carol Gregory

Copyright 2013 Carol Gregory

License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Table of Contents

PROLOGUE

1. THE JUDGE

2. SHEILA

3. SHEILA'S HUSBAND

4. THE BARBECUE

5. LE BELLE AURORE

6. SHEILA'S NIGHT OUT

7. ROOMATES

8. RELAXING WITH SHEILA

9. CHURCH OF THE LOVING WAY

10. WESSON OIL PARTY

11. RICH PLEASURE

12. STAKEOUT

13. NIGHTMARE SEX

14. NORMA DICKINSON

15. HAPPY HOUR

16. CHURCH BUSINESS

17. PARTY NIGHT

18. THE RAID

19. THE SHOWDOWN

PROLOGUE

NOVEMBER 29, 1969

On November 29, 1969, the Anaheim Police Department received a call shortly before noon. A patrol car was dispatched to Sage Park. Boys were playing a game of over the line behind the La Palma Little League field. A ball went into the landfill behind the park. Two of the boys went into the landfill area to find their ball. What they found instead was a burlap sack. One of the boys looked inside the sack. He discovered the naked body of a young woman who was very dead.

The patrolmen found the ball and tossed it to the boys. They got the name, address and telephone number of the boy who found the body. They secured the area as the boys ran home to tell their story.

Detectives arrived. The coroner was called. It was the day after Thanksgiving and response was slow. The lead detective was Frank Boyer. Boyer and his young partner, Mike Blake, found nothing to suggest how the body got there. There were footprints and every type of junk strewn about the area. The coroner arrived. Pictures were taken. The body was removed by the Orange County Coroner's Office.

Monday afternoon a preliminary report was done, pending conclusion of the autopsy. The woman had been in her early twenties. There were over twenty-five stab wounds. There were signs that the victim had sexual relations prior to death, lots of sexual relations. The body had pretty much bled out before being put in the bag. The bag was a large burlap sack with nothing to distinguish it from any other burlap sack.

The official autopsy report was on Boyer's desk by noon on Wednesday. Fingerprints did not reveal an identity. The victim had been stabbed by a large knife twenty-eight times all over the front of the torso, neck and face. There were three separate knife wounds in the vaginal area. The attack was vicious.

The report found semen in her stomach, vagina, hair, and on her breasts and neck. Blood types for the semen were of no real help because so many were present.

The time of death was approximated at eleven in the evening on November 28, 1969, Thanksgiving night. The most bizarre part of the report was the presence of turkey shreds in her vagina. She was listed as a Jane Doe. Everyone handling the case called her turkey girl.

Boyer showed the report to Blake. Hooker? Blake suggested.

Doubt it. No hit on the prints, Boyer responded.

With no leads, the file began to collect dust.

1. THE JUDGE

THURSDAY, JANUARY 15, 1970

January 15, 1970, was a Thursday. It was cool, sweater weather. I was suckered into attending a dinner at the Registry Hotel in Santa Ana for women in business. I suppose it was something as a female business owner I should do, but it seemed a bore. My partner and I had a small investigative agency we had just opened. Al Wilson was a retired cop from the Anaheim Police Department. He had worked with my Dad, who had passed the year earlier following a bad car wreck. Al was not real interested in working the business, but he had great connections and could bring in clients. I had worked for the Orange County Marshal's Office for five years before I took a bullet in my left hip. It hurt on cool days like that day.

I pulled into the Registry Hotel across from Orange County Airport and parked behind the hotel. I was early and there was a bar. I figured I could make the evening go easier with a little lubrication.

Airport hotel bars are probably the same all over the world. Drinks are overpriced. Business travelers are either entertaining for business or, usually, looking to pass a boring evening and maybe get lucky. It was crowded, but not overflowing. I saw someone getting up from a seat at the bar and made my way there in time to get it. The bartender took my order, a gin gimlet. I sat with about a half hour to kill.

The crowd was mostly male. There were three women at a table, probably attending the same rubber chicken event as I was. There were two couples. I was the only unattached female. I speculated how long before the first hit would take place. It took less than three minutes. A guy who looked about forty-five sauntered up to me, a beer in his hand. I figured I needed to make an example to be left alone.

He was wearing a gray suit, no tie, and collar open. He had a couple of drinks in him already. He was not bad looking and I had a pang of guilt for what I was about to do, but that quickly passed.

Hi gorgeous, he started. I could sure use some company. Why don't you come over to my table? He gave me his best million dollar smile.

I looked in his eyes long enough to make him hope. I reached my hand down between his legs and felt his crotch. I quickly pulled back my hand and shook my head. Sorry, buddy, I said. You don't measure up.

His face turned red and he slunk back to his table. A bunch of guys at the table next to his started laughing so hard I thought they would fall out of their seats. I turned back to my drink and ignored everyone.

At a quarter to seven I paid my tab and found the room for the event. I checked in and got my Hello My Name Is tag and went in. There was an open bar in the back with beer and wine. I got something red and found a table that was half empty towards the rear. There was a podium and about twenty tables total. The faces in the crowd were varied, older and younger, most were white, but there were a couple of Hispanics. Most were professionally attired. I wore a simple outfit with a light blue top and a long, dark blue skirt. I wore a long striped sweater. I did not own too many dresses. This was about as conservative as I could look. My hair was shorter than most, not quite reaching my collar. At five foot, nine inches I was probably the tallest woman in the room. I wore only a two inch heel so I would not tower over everyone.

Introductions were made around the table and cards were exchanged. Two women ran a flower shop. One gal was a realtor. Another was an interior decorator. I stuck out as the oddball. The talk was trite. I did my best to act interested. No, I was not looking to sell my house, but if I knew someone I would of course hand out her card. If I ever had to send flowers, now I knew someone. Finally, I agreed it was a wonderful idea to have someone with better taste than mine to pick out my wall hangings.

I was seriously thinking about leaving when someone tapped on my shoulder and sat down next to me. Thank God there is someone I know, said the voice.

I turned, Judge Sumner, I said.

Call me Annie. We are not in court, she replied.

When I worked in the Marshal's office Judge Sumner was my favorite judge. If I ever needed something signed she was the one I tried to go to. She was always friendly and always very attentive. Annie was small, but not quite petite. She had dark wavy hair but just above the collar. Her eyes were a deep blue. She had a nose that was a little too sharp and a slight overbite. She was trim and shapely. She looked to be in her mid-forties. She was quite attractive.

I miss seeing you around, she said. I heard they forced you to take disability retirement after you were hurt.

I tried to work civil warrants, but I knew I was limited in what they would let me do. I feel pretty good, but every once in a while it hurts. I guess it always will.

What brings you here? she asked.

I have a little investigative business with Al Wilson, if you remember him.

Yes, I think so. Good for you. How is it going?

Well, we have some work. Al knows plenty of attorneys who do insurance defense work, so we have enough to keep us busy. We do some missing persons, but that is not real lucrative.

The dinner was getting started. 'Let's talk later," she said.

The emcee took the microphone. She made some introductions, including Judge Sumner. Food was served as the program continued. I played with the beef which was covered in brown gravy, no doubt designed to hide the meat. A speaker droned on with something about sisterhood and working together. Dessert was the best part of the meal. It was edible cheesecake. The emcee got up to make some awards. Thankfully the acceptance speeches were short.

As we broke up Judge Sumner asked me to wait for her. She circulated, greeting several people. She came back to me and asked me to go with her. We walked out towards the front desk. The bar was still busy.

I was going to suggest we have a drink. I may have need of your services, but it is too public here. Do you have some place to be? she asked.

No, I am on my own time. What did you have in mind?

She wrote an address down in a card and handed it to me. This is my address. We live in Cowan Heights, about twenty minutes from here. Can you follow me or meet me?"

She had my interest. Lead the way. We walked out back to the parking lot. Her Cadillac DeVille was parked not far from my 68 Barracuda fastback. I followed her on the Newport Freeway to Newport Avenue, and up to Cowan Heights.

I had no trouble keeping up with the judge. Cowan Heights is an upscale neighborhood with streets that curve around the hills. I was familiar with the area, but had never been in a house there. Judge Sumner lived in a beautiful split level. I parked on the street and followed her into the garage. She parked the Cadillac and I walked with her into the house. She showed me into their den.

I am having a seven and seven. Can I get you anything? she offered.

I'll have the same without the Seven Up.

She smiled and got some ice and poured the drinks. She excused herself and changed. She returned wearing a robe and was barefoot. She said her husband owned a restaurant and did not get home until late. My curiosity grew.

I want to hire you to investigate my husband and his restaurant. He has a restaurant and bar. He has run it for seven years. He was doing very well until last year. He is still very busy, but is showing no profit. I don't know if he is running it wrong or if he is hiding money from me. He has been very tense and I cannot talk with him. I need information.

Judge, restaurants are tough businesses. Have you seen the books? I asked.

Call me Annie, please. I have seen the books and, frankly, I don't think he is hiding money. But there is something he is not telling me. She poured us another round.

Could there be a girlfriend? I asked.

Annie laughed, No. No chance of that. Our marriage is a bit unusual. Marty, how shall I put it, likes the men. We have an understanding. I adore him. He likes to have sex with me occasionally, but I think it is the intimacy he likes. I know I don't turn him on like a male partner. Still, we have always had respect for each other and have been honest with each other. At least, I think so.

It must be hard on you, I thought aloud.

Annie smiled, I have had a few discreet friends. With my position I have to be careful. But I do okay. He has his partners and I have mine.

So, what do you envision me doing for you, I asked.

Get to know the restaurant and Marty. Go over the books and see if I have missed something. See what is happening there.

We went over my fees and Annie wrote a check. The name of the restaurant is Le Belle Aurore.. It is on Euclid near La Palma in Anaheim

I think I know it, I said. I'll check it out tomorrow."

Now, let's talk about you, she said. Are you involved?

Me? No. My divorce was final. Then I got shot. Then I was dealing with physical therapy and getting the business going. I've had a few dates, but nothing serious. I'm not sure I am ready for serious.

How about something casual? Annie said.

Such as? I responded.

Annie stood up and walked over to my chair, leaned over and kissed me gently on the lips. When I didn't push her away she kissed me again, harder. She let her robe open and stood exposed in front of me. I looked at her small breasts, her red nipples before my eyes. Without thinking I leaned over and took one in my mouth, sucking it as she pulled away.

Annie took me by the hand and led me into the master bedroom. She turned on a lamp on the nightstand and stood me next to her immense king bed. She helped me out of my blouse and unzipped my skirt. I stood next to Annie, who sat on the bed. She ran her finger over the scar on my left hip, then leaned over and kissed it. She slipped my panties down and ran her fingers through by blond pubic hair.

I have not felt the touch of another woman since college, I said. And then it was only one person, my roommate.

You are an incredible looking woman, Annie said. You are tall, strong, and so solid. She reached behind me and grabbed the cheeks of my ass. I stiffened them. Wow, you have an incredible ass. Your legs are firm and muscular, legs you could build an empire on.

Annie pulled me next to her on the bed. She unhooked my bra and pushed me back on the bed. My hair was in my face. She brushed it out of my eye and laid down on top of me, pressing the flesh of her body into mine. I reached behind her and hugger her tight, enjoying the flesh on flesh sensation. We kissed again, our tongues exploring each other's mouth. She kissed my ears and the side of my face. She worked her way down to my neck, licking it and licking down to my breasts. She sucked my nipples for several minutes. My hands reached behind her and ran down the length of her back.

You have wonderful breasts, Annie said. You have a magnificent body.

She kissed my navel and ran her hand between my legs. Annie massaged my labia, slipping a forefinger into my pussy. She fingered me and massaged my clit with her thumb. It felt really good.

It's been a long time since anyone touched me, I said.

She continued to massage between my legs. She then lowered her body and slipped her tongue into my cunt. She lapped my juices and ran her tongue around my entire box. Her hands were behind me, massaging my ass.

Annie, that feels wonderful, I whispered.

She began to flick her tongue over my clit. I felt the warm sensation of arousal, but I didn't want to rush it. I pulled Annie's legs over me so her bush was in my face. I buried my mouth in her cunt, mimicking the licking she was giving me. I slipped a finger into my mouth to moisten it, and then slipped it in her ass. She not only offered no resistance, but purred as she pressed against my face. I orally attacked her, working her into frenzy. I could hold out no longer and had an incredible orgasm. I stopped eating her momentarily to catch my breath. Annie maintained her attention, working me two a second then a third orgasm. I had to stop her it was so intense.

Annie rolled off of me onto her back. I got on my knees and bent over her pussy. I picked up my clit licking, slipping two fingers into her twat to massage her g-spot. Within a couple of minutes she began to squirm and twist, but I held her firm, riding with her motions. She yelled a cry and her pussy flooded. She came repeatedly. I slowly released her clitoris.

I leaned back on the pillows and held her close as we regained our breathing. She started laughing. I started laughing. It was fabulous.

Your honor, is my motion granted? I said.

Oh, yeah, she laughed. I love a good oral motion.

I got up and dressed. Annie walked me to her door. We kissed for a second. I headed home.

The drive home was about twenty minutes. I thought about the evening that started with the thoughts of boredom and ended with excitement. I lived in my Dad's old house off of Westmont Drive in Anaheim. It was the home I lived in from junior high school through my second year at college, when I moved out. My folks divorced and my Mom remarried. My Dad got the house. After his accident I moved in. He had fortunately put me on the house as a joint tenant. It was now in my name. I thought about selling it, but I had fond memories of the house and was comfortable there. It was weird sometimes. Even though I had the whole place to myself, I slept in my old room in my own bed. It was about 11:30 when I pulled into the garage. I turned on the Tonight Show, poured a Coke, sat on the couch with my feet up, and thought about my assignment. Jonathan Winters was Carson's guest. I liked him ever since It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, World. Then I crashed in bed and dreamed of Annie and Jonathon Winters. It was a strange dream.

2. SHEILA

FRIDAY, JANUARY 16, 1973

Friday I slept in. About eight I dragged myself to the kitchen and started the percolator. A shower and bowl of corn flakes later I headed over to the office. We sublet an office in the Euclid Professional Building from some attorneys on the third floor. We were not there much and the phone got answered.

Al was there. He had a lead on a trace we were working on from a client out of Houston. A missing wife supposedly was living in Buena Park with a couple of kids. He had a several pictures of them and was willing to check it out. I described the case I had picked up. He knew the judge professionally, of course. We agreed to discuss strategy that afternoon.

As soon as Al left, Jay Walter walked in my office. Walter was a pain in the ass. He had the master lease and was our landlord. Walter was in his early forties, had never been married, and probably rarely got laid without paying for it. That would not get changed by me, no matter how hard he tried. He was a short man with a round face. He looked like Charlie Brown. His clothes needed pressing. He wore a brown belt with black shoes.

Why don't you let me buy you lunch? Walter said. We can get to know each other better. He smiled like a jack-o-lantern.

I smiled. I thought to myself that would never happen, but I replied, Thanks, but I have plans.

Fortunately a call came in from Judge Sumner. I spoke with her briefly. She told me that the cocktail waitress at the restaurant just had to quit. She asked me what I thought about taking the job, at