Mink Too, All the Riches in the World Can’t Buy Love

By B.L Wilson

Wealthy and spoiled Susan Drummond gets her thrills by throwing around her father’s considerable influence in the small southern town in which she lives. This includes messing with the town’s police force, most notably Sergeant Liz Gilmore, a New York City transplant with some issues of her own. The two lock horns and Liz is ordered to give sexy Susan swimming lessons to avoid being fired.

On the way home from this community service, Liz investigates a reported gas leak and instead is injured in a gas explosion in the process of saving Susan’s father’s life. As she recovers, she and Susan team up to find out who is responsible for the attempt on his life and the death of a security guard, but will the sparks between Liz and Susan set off more explosions in Mink Too, all the riches in the world can’t buy love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: B.L Wilson
• Release date: Mar 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311929242

B.L Wilson

B.L. has always been in love with books and the words in them. She never thought she could create something with the words she knew. When she read ‘To Kill A Mocking Bird,’ she realized everyday experiences could be written about in a powerful, memorable way. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with that knowledge so she kept on reading.Walter Mosley’s short stories about Easy Rawlins and his friends encouraged BL to start writing in earnest. She felt she had a story to tell...maybe several of them. She’d always kept a diary of some sort, scraps of paper, pocketsize, notepads, blank backs of agency forms, or in the margins of books. It was her habit to make these little notes to herself. She thought someday she’d make them into a book.She wrote a workplace memoir based on the people she met during her 20 years as a property manager of city-owned buildings. Writing the memoir, led her to consider writing books that were not job-related. Once again, she did...producing romance novels with African American lesbians as main characters. She wrote the novels because she couldn’t find stories that matched who she wanted to read about ...over forty, African American and female.

Book preview

Mink Too

All the riches in the world can’t buy love

by

B.L. Wilson

Mink Too

All the riches in the world can’t buy love

Brought to you by

Patchwork Bluez Press

Mink Too copyright 2016 by B. L. Wilson.

All rights reserved. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the author.

Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share

Edited by BZ Hercules www.bzhercules.com

Dedication

Sometimes, we think we are protecting our children by keeping secrets we think will hurt them. In reality those closely held secrets when exposed, hurt us and our children more than if we had simply sat down and talked to them.

To all those secrets keepers, now is the time to release them. Help your child understand why you did what you did and pray he or she will forgive you.

In the moment of crisis, the wise build bridges and the foolish build dams.

~ Nigerian proverb~

Make some money but don’t let money make you.

~Tanzania ~

Author’s Note

Mink Too, all the riches in the world can’t buy love was written and takes place in a time when technology was somewhat more simple. You will find references to flip phones and people not being as easy to reach as they are now. Social media was nonexistent, at least not like it is in the present day, and most of my characters did not feel incomplete without a laptop. Updating the technology might change the plot elements, so I have left the old-fashioned ways untouched and request that you enjoy this bit of nostalgia as it is written.

Thank you.

B.L. Wilson

Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE … Swimming and other lessons

CHAPTER TWO … The club, part I

CHAPTER THREE…Lessons learned are not forgotten

CHAPTER FOUR…Bang, bang you’re dead.

CHAPTER FIVE …The Gilmores

CHAPTER SIX … Another footnote

CHAPTER SEVEN … Going home

CHAPTER EIGHT …Who do you think I am?

CHAPTER NINE … At the club, part II

CHAPTER TEN…Scene of the crime

CHAPTER ELEVEN … And the jailhouse rocks

CHAPTER TWELVE … Mine, all mine

CHAPTER THIRTEEN …Water, water everywhere

CHAPTER FOURTEEN … County Lockup

EPILOGUE

THANK YOU FOR READING!

MORE BOOKS BY B.L. WILSON

CHAPTER ONE … Swimming and other lessons

The sleek black sports car zoomed past the unmarked patrol car, kicking up gray-brown dust and tiny pebbles of gravel as it continued down the quiet dirt road. The police officer sighed. She put the unmarked squad car in gear and sped after the little car. Jeez! This was the third time this month that she warned the crazy female driver about speeding. One of these days, the woman was going to kill somebody. She pressed the gas pedal down to the floorboard and felt the patrol car lurch forward as she tried to catch the expensive little car. The patrol car caught up with the little Jaguar ten miles down the road, but the driver drove another five miles before she brought her car to a full stop on the road’s shoulder.

The police officer, a female sergeant, touched the brim of her beige Stetson hat as she leaned down at the driver’s window. Good afternoon, Ma’am. I need to see your license and registration. She rested a hand on the gun at her side while she waited for the driver to comply with her instructions. Do you know why I stopped you, Ma’am?

No, Officer, I haven’t the slightest idea. The driver pretended innocence. Maybe you had nothing better to do on a hot afternoon. The woman behind the wheel smiled sweetly as she looked up at the tall officer and then dabbed the perspiration on her face with a jasmine-scented, hand-stitched lacy hanky. She dug through the classic Coach bag at her side to pull out her license and registration, then offered them to the officer as a gift. Here you all go, Officer. Knock yourself out! she remarked in an exaggerated southern drawl.

Remove your sunglasses. I’d like to see who I’m speaking with if you don’t mind, Ma’am.

The driver noted the cop wore mirrored sunglasses. Her forehead wrinkled in frustration. I will, if you will, Officer… Her voice faded as she stopped to read the officer’s nametag. Look, Officer Gilmore, I’m in a hurry. If you could just give me your usual lecture, it’d save us both time and energy on such a hot day.

The officer frowned, straightened up to fold her arms across a solid chest, and stared down at the driver. Miss Drummond, we can do this the easy way or I can have a backup car sent over here in five minutes. Which one do you want? Easy or hard?

Susan Drummond stared up at the officer, sighed, and removed her sunglasses. There! I removed them. Are you satisfied? Clear hazel eyes glared at the officer.

No, Miss Drummond, I’m not satisfied. I want you to get out of the car. Stand next to the hood. Keep your hands where I can see them. Do I have your permission to search the car? The officer rested one hand on the gun’s grip handle while the other hand casually touched her thigh. She was ready for anything the crazy driver might try this afternoon.

Sure, why not? You’re not going to find whatever you think you will. Susan exhaled loudly and fanned her face with a newspaper. It’s hot and I’m late, so hurry up! Who did this cop think she was? One of the characters from CSI or something? She flung open the car door suddenly and barely missed whacking the officer’s thigh.

Sergeant Elizabeth Gilmore jumped backwards to avoid the swinging door. Oh, how she’d love to kick the rich bitch’s ass for that little trick. Instead, she fumed silently, then calmly brushed off her pants. She noted long, shapely golden-brown legs that flashed in the sun when Susan Drummond exited the low-slung sports car. The Drummond woman was leggy and taller than she looked sitting in the little sports car.

Stand over there, she ordered, pointing to the front of the car. Keep your hands visible. She waited until Susan Drummond complied before she opened the door, leaned into the front seat, and started to conduct a physical search of the car. She moved the seats back and found a cigarette butt lying on the floor mat. She picked up the cigarette and smelled the stub to make sure it wasn’t marijuana or some other illegal substance. It wasn’t. She ran a hand along the floor under the seats and found a few aspirin tablets under the passenger’s seat. So far, there wasn’t anything worth putting in her report. Mind if I look in the trunk, Ma’am?

Susan shrugged.

I need you to give your answer verbally, please.

Susan threw up her hands in annoyance. Christ! Just hurry up and search the damned trunk! She glanced at her watch and muttered, I’ll never make it to the ceremony now!

The sergeant pushed aside several tennis outfits and the usual trunk junk to search in the corners. She removed three shopping bags, a gym bag, and an emergency road kit from the trunk to search them. She opened each item, emptied it, and then stacked the contents on the ground next to the rear tire on the passenger side of the car.

She unlocked the compartment containing the spare and took out the spare tire. She leaned the tire against the back fender so she could run her hands around the rim and then inside it as she checked for illegal substances. She didn’t think she’d find drugs, but she didn’t know what a bored, rich woman did during her leisure hours. Wiping her hands on a hanky, she strode to the front of the car.

You’re right, Ma’am. I didn’t find anything. Elizabeth touched the brim of her hat politely. Keep your speed inside the posted limit, Miss Drummond. People crash and die for doing less than you have. The speed limit is forty around here. You were doing seventy. I won’t write you a ticket this time. Consider this a warning.

Susan glared at the sergeant and then at the items neatly stacked against her car’s rear bumper. She pointed to the items and said, You’re not gonna leave my stuff like this, are you? You messed it up, so clean it up, Gilmore!

I’m sorry, Ma’am, but the law doesn’t require an officer to put the items back in a drug search. Elizabeth Gilmore touched the brim of her hat and smiled. Remember what I said about speeding along this strip. Have a nice day, Ma’am.

The tall officer with the long-legged gait sauntered back to her squad car. At least that was how it looked to Susan. The cop had some nerve leaving the mess that she’d made sitting on the road’s shoulder for her to clean up. She wrinkled her nose as she contemplated her plight, then glanced at her Rolex. Shit! She was going to be late again. Why did she have to go to the groundbreaking ceremony anyway? It was so boring listening to another one of her daddy’s long-winded ribbon-cutting speeches.

If she missed this one, he’d scold her. The first thing he’d say was how he didn’t pay for an MBA from an expensive college for her to lounge around poolside or sip drinks with her snobby friends at the country club. Then he’d remind her that he paid for her damn education so she’d go to work as he did. He’d end the lecture with how she’d better find something that interested her real quick or he’d cut her off and stop supporting her foolishness.

Susan whipped out her cell phone and pressed some buttons. Nothing lit up. Disgusted, she angrily threw it into the front seat. If she’d remembered to charge her cell battery last night, she could get Johnny or one of her friends to pick her up. Damn it! How does all this shit fit in the damned trunk? she muttered, struggling to return the spare tire to the compartment without getting dirty. Then she grabbed the tennis outfits and shopping bags and managed to stuff them back into the small trunk. She looked down at her filthy clothes and groaned. Well, she wasn’t going to take the weight for missing her father’s ribbon-cutting party alone. Soon as she reached a phone, that egotistical cop would learn what real power was! Angry, sweaty, and tired, she drove the lonely stretch of highway going home to change her clothes. She missed the unmarked patrol car hidden in the trees a quarter of a mile down the road.

Hiding behind the Welcome to Woodsville sign, Liz Gilmore put her binoculars down and watched the little car drive under the speed limit until it was over the next hill. She could hear the engine rev in the distance and sighed. Good! Maybe the rich witch learned something about not speeding this time. Forcing the bratty woman to use a little elbow grease wasn’t a bad idea, was it? she muttered to the interior of the empty patrol car.

She grinned at the image of the arrogant, rich woman bending down to haul the dirty spare tire back into its compartment. Her boss, the sheriff, gave his cops strict instructions about the Drummond family. He said it was hands-off the family. It irked Liz that she couldn’t give Susan Drummond a speeding ticket. The Drummond woman was a habitual speeder, but her father practically owned the police department in these parts. Liz couldn’t understand how an officer of the law could allow a person’s constant speeding to continue without repercussions. It was far too dangerous. Soon or later, the Drummond woman was going to hurt somebody or herself. Liz frowned. The sheriff said hands off the Drummonds. Since he was the boss, she had to obey his orders. Better get back to the stationhouse and tell my side before all hell breaks loose, she mumbled. She backed out of the bank of trees and headed in the opposite direction toward the stationhouse.

Several officers greeted her with affectionate slaps on the back and wide grins when she walked into the stationhouse.

What’s the joke? Liz frowned. She wondered why her fellow officers were so happy to see her.

Aw! Come on, Sarge, you know, one of the officers replied with a grin and an exaggerated wink as he walked to the front door.

We heard you stopped the Drummond woman … again. Did you really do a drug search this time? Officer Ingrams tried to contain his snicker behind a broad hand. He and his partner greeted Liz with broad smiles.

Liz shrugged. Yeah, I did. So what, guys?

The two officers shoved each other in the ribs and started giggling like two schoolboys up to no good.

Hot damn! That’s brilliant, Sarge. Wish I woulda thought of that myself. Please tell me you didn’t put the stuff back in the trunk for her fine, snotty butt. Ingrams put his hands together as though he was praying when he spoke.

Liz shook her head. The law doesn’t require it.

Sarge, if you weren’t my supervisor, I’d kiss you right now. Ingrams was ready to burst at the seams with laughter.

I’d let you kiss me, Ingrams, but then I’d have to arrest you for assault. Liz grinned at the two young cops. They left the stationhouse roaring with laughter. When she walked to the back of the squad room, more officers congratulated her. She knew the Drummond woman had been a problem since she returned home from graduate school almost six years ago. She managed to befuddle every officer that dealt with her. Her father, Owen Drummond, had two officers fired for trying to discipline her. After that incident, officers handled her with kid gloves.

Sergeant Gilmore, get in here! the sheriff yelled as soon as he saw his goddaughter stroll into the squad room as if she hadn’t a care in the world. He stood at the door to his office with a big frown on his face and a half-chewed, stubby cigar jammed between tight lips, watching her walk over to him.

Conversations in the squad room stopped as the officers waited to see what would happen between their sergeant and their boss.

Hey, Sarge, it looks like Daddy Warbucks made a phone call about you! one of the cops called out when Liz marched to the sheriff’s office door.

The sheriff looked around and saw a room full of cops watching every move he made. He yanked the stogie out and used it to point at his entire crew. What the hell are you guys looking at? Get back to work, goddamn it! he yelled, then jammed the unlit cigar between clenched teeth. He held the door open for Liz to enter and then banged it shut. The door shook on its hinges from the force of his anger. The audience of officers could hear the sheriff’s booming voice through the closed door.

What the hell is wrong with you, Lizzie? Are you crazy or something?

Calm down, Uncle Ted. It’s not that bad. I stayed within the law, Liz Gilmore said, holding her hands up in surrender as she assured her godfather what happened on the road between her and the Drummond woman was legal. You can look at the video from the patrol car if you don’t believe me. I did the drug search because I figured anybody going that fast must be drinking or using drugs. I made her take her sunglasses off so I could see her eyes, Boss.

Was she drunk?

I didn’t smell anything on her breath.

What about her eyes?

Liz shrugged before answering him. They were clear.

Did you find any drugs in your search, Sergeant Gilmore?

Liz took off her hat and stuck it under one arm as she faced him. No, Sir, I did not.

The sheriff groaned. Did you at least help the woman repack the trunk?

Liz shook her head no for the third time. No, Sir, I did not. The law doesn’t require it.

The sheriff rolled his eyes skyward, then steepled his hands together like he was pleading with God to help him with this one. He yelled again, Goddamn it, Lizzie! Don’t you dare tell me what the goddamn law says! I don’t give a shit if you are studying to be a lawyer. I’ve forgotten more law than you’ll ever know! I told your father I’d take you under my wing down here because I thought it’d be a good experience for you. Him and me go back a long way in the law community, but that don’t mean I can’t can his daughter’s ass.

Finished with his lecture, Sheriff Ted Reeves calmed down and stared at his only goddaughter. Lizzie, I know you ain’t from around here, but how long is it gonna take you to understand our ways? No, we don’t have the kind of crime wave big cities do. This job is mostly about community relations. The Drummond family is the community and the only important relationship in this town. I want you to go by the Drummond estate and make nice with the daughter. Smooth her feathers a little. Tell her you’re sorry for the inconvenience you caused her. Ask her if there’s a way you can make it up to her. Offer to give her an escort or something. I don’t care what you have to do. Just get her goddamn father off my back, pronto! Got it, Sergeant?

Yes, Sir. Liz came to attention and saluted. Sir, could we talk off the record?

The sheriff sighed wearily and rubbed his temples. Yeah, Lizzie, what ya want now?

Uncle Ted, you’re a good cop. One of the best investigators I’ve seen. Why are you worried what Drummond and his cronies think?

The sheriff sighed heavily and wondered if his goddaughter would ever fit in this community. He decided the only way she’d fit was if she relaxed and enjoyed the power her job sometimes gave her. Stick around here long enough, Lizzie, and maybe then you’ll understand. Go see the damned Drummond woman and leave me alone.

Yes, Sir. Liz Gilmore turned to leave, but the sheriff’s voice stopped her.

And no more drug searches on our upstanding citizens, okay?

Yes, Sir, Liz replied, saluting a superior officer. I didn’t think the bitch had the balls to jack my ass. Was I wrong about that or what! she thought as she strode through the stationhouse with everyone’s eyes on her.

Some wise-ass cop called out, Go get her, Lizzie!

In response, Liz shrugged, then kept on walking until she reached the parking lot and her unmarked cruiser.

Liz passed by one of Owen Drummond’s large construction sites on the drive to the Drummond estate. She reduced her speed as a flagman redirected the traffic around the site. He looked familiar and so she stopped.

The flagman leaned into her patrol car. Hey, Lizzie, how goes it?

Liz smiled in recognition. How’re you doing, Danny?

I’m doing great today, the young man responded with a quick, easy smile.

How are Jennifer and Junior?

Daniel Hanley grinned proudly at the mention of his wife and son. They’re fine. Danny Jr. just started walking last weekend. He’s something else, Liz. Why don’t you come over to see us sometime? We miss not seeing you.

Liz watched his eyes light up with pride when he talked about his family. He’d changed for the better since the first time she’d seen him. The first time they’d met, he was ready to jump off the Sarahatchie Bridge because he couldn’t support his pregnant wife. Liz had been fishing in the stream below the bridge. She liked to fish in her spare time. Since she was new in town and hadn’t made many friends, she had time on her hands. It happened on one of those lazy, humid southern afternoons, the kind that was for good fishing.

When she first saw the solid-looking man on the bridge, she didn’t think anything about it. She just figured he was there for the fishing or enjoying the sweet air the same as she was. The next thing he did was strange enough that it caught her attention. He climbed on to the railing to stare into the water fifty feet below. That was when she noticed he didn’t have fishing equipment with him. He climbed back down to the wooden floor of the bridge. Then he wandered around on the bridge, talking as though he was trying to convince himself of something.

By that time, she knew something was amiss and she’d already put down her rod and reel. She quietly moved under the bridge, trying to find the best way to approach the man without scaring him into doing something that he might regret later. He was so distraught he didn’t notice the tall figure striding toward him until it was too late to jump. She could see when she looked into his eyes that this was a man at the end of his rope, but he seemed to be willing to talk to her about his troubles. They must have talked for the remainder of the afternoon and into the late evening about simple things like families, friends, baseball, and fishing.

Liz stayed to talk to the man about anything she could think of to take his mind away from jumping. She mentioned a notice in the local paper about job openings at one of the Drummond construction sites. He’d mentioned he had a construction work background, so Liz made him promise if she could get him an interview by the next week that he wouldn’t jump. She arranged a job interview for the following Monday.

By Wednesday, Danny called to say he was working at the site. He didn’t know it at the time, but Liz kept an eye on him until he got the job. They became fishing buddies. She’d stop by their trailer every week to see the baby and visit with his wife, Jen. Lately, though, she’d started attending law school at night, so she didn’t have the time to do much but study, work, and sleep when she could. She sighed inwardly when she thought about the direction her life had taken.

Sorry, Liz, but Mr. Drummond asked us to redirect traffic around the site for today. The mayor and the city council broke ground there today. Why don’t you take Route 2? It’s faster.

Thanks, Danny. She waved at him as she pulled over to turn the squad car around. The sheriff approved this crap and she hated that. She drove two miles out of the way to accommodate the Drummond ceremony. No wonder Ms. Brat had an exaggerated sense of importance. I wonder if she’s ever held a real job, Liz mused as she drove down the long curved driveway to the Drummond estate. She saw a marvelous view of well-trimmed evergreen bushes and the plush expanse of the front lawn that reminded her of kelly green velvet. Large leafy oak trees planted every few feet on both sides of the driveway formed archways that added to the elegant beauty of the place. She whistled and thought how the Drummonds’ gardener must make a mint keeping the grounds in shape.

She climbed out of the air-conditioned car into the humid afternoon, wiping her brow. She put on her Stetson hat and adjusted her gun belt. Someone was peeking through a curtain on the second floor. If she hadn’t been looking up to admire the mansion-like house, she wouldn’t have noticed the curtain moving. She wondered who was watching her. She shrugged, dusted off her gray uniform and black steel-toed boots, and stood on the wrap-around porch to admire the view of the vivid patches of reds, blues, greens, yellows, and purples from the flower garden that surrounded the house. She used the brass knocker against the matching brass pad at the front door.

Afternoon, Ma’am. Liz touched the brim of her Stetson. Could I speak with Miss Drummond, please?

Yes, Sergeant, come right in. She’s been expecting you. Please follow me, the housekeeper remarked with a bright smile.

So she was expecting me, was she? I wonder what else the spoiled brat has planned. Liz kept her thoughts to herself. She followed the brown-skinned housekeeper through the kitchen and into the hallway.

She’s out by the pool sunning, Sergeant. I don’t mean to speak out of turn, but she’s pissed… real pissed. The housekeeper stopped before they reached the pool to whisper. Nobody ever made her suffer through a drug search before. Did you really make her repack the trunk?

Liz Gilmore nodded. Yes, Ma’am, I did.

The housekeeper’s eyes grew round. Not even the old man could get her to do that much. She walked to the deck, then pointed to Susan Drummond. There she is, Sergeant Gilmore.

Susan Drummond had fallen asleep in one of the lounge chairs on the pool’s deck. Her nap provided Liz with an opportunity to assess her undisturbed. She studied Susan’s shapely body, taking in long legs the color of dark honey. She stared at the bright pink toenails encased in expensive-looking leather sandals. Susan wore a matching pink thong bathing suit bottom with a skimpy top that barely contained her ample bosom. The brief suit showed off a small flat waist that flared into full hips. Liz found it interesting that Susan’s hair was in short African twists and not the usual relaxed hairstyle she’d expect a wealthy Black woman to wear.

Do you see anything you like, Officer Gilmore? Or should I say ‘Sergeant’ Gilmore! Susan Drummond snapped, then opened her eyes. She watched Liz visibly stiffen.

It annoyed Liz that Susan Drummond caught her look of admiration. She didn’t want the Drummond woman to think she was the least bit interested in anything more than pacifying her boss the sheriff.

The throaty voice with the slightly southern lilt laughed at her. It’s okay to look, Sarge. You just can’t touch unless I say you can. My father said you have to do anything I want. Her eyes glinted with speculation as she studied the cop. Right now, I want you to remove your sunglasses. After that, we’ll see what else I want removed.

Liz folded her arms across her chest and looked down at Susan Drummond. I don’t think so, Ma’am.

"Well, I do! If you wanna keep your job so you can continue to pay for law school, you might wanna do what I say, Sergeant Elizabeth