Controlling the Detectives (The Magic Remote Book 3) Read Free Page B

obviously, with whatever that little remote was that the young man had. She had, after searching through her list of possible suspects, deduced that he was Jared Plinkton, the neighbor who Russell had said was behind the dissolving marriage.
    Clearly, whatever effect the remote that Jared had somehow had affected Heather as well. That was why she had been unable to stop herself from fingering her hot cunt until she came right there in the yard, and why it had been a struggle ever since to not give herself a sequel to that hot showing.
    Yes, that was it. The remote was affecting her. It had nothing to do with anything at all that she wanted. It was all the remote, and that was why she had to talk to Russell and discuss a plan of action.
    She was looking forward to Russell coming in for more reasons than just discussing plans. She hoped, offhand, that she could seduce him into fucking her. This is why she had on the outfit she did as she sat nimbly on the front of her desk, her long legs crossed.
    She wore her tiny pinstripe suit, the one she put on when she was trying for promotions or when she went undercover to clubs and didn't want any guff from bouncers. The thin material elevated the hot, lovely globes of her tits, and the brief skirt only just covered the solid outline of her athletic rear. Smoky stockings adorned her lovely legs, setting off their terrific shape.
    It was just businesslike enough to wear to work, and just sexy enough to get her all kinds of looks from anybody she wanted. Heather felt good wearing it. Wearing this outfit, she would think, “Screw it, I'm a hero cop. I do what I want.”
    Oftentimes, husbands who felt wronged in marriages wanted to do a little revenge-fucking of their own, and Heather was horribly turned on ever since watching that house.
    She hadn't had sex in ages. And as far as being fucked—properly fucked and filled—it had been much longer. Years, maybe.
    It did not bother her very much that Russell was only single because of some odd, science-fiction mind control ray gun. She could let him know all of that after she had a good, honest fucking.
    Sandra, wearing black jeans, a thin white blouse, and a cute little metallic blue vest, busted into Heather's office, smiling eagerly. Heather felt a stab of disappointment that she was not Russell.
    “I've just had five separate sources confirm that . . . um, wow,” said Sandra, openly staring down Heather's cleavage.
    The detective knew, somewhat vainly, that it must have been driving Sandra wild to see her dressed up like she was, although that of course wasn't why she had the little outfit on.
    Heather smiled. “Your sources confirmed 'wow'?”
    Sandra shook her lovely head. “No . . . I . . . it's just your . . . anyway.” She took a breath. “I've got sources on campus that invites have been getting sent around to a super exclusive party tonight. There's some kind of swimsuit competition, and so far as I know, only girls are invited. Only hot, rich girls. They get five hundred dollars just for showing up. First prize is ten thousand dollars. Second prize is a trip to Hawaii.”
    “The sorority is funding that?”
    “Well, of course not. My bet is it's just a ruse to get the women in that this Jared kid wants. I'm telling you, he's going to be drugging and doping each and every one of them, just like how what he did to that girl you saw.” She shrugged. “Personally, I say screw 'em.”
    “Sandra!”
    “What? Those girls are born with a silver spoon in their mouths. Maybe getting a little cock forced down there will open up their Daddy's minds to giving law enforcement more of an edge.”
    “Come on. You don't believe that.”
    Sandra sighed. “No, I guess not. I just get frustrated with this, sometimes.” Her eyes clung to Heather's bosom. “Frustrated with lots of things.”
    Heather had not told Sandra her findings of the mind control device. It presented, really, two main problems if she did. The first of these was