Revenge Inc. Noel

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Noel wants revenge, Harold and Judith, a weekend away?
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H20wader
H20wader
304 Followers

the ravings of a known lunatic. Copyrighted May 2006 by The H20wader.

Edited by Techsan, who still suffers with my spelling, my spacing, my Capital letters, and my dialogue sequences. I hope I am learning. He tries so hard. Alas, I cannot stop adding material, therefore all errors you can find are mine alone. Of course, all errors you cannot find are his. LOL.

Spacer also had a hand in trying to straightening out the twists in the story. We disagreed on the ending. As author, I selected my ending. I did do a rewrite to make it hopefully plainer and clearer.

The third in a hopefully never-ending series.

*****

It was Monday.

Harold Stasson was always the first in the office. He placed the bagels, which he had picked up at the Johnson's Deli on his way to the office, on the napkins on the tray he always used. He liked the calm and the quiet of the early morning. He had just made the morning coffee when he heard the buzzer from the front door. Judith, for sure, she would want coffee too. He pushed the button that would allow the door to open. He poured her cup to the three quarter level, added the sugar and cream, and placed the cup next to the plain bagel on the napkin. He turned to the door and waited for her smiling face.

Judith was lovely in the morning when she came to work. Actually, Harold thought she was lovely anytime and all the time. He was sure that he was falling in love with a fellow worker. He was not sure of himself in this situation. He was not sure that she was very receptive to the idea. Yes, she had given him assurances. She had let him fondle and kiss her wonderful breasts, but was she just playing with him? There was also the Boss, would he approve of this relationship or fire the pair of them.

Judith entered the break room. His heart skipped several beats. She was so beautiful. How could a woman this beautiful fall in love with him? He was not tall, he wore bifocals, his hair was thinning, he had a potbelly, and he had trouble talking in her presence.

"Good morning, Harold. I have two cases I am working on today. I need to get started. Thank you for the bagel and coffee. Can you check the emails, please?"

"Huh, oh yes, sure." Damn, why could the not be comfortable with her? Why did he talk like an idiot when he was with her? Why did his stupid penis get hard every time she was near him? She left the break room and the hardness ached as her ass swayed gently as she walked away. It looked so beautiful, so touchable, so inviting, so... Harold shook his head to clear his mind.

He finished the black coffee and the cinnamon raisin bagel. The E-mails were waiting for him.

The first one was opened.

To: Revenge Inc.

From: Noel Lodge

Subject: Revenge

Sirs:

Recently a story was published on several sites on the internet. After reading the story, I am convinced that I am the subject of that story. The story is exactly what happened to me in my junior year of high school. A rival did just what the story says. Here is the URL I suggest you read it before you continue with this E-mail. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX.com

Yes, I was a bitch in my high school. Yes, I did everything Beth mentioned in the story but I need to explain what life was like in school and how I reacted to the problems that plagued me. You may call me at 555-555-1212.

Noel Lodge

There were several other E-mails but nothing important. He did not want to have his penis enlarged. His mind briefly wondered if Judith would be happy with what he had. How could he ask her? Again, he shook his head and sent the enlargement thing to spam.

He returned to the first E-mail.

He called up the story and read it. A Queen Bee is rich, good looking and stuck up. All the boys in the school gone goggle eyed for her. She could have any boy she wanted so there were boys who dumped girls to date her. Being too popular with boys to have a steady, she went through a lot of boys, each one leaving behind at least one angry girlfriend. There is a get-even scene where the Queen is gang raped by a retarded boy and a rather large group of boys who were just there and wanted the Queen Bee. In addition, there were four girls who were orally satisfied.

A fantasy, the male writer, said, but the E-mail said it was true. Harold wondered where The H20wader got his facts. If it was true, high school had gotten a lot rougher since he was there. He never got any blowjobs but he had heard that others did. He read it again. He kinda liked the way it turned out. This writer had a way with words and could tell a story very well. A queen bee got her comeuppance. Well, maybe it was rough on the Bee, but it was a fantasy, wasn't it? The E-mail said it was a true story.

He called the number. The phone rang three times.

"Hello. Lodge residence. To whom do you wish to speak?"

"Noel, please."

"Who shall I say is calling?"

"Harold Stasson."

"May I tell her why you are calling?"

"In reference to an E-mail sent to my office."

"Hold, please." Thank god there none of that dumb music. The wait was only a minute.

"Noel, here, if this is what I think it is, give me an appointment please. As soon as possible."

"Today, 11 AM?"

"Excellent."

Harold replaced the phone and sat back in his chair. The Boss always told him never to anticipate. Sure, right. Harold's mind was running a million miles a second. He decided to E-mail the Boss again about the credit cars for Judith and himself. They would be so much easier that keeping track of the job related expenses and the paperwork of E-mailing the damn thing to the boss. There were times when he did not have the money in his account to pay some of the bills and he was then forced to use his own credit card. That made expense reporting very difficult.

The E-mail was written and sent. It was now just 10 AM. He had an hour to kill. He decided to check on Judith. He eased down the hall and peeked in her office. A client, a young woman dressed in sweats was crying. Harold eased back to his office. He checked his files for active cases. There were three. All were on hold waiting for the client's nemesis to return from trips. As soon as they were local, the case would move forward. If the nemesis did not return, the case would be forwarded to the office in that sector. Everything was ready.

Harold went to the restroom and combed his thinning hair. Maybe implants? It was not expensive and it might make him look better. But would Judith approve? How could he ask her?

He heard the buzzer from the front door. He hurried back to this desk, almost falling, and thumbed the button. He headed for the small lobby. They really needed a receptionist.

"You are Noel, I believe?"

He looked at the girl, woman, before him. She was a true blonde or she had been to her hairdressers recently. There were no dark roots. She was short maybe five three, in the heels it was hard to say. Blue eyes of course. Diamond studs in the lobes of her ears. A small chain around her neck holding a larger diamond with the same cut and color. Her dress was fashionable but not revealing. She looked like a rich college student trying to impress him.

"Yes."

"Follow me to my office, please."

He sat behind the desk; she sat in the large leather chair. She looked tiny in the huge chair. Her legs were perfect, long, lean and well tanned, not encumbered by hose. The shoes were heeled but sensible pumps, that appeared to Harold to be 2 maybe 2 and a half inches. Harold did not know women's clothing well, but Noel was dressed in an extremely well made pants suit. It was not sexy but demonstrated that there was a very nice young body under the cloth.

Harold pushed the record button under the desk.

"Do you mind if the session is taped? It is a help when the final plans are made. Your full name, please."

"Noel Cabot Lodge. No, I do not mind. You already know why I am here."

"I have read the story as you requested. According to the author, The H20wader, it was a fantasy of a high school girl."

"Sir, I assure you the story was true. I was drugged and gangbanged by I don't know how many boys. That was almost four years ago."

"Then I will assume the story as written was true. I am in the revenge business. What do you want me to do?"

"First, let me tell you my side of the story," Noel said. She licked her lips, took a deep breath and started.

"My mother died when I was 12. My father remarried when just before I was 14. He married a 26-year-old trophy wife. She was a gold digger but she was a very beautiful woman. She made me feel as if I were an ugly duckling. I was young and insecure, she ridiculed me often. Without my mother, I had to rely on myself and things did not go well for me. Katherine made me call her by her first name so, as she said, we could be sisters, not a mother and daughter.

"She also signed a pre-nup. Just after I graduated from high school, my father was killed in an automobile crash with a drunk driver. My stepmother got 50 million and departed for places unknown. My father's sister took me in and I still live with her in a small mansion in Grosse Points Shores. I am attending the University of Windsor, across the bridge. My aunt is elderly and I love her. She is a very real Grand Dame.

"I am part of the Boston Lodges. There are trust funds for all of us. An early ancestor from the Revolutionary War made a large profit in the slave trade and the money has been pouring in ever since. The actual money is handled by a very nice old-line investment company, whose whole purpose is to maintain the growth so that every one in the family will be filthy rich.

"Boston is my home town, actually area. Father wanted to spend his life in a middle class town, as far away from the hoity-torties, as he called them. My mother was not in favor of the idea. She wanted me to be raised among the wealthy and have the life that our money entitled. The best private schools were mine.

"After my mother died, we moved to Livonia. I started the eighth grade in a public school. I still thought as myself as better that the common people. I was quite attractive and attracted boys. I was according to mt female class mates stuck-up. I was that and more. My stepmother did not care for me and often ridiculed me. Oh, privately, of course, but she was very effective in destroying any confidence I might have had. I hated her and she hated me.

"As said, I was very pretty, but I did not believe in myself. I was vain and cruel to people in the school. I used the boy's attention to me to hurt many young girls. All I had to do was hint that I might be interested and a boy would drop everything, especially his girlfriend. The one that I hurt the most was Beth. I heard about a sex party she attended. Sex party is a harsh term; it was a party where several young insecure young girls each gave oral sex to one boy in a contest. I had just taken Beth's boy friend away from her and she would not know until the following Monday. I was exceptionally cruel to her.

"That was in the start of my junior year. Then things exploded. I was gang raped. I was drugged and used. The plot was the result of the years I had been a snob, a bitch, and a high and mighty Queen Bee. Beth took pictures of the rape. I want the pictures back.

"Mr. Stasson, I am not a Paris Hilton, I do not wish to be a celebrity. I have more money that I will ever be able to spend; I give a lot to charities. I am dating a young man, but it is not serious. I do hope in time to marry and have children. I want to be a mother. I cannot do that with those pictures hanging over my head."

Harold looked thoughtful, "Have you tried to approach this Beth?"

"I am terrified of her; I would prefer to stay away for her. I could meet her under the right circumstances, if I were in a position of power. She might post the pictures on the net at any time. I need to make sure all of them are destroyed. I do know how many sets she has or where they are.

"I have been in heavy therapy for the last four years. I now have a grip on my life and I wish to move on with that life. Beth is the last thing I have to deal with so that my life will better and more worry free. I have not seen any of my high school ..er.. acquaintances since we graduated. I did not go on the senior trip to Barbados as my father had just been killed. I was already in therapy at that time. I have not talked on any of my classmates personally since I graduated. I did hire am excellent private detective and I have some information to share with you."

Noel removed a small notebook from her purse and placed it on the desk.

There was another fifteen minutes as Noel told Harold all that he needed to know.

"I will need some time to think on this. May I call you, say, in a day or two? You do understand that I have a feeling that this will be very expensive?"

"Sir, on my twenty-first birthday I inherited over $100,000,000. There is a lot more to come as I become twenty-five, thirty and thirty-five. I seriously doubt that you will put even a very small dent, or should I say nick or even a scratch in that much money. Sir, I am buying my life back."

"Then look for my call. The same number as before?"

"No, use my cell. 555-555-1111. I can find my way out."

Harold watched her leave. She was exquisitely beautiful. If he was younger, had hair, no potbelly, and more money and did not love Judith he would... He laughed at himself.

He made a copy of the CD used for the recording. Backs up are always nice.

Harold got another cinnamon raisin bagel and more black coffee; he started to think.

Several things she had said stood out, the one that had caught his attention was the comment about not knowing how many sets of the pictures existed.

The first order of business was to see what material Noel had gathered.

The next ten minutes he read the notebook. Noel had done a lot of homework. There were names, addresses, telephone numbers, cell numbers, safe deposit box numbers, and the role each person played in that night. Harold was impressed; Noel had an excellent private detective. There was, of course, the fact that Noel was the source of the memories of that night and that she had one hell of a lot of money.

"Ah, well, the longest journey begins with the first step."

The first call was to a friend at the FBI, John Bezzel.

"John, Harold here, how's Carol?"

"Carol is fine; pregnant again. What do you want?"

"I have a list of names. Can you please check them for me?"

"Harold, damn it, I do have to work here, you know. Every time you mention Carol, you want information."

"John, I will never tell her.'

"Yeah, yeah. Gimme the damn names."

"John, I promised I would never tell her; I keep my promises. I will E-mail them to you."

"Tomorrow afternoon, Harold."

"Thanks John. I will never tell her."

"I know, but I am still guilty."

Twenty-five names with addresses, driver's license, and social security numbers were E-mailed. Harold looked at the clock on the wall. Maybe Judith would like some lunch. He walked to her office. She was alone, good!

"Judith."

She jumped in surprise, "Harold, you scared me." She was smiling just like she was when she came to work that morning.

"We need a receptionist. Would you like me to order Chinese?"

"Sounds good, Harold. Mongolian Beef, medium, for me. I have a call coming in; can you yell for me and make tea when it arrives." Judith giggled, "Harold, why do we need a Chinese receptionist?"

They laughed together. Weird Harold began to grow in Harold's pants.

"Judith, I have been, well, thinking. Maybe we should, like, maybe, get a weekend off. You know, like, maybe, go somewhere together?"

How did she do this to him? He was a damn idiot; he could not talk to her with falling all over himself. He wondered if she could see the lump in his pants.

Judith looked at the man she was falling in love with. He was asking her to spend two nights alone in a hotel or a motel room somewhere.

"Harold, I am not sure. Can you give me an idea of when and where?" Her mind flashed: What was she saying to him? You silly cow tell him yes, yes, yes!

Harold had never intended on asking her for a weekend away. It had just blurted out. Now he had no idea where to go. He had to say something.

"How about Port Sanilac?" he took a breath. "There are beaches and a small golf course and a summer play house. When are you free?"

"I love theater, what is playing?"

"I have no idea." Harold wanted to sink into the floor and vanish. Why had he not checked? Why was he asking this wonderful woman if she wanted to go somewhere and sleep with him? Why didn't he just die?

Judith was struggling not to laugh. Harold was completely hopeless when he talked to her. She wanted to kiss him, but they were in the workplace.

The ringing phone on her desk saved her and Harold. Harold waved at her and left the room. (For once, not running in the doorjamb.)

He ordered lunch. Sweet and soup pork for him Mongolian beef for Judith, white rice, egg rolls and egg drop soup. Delivery in 30 minutes.

The neat thing about Harold is when he is not talking to, looking at, or thinking about Judith, he could accomplish a lot. The base plan was starting to form in his mind. Like most plans, it would weave and twist but the idea was there. Out of twenty-five names, one had to have done something wrong.

He picked up his phone and called his contact with state police. He gave the names to Francine, his ex-wife. She was a systems analyst with the communications section of the state police. She could do research as a problem searching exercise. She was a lot faster than the FBI and would have results in three hours.

Lunch was delivered. Harold took out the checkerboard tablecloth and the real plates, the real stainless steel tableware, the real cups and made the tea. He called Judith to using the hall way as a conduit of the message.

"Lunch, my sweet lady, is served." Why the hell could he not talk to her like that when he was facing her?

The lunch was excellent. Victor Lim's was the finest Chinese place for 30 miles.

He was careful not to talk excessively and put his foot in his mouth. He wondered if she was on the pill. Would she expect him to provide protection? Maybe he should buy some Trojans. How many? Would a dozen be enough? Would she want lubed or plain? Colored or plain? Ribbed or plain? He decided that the subject would be better dicussed at a later time.

She was careful not to ask about the weekend. Two nights? Was she ready for this? It had been four years since her divorce and except for that trip to Cancun, there had been no man in her bed. Should she tell him that with no man in sight she had given up the pill? She needed to get to the doctor's office and get that problem rectified. Damn, it would not be fast enough for the weekend away. Would Harold buy condoms? Should she? How many? Would a dozen be enough? Would he want lubed or plain? Colored or plain? Ribbed or plain? She decided that the subject would be better if discussed at a later time.

They each returned to their respective offices and got on with the day-to-day work of righting wrong deeds, of making the bad guys pay and serving revenge where it so richly deserved.

Harold made several calls. The wheels on the bus began to go round and round as his plan began to come together.

Harold's ex called back early.

"I have that look up you wanted. The material is in your E-mail now. Harold, I am sorry about what I did to you."

"I know you are but that is behind us. I have forgiven you, it is just that I cannot forget. Thank you for the help."

Harold looked at the print out. The one with the largest file was David Swenson, Dave in the story. Nothing major but two DUI's, three assaults (barroom fights), and charges pending for soliciting a minor. The girl was 17 not 18 and she had called the police. According to the police report it was he said-she said. Prosecution unlikely. Nice, just what Harold had been hoping for.

H20wader
H20wader
304 Followers