Saturday's Child

Lucas led me down a hallway on the left and into a study halfway down the hall. He motioned to a chair by the desk and I took it.

"Confused yet?" He sat in a plush chair behind the desk and relaxed.

"I wouldn't say confused. Intrigued would be a better word. Just what is it you do here?"

"It's a long story."

"I charge by the hour. Take your time."

"A novel approach, but I could have guessed you would respond a little differently."

Samantha entered with a tray. "Your tea, Sir. Can I get you anything else?"

"Thanks, Samantha. I think we'll be fine."

"A few of the girls are in the pool and wanted to know if they could swim a while longer."

"No. We have a visitor coming who could compromise our situation. I would prefer that there were no bikini clad nymphs frolicking about that might give the impression I am running a harem here."

"Yes, Sir."

"Tell them they will have an extra hour tomorrow. Oh, and ask Daria what's for dinner, I'm famished."

"It's Friday, Sir. Seafood trays and salads on the patio as always."

"That will be fine."

Samantha exited closing the door behind her.

"So you're not running a brothel and it's not a harem. You mentioned that Samantha is your student but I see no classrooms."

"You'll make a good detective someday."

I was startled by his observation. I thought I had given myself away too soon. "Funny, I never heard that before. So just what IS going on here?"

"Where should I begin?"

"How about the beginning?"

"Good call. Especially with you on hourly. Ok, here goes.

"My father died of a massive heart attack when I was twelve, I became reclusive afterwards, preferring the company of computers to humans. My mother remarried a few years later and while I don't fault her for that, I was disappointed in her choice. Don't get me wrong, my stepfather treated her like royalty and I was happy for her in that respect. It was obvious, though, that he wanted her to himself and my sister and I were treated as less than pets.

"My sister ran away after only a year. She had told me that he had abused her and threatened her. She called me on occasion to let me know where she was and that she was alive, but refused to come home. Then the calls stopped.

"I knew she had turned to hooking to get by, despite my pleas find another way. She assured me it was just until she could find another way to support herself and made me promise to stay in school. When she stopped calling I knew something bad had happened. Three months later a detective came to the door. He talked to my mother briefly, leaving after she collapsed in a sobbing heap. He made a sincere apology at the door and simply walked out.

"My sister had been murdered by a pimp in L.A. because she refused to work for him.

"I finished High School with high marks and went into the Air Force, training as a computer tech."

"Funny, you don't look like a geek."

"I wear contacts." He smiled wryly, then continued. "After three years I stumbled onto a flaw in the target acquisition software that the services were using in both the surface to air missile systems and in their fighter aircraft. I was coming to the end of my hitch and saw an opportunity to set myself up for life. I made copies of the software and sent them home for safekeeping. Once I was out, I reworked the software and made vast improvements. When I took it to the pentagon they were outraged at first and threatened to have me imprisoned. Then cooler heads prevailed and they hired me as a contractor instead.

"The software, its upgrades and child programs have made me a millionaire to say the least. I should have been happy. I should have been content with my success, but I wasn't. Something was still bothering me."

"Your sister."

"Indeed. She had been an honor student, destined to be a doctor, a lawyer, an architect, anything but a dead 17-year-old hooker and I knew she was not the only one. So, with more money than I knew what to do with I purchased this property, built the house and set about trying to help young ladies like my sister get off the street before they ended up looking at the grass from the beneath it."

I have to admit I was stunned by his story, there had to be an ulterior motive, no one does work of this magnitude without some expectation of returns. There had to be more to it and I was determined to find out what. "So where do I fit in?"

"Are you saying hooking is your chosen profession?"

"No. I didn't want to be a hooker."

"Do you want to go back to the street? Or would you rather have an opportunity to make your life better?"

"So by joining your harem I get to stay in a nice house and live out the rest of my life in luxury and comfort in return for sexual favors for you and your friends?"

"No, certainly not. As I said, this is no harem. Your room and board here is not free, that's true, but it will not cost you what's left of your dignity either. I will provide you with a room of your own, for privacy. No one has access to that room but you, unless invited. I will provide food and medical care. You will be taken care of. In return you will learn a job skills that will allow you to make a life for yourself outside Sanctuary Ranch."

"So, you are giving me a second chance and all I have to do is accept it? I'm not required to perform chores or anything? I just go to class and learn? You think it's that simple?"

"Nothing is ever that simple. I never said this would be easy. But it will only be as hard as you make it. You are the one who has to accept the responsibility for your life. I don't know what led you to prostitution; it's not important to me. What's important is that you choose to get out of it. There are strict rules here, some that you may find difficult to deal with, but they are for the good of everyone here and for the preservation of the Sanctuary. By the way, everyone pulls their weight. There are privileges and responsibilities for everyone."

"And if I want to leave?"

"I will drive you and your belongings back to the corner of Industrial and Hacienda and we will part company. Understand, though, the doors here will always be open to you. I don't force anyone into anything, your life is your own and your decision is final in matters of what you do with that life. But I will never turn my back on you."

"So what are these rules you mentioned?"

Lucas smiled, "Very simple, really. There are five cardinal rules. Number One: There are no drugs in this house and it WILL stay that way. If you have an addiction, I will help you overcome it but there will not be illegal substances that could get the other members of this house arrested or this property taken away. Do you understand why?"

"Yes."

"Tell me."

"If there is a drug bust here your program would be shut down and you would go to jail."

"Very good. I am no help to any of these girls in jail. Rule Number Two: The identities of anyone and everyone living here are not to leave these grounds for any reason. Do you understand why?"

"I think I can see the biggest reason, the protection of the girls from angry pimps or Johns turned stalker. But what about their parents? I'm sure that some of their parents are looking for them and would want to know they are safe."

"I'll grant you that. That is the reason that all of the girls have access to a secure line with which to call home. However, since many of the girls left home to escape abusive situations, it must be solely their choice to make contact. No one here is EVER to call another's parents without the express consent of that girl. Nor will anyone call any runaway hotlines with information on any other girls. Clear?"

"Clear. I understand perfectly."

"Good. Rule Number Three: There are no guests allowed on this property without my knowledge and consent. Do you understand why?"

"Yes. If someone were to come in not understanding what this place really is they could compromise everything."

"Exactly." He smiled slightly then turned very solemn, "A lot of girls who are working hard to better themselves would be right back out on the street."

"Rule Number Four: At the moment of your acceptance, all facilities and rooms on this estate outside you bedroom, your assigned bathroom and the great room are off limits. Do you understand why?"

"Ummmm... No, not really."

"Recreational facilities and other areas of the house and estate are privileges that you will have the opportunity to earn. I can also revoke those privileges at any time if I deem necessary. Understand?"

"It's a bit childish but I think I get it."

"My house, my rules. Which brings me to Rule Five: In this house I am, like it or not, the supreme authority. Don't like it? Industrial and Hacienda. Back on the interstate. Happy trails and all that. Do you understand why?"

"You pay the bills. You need to protect your interests. Makes sense to me."

"Then it's settled. I'll have Samantha show you your room."

"Not so fast, Big Boy. I said I understood the rules. I never agreed to anything."

"So, Industrial and Hacienda it is. As soon as I have my meeting with Mr. Silver, I'll drive you back to town."

"I didn't say I wouldn't agree either."

His head fell back with a loud sigh, his hands fell slack at his sides. "Are you always this exasperating? What is it that you want?"

"I am when I feel like I'm being railroaded." I calmed my voice, "If I decide to stay, your rules will be acceptable but there are things I need to know first."

"Such as?"

"How do I know this is for real? What did I do to deserve your second chance? What am I going to be obligated to? When is this 'training' over? What is your success rate? How do..."

"Slow down! You have more questions than a cop. Geez! Be patient and I'll tell you everything. Right now, though, I have a crisis that may be the downfall of everything I have worked to do here and I need to make some preparations. So, what I suggest is that you have a bath and put on some decent clothes. Then talk to some of the other girls. If I know Samantha, she is no doubt arranging a pow-wow for you with all the other girls. She likes to make the new girls comfortable."

"How long has she been here?"

"Nearly six years. She is currently attending UNLV, studying psychology and business management. I expect she will graduate near the top of her class."

"Impressive."

"Indeed. All the more so when you consider that she was a real problem child when she first came here. She and her sister, Morgainne, were orphaned in their early teens. After a few years of abuse in foster homes they ran away together. Her sister started hooking to keep them alive. That's how I found Morgainne. I brought her here and when she saw what this was about she would only agree to stay if I accepted Samantha as well. Samantha was a well-mannered but very angry girl. She was terrified that this would become another foster home. It took a couple years to get through to her."

I considered this for a moment, studying him carefully. It all seemed too good to be true, which put my cop suspicions on full alert, yet there was a growing feeling that I could trust this guy. If I stayed and I found anything crooked it would be the biggest bust of my career. If he was on the up and up it would be the biggest beacon of hope I had seen in all my years on the force.

"Look." He stood, strolling casually to the door, "It's the weekend and you have free room and board in, I'm sure, better conditions than you are used to. Stay until Monday, if you are not convinced by then I'll take you back to your corner or get you a bus ticket to anywhere you like. I'll even give you access to all facilities until Monday morning. A better offer you won't find anywhere."

"I guess that's as fair as I can ask for. But how do you know I can be trusted?"

"I don't, but if you can give me the benefit of the doubt, I can return in kind."

"Alright. You and your harem have two days to convince me. I can smell bullshit a mile away, so if there's something fishy going on you better tell me now."

"Something tells me you can, but see for yourself."

There was a light knock on the door, it opened slowly and Samantha leaned into the room, "Mr. Silver is here, Sir."

"Very good. Would you be so kind as to show Miss Knight to her room and make her comfortable, then show Mr. Silver in. Oh, and have Daniel close the security gates and monitor it closely."

"Yes sir. Miss Knight?"

"Sadie, please."

"Sadie." She smiled, "Follow me, please.

She led me further down the hall to the last door on the left. She entered a three-digit code into a keypad above the knob and pushed the door open. "I need a three digit number."

"For?"

"Every bedroom has a coded lock to ensure your privacy and to prevent snooping and theft. Not that any of those are anything to worry about here. Everyone knows where everyone comes from and they respect each other. Only you and I will know the code."

I looked at the keypad, a standard numeric pad with corresponding letter set like a telephone. A mischievous thought popped into my head. 'COP'. "Ummm... 267"

"267 it is. Remember it well." She punched a few more buttons and the code, tested it and finally pushed the door open and walked in.

The room was spacious yet simple, a double bed, a dresser, a desk and chair and a small vanity. White walls and burgundy carpet, and a dark flower print bedspread for color. Not quite as depressing as a hospital room, but with no personality. I suppose that would be left to the occupant.

"Better than I'm used to, that's for sure." I said, nodding.

"The bathroom is across the hall, there are a variety of soaps and shampoos and such in the cabinet. Towels are on the rack next to the sink. Cinda has run water for your bath; it should still be scalding hot so test it first. When you finish there will be clean clothes on your bed. We'll find more for you in the morning, but once you're dressed meet me in the great room and I'll show you around and introduce you to the other girls."

"I won't be long. Thanks, Sam."

"Samantha, please."

I blushed, "I'm sorry. Habit I guess. Samantha. I'll remember."

She smiled quickly and left me alone in the room. I took another quick look around and crossed the hall. A bath was certainly going to feel good, and I admit I was never very comfortable in mini skirts and tube tops.

The bath was still steaming when I closed the door. I checked the cabinet and found a bar of Camay and a bottle of Pert and climbed into the tub. I took a few minutes to relax, soaking in the warmth of the water, then an odd thought crossed my mind, 'And I still haven't gotten laid.' I laughed aloud, and then remembered where I was and stifled the thought.

I scrubbed myself down and washed my hair, then tripped the drain and stood, adjusted the water and pulled the toggle for the shower, rinsing off under cooler water. I dried off, wrapped the towel around me, and opened the door. Peeking my head out I looked down the hall then dashed across to my room.

The door was locked. Dammit. I punched in 256, still locked. I tried again, no go. Great! I'm gonna have to find Samantha to let me in wearing nothing but a towel. Then it hit me. 'COP' 267, not 256. I punched it in, heard a click and turned the knob. I think everyone in the house heard my sigh of relief.

On the bed was a fresh pair of plain cotton panties, a Lycra sports bra, a pair of white shorts, a pink Izod golf shirt. 'Pink. Just lovely.' I thought. A note was tucked under the collar of the shirt:

"These should fit you pretty close. If not, pick up the phone on the desk, hit the intercom button and dial 019 and tell me what you need. Amy."

I was surprised at the fit. I don't know if Samantha gave her approximated measurements or what, but the clothes fit like I had picked them myself.

Funny, I had never gone for any of these fancy, high-tech bras, I pretty much stick to the 18 Hour variety. I don't have a hell of a lot to hold up anyway, that's one of the reason's I was chosen for Undercover Vice, makes me look younger than I am I guess. But this sports bra thing was great, it was a snug fit, but not constricting and it didn't cut into my shoulders or rub under my arms. It was a lot more comfortable than I would have thought, like being shrink-wrapped in silk. I definitely have to get some of these.

I slipped the sandals left by the bed on my feet and crept quietly down the hall. Pausing outside Zander's office door, I listened closely. I could hear three voices, two men and one young woman, but it was too muffled to make out the conversation. I would have to try to get an angle on it later.

"Ready to meet your housemates?" Samantha's voice nearly scared me out of my shirt.

"Yes. I guess I am." I smiled trying to conceal my adrenaline-induced jumpiness.

"Those look good on you." Samantha observed as we entered the great room.

"I was surprised at the fit. How did Amy know my sizes?"

"It's a knack she has. She has been studying fashion design and I have never seen anyone more suited to it."

"Let's just hope New York, Paris, and Milan agree." Turning to find the source of the mousey voice, I came face to face with a rail thin girl of oriental descent in her mid teens. "I was on the sofa by the fireplace when you came in with Lucas."

"That's an amazing gift you have. I couldn't guess your size looking at you from here. You managed to hit it on the head from thirty feet away in the few seconds it took me to walk through the room."

"Well, you were walking next to Lucas, so that gives me a familiar size to base things on. The shoes are harder to guess, so I went with sandals, they fit a wider size range."

I nodded my approval, "But why pink?"

"It's not pink, it's salmon, and I thought it would look good with your dark hair."

"Sorry. I'm not up on all the designer colors. You're right, it I do like the way it looks on me." Yeah. It was a lie, but I didn't want to hurt her feelings. Besides, what the hell did I know about fashion?

Samantha saved me from any more faux pas, "Let's have a seat and I'll introduce you to the other girls."

The girls ranged from 15 to 22 years, came from a variety of backgrounds. Their stories I had heard a hundred times before, runaways that out of desperation sold themselves to survive. The common link was obvious in that respect but didn't end there. Each of the girls had been picked up off a street corner by Lucas Zander and brought here. They were each given the same second chance and each had jumped on it. Moreover they all loved him. I suppose I could understand that, but there was another question on my mind.

"So how long is the line to get into Lucas' bed?"

The girls all laughed, some of them even blushed, refreshing considering the life they had left behind when they came here. They honestly seemed to have regained their innocence.

Tammy, the oldest of the group set me straight, "There isn't one, honey. There never will be. We've all been tempted to offer ourselves, trying to repay our debt to him. No one has succeeded yet."

"No?" I laughed, "I'm surprised. He's got a hell of a good deal here and I could see it being easy for him to take advantage of your obligations. I find it hard to believe that one man in a house of pretty young girls hasn't had a few in his bed at one time or another"

"You don't get it do you?" The girl named Cinda stood up, obviously agitated, "You think he's just like all those other guys out there who can't think of anything but fucking you. Well, he's not like that. Yeah, he plays around and flirts with us sometimes, dunking us in the pool or whistling at us when we dress nice, but it's not like you think. He's like a cross between a father and a brother to us. Yes, he loves us and we all love him, but we learn real quick what our relationship is. When we finish our schooling and find real jobs there is no one in this house that is more proud of us than him."