“Interesting,” Jake said. “It sounds like she likes to fuck.” This was a bit worrisome on several levels, though not really unexpected. She was, after all, a young, healthy, reasonably attractive woman in the prime of her life.
“Don’t we all like to fuck?” Pauline asked simply. “All indications are that she does not currently have a regular boyfriend and that she never really has had a regular boyfriend. She identifies herself as Christian—Methodist in particular—but is not a regular churchgoer. She attends church usually only on Easter Sunday—when she’s not in Mazatlán getting knocked up and catching the clap on Spring Break anyway—and the Christmas Eve service. She is known to go out and drink alcohol on the weekends on occasion, but it is not a regular thing for her. There is some circumstantial evidence that she may like to toke up a little reefer now and then, but usually only in social situations. There is no evidence of any kind that she uses anything harder than pot and alcohol.”
“That is a good thing to know,” Jake said.
“Right,” Pauline agreed. “As for her academic life, she graduated twelfth in her class from San Luis Obispo High School in 1994. Her SAT scores were quite impressive, indicating a fair degree of intelligence. She was accepted to Cal Poly and began her freshman year in September of 1994 where she lived in the dorms on campus. Her declared major was Psychology and she carried an A average in her general education classes and a B minus average in the classes related to her major. She received her highest grades in English 1A and Sociology 101. In both of those classes, she was excused from the responsibility of taking the final because she had accumulated enough points with her essays and other assignments that she would hold onto an A even with a zero grade on the final.”
“That’s pretty good, right?” asked Jake, whose highest grade in college had been the B he had received for his intermediate guitar class.
“Yes,” Pauline said slowly. “That’s pretty good. She seems a very smart girl. She continued to attend Cal Poly until the end of the spring semester of 1996. Her grades were about the same as usual for that semester and she was on track for graduation with a Bachelor of Science in Psychology in June of this year, but for whatever reason—Steve could not uncover even speculation on this matter—she did not sign up for the fall semester of what would have been her junior year. She moved out of the dorms and went back home to her parents’ home. She got the job at KinderCare and has been living that life ever since.”
“What about her parents?” Jake asked. “Anything on them?”
“Her father is fifty-two years old and a civil engineer for the county of San Luis Obispo,” Pauline said. “Her mother is forty-eight and she owns a small business in Pismo Beach called Zachary Antiques. It’s one of those places that sells little knickknacks and things like that to the tourists passing by on Highway 101. She is pulling in around twenty thousand or so a year, free and clear, from this venture, but the dad is the real income in the family. He pulls in close to a hundred and twenty k. By all indications they are solid, normal people who contribute to the community you live in. They pay their taxes and their bills on time, they have a nice house in one of the upper-middle class neighborhoods near the mission, they go to church every Easter and every Christmas Eve, and they were able to save enough money to allow both Danielle and Meghan, their only children, to attend Cal Poly out of their savings accounts.”
“Hmmm,” Jake said thoughtfully. “The kind of people who are likely not to care too much for the likes of me and Laura.”
“That is possible,” Pauline said. “I have no indication one way or the other as to whether Meghan has told her parents about your offer of live-in employment in your household.”
“That will be an interesting conversation for her,” Jake said.
“I agree,” she said.
“Anything else?” Jake asked.
“Nothing much,” Pauline said. “She goes to the dentist twice a year, just like she should. She occasionally works in her mother’s shop, but that is infrequent. She is not known to be a gossip. She drives a 1993 Toyota Corolla that her parents paid for and she gets her oil changes on schedule at the local Jiffy Lube. She takes no antidepressant or antipsychotic meds, or in fact any medications at all save the birth control pills. She has no documented radical beliefs along the lines of animal rights, vegetarianism, environmental activism, anti-government, or anything else. Her performance reviews at KinderCare are always quite glowing and above average. She is not prone to excessive absences or other disciplinary problems.”
“It sounds like she might be a good choice,” Jake said. “You think?”
“She might be,” Pauline allowed. “The real question is whether or not she’ll be able to keep her mouth shut about what she sees, hears, and smells in the Kingsley household. She’s a known member of the community where you live and comes from a known family. People are going to ask her things once it is known she is working for you. Will she be able to resist the temptation to tell them what they want to hear?”
“This is the real question,” Jake agreed.
“Yes,” Pauline said seriously. “Particularly in light of ... well ... how to put this?”
Jake looked up at her. “How to put what?”
She took a deep breath. “You know I’m always straight with you, little bro, and that I’m always looking out for your interests, right?”
“Right,” he said.
“And I’m not one to judge what you do in your private life,” she added. “I never have been and I never will be. You know that too, right?”
Jake sighed. “Is this about Laura and Celia and I?” he asked.
She looked a bit taken aback. “Uh ... well ... yes, actually,” she said. “It is about that.”
Jake nodded. “Elsa already had this talk with us,” he said. “She let it be known that everyone close to us is aware of what is going on.”
“Oh, well, that makes this discussion a little easier then,” Pauline said. “She’s right. You weren’t fooling anyone. I’ve known about the three of you for several months now.” She looked at her brother slyly. “How is she, by the way? I’ve seen her almost naked once, and she has a fantastic body. Does it feel as good as it looks?”
“Pauline!” Jake cried, scandalized.
“What?” she asked. “I’ve always had a little curiosity about the girl-on-girl thing. And if I was ever going to do it, Celia is who I would pick.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jake said, shaking his head. “How about I just get Matt’s old lady to send over some of those amateur lesbian porn videos she makes?”
“I already own most of them,” Pauline said. “Good shit there. Anyway, I wasn’t trying to embarrass you.”
“You succeeded nonetheless,” Jake said.
“Sorry,” she said, sounding anything but. “My point, however, is that if you move Meghan into your house, she is going to figure out pretty quickly that the three of you are doing the nasty with each other. That’s some pretty compelling gossip there.”
“That’s why I asked you to draw up a nondisclosure agreement,” Jake said. “That way, she’ll know there is a consequence if she starts blabbing our business around town.”
“I did draw one up,” she said. “It’s in the envelope with the rest of the papers. I’m just not sure that a simple NDA is enough to keep her mouth shut.”