Catherine Pinkerton Novels & Stories

Opening the door, Christiana stood in front of her. "I forgot my handbag and umbrella at your house." "So sorry for the inconvenience." Her voice was laced with remorse. Staring at her, Daisy Hunter said," What, No, it's really okay…I too forget my stuff in people's homes." Daisy Hunter said, smiling gleefully, exposing her perfect dentition. Stepping into the dimly lit room, Christiana spotted her handbag and umbrella, grabbing it, she thanked Daisy and stepped out immediately.

They said they didn’t take anything or put it on top so it was impossible for them. I opened it and a lot of paper came out to me again. I immediately remembered the necklace with the M pendant. I hid it in my bag and I wasn’t wearing it anymore because I forgot so I took it immediately. I looked again. I shook it and put it around my neck. I started looking at the papers. Maybe my Mom or Dad has a letter here. Or maybe there are important documents here. ‘Certificate of Deposit’? I frowned at what I had read. Depositors name: Mary Madison Evans.

“Your assistant?” Catherine didn’t flinch. She met his stare straight on, chin lifted, the way she did when she was calculating exits and angles. “Catherine Hart, Mr. Klein. Just wrapping up some filings for Ms. Peron, sir.” She looked efficient and professional. Inside, I knew her mind was racing the same track mine was: Does he know about us? Does he know I fuck her after work—my fingers buried deep in her cunt, her mouth hot and desperate on mine?

Kate says. Pulling out my phone, I put a call into Cory. As he answers he is out of breath and telling someone to wait for him in the background. I have him on speaker phone and see Kate roll her eyes, as she takes this all in. “Yeah Jackson, did you get your daughter straightened out yet?” Cory asks. Kate’s eyes go wide as she hears this, but I shake my head. This isn’t the time, “Cory, I told you that you had to do what was in the agreement before she would let up. I am calling about this Louise Adams. Who is she?” I ask. Shockingly Cory starts laughing, “Oh Jackson, come on man, we both know who she is. She’s a relative of yours. Now that’s all I’m prepared to share until I get

She bites her lower lip— white teeth sinking into red flesh— then turns, smiling at the bartender. "Whisky please. Rocks." Her gaze returns to me, and she raises her eyebrows. "Make that two," I say, not leaving her gaze. A minute later he places the drinks in front of us, her hand immediately reaching out to bring it to her lips. "Katherine," she says after taking a slow sip, "but my friends call me Kat." "Adam, but everyone calls me Emilio." "I think I'll stick with Adam," she replies haughtily, daring me to tell her otherwise. I lean in closer to her, trailing her body with my eyes again. I can't stop looking at her legs. She notices, and again raises an eyebrow.

Emily Warner The loud knocking and my cat meowing in my face woke me up. What the damn hell? “Emily Anne Warner, if you don’t open this damned door in a minute, I swear to god I will knock it down with a bulldozer. I am not kidding you. You haven’t replied to any texts or calls in a week. At least before that you answered my texts. I am not going to leave you alone now.” I sat up straight in my bed as I could hear Danika yelling.

Catherine and Lucas walked up to her all dressed with the theme of the party which was all pastel pink. He was wearing a simple but elegant black shirt and pastel pink waist coat which almost looked like the waiters uniform but he didn't really care anyway. Catherine was more over the top with her sleek evening pastel pink gown and fur which was on here like a shawl with matching earrings that made Alice a little bit jealous. She was wearing a simple pastel pink off-shoulder blouse with a very sleek pencil shirt to go with it and a beautiful Ruby necklace to go along with it.

Catherine sat cross-legged on the floor playing with plastic animals. Alex kept checking the clock. 1:56. 1:57. Dominic squeezed her hand. “Whatever happens,” he said softly, “we adjust.” Alex nodded. But one thought kept repeating in her head. What if fifteen days of fatigue did nothing? The nurse called them at exactly two. Catherine climbed onto the exam table like a professional patient. “Hi Dr. Park!” “Hi Catherine,” he said warmly. “Ready for stickers?” She sighed dramatically. “Okay.” The EKG machine hummed to life.

"They were stuck, you see. They had to cut them out while she watched." Another orgasm was building. Impossible but there. "You're going to come again, aren't you?" She sounded delighted. "Already? You don’t even care about what I'm telling you?" The pressure was building in my balls. Too fast. Too soon. "1889. Catherine. Sixteen. White hair. She worked in a brothel." She was slamming down onto me now. "Four children in three years. Died during the fourth birth." Close. I was getting close.

Something significant was transpiring. Taking out her sleek phone, Catherine scanned through her contacts until she found the name she sought: Detective Reynolds. She dialed the number, a predatory grin appearing as the call connected. “Reynolds,” came the gravelly voice from the other end. “Darling,” Catherine cooed, her tone sugary yet sharp. “I’ve got a small task for you that involves investigating someone. I want every last detail.” Reynolds paused for a moment. “Who’s the target?”