Wire Mother

Prologue

Is there anyone with a more potentially seductive evil than a teenage girl?

Sixteen year old Marilyn Gunderson, later to be Marilyn Collins in a Hollywood name change designed to erase all traces of her past, was coming of age in the Minnesota outback, truly a land forgotten by time, certainly ignored by the twentieth century.

She was hauntingly beautiful and frighteningly brilliant.

A deadly combination.

She always had something unwholesomely exciting about her, an unspoken erotic seduction that seemed to ooze out of her very pores with a malevolent vitality that masqueraded as daring.

She knew it.

She practiced it.

She cultivated it.

She used it to her every advantage regardless of the consequences, because Marilyn had a profoundly malignant soul. She was an amoral monster created by backwoods lust and incest, which convinced her the only rules of humanity were the ones she created in the here and now.

The ones created to own.

The ones created to control.

The fact that her father had come into her bed at an early age was normal in Marilyn’s world, an unconscious, automatic act, like breathing. It’s as if she and her father were living on opposite sides of a mirror that reflected only in another depraved universe. The idea that it was a corrupt deviation of the human soul never crossed her mind.

Marilyn was a malignant narcissist. Was she born evil or molded in her father’s image? Had she always been missing that invaluable chip which seems to give the rest of us a conscience? Or had the years of lusty, hidden, shameful perversion conceived the predatory demon without fear or scruples? Or was evil its own reward?

It was impossible to know, of course. Evil doesn’t require any special incantation to exist. In the end, it didn’t really matter. The only thing that did matter was the damage she caused and the horror she spawned.

When she seduced men twice and three times her age and sometimes more, she would pulse and vibrate with the power she possessed.

The power that would allow her to control every aspect of her life.

The power that would allow her to control everyone she touched.

Her first victim had been her very own brother, Christian. She sashayed and preened and strutted half naked in front of him like a hooker in an Amsterdam window. He never had a chance. He knew he shouldn’t have her, yet he couldn’t not have her either.

The question of who seduced who would always be a debate between them, right until the time he hung himself.

After that, of course, it would be a moot point.

* * *

Joshua James Scott had been in love with Caroline Dupree most of his life. They had met, quite by accident, when ten year old Joshua and his father James, were hunting the Louisiana bayou, trying to bond. A hopeless endeavor if there ever was one.

Joshua first saw her standing barefoot in the middle of a worn down hunting shack on an island in the middle of the swamp. Her gaze was steady and unquestioning, sorrowful and hypnotic. She was wearing an old cotton dress, her blond hair disheveled and she seemed to look right into him. Maybe it was her orphaned, waif like quality that brought out all of his fledgling protective instincts.

James tied the boat up at the camp and roused Caroline’s father. They were looking for prolific hunting grounds. Josh realized quickly that not only did his father know precious little about stalking and killing animal prey, but that he, Joshua, pretty much hated it from the first moment.

He did not, however, hate Caroline Dupree. From that fateful day until his death, Joshua Scott would absolutely, positively adore Caroline, except for the slight matter of a six year stretch of time he would spend married to the apprentice of Satan.

It’s not that Josh didn’t try. He wanted desperately to make Caroline his wife.

It’s just that he didn’t try hard enough.

He didn’t have courage enough.

He wasn’t brave enough.

He had ceded too much power over his life to a father who had too much money not to get his own way…every time.

Joshua Scott was born to evil money.

He was born to evil, corrupt, Louisiana good ‘ole boy’s money.

He was born to evil take no prisoners and kill what you can’t destroy or control money.

He knew it.

He hated it.

It made him feel tainted and always somehow vaguely unclean.

"You will not marry that bayou trash while I am alive. I will disinherit you, then draw and quarter you with my own hands and feed you to the alligators outside her door so she can watch the glorious spectacle of your last moments on earth.

You will not corrupt our patrician bloodline with a cur. Do whatever you want with her. I give you my blessing. Spawn a million bastards if you feel the need, but never, never, he hissed loudly, bring that woman into this house as an equal. You don’t pollute the pure breed’s bloodline with a mongrel. James stuck his face an inch from Josh’s. Do you understand me, son?

Oh, yes, he understood very well.

The absolute patriarchal power of wealthy Louisiana families in the 1950’s was never to be questioned and Josh was, if nothing else, a decent and obedient son, who would love Caroline Dupree to his grave. So, she became his lover, his not so secret mistress. He took an apartment for them in the French Quarter, a home that would be theirs alone to spend precious secret moments and double as a sanctuary from the venomous rages of Papa Jim.

Despite all their best efforts, the happy ending was not to be. Caroline became pregnant. The only option available, to prevent her from being an official slut and thus disgraced forever in the world in which they lived, was for her to find a husband and so she did.

Joshua would forever wonder why he never found his voice. In that moment in time, he would be forever a coward, bowing before the graven image of his father, begging for alms.

* * *

James Devereaux was a semi-alcoholic Cajun who had been in love with Caroline for almost as long as Josh. He was so obsessed with her, as a matter of fact, that he never really questioned her sudden interest in him after years of being rebuffed. A man needs to take his good fortune wherever he finds it, was his motto.

Tired of waiting for Josh to find his backbone, Caroline married James

Devereaux when Josh was out of town and they lived miserably ever after.

Josh, of course, was devastated when he heard the news.

Did you expect me to wait forever for your father’s permission to live my life? Caroline spat at him.

Of course, she was right.

He had tried to walk the thin fence rail between love and duty and had fallen off both sides, a sin for which he would spend eternity trying to find absolution.

He would later say that if he had it to do all over again, he would push Papa Jim into Lake Ponchartrain and never look back.

Hindsight.

The decisions we don’t make are often more destructive than the ones we do.

In a final, futile and impotent act of defiance, Josh moved Caroline, James Devereaux, Sr., who would be forever after known simply as Senior and James, Jr., his very own son, into the back house, the servant’s quarters, where he could forever and always keep her close. Caroline, always independent and proud, agreed only because Senior was proving to be disturbingly inept at supporting anything but a drink in his hand.

Too little.

Too late.

* * *

Leo Manshin, best friend and confidant of very rich and very powerful old family money investment banker, Joshua Scott, could never quite figure out why the gods had smiled on him so widely. Leo had always been a little confused about just how he had gotten to this particular position in his life. He had been born to a beautiful single Cajun named Sally Manshin, the Louisiana daily double for living out a lifetime commitment to minimum wage. Sally had raised him, loved him and pampered him in ways that tried to compensate for the lack of a live in father.

Leo had somehow mysteriously found himself, at the age of eighteen, at Tulane University, majoring in business, after having bizarrely won a full scholarship no one else seemed to even know existed.

No matter.

In the words of the inimitable George Washington Plunkett, he seen his opportunities and he took ‘um, parlaying the scholarship into a graduation filled with honors and a job in investment banking along side Joshua Scott, who, since his father owned the bank, was much less impressed with the accomplishment.

The two of them found an instant and easy camaraderie, often joking at how much they looked alike, with their thick dark hair and deep brown eyes. Simple acquaintances in childhood, they became fast friends and confidants.

Almost like brothers.

* * *

Daniel O’Dea, five feet ten with twinkling blue eyes, was a living contradiction, giving legitimacy to the concept that no one is ever just one thing. A brilliant investment banker with a logical and orderly mind, he was considered by many to be the high priest of investment banking, yet he longed to write gentle haunting novels about his beloved Louisiana, finding it easy to separate the heart and soul half of his brain from the methodical accountant half. Married to his only love, Mary, he carefully threaded his way through the Louisiana maze of money, power and insider immorality to land a plumb and prestigious job working for James Scott. A man he thoroughly and personally abhorred.

The three of them, Joshua, Leo and Daniel, would become the enduring trio.

At the end of it all, this is the basic question.

How much can be forgiven?

What is the limit?

Chapter 1

Joshua James Scott, breathtakingly handsome thirty-two year old multimillionaire New Orleans investment banker and supposed confirmed bachelor, stood at his third floor window gazing at the sprawling movie set below, his eyes focused on the film’s star, Hollywood bad girl, Marilyn Collins.

He should go down and introduce himself. He was, after all, a major investor in the film, having provided enough money to insist on a New Orleans location, knowing it would be good for the city in multiple ways. Josh’s eyes were riveted on Marilyn, the most stunningly beautiful thing he had ever seen. Her blond hair shimmered in the sun, as if it were alive, framing her head like a pulsating halo, or medusa he would later think.

Joshua chuckled to himself. If what he had heard about her was only half true, Marilyn was a very, very naughty girl. He smiled to himself in the empty room wondering if maybe that was part of the allure. Mesmerized and more than a little intimidated by the woman he saw below, his shoes seemed filled with concrete and his legs felt heavy as if made of lead posts, while at the same time he felt an odd tingling with little pin pricks of numbness traveling around inside his body giving his skin an uncomfortable prickling sensation, like wearing a wool sweater.

Later, after it was all over, he liked to convince himself that somewhere in the primordial ooze that coursed through his veins, he knew in an oddly elemental,

visceral way that she was the evil flame and he was the helpless moth. Well, maybe not that helpless.

After what seemed like hours of internal debate, Joshua Scott finally found his mojo and ambled down to the set, nonchalantly watching from the sidelines with everybody else, trying to blend in, pretending to be just one of the boys, which of course, he had never really been.

There was a break in the action. In all honesty, from what Josh had been able to discern, movie making was more break than action. No wonder films were so expensive to make. A few minutes of usable film from a twelve hour day added up the pennies pretty quickly.

Josh, Joshua Scott, come on over and meet the cast.

Josh vaguely heard someone summon him, but he was so deeply involved in an internal dialogue that he had blotted out all the chaos around him.

Josh? said the director once again, suddenly at his side.

I’m sorry. I guess I was lost in thought, he smiled brilliantly. How may I help you?

Buying and selling stocks in your head no doubt.

Josh smirked. Something like that.

Well, come on over and meet the cast.

Joshua hesitated, ever so slightly, and remained cemented to his spot. No, no, I don’t need to get in the way.

Don’t be silly. After all the money you’ve put up for this film, the least we can do is be hospitable. Besides, he winked conspiratorially, Marilyn has spied you and wants an introduction.

Josh stared at him numbly and swallowed hard. He heard his voice say, Really? from very far away and in a tone he didn’t think he had ever used before.

Marilyn Collins stood stock still, legs slightly parted, watching intently as he was led to her, the crowd parting as if Moses were in the lead. He half expected to hear a whip crack. She looked like someone with intimate knowledge of the darker appetites.

A lamb to the slaughter.

Well, not quite a lamb.

But it would, in the end, be a slaughter.

She didn’t wait for the introductions, but strode to him gracefully with her hand out. Hello, I’m Marilyn Collins, she purred ferally. I understand you’re the famous, handsome, rich Joshua Scott who’s making all of this circus possible, she gestured at the set with one hand while holding Josh’s right hand firmly in the other. Her eyes never left his. He could feel himself being pulled into her, like a rip tide drawing the innocent out to sea, being sucked into a vacuum and he wasn’t half as afraid as he should have been.

Yes, he chuckled. Of course, all of that is absolutely true, he replied pulling her slightly closer and wondering just where all of his sudden nerve was coming from.

Ah, I like a man who knows himself, she said stepping almost imperceptibly closer and assessing him openly. You are very, very exotically handsome. Just like they all said. Maybe later, you could give me lessons on how to be a proper southern woman who knows how to please her man.

He didn’t know how she did it, but every word, every gesture, exuded seduction.

I’d love to, he replied huskily, feeling himself start to perspire and his loins to tingle.

Love is an illusion, she purred once again. That’s what makes it so interesting and dangerous.

Dangerous? he smirked.

She leaned into him, making certain that her breasts touched his chest ever so lightly and whispered. We could fall off the edge of the earth as it moves beneath us. She turned and majestically strode away, knowing full well he was watching every move.

She was absolutely intoxicating. Josh felt himself growing hard, and he was surprised at his reaction and sudden lack of basic control in so public a place. He knew her allure was hardly synonymous with wholesome, more like the hypnotic movement of a viper’s tongue, readying its prey for the deadly strike. Yet, he was helpless to look away, mesmerized by a base and sordid magic he found alluring.

Later, when the picture of the two of them meeting on that fateful day would appear in the Hollywood press with the caption He Never Had A Chance, Josh would nod slightly in agreement, knowing he had willingly succumbed to dark and evil forces, like Faust, selling his soul to the devil for the promise of glory.

Josh felt someone at his side and tore his eyes away from Marilyn’s retreating body to see who wanted him.

She eats people like us for a snack, said Leo.

I hope so, grinned Josh widely.

Josh, I didn’t mean that in a nice way. She’s a piranha. We may not even find your bones when she’s done.

Josh grinned at Leo and put his hand on Leo’s shoulder. Don’t worry, my friend. I can take care of myself. Consenting adults and all that.

Leo eyed Josh warily. She’s way out of your league. She’s way out of everyone’s league.

Absolutely, chuckled Josh. Absolutely.

Josh, I’m serious here. She’s a grab bag of at least five of the deadly sins and will leave your life in deep and persistent shadow.

Waxing a little poetic, aren’t you? She is beautiful though, isn’t she? he sighed wistfully.

Leo frowned sadly and shook his head, knowing very well that Joshua Scott was on a road from which few returned intact.

Even though death is always the inevitable result, it somehow never stops the spider from mating with the black widow and going out in a veritable blaze of glory.

Chapter 2

So tell me, Josh, you don’t mind if I call you that, do you? whispered Marilyn in a slightly breathless voice.

No, I don’t mind, chuckled Josh. What else would you call me? Mr. Scott? That would seem pretty silly considering the circumstances, don’t you think?

The two of them were languishing in Marilyn’s huge king sized motel bed. A luxury she had insisted on and none too easy to find in early 1960’s Louisiana.

Josh, completely unaccustomed to intimacy with strange women, had taken care to cover his nakedness. Marilyn was only the fourth woman he had ever slept with, a pitiful count by anyone’s standards for a thirty-two year old bachelor. Then again, there had been only Caroline for the first thirty years of his life.

After Caroline had married Senior, Josh had managed to find solace elsewhere for a brief time, but the encounters never left him happy.

Certainly not like this.

Marilyn had definitely left him happy…or perhaps satisfied was a better word.

Definitely satisfied.

The woman did certainly know how to conduct a seduction, he would gladly give her that. She was a marvel of energy and agility. He only hoped he had managed to keep up his half of the conquest.

So to speak.

Marilyn played with his hair, twisting it and running her hands through it. You have the most beautiful auburn hair. It’s just remarkable, so thick with just a lovely sexy hint of curl. She climbed on top of him and took his face in her hands, looking straight into his eyes. And the most beautiful, sorrowful and expressive brown eyes.

She began to kiss him while removing the covers from his growing manhood, expertly lowering herself onto him. And such a nice big boy, too, she cooed, riding and clinging to him like a raft on the mighty Niagara.

You ever have a woman ride you like that, she asked breathlessly when they finished.

No, I can’t say that I have, he managed to blurt out between gulps for air.

It’s my specialty, she grinned knowingly. Did you like it?

Josh looked at her evenly, fear in his heart at the animal lust in this woman. Yes, very much.

Good, she purred, because there’s more where that came from.

To say he had never met anyone like her was an understatement of monumental proportions. No one had ever met anyone like her, simply because for all of her whore like commonness, Marilyn truly was in many ways, very unique.

I always thought you Louisiana boys were all wrapped up in juleps and humidity and aberrant sex on hot southern summer nights running ice cubes down your very steamy bodies, she laughed with a sound that was musical and cold and filled with lust all at the same time.

It sent a shiver through him.

It should have triggered an internal warning like a tornado siren.

You’ve been reading too many books and watching too many movies, he laughed uneasily. I’m just an investment banker with a dull and boring life.

Well, then, she said grabbing an ice cube or two from the ice bucket. Let’s spice you up.

I’m not sure I’ve got another round in me, he said inhaling as she placed his penis in her mouth and rubbed the rapidly melting ice cubs on his scrotum.

Sure you do, she giggled. Let me show you.

And darned if she wasn’t right.

* * *

Josh lay staring at the ceiling in the new morning light, wondering just how he had managed to walk home last night, certain they had set some kind of record for pure and simple debauchery.

At least he was pretty sure he had.

He felt dirty somehow, used, as if he had done something sinful, which all things considered, he may have. Yet, the mere thought of her excited him. He couldn’t believe he was actually having another erection which he had been pretty certain would not be possible for days.

He feared the power she suddenly seemed to have over him. Repulsed as he was by some of the things he had done, he was more horrified that he wanted her again.

God help him.

Leo had been right. She was definitely out of his league, but no question about it, he wanted to play up.

* * *

I don’t know what I’m going to do, Leo. I am totally captivated by her.

More like besotted, Josh. I told you. I warned you.

Yes, yes, yes you did.

The movie is almost done and then off she’ll go and we can all get back to normal.

Only trouble is, Leo, I don’t know what normal is anymore.

You’ll have to find it again. This woman, this movie queen, will spit your soul at you if you let her.

Josh looked at him coldly. She’s not like that. She’s really very vulnerable.

Leo stared at Josh with pity. Man, you’re hooked. Just know I’ll always be here when you get back to earth.

Chapter 3

An obsession.

That’s what she was now.

An obsession.

An addiction, like alcohol, only worse.

He couldn’t get her out of his head.

She knew it.

She reveled in it.

She used it.

I lived with my father and brother in Bumfuck, Minnesota, she laughed bitterly. I couldn’t wait to get out, especially after my brother killed himself.

Your brother killed himself? That’s awful, Marilyn. I’m so sorry.

They were at Josh’s apartment in the French Quarter. The one he had bought as a home for Caroline and himself. An idle annoying thought of betrayal brushed across his consciousness and he willed it away.

Yeah, she said twirling her hair around her fingers like a little girl. He hung himself in the barn. I found him.

Josh went to her side and encircled her with his arms. That must have been awful for you. Why did he do it, do you know?

Marilyn frowned. I don’t know, not really. He was in love with some girl. I guess she didn’t love him back.

That’s tragic.

She shrugged. It was a long time ago. I don’t think about it much. His name was Christian. I always thought if I had a kid, that’s what I’d like to name him. Christian, I mean.

What about your father?

He’s dead, she said so matter-of-factly and without any apparent emotion, that

Josh was somewhat stunned.

How, how did he die?

Marilyn gave him a long look. He drowned in the river out back of our house a couple of months after my brother died. So, she sighed deeply, I figured it was time to head somewhere else. No sense sticking around Nowhere, U.S.A.

That’s when you went to Hollywood?

Yup. I was eighteen and had a fresh high school diploma in my hot little hands. I thought I was hot shit, you know. Eighteen and knowing everything.

Josh smiled. I remember.

Anyway, I went west young woman, had a couple of screen tests, slept with more than a couple of agents, producers and directors and the rest as they say is history.

Josh frowned, realizing he was deeply jealous and maybe even a little repulsed. Did you sleep with a lot of men?

Marilyn smirked. As many as I had to my little country bumpkin, she grinned widely. "Sorry. My big country bumpkin."

She straddled Josh and laughed at his discomfort at her revelation. I started no-where. I didn’t have a rich daddy and a college education like you. She grabbed his face and kissed him passionately. "I’ve made something of myself. I made myself into somebody. I will not apologize for that."

Of course not, he gasped as she began to fondle him.

Chapter 4

Leo, I can’t fucking think straight anymore.

Well, that’s your problem right there, too much fucking. All that semen loss has collapsed vital areas of your brain and clogged your ability to think straight.

I think I’m in love with her, Leo.

No, you’re in lust with her. Get the terminology straight. Look, she knows what men have always denied. We think with our cocks. It’s sad. It’s also true. It’s a sad and embarrassing truth.

I, I think I may want to marry her.

Josh, what the hell are you thinking? You’re besotted with her, pure and simple. She sucks you; she fucks you. Ok. I get that, but you better be careful or she’s going to strip your gears and leave you for dead in the bayou. People are commodities to her.

Josh stared at Leo in silent anger.

Man, oh man, sighed Leo, the woman must have a mouth like a Hoover.

Josh grinned quickly in spite of himself. It’s not like that. She, she, she told me she loves me.

Leo stared at Josh in stunned fascination, as if watching a new and bizarre magic act. Love? Love? What the hell does that woman know about love? I’m surprised the very word didn’t eat off her tongue, like an acid bath.

Leo, said Josh in a warning tone.

Josh, I love you like a brother. I can’t believe…

She’s pregnant, Leo, interrupted Josh.

Leo plopped in a chair and let his breath out noisily, his lips flapping around his teeth like a dog with its head out the car window. Well, well, I’ll be damned. He rubbed his forehead rhythmically. I’ll be damned. Son of a bitch, Josh. Son of a bitch.

The two old friends stared at each other in stunned silence.

Josh, we’re pretty naïve, for Louisiana boys, I’ll grant you that, but even you, in your highly and constantly excited state, have got to see through this.

Josh stared hard at his old friend. I don’t understand what you mean.

Josh. Focus. The woman has no doubt pretty much screwed everything that lives on the earth. It’s no big national secret that she screwed herself into a career. In all that, ah, activity, she always seemed to understand the concept of fertility. Now, all of a sudden, it’s a mystery and she’s pregnant.

Josh shrugged, almost imperceptibly. She loves me. We’re going to have this child together.

Leo stared at the floor for a long beat. What about Caroline? You seem to already have a child…with her.

Jimmy is my responsibility. I don’t need to be reminded.

Silence.

Caroline is married…to Senior. She made her choice, if you will recall. We’ve moved on.

It seems to me, replied Leo softly. You chose your father and your inheritance and then Caroline made the only choice she could.

Leo, we’ve been close friends for a long time. I’d like you to be my best man, but I’ll find someone else if you prefer.

Leo shook his head sadly. No. I’ll do it. I’ll be there for the beginning…and always remember, I’ll be there at the end.

Prophetic words.

Chapter 5

Joshua James Scott, a privileged son of the south, married Hollywood glamour girl Marilyn Collins, in a huge storybook wedding at the Scott family mansion. It was a remarkably beautiful and stately old mansion in the historic southern style. The home itself had survived decades of storms, war and all manner of pestilence, yet it still stood on its little knoll, proud and dignified. The live oaks that lined the drive hung over, forming a perfect canopy, giving the illusion of genteel southern civilization. The sky was a perfect cobalt blue with high fluffy clouds in a day that was made to order. No Hollywood set could have been as magnificently perfect.

Between good ‘ole boy southern power and Hollywood royalty, everyone who was anyone in practically one half of the country was in attendance.

Even Caroline, who served the canapés.

The bride was characteristically stunning in the tried and true glamour of Tinsel- town, wearing white no less. A mockery not lost on most in attendance.

The groom, though visibly nervous, was easily the handsomest man inside or outside of movies. Every one remarked that Leo Manshin, the best man, could have been family looking like a slightly less handsome version of the groom.

The happy couple honeymooned extensively in Europe. The bride did not wish anyone to either see or photograph her in her balloon like state of repulsive pregnancy.

Josh thought she had never looked more beautiful.

The honeymoon had not gone as well as Josh had assumed. There were those times, when they weren’t rutting like animals, that he began to seriously wonder if Marilyn was all that mentally stable, her behavior sometimes bordered on the bizarre. She switched easily from one divergent personality to another…from seductive to petty to downright cruel without even shifting gears. The transition between her different selves was so lightening quick, Josh spent most of his time off balance and confused, unsure of who he should be to keep up.

Leo had been right.

He was besotted with her.

Obsessed.

His sexual behavior often repulsed and frightened him. God help him, he seemed incapable of most forms of rational thought in her presence. Joshua knew, deep in his viscera, that the story would not have a happy ending. Yet, his mania for her was so complete, even in its often repulsive perversions, that he just couldn’t stop.

That horrible deviance that we always fear exists inside us, to ravage us, had come out to play and successfully consumed Joshua Scott.

Chapter 6

The child, a boy, whom they named Christian, after Marilyn’s deceased brother, was born in secret in a New York City hospital, the happy couple wishing