With a long, lingering moan of complete satisfaction, Perry Mason dropped his head to rest between Della's breasts. He lay there, breathing deeply, for several minutes. Della's reached up and twisted his silky hair between her fingers. Fresh from being washed and bereft of any pomade, the luxurious waves were more pronounced. She toyed with him contentedly, her eyes closed, her breathing matching the rhythm of his.

He said something. She'd been half asleep and couldn't make out the words.

"Hmm?" she asked.

"What went wrong in Mexico?" he repeated. "What did I do wrong?"

Della sighed. "Oh, Perry, it doesn't really matter now, does it?"

He lifted his head and stared intently into her eyes. "It matters more than ever. I need you, Della. I couldn't stand it if you pulled away from me again like you did after that night."

Della pushed herself up on her elbows, eyes suddenly flashing. "You need me? That's just it, Perry! You need me on your terms. You need me when it suits you. You need me when you're bored and don't have anything better to do. That was abundantly clear when you took off the next morning with barely a good-bye." Anger she didn't even know she'd buried rose to the surface. "I half expected to find you'd left some cash on the nightstand!"

He stared, open-mouthed, seemingly searching for words. "Della, I – I am so sorry. I never meant…" He reached for her but she pulled away.

She grasped the edge of the sheet, pulling it tight across her chest. "That morning, when you left, did you think we'd made a mistake?" she asked.

"A mistake?" He was incredulous. "Good God, Della! It was the most incredible night I'd ever spent with a woman in my life! How could that be a mistake?"

She arched an eyebrow at him, anger flashing in her eyes once again. "And yet the only words you spoke to me the next morning were 'See ya, babe. I'll send a car for you later.'"

Denial was hot on his lips but the look in her eyes stopped him. He thought back, replaying the events in his mind.

"Damn!" he moaned and rolled away from her, onto his back. He pressed his eyes shut and drove the heel of his hand into his forehead. "Damn!" he repeated.

Della, propped on an elbow, still holding the sheet, glared down at him. "Yes. 'Damn'," she said. "What was I supposed to think, after that?"

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "You should think that sometimes I am a complete idiot, but that doesn't mean I don't love you." He grinned and rolled back over so he lay on his side next to her. "Will you give me a chance to make it up to you?"

The sheet fell away from her breasts as she dropped back on the pillows. She reached across her body to grasp the hair at the back of his head. When she looked at him, he felt immense relief at the mischief he saw in her eyes. She cocked an eyebrow at him and spoke with a slow, sultry cadence. "I think you should start making it up to me right now."

With that she pushed his head further down the bed.

PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPD

The morning sun had been streaming through the opening between the shade and the window sill in Perry Mason's bedroom for quite a while before Della Street began to stir. She was lying halfway across her lover, her head on his chest and arms curled around his upper body. She could feel his heart-beat pounding beneath her cheek.

The lawyer had been awake for a while, content with watching the woman sleeping in his arms. He stroked her back softly - slow, languid strokes that prompted her to squirm slightly against him - something he found to be a very pleasant sensation indeed. Finally she drew in a deep breath and he could feel her eyelashes flutter against the skin of his chest as she opened her eyes.

Still resting against him, she reached up and rubbed one eye with the heel of her hand. As she did, Mason continued stroking her back, but now moved his hands lower, following the curve of her bottom, resting on the back of her thigh and then retracing the path up to her shoulder.

She moaned softly and finally looked up at him. He grinned down at her and pinched her playfully.

"Ow!"

Mason chuckled. "Just wanted to make sure this wasn't just a dream."

"Then pinch yourself, not me!" she said, slapping his chest lightly. "What time is it?"

He glanced at the clock. "You don't want to know."

"That late?" She sighed and rolled away from him, gathering a sheet around her as she did. "You've got an appointment with Judge Keaton this morning and I've got to get the Anderson brief filed."

Mason made a grab for the sheet just as she caught sight of the clock, herself. "Good Lord, Perry! It's almost nine! You know what Gertie's going to think with both of us showing up late."

"She'll think we overslept after spending a night making wild, passionate love?" Mason asked, his expression overly innocent.

"Exactly!" she shot back, and then disappeared through the bathroom door. Mason stared after her for a long moment, a huge smile on his face.

The smile faded later when Della insisted on taking a cab from his apartment. She didn't want the two of them to be seen arriving late together. Although most of the dust and debris had been brushed off the suit she wore the day before, she still wanted to change clothes before going to work so she would stop at her apartment before going in to the office.

Besides, she pointed out, Perry needed to go to his meeting with Judge Keaton before going to the office or risk being late. He sighed, but a quick glance at his wristwatch told him she was right. About the Judge's appointment, anyway.

Just as he was beginning to think her haste in leaving him was indicative of her doubts about what had happened the night before, she took hold of his lapels and pulled him towards her. Her lips felt hot against his, exactly as they had the night before. The kiss, deep and lingering, took his breath away as she read his mind and whispered in his ear, "No regrets." And then she pulled away and was gone.

PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPD

Paul Drake was sprawled across the client's chair chatting with Della Street when Perry finally arrived at his office.

"Della's been filling me in on the details of your adventures," Paul told him.

Perry glanced at his secretary in surprise. Her face flushed slightly. "At the mine site," she said hastily.

He cleared his throat. "Not much to tell. We didn't get a chance to question Blanton before someone showed up and started shooting at him. And us."

Paul's face never lost its expression of bored disinterest, but his eyes flashed back and forth between his companions, noting the oddities in their manner with each other. He dropped his head to hide his smile and swung around in the chair so that he was sitting in a more or less normal position. "So what now? The searchers haven't gotten through the cave-in. They've got an engineer looking at it, but they think the whole place is too unstable to try to blast through at this point."

"Any chance he escaped through another tunnel?" Mason asked.

"Always a chance, I suppose, but the plans they've found don't indicate any other exits. It's not a large mine. They haven't been drilling there long enough to make another exit."

"He saw something," the lawyer said. "He was there the night of the murder and he had to have seen something. And someone wanted to shut him up."

"You can't be sure," Drake countered.

"Maybe not, but it's the only explanation that makes any sense."

Drake shrugged. "Here's some more grist for the mill. Jason Cooper, Susan Cooper and your client are all three unaccounted for yesterday afternoon. I had a man on Mr. Cooper, but he never saw him leave the office after lunch. When five o'clock rolled around and there was no sign of him, he checked the garage. Cooper's car was there, but no sign of the man. He finally picked up the trail again later that evening at Cooper's house."

"And the Mrs.?" Mason asked. "I don't remember telling you to have her shadowed."

"You didn't. But when my man was looking for Cooper earlier in the day, he struck up an acquaintance with their cook. She likes to talk. Seems she's got no love loss for the woman and is just biding her time until another position opens up somewhere else. She was complaining because Mrs. Cooper had left specific demands for the noon meal, necessitating an extra trip to the butcher, and then never showed up to eat. When I heard that, I called her office. She hadn't been in all afternoon."

"And Millicent James?"

"She's mostly been holed up in her apartment for the past few days. She's had a couple of friends over, but that's about it. Then, yesterday afternoon or evening, one of her buddies shows up and rings for her. No answer. My man checked for himself as soon as the coast was clear. The apartment was empty. She came in about 8:00 p.m. with a couple of bags. My man took the elevator with her and had a quick conversation with her. She mentioned she'd been out shopping."

Mason rolled his eyes. "Well, hopefully Tragg will figure my client wasn't trying to kill her own attorney. The Coopers are another story. Keep on it, Paul. We need to run down where they were yesterday."

"Well," the detective drawled, getting to his feet, "I'll keep an ear to the ground. Let me know if there is anything else you want me to do."

Mason nodded, his expression thoughtful. He was staring out past the balcony to the skyline beyond. Drake slipped through the corridor door and closed it quietly behind him.

A knock at the door a few minutes later brought his thoughts back to the office. Not waiting for an answer, Della slipped inside, bringing the morning mail with her. Perry sighed and picked up a pen.

"Don't look so put out," Della said, smiling. "There's something on the top that might interest you."

The lawyer picked up the small envelope. It was formal, rather than legal size. He pulled out the card inside, and skimmed its contents. "I'm sure there is some sort of a reason this is supposed to interest me," he said. "But a charity fundraiser, even for a good cause like," - he glanced at the name on the envelope - "Gideon's Purse, is a little out of my line right now."

"Well, then, what if I told you Gideon's Purse is the charity that Susan Cooper is currently president of. And if you'll notice the return address on the front of the envelope, they've taken offices in the building across the street. Which means…"

"Which means," he said, picking up the conversational thread, "that Mrs. Cooper would be easily available for questioning." He grinned at his secretary. "You bet I'm interested!"

"My mother always said betting was a sin," she replied, her voice grave but her eyes mischievous.

"What did your mother have to say about sleeping with the boss?" he teased.

Della rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't know. She never made it past 'don't go riding in cars with boys'."

Mason laughed loudly. His mirth masked the sound of the door opening and neither of them realized they had an audience.

"Looks like I just missed the punch line."

Lawyer and secretary turned towards the speaker - Lt. Arthur Tragg of the homicide division. He was accompanied by Steve Burton, the sheriff's deputy who'd questioned them following the mine explosion the day before.

The lawyer rose to shake hands. "Deputy Burton," he said. "Tragg."

Lt. Burton seated himself across from Perry, while Lt. Tragg addressed the lawyer's secretary. "I had to come see for myself, Miss Street. I couldn't believe someone finally had the guts to try to take this guy down." He gestured towards the lawyer and grinned. "I trust you've suffered no ill-effects from the explosion?"

"Fit as a fiddle, Lieutenant," she said as she seated herself next to the lawyer's desk.

"That goes without saying. Are you sure you want to continue to hang out with this big lug? He could be hazardous to your health."

Della cut her eyes towards Perry briefly, then smiled at the Lieutenant. "It does have its benefits, Lieutenant."

"Benefits?" Tragg asked, a wicked grin on his face as he kept his eyes locked on Mason's face. Della arched an eyebrow and continued, "Combat pay, Lieutenant. If people keep trying to kill us, I should have enough saved for a vacation home in the mountains in another six months." Her grin matched Tragg's.

Mason cleared his throat. "Thanks so much for your concern, Arthur," he said, drily. "Now, what can we do for you?"

At Tragg's request Perry and Della recounted the story of their visit to the mine and the explosion. Lt. Burton assured them that the authorities were doing everything it could to locate Blanton and bring him in. Jason Cooper was under investigation as well, but he'd been fully cooperative and there was no evidence that he had anything to do with the attempt on the lawyer and secretary. Once the questions had all been asked and answered, Della showed the two men out of the office and returned to find Perry putting on his hat.

"I'm going across the street. I want to talk to Susan Cooper."

"Have fun," she said breezily. "I'll go get some iodine and gauze."

"What for?" he asked, half-way out the door.

"The scratches you'll have on your face when you get back."

"Not a bad idea," he replied, chuckling as he closed the door behind him.

PDPDPDPDPDPDP

"You and I have nothing to discuss," Susan Cooper said coldly. Perry Mason had conned the receptionist into letting him into the president's office without an appointment.

"You're not interested in bringing your father's killer to justice?"

"Of course I am!" was the tart reply. "But we both know helping you is not going to bring me any sort of justice."

"Tell me about your father," Mason said, settling in the seat across the desk from her. "What did he do after his release from prison?"

"He gardened."

"I understand that he spent some time down at your husband's office."

"He didn't have a lot to do. Prison left him a broken man and there wasn't a lot he could do," she said. "My father had been a powerful and ruthless businessman at one time. After prison he was tired and uninterested in doing any actual work. I suppose he just missed the excitement of the business. Sometimes he would visit the office and talk to the few employees left over from the old days."

"So he didn't actually do any work there?" the lawyer queried.

"No. Jason let him have an office more out of courtesy than anything else. He would read over some of the reports and give a little input, but it was nothing official."

"How well do you know Paul Blanton?"

"Not very well," she said stiffly. "He works for Jason. I think he runs the mining operation. That's all I know. You're asking me questions that you obviously already know the answers to." She got to her feet. "I've given you all the time I intend to Mr. Mason. Don't bother to come back. The staff will have strict instructions not to admit you again."

The lawyer got to his feet. "Where was your husband yesterday afternoon?"

She smiled coldly. "I said I was finished answering questions, Mr. Mason. Anything else you want to ask will require a subpoena."

"You can count on receiving such a summons, Mrs. Cooper. And you'd better clear your schedule for the day of court. You and I will be having a lengthy conversation at that time."

The anger that had been contained in her eyes spread over her face. "Get out!" she exclaimed, her voice harsh. "Get out of here and leave me alone, you damned shyster!"

Mason gave her a small bow and left.

PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPD

When he returned to his office, Mason set Jackson to work on looking through all the recent contracts filed by the Cooper Capital Investment Company.

"George Simpson was just a figure head, but he did review the contracts, at least some of them, when he was at the office," the lawyer said. "I want to find out if there is anything out of the ordinary that he would have stumbled across. Something that would make him want to investigate further."

It was just the sort of assignment that the beetle-browed law clerk excelled at. Perry Mason had no doubt that if there was anything to find, Jackson would find it. Freed of the responsibility of what he considered to be tedious, albeit important, work, Perry turned his mind to other matters. Della stuck her head in to tell him she was leaving at 5:00. She had a few errands to run and a late appointment with her hair dresser. Perry glanced up from his law book. "Will I see you later?" he asked.

"Probably not," she said with a smile. "I have a lot of things to do. But," she added, seeing the disappointment on his face, "you can always call me later. If I get everything done early, I might be bored later this evening."