Disclaimer: Please be forewarned that this story contains explicit and graphic sex between two consenting adult females. If you are under the age of 18 or live in a place where this type of story is illegal then please stop reading now.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
They drove to a park and sat in the car watching a cocker spaniel chasing a ball being thrown by a young man in a red coat. After a moment, Alex turned to her friend.
Aware of her stare, Jamie sighed and met her gaze. "Itís a long story."
"Iíve got time."
The story came out in a flat monotone. Jamie stared out of the window as she told Alex of the abuse and the reason why her father had been eliminated from her life. When she was done, Alex took her hand. "Why didnít you say anything before, Jamie?"
There was genuine hurt behind the question.
"I spent thirty years trying to forget it. Itís not an easy thing to talk about. Iím sorry, Alex; I didnít want to it to change our friendship." Tears came to her eyes and Jamie rubbed at them impatiently.
"Do you think I would think any less of you for the actions of a creep?" There was anger now. "What kind of friend do you think I am if I couldnít be there for you, accepting of what you went through?"
They stared at each other. Something fundamental had shifted between them. The lack of honesty had created a jagged break in the rock of their friendship and neither of them knew how to repair it as they continued staring at each other. What would come next would widen the crack. Alex was reluctant to ask, but knew she had to.
"Jamie, were you in that hotel room that night?"
Something flickered on Jamieís face. A momentary hurt that the question had been asked.
"No." She looked out of the window then back to her friend. Alex looked thoughtful.
"Well, if it wasnít you, but the person looked enough like you for Shane to have mistaken one for the other..." She trailed off.
Jamie sighed. "I think we both know who it might have been."
***
"Aunt Jamie!" The pig tailed blond haired girl ran across the lawn and launched herself into Jamieís arms as soon as the tall blonde stepped out of the car. Jamie forced a smile to her face as she hugged her niece. "Hey there, brat, youíre getting almost as tall as me."
The six year old giggled and turned to Alex. "Hi, Auntie Alex. Do you have your gun?"
Alex smiled at her, but her blue eyes remained cool. "Nope. This is my day off." Alex glanced at Jamie but her friend avoided her eyes as Jamie smiled at the young girl.
"Whereís your mom?"
"Out back. Sheís painting a chair; Iím helping." She grinned and showed off her paint splattered hands and the gap where her two front teeth should have been. "Iím going to have chocolate later." She ran off into the back to announce their arrival.
Jamie stood still as she stared at the two-storey house with its pretty peak and bright red door. The nausea she had felt on the drive over returned. Taking a deep breath, she started walking around to the back. Alex followed silently.
Her sister Emma, alerted to their visit by her daughter, had started
making her way to the front and waved at them as she continued wiping
her paint-splattered hands on a rag. She was identical in every way to
Jamie, though she wore her blond hair longer. Her eyes, more green than
Jamieís own deep gray, looked on with amusement as her daughter gave a
careless wave and ran to the house.
"This is a surprise," Emma said with a light laugh. She turned her attention to Alex. "And you, stranger, havenít seen you in ages."
Alex forced a smile. "I know. Iím a slave to my work. And your sister over there keeps insisting on driving, so I never make it over here. I think she doesnít want me to get any of your famous brownies."
Emma laughed but her eyes caught the worried watchfulness in her sisterís eyes. Years of being in tune with her twinís emotions had her suddenly dropping the rag, concerned.
"What is it?"
"We need to talk without being interrupted."
Emma gave them a startled glance, then nodded once. They walked back to the house and Emma went searching for her daughter. After putting a video on for her and preparing a quick snack, she returned to the kitchen where Jamie was pacing while Alex faked nonchalance as she slouched in a chair.
"Not here." Emma said as she stopped in the doorway, and they turned to her expectantly. They followed her to the small study off the kitchen. The desk was covered with a pile of essays that Emma, as a fourth grade teacher, still needed to mark, colorful finger-painted pictures of abstract shapes that were clearly animals if one knew of such things. Emma stepped to the desk and turned, a faint line of worry between her eyes. Her fingers nervously shuffled some of the papers around. The air felt heavy as the tension settled over the room.
Alex was the last to enter and she closed the door, leaning against it. Jamie startedto pace, her entire body vibrating with emotion. Her mind was tangled with too many thoughts and as she looked white faced at her sister, she could not figure out a way to ask the questions that needed asking.
Her sisterís face paled and her body took on the same lines of nervous energy. "Jamie, what is it?"
"Emma, I need to ask you something and God knows I donít want to ask but I have to," Jamie choked out. She stopped pacing and turned to her sister, gray eyes turbulent, bright with unshed tears.
"James, youíre scaring me."
"I need to know if you were in Dadís hotel room the night he was killed." The words came out in a rush. Jamie closed her eyes as she finished and missed Emmaís look of horror. Jamieís whole body tensed as if warding off a blow. Alex, watching them from the door, felt her heart sink at Emmaís reaction. She fought against her sudden need to stop the questioning before they got answers that they could not live with.
For a long tense moment, Emma could only stare at her sister, then she started to cry. At that, Jamie stepped toward her and her hands gripped her sisterís arms. "Emma, honey, did you go there?" There was a plea in her tone. Worry was in her eyes, urgency in her body language. She knew the answer before Emma responded and felt her heart rap against her ribcage.
Emma nodded as tears streamed down her face. Jamie felt the blow of it and the nausea returned. She was unaware of the tears inching down her face. "For Godís sake, why?"
Emma wiped a shaky hand across her eyes. "To warn him to stay away from Ashley."
Emmaís answer wasnít what she had expected. A look of dawning horror crossed Jamieís face and her hands clenched at her side as her sister continued. "He went to see her at school. She came home one day from school and out of the blue told me about meeting her grandpa."
Jamie could barely get the words out. "Did he touch her?"
Emma shook her head violently. "No. No." She started to cry again; the anguish and fear in her body slumping her shoulders, she sank into a nearby chair. "I felt my whole world tilt and turn upside down that day."
Jamie knelt in front of her. "Emma, honey, what happened that night?" Her eyes wandered worriedly over to where Alex was standing, looking transfixed. The eyes met briefly and it was Alex who looked away. Jamieís eyes returned to her twin.
"When she told me about seeing him, I was terrified. I canít explain the shock that went through me. I hadnít thought of him in years. Tried not to. What was past was past and I had a new life. But knowing he had come so close to my baby drove me crazy. Thinking of the possibilities. Remembering." She shuddered and Jamie felt it as if the shudders were her own. Her teeth clenched in response until her jaw ached from the tension.
"I found out where he was living and went to see him. He let me in, delighted about the visit, as if nothing had ever happened. As if we had seen each other only the day before and not thirty years ago. I stood looking at him and the only thought that I had was that he didnít look like a monster at all." She gave a bitter laugh. "All these years, I had an image in my mind of him as a monster. It shocked me that I could stand in that hotel room that day watching him be all smiles and full of charm, and know that I hated him but no longer feared him. Thatís when I knew that I was over it, over the fear of him." She stood up to pace, a habit similar to her sisterís that went unnoticed by the other two women.
Jamie straightened and glanced once toward Alex who stood staring at Emma eyes narrowed, face unreadable. Jamie could not tell what she was thinking and it unnerved her. Jamie turned her attention back to her sister, dreading the next question.
"Then what happened?"
Emma stopped pacing. "I told him I knew he had been at the school. I warned him to stay away from her or I would kill him." She looked at her sister, eyes fiery. "I turned and left. As I was closing the door, I heard him groan, almost like a choking sound, and heard a thud as if he had fallen, but I didnít turn around to look. I didnít care." She looked over at Alex and their eyes held. "When I heard he had died, I was relieved that someone else did it. Iím glad he is dead."
"Oh, Emma, why didnít you tell me this before?" Jamie asked with a defeated sigh.
Emma shook her head, pushing a trembling hand through her blond hair. The gesture was so like Jamieís that the poignancy of it was not loss on Alex. "I donít know. I guess I was afraid of this..." She waved at the two of them. Alex watched them and felt their pain batter at her.
"Do I have to go to the station to give my statement and be questioned?" Emma asked.
Alex sighed as her love and loyalty for Jamie once again came face to face with her responsibility and duty. "No. Nothing said here today is relevant to the case." It was a lie and Jamie knew it. Their eyes met and Alex looked suddenly defeated by the demands love brought. Jamieís eyes filled at the gesture, knowing that their friendship would never be the same again. As she turned to leave, Alex recognized the same thing.
TWO MONTHS LATER
It took six rings of the phone to reach a corner of her sleeping brain. By the eighth, she managed to slide a hand out from under her blankets. She smacked the alarm clock first, but the noise persisted. With a groan, she reached out and grabbed the offending instrument.
"íLo."
"Good morning!" The voice was annoyingly cheerful in the stillness of the morning.
Jamie groaned again. "I will hate you forever."
"Promises, promises," her sister Emma laughed.
"What time is it?"
"Six oíclock."
"Six oíÖare you crazy?" Jamie tried to open her eyes but the brightness coming from the uncovered window was too painful for her and she closed them again.
"Mom just dropped in for a coffee. She made me do it."
"No sane person just drops in at six oíclock." Jamie could hear her mother talking in the background.
"WellÖthis is Mom weíre talking about. Weíve always debated the sanity theory. She wants to come up for a visit today."
"Where?"
"There."
Jamie rubbed her forehead in pain. "Oh no, she doesnít."
"I suppose you could try this denial thing, but you know that wonít work."
Emmaís voice was amused. Their mother was like a bulldog when she made up her mind about something. They had learned to live with it. Jamie sat up, the sheet falling to her bare waist. She immediately wanted to lie down. "Emma, I just moved in," Jamie protested weakly. "Iím living in the middle of chaos. And I still havenít recovered from her last visit."
"Who ever does?"
Jamie sighed, knowing she had lost the battle before it ever began.
"If it helps any, Iíll be driving her," her sister added.
"It will only help if you promise to lose her at a gas station on the way." She smiled as she heard her sisterís soft chuckle. There was a pause.
"Oh, she wants to talk to you."
"No! Donít you dare put herÖ Hi, Mom!" This as she heard her motherís hello.
"How are you, dear?"
"As well as can be expected at six oíclock in the morning," she replied dryly.
"Oh! Were you sleeping?" She sounded incredulous, didnít wait for an answer. "Are you settling in okay?"
"I just moved in yesterday. I justÖ"
"Yes, well donít you worry," her mother interrupted. "Your sister and I will be over to help out."
"You donít have to, Mom," Jamie tried hopefully.
"Nonsense. Of course we do. Do you need anything?"
Peace and quiet would be a nice start, Jamie thought, swinging her long legs to the floor. "No. Iím fine."
Jamie said her goodbyes and hung up. Frustrated, she wanted to scream but didnít dare. How many drinks did I have last night? She tested the strength in her legs as she stood up. Not bad. First a shower, then a strong cup of coffee. That seemed like a good plan of attack. Of course, another three or four hours of sleep would be better. That, and a new head to replace the one pounding atop her shoulders. She slowly made her way to the bathroom. Walking wasnít as complicated as sheíd first thought. One step in front of the other. Yep, so far so good.
An hour later Jamie felt almost human as she padded barefoot into the kitchen. The key word was "almost". She had run out of hot water, and the scream coming out of the bathroom as the icy spray hit her would have done any horror film proud. To top it off, just as she was turning off the water she had remembered that she had not unpacked any towels and so stood in the bathroom drip-drying and shivering, coming up with new and inventive ways of saying the same invective. Now as she searched through her empty cupboards, the thought hit her: she had not bought coffee. She almost whimpered. People killed for far less.
An hour later, sipping a cup of coffee from the neighborhood Starbucks, she sat on the top step of the wraparound porch, long legs stretched in front of her as she savored her first morning at her new house. She watched a cardinal sweep by and perch itself on a low branch of the magnolia tree that bloomed on her front lawn, and a delighted grin crossed her face. She would need a bird feeder to attract more birds, she thought, starting to make a mental list of things she wanted to do. The porch would require a new coat of paint; the lawn needed tending. Then another bird joined the chorus, and the mental list stopped. There was something magical and soothing about the chirping of birds, their individual song the only sound that broke the stillness of the morning slowly waking around her. Are they singing to each other, to themselves, or just to be heard? she wondered happily as she took another sip of her coffee. In the distance, the sharp, hopeful barking of a dog brought a satisfied smile to her face as she felt the warmth of the early sun touch her face.
This move had been a good decision. Here she could recover, forget what had happened, start anew. After confronting her sister about their fatherís death she had taken a leave of absence, uninterested or more to the point emotionally unable to be part of that case any longer. Afraid of what the truth might be, she didnít want to know who killed him. If she was brutally honest, she would admit that part of her did not want to find out that it was Shane who had done it after all. Being intimate with her fatherís killer would be too absurd, even for her. She left it up to Alex to continue the investigation, though she knew she was running away. And for that she knew Alex would not readily forgive her. She had knowingly breached her ethics, but more importantly had asked the same of her best friend. And obstructed justice, all for the sake of one night of passion. That, more than anything, had caused her to doubt her dedication and effectiveness as a police officer. She needed time to figure out who she was and what she wanted to do with her life. She sighed, troubled by her thoughts.
She recognized the car as it turned onto her street, and released a deep breath. There they were. One cup of coffee was not enough to survive her motherís visit when she was so clearly on a mission.
Her sister waved as she got out of the car, so identical to Jamie in nearly every way that it always jolted Jamie to look at that mirror image of herself. Jamie grinned at her. She wore the familiar pinched look of suffering that an hour in the car with their mother always brought. Then Jamieís attention was captured by the form jumping in the back seat. It came flying out of the car, and Jamieís eyes widened at the ugliest dog she had ever seen. At least she thought it was a dog.
"What the hell is that?" she asked in horror. All she could see was a lot of brown and gray fur flying around.
"Surprise!" her mother laughed, delighted.
"What?"
The dog turned and came charging at her. Jamie instinctively took a step back, but the dog sat down at her feet with a thud that raised a cloud of dust, then pushed his wet nose into her hand by way of introduction. She pulled her hand away but not quickly enough to avoid the wet, sticky film.
"Uugh. Gross. What is that?"
Her sister peered at her hand. "Looks like drool to me. Must be love at first sight."
"What? NoÖno...no." Jamie looked on in horror as understanding dawned. The dog charged through the opened front door.
"Itís not right that a single woman lives on her own without any kind of protection." Her mother beamed at her. "The people at the pound said he has gone to training school and is a very good guard dog."
"ButÖ" A crash followed by a loud yelp interrupted her. His tail between his legs, the dog came rushing out of the house and hid behind her motherís legs.
Jamie watched him cowering and shook her head. "Yeah, I feel protected already." Her focus shifted to her sister. Emma shrugged, not quite meeting her eyes.
Jamieís eyes narrowed at that. She turned once more to her mother. "Mom, Iím not home enough to take care of a dog. And I have to go to Vegas in a few weeks for a wedding. I canít haveÖ"
"Nonsense. He will be good company for you." And with that, her mother entered the house. She had a way of punctuating her sentences that often included leaving the conversation in the middle as soon as she was done, regardless of whether or not anyone else was finished talking. That always drove Jamie crazy.
"But..." Realizing she was talking to air, Jamie turned to her sister. "You could have warned me."
"What? And miss the look on your face? Never." Her sister kissed her. "Iíve had her for two days; itís your turn. Anyways, James I think you should have a dog, if not for protection, for company."
"I havenít had time to get lonely yet." She hated that she was whining, but the six year old in her always resurfaced around her mother.
"Jamie Jane!" Her mother came out to the porch, her voice carrying across the peaceful morning like nails across a blackboard. "What kind of packing is this? How do you expect to be able to unpack efficiently if everything is labeled ëgeneralí and has been thrown in one room? What happened to the color-coded labels and the index? Havenít I taught you girls anything?" Not bothering to wait for a response, she went back inside, shaking her head.
Jamie turned to her sister. "Couldnít find one little gas station? I ask you for one lousy favorÖ"
Her sister grinned at her. "She wouldnít let me stop."
As Emma went in search of the rampaging dog inside, Jamie rested her forehead against the closed door. She was being punished, she knew, for all of her sins real and imagined. "I should have moved to Canada," she said aloud.
Her mother poked her head out of the kitchen. "What was that, dear?"
"Nothing, Mom." The loud crash coming from upstairs had her leaning weakly against the door. Under the circumstances, she was certain that the courts would be lenient. Still, it was a good thing that all her sharp objects were still packed.
CHAPTER TWENTY
"Darcy, I need a huge favor," Jamie said as soon as she was through the door of the cafÈ.
The tall, auburn-haired beauty behind the bar threw a glance over her shoulder. "Shoot."
"I need you to look after something for me until Iím back from Las Vegas."
"Sure. What is it?" Distracted, Darcy continued to check her bottle inventory behind the dark polished oak bar.
"Itís in the car; Iíll go get it." Jamie hesitated, then seeing that Darcy had turned her attention back to her work, left to retrieve it.
Darcyís back was to the door as Jamie returned, and at the unfamiliar clicking noise, she turned. The look on her face was almost comical. She glared down at the floor. "What the fuck is that?"
"It."
Realization dawned on her face. "What? No. No fucking way."
"You said yes."
"I thought you wanted me to take care of a plant."
"Come on, Darcy. It will only be for two days. He is gentle and fully trained and very obedient." Jamie felt just a twinge of guilt at the little white lies, but she was desperate. Darcy was the only one she could think of that had enough space to take care of him.
"I donít care. I donít do dogs." Frowning at Jamie, Darcy crossed her arms, the look on her face fierce. It never had any effect on Jamie. Darcy looked down at the dog beside Jamie and repressed a shudder. "No."
"You owe me."
"Howíd you figure that?
Jamie couldnít fabricate a reason, so she just grinned. It had been worth a shot. "I donít have anybody else that can do this. Please, Darcy." She kissed her on the cheek. "I promise I wonít tell anyone what a pushover you are."
She smiled and Darcy found herself unable to resist the smile. Damn, itís that smile that always gets to me. Her mouth curved. "Swear?"
"Cross my heart."
Darcy sighed heavily. "Does it have a name?"
"Monster."
"Figures." Darcy shook her head in disgust as she looked at the dog again.
Two days. How bad could it be?
Three hours later, only sheer will stopped Darcy from killing the dog. Two overturned plants, a smashed three hundred dollar bottle of champagne, a ripped sofa cushion and a chewed sneaker later, she locked him upstairs in the apartment she kept above the restaurant, and for a few minutes believed that she had found a solution. Then her hand froze on the beer tap as a blood curdling sound pierced the soothing jazz. What the hell is that? When the howling started again, she realized that it was the dog.
She tried to ignore it, hoping that no else was hearing him. She winced as he started up again, and this time could not ignore the curious looks cast in her direction. She sighed as she started toward the back. Oh yeah, Jamie is going to pay big time for this. Not just a little. Big. She entered the apartment and marched out to the back room, where he had been left, hearing him whimpering behind the door.
She swung the door open, ready to blast him, but was almost bowled over as he jumped on her and started to lick her face, delighted about his rescue. When she saw that he had relieved himself on her hardwood floor, she lost it. "For Godís sake!"
That set off a whole other wave of peeing, and she sank down on a chair unable to decide what she was going to do next: search for and then kill Jamie, or kill the dog. He sat beside her, tail wagging, happy to have her back. When he pushed his nose into her hand and left it covered in a wet film, she decided he was going to have to go first; she wanted Jamie to suffer.
***
Jamie cautiously entered Murphyís upon her return. "Any trouble?"
Darcy studied her. Was there worry in her tone? A hint of guilt perhaps?
"Trouble? MmmÖ Depends on your definition of trouble, I suppose." She placed a bottle of wine back on a glass shelf. "Trouble would be making sure he is let out at the proper intervals. Maybe trouble would be barking when a stranger approaches. Yeah, that would be trouble." She turned and smiled.
It was the smile that scared Jamie. That slow smile meant danger. Jamie sat down on one of the stools and glanced at her worriedly. "UhÖDarcy?"
Darcy continued to smile. "Yes?"
"How much do I owe you?" She tried a smile.
Darcy saw through her attempts. She waved the smile away. "Donít even bother. This time it wonít work. You owe me so big that I havenít been able to come up with something big enough for repayment. I thought of hunting you down in Vegas, but I couldnít leave the monster behind for fear of what he would do."
Jamie smiled at that and despite herself, Darcy found her mouth twitching in response. She waved toward the back. "Heís upstairs. Go get him before I do succumb and murder him, you, or both."
Jamie went around the bar and wrapped her arms around Darcy startling her. "Thanks."
She turned to go upstairs, leaving Darcy almost missing the contact of her body.
This story is a work of fiction and is not intended to represent any particular individual, alive or dead. This work may not be printed or distributed for profit without the express written permission of the author. Copyright registered with the Library of Congress.