Welcome to Blissville

by Walker, Aimee Nicole

  “Yes, sir,” we both said.

  “According to my contact, CPD’s sting had only been underway for a few days, maybe a week, when Nate received his first threatening email. Whatever illegal operations he might’ve been running in there stopped immediately. The cops were removed after a week or so of no activity. In fact, they were gone by the time he called you.”

  “Okay, so why did Nate think that calling the cops made things worse, as if they were involved?” I asked.

  “I’m only speculating here, because Nate’s not here to confirm or deny,” Captain Reardon said. “My contact said that the detectives assigned to the case tried to squeeze information out of Nate. They made it known that he had been under an investigation and said they would protect him if he gave some names. CPD got the impression that Nate was taking money from someone to allow the illegal sex acts to take place in one of his back rooms. They believed that Nate was a small player in the prostitution ring syndicate. They hoped he would turn on the guy next higher up than him and that guy would do the same until they got to the top. Nate denied the allegations of prostitution and said he didn’t know anything about a syndicate. A few days later, he called the detectives and requested to close his case.”

  “There was approximately two months between the time I met with Nate in his office and the time he was killed. Do we know if the threats were stepped up during that time? Was his home searched?” I asked.

  “There’s a bit of a battle between the Cincinnati Police Department and the Carter County Sheriff’s Department over who should be investigating this homicide. CPD said it’s their case because they said Nate was killed because of the threats that they were still investigating. CCSD said the incident happened in their jurisdiction so it was their case. CPD did search his home and business, but nothing was found. His business partner…”

  “Business partner?” I asked.

  “He had a silent business partner, a Mr. Marlon Bandowe. Mr. Bandowe is a member of a very conservative family and didn’t want his involvement in the gay night club made public. Mr. Bandowe handed over the financial records and the business agreement between them. It turned out that the majority of the money to start the enterprise was provided by Bandowe, I’m talking a seventy-thirty split. Therefore, the profits were split by the same percentages. Nate’s thirty percent was a decent chunk of money, but not enough to account for his lifestyle.”

  “Do they think he was skimming off the top from whoever was running illegal activities?” Adrian asked.

  “He did something to bring their attention down on him and that would be my assumption,” the captain said. “You see, the detectives kept investigating the threats even after he told them not to, so I don’t think there was any improper conduct on their parts. CPD was able to locate the person sending the emails by tracking the IP address. Unfortunately, when they showed up at his apartment to ask questions they found him dead from a gunshot to the head.” Reardon blew out a frustrated breath. “He’d been dead awhile and none of the prints pulled from his apartment led them anywhere.”

  “A dead end,” I said softly.

  “Literally and figuratively,” Adrian said.

  “How does any of this tie to Nate being in our county or Josh getting threatened?” I asked.

  “Honestly, Gabe,” the captain said hesitantly, “you’re the only common denominator in the equation.”

  “Fuck!” I stood in the captain’s office and paced. “Why the hell did Nate have to choose me and what the hell do these people think I know?”

  Adrian rose out of the chair and came to me. “We’ll figure this out, partner.”

  “Look, Gabe,” the captain said, “why don’t you go on home for the rest of the day. Take an extra day to rest.”

  I didn’t want to take the time at first because going home and taking a nap wouldn’t solve the case, but I felt exhaustion and stress weighing me down. I hated the thought of Josh cleaning that mess alone or dealing with the alarm installers because those were both irritations that loving me brought into his life. “You’ll call me if this breaks?”

  The captain assured me that he would and his word was enough for me. I smiled when I saw the vehicles parked behind Josh’s house. Why did I think he would be alone after what he’d gone through the night before? In fact, the more I thought about it, I was surprised they hadn’t showed up sooner.

  I was happy to see that I had been locked out. I called Josh on his phone and he came down to let me in. “I came back to help you clean,” I told him as we headed upstairs. “I should’ve known the cavalry would be here already.”

  When I got upstairs, I saw that Willa was there with Chaz and Meredith. They were scattered through the house, all of them dancing a bit to the music playing as they cleaned off the black dust and smears.

  “You have amazing friends, Sunshine,” I said, hooking my arm around his neck and pulling him close.

  “I have a lot to be grateful for,” Josh replied. “Namely that you get to deal with the alarm guys when they get here in the next hour. If you’re a really good boy I’ll bake you another pie tonight.”

  I put my mouth to his ear, “How good do you want me to be?” I saw the shiver work its way through his body.

  “Don’t be distracting me with your sexiness,” Josh told me. “I do have an errand that I’d like you to run, if you’re willing,” he added.

  “What?”

  “I found the door I like on the home improvement store app. I was hoping that maybe you could order it for me and have it delivered. I don’t mean pay for it,” Josh said, reaching for his wallet.

  “Let me do this for you. It’s the least I can do.” I saw the argument in his eyes and knew he wanted to argue.

  “Let him buy you the damn door,” Willa shouted. “Pick your battles, baby.”

  “Fine,” Josh said with a huff. Then a smile worked its way across his face as he dug out his keys from his pocket. “One more thing,” he said, then bit his lip nervously. “Will you make a copy of these two keys?” They were the keys to both doors downstairs. “For yourself.”

  I knew he wasn’t asking me to move in and that his suggestion was more for convenience than anything, but it made me deliriously happy. “I can do that.”

  Not that I wanted it to become a habit, but trying to kill me, bringing me in for questioning, or threatening to kill me was great for my business. I had the ladies lining up for days in the guise of buying products in the hopes of finding out the juicy details of my late-night visit from Blissville’s finest–well, the police department. My late-late-night activities with Blissville’s finest, my Gabe, was going to stay private.

  “I’m starting to see a trend here,” Meredith said one night after the salon closed. “This keeps up you might want to stock up on some extra inventory. Hell, you might even want to rent a storage unit to keep it in.”

  “Girl, you know it.”

  “Not that I want you to get threatened or hurt, it’s just you might as well make a little profit out of the madness.”

  Some might think it was wrong of me to capitalize on the town’s curiosity, but I thought they were wrong for being nosey. Besides, I wasn’t the only one to make some cash off the townsfolk. I sold out of every single item that Marabeth made specifically for me. It was so exciting to call her and let her know that I sold completely out of the Jazz’s Spice-N-Sass line she had created for my salon. Better yet, were the people who came in a few days after their first purchase looking to buy items in the line they passed over on their first visit. It was an arrangement that benefited both Marabeth and me very well.

  The changes Gabe insisted on were a bit of a nuisance at first, but I adapted. It was doubtful I would confess just how much I liked the ornately carved door at the bottom of the staircase that led to my home though. I liked having some kind of advantage over Gabe. I thought it would make the sitting area looked closed in, but the fancy-ass door I chose looked like it had been there since the home was bui
lt. I’m not sure how Gabe did it, but the door was delivered and installed in two days, which was unheard of in my neck of the woods.

  The biggest change, and also my favorite, was Gabe having a key to let himself into my house anytime he wanted. I didn’t miss the reference he made to my house as “home,” but I couldn’t be sure if it was a slip of the tongue or he genuinely thought of my home as his. I loved when Gabe slipped me the tongue, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about the latter.

  As much as I loved and craved his nearness, I worried that it was too soon. Hell, I grew some giant–but never hairy-balls and told the man I was in love with him. That was a huge step for me and all that I was ready for at the moment, but I acknowledged that the time for me wanting to take the next step with him was getting nearer every day. Besides, I wanted Gabe by my side because he wanted to be there, not because he thought it was necessary. That wasn’t very romantic, and I’d call anyone a liar if they accused me of it, but I was starting to get pretty sappy when it came to Gabe.

  I even went so far as to put an aqua blue streak in the front of my hair to match the pair of underwear that he favored the most. Not only did he like the colored streaks I sometimes wore in my hair, but he’d be reminded of how much he liked taking those sexy little undies off of me. It was no coincidence that I was wearing the exact pair of briefs when Gabe saw the streak for the first time.

  “I like it,” Gabe said, running his hand through my hair. “It’s the same color as those Andrew Christians I like so much.”

  “Really?” I unbuttoned my jeans and opened the fly to reveal the bright color I wore beneath. “Hmm. I guess you’re right.” My little stunt had the desired effect and we were much later getting to the diner to eat than originally planned.

  I learned that as high maintenance as I was, compromising and adjusting actually came easy to me. Gabe was extremely easy to please and very cooperative, but I had to remind myself not to take advantage of his pleaser personality. Perhaps I overcompensated too much, because I drew Gabe’s ire when I ordered pizza without any mushrooms.

  “For fuck’s sake, Josh,” he exclaimed when the pizza arrived mushroomless. “I never said anything about the mushrooms to my mom because she worked hard and they were easy to pick off. There was no deeply-rooted motivation for it like she thinks. I will not lie and say that I didn’t have issues with being adopted when I was a kid, but the mushrooms were not an example of me trying to avoid getting booted from the family.”

  “If you say so,” I said complacently, just wanting to eat my pizza in peace by that time. I had to admit it sounded awfully similar to the “yes, dear” my father used on my mother in similar circumstances. Gabe was just as pissed as my mother had been.

  Gabe threw his hands up in frustration. “I made you chicken Marsala and one of the key ingredients is mushrooms.”

  I put my pizza down on my plate and turned to face him. I was New Josh and I didn’t have kneejerk reactions to things like little fights over mushrooms. I took in the pinched and tired expression on Gabe’s face and realized that our little tiff had nothing to do with mushrooms.

  I removed his plate from his hand then set it beside mine. “Gabe,” I said, crawling on his lap. “Maybe you tell me what’s really upsetting you. And don’t tell me it’s about the mushrooms or anything else. I know you’re not really mad that I didn’t put any mushrooms on the pizza.” Even though I knew I was correct, I thought it might not hurt to be so obvious next time. “So, what’s going on with my man today?”

  I slipped my hands in his dark hair and massaged his scalp and, just like that, he melted into the couch and gave up all his secrets. “There’s been no new breaks in either case and Rocky Beaumont is threatening to sue the department if Nadine finds out he’s been sleeping with commissioner Wallace. I don’t know why he thinks we…”

  “Wait a damn minute!” I waited for Gabe to open his eyes and focus them on me. “Are you saying Rocky likes the D?”

  “Um…” I could tell the wheels were spinning as he tried to come up with a way to backtrack or imply I misunderstood.

  “No, nuh huh. I heard exactly what you said.” I dropped my hands from his head to my waist as I sat in disbelief of what he just said. “You never told me?”

  “You know I can’t talk…”

  “…About open cases,” I interrupted again. “Wanda confessed to trying to kill Rocky so his case is closed.” I still couldn’t believe my Sunday school teacher was capable of murder and attempted murder. “Why didn’t you tell me? I know it’s not because you think he’s a swell guy. You practically growl and snarl whenever you see him around town.” Then it felt like a crushing blow to my heart when I realized why he hadn’t told me. “You still don’t trust me,” I whispered softly. I moved to slide off his lap, but he grabbed my hips and held me to him.

  “Not true,” he argued. “I do trust you and I know damn well outing a guy–even someone as vile as Rocky–isn’t something you would do. There is an open case that could involve Rocky and I should never have said anything to you.”

  “What case?” Then I thought about it. “Oh, you mean Georgia’s house getting broken into and ransacked.”

  “Yes, that one. Rocky had a lot to lose if those photos ever came out. Perhaps he did hire someone to look for them while he was safely out of town. It’s doubtful, but I had no business saying what I did. I won’t ask you to keep it quiet because I know that you will.”

  “Damn straight,” I replied, feeling mollified. “You better not let anyone rub your scalp around town because you sing like a damn canary,” I said joking. “Hey, I know,” I said with wide eyes, “maybe the police department can hire me to come in during interrogations and give head massages until the perp confesses.”

  I could feel Gabe’s muscles tightening against my body and it was obvious he was getting jealous thinking about my hands in other men’s hair. “I don’t think so, Josh. I’m the only one who gets scalp massages from now on.”

  “My clients will have a big problem with that, babe. I’m famous for my massages.” The leering grin he gave me said he was remembering the special massage I gave him in my salon. “Not that kind of massage,” I clarified. “That one only belongs to you. I was referring to the massages I give while I shampoo hair.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want to upset the ladies…”

  “And Kyle,” I amended.

  “Excuse me?” Gabe asked angrily.

  “I cut Kyle’s hair too,” I told him. “Sometimes he comes in for a quick dry trim in the morning and other times he wants the shampoo and scalp massage thrown in.”

  “I just be he does,” Gabe snapped.

  “Hey,” I threw up my hands, “it’s not like that. There’s never been a spark of anything there. Wait,” I said as I realized something. “Didn’t you know I cut Kyle’s hair?”

  “No,” Gabe admitted softly. “He never said and I never asked.”

  I thought his lack of knowledge about his ex was kind of sad, but I wasn’t going to bring it up. They were exes for a reason and I was the beneficiary of that fact. Instead, I shifted my mind onto something else that had been on my mind involving Gabe and hair.

  “I don’t suppose you’ll let me cut your hair,” I said to Gabe. His eyes widened and I quickly amended, “Trim. I meant to say trim your hair.” I thought maybe he was trying to grow his hair out, but the spooked expression on his face told me there was a lot more at play. “Oh my, you have tonsurephobia.”

  “You watch your mouth,” Gabe said, but the rapid way he blinked his eyes told me he didn’t have a clue what I was talking about.

  “A fear of getting haircuts,” I told him.

  “That’s a thing?” he asked in disbelief. Or, was it relief?

  “It’s definitely a real thing and I think you have it,” I told him. “Did you have a traumatic experience as a child?” I could tell by the way he bit his lip there was something in his past. “I promise I won’t laugh at you.”


  “Okay,” he said after long moments of searching my face for sincerity. “My mom took me for a haircut at this new place when I was like five or something. It had a carnival theme to it with bright balloons and colors everywhere, sort of like the party your mom threw for me. I was so excited because they had special chairs designed for kids.” Gabe swallowed hard and I bit my lip so not to giggle because he was so damn earnest and cute. “We roll up to that joint on opening day and it was a fucking circus inside and I don’t mean the place was busy, I mean it was packed with clowns.” The hard shiver that worked through Gabe shocked me.

  “I’d never seen a clown before then and I was overcome with this insane fear of them. I passed out cold when one of them came bouncing over in those damn big shoes and reached for me. Next thing I knew, I’m waking up in one of those kiddie barber chairs and see myself in the mirror. I don’t know why, but there was a barber standing behind me with a pair of scissors in his hand. Maybe he came running over when he heard the commotion, but all I knew was that I had blood streaming down the side of my face and he and MoMo the clown were both standing behind me.”

  “Babe, you’re coulrophobic too?” I asked sympathetically.

  Gabe rolled us over suddenly and pinned me beneath him on the couch. “Are you questioning my manhood?” he asked.

  That I couldn’t take seriously and burst into laughter. “It means you’re afraid of clowns,” I told Gabe. “Hell, no wonder you’re afraid of haircuts.” I raised my hand and rubbed my fingers over his brows. “I promise you that I’m not at all scary and I won’t make sudden moves at you with my shears.” My words were spoken tenderly without a hint of humor in them because it wasn’t funny. It broke my heart to imagine a terrified five or six-year-old Gabe.