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Welcome to Blissville

Page 45

by Walker, Aimee Nicole


  “Okay,” Gabe said without hesitation as he pulled up his pants. There was only one time I engaged in anal play with him and that was when I gave him a massage. I never asked about his position preference and dared not allow my brain to conjure up the things he and Kyle got up to when they were together.

  “Oh,” I said softly. Truthfully, I had only ever bottomed before and the idea of topping Gabe intimidated me.

  “Didn’t expect that answer, did you?” Gabe walked to me and cupped my face. “I’d welcome the feel of you inside me, Josh. In fact, I crave it.”

  “Oh.” I wanted him to be happy and if penetration was something he wanted then it was something I’d give.

  “You look panicked,” Gabe said, a tender smile spreading across his face. “I’ll never ask you to do something that makes you feel uncomfortable.”

  “No,” I said hurriedly, “it’s not that. It’s just…” I thought about how I could express what I was feeling without sounding pathetic. “No one has ever wanted me in that way.”

  “I’m not like anyone you’ve ever known before,” Gabe said, causing me to snort.

  “You can say that again.”

  “I’m not like anyone you’ve ever know before,” he repeated.

  “Thank God for that,” I said, wrapping my arms around him. “Let’s get cleaned up and we’ll order pizza.”

  “Don’t you dare leave the mushrooms off,” Gabe warned.

  “Triple mushrooms,” I declared, walking ahead of him.

  Thirty minutes later we were cuddled on the couch eating pizza and watching the next biggest sporting thing on television. There was always some kind of major sporting event going on. “Tell me again about this big, exciting event that’s coming up,” I told him. “March Mania or something?”

  “March Madness.” Gabe looked at me like I had seven heads. “Right now it’s conference tournaments, but March Madness is right around the corner.”

  “Oh boy,” I said, dryly. I decided I would need a television in the bedroom once Gabe moved in.

  Once, not if. Once. Joshy boy was growing up. My eyes must’ve widened because Gabe looked at me worriedly.

  “What’s the matter? Did you remember something important you wanted to watch?” he asked.

  “No,” I said. “I was just remembering our abrupt conversation earlier and wanted to know why you asked about the shears.” That wasn’t really what I had been thinking, but it must’ve seemed reasonable to Gabe.

  Gabe told me everything that he could, which wasn’t much at all. I just knew Billy confessed to stalking and harassing us and he’d been arrested by the DEA for serious drug charges. Those were things that the police would release to the paper so I was just learning them a few hours early. Gabe shocked the fuck out of me when he finally got around to answering my question.

  “Mine? Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Adrian and Captain Reardon looked at the scissors and they definitely have your name engraved on them. They’re identical to the ones used to kill Georgia, but they’re a little shorter.”

  “Fuck me!”

  “I’m chest-thumping proud you think I could go another round after what we just did, but I’m out, Sunshine.” He tapped the armrest on the couch. “I gave you everything I had.” Lord, Gabe had been hanging around me too much, but I sure as hell wasn’t complaining and I definitely didn’t want to change it.

  “What the hell was he doing with the shears I gave Georgia?”

  “Well, I think he was truly obsessed with you and kept them as a souvenir when he found them while ransacking Georgia’s mansion,” Gabe told me.

  The idea that Billy was somehow obsessed with me was something I just couldn’t wrap my head around, even though the evidence supported the theory. “Why Georgia’s house? What was he looking for?”

  “Our theory is that Rocky and Jack weren’t the only ones Georgia had pictures of and was attempting to blackmail.” Gabe rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and let out a deep sigh. “Guessing is one thing and proving it is another.”

  I sat quietly thinking about what Gabe said. Georgia had been my friend and I truly missed her, but I was learning things about her that I never suspected. When had that part of Georgia’s life started and why? Was she bored? Did she want to hurt others like she’d been hurt? A misery loves company type of thing?

  I thought back to the conversations we’d had during the last year of her life and nothing about her blackmailing attempts slipped out, not a hint of anything sinister stuck out in my mind. “The only thing that I can even think of that ties Georgia to the Sampsons is Georgia’s failed run at being elected to the school board. This dates back a while, but she was convinced that Delaney Sampson sabotaged her because she caught her husband checking Georgia out during a board meeting. Delaney was best friends with the woman that Rocky dumped so he could chase after Georgia. Delaney didn’t want to find herself in the same boat,” I told Gabe.

  “So you think that Georgia was looking for dirt on Delaney and discovered what Billy was up to?” Gabe asked. He nodded his head after he thought it over. “Nothing surprises me around here.”

  “I did,” I reminded him.

  “You were the best kind of surprise there is, Sunshine.”

  After the game was over, Gabe made no mention of returning to his home and I sure as hell wasn’t bringing it up. I snuggled back into his spoon and was grateful to be in his arms, whether it be for a night or… forever.

  For the first times since I moved to Blissville, I was partnered with someone who wasn’t Adrian. The captain split us up so that I worked on Nate Turner’s case while Adrian looked into all things related to Billy Sampson. Even though the Feds took him off our hands, we had to know if anyone else in our county was involved with the drugs. The Feds were looking to move up the chain of command and wouldn’t focus too intently on local connections unless it meant they were a bigger fish to fry than Billy.

  To do that, Adrian would need to dig deep into Billy’s background and find out what he’d been up to while living in Texas those past ten, or so, years before moving back to Blissville. I told him what Josh had said about Georgia’s past fights with Delaney and neither of us were blowing it off because we had both learned the hard way not to underestimate the ladies–at any age.

  It sucked to miss out on the interviews with the people who knew Billy best, but I couldn’t take the risk that my involvement would give Billy a Get out of Jail Free card. I knew that Adrian would keep me informed every step of the way, just as I would tell him all about what I learned in my case. I already missed working with Adrian and we hadn’t even parted ways yet.

  “I hope CPD doesn’t give you guys any hassle,” Adrian said. “I hope Sheriff Tucker isn’t sending us lame temporary partners either. I can’t get stuck with someone who sucks his teeth or something.” It was good to know I wasn’t the only one dreading the temporary reassignments, even though we knew they were necessary.

  “We’re not too lame,” said a voice from behind us.

  Adrian and I slowly turned away from where we’d been standing by the coffee pot and faced the two men in suits that were standing behind us. One looked amused while the other looked annoyed. I’d never tell Adrian this, but I sent up a silent prayer that Adrian got stuck with Detective Sourpuss. I mean, I had to ride in the car with my new partner for almost an hour to get to Cincinnati. I knew in my heart that Adrian would understand, although I had no plans to confess.

  “We’re stealthy though,” Detective Smiley said. He reached a hand toward me because, hey, I wasn’t the one caught saying something embarrassing. Thinking it to myself didn’t count. “I’m John Dorchester. I don’t suck my teeth, fart or scratch my balls in public, and I can be trusted off the leash.” Okay, I really preferred to work with this guy.

  “I’m Gabe Wyatt,” I told him.

  “It’s your lucky day, Detective Wyatt,” he replied. “I’m,” he pointed at his chest with both thumbs, “your
new partner.”

  I could’ve clapped in joy, but instead I said, “Temporary partner.”

  “David Whitworth,” Detective Grim said before he sucked obnoxiously on his teeth. He didn’t bother to extend his hand and neither did Adrian.

  “Adrian Goode,” my partner said flatly. I was grateful that Adrian didn’t try to one-up him by scratching his nuts or farting. “Does that mean you can’t be trusted off the leash or that you like it on the leash?” Adrian asked his new partner. I knew he wasn’t going to let that comment pass.

  “Neither,” Whitworth deadpanned.

  “Well,” Dorchester said, “I think it’s time for us to get moving.”

  “One minute,” I told him. I tipped my head for Adrian to follow me out of earshot. Once he did, I said, “Don’t let this guy drag you down…” I paused when Adrian’s phone chimed with an incoming text.

  Adrian chuckled when he read the message and typed out a quick response then put his phone in his pocket before he turned his attention back to me. “Don’t you worry about me, partner. You’re going to have your own uphill battle.”

  I thought about Dorchester’s personality and was confused about what Adrian was referring to. I had assumed that he had received a text from his wife, but maybe it was something concerning my new partner. “What’s wrong with Dorchester? He seems fine to me.”

  “He is fine, which is exactly what I told Josh when he texted me just now wanting to know if your new partner is cute.” Adrian laughed hard at my wide-eyed expression.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re going to start trouble between me and my guy because you got the jerk for a partner?” I whispered angrily.

  “I heard that subtle sigh of relief when you realized you got the good one,” Adrian whispered angrily back. “Just for that, I’m not naming my baby after you.”

  “You’ve already said that,” I reminded him.

  “Well, now it’s for sure.”

  “You can’t blame me for being relieved. I have to ride all the way to Cinci and back with my partner. Forgive me if I don’t want to be stuck with a dud,” I told Adrian. “You’d feel the same way.” Being stuck in a car with someone was an intimate experience, not the same as sharing a bed, but you were trapped in a small space with them with very little in the way of entertainment to distract you if they were horrible to be around. My phone chimed in my pocket with an incoming text and Adrian and I both knew who it was from. “You’re an asshole, Adrian.”

  I couldn’t keep the smile off of my face as I read Josh’s message. Behave! Don’t make me piss on your leg before you leave the house each morning. Love you!

  He wouldn’t have a moment’s doubt if he fully accepted how crazy in love I was with him. He knew I loved him, but I doubt he grasped the depth of it. Hell, I was still coming to terms with it. The text I sent back was short and sincere. No one can replace my Sunshine. Love you more!

  Adrian and I exchanged a bro-hug and went our separate ways, but I knew I’d be texting or speaking to him throughout the day. I wondered if we were going to have a debate as to who drove, but it was solved pretty quickly when he saw my Charger in the parking lot.

  “You drive your own vehicle?” he asked once we hit the road.

  “Yeah, but I get compensated for mileage, oil changes, and tire rotations,” I replied. “I typically don’t rack up a lot of mileage under normal circumstances.”

  “Yeah, these are anything but normal,” he commented. “I was sorry to hear that Sampson was harassing you and your boyfriend.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I told him, but something in his voice told me that he felt that way.

  “I should’ve gone to the sheriff when I heard him making homophobic comments about you after Nate was found dead,” Dorchester said. “I’m sorry if my silence aided him in making things more difficult for you guys.”

  Billy didn’t harass us because we were gay, he did it because he wanted to cause trouble between Josh and me so he could step back into Josh’s life. I wasn’t going to say that to him though. Although the truth would most likely filter out into the community, it wasn’t going to be through my lips.

  “I appreciate your apology, Dorchester, but it’s not necessary,” I told him.

  We spent the rest of the trip talking about the upcoming March Madness tournament, which reminded me of the scornful look on Josh’s face when he realized his television was going to be showing more sports. I could’ve gone home to watch basketball the other night after my punishment, but I wasn’t really too eager to return to my empty house nor did he seem eager for me to leave. It was a conversation that we needed to have, but I was hesitant to bring it up. I wasn’t sure how well my heart would handle hearing that Josh didn’t want to be with me as much as I wanted to be with him.

  My first impression of Detectives Weston Jade and Carl Harris was that they seemed like upstanding guys that were willing to work with us, but I had been fooled in the past by a Good Ole Boy routine. IA had cleared them, as well as me, of having acted improperly in regards to Nate Turner’s investigation and death so I was giving them the same benefit of the doubt that I hoped they were giving me.

  The four of us gathered around a table in a conference room to go over the case. Jade passed out blue file folders containing the interview notes and photos of evidence from all the agencies involved. “Has there been any evidence or rumors that Nate Turner was involved in trafficking or distributing drugs?” I asked.

  “Oddly, no,” Harris said. “We’d sent undercover cops into his club plenty of times and there was never any sign of dealing or trafficking out of that establishment.”

  “We’ve asked Detectives Seviere and Drake to join us in case you have questions about the undercover investigations they ran. They should be here any minute,” Jade said.

  I continued to look through their notes while we waited. “What about the silent partner, Marlon Bandowe?” I asked. “What were your impressions on him?” I noted there wasn’t much written about the man in the notes, which could mean that he just didn’t leave much of an impression or these guys weren’t as thorough as I would’ve preferred.

  “Truthfully,” Jade replied, “he was just kind of there. He appeared wholesome and… boring.” He shrugged indifferently.

  “Sort of nondescript,” added Harris. “Medium height, medium brown hair, average blue eyes. There was nothing out of the ordinary about him.”

  “Except his vehemence about people not knowing he was involved with the club. He kept saying that he had only fronted the startup money and wasn’t involved in the operation of the business,” Jade added.

  “Do you think he felt strongly enough about it to kill or hire a killer?” Dorchester asked. “It seemed to me that Nate’s killing was very personal and it didn’t seem like he was the type to build personal relationships. If he wasn’t running drugs or prostitution, then why was he being threatened? Better yet, why avoid the police if he had nothing to hide?”

  “All things we ask ourselves daily,” Jade admitted. “There are no solid clues to anyone.”

  “What about his family background?” I asked.

  “Well, he was the only child of Charles and Marie Turner. They’re both deceased.”

  “Adopted child,” Harris added. “The Turners were already in their late forties or early fifties when Nate was adopted. They were fairly well off and Nate enjoyed a privileged country club and private school life.”

  “So that explains why his home and personal belongings speak of a larger income than what he earned from the night club,” Dorchester commented.

  “Yes, he inherited quite a bit of money from his folks when they passed,” Jade answered.

  “Did they die at the same time?” I asked the detectives.

  “No,” Harris said then flipped to the page that had the notes about the parents. “Mrs. Turner died of lung cancer in May of 1999 and Mr. Turner died from a heart attack five months later. An online story I found on the coup
le indicated that he died from a broken heart.” So Nate didn’t kill his parents for money, he wasn’t peddling drugs from the club, nor was he involved in prostitution. What was he into then? Someone obviously wanted him dead for reasons he didn’t want disclosed. Why?

  There was a knock on the door and two people walked in. First, was a tall redheaded woman and behind her was a man I recognized, even if it had been a year since I last saw him. I swallowed hard when his eyes lit with recognition also. I chewed the inside of my cheek and hoped that working with him wouldn’t be awkward.

  “Detectives Allyson Drake and Paul Seviere,” Jade said in introduction, “meet Detectives Winchester and Wyatt.”

  “Dorchester,” John corrected. “Winchesters are the dudes who hunt demons and stuff on a television show. I’m not nearly as cool or bad ass.”

  “Sorry about that,” Jade said. I wasn’t sure if we was apologizing for the mistake that he made or because Dorchester wasn’t as cool or bad ass as the Winchesters.

  Drake and Seviere came over and shook both our hands. Nothing was said between Paul–now that I knew his name–and me. What was to discuss really? We hooked up at a hotel near Vibe one Saturday night a year ago and never saw each other again.

  “It’s good to meet you,” was exchanged between the four of us and everyone took a seat.

  “Detective Wyatt was someone that Nate Turner reached out to when the threats started arriving via email,” Harris said. I listened to him explain to the new arrivals the events that took place between my meeting with Turner and him being killed in my county.

  “So you think he was coming to find you?” Detective Drake asked.

  “That was the original theory,” I replied then told them about the drug bust and Billy Sampson’s arrest. “Was there any serious rumors or hints that he was moving drugs out of the club? We’re just trying to see if the two cases are tied together somehow.” The more information I heard about Nate made me think that they were two separate incidents. As much as we wanted to tie everything up with a Billy Sampson bow, we just couldn’t.

 

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