by Robbi McCoy
Stef realized it was Jackie in the photo she’d seen on the bulletin board at the bait shop, the little girl proudly holding a line with two fish hooked.
“That’s a cute story,” Stef said.
“It never happened again in all the years since.”
Jackie smiled warmly at her. She seemed anxious to show and thereby share her world with Stef. To welcome her into it, open-armed and unreserved, like the town itself. The atmosphere Stef had noticed since arriving in Stillwater Bay was one of familiar hospitality. The closest thing she had known to this unambiguous goodwill was from visiting her grandmother when she was little. She’d show up at the back door, uninvited, unexpected and usually disgruntled about something at home or school. Grandma Mattie’s face would light up like she’d opened the door to Ed McMahon delivering a check from Publisher’s Clearing House. “Oh, look at my little sweetheart! Soaking wet and grouchy to boot. You look like a half-drowned cat. Take off those muddy shoes and come on into the kitchen. I’m going to slice you a big old piece of chocolate cake!”
That was always her solution to Stef’s troubles. A bowl of ice cream or blackberry cobbler or chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk. Grandma Mattie served up love and dessert. And that was normally all that was needed. And all that was wanted. By the time that piece of cake was half eaten, they’d be sitting at the kitchen table laughing together over some funny story, all childhood misery forgotten.
Grandma Mattie had died when Stef was twelve and she’d never known such unquestioning warmth since. She had no doubt her mother loved her, but her mother’s affection was understandably diffused with worry and pragmatism and was never totally unreserved like her grandmother’s had been.
Not everyone in Stillwater Bay was open and friendly, but most of them were. They didn’t seem to care who she was or what she’d done before. They automatically liked her, trusted her and accepted her with a kind of general belief that the world would do them no harm. Jackie was a product of that environment. Stef wondered if her invitation could possibly be as straightforward as it felt. Jackie would be so easy to escape into.
A flock of ducks flew overhead, quacking raucously on their way to their evening roost. A little black mud hen swam out of a clump of tules into their clearing, saw them, and abruptly spun about and hurried away. This was the scenery Stef had pledged herself to for the foreseeable future. How could this not bring her peace?
“It’s hot,” Jackie said, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead. “Do you know how to swim?”
“Sure. I’m guessing you learned by jumping in a river. I had swimming lessons.”
“You’d be right about that.” Jackie flashed a devious smile.
Without warning, she leapt to her feet and tore off her shirt, then shimmied out of her shorts and ran into the water in her underwear. She swam twenty feet out where she stayed, treading water, grinning a challenge. She wants to play, Stef thought with an unexpected sense of lightheartedness. She removed her watch and hat, laying them on the sandy shore, then rapidly stripped to her own underwear and jumped in. The cold slapped her, but as she swam out, the shock rapidly dissipated and it felt good.
Before she could reach Jackie, she swam away laughing. Stef gave chase, knowing she wanted to be caught, and a few minutes into this game, she got hold of Jackie’s ankle and climbed up the length of her until she could lock one arm around her waist. Jackie screamed and giggled, her voice echoing across the water. She pushed with both hands against Stef’s shoulders as they splashed through their mock struggle, but Stef held fast. She heard her own laugh like a foreign language she could barely comprehend. Before yesterday, it had been months since she’d heard this particular laugh, carefree and unrestrained.
With Jackie still trying to wriggle free, Stef pulled her closer and placed a couple of light kisses on her mouth. Jackie quieted and let herself be kissed properly as they drifted together, gently kicking to stay afloat. Still kissing, Stef stroked powerfully with her legs to move them closer to shore until she could feel the muddy bottom beneath her. She stood in water up to her shoulders, encircling Jackie in her arms and kissing her deeper, tasting again the sweet, soft warmth of Jackie’s uninhibited desire.
The bare skin of her back and stomach felt velvety smooth in the water. Jackie wrapped her legs around Stef’s waist, anchoring her nearly weightless body close. Stef ran her hands over Jackie’s back, then around to the front where she caressed her through the lacy material of her bra. Jackie’s murmur of pleasure verified she wanted to be touched like that so Stef squeezed harder and kissed Jackie deeper, tasting her eager mouth and tongue with growing urgency.
Stef’s senses were soon overwhelmed with Jackie’s body. She closed her eyes. There was nothing but Jackie. She no longer felt the water they were standing in. There was just Jackie’s skin and arms and exploring mouth, so anxious and generous, and the delicate, distinctive aroma of anise wafting past them on the breeze.
Gradually, a foreign sound reached her ears. It wasn’t a cow lowing or a bird singing or the soft moans of a woman whose body wanted desperately to give itself to her. It was unnatural and unwelcome. She released Jackie’s mouth and looked down the length of the slough to see a motorboat heading their way. On it were two men and two women in swimming suits, talking and laughing. Their voices rose and fell on the air currents as they sped past.
Stef noticed it was getting dark. The sun had gone down and the sky was orange and purple on the western horizon. The moon had moved higher in the sky and shone brightly down on them. Waves from the passing boat splashed over their skin and Stef shivered, suddenly realizing she was cold.
“Come on,” Jackie said, taking Stef’s hand. “Let’s pull in our trap and go back.”
The trap contained three crawdads, two adults and one juvenile. Jackie lifted the largest one out between thumb and forefinger, careful to avoid the pinchers. After seeing something akin to affection in her face as she regarded the creature, Stef agreed to release them back into their habitat. With towels from the truck, they dried off their hair, then sat on the towels on the way back to town, underwear soaking through their shorts.
As she drove, Jackie frequently glanced Stef’s way and smiled. Stef still had reservations about Jackie. She was a beautiful young woman and Stef wanted her badly. But she also seemed so pure of heart and Stef was worried about what Jackie wanted from her. Whatever it was, it was likely more than Stef was prepared to give.
“Do you want to go to dinner or something?” Jackie asked as they reached town. “Our Cajun place isn’t bad. A little seafood étouffée or jambalaya?”
“I can’t see myself going out to eat like this,” Stef laughed, indicating her wet shorts. “It seems like every time I go anywhere with you, I end up all wet.”
Jackie raised her eyebrows, then lowered her voice and said, “I’d say that was a good sign.”
Stef snorted in appreciation.
“I have a better idea,” Jackie said. “Let’s pick up some eggs at the Quickie-Mart, and I’ll cook you my famous mushroom and broccolini frittata.”
Stef chuckled quietly. “Sounds…terrific.”
After parking in front of the convenience store, Jackie leaned across the seat and kissed Stef purposely and suggestively. It was a kiss that promised a lot and there was no mistaking its message. Stef tried to recall how much food was in Deuce’s dish, if he would be okay to be left alone for the night.
When Jackie pulled away, her eyes shone with joyful excitement. Stef couldn’t help leaning over and giving her one more kiss before they got out of the truck.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jackie was ecstatic over this turn of events. Tonight Stef was happy, even talkative. Whatever the reason for her earlier barriers against Jackie, they were down now and Jackie couldn’t wait to take advantage of the warm welcome.
Mona was checking out a customer when they walked in. She waved in their direction. Their clothes were still damp, but no longe
r dripping and no longer clinging in the way that had allowed Jackie a stimulating view earlier of Stef’s taut nipples poking against the fabric of her shirt.
“Do you want anything else?” Jackie asked, pulling a carton of eggs from the refrigerator case. “A bottle of wine, maybe?”
“Yeah, let’s get some wine.”
They walked to the back aisle where the liquor was kept as the customer up front left the building.
“Red or white?” Jackie asked.
“You’re the chef.” Stef smiled in that way she had, semi-reluctantly, her lips curling up on the left side.
Jackie had a feeling she wasn’t going to be making dinner tonight, despite these preparations. Once she got Stef home, she anticipated a hot rush to get naked. That anticipation made her light-headed. After their leisurely kissing session, she couldn’t wait to resume touching Stef. Her nerves were on edge with the thought of it. From the first time she saw her, this woman had lit her curiosity and awakened her sexual appetite. Standing next to her in the wine aisle, she moved closer so their hips touched and felt the shock wave flash through her body. It had been a long time since anything like this had happened to Jackie and she relished it.
She reached for a bottle of chardonnay as the bell on the door tinkled, signaling somebody coming into the store. She held the chardonnay up for Stef’s approval as a ruckus from the front of the store drew their attention. Mona screamed. A man’s voice rang out a muffled threat. Jackie dropped the egg carton, sending egg shells and yolk splattering all around her feet. Stef immediately bolted toward the trouble. Jackie stood where she was for a split second, too startled to move, then followed, coming around a product display to see two men in ski masks, one of them pointing a gun at Mona. Her hands were raised above her head. The gunman swung toward Stef and yelled, “Stop! Hands on your head!”
Stef skidded to a stop and immediately obeyed him, locking her fingers together on top of her head.
“You too!” the man commanded at the sight of Jackie. “Anybody else back there?”
“Nobody else,” Stef said evenly. “Just take it easy. Tell us what you want. You have our full cooperation.”
The man, who was short and stocky, chuckled tersely, then pointed the gun back at Mona. “You! Open the cash drawer. Then get over there with them.”
Mona did as she was told. The three women stood in a row at the side of the store while the second robber went behind the checkstand to take the money. When he’d put it all in a bag, he grabbed two cartons of cigarettes and moved out from behind the counter.
Jackie felt her legs trembling. She realized she was terrified. Stef seemed oddly at ease and moved closer to her so their bodies were touching, offering her some subtle comfort.
The two men backed out of the store. When they hit the doorway, they turned and ran. Stef rushed to the door and watched them go, then she came back in. Mona had sunk to the floor, where she sat with her face in her hands. Jackie knelt beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.
“It’s okay,” she said. “They’re gone.”
“Do you have a silent alarm?” Stef asked.
“Yes,” answered Mona in an unsteady voice. “I hit it, but it’ll take a while before somebody shows up. Hartley’s been off duty since five, so he’ll have to come from home, which is over by Walnut Grove.”
“These guys have hit up and down Main Street,” Jackie explained. “After five, the place is wide open. They know they’ve got easy targets here.”
“This has never happened before,” Mona said, still sitting on the floor. “This town never used to have crime. Now all of a sudden, it’s a freaking crime wave.”
“It’s the same guys,” Jackie said. “That’s what my dad thinks. Two young guys. Black ski masks. They take money, booze and cigarettes.”
“How many times have they struck?” Stef asked.
“Three times before.”
While they waited, Stef remained thoroughly serious and aloof. The playful woman who’d appeared earlier in the evening had retreated again. Jackie thought she even detected a little irritation when she tried to talk to Stef, hoping to jostle her into a more lighthearted mood.
By the time Don Hartley showed up, Mona was back behind the counter carrying on business. Jackie had cleaned up the eggs and Stef was standing outside, leaning against the wall of the building, eating a piece of Ida’s World-Famous Beef Jerky.
Hartley, sporting a five o’clock shadow, arrived wearing his street clothes, a white T-shirt and jeans. No time to put on a uniform, he explained before taking their statements. His badge drooped from the T-shirt pocket. He talked to Mona first, then Jackie. They both gave a general description of the men, as much as they could considering the ski masks.
“They were both wearing dark pants,” Jackie said. “Navy blue or black. Dark long-sleeved shirts and gloves. They were completely covered.”
Don turned to Stef and asked her the same questions without enthusiasm.
“The gunman was five six,” she reported. “He had a slight limp, left leg. Caucasian. His eyes were pale blue. He was left-handed. The gun was a Beretta nine millimeter semiautomatic.”
Hartley, who had been slouching against the counter, slowly rose to an attentive stand as Stef spoke. He made notes with sudden enthusiasm.
“The other guy was Hispanic.”
“How do you know that?” Hartley asked.
“His voice. Unless he was putting it on. His eyes were brown. He was right-handed. There’s a tattoo on the inside of his right wrist. When he reached for the cigarettes, his sleeve rode up. About six letters, maybe a name. Both of them wore black chinos and black Nike sneakers. The white guy wore a dark gray pullover hoodie. The Hispanic guy’s shirt was dark brown.”
While Stef spoke, Jackie stood listening in amazement. Suddenly Stef was a completely different person, completely professional, devoid of sarcasm or disdain and no hint of emotion, positive or negative. This was the third personality Jackie had observed, all of them totally distinct. When Stef had finished her report, Hartley crooked his index finger at her and led her outside to speak to her privately. Jackie shook her head in frustration.
“She sure notices a lot!” Mona declared. “Even what kind of gun they had. How’d she know that? Is she some kind of gun expert or something?”
Jackie recalled Stef’s earlier claim that she had no interest in guns. “I don’t know,” she said distractedly. “I don’t really know what she is.”
When Hartley returned, he went to talk to Mona. Stef walked over to Jackie and said, “Let’s go.”
“Should I get the eggs?” Jackie asked.
Stef shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t feel much like dinner now. It’s late. I think I’ll just head home.”
Observing Stef’s solemn expression, Jackie realized there was no way to save this evening. On the way to the house, Stef sat in the passenger seat staring out the window. She said nothing and seemed to be in a world of her own. Despite her calm demeanor during the robbery and its aftermath, the incident had obviously disturbed her. That too seemed out of character. Stumbling into the middle of a robbery would be upsetting for most people, but Stef didn’t seem like one of those people. She came off as, in her father’s view, “somebody who could slit your throat without blinking.”
Jackie had so many questions, but Stef’s body language told her she shouldn’t ask. Not tonight.
When they arrived at the house, Stef said goodbye with no mention of getting together again and no goodnight kiss. Perplexed and disappointed, Jackie watched her ride away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Monday morning before work, Jackie stopped by the bait shop to see her parents. Her father was out front talking to a local fisherman. He acknowledged Jackie with a short wave in her direction. She walked through to the bait room where her mother was feeding the fish in tanks. The shirt she wore was one Jackie had never seen before, a psychedelic tie-dyed T-shirt with the image of a marijuana leaf in a
circle and the words “I Roll With Mary Jane.”
“Mom!” Jackie objected, holding a hand out toward her shirt.
“What?”
“Your shirt!”
“Isn’t it groovy?” Ida swished her hips side to side, modeling her attire.
“Groovy? It’s…It’s—” Jackie fumbled for a word to express her horror.
“Too big?” Ida suggested. “Maybe a little long. But I can hem it. I got this for fifty cents. Can you believe that?”
“Yes, I can.” Jackie pointed accusingly at the lettering on the shirt. “Do you know what that means?”
“Of course. What do you think I am, square? I was cool before you were born, Miss Smarty-Pants.”
“That’s really inappropriate, especially for someone your age.”
“Oh, hang loose, Jackie, baby. It’s a bait shop, not a bank. No reason to be so uptight.”
“But, Mom, it’s—”
“And quit changing the subject.”
“Huh? What subject?”
“The subject of where you were last night.” Her mother’s look was stern and accusing. “Because I already know where you weren’t. You weren’t having Sunday dinner with your family. When I asked Becca why you weren’t there, she got all sassy with me and said, ‘I am not my sister’s keeper.’”
“I did call, Mom. I left a message.”
“I know. Something better to do, you said.”
