Killer Storm

by Jen Wright

  She smiled and nodded, "That, my friend, is a great place to start."

  I asked her if she was worried about the fact that Donna had set this whole thing up, or about how Donna would react if things didn't work out.

  "Donna will be OK either way. She just wants you to be happy and settled. I think it might make our friendship a little less threatening to her, too."

  I stopped in the trail and looked at her. "Is she jealous?"

  "No, not really, just insecure at times. I think it's hard for her that my best friend is a woman. With heterosexuals, the rules are clear. She loves our relationship – envies it sometimes. I think she can get worried when she's feeling insecure or when she and I go through a tough time."

  "It sounds like she and Zoey are becoming good friends."

  "Yes, I'm glad about that. Nice touch on the roses, by the way. I would have gone with all red, though."

  "Small world, isn't it?" She had obviously heard about the color.

  When we got back to her house, she invited me in for dinner. She also fired up the sauna so that it would be good and hot when we were done eating. The temperature was 160 degrees when the three of us entered. I was only able to stay in for about ten minutes before having to head outside to cool off. I put on beach shoes and stood in the cold. It was eight o'clock, eighteen degrees outside, and a sliver of moon was high in the sky. Donna came out right after me, but Kathy, hard-core as ever, stayed in for nearly a half hour. We cleaned up with hot water and soap inside the sauna and walked slowly up to the house. We were steaming naked bodies under the moon. What a life. I found myself thinking about sharing this ritual with Zoey.

  After my ride home, I curled up in bed with Patricia Cornwell and the phone. I was feeling pleased that the Gangster Mob was in large part behind bars. I suspected there were only small-time players left out on the street. Lou was most likely back in his own house, too. I pictured Zoey correcting papers on the floor in front of her gas fireplace. I hoped she was having trouble concentrating because thoughts of me kept creeping into her consciousness from time to time. I read for an hour before the phone rang.

  It was Zoey. I told her about the big progress in the case and about the sauna. She had spent an uneventful day except for the flower delivery, which had produced quite a few questions and reactions around the office. She commented on who was comfortable asking her about them, and who was not. She was out at the college and found it to be a supportive place. She even had a few students who spoke openly to her about the flowers. A baby dyke in class who played on the women's hockey team came to her office for a question after class and smiled big when she saw the roses, asking, "Do I know her?"

  "I guess the student body knows I'm a lesbian. She is going to be a little heartbreaker, that one. Angie Moline. She plays first-line right wing. She had a hat trick in the last home series. Tell me you don't know her."

  "No, I don't. She sounds like she has spunk, though. How goes the paper grading?"

  "It's going fine. I'm a little distractible, though."

  We confirmed our Friday date at my house, and I tried to get her to confess the fantasy, but she kept me in suspense. I fell asleep dreaming of a sauna with Donna, Kathy, Zoey, and me.

  Chapter 27

  Friday morning started slowly for me. I couldn't get it together to take the dogs out, and they were pissed. I told them they were spoiled. Cocoa refused to be kenneled, and I had to use a treat to lure him. What a little shit. It occurred to me that they had been inside on the couch all day the day before. I knew I should build a ski into my plans with Zoey somehow. It was so nice to have this case winding down. At least the dogs could be outside today. There would be no bread for them to steal.

  The ride in to work was uneventful. No dead deer hanging in trees, none on the rooftops of cars with their tongues sticking out. Still there were many vehicles heading up the shore – hunters eager for their last chance to kill. I said a little prayer for the deer that were left.

  The office was already bustling when I walked in at eight. I headed directly to my office with a handful of mail, made a fresh single cup of coffee, and settled into my chair. It actually felt good to just sit at my desk. This had been some week and a half. There were no urgent messages on my phone. There was one thank you call from Sam, and another from Jolene at the jail. Nothing from Nate. I called Lou and asked if he could come back to his unit. He agreed. Lou didn't think there would be any big gang-related events with the Duluth Gangster Mob. He also had slept at home last night. I asked him if he had any contact with Warren after my public acknowledgment the day before. Lou said he hadn't heard a thing from him. I thanked him for all of his work and encouraged him to take some well-earned time off before being assigned back to the intensive unit. He said he would be ready to go back on Monday.

  I called Nate, who was glad to hear that Lou didn't think there would be any more big surprises with the remaining gang members. I asked him if he ever figured out who had broken into my office. He hadn't processed the fingerprints yet but would get to it once he was done filing the police report on Smit. The transportation officer who had been injured in the shooting at the Courthouse was doing OK. Most of the FBI agents had returned to Minneapolis. Because the attempts to break the prisoners out of jail were federally classified offenses, Sam would follow this to the end. She had jurisdiction on any case that would wind up in federal court. Nate thanked me for the help, and we agreed to jointly take Lou out for a high-end dinner.

  I called the Chief of Probation to update him. He was relieved to have it over. He also wanted me to write a letter of commendation for Lou's personnel file. I agreed. This thing really was over. I thought to myself, That security system was overkill.

  I finished out the day with paperwork and picked up groceries on the way home. I was looking forward to my date with Zoey. She had left me wondering about her fantasy. I liked wondering.

  I had time for a quick ski with the dogs before Zoey arrived. They easily kept up with me through the deep snow. They seemed to appreciate the increased speed compared to snowshoeing. Zoey pulled up just as I was skiing back into the yard. I glided up to her car and kissed her through the open window.

  "Mmmm... life is good," she said.

  "It might get a little better."

  "It just keeps getting better and better."

  I noticed that she had an overnight bag, and that she was carrying her roses. I placed them on the kitchen breakfast bar. While I prepared dinner, she caught me up on her workday. She had returned the students' papers, pleased with their progress and grades. It was her Introduction to Psychology class that freshmen take to determine their interest in the study of psychology. Asking freshmen to write a paper was stretching it a bit, but she liked to push her students hard. She was also teaching Abnormal Psych and History & Systems – she was opening me up to a whole new world. I loved listening to her talk about her work. I would have had a major crush on her if she had been one of my professors in college.

  After dinner, we once again found our way to the floor of the living room in front of the fire. She was sitting between my legs, leaning back against me. The now familiar scent of her shampoo wafted its way to my nose. I inhaled deeply and asked about her fantasy. She told me that while she was in the shower, she had focused on the sensation of the water and had consciously relaxed her mind. Suddenly, I was in the shower with her.

  "I began working soap into a lather in my hands. The water was pounding on me. I rubbed your back, fixated on how the tiny bubbles slowly rolled over your curves. I then moved to the place where your jawline and neck meet just below your ear. Have I mentioned I like that spot? I lathered that area and then allowed my fingers to slide gently over the contours where all of those places come together. It sent a hot shock through me. I turned you sideways. Your eyes were nearly closed, and you were giving yourself to the caresses. I moved lower and lathered each breast, taking special pleasure in the way the water hit your nipple and jumped off slight
ly. I worked lather into all of the little crevices of your body. I lingered over the back of your knees and the little crease just inside your hip. Have I mentioned I love that spot, too? I took a moment to kiss that spot. Then I took the portable showerhead in my hands, dialed it to pulsate, and slowly worked my way down. I'll have to show you the rest, but you let out quite a scream of pleasure in the end."

  I sat there stunned. That was some first fantasy. I was wet. She stood up, took my hand, led me into the bathroom, and showed me the way to a scream of pleasure.

  When we were done with water sports, we threw on big flannel shirts and resumed our spot in the sitting spoon position on the floor in front of the fire. Java could not insert himself in this position, so he was quite obviously looking away from us.

  We spent the evening talking about past relationships and about what went right and wrong with them. I confessed my desire to be more open because while my past relationships were open sexually, they began to fall apart as issues surfaced. Zoey had been in two prior partnerships – one in graduate school and one following. The last one lasted six years. They had bumped along quite happily for four years with relatively little conflict. Although they had never discussed it before, Claire suddenly wanted to get pregnant. Zoey had never thought about having kids because she didn't feel maternal at all. Claire told Zoey that she was running out of time, ended the relationship, and was involved with someone else within two months. For the past two years, Zoey had remained single.

  Zoey spent the night. For most of Saturday, she worked on preparing for the following week's lectures. I puttered around the house and finished my Cornwell novel. It was nice to do parallel things while just hanging out in the same space. I called Kathy and Donna, and invited them over for dinner and cards. They suggested their house. I consulted with Zoey, and we compromised on a joint ski to their house followed by dinner. Luckily, Zoey fit into my spare boots. I am not a minimalist when it comes to ski equipment.

  She had never been cross-country skiing before, so we started with a practice session in the driveway of my house. It didn't take long for both of us to figure out that she had natural ability.

  When Kathy and Donna arrived, we set off with headlamps to light our way. Our snowshoe tracks made for fast skiing, and the snow was dry and clean. The river flows down a three percent downgrade, so the skiing was in large part just gliding and poling. There were a couple of waterfalls along the four-mile route, where we usually tell novices to take their skis off and walk down these steep drop offs. When we reached the first waterfall, Zoey said, "Let me see you guys do it, then I'll decide."

  We complied in part. I had Donna and Kathy go first, then Zoey. I wanted to bring up the rear in case of a spill. She made the first hill easily, letting out a "Ya-hoo" in the middle. When I got to the bottom, she planted a big, juicy wet kiss on me, saying, "This is so exciting!"

  Donna and Kathy just watched and smiled.

  The second waterfall was much bigger. It also ended in a large frozen pond. A family who lives nearby sometimes shovels it for skating. This can be a big surprise for skiers who suddenly run out of snow and traction. We assumed the same order as in the previous waterfall, and Donna actually took a spill at the bottom. They hollered up that the bottom wasn't shoveled. I took a minute to tell Zoey how to fall without breaking her wrists as well as how to snowplow. She informed me that she had done some downhill skiing in the mountains of New Mexico and knew perfectly well how to snowplow. She went for it, making it all the way to the bottom, falling only when I was standing next to her. I pretended to fall, too, and landed right on top of her. We laughed and rolled around a bit, while Donna and Kathy made a dramatic effort to fall on each other, too. The dogs quickly joined in and began licking our faces.

  At Kathy and Donna's house, we decided to postpone dinner until after a sauna. The sauna was hot, and we were cold and wet. Zoey couldn't believe we were all getting naked but played along. She was able to stay in as long as Kathy. When she finally did make it out to cool down, she let out a "whoo-eeeee." She was steaming from everywhere. She just stood there cooling down and taking in the feel of being naked in the fifteen-degree air. I encouraged her to stay out until she was actually cold before going in to heat up again. Donna and Kathy cleaned up in warm water inside the sauna and walked into the house without a word. We took our time and played, recreating the water sports of the previous night. By the time we got to the house, we had not cooled down at all.

  Over dinner, Kathy shared with us a remodeling plan that she had just created. Her clients were actually friends of mine. I had known Tina in high school and college, and we had played sports together since we were fifteen. I met Sally years later when she got together with Tina. They had purchased a home in the cozy East End neighborhood of Lakeside, had one baby, were looking to have another, and their house was getting tight. One room had been added previously, but it had no real foundation because it was built on posts. The house also had add-on porches in the front and back. Kathy had come up with an ingenious way to expand both porches, thereby creating a three-season room upstairs. She also redesigned the addition so that it was usable as an extra bedroom. The plan expanded the usable closet space both upstairs and downstairs. Kathy would be going over the plans with Tina and Sally the next day. She had printed out plans using a CAD computer program and had digitized several three-dimensional pictures of the plans. Even I could tell what the final product would look like. We were all impressed with how the plan had made the house look more cohesive.

  After our late dinner, we all piled into Donna's car and made the trek back to my house for dessert. I broke out the ice cream and made decaf cappuccino.

  The night was comfortable, our friendships easy. Zoey seemed to fit in well. I don't think either one of us was nervous. Donna had a perma-grin on her face all night. I was sure that she would take credit for anything good that developed between us. I was more than willing to let her fancy herself a little matchmaker.

  Zoey spent one more night, even though she hadn't planned to. On Sunday, we spent the morning in bed drinking coffee and reading the paper. Both dogs had snuggled in as well. I think we were over the hump with Java. He had begun to see Zoey as part of the pack. I had, too. She made her way home at two in the afternoon.

  Chapter 28

  At work on Monday morning, I had a message to call Sam ASAP. I returned the call even before making my first cup of coffee.

  "We've had an interesting development. Our sting is paying some dividends." I couldn't imagine what could possibly involve me at this point in time.

  "What?"

  "You have a juvenile PO named Warren Gott?" She knew the answer.

  "Yes, why?"

  "Well, he attempted to visit the Nichols brothers in jail Saturday. Does he have any interest in this case? Has he been involved in any way?"

  "Not that I know of."

  "What is he like? I mean, do you have any concerns about him?"

  I was on shaky ground here. Personnel matters are confidential. I didn't really have anything on him, either, except speculation and gut feeling. It was, however, a strong gut feeling.

  She heard my hesitation and said, "OK then, off the record."

  "Well, I have nothing solid on him, just a feeling."

  "I'm asking Nate to run those fingerprints from your office right now. Do your PO's get fingerprinted when you hire them?"

  "They do now, but Gott was hired twenty-four years ago. The old-timers were not required to be fingerprinted when the policy went into effect, so he was grandfathered in. He has no criminal record that I know of. Do you think he's responsible for the break-in?"

  "Could be. Let's not jump to conclusions, though. I need you to get his prints somehow, without his knowledge."

  "Do you realize what you're asking me to do?"

  "Do you want to clear a man who might be wrongly suspected of something very serious?"

  "Good point."

  "If we get a warrant,
his reputation is shit," Sam explained. "And so am I for looking at him. This is the kinder, gentler way."

  "OK. I'll get them."

  I sat there thinking for a while. She was right, this was the kinder, gentler way. If it was him, I was going to nail his ass to the wall. The thought of him breaking into my office really pissed me off. I let the anger fuel me into action.

  My plan was to ask him to meet with me regarding the juvenile work crew and an idea the chief had to turn it into a restorative justice program. He was an old-timer and not likely to question my seeking the advice of someone in the know. I did it all the time. I told him I could only meet at noon and offered to buy lunch. The work crew was a simple program. The crew leaders took court-ordered kids out into the community to do work projects as a consequence, with a general tie to repaying society for the harm caused. The work projects have no real connection to the harm, but rather serve as an abstract reparation. Restorative justice ties the consequence more directly to the crime, and to the victims. The offender has to apologize for the harm and complete a work program that ties as directly as possible to the crime.

  I had pizza and pop delivered to the small meeting room. I actually liked the program design I came up with as a ploy and vowed to get someone moving on it in the near future. Warren gave me the expected advice: "Leave it alone! It works fine as it is." I thanked him for his input and offered to clean up. After he left, I grabbed a pencil, picked up his empty can by putting the eraser end into the opening, and dropped it into a brown lunch bag. I then carried the bag straight to Sam's office.

  Sam was amazed but not surprised at the speed of my sample collection. I outlined the process, and she was impressed. The pizza oil would help with the prints. She called a lab tech., who promptly collected the specimen. She asked me if I would like to wait while they compared prints. I was happy to.

  Sam is a very attractive woman who exudes confidence and power. She isn't over the top, though, and seems really secure with herself. I wondered if it helped her in the work she had chosen. Sometimes it is hard for men to accept women in positions of authority, let alone in an agency that is above the Police Department in the hierarchy of law enforcement. I sat there contemplating this, lost in my own thoughts, until I realized she was watching me.