Sintown Chronicles III: In Dark Corners

by David O. Dyer, Sr.

  "Okay, but may we debate the color?"

  "No. Teal is my favorite."

  "I think you'd look good in a red car."

  "Might clash with my new hair color."

  "Hey, you mean I won that argument?"

  "We'll see."

  They drove by J. Smith's trailer and then stopped at the Police Station.

  "Anything on the email address?” Dale asked.

  Chief Cranfield shook her head. “We're still working on it. Did you post a plea on the Internet?"

  Dale nodded. “I must have received a thousand replies so far but not from the real Sucker."

  "I ran the case by my husband last night. He's going to look into it but, to tell you the truth, he didn't seem very interested."

  "Welcome to the club."

  Lacy raised her eyebrows.

  "That's the response I always get when I talk with law enforcement officers."

  "I listened to you."

  "Not until I threatened to rip the silicon packs out of your boobs."

  "Damn it, Dale, I told you ... besides, according to Sandra Dollar, you may have implants yourself."

  "You spoke with Sandy about me?"

  "She came in this morning to lodge a complaint about you threatening her."

  Dale smiled thinly and stretched out her hand. “Cuff me and lock me up."

  "Not this time, but Dale, you scared the crap out of that woman with absolutely no proof that she may be his next victim. I calmed her down, but if I were you, I think I'd avoid her in the future. She marches to a different drummer. She can be very mean and vindictive."

  "I can take care of myself."

  "You have absolutely no fear, do you?"

  "No, and as a police officer, you shouldn't either."

  Lacy stood and exhaled noisily. “The day I quit being afraid will be the day I resign from the force."

  "Chief,” Dale said, the tone of her voice changed, “I apologize. I didn't come in here this morning to start a war. I haven't slept much the past couple of days. I feel like I'm so close and yet, so far away."

  Lacy put her arm around the shorter woman and, with Stan trailing, walked her to the office door. “You coming to church tomorrow?"

  "Is tomorrow Sunday?"

  "According to my calendar."

  "Yeah. Yeah, I think I will—to Sunday school at least. I want to hear what that woman preacher has to say."

  "That reminds me,” Lacy said absently, “I need to have a little chat with Chris."

  "She seems like a fine woman,” Stan commented.

  Lacy nodded. “That she is, but Officer Coleman told me something strange last night. Coleman patrols Dot at night. I ran this thing about Jerry Smith by him and he said he saw Chris entering Smith's trailer once and leaving the trailer park two other times."

  "Isn't that a minister's job?” Stan asked. “You know, drum up business for the church."

  "At two o'clock in the morning?"

  * * * *

  Stan pushed the speed of his Ford to fifty-five after leaving the Dot city limits.

  "It makes sense, Stud."

  He nodded his agreement. “Reverend Chris Norway is Sucker. She turned white when I mentioned your name to her and gave a repeat performance later at the Korner Kafe."

  "Little Miss Holy Pants has been shacking up with J. Smith. He got too rough and she cut him off, saw my posts on the Internet and decided to seek revenge."

  "She may still be splaying her legs for him and wants you to put an end to it."

  "How do you figure that?"

  "Think about it, Dale. If Smith spreads it around that he's been sleeping with Chris, it would ruin her."

  Dale grinned. “It's going to be interesting to see how she reacts to us sitting in her Sunday school class in the morning."

  "Count me out, Dale."

  "Okay."

  "Really. I don't own a suit."

  "That's a good reason not to go to church. I'm sure God will punish you if you show up wearing a sports shirt and jeans."

  They listened to the tires hum for twenty miles.

  "Do you own a decent bathing suit?"

  "I wore one last night."

  "That's a matter of opinion."

  "You're the only guy at the pool who seemed to object."

  "Do you?"

  "Maybe."

  "Want to work on our swimming act tonight?"

  "I don't think so. Pull into that service station and ask directions."

  "I saw a Chevy dealership when I was in Charlotte yesterday. It's just around the corner from Wal-Mart."

  Five minutes later Stan pulled into the dealer lot. “Where am I supposed to park?” he wondered aloud.

  "Just let me out right here,” she said, unsnapping her seat belt.

  "Okay, I'll park somewhere and join you."

  She stepped outside and held the door open. “No thank you. I don't need a man to confuse the issue ranting and raving about horsepower and suspension systems. Have a good life, Stud. You're a great guy and I'm happy our paths crossed."

  "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "My, my, you finally said a bad word."

  "I'm sorry, but what's going on? Are you blowing me off?"

  "I guess I am, Stud. Go back to your sightseeing that I interrupted. There is no need for you to hang around any longer."

  "Dale, what did I do?"

  She smiled. “My vendetta against J. Smith is personal and you don't want to have sex with me. There's no reason for you hang around any longer."

  "I kissed you this morning."

  She chuckled. “You call that a kiss? No wonder your wife went back to mama."

  She slammed the door. Tears formed in his eyes as he watched her disappear inside the building. He drove back to Dot, ate a barbecue sandwich at Dad’ Place, packed his bag, went back to Charlotte, found I77 and headed for he knew not where.

  Dale wiped a tear from her eye as she drove her new Cavalier back to Dot. You were supposed to come after me, damn it, she thought. You were supposed to tell me you love me madly and want to be with me the rest of my life. Bastard! Good riddance.

  She snapped on the radio and punched the “seek” button, letting it jump from station to station. I bought a red car, damn it, just like you told me to, she thought. They had a teal one, but I bought the red, just for you, damn it. Why the hell did I do that? Shit, I even found a beauty parlor and had my hair dyed red.

  Dale slammed the palm of her hand against the steering wheel. “You'll be back, damn it,” she said aloud. “I know you will. You'll remember how I looked at the pool last night. All men think with the head of their dicks, but, by God, you'll crawl on your hands and knees before I let you into my bed."

  She drove directly to Dad's Place. Stan's Ford was not there. She used her locksmith tools to gain entry into his room. The dresser drawers were empty and the suitcase was gone. She went to her room and checked twenty-eight meaningless email messages.

  He'll be back, she promised herself as she drove to the Dot Clinic.

  "You're a virgin?” Dr. McGee asked with obvious surprise.

  "Is that a damn crime?"

  Mary Lou smiled. “No, but it is unusual this day and time. To answer your question, yes, I can surgically open your hymen. It will take perhaps a week for the discomfort to end, but it will make your first experience more pleasant. As far as birth control is concerned, you have many options."

  "I want the shot. It's good for three months, right?"

  McGee smiled. “You seem to have done your research.” She led Dale to a small room and told her to take off her clothes and put on the blue paper gown provided. Minutes later Mary Lou returned, wearing a mask and pulling on surgical gloves.

  "Uh, Dale, sit in the chair."

  Dale obeyed, sitting sidesaddle on the black plastic.

  "You'll have to do better than that. Slip back and get comfortable."

  "That's easier said than done,” Dale said, trying to find a co
mfortable position against the low angled back of the apparatus.

  "Put your feet in the stirrups.” Mary Lou watched Dale's attempts to find the footrests, glad that the mask hid her smirk. “You've never done this before, have you Dale?"

  "No, and I may never do it again. It ... it's humiliating."

  Mary Lou rolled a tray of instruments into place and perched between Dale's outstretched legs. “A woman your age should have regular gynecological examinations, Dale. Do you know how to check your breasts for lumps?"

  "I'm too young to have cancer."

  "No, you're not. We'll do a breast exam next and I'll teach you."

  Dr. McGee reached for an instrument and Dale tensed when she felt the metal slip inside her. “Relax,” Mary Lou said softly.

  "It's cold."

  "Sorry."

  "Stop, damn it. That hurts,” Dale said when she felt the speculum begin to open the walls of her vagina.

  "It doesn't hurt and if you'll just relax it won't even be uncomfortable.” Dr. McGee leaned forward. “Hmm. You don't need the procedure, Dale. You have no hymen."

  "That's not possible."

  Mary Lou withdrew the speculum and chuckled as she placed it on the tray. “Lots of women lose their hymens when they are still children, especially if the membrane is thin."

  "How?"

  "Oh, riding horses, bicycles, experimentation by poking things in there that don't belong."

  "I've never ridden a horse or a bicycle and I sure as hell haven't poked any foreign objects up my pussy."

  McGee helped Dale free her feet from the stirrups and raised the back of the chair. “Do you masturbate with a vibrator or dildo?"

  "Never!"

  The doctor removed her mask. “Do you use sanitary napkins or tampons?"

  "Tampons."

  McGee chuckled. “Well, there you go.” She reached for the top of Dale's gown, slipped it below her breasts and pulled a mirror on a rolling stand next to the chair. “I want you to watch me carefully.” For ten minutes, she gently pressed two fingers of her right hand into various parts of Dale's breasts.

  "Firm and lump free,” McGee announced. “You think you can do it now?"

  Dale nodded.

  "Show me."

  Dale complied.

  Dr. McGee pulled the gown to Dale's neck and moved to a desk next to the door. She returned with a small package. “You can take this with you."

  "What will I do with an imitation tit?"

  McGee laughed. “Test the foam model for lumps."

  "You're kidding."

  McGee shook her head.

  Dale pressed three spots before finding the pea-sized mass.

  "That's what you're looking for when you do a self-exam. I recommend that you check your breasts once a week, perhaps while taking a shower.” She removed the surgical gloves, coated a cotton swab with alcohol and picked up a syringe from the instrument tray. “Where do you want it, fanny or arm?"

  Dale offered her arm and winced when the needle penetrated.

  "That's it,” Mary Lou said. “Put on your clothes and pay at the desk."

  "Dr. McGee, I have another question. My mom died when I was only eleven. I had some girl friends while I was growing up but, well, my mind was not on sex during those years. I've seen dirty movies but..."

  "I'm not going to put words into your mouth, Dale."

  Dale lowered her eyes. “I've never experienced an orgasm. I don't know how."

  "You want me to show you how to masturbate?"

  Dale nodded.

  "Feet back into the stirrups.” Mary Lou pulled on a fresh pair of surgical gloves, shoved the gown up to Dale's waist, and rolled the mirror between her legs. “Can you see clearly?"

  Dale nodded.

  Using her index fingers, Mary Lou touched her. “These are called the labia major and..."

  "I know the names and locations of the little nooks and crannies."

  McGee smiled. “This, you know, is the clitoral hood."

  Dale fought the urge to both blush and moan as the doctor's finger slid down the rounded flesh to its tip.

  "And this is a woman's best friend, the tip of the clitoris."

  "The tip?"

  McGee nodded and lightly grasped the sides of the hood with her thumb and index finger, gently pulling back the skin. “Most of the clitoris is under the hood, just as most of the head of an uncircumcised penis is under the foreskin. Gently massaging the hood, like this, usually leads to orgasm. When the clitoris is aroused, as yours is becoming, some women like to rub the tip vigorously. For me, it's painful, but it may be pleasurable for you. You'll have to experiment with various ways of touching yourself to see what works best for you."

  "Dr. McGee. I'm sorry."

  Mary Lou smiled. “Don't be sorry, child. Be happy. Your clit is considerably larger than most and is very sensitive. That's a good thing. Arousal coming so easily means your equipment is working perfectly."

  "I know I'm blushing and I am embarrassed, but I appreciate you teaching me this."

  "Do you know about the G Spot?"

  "I've heard of it. Some people think it doesn't exist."

  "Oh, it exists, all right, but many women can't find it.” McGee coated two fingers on her right hand with surgical jelly. “Try to relax,” she said as she slipped her fingers inside Dale's vagina and pressed them against the upper wall. “Somewhere in here there's a hard little knot and—oh, there it is."

  "Stop,” Dale gasped.

  McGee turned her back and tugged off the gloves. “I think you need to hurry back to the motel and begin enjoying your body."

  Sexual experimentation could wait. Having skipped lunch, Dale was hungry and parked in front of Dad's Place. She entered the restaurant, did a double take and chuckled. Stan was sitting in the far booth, dressed in a new suit and hungrily devouring a sandwich.

  She wiped the smile from her lips and slid into the booth opposite him.

  He swallowed and grinned. “Your hair looks great."

  "I thought you left for parts unknown."

  "That's what you told me to do and I did. You said there was no reason for me to hang around Dot any longer."

  Dale nodded.

  "Fifty miles south of Charlotte it suddenly dawned on me that you were wrong."

  "Oh?"

  He lifted the last bite of his sandwich. “Mom's barbecue!"

  She giggled. “Why the suit?"

  "Don't want God to punish me for showing up in church without one."

  "Well, be careful. I have an idea Mom's sauce will be difficult to get out of that white shirt."

  "Not to worry. I now own two of them.” He slipped out of his seat and smiled. “How many do you want?"

  "Let's start with two."

  "Pepsi?"

  "For some reason, I have an urge for chocolate milk."

  He quickly returned with her order and an additional sandwich for himself. “I thought you were going to buy a teal Cavalier."

  "What makes you think I didn't?"

  "I saw you drive up in the parking lot,” he explained, nodding towards the window.

  "They didn't have a teal one in stock. Now, hush and let me fill my tummy."

  "I, uh, bought something in addition to my new suit—a bathing suit. I think it'll fit."

  "If you had doubts, why didn't you try it on?"

  "My breasts aren't large enough for it."

  "There's nothing wrong with my swimsuits, Stud."

  "Will you at least try it on?"

  "I'll think about it."

  After the meal, Stan went to his room to change clothes and Dale checked her email messages.

  "Anything?” he asked when he joined her.

  "Fifty-one lewd emails but nothing from the real Sucker.” Dale nodded towards the package he held. “Swimsuits?"

  He nodded while offering her the bundle. “Your choice—black or white."

  She dumped the one-piece suits on her bed and held up the black version. “I ha
te it."

  "Please try it on."

  "If you insist, but I'm not wearing it out in public.” She went into the bathroom and wiggled into the white suit, amazed at how well it fit. She tried to make a dramatic entrance and posed like a model. “Well, what do you think?"

  "I think you're wonderful."

  "I was referring to the bathing suit."

  "You know I like it or I wouldn't have bought it. The question is, what do you think?"

  Dale backed away from the dresser mirror until she could see her complete image. “It covers everything..."

  "Yeah."

  "You didn't let me finish. It covers everything and leaves nothing in doubt. Looks like I was wrong. I love it!"

  "You are wrong about another thing, Dale."

  "Oh?"

  "While out shopping, I bought a box of condoms."

  "How many are in a box?"

  "I do want to make love to you, Dale."

  "I don't see anyone stopping you."

  "I didn't say I want to have sex with you."

  "There's a difference?"

  He nodded.

  Dale looped her arms around his neck. “I used to be a good student. Teach me."

  Stan closed his arms around her, their lips met and tongues touched. His hands inched lower down her back as she slipped her fingers into his hair. He broke the kiss and nestled his cheek to hers. His left hand found her buttocks as his right hand nudged the side of her left breast. She pulled back her shoulder, allowing his hand to cover her swelling breast. She moaned as his fingers pressed into the nubile flesh and wished the swimsuit was not separating his flesh from hers.

  "Shit!” she muttered when the telephone rang.

  Stan stepped back. “It could be..."

  "I know.” She picked up the handset. “Hello."

  "Dale, this is Lacy Cranfield. Are you okay?"

  "Of course."

  "Have you heard from Sucker?"

  "No. What's up, Chief?"

  "Sandra Dollar is missing."

  Chapter Five

  Chief Cranfield met them at the entrance to the Police Station, wrapped her arm around Dale's shoulders and steered her to the back office. “I appreciate you coming on such short notice. Dale, Stan, this is my husband, Bud, and his best friend, Julius Borders."

  The older of the men extended his hand. “Not many people get away with using my first name. Please call me Borders."