"Think we've got it sorted."
"Glad for you, bro."
"Me, too."
*.*.*.*.*
I was just finishing my make up when Dex brought me my coffee in a travel mug. We had decided to stay at my place after our time with Cait and Jake.
"What's your day look like?" Dex asked.
"Just need to finish packing my office and get my assessment from Dr. Weatherby and then I'm done for the summer."
"What do you usually do when school's over?"
I stopped and looked at his reflection in the mirror. What did I do in the summer when I wasn't teaching?
"This is going to sound really weird, but outside of reading some books for fun and doing research on whatever paper I was writing, I don't remember. I usually go to my mom's in Ohio around the 4th for a couple of weeks but outside of that I don't remember anything."
It was true. My summers in the past were so boring that I couldn't bring them to mind.
I watched as Dex moved behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist.
"Want to go with me to Sturgis in August?" He asked my reflection in the mirror.
"Sure, if you're sure I won't be a distraction," I said as I began sweeping mascara on my eyelashes.
He was quiet as he watched my reflection.
"Do you make the mouth movement because your gunking up your eyelashes or is it the other way around?"
I stopped and just looked at him.
"Just sayin'." He was smiling so I knew he was trying to ruffle my feathers.
Mouth movement, indeed, I thought watching him walk back into the bedroom.
That is until I switched to the other eye and caught a glimpse of my mouth in the mirror. He was right, I held my mouth in a little 'O' shape when I put on my mascara.
Good to know.
Dex walked me out to the garage and gave me a kiss to last me the few hours we'd be apart. I got in the car and hit the button for the garage door and saw, as the garage door ascended, him grab the hose on the side of the house preparing to wash his motorcycle. I gave him a cheery wave as I backed slowly down the drive.
"Babe! Wait!" I heard him yell and stopped.
"Pull back in the driveway, Leila," he instructed, so I did. He was standing on the driver side of the car, his eyes roaming.
"Shut the car off, and get out, okay?" His voice told me that he was not happy about whatever he saw on the car.
I did exactly what he said and saw that my Acura had been keyed.
But whoever had done it wasn't content with just random scratches.
No, they had been much more inventive and had decorated my car with the top four common slang terms for women you don't like.
Slut, bitch, skank and whore.
And all four words adorned both the driver and passengers side, with extra emphasis on the hood and included the 'C' word, as in texting, C U Next Tuesday.
After making a quick circle around my car, Dex pulled his phone out of his back pocket. 'Police' he mouthed at me, as he connected with them and stated the situation.
"Said they could have someone out within an half hour," he said when he finished the call and made his way back to me, rubbing my back.
"How'd they get in, Dex? It had to have been done last night but you saw me unlock the deadbolt on the door to the garage when I went to get in my car."
We both looked back at the garage still open with its door rolled up.
"Leila, look at that. There're footprints in the dust on the floor for the passenger side."
He was right.
At this hour of the morning, the sun was hitting my garage at just the right angle enabling us to see the footprints on the side of the garage that we didn't use. On the rare occasion when we drove my car, we always pulled it out of the garage first, then one of us got in on the passenger side.
Dex used his camera to take a couple of pictures of both the footprints and my car with the etched words while we waited for Grantham P.D. to show.
I glanced around the neighborhood as I waited in the driveway. The only movement I could see was Mrs. G peeking between her mini-blinds.
Officer Matthews showed up with his partner, Officer Reid and they took our statements. Since Matthews was the one that came out when Dex had the break in and destruction done to his Jeep, he did a little bit more questioning and walking around making notes, especially when Dex pointed out the footprints.
"We've got a call in to Detective Pierson because there's definitely a connection here but he's trained to put all the threads together," he said, studiously avoiding the arm Dex had wrapped around my waist.
"Will I be able to drive my car? I have to get to the University."
"Ah, sorry, no, Dr. McCarthy. At least not right now. Detective Pierson may have to do finger prints on your vehicle, so it's best if you just left it here."
"Let me call Jake, babe, and see if he can hook you up with a rental. And if that doesn't work I'll take you on my bike and call Gabe to see if he can cover me for a couple of hours."
I hadn't really been that worried when I saw the words etched into my car.
But the talk of bringing in a detective and linking Dex's car damage to mine, I found that I was more than kind of shaken.
I think Dex could see that I was starting to move from concern to worried to oh my freaking God.
He came back and looped an arm around me as he finished his conversation with Jake.
"Says that he'll have Trails bring the Mustang out within the hour, so I think we're more than covered, princess. And you're gonna love the 'Stang, it is a sah-weet ride." He said with a squeeze.
"Although," I heard him say in a soft voice with his mouth next to my ear, "if you really need to take your mind off the car, we can always see if Matthews has a break soon..."
I couldn't help but laugh at that.
I was pretty sure that Dex thought two was enough to play and was only giving me grief to lighten my mood.
"What time's your meeting, Elle?"
"At two, but I was hoping to have my office cleared by then so that I could be completely done after my assessment."
"How much stuff do you still need to move? You think we'll need to borrow Benny's truck?"
And we tried to come up with a work-around as we waited in the driveway for the delivery of the rental and for Detective Pierson.
We were hoping that Trails would be able to take my car directly back to Skeet's but I didn't know how Trails, a huge mountain of a man with a pony tail and ZZ Top beard, would feel driving a car that had been deeply etched with the words slut, bitch, skank and whore.
I could figure that more than a few men would feel their manhood had taken a hit and for others it wouldn't even be a blip on their radar.
As luck would have it, Trails and the detective showed up at the same time and after the two of them had made a circle around the car, we all went into my kitchen. I put another pot of coffee on as Dex sat with them at the dining room table.
As I sat down, I saw Trails' gaze move around the rooms.
"I remember when old man Simpson had this house. You've done it up real nice, Leila," Trails rumbled and gave me a small smile almost hidden by the amount of hair on his face.
I smiled back. It's true that I'd had to do a lot of work to bring the house up to twenty first century standards, but I'd tried really hard to keep the arts and crafts architecture in mind when I did the renovations.
"Just a few questions, Dr. McCarthy, so we can try and find who might behind this," Detective Pierson said.
"Sure, but please call me Leila."
I saw Dex get up to handle the coffee and turned my eyes back to the Detective Pierson.
"So, as I understand it, your car was in the garage with the overhead door down and secured and the door that leads to it from inside the house had the deadbolt engaged from late afternoon until you got in it around nine this morning. Is that correct?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"Do
you know of anyone with any reason to carve those words into your car?"
"No one comes to mind, sir."
Jake was distributing the coffee in my mismatched collector mugs and even brought over the sugar and creamer with spoons, letting each of us doctor our own.
"What about you, Dex. Anybody with a grudge against you, or against the two of you?"
I saw Dex shake his head as he reached for my hand. I hadn't realized that I was shaking until I felt it in his grip.
"No, I can't think of anyone," he said.
"Well, you two have sure pissed somebody off," Trails growled. "Either that or they don't like seein' a Jeep and an Acura on the road." His words broke up some of the tension in the room and I began to settle myself.
Detective only had a few more questions and Dex had explained about the footprints before the detective asked him to email him the pictures from Dex's cellphone.
We all filed outside and Trails and the detective had a few words off to the side before Trails came back to me to trade car keys.
"Says that I can take it to back to Skeet's and he'll have somebody come down and look for fingerprints."
"You gonna be okay riding in a car with pussy comments on it?" Dex asked as he slipped an arm around me with a grin after transferring the unfolded boxes from my car to the cherry red Mustang.
"I'd love to have somebody say somethin'," Trails replied. "I'm in the mood to throw down and I'd love to have some punk, muthafucka give me an excuse."
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Detective Pierson mumbled as he moved away from our group and went back to the garage.
We watched as Trails left in my car.
"I can stick around, Elle, until he's finished." Dex said pointing his chin to the detective. "Benny says that traffic in the shop is slow this morning so you can go ahead and take off, do what you need to do before your meeting.
Is it me or is my fella the most amazing man?
Chapter Twenty Eight
I was able to finishing packing everything up in my office and made ready to be loaded into Benny's van tomorrow morning. Glancing at the time reflected on my cellphone, I grabbed my purse, locked my office door and made my way to Dr. Weatherby's office.
I knocked softly on the door frame and saw her wave me in to her office.
"Good afternoon, Dr. McCarthy," She began as she removed her reading glasses, allowing them to fall against her ample, matronly chest, captured by the chain around her neck. "Here for your assessment?"
"I am," I said with a smile. She nodded to the chair across from her desk and I folded myself into it.
I had taken special care with my clothes, hair and make-up this morning knowing that I would be meeting with her this afternoon. I had paired my sheer, dusky blueberry top and its matching camisole with a pair of low on my hips, black dress trousers and black patent leather wedged sandals. No necklace but some jet black beaded earrings and a couple of stretchy black beaded bracelets.
My lips felt a bit sticky, so I probably overdid it again with the lip gloss. But I was still getting used to even wearing makeup, not to mention how often a girl was suppose to reapply certain items.
She gave me the same pre-speech that I'd given Carla as she slid a copy of my assessment across the desk. I wasn't worried since my last assessment, done in March, had been glowing. So I basically skimmed down the pages, flipping through the pages, before I got to the end.
By then, my brain caught up with what my eyes had read.
'While Dr. McCarthy has, throughout the year, displayed her empathic concern with the educational needs of her students, it has come to our attention that her change in her attire has not only been a disruption in her classrooms but with other faculty members.'
Say, what?
'It is apparent that Dr. McCarthy has abandoned all sense of academic decorum and seems to only seek to entice and tempt any and all males within the circle of her influence.'
'It has been reported that Dr. McCarthy has been spending her spare time with those of questionable character who have obviously been a great and detrimental influence on her.
'Since these changes have only come to the fore in the last two months of the school year, we are not recommending revoking Dr. McCarthy's tenure, but she is hereby under notice that the next infraction will, in fact, be cause for immediate expulsion from her contract and she will be stripped of any and all awards that she has obtained while under the auspices of the University of Colorado/Grantham.'
I raised my eyes to Dr. Weatherby's, but I wasn't seeing her.
I was seeing everyone at the University that I'd come into contact with since Spring break, re-hearing their comments on my transformation, roaming through my memory trying to find instances where I had, in any possible way, demonstrated the character (or lack of) that was written in my annual assessment.
"Any questions or concerns, Dr. McCarthy," I heard Dr. Weatherby's supercilious voice and watched as she reached to select a pen in her the pen holder placed neatly next to her keyboard. "If not, then you need to sign the last page and I'll get it to Dean Hotchner tomorrow."
I took a deep breath and sought for just the right words.
"I not only will not be signing my assessment today, but I respectfully request that you arrange a meeting with the Dean at his earliest opportunity. I not only reserve the right to refute your assessment, but also would like to hear his viewpoint on his department head's evaluation that seems to be based on their professor's clothes and choice of friends that have absolutely nothing to do with the University in the least."
I watched as she flinched at each point of my statement and wouldn't look me in the eye by the end.
"I'm sure Dean Hotchner is entirely too busy at this time of year…" she began.
"Let's just see if we can get him or his secretary on the phone right now to make that appointment happen, shall we?" I suggested, even going so far as to pick up the receiver on her desk phone and handing it to her.
Her look was venomous as she snatched the receiver from my hand and pushed two buttons on the phone before connecting with Loreena, the Dean's secretary and right arm. After explaining that she needed an appointment and why, Dr Weatherby replaced the receiver with a lot less force than I'd imagined.
"We have an appointment with him on Wednesday at nine a.m.," She said.
"Good," I offered, bringing my purse to my lap and standing up. "I'll look forward to it. In the meantime, I'll keep the copy of the assessment you've given me today and have my attorney review and compare it to the contract that I'd initially signed at the beginning of this year."
Neither one of us offered any of the standard social niceties that one gives at the end of a meeting.
Because I was sure that I just became Dr. Weatherby's number one enemy on campus.
But, surprisingly, I didn't give a rip.
*.*.*.*.*
He heard the bell above the shop's door jingle and looked up to see Leila walk in, dressed to the fucking nines, and wave to him as she stopped by the counter and greet Benny.
God, she was gorgeous and just as breathtaking as when he had first met her.
Dex slowed his machine as he wiped the excess off the heart that he was inking onto the inside wrist of the blonde girl on his chair. Looking at it, he figured he had five, maybe ten more minutes of work before he could take his girl out to dinner.
He glanced back out to the counter and caught her big, brown eyes and held up one hand, fingers splayed and flashed it twice. He saw her grin and nod, which had his heart doing a double bump in response.
The blonde on his chair noticed where his eyes had gone and gave a loud har-rump.
"As I was saying…" she said loudly.
Dex just ignored her and bent back over her wrist, anxious to get her and her motor-mouth out of his chair so he could spend time with the girl who had captured his heart.
This happened a lot, a client thinking they were something special to the artist maybe be
cause of their close proximity or because the artist was, basically, branding them for life with their choice of design.
Sure, sometimes it happened, like with him and Leila but even then he hadn't pursued anything until they met outside of the shop.
And that implied connection wasn't always just between members of the opposite sex, but with those of the same sex as the artist doing the work.
Dex didn't find a problem shutting down any approach from anyone of any sex if he wasn't interested in and lately, he was only interested in one. And she was leaning over the counter making Benny laugh at something she said.
He applied the ointment and the piece of plastic wrap around motor-mouth's wrist and handed her a care instruction sheet before moving the ink tray so she could get up. She pressed a five dollar bill into his hand along with a piece of paper with a phone number on it which he pocketed until she was up at the front with Benny.
Then he dumped the number into the trash and moved the fiver into his money clip.
Leila was standing at the doorway of his booth when he turned around and he snagged her waist with one arm as he shot the drape closed behind her before lowering his mouth to hers.
"Missed you, babe," he said against her mouth before he brought his tongue into their mouth play and slid his hand down inside the waistband of her trousers to capture her ass cheek. Just like always, Elle gave as good as she got and Dex was thinking about the different positions that they could do on his client chair if they were very, very quiet. Luckily, she had kept her wits about her and was the first of them to break lip contact.
"Missed you, too, honey," she said softly against his mouth. "You free for dinner?"
Dex did a nose slide as he tried to get a handle on the beast in his jeans. He couldn't remember the last time he'd checked the book, but he knew that the traffic today, like every Friday was sporadic. Especially with the end of classes at the University.
Rather than subject the entire front area to the lump behind his zipper, he pulled out his cellphone and called Benny at the front desk.
"How's it looking, amigo? Got time to take my girl out to dinner?"
"Slow, man. Damn slow," Benny replied. "Slow enough for you to take your girl out to dinner and play 'hide the salami' for dessert."
Human Hieroglyphix - Dex & Leila Page 21
