The Sassy Belles

by Beth Albright

  “No big deal, it’s just water. I’ll dry.” I was rubbing the towels through my hair. “And thanks. Sonny, I feel the same way about you on this. We do make a good team.”

  I looked up at him and smiled. His eyes were so tender and his face was soft and sweet, still boyish with all those freckles. Sonny was the chief investigator for the force. He was a suit and tie guy, not in a uniform. But he carried his gun in his holster on his hip. He was so tall with broad shoulders and big hands. He wasn’t like Harry, always slick in a Hugo Boss monochromatic suit. No, Sonny was more like a khakis–and-tweed-sport-coat kinda guy. Usually in a dark-hued classy tie and a light-colored button-down shirt. He was a man’s man. Rugged and tough, but tender and emotional when the time was right. Was the time right, right now?

  I stepped away from him, realizing my shirt was now see-through as it clung to my body, and my pink sheer bra was very visible. I knew I wasn’t hiding much as Sonny kept glancing down. We were alone in a nasty thunderstorm and just a dim light on at his desk. He took the towels back and reached down and gently grasped my hand and began dabbing my fingers, then moving up to my neck just under my cheeks, he rubbed my skin softly. He was dabbing and sliding the little white cloth down my neck, then he began to glide the towel to the front, inching toward my chest into the collar of my wet blouse, which was open down to the third button.

  Looking down into my eyes, he said, “I guess you better take it from here.” I wanted him to keep moving, but I instinctively held his wrist as he let go. His skin was warm and his touch was sweet and tender. I knew I had to step back. My heart felt stuck in my throat. The chemistry we had always had was still there, more than ever now that we were adults. I was scared at what I thought could happen between us, and I was ashamed at myself for what I wanted to happen.

  “Let me get you something else to put on,” Sonny suddenly said, realizing the room was getting hot in so many ways. I could see him looking at me with intensity. The tension between us was building and I felt my pulse race. I was sure he could see my heart pounding under my wet blouse. I wanted something to happen but I knew it was very wrong. I just couldn’t help being excited and I could see Sonny’s face flush red as he turned to head up the hall.

  “I keep an extra set of clothes back here in my office closet. Never know when I might need to change after looking for bodies and criminals.” He walked down the hall to his office and I followed him without even thinking. Sonny was always the caretaker. That’s why I always felt so safe with him. Not that I needed caretaking, but I sure liked it. He opened his office closet and took a white button-down dress shirt off the hanger and handed it to me.

  “Here’s my shirt and you’ll find some little white plastic bags under the sink in the bathroom for your wet things.”

  “Thanks Sonny, you’re so sweet. I could have made it home and changed. But this will be much more comfortable,” I said.

  “Well, it’s the least I could do, seeing as how I made you get all wet.” He smiled with his cocked eyebrow up. I smiled and shook my head at his little innuendo and took the shirt. He had been that way since I had known him and his comments always made me smile. I felt desirable around him. So feminine. I headed into the bathroom and changed out of my soaked blouse and bra and returned to Sonny’s office with the white plastic bag full of wet clothes. Sonny’s shirt came down past my hips to the top of my thighs, and smelled like his Stetson cologne. It began to make my head spin as I was now enveloped in “Sonny.” My head told me I needed to leave but my body kept telling me to stay.

  “I better go, I’ve got a lot to do tonight. What are you doing here so late anyway?” I asked, trying to ignore my body.

  “Oh, I’m here waitin’ on DNA results on that pink lipstick from those cigarettes. I think that’s gonna tell us a lot. I wanna be here when it comes in.”

  So dedicated, I thought.

  “Do you need me to wait with you? I mean, do I need to be here, too?” My body was still speaking instead of my head. Wait there all night with Sonny, in his big dress shirt and wearing no bra? Smart, Blake, really smart. Not a good idea, especially when I had so much work to do, being in the middle of both of these incredibly stressful cases. I squirmed and tried to shut my body up.

  “As much as I would love for you to be here, I’m okay and it sounds like you have a full plate for tonight.” The heaviness of the moment lightened as I turned to leave. “Besides, Harry called and I told him the results were coming in late tonight. He said he’d be swingin’ by in a few.” I took a deep breath, realizing Harry did not need to see me in Sonny’s shirt. I sped things up.

  “Oh, okay. Well, I better get going so y’all can work and I can get going on my file.” I swallowed hard, not wanting to leave the security of Sonny but knowing I needed to. I reached up and hugged him around his neck and he held me around my back, pressing me to him tightly.

  “Thanks again for the shirt. Y’all call me when you get the results, okay?” I said, releasing him.

  “Will do. Don’t work too hard,” he said with a smile. It was a tender, awkward moment. We both felt something was happening but the timing was off. I smiled and headed back to the front of the station. As I reached for the door, I turned back and looked at Sonny leaning in his office doorway, hands in his pockets and smiling at me. Something stirred in me that I hadn’t felt in a long time. It was prickly and uncomfortable and soothing and intoxicating all at the same time. I breathed in a deep breath.

  Outside, the rain had stopped and the street was dark as I made my way back across the lot to my car. On the short drive home, Sonny’s cologne kept drifting under my nose, wafting around my face. It made me feel good. I caught myself smiling.

  At home I changed into my loose cotton shorts and kept Sonny’s shirt on. The lights were dim, the ceiling fans turning slowly as I made my way to the bed with my file. Opening the envelope, I spread all the papers and my notes out all over my bed and made myself comfortable. I tried to concentrate but the smell of Sonny was all over me, and I didn’t want to lose it. I began sifting through the evidence, the real estate files and my own petitions. None of it was making sense. Everything looked legitimate but their dates weren’t coordinating with the petitions and I knew I must be missing something. I was going over everything with a fine-toothed comb, but I knew I would need more information and that would have to wait until I could call for additional files in the morning. I was pretty confident I could string it all together with just a tad more info. Besides, I was fidgeting and restless, wrestling with the essence of a certain favorite cop.

  * * *

  It was later that evening and when I decided I needed to stretch and take a breather. I walked into the bathroom and put my hair up in a ponytail. Home was dark and cold that night. The house was so quiet.

  I’m usually pretty independent. I’m the one people turn to in a crisis. But tonight’s damp air, along with all the thoughts swirling in my head, not to mention Sonny’s cologne drifting over me, had left me a little lonely, and I felt drawn to go back to Meridee’s. I was a little emotional and seeking some comfort and Meridee’s is my port in a storm. If I was going to spend the evening alone, I wanted to do it somewhere safe, and Meridee’s was just the ticket. I knew it would relax me and that’s just what I needed. I changed into a pair of sweatpants and a warm sweater, then hopped in my car for the short drive to Mother’s.

  Her house was dark and a little damp. Someone had left the kitchen window open from earl
ier today and the feel and smell of the rain had crept inside. With Harry and Sonny working and Vivi safely tucked in for the night, we were all separated for the first time since Lewis had gone missing. I think we all needed a break.

  I walked down the hall and switched on the lamp that sat on the old phone table and opened the linen closet. Never very organized, Meridee’s towels and sheets were all thrown mish-mash around the closet, crammed in here and there. I knew she kept a box of pictures and old love letters from her beloved Frank on the back of one of the shelves, and I felt like reading them. With my marriage to Harry feeling very tenuous, I thought it would feel good to read those letters and remind myself of the real love that Frank and Meridee had for one another. I knew it would remind me that that kind of love really did exist.

  I shoved my hand between the jammed linens until I felt the hard side of the box. I pulled it out and sat on the old tapestry carpet right there in the hallway. I didn’t even know what I was looking for. Evidence that passionate love was a real thing? Maybe I was just needing the comfort of Meridee in the middle of all this. I was suddenly swimming in a memory from one of my favorite summers—one that I like to call “the summer of the voices.”

  That summer was so extraordinary we had to title it. One hot August day, my friends and I were playing in the cool, damp basement at Mother’s. It was after my grandpa Frank had died and the Ouiji board was in its heyday. Right in the middle of our game, we heard the ceiling creak and crack, but we thought we were alone. We ran upstairs to explore the house. Finding no one, we returned to the basement and our game when…it spoke.

  “Blake.”

  Something said my name.

  “Did you hear that?” my friend Kathleen asked.

  “Uh…yeah,” I replied nervously.

  And then again, “Blake.”

  The voice was breathy and low and a little gravelly. It was Frank. I heard him and I just knew it. He had been dead several months, but I guess he just wasn’t ready to go. I understand that now, but back then, at eleven years old, the Ouiji board had come to life.

  Me, Kathleen and Vivi jumped up, scared out of our wits, and went screaming and running out of the basement at full speed. We ran out of the house, jumped the hedges and kept going three houses down all the way to the playground.

  Later, Vivi and I would laugh about that day, but underneath, we knew what we had heard. I laughed out loud as I sat there in the hall, and I heard my own laughter echo through the empty house. I sat still, listening for ghosts that night.

  But the house was silent. Chillingly silent. I kept sifting through the box. Beneath the pictures, I pulled out a pack of tattered envelopes held together by a rubber band. I had read these so many times growing up. Meridee used to show these to me proudly with such a sweetness in her eyes and voice. They were her love letters from Frank. Some of them dated back to the thirties, and they were always signed, Your Lover, Frank.

  They were so romantic and sexy and gave me such an insight into Meridee as a young woman. She was alive and passionate and so in love. I loved reading these old letters, especially with Meridee. I loved hearing her voice, now shaky with age, repeat the words of her former self and her “Lover” from decades ago. For myself as a young child, it was like hearing about people I’d never met, even though I understood that this was the story of my grandparents. It was a soul-hugging treat. And it made me love her even more, just watching her face flush with passion and her eyes spill over with tears as she read.

  After skimming over a few, I put the letters back, shoving them into their place underneath the pictures, when my hand brushed another rubber band. Another bundle of letters? I pulled it out and realized I had never seen them before. The handwriting was certainly different. I searched the envelopes for a return address, but none of them had one. I looked at the dates and postmarks. They were much more recent than the thirties. They were all stacked in order…starting about six years ago. That was the year that Lewis and Harry split the Heart family in half. Broken and bloodied forever, it had never healed and probably never would. I kept studying the bundle. All had the same handwriting. All had no return address. The author of these letters had purposely left it off. But why? I wondered. I felt that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  I sat there unsure of my next move. Did I intrude into my grandmother’s privacy? She had never shown me these letters before. Maybe that had been on purpose—maybe she didn’t want me to know. My natural curiosity—or nosiness—was wrenching at me, squeezing my breath away. Maybe there was a reason she didn’t want me to know. Maybe this information would hurt me or change my life. My heart raced, my mouth felt dry and sticky.

  I sifted through the letters and looked at the postmarks again. They were from out of town. Birmingham, Atlanta, even South America. My stomach clenched tighter and a lump formed in my throat. I thumbed the envelopes like a deck of cards. I felt flushed and hot. I fanned myself with the stack. Then, the rubber band broke.

  I sat still, staring at the scattered letters on the floor around me. No one would know if I peeked. No one but me….

  13

  November 30, 2006

  Dear Meridee,

  Thank you for the other night—the warm bed, the hot black coffee and the offer you made me. The Heart stories of you are true. You are the saint and savior of us. That’s what Grandad always said.

  I know you said you owed us after Granddad helped Frank years ago, but you really went over the top with your generous offer to help me. That amount should be enough for now. If I need the additional, I will let you know.

  Meridee, your faith in me is overwhelming. You are the only one who has faith in me at this point. I won’t let you down.

  In your debt,

  Lewis

  I felt as though I had the wind knocked out of me, as though I had fallen ten stories into a pool of dark water. My mind worked in a fury. What the hell had I found? Meridee helped Lewis all those years ago? Why would she? Why would he even go to her? I thought about it for a minute and I knew why. Meridee never turned anyone away. She took in anyone who needed her. That’s why her house became the headquarters to everyone and anyone. It was our Mission Control. Meridee could fix anything. Her kitchen always held comfort food and hot coffee…with a shot of good booze if needed. There were lots of empty beds, too, since everyone had grown up and moved away. And Meridee had a way of consoling even the most damaged broken soul. Just her presence meant all would be okay.

  But why did he go to her after the big blowup with Harry? She was my grandmother, after all, not Lewis’s or Harry’s. I knew I shouldn’t read another word. I’d promised myself I’d only read one letter. But this is evidence now, I reasoned. This could lead us to Lewis. I checked my watch. 8:10 p.m. Sonny had mentioned it would be at least 10:00 p.m. before they knew anything. I shuffled through to the next letter.

  December 5, 2006

  Hey Meridee,

  I know you said on the phone last night that you had arranged to have all the money wired through. I really appreciate that. But I met with my attorney this morning in Birmingham. I need to get them a retainer. It looks like my new address might be a 6x12—you know, prison—at least for a little while. It’s okay—I won’t be in with the murderers and gangsters. I’ll probably get sent to a white-collar place in Atlanta for the FCC violations and fraud with the advertising. Some stuff I don’t totally get but the lawyers here are the best. Anyway, I’ve gotta get them s
ome money pretty soon.

  Harry and Blake still haven’t spoken to me since all this came down. Maybe you could talk to Blake? Maybe you could get her to talk to Harry?

  Meridee, I’ve asked you for so much. I know you’ve said this is a long overdue gift, but I swear, one day, I’ll be here for you just when you need me. Let me know about the bank transfers. I left you all my info the other night.

  You are an angel!

  Lewis

  December 26, 2006

  Saint Meridee,

  The transfers all made it and to all the different accounts. That was a brilliant idea to split them up so nobody gets too crazy. It looks like I may need that extra we talked about before it’s over. I have to help get Mother resituated.

  Harry is trying to do it on his own with his share of the inheritance but Mother has become completely immobile. The crippling arthritis has hit her legs and the whole house has to be redone for her. Harry can’t do it without the share that I blew, and the Birmingham lawyers took a huge retainer. So if there’s any way, that extra money would really sew it all up.

  Either way, you are definitely a saint, just like Granddad always said.

  Hey, Merry Christmas! I still plan on making all this up to you some day. Thanks for still believing me.

  Love,

  Lewis

  January 22, 2007

  Dear Meridee,

  I’m glad we decided to communicate this way and not get anyone else involved. As you said, it’s no damn body’s business anyway. You are the most courageous woman I have ever met. All the final transfers arrived safe and secure. Thanks so much for the additional. The expense of this whole case is killer.