by Kieran York
“Don’t you want to look too?” Royce asked. “You’ve never rested in your life.”
“Just think of me as a connoisseur of romance. A love catalyst.”
“I’m not after random lovers. I have one.”
Gwen snorted playfully, “So take a goddamned fly-swatter along for protection.”
***
A flush of wind blended with the creek’s trickling moan. Royce bent to inspect the embankment’s silver gleams. She allowed the granulated flakes of speckled earth to sift through her fingers. A hummingbird startled Royce and Hertha. They shared a laugh and then their eyes viewed the stuttering bird as it hovered near a small clutch of eggs nested in a spruce. On the trunk of the spruce were bear claw markings. Royce wistfully considered the unending variety in wilderness. The woods were gentle, yet there was an underlying violence. Not unlike the human heart.
“Where we are now,” Royce spoke, “I’ll bet a Ute tribe once camped.”
“Probably. My people loved beauty. This is the kind of peaceful place where they would have felt a connection to earth. They cared for the land until it was confiscated from them. Maybe time will adjudicate.” Her light bronze face brooded for many moments, and then she reached to touch a columbine plant. “Let’s come back up here when it blooms. I love the delicacy of the columbine.”
“If campers and hikers don’t pick or mash it,” Royce muttered. “I guess I’m getting cynical. Sunday fun bunch angers me. Pitching trash all over. But I would like to see if the flower makes it.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Hertha broke the silence. “I get the impression that Gwen is trying to get us off together. I hope you don’t feel any pressure on my part. I know you’re with someone. I’m an introvert by nature. Not at all the home-wrecker type.”
Their eyes bridged. Hertha’s eyes were magnetic and her voice was warm. She entreated confidence. “Valeria and I don’t have a home to wreck. But I am monogamous.”
“You don’t plan to live together?”
“It wouldn’t work. It’s difficult with her being a teacher and my being a deputy.”
“Gwen and Nadine seem to be accepted by everyone in Timber City.”
“I suppose if the situation was right, and it wasn’t flaunted, it would be accepted.”
“Would you like that?”
“I’ve always admired what Gwen and Nadine share. And you?”
“I’m a nesting kind of person. Yes. I would very much like to share hearth and heart.”
“My profession is a factor. It isn’t a nine-to-five job.”
“My hours are difficult and demanding too.”
“I suppose some women object to my being in enforcement because it’s a tad more dangerous.” She wouldn’t mention the recent threat by Luther.
“Maybe the love of a woman would be the required incentive to keep you alive,” Hertha debated.
“Maybe.” Royce swallowed. Her speech felt hemmed in, yet she wanted to tell Hertha that her therapeutic philosophy made sense.
“I take it that Valeria accepts your line of work. Or perhaps she thinks you look good in uniform.”
Royce smiled at the gentle teasing. “I’m not sure. If you knew her, maybe you’d understand why I care for her. Gwen doesn’t like my being with Valeria, but she doesn’t know her.”
Standing, Hertha held out her hand to help Royce get up. “I do hope things work out for you. However you want them to work.”
“Thanks.” Royce dusted the dirt from her hand. As they walked, Royce spotted a huge phallic-shaped mushroom. “Will you look at that?” she said with a laugh.
“I’m not sure of the species, but I wouldn’t sit on it.”
Sputtering, Royce clamored, “I wouldn’t even want to go near it.” Laughter braided through the trail.
When they reached the car, Gwen rolled down the window. “What the hell’s so funny?” she inquired.
“You would have needed to be there,” Royce answered with a side-glance in Hertha’s direction.
“Hell’s bells,” Gwen grumbled. “I send you two down lover’s lane and you detour to the fun house.”
Chapter 16
“You certainly wouldn’t get a passing grade in attention if you were in my class,” Valeria declared. “I might as well not have invited you over after the parent-teacher meeting.”
“Sorry, hon.” Royce’s apology was empty. Valeria was completely sober because she’d just come from the evening meeting at school, and Royce was glad about that. Royce was weary, but she’d dashed to Valeria’s condo when called, without considering how grueling the day had been. Valeria’s amorous tone drew the deputy like a magnet. Royce watched as Valeria poured them each a glass of wine. “I guess it was a tough day. And after our loving shower, I’m getting too relaxed.”
Valeria kissed Royce’s lips. “When we talked on the phone last night you mentioned something about confronting Luther.”
Tenderly Royce brushed Valeria’s hair back from her shoulders. Kissing her neck, Royce eased Valeria onto the bed. “Maybe we could talk about Luther later. Maybe over morning coffee.”
“Don’t worry, nothing will dash my sparks tonight.” Valeria turned on her CD player and Whitney Houston’s "You Give Good Love" created a romantic mood under the dimmed pastel lighting. “So, go ahead and tell me about him.”
“I told you that Yancy made a reference to Trish’s sexual preference. Well, Luther has been spying and seems to know that my vehicle has been here. Often and overnight. My frail denial wouldn’t have done much good against his accusation.
There was so much animosity. I didn’t confirm nor deny, leaving him without any satisfaction. Then Jade asked me if I like women.”
“Without proof, it’s a rumor.” Valeria finished her glass of wine and poured another. “Luther has been aware that there must be more to the relationship between Trish and me. He suggested troilism to Trish.”
“What?”
“The three of us. A menage a trois. Trish just roared. I’m not exactly a sex amateur, but I didn’t have Luther in mind. That was right after I moved here, and Trish was still so stoned that it probably wouldn’t have mattered to her. When I insisted she cut out the drugs, she also totally cut out Luther. She told me that he was a dud in bed. Luther with his swaggering virility. What a joke.”
“He repulses me. I couldn’t stand to think about him touching you.”
“He hasn’t and he won’t.” Valeria glanced away. “You already know that I’ve been with men in my younger days.”
“Men in your past are one thing. Luther is another. I just want you to know that he’s been spying. Please be careful.”
“This county is a damned fishbowl. He knows that you’re trying to unnerve him. He’s just turning the table. Or trying to. He wants you frightened and intimidated. He wants you to drop your investigation. That’s what he’s really after.” Valeria snuggled to Royce’s shoulder. “I know that he killed Trish. You know how you’re always wanting to capture your father’s killer, for some personal revenge?”
“For his memory.”
“Well, baby, find Trish’s murderer for me.”
“If I keep turning up the heat under him, sooner or later he’ll make a mistake.” Slipping into Valeria’s embrace, Royce whispered, “I promise I’ll do everything I can to avenge both murders. What amazes me is that Yancy has to know something is amiss. Maybe it’s just routine for him to pick up after his kid brother. Clean the site or give him an alibi. We try not to see the obvious if there’s emotion involved. In the meantime, the two of them seem to be casting aspersions in our direction.”
“I’m not worried. Luther and his bare-knuckle tactics can’t stand any of this coming out. If he accused his wife of being lesbian, it would hardly perpetuate his masculine myth. No, he’ll huff and puff and then go on back to his corner. He’ll never admit in public that his wife loved another woman. Or that Trish was planning to leave him.”
“If she had left him, wou
ld you have left me and lived with her?”
“No. I wouldn’t relinquish my freedom for her. Or for anyone. I couldn’t give that much of myself,” she answered firmly. “Never again shall I give too much of myself.”
“Again?”
Valeria poured another glass of wine and edged the rim to Royce’s lips. “Royce, you’ve been a warm and willing bed partner. But I’m not doing any mea culpas, baby. What I do with my life is my business. I don’t answer to anyone. And I don’t tell all my secrets.” Her glance cast downward. “By the way, my honeysuckle, I want to take you to dinner on your birthday.”
“There’s going to be a party at the Bell Ringer. I’d like you to be there.”
“Not me,” she said blithely. “Those are not my people. But I want to be with you. I’ll take you to dinner the night before.”
“Fine. Dinner on Wednesday.”
“Oh, hell. Wednesday. No, I forgot. Can we make it Tuesday?”
“Got another date Wednesday?”
“Not a date. I’m seeing that woman from Denver Matchbox.”
“Mercedes. A new benefactor.”
Valeria swallowed her wine. “I’m warning you, Royce, don’t start with me.” She lurched up and her fist smashed the pillow. “Use the chivalric approach and drop the criticism.” She swung her willowy leg over the side of the bed. She poured more wine and drained her glass.
“I forget that you’re the love tech and I’m a follower. I’m only allowed to feel your eroticism.” Royce’s eyes burned. “You’ve made it clear you don’t want an exclusive kind of love.”
“I want to make love.”
“I think you want sex, not love.”
“Okay, let’s have sex until we have no heat left inside.” After several moments, Valeria pounded her pillow. “Royce, I do love you. If you want to make love, remember my love doesn’t come with stipulations. If you want to have sex, then be my guest.”
“It really doesn’t matter to you.”
Her body grazed Royce. “Come on, baby. Enjoy me.”
“Am I malleable or are you just a great manipulator?”
“I’m not manipulative, just resourceful.” Valeria’s voice was warm and soothing as she pulled Royce into the circle of her arms. “Now,” she murmured as her mouth began to path toward Royce’s breast, “I’m going through your red light. I’m going to disobey all your damned road signs.”
“The light just turned green.” Royce slid back, submitting.
“Curve ahead,” Valeria whispered. Her mouth became petal soft as it folded over Royce’s nipple. The sweetness and silkiness of Valeria’s skin against hers made Royce shiver. Valeria’s lips swarmed her body, hungrily and yet with a fragility. Valeria pressed her face against Royce’s mound. She uttered, “Mmm, slippery when wet.”
“Downhill steep grade,” Royce added. She felt her body being lifted to an orgasm. She wasn’t certain which of them, or if both of them, had connected to the offering. She thought about running every stop sign in the county. She whispered, “I want you.”
Royce was pulled onto Valeria’s twisting body. She was swept away by the spherical locomotion that was happening. Royce longed for the moments of glowing nearness she felt in Valeria’s arms. The tuck of their limbs, that anticipated braiding of their bodies, created a blaze in her heart.
Valeria lulled, “Baby, don’t obey the speed limit. Forget the yellow lines. Speed whenever; pass whenever,” she commanded.
Royce exceeded the speed limit and soon heard Valeria’s moan of ecstasy. “Baby,” she cried wildly, “I do love you. I do.”
Royce felt the latch of Valeria’s long legs around her torso. The lock of their bodies drove their orgasm. With a force of total abandon, they passionately loved until every ounce of motion was exhausted. Royce eased down until her head came to rest on Valeria’s shoulder. “Whew,” Royce expelled as her heart pounded and her lungs felt a post-orgasmic crush.
Valeria’s fingertips drifted through her lover’s hair. Kissing Royce’s face over and over, Valeria then asked, “No more road signs posted?”
“Not until my engine starts back up.” Royce felt her pulse pumping furiously.
“Baby, I’ve got the key to your ignition and I’ll provide all the fuel you’ll need.” Valeria’s arm reached for her glass. “So think up some new road signs.”
Royce turned her head toward the shadowy wall. She could think of only one. Enter at your own risk.
***
Royce lined up the lower board and began to pound in a finishing nail. Doing the carpentry work on the cabin’s newly constructed enclosed porch helped Royce to relax. She could lose herself in physical labor. Looking through the exposed window frame, she was distressed to see clouds crowding out the sunshine. The hummingbird feeder, with jewel-toned nectar, had been a busy stopping-over place. The swarming birds had now vacated the feeder. Royce watched as the feeder’s red canopy cover lifted with the wind.
After a crash of thunder, repeated strikes of lightning bounced across the mountainside. Within minutes, ribbons of rain poured. Smoky growled, leaping and attacking the air with each boom of thunder. Her ebony eyes snapped with each indignant bark. Elsa had retreated to her protected spot under Gran’s bed.
“Roycie,” Gran called, “better not be workin’ with those power tools. Lightning’s goin’ to town out there.”
Royce pulled the electrical cord and then leaned the window casing back against the wall. “It’s getting chilly out.” Royce shivered as she entered the warmth of the kitchen. “I should have it done in another week or two.”
“It’s gonna be mighty nice to be able to come out and get sunshine whenever.”
The faint smell of brewing tea reminded Royce that she’d forgotten to eat. She was glad that Gran had not forgotten, as she watched her pull a plate of stew from the oven.
“You get goin’ on a project and don’t wanna stop until it’s done. Or you drop,” said Dora Madison, placing the steaming stew in front of Royce. “I’ll bet you’re tired. I dropped off myself a bit ago. Then your mama called.”
“What did she have to say?”
“Asked me what you wanted for your birthday. Seems Hertha called Molly to find out. Sure is a nice young girl. I don’t believe for a minute that her brother killed anyone. And I told Yancy that too.”
Grinning as she reached for the teapot, Royce disclosed, “I’ll bet poor Yanc thinks it’s all in our family. Naturally he does think Ray is the killer. Or else he’s covering for Luther. Maybe he thinks Ray is the best candidate to take the fall.”
“I say horse feathers! I don’t think Yancy would purposely try and pin it on anyone. But his family is involved.”
“I’d like to prove that Luther killed Trish. Seems that everything is going in circles. Clues are more elusive than ever.” Royce pondered and then asked, “Gran, you know the old Miller place, where Dad was killed? You don’t happen to know who owns it, do you?”
“'Course I know.” Sitting back, she continued, “We do. I thought Molly probably told you. Guess she still won’t talk about anything to do with it. The land is so small that it isn’t worth anything to speak of. Your grandpa could never leave a bargain alone. Bought it at a land auction thirty years ago. Always said he wanted to leave a couple of chunks of property to his grandkids. I ’spect after your daddy died and you became twenty-one it went into your name.”
Royce fumbled for questions. “Was that why Dad went up there the night he was killed? He was checking on his property?”
“Can’t say. There’s only an old shed up there. Guess there was talk that drug dealings were goin’ on. I can’t rightly say why your daddy went. Maybe there was some kinda disturbance.”
“Was there anything over the dispatch? Did he call for backup?”
“Don’t believe so. I just always figured he was out patrolling the area and come upon something.”
“I wish I could fit all this into some pattern.”
“You’l
l get onto it. Your daddy used to say to make your tracks careful, makin’ sure you know your way back. Then you can go about anywhere you please.”
“I’m trying to figure out where it is I’m going.” Royce watched as Elsa entered the room, arched her back, and took her place on the rocking chair cushion. “People who commit crime have a decided edge. They know where they’ve been and where they’re going.”
“What do you think I should tell your mama?”
“What?”
“About what she can tell Hertha.”
“Right now all I want is to keep her brother from going to prison for a crime he didn’t commit.”
“I don’t think that’s the answer Molly was after.”
“Gran, are you sure you can’t think of anything Dad might have said before he was killed? Anything he said about going out to the Miller place?”
“No.” Gran’s eyes became restless. “You aren’t gonna quit until you find out?”
“I can’t quit.” Royce took a final forkful of stew and a sip of tea. “Guess I’d better get showered and go to work tonight. With this storm, it’s bound to be busy.”
“You still haven’t answered my question about a birthday gift.”
Royce stood and leaned over her grandmother. “I want answers and I want them now,” she said with a chuckle. She kissed Gran’s cheek. There was a sudden and sullen sadness about her addendum. It was issued with a tinge of helplessness. “And I want this storm to end.”
“Royce, storms don’t last forever. And anybody worth a hoot can wait out a storm.”
Chapter 17
Blue shadows tucked between the surgery table and an examination table. Hertha’s sigh was a barely audible moan. “I could have saved him. Given him a couple more years. Now I’ve got to explain to three small children that their beloved pet didn’t make it.” Hertha’s eyes were bitter. “Royce, I have the skill and knowledge. I’m lacking equipment. The technology is out there.”
Royce watched as Hertha’s eyes magnified with tears. Automatically, Royce’s arms circled the vet and pulled Hertha into her embrace of comfort. “You did the best you could. There wasn’t any more you could have done without the right equipment.”
