“Good point. So where are mine?” She took hold of his arm, and they headed for the motel.
“So,” she said, “this is where the rubber meets the road.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Do you really love me?” They were settled inside Wylie’s room, and Kennedy sat on the bed.
“Yes, Kennedy, I really do. I have never said those words to a woman before, and it actually shocks me a little to say them now. But I mean them. Why?”
“No money.”
“What?”
“No money.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m as poor as a church mouse.”
“Until the estate is settled.”
She laughed. “There is no estate. There is no money. James lost it all.” She hesitated to watch his reaction, but she was disappointed that he didn’t seem to have one. “So do you still love me?”
Wylie shook his head. He was definitely baffled. “Huh?”
“Yes, spoken like a man of letters.” She laughed again.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “And God is in the details, so how about some?”
“The devil is in the details, my darling. And so it goes. Like the money. You see, James was PJ’s friend as well as his lawyer. Now James is a nice man, but not the sharpest knife in the drawer. He invested PJ’s money for him and lost it. All of it. Probably to a con or a Ponzi scheme or something like that.”
“You have to be kidding.”
“’Fraid not. There is no money.”
“You already said that.”
“Do you care?” she asked.
“For me? No. For you? Do you care?”
“Not really. Oh, I wanted to buy Mama some nice things and fix up her house, but I was fine before and I’m fine now. “
It all sank in. “So people have been murdered, presumably for PJ’s estate, and there isn’t one. Talk about irony.”
A crack of thunder made them both jump. Wylie laughed at the sound.
“What’s so funny?”
“Pathetic fallacy. Foreshadowing. It’s a literary thing. The storm. It’s like nature giving us a warning of things to come.”
“That’s nice. Encouraging. So what should we do about it?”
“Ride it out.”
Lightning flashed, filling the room with an eerie light; the thunder crashed behind it. The smell of ozone filled the air. Wylie spun her to him and kissed her. He probed and explored with his tongue, and she groaned, matching her passion to his. He unbuttoned her blouse as the lightning flashed again. She threw her head back, giving him full access to her throat as he unfastened her bra.
Her hands worked his belt and the button on his jeans, unzipping and feeling for the heat of him. She pushed his pants down, and he helped her rid himself of the confining clothing. Then he lifted her skirt and knelt down to worship the dark triangle between her legs. She moaned as his mouth moved into her most sensitive parts, and, after only a moment, she reached down and pulled him up. She took her turn, kneeling and taking him full in her mouth. Then he lifted her and moved her onto the bed. He slid inside the welcoming wet cocoon, and she cried out as the thunder cracked. They both reached release, and the raging storm intensified the exquisiteness of the moment.
“That was amazing,” Wylie whispered after a while. “But then it’s always amazing with you. Your skin, your scent, everything about you makes it difficult for me to concentrate on anything else when I’m around you.”
“Are you getting a little obsessed, Mr. Nichols?”
“More than that. I want to immerse myself in you every day for the rest of my life.”
“That sounds perilously close to a proposal.”
“Maybe because it actually is one. I want to marry you, Kennedy.”
She was speechless. Her thoughts were a maelstrom of confusion.
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“A yes. Oh my God. It’s a yes.” She threw her arms around him and kissed his cheeks, his lips, his chin, his eyelids, and his lips again, laughing with pure joy.
“I just have one question.”
“What?” She was suspicious and suddenly afraid he was going pop to her bubble of happiness.
“Why don’t you wear panties?”
She laughed with utter abandon. “I do.”
“You’ve never worn them with me.”
“And that would be the operative phrase. With you.”
“You little hussy.”
“Yes, and you should consider yourself a very lucky man.
“Oh, I do. Believe me, I do.”
Kennedy was on cloud nine. She wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
“…Abilene and maybe have some dinner afterward.”
“What?” She had been so excited, she hadn’t heard a word Wylie said.
He grinned at her. “You back with me now?”
She grinned sheepishly. “I am.”
“OK, so what I was saying was there isn’t a decent jewelry store in this town, so I thought we might go to Abilene and find something you like and maybe have dinner after.”
“Jewelry store?” Kennedy was confused.
“Engagement ring?” he said as if he were talking to someone from another planet. “Getting married? Need ring. Earth to Kennedy.”
“What? Really?”
“Of course. I haven’t done this before, so I think we should do it by the rule book. You know, pick out ring, down on one knee? Yes?”
“Yes! Yes! But we have to do something first.”
“What? A woman who puts something ahead of buying jewelry?”
“Stop teasing. I have to try and clear this up. I’m sure if I give him the knife and tell him about the money, it’ll change everything.”
“Let’s hope so. It sure won’t hurt. And it won’t be a bad idea to ask him if it’s OK for us to leave town to go to Abilene. That is, we’ll ask him tomorrow. Right now I have something else in mind.”
Kennedy was fastening her skirt and grinning. “I am hungry. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungry. How about you?”
“I could eat,” he wiggled his eyebrows.
Wylie poured them each a shot of Jack. They drank slowly. Then he leaned over and kissed her. He explored her mouth with his lips and tongue, and then he went to her throat. He kissed her cheeks, her eyes, and her mouth again.
His hand slid to the buttons of her blouse and opened them one by one, pausing to kiss each inch of soft creamy flesh as it was revealed to him.
“Didn’t we just do this?” Kennedy asked coyly.
“I can’t remember,” Wylie answered. “I think we better do it again just to make sure.”
He reached behind her, and the lacy bra came free, exposing her beautiful, perfectly formed breasts. Wylie pushed her back on the bed and took hold of both her hands with one of his, pinning them above her head. She didn’t struggle, but arched her back in anticipation of what was to come.
With his free hand, he unzipped her skirt and pushed it down over her ankles and onto the floor. No panties. His manhood saluted her for that. He nipped at her belly, her arms, and her throat. He used his tongue to make damp swirls across her abdomen. He took a nipple between his teeth and skimmed it with the edges. He bit down, just hard enough. She jumped at the effect.
Then he was on between her thighs at the juncture, and when she groaned with need, he moved higher. He pushed her legs apart and buried his face in the center of paradise, seeking the hard little knot of pleasure. He sucked on it until it hardened and then disappeared, a signal she was ready to explode. Then he stopped as she hovered on the brink, in an agony of frustration.
He laughed deep in his chest. “What do you want?”
“Oh my God…more…I want more.”
“More of what?” He was tormenting her.
“You. I want you.”
“And what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to fuck me. Fuck me until I can’t think. Fuck me unti
l I burst into little pieces from the sheer pleasure of it.” She was breathless with need.
“Oh, all right then.” He released himself from his pants and shoved them out of the way and onto the floor. Then, with agonized slowness, he entered her, pulsating, pushing until she screamed her release and his body convulsed with his own.
It was later, when the passion had temporarily been sated, that Kennedy decided the time was right. “We need to go to the grotto.”
“OK…?”
“I hid the knife there.”
“Why there?” Wylie asked.
“I don’t know. It just seemed like the safest place.” She could tell from Wylie’s expression it would not have been his choice.
He shrugged. “Then let’s get it and turn it over to Miller. Maybe it can prove that we had nothing to do with this mess.”
* * *
Miller said good-bye to Dr. Michael, hung up, and sat there deep in thought. The lab report was not very satisfying. Delie’s blood was on the knife Kennedy had brought him. There were traces of PJ’s as well. Whoever had cleaned it after the murders seemed to have intentionally done a bad job removing the blood. There were no fingerprints though. That would be too easy. According to Wylie, it was Sweet who put the knife in Wylie’s motel room. If Miller believed that, it could mean Sweet was the killer. Which didn’t make sense. If he was the perp, why would someone kill him? Unless someone got Sweet to plant the knife. He would do anything for the right price. Everyone knew that. That would mean Sweet could blackmail the real killer. Reason enough to want of get rid of him. So who was behind all this? Who had enough reason to murder? What was there to gain? Money from PJ? That made Kennedy and Dolores likely suspects. But they were both small women. Michael said if a woman had stabbed Delie or hit Sweet, she had to be strong. Really strong. And incredibly bloodthirsty.
His thoughts rolled over in each other, desperately hoping an answer would jump out and solve these murders for him. He was so lost in thought he didn’t hear the office door open and close. He was startled when Freddie came to rest in front of his desk and cleared his throat.
“Yes, Mayor?” Miller was less than thrilled to see the other man. Freddie was an obnoxious, overbearing bully. His wife, Ruby, was obviously cowed, as was Delie. Dolores, on the other hand, appeared to worship the ground he walked on. Maybe she was just so desperate for a father, she’d take anything.
Freddie had been the mayor for what seemed like a hundred years. Miller wasn’t sure if no one else actually wanted the job or they were afraid to challenge Freddie for it. Luckily Snakewater pretty much ran itself. People paid their taxes and minded their own business. It was a typical small town and, until lately, pretty much crime-free. What had changed?
“I was waiting for you to come to me. I am the mayor, and this is my town. Or did you forget that? But it seems you’re much too busy solving these murders,” Freddie said sarcastically. “So have you been?”
“Been what?”
“Crime solving,” Freddie repeated, exasperated. “Three people are dead in my town, and I want some answers. Does it occur to you one of my girls was a victim? I have a personal stake in this.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Work harder! Do you have anything?”
“I have the weapon that killed PJ and Delie.”
“And?”
“Look, Freddie, I would love nothing more than to solve these murders. But it’s not like on TV. You can’t just wrap it up in sixty minutes. I have a murder weapon, I have some forensic evidence, but I have nothing that will hold up in court.”
“What kind of evidence?”
“Blood on the knife. The victims’ blood.”
“Fingerprints?
“No. But knowing it’s the murder weapon should help.”
“What about motive? I can think of one person in particular who had reasons to want to see people dead.”
“Like?”
“Kennedy!”
“Do you really think she’s responsible? That she’s capable of killing three people?” Miller asked.
“That girl was guilty from the first breath she ever drew. I would certainly consider her a suspect. Now I’m not accusing anyone. I just want to get the truth and make my town safe again.”
“Me too.”
“Well, you better get on it. Because if you can’t do your job, we might have to put someone in this office who can.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You’re welcome.” Freddie turned and walked out.
Once he was gone, Miller had to wonder why Freddie was so anxious to blame Kennedy. He had always wondered about that relationship. She acted as if he were poison, and he treated her as though he were carrying a grudge. Freddie was sleazy, and something about him was totally disreputable. But did Miller really want to know what that was? The whole family was screwed up. That is, all except for Martha. Not that she was exactly family.
CHAPTER NINE
The plan was a good one. She had thought it out carefully and then watched Kennedy, waiting patiently for a long time. Humans were predictable and, for the most part, not suspicious, so it was easy to figure out where she would be at almost any given time, how long she would stay, and how much time it would take to get from one place to another.
The storm had threatened as they watched her go into Wylie’s room. She knew Kennedy would be there a while. If anything were to happen while Kennedy was with him, no one would believe she was innocent, since the only corroborating witness would be her lover.
They backtracked a ways toward Kennedy’s house. They each glanced around, making sure no one was nearby. Heaving identical sighs of relief, they got out of the car. The wind whipped around them, feeding the anticipation.
“Will you be OK to walk in the storm?”
“It’ll look even better if I do. Just make sure it’s not too deep, so I don’t lose too much blood. The object is for show, not for me to actually die. Do it in exactly the same place as Weir.”
“I got it. We’ve been over this a dozen times.”
“Good. OK, I’m ready.”
“It’s gonna hurt some.”
“I know, I know. Just do it.”
Thunder boomed. The scream rang at the same time. The blade penetrated just enough to bleed, but not damage anything vital. Perfect.
Dolores stormed into the sheriff’s office. “I need help.” Miller looked up. Blood stained the front of her clothes. He jumped up to help her. “She tried to kill me too.”
“Dolores? What happened?” He took hold of her good arm. She actually felt faint.
“She stabbed me. I’m dying,” she wailed.
Miller led her to the chair opposite his desk and tore the fabric of her blouse away from the wound. He went into the bathroom and came back with a clean white towel, which he applied to the wound. “Here, keep some pressure on it to stop the bleeding.”
Dolores did what he told her, sobbing and keening the entire time.
“OK, now tell me exactly what happened. And when.”
“Kennedy,” Dolores sniffed. “She tried to kill me. Just a little while ago. I was just trying to talk to her, and she pulled a knife and stabbed me. Thank God I was quick enough and she missed my heart.”
“OK, then what happened?” he said.
“What do you mean what happened? I told you. She tried to kill me.”
“I mean after she stabbed you. What did she do?”
“I guess she thought she finished the job or maybe she just got scared. Anyway, she ran away.”
“Where was this?”
“Between her house and the motel. On the road. I was going to talk to her and see if we could, you know, try to get along. And this is how she repays me. You need to arrest her, Miller. Before she tries it again. I’m scared. I just know she wants me dead like the others.”
“What reason does she have to hurt you?” Miller asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Dolore
s sneered. “If I’m dead, she gets all the money from PJ’s will. She’s always been a jealous little bitch, and now she wants it all.”
Miller nodded. “I’ll go talk to her.”
“Talk to her?” Dolores screeched. “You need to arrest her and put her away. She’s dangerous. She tried to kill me! She stabbed me in the exact same place she stabbed Weir. Same shoulder, right in the curve. Doesn’t that prove she’s guilty?”
“Dolores, calm down. I will take care of it. Now let me see that wound.”
Miller probed at the injury as Dolores registered her protests. “Well, it’s not so deep. I think a little soap and water and a clean bandage should hold you. Unless you want to go to Abilene and have it stitched. I don’t think it needs it, though.”
“OK.” She was sniffing again. “Whatever you think. Can you help me clean it up? I got no one else to help me, you know. My sister is dead, and my mother…well, she’s been drinking.” She tried to sound pathetic.
He finished taping the cotton pad. “So you’re sure it was Kennedy who did this to you?”
“Of course, I’m sure,” she declared, trying to sound offended.
“Well, the reason I ask is…you made a point of telling me you were stabbed in the exact same place as Weir. You even described the spot in detail. It strikes me as odd, is all.”
Dolores paused and chewed her lower lip. “Well, I heard she cut him in the shoulder. I just assumed it was the same.”
“Really? Because you sure sounded positive it was exactly the same when you said it.”
“Well, was I right?” Dolores had made a rookie mistake. She bit down on her back teeth. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.
“As a matter of fact, you were. It does strike me as convenient though.”
“Convenient?” Dolores shrieked. “That she tried to kill me?”
“Dolores, there was a storm, and it was dark. Could it be that you were mistaken?”
“And could it be you would defend that slut no matter what?”
“Why would I do that? I’m an officer of the law, and if someone is guilty of something, it’s my job to see him or her brought to justice. No matter who that someone is.”
Texas Summer Page 12
