Nobody Loves a Bigfoot Like a Bigfoot Babe

by Simon Okill

  Duane shrugged an apology for he was so easily duped by one of the sisters pretending to be the other one. It was impossible to know which one was which because they truly were identical twins. But he didn't mind being duped, for it only added to the sexual experience.

  Sadly though, last night he'd had too much to drink and when Annie told him of his mistake, he just didn't have the energy or the inclination to do her. The real reason for his guilt-though he never made it obvious to the sisters-was that he had a softer spot in his heart for Annie than for Heidi. Annie was more easy-going, not unlike himself.

  Heidi liked to boss him around, probably because she was in law enforcement. She often liked to tell him exactly what to do while lovemaking, which gave Duane the feeling of being a love monkey. That's why he could be fooled by the sisters-they knew each other's little preferences so well they could switch whenever they felt like it, leaving poor Duane none the wiser.

  Duane dreaded the day when he'd have to choose between them. He hoped that day would never come.

  Annie gave his groin a light squeeze then stood up. "I know you'll make it up to me next time, hon. My bed is always waiting for you. And my heart just yearns for you, Duane, my wondrous Bigfoot boy."

  Duane smiled affectionately, despite knowing that Annie's bed wasn't just waiting for him, nor did her heart just yearn for him. Sad to say, but eligible men were in short supply, and Annie liked to play the field, as did her sister.

  "What would I do without you, Annie?" He smiled that amiable smile of his.

  "You'd do alright . . . you always do." Annie's face went serious, "Last night I dreamt Willis came back to town just for me." She looked a little sad. "I would've done anything for that guy, but he never cared for me. I'm glad he left the way he did . . . for it sure knocked him right outta my heart."

  Duane thought about his best friend-the town's all-American hero, who had had every girl's heart fluttering after him. He gave a sad sigh.

  "You have such a big heart Annie . . . I'd like to bury my face in it."

  Annie gave another sigh as she kissed Duane's forehead. She almost choked on his body stench.

  "I don't want to hurt your feelings, hon . . . but you stink real bad. Why didn't you let us give you a scrub down last night?"

  Duane shrugged, sniffing his armpits, "I don't think I smell that bad."

  "Believe me, hon . . . you're ripe!"

  Annie glanced over to the counter where the deputies were finishing off their excessively large breakfasts, which in all probability would render them useless for the rest of the day. Good job nothing ever happened in Big Beaver. She looked back at Duane and blew him a kiss as she sauntered off.

  Duane grinned and caught the kiss. He kept an eager eye on Annie's curvaceous hips and rump as she sauntered from table to table, topping up empty coffee mugs. He sighed with contentment and thought life was pretty damned good. He had a nice comfortable home. He had a very healthy bank balance.

  In fact, he was the most loaded bachelor in Big Beaver, having inherited a small fortune from a distant relative, proving that fairytale dreams do happen. But the most important things in Duane's view were his good friends and an ample supply of booty call. What more in life was there?

  Duane gave another contented sigh as he took a sip of coffee. He closed his eyes for a moment then opened them slowly. He felt relaxed. He had a nice warm feeling in his tummy and not just because he'd eaten his fill. His only concern at that moment was that he had something important to do in town, and for the life of him, he couldn't remember what it was.

  Duane's attention was drawn away from Annie and the deputies when Noreen came into the diner in a rush. He watched her make a beeline over to the deputies.

  She stopped by twin deputies Bill and Will.

  They were both chubby with rosy faces. Both were twenty-nine years old. That's where the similarities ended. Bill was a good six inches taller with short curly blond hair. Will was six inches shorter with a blond buzz cut. When they were born, their parents named them both William. Don't ask.

  Duane was mildly curious what Noreen said to the two deputies. Perhaps it had something to do with him, he wondered. Perhaps they'd had the DNA results back from Sacramento? Not that the results would tell them anything. He made absolutely sure he had thoroughly contaminated the evidence.

  "Why me?" Deputy Bill pleaded, in a high -pitched, feminine voice.

  Everyone in the diner turned to look at the deputy.

  More sniggers drifted from Chuck and Bob.

  Deputy Bill whirled around and glared at the hunters with a hurt look on his chubby face.

  Duane listened in. He guessed that Lou wanted Deputy Bill to do something, something that didn't involve eating. How could Lou be so mean on Dwight's birthday? It crossed Duane's mind that he should go over to Deputy Dwight to wish him a happy birthday. He thought about it some more, casually scratching his butt, and decided he'd sip his coffee instead and just sit quietly at his table until he was ready to make a move to do that all-important thing.

  Ah, home sweet home, Duane mused. Still scratching his butt, he thought of his log cabin in the woods, where life was perfectly peaceful, where he could enjoy the serenity of nature and his own easy-going company. There was just one thing wrong with that scenario-his best friend Willis wasn't a part of his life anymore. Thirteen years it had been. He really needed to see him for there was something important they had to discuss, something so important that he couldn't think what the fuck it was.

  5

  AS SHERIFF LOU was en route to Little Beaver, and Duane was having his breakfast, two FBI agents sat on a red leather sofa in the outer office of the Sacramento Bureau shrink, Doctor Ramón Fernandez, awaiting his arrival.

  Agent Candice Merlot, a stunning African-American in her late twenties, scrutinized the contents of a magazine. She casually twisted a finger around a stray curl of her fashionably straightened hair. She was not overly tall, but she sure made up for that with her lithe, muscular body that fit snugly into her gray suit.

  Sometimes she liked to be just Merlot, and like the wine, she was smooth, lively on the tongue and full of velvety textures that lingered well beyond the first tantalizing sip. As Candi, she liked to be slowly unwrapped and savored for her sweet taste, something she had picked up during her modeling days for Sports Illustrated. She adored Latin American music, loved to salsa and liked her food spicy-the hotter the better. But, most of all, Agent Merlot liked the guys and the guys sure liked her.

  Merlot glanced at her partner, Agent Willis Johnson. He was a few years older, taller and fit looking, with a lean, somewhat chiseled, but attractive face with short auburn hair. She knew he never missed his daily work outs. That he never ate anything unhealthy. He ate tons of fiber. He liked country and western music, and as for the ladies, well, only Agent Johnson knew what he liked. He would never kiss and tell, keeping everything bottled up, which was the reason they were waiting for the shrink.

  They sat together on the long comfy sofa, but at either end, as far apart as possible. Agent Merlot looked casual with legs crossed while Agent Johnson sat straight-backed, serious-faced and looked uptight.

  Merlot glanced at her wristwatch and noted the time. She scrutinized her taciturn partner. Ten minutes had elapsed since they had entered Doctor Fernandez's cozy outer office. Neither had spoken a word to one another in all that time. That was just how Agent Johnson liked it these days—as silent as Clint Eastwood in a spaghetti western.

  The small fan on the black desk at their feet gently oscillated, thus providing a therapeutic white noise that made the silence bearable, thought Merlot. She guessed it had been intentionally left switched on by the good doctor.

  Merlot cast a familiar eye around the very feminine outer office. Normally she would have concluded the shrink was on the same team, but she knew better, as did all her female colleagues. Pink was the order of the day to match the flaming red sofa. Both colors were used deliberately to elicit a
response. There were three scatter cushions on the sofa, but one was now being throttled in the vice-like grip of Agent Johnson's clenched hands.

  The door of the outer office opened and in walked Doctor Ramón Fernandez. Wow!

  Merlot stared at the man of her dreams. Ramón was a gorgeous Latin American in his early thirties. His shining black hair, dark brown eyes and olive skin were perfectly encased within the confines of his dark gray suit that seemed to Merlot to be a size too small. She ogled his tight buttocks and muscular thighs as he walked past her.

  Merlot stared agog at the breathtaking sight before her, licking her lips suggestively. Way too sexy for a shrink, she thought. She shifted on the sofa as her juices started to flow. She had nicknamed Ramón "Doctor Sluice" and had been severely reprimanded by her anal boss and Agent Johnson for blurting it out on occasion.

  "Agents," Doctor Fernandez said, nodding as he entered his private domain.

  Merlot looked for approval from her partner. She got nothing but an icy glare. She nodded her head with dismay and entered the consultation room.

  Agent Johnson sighed heavily and jumped from the sofa like a coiled spring. He followed Merlot into the office and slammed the door.

  MERLOT RECALLED THE FIRST TIME she'd been in Doctor Fernandez's consultation room which was even cozier than the outer office. Pale blue was the order of the day with dark blue chenille armchairs. The walls were festooned with Doctor Fernandez's psychiatric accomplishments. On his desk was a computer and photos of his family-no wife.

  Merlot was there to explain her partner's condition. She informed the shrink that they'd been partners for nearly a year and a good friendship had grown between them. Without warning, he had gone completely insane. He had become distant and offensive. And not just to her, but to other FBI agents as well. The once super-cool Agent Johnson had become easy to provoke into bouts of anger. On two occasions, he had warned Merlot to shut her big mouth. And on more occasions than that, Agent Tightass had used very insulting comments to describe Agent Merlot's happy-go-lucky attitude. There had also been several complaints of civilian harassment aimed at Agent Johnson.

  During this initial consultation, Doctor Fernandez asked Merlot a lot of personal questions about her partner. Was he seeing someone?—don't know. Was he regular?-don't know. Was he sleeping?—don't know. Have you had a sexual relationship with Willis?—that's sick . . . he was more like a brother to her.

  It was soon established that Agent Merlot knew nothing about her partner. But Merlot did however tell Doctor Fernandez that she suspected whatever was troubling Johnson had something to do with his home town, and perhaps a certain woman residing there.

  Merlot recalled removing a folded magazine page from her jacket pocket and handing it to Doctor Fernandez. The picture displayed Annie Bumgardner in all her luscious glory. The mention of the home town caused Merlot to erupt into laughter throughout the consultation. Apparently, in an interview, Annie mentioned how her heart had been broken by a certain young man who had left town unexpectedly, the upshot of which was she was prompted to up and leave Big Beaver as well to pursue a modeling career.

  Agent Merlot also recalled her partner receiving a letter from Big Beaver. After reading it, he went berserk and had been that way ever since. She couldn't be absolutely sure Annie was the reason for her partner's troubles, as he was so tight-lipped on the subject.

  Merlot snapped out of her recollection as Doctor Fernandez sat in his armchair opposite her and deliberately sat with legs apart, revealing a sizeable piece of luggage. Merlot shifted uncomfortably in her armchair as south of the border became activated at the sight of such good wood—mature hard mahogany on her woodometer scale.

  She cleared her throat and smiled at the stunning Doctor Ramón who had obviously noticed the effect he was having on her by the increased bulge between his legs. Merlot gazed into his luscious eyes with a look of wanton abandon. She decided to be the first to speak-no choice really.

  "I forgive you for calling me a puck bunny and a twinkie, Agent Johnson," she said in a friendly tone of voice.

  Agent Johnson remained silent, his expression grimly serious. His jaw muscles were clenched so tight Merlot could hear his teeth grinding.

  She thought that if her partner wasn't careful the Bureau would insist he took more than just counseling-a prolonged leave of absence. Merlot didn't want that to happen. She would have to break in a new partner.

  "Don't suppose I can buy you a coffee later?" Merlot offered.

  No reply from her anal partner.

  Merlot shrugged. What more could she do? She returned her attention to the awesome Dr. Ramón. He sure was a gorgeous specimen of hardwood. She wavered as the doctor shifted to accommodate his erection. Merlot was surely gratified.

  "Sorry I'm late," Ramón casually offered. He smiled just for Merlot. "Good morning, agents." He averted his gaze from Merlot's overtly intense sexual come-on look.

  Merlot knew from that moment that her luck was in. She smiled ever so briefly, licking her red lips with a tongue that begged for more. She wondered if he had any tan lines. Her fervent imagination ran riot with thoughts of the exquisite Ramón lying naked on a beach while she massaged sun lotion into the glorious skin of his firm buns.

  Doctor Fernandez gave a warning cough.

  Merlot apologized with a furtive smile and settled back into her chair, looking serious.

  "Good morning to you, Doctor Fernandez."

  "You can call me Ramón, if you wish."

  "Ramón it is then." The female agent knew beyond all doubt Ramón wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  Ramón focused his attention on the dour Agent Johnson. He pursed his full lips in thought.

  "Don't you think it's a good morning, Agent Johnson?"

  Agent Johnson seemed immune to the doctor's charm. His expression remained serious. He didn't speak right away, rather allowing the silence to maintain his serious stance.

  "What's so good about it? It's just another shitty morning like any other shitty morning." Agent Johnson scowled with menace.

  "I see," the good doctor said, with eyebrows raised. "Well now, what do you want us to talk about, Agent Johnson, or can I call you Willis?"

  Willis fixed the doctor with a steely look, "Whatever. Can I go now?" He started to get up.

  "No you cannot, Willis." Ramón pointed to Willis' chair to remain seated.

  "Quack," Willis whispered under his breath as he sat back down.

  Merlot's eyes almost popped out of their sockets, thinking now you've done it, Agent Tightass.

  Ramón had good hearing, apparently. "I heard that."

  Willis shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't care.

  Ramón persisted with the good doctor routine. "Come, come, Willis, something is bugging you. You want to know what I think is the root cause of your sudden behavior?"

  Willis didn't reply. He looked around the room seemingly uninterested.

  Merlot gave her partner a concerned look.

  "I think your hometown of Big Beaver has a lot to do with what's troubling you, and perhaps you still hold a torch for an old girlfriend there. Am I right about the letter you received two months ago?" Dr Fernandez waited for a reply with an expectant look.

  Merlot bit her hand to stop the giggles as Big Beaver filled her mind with images of trim. Those thoughts soon vanished as she imagined Ramón's luscious lips pleasuring her.

  Willis narrowed his eyes and turned his attention upon his partner, "Bitch! Trust you to put two and two together, and come up with nothing."

  "Prick!"

  "Okay girls, that's quite enough." Ramón started to write something out on a notepad.

  Willis stood and was about to leave.

  Ramón lifted a finger to halt Willis. "I haven't finished." He ripped off a sheet from the notepad and handed it to Willis. "Your prescription, and adhere to it or you will be placed on suspension."

  Willis snatched the piece of paper from Ramón's hand witho
ut reading it and left the office.

  Merlot waited in her armchair for Ramón to declare his undying love for her.

  The gorgeous doctor gave Merlot an inquisitive look, "Is there anything more, Agent Merlot?" He smiled.

  Oh yes, there was more, but Merlot knew now was not the time.

  6

  SHERIFF LOU LISTENED to nature's masterpiece filling the air with a mix of blue jays, mountain chickadees, yellow-headed and red-winged blackbirds. The pleasing symphony soothed her hangover. She smiled as she heard a red fox yelping, a bobcat yowling and the distinct bugling of an elk. The calls reminded her of why she never moved away from Big Beaver.

  Chad pointed to the tree where Beau had taken a piss.

  Lou carefully walked around the tree and noticed several different kinds of sneaker prints in the dry earth at the base of the trunk and what looked like deer print or some other large mammal.

  "Let's see your sneakers, Chad."

  Chad looked down at his sneakers and lifted a foot for Lou to take a closer look.

  "Stop being a dufus, Chad. Take one of them off so I can get a close look."

  Chad shrugged as he removed his right sneaker and handed it to Lou, hopping on his left foot.

  "We kinda thought Beau might still be here . . . you know, like hiding from us, like he often does."

  Lou placed a sneaker carefully over a print. It matched, but the other prints had to be Beau's and the other teenagers' as the tread marks were different. She sniffed the sneaker in her hand and wished she hadn't. Her nostrils detected the strong smell of animal musk that pervaded the surrounding area. She coughed.

  "Smells like some animal's been marking its territory," Lou said with watery eyes.

  Chad held his nose as he took the sneaker from Lou's hand.

  "Jeez . . . that smells real gross, like skunk and cooked grizzly turds," he said as he slipped on his sneaker.