by Simon Okill
Willis stared at her, poker-faced and without saying a word. Though beneath the regulation serious façade, he was getting more turned on by the minute. He ached for her, but couldn't let her see that.
"Oops . . . naughty me, I've been drinking," she hiccupped.
Yeah, I can see that, thought Willis.
She looked from Willis' stern face back at the bed and sashayed over to it. She fell backwards with sexual abandonment, stretching out fully, resting her head on the pillow. She licked her full lips seductively as she looked up at him.
"I want you, right now."
Willis could feel his pulse rate go up several more notches. His light blue eyes looked at her with wanton desire. But he didn't make a move in her direction. He stood as motionless as a rock. His expression was serious. He wondered if his boner was showing. He slowly approached the bed.
Lou smiled seductively at him as she fondled her breasts and writhed with wanton abandon.
A voice inside him told Willis not to go any further. For one thing, it would complicate the investigation-those damned pesky regulations again. And there was also the fact that Lou had had too much to drink. He didn't want to take advantage of her, for that too would complicate things. He felt sure that if they had sex right now, when she'd sobered up in the morning, she'd really regret what she'd done. And hate him even more for taking advantage of her while she was drunk, even though she was the instigator. What a dilemma!
Willis sighed heavily and reached out for her hand. "Come on Lou, enough's enough."
But as he reached out to her, Lou completely caught him off-guard. She grabbed his hand and gave a forceful tug, pulling him onto the bed next to her. She ran her fingertips through his hair.
He tried to get off the bed but she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. He could feel her slender body rubbing against his. He sighed as she quickly found his erection.
Lou giggled, "That's my Willis . . . hard as a rock." She pulled him to her and kissed him hard on the lips.
The rush was just like that first kiss, all those years ago. Willis couldn't help it as her tongue found his, but then those regulations kicked in. He desperately tried to pull away.
Lou loosened her hold of him, by removing one hand which slipped down his body into Willis' boxer shorts. She hiccupped.
Willis didn't want to make a break for it but knew it was for the best. He yanked himself free of her embrace and got up quickly from the bed.
"Damn it, Willis," she pouted. "Now I really hate you." Lou lunged at him.
Willis jumped back as Lou slumped to the floor. He picked her up and dropped her back on the bed. He wondered if she behaved like this with Brad or that dumbass, Duane.
Lou's eyes widened at the sight of his twitching erection inside his boxer shorts.
Willis tugged on his robe to cover his rampant manhood. "I think you'd better leave."
Lou sat up on the bed and looked petulantly at him.
She begged in a girlish voice with a finger to her lips, "Please don't send me away, Mister FBI man." She licked her fingers provocatively.
Willis so wanted to make mad, passionate love to her. But the timing just didn't seem right. He was on a case, and having sex with the sheriff would surely complicate the investigation, not to mention that Merlot would pick up on the situation and blab her big mouth off.
Willis took Lou by the arm and heaved her off the bed. He started to lead her towards the door but Lou dug her heels in and refused to move further.
She swung around to face him and pressed her body against his. Lou tried once more to kiss Willis on the lips but he avoided her by rearing his head slightly backwards.
Don't succumb whatever you do, and no matter how tempted, he urged himself. His eyes wandered over the beautiful contours of her face. Did he still love her? He didn't have to ask that question.
"Come on, Lou, it's been a long day," he urged in a tender voice.
"You really want me to go?" she asked with a pout on her lips and a hurt look in her eyes.
Willis hesitated as he looked at her inviting, full red lips. "Yes. Now go!"
The hurt look in Lou's eyes deepened. Her lower lip trembled as if she was about cry.
"You miserable, heartless bastard," she said with all her raging emotions in full view. She let go of Willis and swayed over to the door with sagging shoulders.
Willis followed her and with every step he took he regretted sending her away. His heart yearned for her lips again, but those damned regulations kept getting in the way.
Lou swung the bedroom door open and turned round to face the heartless bastard. She couldn't hide the hurt and anger in her condemning eyes.
"So that's it then?"
Willis opened his mouth to speak-to say stay-but no words came out. He watched her hesitating to leave as if waiting for him to say that all-important something. He drew his lips together and sealed them tight.
A few lovelorn moments passed before Lou finally stepped out into the hallway. She staggered as if on the deck of a boat in a storm.
Willis poked his head out into the hallway and looked left and right. He was grateful to be alone with Lou. He knew that in a town like Big Beaver people loved to gossip.
Lou glanced back over her shoulder to look at him. Tears filled her eyes.
"You bastard . . . you know you want me." She wiped tears from her eyes. "I don't do this for just anyone, you know."
Willis remained silent. Do you do this for Brad, he wondered? His expression was serious, but inwardly his emotions were in turmoil over his desire for Lou.
"That's it then." Lou shrugged her shoulders and began to walk down the hallway, leaning against the wall for support.
Willis wanted to call out to her to come back, but his rock-hard inner-self forced him to remain silent. With a miserable sigh, he stepped back into his room and quietly closed the door.
Had he made the right choice sending the woman he loved away? Willis heaved a woeful sigh of regret. She loves you, you stupid jerk, and you still love her. That's another round to Doctor Fernandez.
LOU STIFLED HER TEARS as she walked away from Willis' bedroom. She didn't want anyone seeing her in a slinky black dress balling her eyes out. She knew what some people would say—they mostly being men—that a woman had no place being a sheriff if she allowed her emotions to get out of hand and to go about the place in such a drunken state.
And so, with this in mind, Lou pushed back the tears, knowing she would save them for later when she was home and where no one would see her crying-for no one ever came to see Lou at her home.
She consoled herself with the thought that he still wanted her. That much was evident with his erection, but did he still love her? His hard on was not proof of that, just a man wanting sex. So, why did Willis throw her out and why was she walking away from his room without so much as having a quickie? She didn't know what to think anymore.
Lou slipped out of the hotel lobby and into the cool night air. The thought that Willis didn't hold the same feelings for her made Lou's eyes fill up with tears once more. Don't cry, don't you dare. Don't give up yet, she told herself. He might be playing hard to get, something you should be doing, you slut. Then the full force of the alcohol hit Lou. She rushed into an alley and threw up.
A GRINNING MERLOT stepped away from the interconnecting door. Well, what do you know, she mused. Won't Doctor Ramón love to hear this? This trip was certainly turning out to be a revealing one at that. She wondered what more did Big Beaver have to offer. She giggled at the thought of defiling the town welcome sign.
28
HIROSHI, ONE OF THE 20-something Japanese tourists who had used several memory sticks of his camera at Abe's, awoke with a strong urge to relieve his bladder. He was not surprised, as he had drunk copious amounts of beer the previous night, and his head throbbed and his tongue felt like a Bigfoot had slept on it.
He shared the room with his older brother, Akira. They slept in single beds. He glance
d over at his brother and could make out the shadowy shape tucked up in the neighboring bed.
Akira snored loudly indicating to his brother that he was asleep and equally as intoxicated on Abe's beer, for Akira only snored when he was drunk.
Hiroshi looked at the travel clock on his bedside table. It was two-thirty in the morning. The only light in the room came from the hall light that filtered through the gap under the door.
Hiroshi threw back the bedclothes. Wearing only boxer shorts with the rising sun emblazoned on the ass end, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sprung to his feet with the agility of a cat. He moaned quietly as this action caused his head to ache even more. He quickly glanced over at his brother. He hadn't woken him. Good, thought Hiroshi, for it had taken several interminable hours of listening to Akira bleat on and on about the rumpus at the bar, and if he had awoken, he would continue all through the night.
Hiroshi picked up his black, silk kimono off a nearby chair. As he tied the kimono, Hiroshi quietly opened the door and peered into the hallway. He stepped out of his room and carefully closed the door without making a sound.
Unlike the FBI agents and several of his Japanese companions, Hiroshi and his brother were not fortunate enough to have a room with a private bathroom. They had to share a communal bathroom—of which there were two—on the second floor.
Hiroshi yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Quietly, and with the light tread of someone trained in martial arts, he walked on bare feet down the hall towards the bathroom at the far end of the hallway. He had to pass the stairs to get to the bathroom. Something hit him like an express train of stink. He coughed.
And what he saw going down the stairs caused Hiroshi's sleepy eyes to widen with surprise. There before him was a stinky Bigfoot descending the stairs.
As if sensing someone was watching, the Bigfoot came to a sudden stop and looked over its shoulder. It stared at Hiroshi for a brief, wondrous moment.
Hiroshi blinked at the sight before his eyes. Was it a real Bigfoot or just someone dressed up as the creature? It looked real to Hiroshi, but since when did Bigfoot stay at hotels? His heart pounded with excitement, and with just a hint of fear, for supposing it was a real Bigfoot and was in a bad mood. It could attack. Hiroshi was a black belt in karate. He thought if the creature attacked he could defend himself, for this Bigfoot wasn't exactly as tall as everyone was made to believe.
"Bigfoot san . . . Hiroshi friend," he said pointing a finger at himself and bowing.
The Bigfoot looked away from Hiroshi with a growl and continued on its way down the stairs two steps at a time.
"Hey, Bigfoot, wait for me," Hiroshi called out excitedly in a raised voice. He pointed his finger at Bigfoot.
At that moment lights were turned on in virtually every room in the hotel. Frantic Japanese clambered with sleepy eyes for their cameras as the alert to the presence of a Bigfoot could be heard.
The Bigfoot became frantic also, and in its eagerness to flee, missed the lower step, tumbling onto the floor at the bottom of the stairs and rolling across the lobby.
Hiroshi charged down the stairs after the clumsy Bigfoot.
The Bigfoot got quickly to its feet, swaying slightly, as if it had had a little too much to drink.
Hiroshi reached the lower step and dived across the lobby. He grabbed a hold of the Bigfoot's furry ankle.
The furry creature wriggled itself free of Hiroshi's hold and gave the Japanese a hefty kick, causing him to roll backwards across the floor. The Bigfoot then made haste to leave and headed for the main door to the hotel.
A stunned Hiroshi could only watch as the Bigfoot ran across the hotel lobby. He noticed the stunned look on the female desk clerk as she watched the incredible sight.
THE BIGFOOT HIROSHI had seen that night was none other than MB. His plan was to create a stir. The plan apparently succeeded. Why he did such a thing and allowed himself to become one with the Phantom Bigfoot was quite simple-he'd had too many at Abe's that night. And once Duane had told him he was the Phantom Bigfoot, MB jumped in with both big feet. Old Indian legend tells us that man who drinks too much gets up to all kinds of mischief.
BOTH FBI AGENTS, like the majority of those present in the hotel that summer's night, had been awoken by Hiroshi's cry of Bigfoot. And like the majority of those present in the hotel that night, they opened their bedroom doors and stepped into the hallway to see what the commotion was all about.
Guests spilled out into the hallway. Excited Japanese with cameras and camcorders at the ready were eager to finally catch a glimpse of Bigfoot. Who would have thought it would be at the hotel?
MERLOT, DRESSED IN HER skimpy baby-doll, looked at a tousled-haired and sleepy-eyed Willis, dressed in his regulation white boxer shorts, as he stepped out into the hallway.
"Someone called out Bigfoot," Merlot commented with a yawn. She glanced down the hallway at the Japanese en masse making their way towards the stairs.
"Yeah, I heard," Willis replied with an irritated edge to his voice. "I was sound asleep."
Merlot glanced back at her partner and could see he wasn't in the best of moods by the scowl on his face. She knew her partner was always in a better frame of mind if he'd had a good night's sleep. If he didn't he could be real touchy, not that anyone could tell the difference these days.
"Go back to bed. I'll see what's going on," Merlot offered.
"What's the point . . . I'm awake now. Huh, won't get back off to sleep now, anyway. Better get dressed and see what's going on."
Merlot nodded her head in agreement as she attempted to go back into her room, but was swept away by the throng of guests heading for the stairs.
Willis was also swept away by the tide of fervent, camera-happy guests, most of which were Japanese.
MERLOT AND WILLIS LISTENED TO an excited Hiroshi pointing at the hotel exit and exclaiming in a confused mixture of Japanese and English what he had seen. Neither agent could speak Japanese, but Merlot quickly deduced that Hiroshi had seen someone dressed up in a Bigfoot costume leaving the hotel through the lobby door. Probably that piece of driftwood, Duane!
Merlot was all smiles, for unlike her cranky partner, she didn't mind being woken up, especially for something as stupid as this. "Must have been someone dressed up in a Bigfoot costume . . ." She chuckled, ". . . Unless Bigfoot likes room service. Wouldn't surprise me in this town."
A petite Japanese woman, dressed in a red kimono, ran down the stairs holding something in her hand and waving it excitedly in the air.
"Bigfoot photo. Bigfoot photo," she gasped in a voice breathless with excitement.
The FBI agents gave her questioning looks as she made her way over to them.
The woman bowed. "Please, I found photo slid under door of bedroom."
She handed the photograph to Merlot.
Merlot and Willis looked with total surprise at the photograph of a Bigfoot seated upon a toilet eating a doughnut. Both agents grimaced with disgust at the image totally lacking in couth.
"Yuck!" Willis said.
"Double yuck. How can anyone eat on the toilet?" Merlot exclaimed.
"Exactly," Willis agreed with a shudder.
Several Japanese who were standing nearby spied the photograph with excited gasps.
Akira exclaimed, "It's the sewial bather." He stared at Merlot's body.
Willis turned from the lurid photograph. He glanced at his partner and saw the grin on her face. "This keeps getting worse."
29
IT TOOK SHERIFF LOU forty minutes to show up at the hotel and by then Dwight had already taken Hiroshi's and the Japanese woman's statements. She was in a very low mood, having to scramble into her cop's outfit and sober up with a couple of cups of strong black coffee.
All of the sheriff's deputies were on the scene and asking questions when Lou walked in through the lobby door, a little wobbly on her feet. She saw Willis resplendent in his boxer shorts talking to a Japanese woman and Dwight. She saw the elder
ly hotel owner, Grace, handing out cups of tea and coffee with biscuits to her excited guests.
Merlot looked in Lou's direction and attracted her over with a wave of her hand.
Lou approached the agent slowly, careful not to make it obvious that she was a little unsteady on her feet. She knew if any of her deputies asked her to walk in a straight line, she would fail. Thankfully, it was impossible to do that in the crowded room. Her weaving this way and that to dodge excited guests helped hide her drunken state.
"Agent Merlot," she said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. On noticing Merlot's see-through attire, Lou removed her jacket and handed it to her. She saw the disappointed looks on the men and heard their sighs.
Merlot gave Lou the photograph to look at, suppressing a fit of the giggles while putting on Lou's jacket. "Thank you, Lou."
"Don't mention it." Lou grimaced as she studied the image of the Bigfoot eating the doughnut. She shook her head and frowned. Hold on—the MO was different. The Phantom Bigfoot entered people's homes and bathed or whatever he did-he never left a photo of said crime. She looked up from the photograph and noticed Willis staring at her. She made eye contact with him but was distracted by the sound of Merlot's giggles.
Lou gave Merlot a cool look then looked back at the photograph, for something didn't gel.
"The toilet doesn't match any of the toilets in the hotel," she commented. "They're all white low flush jobs to save our precious water." Lou paused and looked thoughtful, "Though I'm not that much of an expert on Big Beaver's facilities . . . but I know this beige toilet from somewhere. Guess we'd have to do a house to house search." She paused again and gave another thoughtful look. "Well, this is certainly something new."
Dwight said, "Hey, Lou, we could put up posters around town and pictures on milk cartons? You know-has anyone seen this toilet?"
