Blue Macabre

by J. W. DeBrock

  “How did you know I was ready for something warm and sweet.”

  “Don’t you know – I can read minds.”

  She laughed and sipped the warm smoothness.

  He waited for the drug to take effect.

  They talked and chatted about their likes and dislikes, their generic wants and needs. Chris closely monitored her movements; after half an hour he detected perceptible changes in her facial expression and speech. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little tired.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do feel relaxed. Almost groggy.”

  “Probably a combination of fresh air, the filling dinner, and chocolate.”

  “Probably.”

  “Would you like to lie down? We’re giving you the guest room, and I’m going to take the couch tonight.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”

  “Absolutely. Why don’t you let me help you get settled? Where are your bags?”

  She reached into a pocket of the dress and pulled out her keys. “They’re in the trunk of my car. A small suitcase and a tote bag. Would you mind?”

  He picked them up. “Be right back.” He returned in a couple of minutes with her things. “I’ll take these to your room.” He started down the hall. She rose to follow and had to grab the table to steady herself – and sat back down.

  He came right back. “Let me help you get settled. You do look tired. Sure you’re okay?” He stood beside her and put his hand on her shoulder, helpfully.

  “I’m fine, but I do think I would like to lie down.” He helped her up and put his arm around her. They walked back to the guest room. He’d turned on the soft glow of the table lamp, and pulled back the edge of the covers.

  He offered, “Is there anything I could get for you? A glass of water?”

  She smiled. “Thanks. That would be great.” She lay down on the bed with a deep sigh.

  When he returned with her glass, she had not moved at all. She lay on her back with her arm across her forehead, exactly as he’d left her. He locked the door and stood beside the bed, watching. Her breathing was deep and even.

  He touched her arm, withdrew, and then placed his hand on it again. She did not stir. He lifted her arm gently and laid it on the bed at her side. Gently he touched her shoulder with no response.

  Slowly he unbuttoned the front of her dress, alert for any recognition. Underneath it she was wearing a soft linen slip, and he eased it upward, happy to find no other layers beneath. She lay open to him, her dress to either side, the slip above her breasts. He stood back and took off his clothes.

  He placed his hands on her belly.

  He was totally unprepared for the rush.

  The instant his hands spanned her womb he was awash in tender and loving energy. The love and affection he gleaned from the baby surrounded him; the feelings were so strong they were nearly sexual in pleasure, and time stopped as warmth and compassion flowed through him with gentle abandon. The depth of his connection with the baby sapped his own consciousness; the warmth of his palms increased as his hands lay on her skin. She stirred and then relaxed. The baby moved within her belly – with a tiny limb it nudged one of his hands. He got onto the bed, gingerly, on his knees, and placed his cheek against her. He slipped one arm beneath her back and kept the other connected with the child. He released himself totally to the intensity of the energy; he was warm, cared for, loved, cherished. Most of all he was overwhelmed by a feeling of acceptance and belonging. His heart felt as if it could burst with this new identity.

  He softly massaged her breasts and caressed her, the baby stirring within its mother’s stimulation. He gently kissed her breasts.

  chris

  He teased her nipples with his tongue, softly, and tasted the salt of her skin.

  chris

  She stirred without waking. He gently suckled.

  chris I want

  He shut his eyes tightly; white fireworks danced through his inner vision. He opened his eyes and eased her thighs apart, rubbing her gently, exploring.

  love me

  His head began to ache. His mind was exploding with desire, driving him to realize the love and warmth enveloping him. He lay beside her, easing her onto her side so that he faced her back. As he snuggled with her he eased her knees upward, exposing her to him. Gently he entered between her thighs, stroking her with his hardness, holding himself back. He did not enter her, but as he moved she grew wet and with each gentle push and pull she was stimulated. As he held her belly he felt it harden, a mock but very gentle contraction as she came.

  chris im here

  His head throbbed. He held her belly and then felt it ease as he felt her moisture. He kissed her neck as he resumed gentle strokes. He felt her contract with another orgasm.

  chris love me fuck me

  As she made him wet again, a vein pulsed in his temple. He felt himself slipping away.

  make me a baby fuck me

  Donna

  yes

  Sensation overloaded his brain. He could not get air, and shut his eyes tightly and gasped for breath.

  Easing her onto her back, he propped himself on his arm and again placed his cheek against her. The rush of feeling was intense and he ran his tongue over his lips, nearly able to taste it.

  lay still

  i want a baby

  fill me up

  She lay unconscious as his fingers tenderly explored her.

  i made you baby

  His head throbbed with his dick; he held himself and quickly came

  now

  with force; pain and pleasure combined to drain him. A tiny blue spark glowed in his vision and then winked out.

  When Jenny and Karin came home later, Chris had bathed and dressed and was sitting on the couch watching television. Suzanne rested comfortably in her room, tenderly tucked into bed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning, Dave had to knock several times on the front door of the dilapidated office at the trailer park before an old man in filthy clothes finally answered. He frowned as he saw Dave’s unmistakable uniform and hat. His eyes lingered on the trooper’s gun belt as Dave informed him he was there to go through Sally Todd’s personal effects.

  “D’ I havta go with you?”

  “No. If you’d rather, you can just let me have the key and I’ll include that in my report.”

  The manager grunted assent. He shuffled off into the dimness behind the screen door and returned with two keys bound by a paper clip, poking them out the door. “Here, don’t upset th’ neighbors.” He shut the door in Dave’s face.

  The trailer park rotted as it stood, most units far beyond repair. Sally’s former home was one of the oldest, nearly thirty years in age with multiple coats of paint, most of which had flaked and peeled. He unlocked the front door and went in. The interior was tidy – dust settled – but however worn, it still had the look of a well-kept home. There was one bedroom the size of a closet, one slightly larger bedroom, and a bathroom so narrow Dave could barely squeeze through as his hat brushed the ceiling.

  He rummaged in the closet of the larger bedroom. Sally’s limited wardrobe of jeans and tees hung neatly on wire hangers, her other clothing items folded on skimpy shelves. There was a little bedside table with one drawer where he found some note paper and pens and an assortment of cheap jewelry.

  He took a final look around the bedroom and went into the kitchen. Once again he found everything neatly in place – the canned goods organized by size and type, the silverware well arranged, all dishes washed and put away. He thumbed through a stack of papers and bills she’d tucked beside the phone. The lighting was poor and he picked up the bundle, sitting down at the tiny kitchen table and spreading the papers across the cracked laminate. Using his penlight, he illumined a past due electric bill, a stub from her last water bill, a current phone bill and a few blank envelopes. At the very bottom of the pile was a tiny address book with a plastic cover. He flipped through it twice, page by page,
its lines nearly empty except for a few names. He recognized most as locals, pausing at the entry for Jim Beisner. Pulling an evidence bag from the breast pocket of his shirt, he carefully wrapped it in the clear vinyl.

  Squeezing into the smaller bedroom, he searched its meager contents. There were a few boxes holding odds and ends of dishes and junk, one carton marked YARD SALE. The miniature closet was empty; two roaches scurried past the toe of his boot as he watched with macabre fascination.

  In the living room he surveyed the scratched paneling, the dreary and faded drapes, the threadbare carpet. He closed his eyes and sighed. Glancing at the little address book in his hand, he stepped out the door and locked it behind him. He dropped the keys in the manager’s battered mailbox.

  He pulled in at the Village Grocery, parking in ‘No Parking’. As he went inside the owner called out, “Dave! Staying out of trouble?”

  Dave walked over. The man was stocking his small produce section with a surprisingly wide assortment of fresh fruits and vegetables. “Hi Bob, how’s everything with you?” They shook hands.

  “Pretty good, pretty good. Business is starting to pick up a little with the nice weather. More tourists, you know. They keeping you busy?” He arranged several heads of lettuce with artistic flair.

  “Yeah, busier than I want to be.” He glanced around the store. Say, Bob, would that checker I talked to the other day happen to be here – Sheila? The one who saw Sally in here that night?”

  Bob prodded bags of carrots. “Yeah, as a matter of fact I think she is. Hang on a second and I’ll go check the back.” He wiped his hands on his apron and headed to the rear of the store, passing through a set of swinging doors. “Sheila? Someone out here to see you.”

  A woman trailed him back to the produce section. Dave knew her casually from having shopped in the store. He’d also heard Bob mention her in passing, valued as an employee for her honesty and punctuality. “Oh, hi Dave. Bob didn’t say it was you.”

  “Could you come outside and talk for a minute, Sheila? If it’s okay with Bob.”

  “I’ll just take it off her paycheck,” the owner said with a laugh.

  Dave leaned against the patrol car. “I just want you to tell me again exactly what you saw the night Sally came in here – the night she died.”

  She studied her well-worn shoes. “Like I told you and that other trooper, I only seen her for maybe five minutes. They came in here late that night, Sally and that big blonde guy, to buy beer. I think she’d just closed up the Village. He picked out a cold case. I remember hearing them talk – there wasn’t anyone else in here but me and them and I was payin’ attention, you know, ‘cause he’s such a good-lookin’ guy and all.” She raised her head and looked him straight in the eye.

  “Anyhow, they came in together and went straight away over to the cooler. Sally was gigglin’ and cuttin’ up with the guy like she did with all the men, know what I mean? So then, he brings the case to the checkout and pays for it, and she waves him out the door to his car – an SUV, I think – and she stopped to talk to me for just a minute. I remember tellin’ her I’d seen her old sweetie Jim in here too, and I asked her if she’d seen him – she told me she had and then said she’d told him to get lost again, like she’s been sayin’ forever, know what I mean?” She turned her face and coughed. She withdrew a pack of cigarettes from her apron pocket, lighting one as she coughed again.

  “Can you remember anything else?” He folded his arms across his chest.

  She teased a flattened bottle cap with the toe of her shoe while smoke swirled around her head. “I dunno. Think that’s about it. She wasn’t here too long.” She puffed on her smoke while Dave watched a customer fill the tank of his car from a self-serve pump.

  “Just one more thing. Had you noticed anyone new coming or going from Sally’s trailer? You did live pretty close to her.”

  The cigarette dangled from her lips; she bent down to retie a shoelace. “Nah, actually Sally had been livin’ kind of quiet the last few weeks. I thought she really mights been breakin’ it off with that biker fella for good.” She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “You know he’d been takin’ her tips?”

  “Yeah, I’d heard that.” He shook his head. “Well, thanks, Sheila. I’m sorry for taking you away from work – but I do appreciate the information. You never know what little bit will help.” He climbed into his patrol car.

  “Oh – yeah – Dave,” she bent over so she was at his eye level. “I just remembered. Sally did say one more thing to me as she was going out the door that night.”

  “What’s that?”

  Sheila grinned, nodding her head. “I ‘member her sayin’, wouldn’ Jim shit if he saw me with him, meanin’ that blonde fella. By the way, is he really Jenny Rawlins’ brother?”

  Seconds ticked by as Dave stared at nothing through his windshield. “Yeah, he sure is. Thanks, Sheila.”

  He swung the cruiser onto the highway.

  As Dave rounded the corner of Andy’s deck he saw through the windows Andy settled on the sofa, watching TV. The glass door was open and he rapped on the jamb. Trooper jumped from the couch and danced around his legs in greeting as Andy lazily waved him in. “Thought I’d stop by for free food. Got anything for sandwiches?”

  “Yeah, I think so. While you’re at it I’d take one too.” He put Clint Eastwood on PAUSE and heaved himself from the sofa. Trooper shadowed them. Dave poked through the fridge, taking meat, cheese, mayo, pickles, olives, and mustard. He went to the right cupboards for bread, chips and plates. Andy sat at the table, watching. “That’s one thing I love about you, never have to show you where anything is.”

  “Yeah, well, bite me.” Dave added a couple of sodas.

  “Did you come by just for a free meal?”

  Dave carried the plates to the table and returned for the olives and pickles. “Nah, I thought I’d make this a pit stop and fill you in on the latest about the Todd case at the same time.” They ate mostly in silence, watching the sparkle of the sunshine on the water. Trooper went outside to the deck, halted at the edge, sniffed at an unseen invader, and pivoted and dashed to the opposite side of the house. “What’s up his ass?” said Dave.

  “You’re the Bigfoot expert. Thought I saw him through the bathroom window last night.”

  “Hah. Fuck you.” With the last bite of his sandwich and a few crushed potato chips Dave mumbled, “You are not gonna believe this.” He crammed two more olives in with the rest. Andy leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “Beisner has a dick-hard alibi for the night Sally was murdered, down to the time frame.”

  “The hell you say.”

  “I’m telling you, it all checks out. The Gresham police picked him up for stolen plastic and then let us have him. I questioned him myself. He and his buddies were picked up in Longview around ten that night and held in the jail eight hours. He wasn’t anywhere near Sally and at least ten different people can verify it. I felt absolutely fucked when they confirmed. I was so sure it was him.” He munched thoughtfully on chips.

  Andy stared out the window. “We’re screwed. Now what?”

  Dave slurped soda. “Now for the better part. I talked to Sheila again this morning down at the grocery. She still maintains Sally was in there with Chris Rawlins the night of her death. Said they were in there, playing around, just after Sally locked up the restaurant. No one else saw them, Sheila was alone in the market late, but my gut says she’s reliable and her boss has always told me she’s the best employee he has.”

  “Have you been to Sally’s trailer?”

  “Yeah, a big zero there too. The only thing I took out was a tiny address book, but it’s mostly empty except for a few local numbers. I’m taking it to the post so they can run down the names. No other little black book or anything – and since we all knew Sally as we did, I sure expected to find one.”

  “Have you discussed this with anyone else?”

  “No. Wanted to talk it over with you first. I say watch
him. You?”

  Andy stared at his boat. The only parts within his line of sight were the top of the stern motor and the backs of the seats. “I don’t know. I really thought he was with us all that night at Jen’s. I sure didn’t know he ever left, if in fact he did.”

  “Sheila also saw him in an SUV.”

  Andy scowled. “Crap.”

  “It might not have been him. It might have been another SUV. Let’s just give it a little more time and see what comes up. You never know – something else might break in the meantime. I mean – what the fuck about Chris? And Beisner certainly wasn’t the only guy she saw.”