by Kira Chase
Johanna chewed her bottom lip. “That’s true, too, Selma. Unfortunately, the poorer neighborhoods are being taken over by the drug dealers. The kids earn easy money as runners and before you know it are headed into a life of crime. Especially with rival gangs. There’ve been several arrests down here, but it’s only a dent in what really goes on. For every one we put away, there are ten more standing in line ready to take his place.”
“Do you think Cody Burrows was a drug runner or in a gang?” Selma asked.
Frankie shrugged. “Who knows? I’m sure George is checking that out. If the kid was then it could have been a deal gone bad or the work of a rival gang. Some of the dealers won’t hesitate to commit murder over a few dollars. It’s crazy. Or he could have been using and didn’t pay up.”
“But the way he was murdered doesn’t lead me to believe his death had anything to do with drugs or gangs. They wouldn’t take the time to carve him up, let alone transport him to Clark’s Tree Farm,” Johanna said firmly. “That’s the piece of the puzzle that just doesn’t fit.”
“I have to agree with you on that point,” Frankie admitted. “I think George feels the same way. Otherwise Cody would have been the victim of a drive-by shooting or would have been found beaten to death in an alley in the neighborhood.”
Selma shook her head in disgust and made tsking sounds as she stared at the bleak neighborhood. “Such a shame to live like this in such squalor whether by choice or not.”
Frankie squinted. “There it is,” she announced. She pointed to a three-story building with a crumbling front porch. As Johanna drew closer, she observed that the house looked like it would fall down with the next strong windstorm.
“It’s deplorable!” Selma announced. “I can’t believe it! Why does the city allow this!”
“Mom, most of the tenants don’t report the living conditions. They’re afraid of being evicted if they do. The city has come down hard on some of the slumlords, but no one is willingly going to report any violation and face the consequences.”
Johanna parked across the street from the building. She retrieved her camera and took a few shots.
“So what do you girls do on a stakeout?” Selma asked.
Frankie turned and looked at her mother who was seated in the backseat behind Johanna. “This is it, Mom. We park the car and wait for the occupants to enter or leave.”
“So you just sit and wait. Isn’t that boring?”
Frankie chuckled. “We’re used to it. It’s not as glamorous as your detective shows on TV make it out to be,” she teased. “Sorry.”
Selma frowned. “How will you know which person is Clyde Burrows?”
“Well, when it’s an apartment building like this, and since George didn’t get us a picture or any information yet, we generally look on the mailbox to see which apartment belongs to the person we’re watching. Sometimes we think of an excuse to visit the apartment to get a good look at the occupants. In some cases it’s not a major risk if they discover we’re tailing them. If we’re watching for evidence of a cheating spouse, then, of course we don’t want the cheater to see us. Most of the time, though, is spent sitting in the car watching and then following them without them seeing us.”
“What if the people you’re tailing see you watching them and confront you?”
“In that case we make up an excuse that we’re waiting for someone. You’d be surprised how many people walk past and don’t think twice about it, not paying any attention to us. I’m sure George will get some pictures for us soon and that’ll make things easier.” Frankie turned her head again, leaned over the seat, and looked at her mother. “Mom, you’re the one who wanted to come here. I told you it wasn’t a pleasant neighborhood. Now quit worrying.”
“What if George doesn’t get the pictures to you?” Selma asked.
“He will. Look, why don’t we go back to the house? It’s freezing out here,” Johanna said. “We’ll come back after we hear from George. Then at least we’ll know who we’re looking for.”
Selma thoughtfully scratched her chin as she looked at a window on the top floor of the Burrows’ apartment building. A simple wreath hung in the drab window illuminated with a dimly lit bulb. “Look at that,” she said as a child’s face appeared at the window. She blinked back tears. “What kind of Christmas will that poor thing have?”
“Mom, let’s go home,” Frankie said softly. “We shouldn’t have come here.”
Selma drew a shuddering breath. “I wonder what that child will grow up to be?”
Frankie looked questionably at Johanna. Johanna put the camera in the case, started the car and pulled away from the curb.
“Please stop the car, Johanna,” Selma insisted. “I want to see what that dead boy’s parents look like. Let’s knock on the door.”
Johanna drove back to the curb and parked the car. “What are we going to do?”
“Knock on the door,” Selma replied.
“No, Mom. We can’t do that. That is only a last resort and something we rarely do. I think we need to go home. We’ll wait until George faxes us something.”
Selma pointed excitedly when a couple exited the front door of the building. “Do you think it’s them?”
“I don’t know,” Frankie replied. “Could be.” She sighed in exasperation. “Johanna, let’s get out of here. This was a bad idea. I should have never let you talk me into this, Mom.”
“Wait a minute,” Johanna said as the man and woman paused at the top of the stairs before descending. “I’ve got an idea.”
“What?” Frankie asked. She peered at the couple picking their way down a set of snow-caked steps where a well-trodden path had been made on them in lieu of shoveling the snow off of them. The sidewalks hadn’t been cleared of snow either, but the residents had trampled the snow down under their feet.
“Let me do the talking. You two don’t say a word.” She kept her eyes on the couple as they crossed the street and proceeded to pick their way down the sidewalk not looking behind them or noticing the three women parked at the curb across the street.
Johanna slowly pulled away from the curb and drove alongside the couple as she partially rolled down her window. “Excuse me,” she called.
The couple stopped. “What?” the man asked in a surly voice turning in Johanna’s direction. He was unshaven and his eyes were bloodshot. His companion clinging tightly to his side looked timidly at them. She was mousy looking, thin and probably not much past her teens.
“We’re looking for someone who lives on this street and we were wondering if you could give us directions.”
“Who?” the man asked in an unfriendly tone of voice.
Johanna kept her foot near the gas pedal as she chatted. “We want to pay our condolences to Brenda and Clyde Burrows.”
The timid woman who’d been silently observing them finally spoke. “They’re probably down at Micki’s Tavern. That’s where they usually are.”
“But their son—”
“It don’t matter,” the man broke in. “They didn’t give a damn about that kid.” He leaned in the window. Johanna could smell the stale whiskey on his breath. She recoiled. “I hope they’re not close friends of yours or you’ll be insulted by what I’m going to say. This neighborhood was bad enough before that trash moved in here.” He scratched his stubbly chin. “They live in the apartment across from ours. The beatings that kid took would make your skin crawl.”
“Did you ever call the sheriff or police?” Frankie asked.
The man threw his head back and laughed revealing two missing bottom teeth. “Now that’s a good one.”
“Well, thank you for your help. We’ll check the bar,” Johanna said.
The man shrugged as he took the woman’s arm and resumed walking.
“Let’s go to the bar,” Selma said. “We can just check it out…at least get a glimpse of them. We don’t have to stay long.”
“No, Mom. We’re going home.”
* * * *
&n
bsp; Johanna slowly sipped her glass of eggnog as her eyes stayed riveted on the twinkling Christmas tree. Frankie sat silently watching her. She could tell that Johanna wasn’t looking at the tree. Her mind had wandered somewhere else. Selma had gone to bed an hour ago, Frankie had dimmed the lamps and joined Johanna on the sofa. Johanna rested her head on Frankie’s shoulder.
“What are you thinking?” Frankie murmured softly, brushing Johanna’s auburn hair from her cheek.
Johanna sighed, and set her glass on the coffee table before turning toward Frankie. “Maybe we’re looking for the wrong person.”
“What?” Frankie’s eyes narrowed.
“Maybe the father had nothing to do with his son’s death.”
Frankie exhaled loudly. “Honey, give the case a rest. Besides that isn’t what George hired us to do. We’re only supposed to find out if Clyde Burrows is involved in the break-ins. Forget about everything else and let’s just sit here and enjoy the peace and quiet.”
Johanna shook her head. “I can’t. I need to find out who murdered that kid.” She eyed Frankie sharply. “And you know your mother has no intention of letting it go until the case is settled.”
Frankie frowned. “I know. So, I suppose we’ll just have to put up with her trying to help. After witnessing what she has, I doubt she’ll ever want to be a part of things again.”
“Frankie, you know I love Selma. I’m just worried about her that’s all. She has no clue how quickly a routine case can turn violent. We were so gung-ho to drive to Anston Street that I never even thought to bring my gun.” She shook her head in disgust. “I can’t believe I could be so careless.”
Frankie smiled. “I had both guns with me. There’s no way in hell I’d go there without them.”
Johanna touched Frankie’s arm. “That’s a relief. I should have known you’d be the one with the clear head.” She paused.
“What’s the matter, babe?” Frankie asked softly. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”
“I just wish all of this wasn’t happening now. I love when your mother visits, but I was hoping we could have a relaxing holiday for once.”
“Most of our holidays have been peaceful.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “Maybe it’s the two previous cases. Neither was that long ago. The violence is escalating.”
“We have no control over that, Johanna. You know that. I think you and I need to get away and take a real vacation. Every time we try to take some time off and stay home, we get dragged into another case. George probably would have still asked us to tail Clyde Burrows whether we’d been at the tree farm or not.” She cocked an eye. “I suppose we shouldn’t have been so quick to take the assignment, but I don’t think you really wanted to turn it down.”
“You know me too well, but I did think about it…for a minute.” Johanna ran a hand through her hair. “Something doesn’t add up. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s a piece missing.”
“It never starts adding up until we start digging.” She put an arm around Johanna’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “But I know you won’t let it rest until you’ve gotten all the pieces of the puzzle.” She grinned. “So tell me. You said we’re looking for the wrong person. I’m not saying one hundred percent that the father did it, but I’m not ruling him out either. Right now, in my opinion, though, he should be at the least, suspect. And we’ve already surmised that it may still be a drug deal gone wrong.”
Johanna adamantly shook her head. “No. The mother. I’ll bet the mother is somehow involved.”
“What! Are you kidding me?” Frankie was stunned. “I have no idea how you came up with her. What motive would she have? Don’t forget that was her own flesh and blood. Her only child.”
She shrugged. “Maybe she’s protecting her husband. After all, he’s the one who took her in after her parents kicked her out. Maybe she feels an obligation to him no matter how sick it sounds.”
“So you think Clyde Burrows may have done it?”
“No, she might be protecting him from the break-ins. Maybe the kid was going to turn in his father and she stepped in and things got out of hand.”
“I doubt it. A mother will usually go to any lengths to protect her child. If she was going to murder anyone I believe it would be her husband.” Frankie was thoughtful for a minute. “Even if for some reason she did murder her child, how did she get him to the tree farm?” She shuddered. “And I still can’t imagine a mother carving up her own child like that. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe she didn’t know it was Cody.”
“Okay, now you’ve lost me. None of this is making any sense.” Frankie chuckled. “We’re both overtired. Let’s get some sleep. In the morning we can see if George faxed over anything and take it from there.”
“If he didn’t I’ll give him a call. He might have gotten caught up in the case and forgot.”
“Or he waited until he got a more in-depth background check on Clyde Burrows.”
“Okay, I’m officially putting the case to rest for tonight and devoting the rest of the night to you.” Johanna squeezed Frankie’s shoulder. She brushed her lips against Frankie’s.
Frankie looked slyly at her. “I was thinking about going for a nice long ride before we go to sleep.”
Johanna cocked an eye. “It’s kind of late for that, babe. Why do you want to go out tonight?”
Frankie grinned wickedly. “Who said anything about going out?” She took Johanna’s hand and silently led her to their bedroom. Once inside she dimmed the lights and then gathered Johanna in her arms. She caressed her creamy smooth flesh as she removed each article of clothing and then kissed the exposed flesh.
“Ah, just what I like,” she whispered as she dipped a finger inside of Johanna’s moist pussy. She explored for a few seconds before removing it.
Johanna shuddered. “I’ll give you everything you want, baby.” She helped Frankie out of her clothes and then stood back admiring her lover’s body.
Frankie guided her to their large bed. “You know what I’d like to do? Something we haven’t done in a long time.”
“What’s that?”
“Let’s take a bubble bath together. A nice long relaxing bubble bath.”
Johanna’s eyes lit up. “I’ll get the CD player and you start the bath.”
Frankie ran the bath water while Johanna found a CD filled with romantic songs and then lit some candles and placed them on the bathroom counters. As the music played softly in the background Frankie stepped into the bathtub and then took Johanna’s hand and helped her in. The light lilac fragrance of the bubbles and the flickering lights from the candles Johanna had placed on the counter cast the room in an inviting sexy ambiance.
Frankie leaned back and held Johanna against her. “This is nice,” she murmured. “So relaxing.” She sighed contentedly as she stroked Johanna’s cheek with the back of her hand.
Johanna grabbed Frankie’s other hand and entwined Frankie’s fingers through her own. “We should do this more often.”
“We will,” Frankie promised as she nuzzled Johanna’s earlobe. She closed her eyes enjoying the romantic music and her lover in her arms. Life was good. They sat quietly for several minutes.
Frankie moved her hand from Johanna’s cheek and found Johanna’s breasts under the mound of bubbles. Her fingertips brushed over Johanna’s nipples in a teasing motion. She listened to Johanna’s barely audible intake of air.
“That feels good,” Johanna said huskily. She shifted her body letting go of Frankie’s hand. Her head rested against Frankie’s chest.
Frankie massaged the ample breasts with both hands enjoying the sounds emitting from Johanna’s throat. Johanna spread her legs slightly. Frankie knew she wanted her to move her fingers to her hot clit, but she intended to take her time. “I could stay like this all night.” She trailed her fingers over Johanna’s flat stomach and when she reached Johanna’s navel gently placed a finger inside. She made circ
ling motions and felt Johanna squirm against her.
Johanna spread her legs a little further apart. “That feels so good,” she whispered.
“You’re so hot,” Frankie said close to her ear as her fingers played in Johanna’s pubic hair and then with feather-soft movements traced the crack of her pussy. “How does that feel?”
“Like I’m going to explode,” Johanna panted.
“Ah…well I think I have the solution.” She slowly inserted two fingers moving them slowly in and out.
Johanna sucked in her breath and wriggled her hips tightening herself around Frankie’s fingers. Frankie’s only thought was to satisfy her lover. She let her body and mind be swept away by the intense sensations emitting from Johanna.
“You always know what I need,” Johanna said throatily.
Frankie smiled. “And I’m going to give it to you. I’ll give you anything you want, baby.” Her two fingers manipulated Johanna’s clit. As she rubbed, Johanna’s breath quickened and she thrust her hips forward.
“I can’t hold back, Frankie. I’m going to come.” Johanna threw her head back, her long auburn hair cascading around her shoulders. Her breath quickened as she began to climax. She called out Frankie’s name.
Frankie knew the warm water along with her fingers gave Johanna an even more intense sensual release.
“Don’t stop!” she moaned.
“Never,” Frankie promised as Johanna’s body shuddered.
Frankie waited for Johanna’s breathing to return to normal before removing her fingers. She placed a hand on Johanna’s vagina as Johanna settled against her once again. She sighed, totally satisfied.
The women listened silently to the music and watched the flickering candlelight for several minutes. The water had cooled and most of the bubbles had dissolved. Frankie shivered and rubbed her hand up and down Johanna’s chilled arm. “We’d better get out of the tub before we freeze to death.”
Johanna stood and then stepped out of the tub holding out a hand for Frankie. Frankie took the towel Johanna handed her and tenderly dried every inch of her partner’s body. When she reached Johanna’s pussy, she dropped to her knees and then nuzzled her face in the still damp mound. She loved the smell of her, the taste of her. She’d never get enough of her no matter how many times they made love. Frankie kissed Johanna’s inner thighs before pulling herself back up. “I want more of you.”
