by Sarah Markel
“Bailey Chambers was the last of the Falls City Five to go missing. She’s been gone for almost three weeks.”
Max softened her gaze and prodded carefully. “Is she your daughter?” Max knew the child belonged to Walter and Gina Chambers; Rhonda’s half-brother and sister-in-law, but she didn’t want to let on how much she actually knew.
“No,” Rhonda answered, her chin trembling as more tears slid down her reddened cheeks, “She’s my girlfriend’s daughter.”
Max’s eyebrow raised, and she made a mental note to share the admission with the rest of the team. “That explains why you keep her picture in your book,” she said gently. Rhonda nodded.
“My brother knew how much I adore my niece, and how much I love to read. He had her school picture made into a bookmark, so I would always have it with me.”
As soon as the words were out, Rhonda’s jaw dropped, and her eyes swept the room. “Fuck,” she hissed, her face draining of color.
Max laid her hand compassionately on Rhonda’s arm. “Does he know?” she asked, “that you are sleeping with his wife?”
Rhonda’s shoulders slumped. She hadn’t meant to reveal her secret, but now that the cat was out of the bag, she might as well be honest.
“Yes,” she replied with a heavy sigh, “but no one else does. Gina’s family came here, illegally, when she was twelve. She applied for residency when she was eighteen, but was denied when her parent’s immigration status was discovered. Wally knew how much I loved her and offered to help us out. He and Gina got married and played the happy couple for a few years, until she received her citizenship.”
Max’s brow furrowed. “Why are they still pretending?” she asked, “If she’s a citizen now, why haven’t they divorced so the two of you can be together?”
Rhonda shook her head sadly. “That was Wally’s only stipulation. He agreed to marry Gina, on the condition that they remain married for twenty years. Publicly, they were a happily married couple.”
“Were?” Max asked curiously.
A different sadness filled Rhonda’s eyes. “Wally died a few months ago.”
Max offered an honest apology. She knew of the man’s demise, from the family history she’d read, but needed Rhonda to feel comfortable enough to keep talking.
“Behind closed doors, Gina and I have always been together. When Gina and I talked about having a baby, Wally agreed to donate, provided he be allowed to be the child’s father.”
“Bailey knows the truth, and understands how important it is that no one else find out. If anyone were to find out about the deception, we’d be ostracized. That’s why Gina and I keep up the charade; we don’t want Bailey to be hurt by what other people say.”
A heavy silence hung in the air when Rhonda was finished. She looked imploringly at Max, hoping her honesty wouldn’t cost her the one thing she had to live for.
“I’ll keep your secret,” Max said, “on one condition. You have to talk to Ray, and anyone else you’ve told, and explain that your accusation was unfounded. If people start thinking I am sleeping with Daniela, it would tear our family apart. She is all I have left of my wife, Rhonda. The very thing you are trying to protect your daughter from, could end up hurting mine.”
Chapter 12
“Hiya, darlin’. You must be the new English teacher.”
Max smiled at the friendly, boisterous bartender and nodded. “Guilty,” she replied, “guess there’s no flying under the radar here, is there?”
The bartender laughed. “Not in this town. Tongues started wagging the second you and your kid rolled up. Hell, Toby and Ben are already betting on whether or not Gloria is going to hunt you down and sweet talk you into a date.”
Max chuckled. “I don’t know who any of those people are,” she said, glancing around at the other patrons in the small space. There were only three other people in the bar, but no one seemed to pay her any mind.
“I’m Alicia,” the bartender extended her hand to Max. She pointed in turn to the others, offering Max a one-sided introduction. “That’s Earl. He’s deaf as can be, but he’s a sweetheart. That woman over there is Theresa. This is her favorite place to be, so you’ll usually see her in here whenever the door is open. And that over there is JC. That’s my wife.”
Max gave each of the patrons a quick study. Earl looked to be in his mid-to-late sixties, and seemed intent on studying the colorful sign displaying the drink specials. She noted his eyes would dart to the side every so often, a subtle indicator to her that the man was not as deaf as he pretended to be.
Theresa was an older woman in her late fifties, who appeared to be completely engrossed in the dark amber liquid she was swirling around the rocks glass in her hand. She smiled and raised her glass when Alicia pointed her out, offering Max a slurred hello.
JC was sitting at the far end of the bar. When she heard her name, the woman offered a bright smile and waved. She picked up her beer and moved down the bar to shake Max’s hand. JC’s hair was pulled back in a long ponytail that hung down the middle of her back. The sides and back of her head were shaved, but were her hair not pulled up, no one would even notice.
“I’m Max,” Max supplied, “it’s nice to meet you both. Um, who is Gloria?” she added, working a hint of hesitation into her voice.
Alicia and JC shared a conspiratorial smirk. “Gloria is the one-woman welcome wagon who seeks out every lesbian that comes through town. Your best bet is to just ignore her. She hates not being the center of attention and will give up quickly if you seem indifferent to her charms,” JC explained.
“Yeah,” Alicia added, “Unless you want to be visiting your doctor for that strange burning sensation, it’s best to just avoid her.”
“Duly noted,” Max said with a shiver, “I’m not looking to hook up with anyone anytime soon, so thanks for the advice. Who are Ben and Toby? Should I be worried about them?”
Alicia’s wide friendly smile grew, and her brilliant green eyes sparkled with affection. “Now, darlin’, you don’t have to worry about them. They’re the couple that own the restaurant in town. Toby is an amazing chef, and you haven’t lived until you’ve experienced one of his caramel cinnamon rolls.”
Max’s expression lifted. “That sounds heavenly,” she sighed longingly, “too bad my Daniela won’t let me have them in the house. I haven’t had a cinnamon roll in forever.”
“Is she your partner?” JC asked conversationally as Alicia placed a glass of ice water in front of Max.
Max nearly nodded, but caught herself. “My daughter,” she explained, sipping the water gratefully. “She’s allergic to cinnamon, so we don’t bring in anything that contains it. Every so often, though, I’ll indulge while I’m out and about. I’ll definitely stop by the restaurant and order one while she’s out with her friends today.”
Earl stood and waved, tossing a few bills onto the bar. Alicia waved back and set about settling his tab. “Would you like a drink, Max?” she asked, nodding when Theresa signaled for another round and pointed toward the restroom sign.
“Sure,” Max replied with a shrug, “I just came in to see what the place is like, but a drink sounds good. What do you recommend?”
Alicia refilled Theresa’s drink and placed it in front of the woman’s empty stool. “Depends on your poison,” she replied. “If you want a shot; go with the Rooster Tail. If you want a mixed drink; Hillbilly Punch is the way to go. We also have several local brews on tap, and even more by the bottle.”
Alicia handed Max a plastic coated menu. Max glanced at the drink list, noting the ingredients of each mixed drink the bar offered. She’d heard of most of the drinks, but the ‘Local Favorites’ section caught her eye.
“Is the Loose Lesbian any good?” she asked.
Alicia pulled her long blonde curls into a tail and threaded the hair through the back of a baseball cap sporting the name of the bar. “That was JC’s creation,” she chuckled proudly, “If you like taste of tequila and pink lemonade, you’ll love
it. The owners of this place liked it so much, they put it on the menu after one taste.”
Max handed back the menu and nodded. “Sounds great,” she said.
Alicia nodded and pulled a hurricane glass from the rack below the bar. Max’s eyes widened momentarily; she’d been expecting something much smaller. JC noticed the look and stifled a snort.
Alicia was quiet as she poured two measured shots of tequila, half a shot of grapefruit liqueur, and one shot of cinnamon schnapps into the bottom of the glass.
She added two lemon slices and mixed the concoction lightly as she filled the glass to half with pink lemonade. She topped off the drink with lemon-lime flavored soda and rimmed the glass with a lemon wedge, before placing it on a coaster in front of Max.
“Oh, wow,” Max breathed. Dani was going to kill her for having such a strong drink, especially when the redhead was currently relegated to cheap wine and beer from the only store in town.
“It’s strong,” JC offered, sensing Max’s conflict, “but it’s smooth. I’d suggest you either drink it slowly or walk home, though. If you down it too fast, it will knock you on your ass.”
***
“Young, you got a twenty on Max?” Dani asked the empty living room. She’d been home from her outing with Melissa for over an hour, with no word from her wife.
She knew Max was going to do a walk-through of the town, but hadn’t seen the woman at all. Melissa had dragged Dani all over the place, much to the redhead’s chagrin.
Dani enjoyed the chance to take in the majestic beauty of the wooded town, but she’d expected to run into Max at some point. Melissa had started with a walking tour of the center of town, before taking Dani to some of the areas that the local kids liked to loiter.
“She’s stumbling her way up the street now, Dani,” Young replied in her ear, “I think she’s drunk.”
Dani arched her eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “She’s what?” she asked sternly, making her way to the front door.
“Just relax, Agent,” Young advised, “don’t go making a scene. It’s going to look pretty suspicious to the new neighbors if you’re out there yelling at her. Just go outside, wait until she’s close, and act like a concerned daughter helping her mom into the house.”
Dani scoffed and yanked open the door. She stormed outside and scanned the street for any sign of her wife. A moment later, she spied Max coming her way. Dani grunted and muttered under her breath as she made her way out the gate and down the sidewalk.
“Mom, are you alright?” she asked loudly, catching up to Max near the gate of the house three doors down. The young couple playing with their three small kids in the yard offered a smile and a wave.
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Max replied with a giggle, “But, the sidewalk keeps trying to crawl out from under these ridiculous heels.”
Dani rolled her eyes and tried not to laugh. Max was no lightweight when it came to alcohol, but she was outright hilarious when she got even the littlest bit tipsy.
“Here, Mom,” Dani said, threading her arm around Max’s waist, “I’ll walk with you, so the sidewalk doesn’t run away.”
“You’re the best, Daniela,” Max said, pressing a kiss to the top of Dani’s head.
The couple slowly made their way back to the house and Dani was grateful that Max was still capable of holding her own weight.
Max had a good fifty pounds on her, and while Dani was physically quite strong, Max’s height would have made it quite difficult to maneuver her into the house.
Once inside, Dani withdrew her arm, closed the door, and pinned her wife with an icy stare. “Really, Max?” she asked disapprovingly.
Max dropped onto the arm of the couch and struggled to kick off her heels. “I swear to God, Dani,” she said, catching herself with a jolt when she slipped backward onto the cushions.
“I only had one drink. I watched her make the damn thing, too! There’s only three and a half shots of alcohol in it, but damn it was good. We need to get you one when this case is over.”
Dani kept her eyes glued to Max’s lips, using her lip-reading skills to understand the words through the slur. “What kind of drink was it?” she asked.
She’d personally seen Max drink upwards of a dozen shots before she ended up this drunk. The idea that less than four shots had her wife barely able to speak made her suspicious.
Max offered Dani a lopsided grin and finally managed to reclaim her seat on the arm of the couch. “It’s called the Loose Lesbian,” she said.
She explained the contents of the drink, tripping over the names of the alcohol. When she finished, Max tried to stand and promptly bent to put her head between her knees.
“Babe,” Dani couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out, “You’ve had that drink before. Remember your bachelorette party?”
Max’s head lifted, and she struggled to focus on the double image of her beautiful wife. Closing one eye, Max shook her head. She instantly regretted the move.
Dani moved forward and helped Max to sit properly on the couch. “Tiffany insisted on bringing a drink to the party; one her bar sells a ton of. She calls it a Hot, Wet, Pussy. It’s the same thing you just drank. The pink lemonade mix is most likely made with vodka.”
Max groaned and dropped her head into her hands. She could drink with the best of them, but vodka was something she tried to avoid. The strong alcohol tended to work double-time on the agent, getting her drunk with very little consumption.
“Shit,” she muttered, “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t think about that.”
Dani brushed the hair off Max’s forehead and kissed it softly. “You’re going to have one hell of a headache in the morning. I’ll fix you something to eat, and then it’s bed time. If we’re lucky, you’ll wake up in time to get in a good, long shower before school.”
Max grunted, eliciting a chuckle from the redhead. Dani patted Max on the knee and stood to go into the kitchen. Max’s hand shot out and she pulled Dani into her lap.
She brushed a clumsy kiss behind Dani’s ear and whispered, “I have a better idea. How about I cuff you to the bed and eat you for dinner?”
Dani laughed and lifted herself off Max. “Sorry, sweetheart,” she declined with a shake of her head, “last time you drank vodka and tied me up, you had to call Tiffany because you lost the key to the cuffs. I’m not about to let Young or Harrison see me naked because you forgot where you put the key.”
***
The next morning, Max did her best to avoid conversation with anyone. It was difficult, as most of the other staff usually started the day chatting over coffee. Instead of braving the teacher’s lounge, she filled her travel mug and went to her classroom.
Dani had woken her at five, giving Max plenty of time to scald off the reminder of her poor decision. The food Dani had made absorbed most of the alcohol, which kept her from reliving the tasty drink. The shower had helped soothe her protesting body, leaving Max with only the lingering headache as a reminder to know what she’s drinking next time.
When the first bell rang, directing the herd of noisy students into the classroom, Max clamped her hands over her ears. God, I wonder if this is how Dani feels all the time in loud situations.
The students filed into the room and dropped into their seats, happily chatting away at an octave Max was certain violated some kind of noise ordinance.
“Alright, everyone,” Max said, bringing the students’ attention to the front of the room, “We’re going to be doing something different, today.”
Curious murmurs floated about the room, assaulting Max’s throbbing brain. She raised a hand and the class quieted.
“I want you all to write me a story. Pick your favorite childhood memory and write a story based on that memory. You can make the story true-to-life or fantastical, the choice is yours. My only requirements are that your stories be told using first-person narrative, and that you refrain from talking while you write. They are due at the end of the period, so use your t
ime wisely.”
The students glanced at each other curiously, but kept quiet as they got to work. Max spent the period watching the expressions on each student’s face as they wrote, gauging the kind of memory they were reliving.
She smiled to herself when she saw that all of the students were also smiling as they worked on the assignment. Max decided the assignment would be good for all her classes that day, and made a notation on her lesson plan.
She’d have the students write their stories today, and spend the next day letting them share their memories. Max was all for education, but also felt that kids needed to be comfortable in order to learn properly.
“Alright, class,” Max said a few moments before the bell rang, “bring your assignments to me. Tomorrow, you’ll be reading them aloud and sharing your memories with the class.”
The students filed neatly to Max’s desk, and she dismissed them when she had their papers. Once the kids were out of the room, Max pulled a bottle of headache pills out of her purse and swallowed two with a big gulp of tepid coffee. With a grimace, she gathered her cup and headed down to the teacher’s lounge for a refill.
***
“How long did the headache last?” Dani asked as she set a plate in front of Max.
Max inhaled the succulent aroma of chicken alfredo and roasted veggies with a sigh. “Oh, baby, this smells amazing.” She picked up her fork and speared a piece of zucchini while she waited for Dani to join with her own plate.
“The headache went away after your class. How was your day? Learn anything of importance?” she asked slurping a noodle from her fork.
“I learned that there is zero chance any of my classmates will be solving the Reimann hypothesis in the near future,” Dani replied with a shrug.
“Dani!” Max snorted, “Be nice, they’re just kids. And no one can solve the Reimann hypothesis, that’s why it’s the last of the Millennium Prize Problems.”
Dani narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose disapprovingly. “Max, Mr. Restin wrote a math problem on the board with the instruction to solve for ‘X’. Two, two,” she held up two fingers for emphasis, “of the boys thought he was telling them to solve the problem for their ex-girlfriends.”
