Murder on the Rocks

by Clara Nipper

  Penelope pulled out the plug and eased herself off me. I opened my arms to receive her and she scowled. She lay on her back next to me and opened her legs wide enough to split in two. She began slipping her fingers inside until I stood up. I pulled her to the edge of the bed and teased her cunt with the cock. She whined and gyrated. I started to plunge in, but she closed her knees. She placed her pussy-wet finger on my lips. I nodded and rummaged in her bedside table drawer for a dam. All she had was a roll of Saran so I wrapped her and began licking and sucking. And so it went, all night.

  When I woke, I still had the dildo strapped on me and Penelope was gone.

  Penelope’s bedroom was blindingly bright with morning sun. I heard ice sliding off trees and roofs and crashing to the ground. The generator must have run out of gas.

  I stood up slowly, stepped out of the strap-on, and limped to the bathroom. I was just assessing myself in the mirror when Penelope appeared, perfectly groomed and dressed in a silk skirt and cashmere twinset. She threw my clothes at me and said, “Come on, stud. Let’s go.”

  She began to turn away then approached again. “God, you have a fine ass for a jasper.” She bent and chomped me hard on one buttock.

  I jerked away. “That’s enough. Just let me dress.” I held out the harness and dildo. “You can put this in the dishwasher now.”

  Penelope took it and unnerved me by watching as I put all my clothes back on. It took a while because I had been layered against the cold.

  She never said another word until she pulled her car to a stop in front of Sophie’s. “It was fun. I’ll call you.” She reached across me and opened my door.

  I got out, my spine popping, my legs aching a little. Before I could turn to say good-bye, Penelope sped away, slipping on the ice that was still too thick to have melted.

  I stood, blinking in the sunshine like a lost mole. I clicked my lighter and did a few finger passes. I walked up the stairs and noticed Sophie bundled in a parka and wearing sunglasses and holding binoculars, sitting on the top step.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Sophie jerked the binoculars to her face and studied something in the distance with great concentration. I turned to look at whatever she was watching. “Power trucks,” Sophie said. “I’ve seen them all over the neighborhood. They’ve got to be getting close.”

  I laughed. “Getting a little impatient?”

  Sophie raised the binocs to look at my face, flinched, and lowered them. “Are those hickies? You nasty dog.”

  “What? Uh, no. Just bruises from…work.” I raised my collar.

  “That is so tacky,” Sophie said and raised the binoculars again to stare down the street. “I saw one! I saw it!”

  “Hey, my cell needs to be charged, can I plug it into your car?”

  “Mine’s out there now, but you can after mine is finished.” Sophie answered faintly, still gazing at the horizon.

  My phone rang. “Rogers, hurry, my phone is going dead.”

  “You tiger,” Marny purred. “I knew you would like her.”

  “Like her? I’ve never met her.”

  “What? Penelope told me—”

  “She spoke to you? Because she never said a word to me, just put my money on the dresser.”

  “Ooo, that’s a very good sign.”

  “She never even kissed me!” I said.

  “Am I sensing dissatisfaction? Of all people—”

  “No,” I said, watching Sophie. “No, I just think I was had.”

  Marny’s laugh gurgled. “Of course you were, darling. I told her you were pure sex on legs. That she should eat you on a cracker and forget the cracker.” Marny laughed again. “So, you’re welcome. You owe me, darling.”

  “I owe you a slap. I was two hundred pounds of chum!”

  Marny giggled. “Don’t you love that feeling? You’re welcome,” she repeated.

  “You’re welcome to kiss my Injun ass.”

  “You know I only experimented in college and that was for a luscious sable coat. So I’m calling because there’s a new case.”

  “Tell me.” I sat next to Sophie in the sun.

  “I see it!” Sophie yelled, dropping the binoculars onto the frozen grass and taking off at a careful trot, her booted feet thumping on the ice as I saw a big white truck lumber around the corner.

  “The entire city is shut down; I can’t get any motherfucking tobacco, but people can still kill each other.” I checked my pouch for cigarettes: only twelve left. I put a Camel in my mouth, rolled my Zippo in a finger pass up and down, up and down, finally, lighting my cigarette and puffing contentedly into the warmth of the sunshine, enjoying listening to the ice drop like slushy stones into the melt. The ice that had held the city in its clear, slick prison, hard as diamonds, heavy as gravity, dangerous as poison, was finally loosening its death grip and sliding away, drop by drop, chunk by chunk, leaving us to clean up.

  “Be that as it may, Socrates, there’s a couple you need to talk to before you go to the scene.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Southside Willie and L Bow.”

  “Not the gruesome twosome.”

  “Oh, darling, do you like your job or not?”

  “What is this?”

  “All right, here’s where to go.”

  My phone went dead. “Damn!”

  Sophie came around the corner, looking dejected. She dropped down next to me with a sigh. “Gimme one.” She took a cigarette, put it in her mouth, and leaned close to touch her cigarette to mine. For a few dazzling seconds, our faces were so close. But then I worried she could smell last night on me so I pulled back. Sophie inhaled and closed her eyes. “So here’s the deal. They won’t get to us today. They are repairing grids by size priority. The grids that serve the largest number of people get fixed first. And this,” Sophie gestured to Maple Park, “is one of the smallest grids in town. Who knew? Who thinks of that when buying a house?”

  “So any ETA?”

  Sophie laughed bitterly. “Couple of days doubtful, next week definitely.”

  “Next week?” I yelled.

  “Yeah.” Sophie shrugged. “But at least we have water, right?” She shook her head, smoking thoughtfully.

  “Next week, I can’t do that. I just can’t do it. I can’t,” I babbled. “I’ll go stay in a hotel or I’ll check myself into the hospital. I just can’t do it.”

  Sophie stared at me. “What is the matter with you? Why are you so upset?”

  “I—” the words froze in my throat and I didn’t say, “because I’m in love with you and it’s torture to stay here, but I can’t go home.” The thought of being in love was so new to me that I shut my mouth and stared stubbornly at the skyline.

  “Hey, the courthouse has power, so you can at least go to your office, right?” Sophie said.

  I turned on her. “My office is at city hall, not the goddamned courthouse, okay? If you want me to leave, just say so!” I was panting and I stared at Sophie, wanting to hate her. This was all her fault. Sophie raised her eyebrows and exterminated the cigarette with a small hiss in a puddle on the sidewalk. I would love to kiss her now. To taste my tobacco in her mouth.

  She said, “Stay, go, courthouse, city hall, Jimmy crack corn and I don’t care.” She stood and returned to the house.

  “Jimmy crack corn and she don’t care,” I said to myself as I plugged my phone into Sophie’s car to recharge. “I’ll be goddamned.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I turned when I heard a car horn. It was Perryman leaning out to yell at me, “Come on! We have him in custody!”

  As I walked down the drive to join Perryman, I noticed Sophie watching me quizzically as she swept slush off the front steps. “I’ll be home for dinner, honey!” I said.

  “Bite me,” Sophie said. “Why don’t you bring dinner for once?”

  I blew a kiss and slammed Perryman’s car door.

  “Your wife?” Perryman said sourly.

  “I’m touched! You do
care. Don’t be upset. There’s plenty of me to go around.” I slid the seat all the way back, propped my feet on the dash, and lit a cigarette.

  Perryman stopped the car, swatted my boots, pinched my cigarette, and flicked it out the window, and thumped her index finger on the scab on my forehead. “Put your feet down, no smoking, and shut up, you immature savage.”

  “You are such a rag.”

  “Detective Rogers, remember yourself.”

  I had nothing to say to that so we rode in silence. I played with my Zippo. “This slush,” Perryman finally said, holding the steering wheel steadily against the bucking car, “is more treacherous,” Perryman grunted, braking and turning away from a mogul, “than solid ice.”

  “And so close to Christmas too.” I mused, bracing myself as the car jolted.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing,” I said with a smile.

  We parked at the county jail. The long, low building was lurid with lights against the darkening skyline. I could see another gray cloud bank fattening and building in the north, gradually obliterating the deep, clear blue sky.

  “This place was relying on a huge supply of emergency generators for a few days. Then PSO got them back on the grid,” Perryman said as we crunched and splashed toward the door.

  I thought of Sophie’s dark, silent home and my own stone-cold house abandoned all these days. Perryman signed us in and we went to an interrogation room and waited.

  “Here are his new charges.” Perryman handed me a booking sheet.

  “Phew!” I said. “Resisting arrest, obstructing, assault and battery on a police officer, defrauding an innkeeper, throwing human waste on police officer. Defrauding an innkeeper?”

  “Found him holed up in a Motel 6. They tipped us.”

  There was a rattling of chains and unlocking of doors, and Rick Goodson shuffled in and sat at the table.

  “You want him locked to the wall, Sheriff?”

  “No, thank you. We’ll be fine.”

  The door locked behind the deputy and we were alone with the suspect. He looked haggard and had a black eye.

  “Well, well, well, Ricky, what do you have to say for yourself?” I slid the booking sheet toward him. “This was quite a scene. Was it your honeymoon?”

  Goodson said nothing.

  “This will go so much better for you if you cooperate. You’re just making the inevitable also painful. Don’t I always say that, Dana? I always say it’s better to cooperate.”

  “Every single day,” Perryman said.

  Goodson was silent.

  “Come on, Ricky. Tell us what really happened. You’ll feel better,” I said.

  “I don’t know how you fabricated this case against me, but it will never stick. I didn’t do this, and when I get out, I’ll sue you into hell,” Rick said through gritted teeth.

  “Well, I’ve got something to show you.” Perryman removed from her briefcase two clear evidence bags. One contained small snow boots and the other, large rubber shoe soles. “Mind explaining that?”

  Goodson shrugged. “A bag of trash?”

  “Precisely! Glad you mentioned that.” Perryman produced one last bag containing large snow boots with the soles cut off. The edges of the boots were ragged where a serrated knife had sloppily sawed.

  “You got a rabbit in there too?” I asked.

  “If it would help convict this son of a bitch, I sure would.” Perryman grinned.

  “Hey, wait a minute!” Goodson cried. “You’re gonna try to railroad me into prison! Well, fuck you; I’m innocent.”

  “Then why are you still sitting here, my friend?” I asked. “Why don’t you demand your lawyer, clam up, and go back to your cell?” I stroked the table as if it were Sophie’s thigh. Goodson licked his lips. “I’ll tell you why. Because you’re guilty and you want to know what we have on you. How good our case is.” I stared him down until he dropped his eyes then I whispered, “Our case is solid. How good is your attorney?”

  “Your evidence is that?” Goodson sneered at the shoes.

  “Yep,” Perryman said. “You thought everything through. You were really smart. Gotta give you props for smart.”

  A smile twitched on to Goodson’s face for a split second.

  “You have small feet and you knew we’d check footprints at the scene, so you bought these boats,” Perryman held up the bag with the mutilated boot tops, “and you cut off the soles. Then, see this?” Perryman pointed to the large, rubber soles in another bag. “You glued the bottoms to your own shoes. See here? These fit together nicely and they both have glue residue on them. Now, when you deliberately tromped through the scene, you’d mislead us into looking for a huge man. Very smart.”

  These were the moments I lived for. To sift through garbage and get to nail a piece of trash.

  Sweat had popped out on Goodson’s upper lip. He furtively swiped at it and then tried to laugh. “That’s it? You gotta be kidding me.”

  “Capital murder, son,” I said. I clicked open my Zippo, struck a flame, and did a graceful, rolling finger pass.

  “How do you not get burned?” Perryman asked me.

  “Because I know better,” I said, staring at Goodson.

  “I need to call the DA.” Goodson stood and pounded on the door. When the guard opened it, Goodson barked, “Get Jim Harrison on the phone.” The guard said nothing and closed the door and re-locked it.

  “Jesus Jimmy being your friend isn’t going to help you now,” I said.

  “Why were you staying at the Motel 6?” Perryman asked.

  “None of your goddamn business!” Goodson said.

  “You’re wrong there. Now that you’re being charged with murder, everything in your whole life is ours. If we need to know what you got for Christmas when you were six, we’ll interrogate your mother. You’ve forfeited any claim on your life,” I said.

  “What about innocent until proven guilty?” Goodson said.

  “That twaddle is for the courts. It’s just the three of us and we all know what happened,” I said. I heard Alistair say “twaddle” and “rubbish,” and I liked them both and had begun using them.

  “I know about Jessica,” Perryman said hoarsely. Goodson jerked as if he had been touched with an electric wire, and he glared at the sheriff with eyes blazing. “And that your marriage was over.”

  “What?” Goodson stalled.

  “We also know about the debt,” I said.

  “The what? You’re not making any sense.”

  “And I have your cell records,” Perryman added.

  “You what?”

  “We also have your computer, but there’s no reason for us to get a forensic analyst into all that is there? If you help us, we’ll help you,” I bluffed.

  The silence that followed was like a sound vacuum. None of us moved. Finally, Goodson stood and said, “I did not do this. I am finished cooperating.”

  “Funny, you haven’t even started,” I said.

  “That’s fine, sir. Thank you for talking to us. Here’s my card,” Perryman tried to hand it to Goodson, who let it drop to the floor. “Just call me if you change your mind.” Perryman pounded on the door and the guard let all of us out.

  On the way to Perryman’s car, I capered around her like a puppy. “Slam dunk, Perryman!”

  She smiled, her entire face glowing. “Thank you,” then more to herself, “I will make something good out of that sow’s ear office. Just watch me.”

  When she dropped me off at Sophie’s, she said, “See you in court!”

  When I opened the front door, I smelled pizza. “Not again,” I groaned.

  Sophie appeared with a bottle of red wine. “Is there a woman on earth you won’t fuck, Rogers?”

  I grinned. “Just one.”

  “I got your cell out of my car, and it has been ringing nonstop. Take care of it, will you?” Sophie viciously yanked the cork from the wine bottle and went to the living room.

  I followed her and knelt befor
e the dark fireplace and lit it. “Where’s Alistair?”

  “Don’t worry. He’s here.” Sophie paused, sighing voluptuously. “He’s in the shower.”

  Before I could slap her, my phone rang. “I better take this,” I snapped.

  “Step outside with your dirt. I don’t want to hear it,” Sophie said.

  “Fuck you,” I told Sophie, who smiled. She had never looked more appetizing. I took the call on the front porch.

  “Have you ever been to Tijuana?” the voice asked.

  “Penelope! Hello, baby, what you know good?”

  “You free tonight?” She giggled. The lighthearted laugh disguised her ground-zero-style seduction.

  I thought quickly. My back was still in spasm from our last evening together. “Oh, I’m sorry, honey pot. I’m busy with the man tonight.”

  “What’s he got you doing?” Penelope moaned with longing. My clit twitched, trying to change my mind.

  “Oh, you know, stompin’ devils.”

  “I hear that. Well, may the Lord bless you or the mortuary will dress you. I’ll call another time.” She hung up. I suspected she was already dialing someone else. Before I could return inside, my phone rang.

  “You curbin’ me?” Marny asked.

  “No, phone’s been dead.”

  “You don’t have power yet?”

  “No, do you?”

  “Of course, silly. And it is wonderful. I’m running the television, computer, vacuum, dishwasher, microwave, and of course, I have the heat up as high as it will go. How are you?”

  “Fine. What about that other murder?”

  “No worries. They sent Holmes out.”

  “Holmes! I am sitting on my thumb with nothing to do and no power and you call Holmes?”

  “Oh, dear, what a bore.”

  “Where is it?”

  “I left my files at the office. Are you ever going to report to the chief by the way?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “From what, work to work?”

  “Where’s the scene?”

  Marny sighed. “You need a wife.”

  “Where’s the scene, Claw?”