“No, thanks for asking though. I got that young Martin boy mowing it for me. He comes again tomorrow. I can’t do it myself anymore. I can barely manage to weed my flower beds. Darned arthritis,” she said, rubbing her knees.
After getting the lowdown on the medical condition of her friends at church, Amber and I left Grandma Betty’s and drove to the café for lunch.
“Hi Grandma,” Amber called out to Georgia as we came through the back door.
“Hi, sweetie. How are you and Nick getting along?” Georgia said with a big smile.
“Fine, we went to see Grandma Great,” Amber informed her. “And, guess what, Uncle Nick bought me five toys at Ace is the place. And we got books at the ‘libary’. Uncle Nick is going to teach me how to read.”
“Nick Sloan, you are going to spoil her rotten,” Georgia said pulling me for a hug. “No wonder my son loves you.”
“Grandma, can I have a peanut butter sandwich, please?” Amber asked.
“Sure, honey. You two sit at the bar, and I’ll get you a sandwich. Nick, you want a turkey sandwich?” Georgia asked.
Chapter 4
After splashing in the pool, Amber was still full of energy, so I got out the Frisbee and gently tossed it to her. She missed the first few throws but eventually started catching my easy tosses. The little four-year-old flung her arm back and fired the Frisbee like she was launching a missile. It flew over my head and out into the high bushes beside the creek.
There was no way I could have caught that toss. I ran over to where I thought it had landed and tramped my way through the damp undergrowth. That’s when it hit my nostrils, the smell, an order of death and decay that I had smelled many times on the battlefields of Iraq. I wanted to puke, but I kept my reserve. Then I saw something familiar. Black Mylar was sticking out from under a pile of weeds and brush. It was a body bag, most likely Army surplus. The Frisbee had landed on top of the heap as if Heaven itself had helped little Amber find my way to this location.
I picked up the Frisbee and backed away trying not to disturb anything around the area. Trying not to show any alarm, I get her dolly and play on the blanket while I made a phone call. I walked a few feet away out of the listening range of Amber. Fishing my cell from my pocket, I dialed 9-1-1.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” the voice asked.
“Yes, I think that I have found a dead body,” I said calmly. “Oh, and I have a child here, so please tell the officer’s not to run their sirens.”
I gave the dispatcher my name and address and waited for law enforcement. I tried to think of who did this and who was in the bag. “Please God, don’t let it be Natalie,” I silently prayed.
Next, I called Georgia. “Hi, it’s Nick. Can you leave the café for a minute to come and get Amber? No, nothing’s wrong, she’s fine. It’s just that there is a situation down by the creek and the cops are on their way. Georgia, listen to me, don’t worry about it. I don’t want Amber to be here when the cops arrive. It might scare her. Okay, thanks.”
It was only a matter of minutes before Georgia raced her car up the driveway and ran inside. “What’s wrong, Nick?” she said, gasping for air.
“I told you not to worry. The Deputies should be here any minute. I think I found a crime scene down by the creek. I’ll tell you about it later. Just take Amber with you before they show up,” I said.
Georgia seemed to settle down and took Amber with her. As she was pulling out of the driveway, a county prowler pulled in. The lights were flashing, but no siren, as I had requested. Thank God, it was Deputy Luker.
“Nick, I took the call from dispatch as soon as I heard it come on the radio,” Josh said.
“Thanks, buddy, I appreciate it. I was playing Frisbee with Amber a few minutes ago and stumbled upon a Mylar body bag with a dead body in it down by the creek,” I said.
“Are you sure? I mean, how do you know?” Deputy Luker asked.
“The smell of death is something you never forget,” I explained.
I led him to where I had found the pile of brush and pointed to the edge of the body bag.
“You have a camera on your phone,” Josh said. “Start taking pictures as I tell you to. We don’t have a forensics lab anywhere close, and with this heat, we need to get this into a cooler as soon as possible to protect the evidence.” He reached to his shoulder and clicked the mic. “Dispatch, this is Luker, 10-23, arrived at the scene.” There was squelch noise and then a flurry of cop talk between Luker and Dispatch. I gathered that he requested the Coroner bring a vehicle to handle the body.
While I waited with Josh, another Deputy arrived with sirens blaring and lights flashing, so much for asking for silencing the sirens. The whole town would now know that something was happening at the trailer. I could understand. However, this kind of thing didn’t happen in our small town. Murder, if this was a homicide, was rare in this rural outpost. A Deputy would be on high alert for a call like this from dispatch.
Between the two deputies, they quickly cleared the debris covering the body bag and hauled it to my lawn. I took pictures with my cell phone as directed by Deputy Luker. Although the scene was morbid, I wanted to laugh at the Deputies as they ran to the weeds to puke. I didn’t take pictures of that activity.
“Is this your first dead body?” I asked.
They both nodded that it was and both were embarrassed. I told them it was okay. I vomited the first time I had to handle a dead body. They seemed to relax a bit after I told them about my experience. Deputy Luker introduced me to Deputy Simons. He was also new to the Department and had only worked there for about a year. Simons took my statement.
I explained about the gunshots outside my window the previous Tuesday. I didn’t say anything about having guns in the house, as none of them were registered in my name and they didn’t need to know that piece of information. I told Simons that I had retrieved the shell casings from the lawn and had them in the house. He went to his Cruiser for an evidence envelope and some paperwork to fill out for the Coroner. I watched as he carefully labeled the envelope and dropped in the shell casing and sealed it closed. I also filled Simon’s in on the Chevy Impala from the previous night, and I thought it might be the same car I had seen on the night of the gunshots.
The Coroner’s van pulled in behind Simon’s cruiser, and behind the Coroner, I saw Dave pull in the drive and pull up on the lawn. He was running to the front door with a look of panic on his face. I ran out the front door to meet him. “It’s okay Dave. I’m okay, and Amber is with your mom,” I told him.
“What’s with the Deputy Cruiser’s and the van?” he asked.
“I found a dead body down by the creek, in a body bag, no less,” I answered.
“Who?” he started to ask.
“We don’t know yet. I sent Amber with Mom so she wouldn’t see any of this and ask questions,” I told him.
Dave grabbed me in a bear hug and kissed me long and hard. We were interrupted by Deputy Simons clearing his throat to get our attention.
“Sorry, this is Dave Weston, my,” I almost stammered in search of a word other than lover to explain his relationship to me, but I caught myself and carried on, “boyfriend.” That millisecond of thought and giving the answer that I did make Dave smile and blush. Deputy Simon’s didn’t bridle at my introduction, and the two shook hands.
Forms completed, i’s dotted, t’s crossed, and signatures finalized, the Coroner left the scene with the body in the back of the van. I attached the pictures from my phone to an email and sent them to Deputy Luker at his county email address. When Simon’s wasn’t listening, Josh also gave Dave and me his personal cell number and email address.
After the commotion had cleared, Dave and I decided to go to his house and get a load of his things and bring them to the trailer. As we worked, we talked about various theories of who could be in the body bag. Fortunately, there were no paparazzi in a rural state like Wyoming. We were able to go about our business without interference. It would
be at least a day or two before the body was identified and we would just have to wait.
Apparently, I had passed my first test to become a Deputy Sheriff. I didn’t fuck up the crime scene. I had all the pertinent information available. I had saved the evidence. But, most important of all, I kept my composure, despite wanting to heave my guts out. That’s what Army training had given me.
We got all of his clothes, and some of his personal things moved and put away. We were hot and sweaty from working in the heat of the summer afternoon. Stripping down, we got in the shower. Dave proceeded to lather my body with suds and concentrating on my now erect cock. I was doing the same with him. His body was damn-near-perfect, and it made me horny as hell to be rubbing and kissing him. I took the handheld and rinsed him of the body wash, then sank to my knees and opened my mouth to receive his hardness. The sensations were electric and erotic. I loved doing this with him. His hand moved to either side of my head and began to feed himself to me by pumping his hips. My hands grasped those perfect ass cheeks and pulled further into my salivating mouth. The bliss of sexual gratification swept through his body, and he began to blast his seed onto my willing tongue.
Standing up before him, I clung to him as he regained his senses. Then he went down on me, fulfilling my needs for gratification. With his eager lips prodding my pole, I came instantly. The feelings were just too much for me to hold my desire for orgasm. With time and practice, we would both become better at making love. The warm feelings after were just as thrilling as we toweled one another dry and helped each other dress.
“I love you, Dave,” I said holding his hand and leading him to his pickup.
“I love you, too, Nick. I’m happy that I’ll be living with you now,” he told me.
I’m sure the Georgia knew what we had been up to when we walked in the back door of the café. We both wore big grins on our faces and were more than relaxed. A dead giveaway that we had sex before coming to dinner.
Amber was clinging to Dave’s side begging to be pulled up into his strong arms. “Was that Depady Josh at Uncle Nick’s when Grandma came to pick me up?” she asked. “He had big lights flashing on his car.”
“Yes, it was Deputy Josh. Cool car, huh?” I answered.
“Yeah, cool car,” she responded.
“What was that all about?” Georgia asked. Dave took Amber out front while I gave her the lowdown on what we knew so far.
“Oh my God, Nick. That scares me. Do I need to be sleeping with my gun?” she asked.
“Nah, just make sure your doors are locked. I don’t think this had anything to do with a robbery or anything like that. Whoever did this probably thought my place was abandoned and just used it to drop the body?” I told her.
“None-the-less, I’m glad I still have Karl living downstairs to protect Amber and me,” Georgia said with a forced smile.
Dave and I went home that night. It was our home now. I was a happy man having him living there. The next two days passed, and finally, Deputy Luker called.
“Hi Nick, sorry for the delay. It took a while to verify the Coroner’s identification of the body. It’s a man named Lambert, first name, Jared, 36 years old, from Charleston, West Virginia. Did you ever hear of the guy?” Deputy Luker asked.
“Can’t recall that I’ve ever heard of anyone by that name, but I’ll ask Dave when he gets home and let you know,” I said. “West Virginia, huh? Wonder what he’s doing in Onyx, Wyoming. That seems a little odd.”
“It did until the Coroner said that the guy had needle marks on both arms and between his fingers and toes. Heroin junky. I understand that heroin is the drug of choice back east. We’re still dealing with meth,” Deputy Luker told me.
“Were the shell casings from the homicide?” I asked.
“Whoa, whoa, hold up there, we don’t know if this was a homicide, yet, but the casings are 9 mm, and most likely from hollow point rounds. The forensics lab in Cheyenne will have to determine if they are tied to the shooting. The Coroner told me that there were no exit wounds to the body and that is probably why you didn’t find any blood evidence in your front yard,” Luker said.
“My money says that the guy was murdered and it was a drug deal gone bad,” I said.
“Mine too, but I’ll need more answers before I can turn it over to the prosecutor as a crime. The only reason I’m telling you this is that you’re gonna see the evidence once you are with the Department,” he said.
“That reminds me, I haven’t heard anything from Sheriff Lassiter. When does the next academy start?” I asked.
“Two weeks,” Luker said.
“Roger that,” I said in mock cop talk.
The next two weeks were an adjustment of Dave learning to live with me. I had lived with forty men in my platoon. Dave had lived at home all his life and had not shared sleeping quarters, even with his older brother. Dave liked to sprawl across the mattress and laid his arms and legs over me as he slept. It wasn’t that I minded. I liked the touch of his body on me and near me.
No, it was more of an adjustment for Dave sleeping with me. Luckily, I didn’t show any symptoms of PTSD, at least so far, but I did on occasion have nightmares which scared the shit out of Dave the first few times I woke up yelling at my dad and punching my pillow with my fists. Dave was able to settle me down and get me back to a calm sleep. I guess I was carrying the burden of abuse as a child, but I tried not to let it affect me. It just popped up sometimes in my subconscious dream state.
The snoring didn’t seem to be a problem for either of us to sleep through. Likewise, the belching and farting was just par for the course of two grown-ass men living together. The sex was lust filled and fun as we learned what we liked. Initially, anal was difficult for both of us, but we found the ways to make it highly erotic and pleasurable, but both of us agreed to versatility, and both of us loved giving and receiving.
We worked out our routine for the time being, and I bided my time until it was time to leave and make the five-hour drive to Douglas, Wyoming and the Peace Officer Standards and Training campus. That first week was depressing. It reminded me of my first week at basic at Fort Sill. However, this time, I was older, more mature and I missed Dave even more than when I left him to go into the Army. Dave and I had now consummated our relationship, and there was no going back, only forward.
After getting back into the drill of a regimented training, I did great. I liked the guys that I was with and it was good to get back to PT training early every morning. Some of the men were overweight and out of shape, but the physical training was no problem for me. The class work time was also not a problem having had class work in the Army. I felt like I could easily ace the program and set my sites on graduation at the end of October.
Driving home Friday night, I got a call from Dave, telling me that there had been an incident at the café that afternoon and he needed to get my input on what to do. He told me he wanted to talk in person and not over the phone, which worried me a little. This was going to be something important, and I fretted as I made that long drive across Wyoming.
Pulling into the driveway, I little after 10:00 p.m., Dave was waiting for me at the front door with a big wet kiss and an ice-cold beer.
“Hey, Dave, it’s good to be in your arms again,” I said as he hugged me tightly.
“I love you, Nick. I’m glad your home,” he said with a big smile. “Let me take your duffle, and you sit your ass down.”
“I love you, too, Dave. Now, what was so important that you couldn’t talk to me on the phone about it?” I asked.
“Sit down first. I brought home some dinner for you. The special was chicken fried steak today, not that Berto was able to cook,” Dave said.
“Why was he sick or something?” I asked.
“Nope, Immigration showed up and took him away,” Dave said sadly.
“ICE? WFT? Isn't he here legally? What about a green card? He has worked for your mom forever. I don’t understand,” I said.
“Appar
ently, Berto has been working for her on a forged social security card. Mom didn’t know until the Agent told her. She’s been paying his taxes on his salary just like any other employee. She’s just sick over this. Berto has been like a relative. He’s worked for Mom for years. Berto taught me how to cook in the café,” Dave said. He looked worried at the prospected of Berto being deported.
“What about his wife and kids?” I asked.
“Mom called his house right after they took Berto away. One of his cousins said that Carmina and the children left for Arizona after they got a strange phone call,” Dave told me.
“I’m glad they got away, but without Berto to earn a living for them, I hope they will be okay,” I said. “What about hiring an immigration attorney?”
Dave just looked at me like I was an idiot.
“I know. Money,” I said, realizing my stupid comment.
“Mom’s problem is that she can’t cook and run the place and without Natalie, she doesn’t have anyone to help. I mean, can you imagine Grandma Betty waiting tables at the café?” Dave said with a laugh.
“Hardly, if one of the ranchers pinched Grandma Betty’s behind, she’d likely smack him into next week,” I said with a laugh as Dave handed me a warmed plate of dinner.
“Gawd, this is good food. It’s only been a week, and I’m sick of cafeteria food,” I grumbled. “Why don’t you quit your job at the mines and be the cook for your mom? It’s not like you haven’t done it before.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I want to help out Mom at the café. It wouldn’t pay as much as I make at the mine,” Dave said with a nervous look on his face.
I stopped eating and pulled Dave into my arms. “That is just one of the reason’s I love you. I told you before, you don’t have to worry about money. You also know that I don’t like you working out at the mines anyway. I think this is a great idea, and besides, it will be easier to take care of Amber between the three of us if you are working with your mom,” I said.
Waiting for You Page 6