Eddie, My Love

by Patricia Green

  "Did you kill her, Grayson?" Eddie asked, almost sure that the man would answer yes, as much out of spite as bravado.

  "No, I didn't fucking kill her. She killed herself, or are you so stupid you can't read? It was in all the papers."

  Eddie ground his teeth together, tempted to tear the guy a new one, but June's soft sound calmed him. "Okay, Mr. Grayson," June said, tugging on Eddie's arm. "We're all done here. I'm sorry for your loss."

  "Yeah, sorry, yeah, yeah, yeah," Grayson sneered.

  June practically pulled Eddie out of the house. It took him a few minutes, sitting in the car quietly, before his temper cleared. The feeling of not holding back when confronted with evil was heady. He had to somehow play his part and yet keep his civility. When he was back in his own time, that civility was as much a part of him as breathing. Good thing he wasn't really a private eye; it didn't seem to sit on him well.

  "You okay?"

  Eddie nodded and let out a deep breath. He took a PEZ out of its container and sucked it. The cigarette smoke from Grayson's house clung to him like shit to his shoe. It stank up his suit and now spread into his car.

  "Let's go, Eddie."

  He started the car. "Yeah."

  * * * * *

  Back in the downtown corridor, they stopped at a place called Woolworths and went in. It was a kind of all-purpose shop, with long aisles full of toys, canned goods, household decorations, and patent remedies. Period music wafted through ceiling speakers, a subtle, pleasant tune without words. June would have liked to look around, soak in some of the 1950s feeling, maybe smell some of the perfumes she saw on display, but Eddie led her over to a long steel-topped red counter with red vinyl-topped, attached stools in front. There were a number of people sitting at the bar, eating all kinds of wonderful smelling things, some sandwiches—with real bread!—some bowls of something that smelled like soup and a few had meat dishes with gravy on top. It all looked delicious and June's mouth watered. She eagerly sat down on the stool Eddie indicated.

  A man in a white uniform with a little peaked cap over his dark blond hair came over and pulled menus out from behind the napkin dispenser. "Coffee, folks?"

  "Cherry coke," Eddie responded.

  June didn't know what that was exactly, but she liked cherries. "I'll have the same."

  "Comin' right up!"

  They sat there silently, studying the menus for a few minutes.

  "Hungry?"

  June nodded. She was famished. Breakfast had been elusive as she didn't know how to cook any of the things in her refrigerator—a device that was seriously intimidating, and very pink.

  "What do you want, sugar?"

  "I don't know. Something with bread." Real bread. She hadn't had real bread since her last trip to Paris. The European Union had tried very hard to get the French to get rid of bread when the fungal epidemic had hit, but they staunchly refused. It was now one of the few places on the planet where you could get a warm baguette or a croissant.

  Eddie smiled. "I'm going to have a hamburger."

  "With bread?"

  Eddie looked at her very strangely. "Um…yeah."

  Well, if he was from the twenty-second century, as June suspected, he wouldn't likely have had many hamburger buns either. To her, a hamburger was a patty of meat with ketchup on it. Having the same with bread sounded too good to pass up. "I'll have that, too."

  "Copycat," he teased.

  Smiling, June replaced her menu. Their drinks came along within seconds and she had her first taste of real Coca-Cola with cherry syrup. Sugar! It was full of sugar! At first, she found it too sweet, but the cloying taste was mitigated by the bubbles and it kind of grew on her. By the time the food arrived, she was crazy about the drink. She had another while she ate the hamburger. And they had real French fries, golden brown, crisp, hot, and salty. The food smelled and tasted like nothing she'd had before. Oh my goodness, but it was a feast. She felt like a bloated cow when she was done eating, but a happy bloated cow.

  Pushing his plate away, Eddie looked over at June. She'd wiped the last of the ketchup off her lips and smiled at him contentedly.

  "I don't think he did it, despite the fact that he's scum." His eyes were on her and a small, thoughtful frown creased his brow.

  June wasn't positive about Arthur's innocence, but, like Eddie, she had her doubts. Arthur was awful, that was true, but he was all show. She didn't think he could be deceptive enough to get away with it. Certainly, he hadn't tried to cover up his disagreement with Elizabeth, nor his visit, nor the reason for his visit, all of which could be damning. But June was curious about why Eddie was so sure. "What are you thinking?"

  "It's a puzzle, but I don't think Arthur is a piece. He's not smart enough, for one thing."

  June had to agree, though she wasn't counting Arthur out all the way. He was still a difficult character and you didn't have to be smart to be canny. "I can't be sure."

  Eddie paid the bill with two green paper notes, and left all but three tokens behind when he stood. She recognized the tokens from an old vid; they were money. "And he's not left-handed," he said with finality as he rose from his seat. June readied to follow him out, but Eddie gestured her back down.

  "Hold on, doll. I need to make a call first."

  "But-"

  "I'll be right back."

  Eddie got a thick book from the counter person and consulted it for a moment. June got a glimpse at it, and saw that it was a book with many names, addresses, and telephone numbers. It was just plain astonishing that everyone would choose to have their name and address published for anyone to see. Such a thing would never be done in her time. It was far too invasive.

  Giving the book back, Eddie walked away from the counter and went to a payphone on the wall. While he was away, June checked to make sure her lunch wasn't all over her face, by looking into her little compact mirror. She took the opportunity to dab on some more of the deep red lipstick she found in her purse, and touched a powder puff to her nose as she'd seen other women do. She looked pretty appropriate for the period by the time she'd touched herself up, pale, bright-eyed, ruby-lipped, and sophisticated. June rarely wore make up in her real time. A little lipstick was all she needed, but the fashion here in 1950 required considerably more. It was a challenge, part of the game of the RAVE, and June felt she was rising to it.

  It took Eddie a few minutes to call whomever he intended, but he was soon back, putting the rest of his tokens in his pocket. Standing beside her, he pressed his wide hand to the small of June's back, encouraging her off the stool and onto her feet.

  "Who did you call?"

  "You'll see."

  "Fine. Be mysterious."

  All he did was grin and secure his hat on his head.

  But June had been thinking while he was away. "About Arthur…You're sure he didn't kill her?"

  "Yeah. Everything he did, he did right-handed."

  June pictured their interview. "You're right. And the noose was left-handed."

  Eddie nodded and held the car door open for her. "We're back to Elizabeth being a suicide." He rounded the car and slid in behind the wheel. "She was ambidextrous. She could have tied her own knot."

  "Or," June mused aloud, "he could have forced her to tie it herself and during the scuffle, she could have scratched him."

  "A regular murder movie plot."

  June grinned. "Yes, but occasionally movies are based on possibilities."

  "Arthur is a crumb, yes, and a lazy jackass, but I don't think he's up to murder."

  "You sure showed your low opinion of him." It still gave June the shakes, thinking about the violence Eddie barely controlled.

  Eddie shrugged. "He deserved it."

  "Did he deserve to be hit? He wasn't nice about his mother, but violence-"

  "-is sometimes necessary to make a point. I wanted to see how he'd react, beyond the fact that I think he's a turd for speaking ill of the dead, his mother no less."

  June nodded, but she was gett
ing upset with Eddie's attitude. "I would have handled it differently."

  Eddie pierced her with a hard stare. "How?"

  "Maybe by coaxing the information out of him."

  He snorted. "That jerk would have had you for lunch."

  "I resent that remark!"

  "Go ahead, get mad at me now. You should have been mad at Arthur."

  "I was mad! I'm still not sure he didn't kill her, right-handed, or left-handed, or ambidextrous. You're familiar with violence. Are you absolutely positively sure he couldn't do it?"

  "June," he said, with forced patience in his voice, "he didn't even attempt to hit me back. Do you really think he has it in him to force his mother to tie a noose and hang herself?"

  Put that way… But that was beside the point. Eddie's violence was disturbing. "I still don't think you needed to hit him. You seem to like hitting, what with the spankings and all."

  June could see his knuckles go white on the steering wheel. "Spanking you is not the same."

  "Oh? How?"

  "For one thing, it does you no harm. Your butt can take a lot more than what I've dished out. And I would never strike you any other place or in anger. Irritation, yes, on your butt, but full-on anger, never. For another thing, it's traditional for a man to spank a woman when she's misbehaved."

  She felt pouty all of a sudden. Eddie was hard to argue with. But it was an old tradition and didn't fit in her twenty-second century paradigm. If Eddie was real, he was sure playing his part to the hilt. As annoying as that could be, she respected him for it. He was intelligent, forceful, capable and effective. These were all traits she appreciated in people and found so lacking in the men who had been interested in her in the past. All those pretty faces and empty heads, conniving to fill their equally empty pockets. Eddie would never do that. He could take care of himself.

  "All right. I don't want to argue anymore. Just try not to kill anyone, will you?"

  "I can't guarantee that, June."

  A Mike Hammer-style private investigator in 1950 would kill without compunction and pay the piper if it was necessary. He'd need a reason, though; he was honest with a sense of right and wrong. Just like the story characters, June didn't think Eddie would shoot first and ask questions later. "Try, will you?"

  "Of course."

  There was an extended pause as each tried to regroup. Eddie started the car and pulled out of the parking place.

  "Where are we going next, Eddie?"

  "Back to the office. We need to think about Hendrickson Grayson. He's another beneficiary of Elizabeth's insurance and fortune. I want to meet him."

  * * * * *

  Fran was there, standing at the file cabinet as Eddie and June walked in. She greeted Eddie genially and was a little chilly to June, though polite. June, however, was much less than polite.

  Fran smiled, her expression like beams of sunlight through the window. "Hey, Eddie!" She turned back to the files and away from June. "Miss Tarryton."

  "Frannie, honey, we're expecting a guest. When he gets here, tell him to come right in."

  "Who is it, boss?"

  "Does it matter?" June interrupted, her nose drawn up. "Just do what Eddie said."

  "Miss Tarryton-" Fran began, a scowl beginning to form on her face.

  "June, she'll do her job." Eddie hoped to head off the argument before it began. June didn't seem inclined to be pleasant.

  "She does nothing but give me sour looks," June said, peevishly. "Tell her to take the day off or something."

  Eddie looked from June to Fran, whose high color suggested she was getting plenty angry, then back at June. What had gotten into the redhead? "June, I haven't seen anything like that. You've got the wrong idea."

  June rounded on him, hands on hips. "I do, huh? I saw you playing kissy-kissy with your…hmm…secretary, yesterday. I know a tart when I see one."

  "Now just a minute!" Fran took two steps toward June, but Eddie held out a restraining hand.

  "June, I don't know what you think you saw, but my relationship with Fran is none of your business anyway."

  "It's not?" She snorted. Actually snorted. "I think you're a heel, Eddie. Leading on two women at once."

  "He is not leading me on, Miss Tarryton. Eddie and I are…pals, that's all."

  Eddie tipped his hat back on his head. This was getting too close to a catfight. "We're friends, June. Stop behaving like a jealous lover."

  Her frown was immediate, and directed at Eddie, full force. "What am I to you, Eddie?"

  "This is a pointless conversation. June, go into the office. Frannie, go get a cuppa coffee."

  "But Eddie, your guest!"

  Right. Captain Williams was coming by. "I'm sure he'll knock."

  Fran looked dubious, and glared at June, but gathered up her things and stalked out of the office. The outer door didn't slam exactly, but it was damned close.

  "June," he said again. "Into the office. We're going to have a discussion."

  "Hmph. Discuss it with yourself. I'm not talking to you, you louse." She crossed her arms over her chest and stood firm.

  Eddie didn't want to manhandle her, but her behavior was childish and bitchy. "Get into the office, or I'll spank you right here, and the devil take whomever walks in."

  "Spank?"

  He nodded. "You heard me right. Get into the office. Now."

  Although she did it stiffly, June walked toward the inner office. As she walked by, Eddie gave her a resounding smack on her skirt-covered bottom.

  "Ouch!" She gave him a dirty look over her shoulder, but didn't stop walking.

  Eddie closed his office door and locked it. It wouldn't do for Captain Williams to turn the knob and have the door open unexpectedly. June's spanking was going to be of the long and hard variety. It was crazy for her to be such a bitch. Sure, it was possible that his persona and Fran were supposed to have an affair, but sleeping with two women serially would not be contrary to any of the hard-boiled private detective novels he'd read. It was also quite true that he'd made no commitment to anyone.

  The truth was, however, once he'd been with June, he had no interest in other women except as eye candy. Fran certainly qualified for that title, but that was all. A sweeter demeanor from June would have carried her a lot farther and Eddie wasn't about to tolerate her attitude. That had to stop before his reassurances about her being his girl would commence.

  Eddie put his hat on the rack and removed his suit coat, pegging it next to his hat and trench coat. He gave June a stern look. "Skirt up and panties down."

  "I don't get this," she said. "Are you having an affair with her? Is she your girl? Were you two-timing her with me?"

  "June, you and I have made no commitments. Your jealousy is unbecoming. It certainly doesn't make you more endearing."

  She appeared to think about this. "I thought…It's just that you and I… I guess I was wrong."

  "We can talk about it, after I spank you." It took only a moment to roll up his sleeves, exposing his thick forearms.

  "I won't talk to Fran like that again, Eddie. I'm sorry."

  "I expect you to say you're sorry to Fran. You didn't hurt my feelings."

  "If I promise to say I'm sorry to Fran, can we skip the spanking?"

  "Do you think that's reasonable?"

  Her lower lip snuck between her teeth. How he wanted to kiss those lips. But now was not the time. "I embarrassed you, huh?"

  He nodded. "You were atrocious."

  June sighed, a look of resignation on her face. "I was, wasn't I? I'm sorry."

  "Skirt up, panties down."

  "It's the second spanking of the day, Eddie. Are you sure we-"

  "Do it, June, or we're quits. I won't take that kind of insolence and jealousy from anyone. I haven't done anything to earn your ire and neither has Fran."

  Her hands went to the hem of her skirt and she lifted it up slowly, too slowly. It was like a strip-tease and Eddie found it alluring as hell though he knew it was an intentional distractio
n. An impish grin tilted up the corners of June's mouth as she hiked up her skirt. She clearly knew very well what she was doing, exposing the tops of her stockings and the garters, the long length of her thighs and finally her panties and garter belt.

  Eddie would have groaned, but he held it back. He was getting hard and if she didn't hurry up, their encounter was going to be a spanking of a different sort.

  Would that be so bad?

  June put her fingers inside her panties, ostensibly to peel them down, but she cupped her mound with a hand and took in a sharp breath. Her cheeks were pink, her lips were bright red, and her panties were white frilly things with a little red bow at the top front.

  She smoothed the light fur on her mound slowly, her hand still inside her panties. If she began to truly masturbate in front of him, Eddie might burst through his zipper.

  "June, knock it off."

  An innocent expression, with a little moue of her mouth, but it didn't reach her twinkling eyes. "What? I'm doing what you asked."

  "Damn it, June. This isn't going to get you anywhere. I'm still going to spank you." She didn't need to know that he wanted to take her with every fiber of his being.

  She stopped rubbing and slowly lowered her panties, inch by inch. Lace lingered on her thighs before she pushed it down, down to her knees, and then she slid her hands sensuously up her legs, stopping with her hands over her privates, hiding them from view—almost but not quite. June arched a little and thrust her breasts out. They were hidden demurely behind a cream suit jacket and white blouse, but they were awfully pretty breasts. He could imagine her in this position, stark naked. It wasn't hard to remember exactly how those small breasts felt in his hands—pale, perky globes with wide areolas and hard, dark pink nipples.

  Eddie was almost drooling, but he mentally shook himself and drew in a deep breath. With his dick so hard, it was going to be uncomfortable to sit, but at least his pants were loose-fitting. There was a little extra room. He pulled out the armless guest chair and took a seat, patting his thighs.

  "Over my lap."

  June's voice was low and breathy as she said, "Eddie, we can do so many better things with my panties off, don't you think?"

  It was hard to think, but Eddie did his best. "I agree, but let's start with a spanking and see where it goes."