by Kieran York
Royce hoped it wasn’t Amy calling her in for the night. She wanted to put the case on hold until she signed back in the next day. She wanted to close her mind to any new tangle. She also wished she could stop thinking of Valeria.
The back door fanned open. Gran yelled, “Telephone. Sounds like that teacher friend of yours.”
Royce bolted for the door. As she passed her grandmother, she gasped for air. “Thanks, Gran.”
“Movin’ like a snake on a hot griddle.”
Royce’s grin confirmed that the call was special. She then lifted the receiver to her ear. She felt her heart being wound back up.
***
Valeria’s manicured, tapered fingers reached for Royce’s collar tips, and she dragged Royce into her embrace. Royce’s mouth went dry when she stepped back and saw Valeria’s shapely body beneath a black chiffon peignoir. The puffed sleeves were trimmed with embroidered ribbon. A matching gown underneath cracked with friction. Valeria’s light hair fell softly over her shoulders. Her eyes blazed, and her smile issued a direct hit. She began undressing Royce as they made their way to the bedroom.
By the time they had reached the chrome-trimmed cherrywood bed, Royce’s clothing had been removed. She viewed the invitation of the king-sized waterbed. Mounds of boysenberry-colored pillows created a nest. The comforter, satin sheets, and fabric shags of the canopy bed all matched. The top sheet had been folded into an open V Ripples of iridescent candlelight flickered. With this, she was being transported back into Valeria’s arms; and back into her life. This was the place Royce longed to be.
Royce could hear the mellow music playing over the growl of night wind. Pine branches scratched the windowpane. Royce glanced out and into the empyrean sable sky. She loved this night and all that it promised.
Gently untying the peignoir ribbons, Royce felt the press of Valeria’s bosom. The chiffon slid past Valeria’s shoulders. As the peignoir fell, Royce went down to her knees. She tucked her head against Valeria’s cottony softness. Royce then lifted the gown upward. As she stood, she felt the silkiness of Valeria’s beautiful body.
They closed together. Valeria’s downy mouth drifted across Royce’s. Royce felt her passion detonating when Valeria’s lips parted, responsively, and her deep kiss abducted Royce’s butterscotch candy. Valeria laughed. It was a rich, raspy chuckle that chained with Royce’s. Then she crushed her body tightly against Royce, and they eased onto the huge stage of a bed.
Sinking into the cushiony pillows, Royce smiled at the hanging overhead mirror. Its reflection was her lover’s flawless form. Valeria’s tanned, lithe frame moved against Royce’s pale thinness.
Valeria’s eyes shone amber in the faint glow of candlelight. Royce was beguiled each time she neared this woman. She inhaled the honeyed, ambrosial aroma that lifted from their love. Valeria’s warm body tangled against Royce and against her arousal. With delicate ticks of Valeria’s tongue, Royce quivered. She moaned when Valeria tenderly nibbled at her thighs, teasing. Soon there was a surrender, and Royce felt its explosive passion.
Throughout the shank of an ethereal night, their sumptuous feast continued. Every act of loving Royce had ever wished to partake was satisfied. The night brought folding, wedging, and rocking. Each act was without inhibition. Their glistening torsos came together as gently as petals and with the force of a tempest. In the dimness of night, and with the luster of their touch, those bodies curled together. The flesh and satin wrap always satiated Royce.
Just before their twining limbs finalized their love with sleep, the first words of the evening were spoken. Valeria whispered, “Baby, would you blow out the candle?”
***
“Here a pagan, there a pagan, everywhere there are pagans. Pagans, culprits, and villains are around every bend,” Valeria chanted. “And my baby is the deputy in charge of putting out crime.” She wanted to amuse Royce. She wanted to make the morning mellow.
Royce grinned at her lover’s attempt. She could never explain the good times to Gwen. Gwen only knew that Royce placed Valeria on a pedestal of adoration and that Royce was often treated shabbily for her effort. But Royce basked in amazement each morning after sharing a night of love with Valeria.
No one would believe that the self-indulgent teacher with flirtatious eyes would serve Royce breakfast in bed. They wouldn’t believe that Valeria fixed Royce mushroom omelets, warm croissants, and fresh berries. That she would feed the lounging Royce, between kisses. No one would believe that she chilled Royce’s champagne glass repeatedly. That the egotistical, savoir-faire Valeria would massage Royce’s back with almond oil and tenderness, planting kisses as she did so.
No one would understand that in their frolic, Royce was transported to a land of whimsy and romance.
Royce accepted the moments spent awaiting these cherished times. “Val,” she murmured, “I love you.”
Valeria slipped an omelet-stacked fork between Royce’s lips. Royce tasted the cheese and herb flavors. By the time she swallowed, Valeria pressed the crystal fluted champagne goblet against Royce’s lips. “Come on, baby. One glass isn’t going to impair your reflexes. Besides, we have the rest of the morning for coffee and caresses.”
“Mmm,” Royce lulled with a grin. She took the glass from Valeria’s fingers and placed it on the end table. “Can’t. I’m on duty in a few hours.”
“Yancy downs booze with his badge on,” she confronted.
“I don’t.” Royce glanced out the window and saw the snowflakes sheeting down. “Wonderful breakfast, hon.”
“You’ve got the most extraordinary appetite.”
“You remedy my hunger.”
Valeria’s fingers whisked Royce’s straggling short hair. “You’ve had an excellent workout, baby.” With a frisky smile, she admitted, “I’ve also had some exercise. I won’t need to go near my rowing machine today.”
“Guess I should conserve some strength for the storm.”
“Getting anywhere with the case?” Valeria tipped the final swallow of champagne and poured herself another.
“Hon,” Royce cautioned, “you’d better take it slow on the drink.”
“If you won’t help me finish the bottle, I’ll just drink it myself. It is an excellent bottle. My best.” She tickled Royce’s face with her nail tips. “You haven’t answered my question.”
“Not avoidance. Nothing new in the case. Yet.”
“Meaning that you’ve figured something out?”
“I’m working on it. I’ll find the killer.”
“Good attitude. Queen Victoria gave me my motto to live by. She said, 'We are not interested in the possibility of defeat.’ I love that line.” Valeria drained the glass and poured more champagne. “Trish didn’t deserve to die. She was compulsive, unpredictable, and maddening. She could be a true bitch. Seldom kept her appointments on time, if at all. She was irritating. But maybe even that was part of her charm.”
“She was your best friend and I’m your lover, and we’re so different.”
“Royce, baby, you’re like a pastoral country ballad. She was ragtime, jazz, and the blues. God, I miss her already.”
“You have your memories. Gran says our bodies are lamps and the light produced is our souls.”
“For god’s sake, don’t go off on one of your Gran’s cutesy-saying jags. Does Granny know who killed Trish, and how to prove it?”
“She probably suspects Luther.”
“You cannot believe the acrimony between Luther and the Chandlers. Naturally, they suspect Luther, too. They tried to suppress their hatred. Between the grief and their shock, the Chandler clan kept it calm, but it was unpleasant. Luther had a motive. And the general consensus is that he did the deed.”
“Any mystery men in her life?”
“I’m not aware of any recently.”
“You said she told you that she would soon be free of Luther. What if she was setting Luther up? What if the one she met wasn’t Luther but someone she was hiring to dispose of him? What i
f the hit person she was going to hire to knock off Luther turned on her? Was outbid by Luther. Luther was with Yancy.”
“Not Trish’s style,” Valeria flared. “No.”
“Maybe she was desperate to rid herself of Luther.”
“And maybe you did it.”
“Me?” Royce incredulously questioned. “Why would I murder her?”
Valeria lifted her glass and let the champagne flow down her throat. “She was your competition. You probably suspected.”
Royce’s staggering breath took a moment to return to normal. She felt a shudder but tried to remain calm. “I’ve never even shot a criminal, much less killed anyone.”
“But you must have known that Trish and I were lovers.”
“It isn’t important.” Royce’s mind was racing. There was no commitment between them, but she had never really believed that there might be an affair between the women.
“Typical!” Valeria’s eyes stormed. “Damnit, you must be feeling something. I saw it on your face. Royce, you just don’t communicate. You never wanted an accounting, but you had to have known.” Valeria chained sips until she again emptied the glass. She reached for the nearly depleted bottle.
“Why don’t you just drink it straight from the bottle?”
Valeria filled her glass to the rim. Her eyes steamed. “Fuck you. Well, don’t you want to know about my affair with Trish?”
“Not really.”
“I see the hurt in your eyes. Goddamn it, I’m going to explain.”
“I suggest we wait until you’re thinking clearly.”
“Until I’m less drunk?” Valeria’s glare was constant. “No. I’m telling you and you’re listening. Trish was my first. We came out together in college. I was the daughter of a factory worker and she was a flashy rich bitch. She was from wealth. I was from poverty. I had nothing. Made me extremely easy to buy for.”
“And to buy?” Royce lashed.
“Royce, grow up. I shared my room with two sisters. I got their smudged hand-me-downs. I only made it to college on a beauty contest scholarship. Trish brought me out and bought me gifts. I’m in this luxury condo. I drive a silver BMW. See all of this extravagance?” she emphasized with a broad swing of her arms. “I go on trips. I party. Royce, I carried dreams with me as I grew up. These are those dreams. I went to parties, and Trish gave out party favors. You couldn’t have been naive enough to believe that I pay for all this on an elementary school teacher’s salary?”
“I know you carry platinum plastic and have expensive tastes.”
“Damn right. And Trish picked up most of the bills for my expensive tastes.”
“Luther provided a perfect cover.”
“It was just that. A cover.”
“We don’t have that cover. That’s why we can’t be seen in public together.”
“It wouldn’t look the same.”
“I don’t suppose it would.” Royce brooded. She was aware of what was behind Valeria’s criticism. Valeria had encouraged Royce to fill out, become more shapely. She encouraged Royce to allow her hair to grow and to use cosmetics. Royce had countered that she had the wrong metabolism for putting on weight and that short hair was a precaution. A criminal couldn’t grab her hair. The same principle as wearing pull-away neckties. A tie can become a noose. She had explained to Valeria that cosmetics bothered her skin and eyes. “Val, I know all the reasons you don’t want to appear in public with me.”
“I just want to be cautious. For both of us. And it isn’t that I won’t appear in public with you. We’ve just got to be careful.” Valeria searched Royce’s expression and then made a concession. “We’ll have dinner out together soon.”
“How about Sunday? Gwen and Nadine mentioned Sunday dinner.”
“You don’t really want to gather under the arc of Sappho with your lesbian friends? Come on. I’ll take you out. There’s that little place in Evergreen, and the ambiance is wonderful. My treat.”
“You’d better restrain your wild spending. Your rich lover was buried yesterday.”
“She left me a little something. Don’t look at me that way. Damnit, I deserve some consideration. I kept her from going over the edge when I moved here,” Valeria justified. “It wasn’t easy. Cocaine.”
“Jesus!” Royce mumbled.
“I wasn’t on it. And for the last year, she wasn’t either.”
“Ragtime, jazz, and the blues isn’t even cool in her grave, and you’re moaning about her habit. You’re spending your inheritance on fancy dinners with your other lover.”
“What the hell do you want? Would you like me to crawl in the casket with her? She’s gone. Her ticket is canceled!” Valeria’s eyes drooped shut. When she opened them, she surveyed Royce. “Baby, she would have wanted me to continue the party. That was Trish. First to the party and the last to leave. Maybe her hedonistic ways rubbed off on me. But be honest. Royce, you like my experience. My kinky all-the-way, any-way loving. That excites you and you know it. You knew from the beginning that I’m not the type for some Boston marriage. I was honest with you. I was honest with Trish. And she left me that money to use the way she used it. Party.”
“The fact that you’re a beneficiary makes you a suspect.”
“Not on the grand scale of Luther.” There was a dark moment of silence. “Now, will you stop pouting and cuddle with me?”
“Stop patronizing me. I’m not in your classroom.”
“I can promise to teach you more passion, if you’ll stop with the whining around.”
Royce felt demolished. She stood and walked to the highboy where her clothes had been neatly folded and stacked by Valeria. As she slipped into her denims, Royce wondered if Valeria had also neatly folded Trish’s clothing. She wondered if Valeria had coddled Trish by feeding her fresh, plump strawberries.
“Val, I’d better leave now. No telling how the roads are. There might be accidents. I should get in to work early.” Royce buttoned her shirt.
“Royce, come back to bed, please,” Valeria pleaded. She wrapped a robe around her nude body and followed Royce to the door. “We have lots of time. It isn’t even noon. No one will even be out on a Sunday morning. I want you.”
Before exiting, Royce kissed Valeria’s forehead.
She was halfway to the Blazer when she felt Valeria’s hand pulling her around. Shivering, clad only in her robe, Valeria smiled. Her teeth chattered. “Royce, please don’t leave me. Come back and warm me. We can linger in the hot tub. Please don’t leave me now. I can’t take it.” Her body clamped to Royce’s, and she murmured her soft invitation into the deputy’s ear. “Come with me. I haven’t got anything under this robe.”
Royce’s arms wreathed Valeria’s trembling frame. “I noticed.”
Chapter 6
The storm had been badly underestimated by the weather center. Timber City was surrounded by white, saw-toothed mountains. Icicles were forming on eaves. Birds were housed in the snowy caverns of evergreens. Royce heard their rustling as she walked toward the courthouse. Frosted window panes, curling chimney smoke, and the scraping of metal snow shovels were signs of a bitter storm. Digging out was beginning. People on Main Street puffed the steamy breath of dragons as they walked through heaping mounds of snow.
Royce entered the smoky pool hall and immediately spotted Dave Osborn leaning over the cue ball. “Mr. Osborn, I hate to bother you, but I have a few questions.”
His jittery eyes skidded to her badge. “Told you everything.”
“I realize you’ve been cooperative. I was hoping that time might have jogged your memory. For instance, anything else about the animal?”
“Naw. Like I says, it was just a deer or elk.”
“Do you think the animal might have been there when the killing took place?”
“I ’spose it was. When I seen her, I reach down 'cause I think she’s knocked out. She’s warm. But then I seen she’s dead.”
“Were there any sounds? Vehicle sounds?”
“Nope
. Sheriff says that clinches it 'cause the Indian was on foot.” The drifter shifted, leaning back. “I just can’t say more.”
“Sometimes hypnosis helps bring back memories. If I set up a session in Denver, would you be willing to be hypnotized?”
“Don’t see it comin’ to nothin'. But I’d do it.”
“Thanks. I’ll get it set up and then take you down to Denver. I appreciate your willingness to assist us.”
Royce tipped her hat and then made her way to the door. She paused and looked back over her shoulder. She felt discouragement each time she left an interrogation empty-handed. As she crossed the street, she considered that hypnosis was a long shot, but she was dealing with a myriad of scant clues. There was nothing to lose.
Royce kicked snow from her boots when she entered the courthouse. Snow crystals melted into droplets by the time she reached the Sheriff’s Department. She scanned the row of three desks. As she had guessed, there were stacks of reports on each desk.
Yancy was flipping through a caulk-bay file. “Afternoon,” he grumbled.
“Bet you’re glad to be going off duty.”
“Yep. Nicky came in to pick up his heavy coat earlier.” Yancy chuckled. “Even he ain’t that hot-blooded. He’s down at the jail pickin’ up a gun some fella turned in. Found it. Probably a crime in Denver and they come up skiing and pitch the sonofabitch. If you’re lucky, he’ll get out of your hair as soon as he sees you’re on duty.” Yancy wailed with a laugh that settled into a cough.
Royce chuckled. “He knows how to push the wrong lever. By the way, if you stop by the Bell Ringer, would you ask Faye to call me when Laramie gets ready to leave tonight? I’ll haul him in.”