by CJ Birch
“So why’s this place called the Maverty house anyway?” Robin asked.
“I guess that depends on who you believe. Some say it was named after Joseph Maverty. He was a bootlegger who supposedly worked for Charles Birger during Prohibition. He used to receive shipments from Canada and store them before they could be delivered to Birger.” She looked around the cellar with newfound interest. “And seeing this place, I can imagine it would’ve been easy to store and hide alcohol.”
“But you don’t believe the story?”
“Oh, I believe he was a bootlegger, but I think someone added the Birger part to up his status a little. I don’t think he had anything to do with them. Turlough isn’t a very easy place to get to. It would be more direct to go from Canada to Harrisburg than come here first. But Turlough would’ve been a perfect place to distribute to the surrounding counties like Hardin. Plus, we border Kentucky and Indiana, so it’s more likely that he worked for someone set up in those states.”
“And what’s the other theory?”
“That it was already known as the Maverty house before that. A woman named Charlotte Maverty lived here in the 1800s when it was first built. Both her parents had died from typhoid fever, leaving Charlotte a very wealthy woman. According to legend, there were two young gentlemen who were trying to convince her to marry them. Instead of leaving it up to her to decide who she preferred, they had a duel to solve the dilemma the manly way.” Elle’s tone and expression made it clear what she thought of the manly way of doing things. “On the morning of the duel, Charlotte showed up to talk them out of it. One of them tripped and shot Charlotte in the shoulder. She died three days later.”
“And what happened to Joseph Maverty?”
“He was shot by the local sheriff in nineteen twenty-eight. No one’s lived in it since.”
“Which story do you believe?”
Elle shrugged. She’d never seriously thought about it. One thing was for sure, it had an unfortunate history. “I think both stories are sort of true. People probably started calling it the Maverty house after Joseph died and it became abandoned.”
For as long as Elle had been coming to the Maverty house, she’d never known about this room, but someone did. She wondered if Jessie had known about it. Would he have told her? She used to think he told her everything, but she’d learned the hard way there were things he’d kept even from her.
“So you used to come here a lot? Way back when?” Robin asked. She let her voice dip to a twang on the last line.
“We pretty much lived here. It was a clubhouse of sorts. If you hung out here, it meant you belonged.” Elle rolled her sleeves up, but it was no use, the heat of the day had pervaded the basement.
“And that’s important to you, isn’t it? Belonging.”
Elle shrugged. “It’s a small town. There isn’t much choice.” Back then, belonging was everything. “You grew up in Chicago?”
“Evanston. But it’s big enough and close enough to the city that no one gave a shit what you were.” Robin inched closer, leaning her shoulder against the wall and facing Elle. “It’s a shame, someone like you wasting away here in this godforsaken town.”
“Someone like me?”
Robin smirked. “You’ve got that perfect mix of femme butch going.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Robin leaned in even closer. “Listen. I could pretend I don’t get that vibe off you—”
“What vibe?”
“Okay. We’ll play it that way.” She shrugged one of her exquisite shoulders. “We’ll pretend your eyes haven’t been glued to my cleavage for the past twenty minutes, or that—”
“My eyes have been exactly where they should be, which is nowhere near your cleavage.”
Robin raised her arms in surrender and retreated to the stairs. She sat and leaned back on her elbows. The move pushed her breasts forward as if mocking Elle not to stare at them.
They eyed each other from across the room until Elle asked, “Did you always know?”
“What? That I was a prying bitch? Yes, from the very beginning.” She offered a kind smile. “Will you bite my head off if I ask when you knew?”
Elle let out a very loud sigh and leaned her head against the brick. “Tenth grade. Kate Wells’s pool party.”
“Bikini or one-piece?”
“Blue bikini.”
“Good color.”
“Mmm.”
The silence lengthened. Birdcall filtered through the hole in the floor, along with beams of light.
“And have you?” Robin asked.
“College.”
“Please tell me you’re talking about the first time, not the last.”
“Oh, God, do you think I’d be sheriff if anyone knew?”
“Are you telling me you haven’t had sex in ten years?”
“It hasn’t been that long.”
Robin shot her a give me a break look. “Ten years? You must go through vibrators the way Elizabeth Taylor went through husbands.”
Despite herself, Elle laughed. “It’s honestly not on my radar. I have too many more important obligations in my life.”
“That’s a shitty way to live. My dad’s like that and he’s miserable. He lives in a city he hates, commuting to a job he hates, and it’s eaten away at him.”
“I don’t hate my life. It’s not what I envisioned for myself when I was younger. But there are worse ways to live.”
“Cut the shit. If you had a choice to live this life celibate or with someone, you’d choose to be celibate? If you answer yes, you’re lying.”
Of course Elle wouldn’t live in celibacy if she had a choice. But she’d never thought much about it because it wasn’t an option. Not in Turlough. As much as the world had changed in the last forty years, Turlough was perpetually two decades behind. Since Robin had arrived, she’d awakened something long dormant in Elle.
“You could leave, you know. Your brother graduates this year, right?”
“Why would I leave? I love my job.”
“But if you didn’t have it anymore.”
Elle shook her head. It was a crazy idea. She’d never thought about leaving Turlough.
Robin stood and approached Elle. “Ten years? I’d have gone insane.” She leaned her shoulder against the wall. When she spoke, her breath brushed the hair circling Elle’s ear. It felt wonderful and dangerous at the same time.
Robin’s thigh rested against Elle’s and she could feel the heat seep through the cotton of her uniform. Robin reached over and slowly lifted the chain Elle kept around her neck. The keys caressed her skin as they glided up from between her breasts.
“The keys to your chastity belt?”
Elle laughed. “No. To the safe at the station.”
Robin leaned in closer, pressing her breasts against Elle’s arm. Her breath skimmed Elle’s neck.
Elle swallowed.
Robin pressed forward, connecting their bodies at the hips, her lips inches away from Elle’s. From this vantage point, she could see Elle’s breasts rise and fall. She could see the edge of her bra peeking from her uniform. It was white and edged in lace.
Elle dropped her head. Robin was so close their chests were pressed together. She was breathing hard. Her mind went in a million different directions, but mostly it fastened on the image of Robin’s garter straps trapped beneath her skirt.
Robin grabbed Elle’s hip and leaned in farther. “You are by far the sexiest sheriff I’ve ever met.” She smelled like apples and vanilla and her blue eyes were so clear as they watched for Elle’s reaction.
Elle’s cheeks flamed red, spreading down her neck.
“And it’s adorable that I can make you blush like a schoolgirl.” When she grazed her lips against Elle’s, they were soft. Robin’s tongue darted in and licked the tip of Elle’s. Elle’s whole body lit on fire at that moment.
It took everything to pull away. “I’m in uniform.”
Robin gripped her hip harder an
d yanked her closer. She kissed Elle again, deeper this time. And it was like a dam bursting. All those years of pent-up frustration exploded from Elle. Every emotion, every look, touch, thought, roared through her body, flooding her senses.
She slid her hand around Robin’s waist, slipping her fingers down her skirt, pulling her, if possible, closer still.
Their embrace held, tight and furious, for minutes, hours, Elle wasn’t sure. She skimmed her hand down Robin’s leg, inching up her skirt, feeling for the loose strap of her garter. When Robin undid first one, then another of Elle’s buttons, Elle gulped. It was too much. She pulled back. Her pulse was banging against her ears. She backed up, everything inside her head sounded so incriminating and loud. Including her breath.
“Elle?” Neil’s voice came from up above.
“Thank God,” she whispered to herself. “Down here,” she shouted so Neil would hear. After buttoning her uniform and retrieving her tie from where she’d dropped it, Elle moved into the light so Neil could see her.
“Great, saved by the fat man,” Robin said.
“Be careful where you step, Neil. The floorboards have rotted through.”
Neil stopped a few feet from the opening and bent forward. “Holy fuck, Elle. You had me scared half to death there. When you didn’t answer your radio or phone I thought something bad had happened to you.” He noticed Robin then and his whole body stiffened. “You okay?”
“Yeah, nothing a few aspirin and a gallon of water can’t solve. If you go around the back of the house, I think you’ll be able to find the cellar doors. You might have to move some stuff. I think they’ve been hidden.”
Sure enough, Neil found two fallen trees covering the doors as well as a layer of dead leaves. It only took him a couple of minutes to remove the debris and tug open the doors. When he finished, he was sweating just as much as Elle and Robin.
Elle emerged from the basement drenched and exhausted. She stood in the shade under one of the giant sycamores in the backyard enjoying what little breeze swept through the trees. Neil handed her a bottle of water. She drank half and used the other to douse the back of her neck with water. She caught Robin watching and her heartbeat picked up. There was something carnal in the way Robin eyed her. Elle looked away, wishing she hadn’t started something she couldn’t finish.
* * *
Dan sat slumped in his chair. One arm dangled over the armrest in a lazy gesture. He was determined to remain insouciant, in an almost exact replica of EJ’s posture in the same chair earlier. Only this time, Elle sat at her desk across from Dan instead of leaning in the back corner where Neil now stood.
“What happened the night of June eighteenth?”
Dan shrugged. He leaned back in his chair to stare at the ceiling. “If I could remember what happened on random dates I might have passed history with a better grade.” He let this sentence escape his lips with one long, bored breath.
“I’ll give you a hint, this date involves you and my brother sleeping it off on the cot in the basement cell.”
He leaned forward to stare at Elle. A smile turned up his lips. “Well, that’s a horse of a different color, then, isn’t it?”
“Dan, cut the shit. What were you up to before you arrived at the party?” Unlike her interview with EJ, when she’d been relegated to the position of observer, unsuccessfully at times, she kept her voice low and calm. EJ had spent the entire interview evading. She could only assume that if EJ wasn’t telling them where they were that night it had to be something incriminating. But what could be worse than murder? Unless he was protecting Dan, which just infuriated her more. She had called the state police to check into Dan’s background. They hadn’t told her much except that Dan had a sealed record. He’d spent three years in juvie because of what was in that file.
After the tenth time she’d interrupted Neil, he’d asked EJ to take a seat outside across from Heather in dispatch.
“I know, Neil, and I’m sorry. But I can’t help it. He’s my brother and he’s protecting that ass out of stupid loyalty,” she said.
“You know the old saying you can’t pick your family, but you can pick your friends? Well, Dan is the furthest thing from you. Maybe EJ needs a little less structure in his life.” If she were being objective here, Neil was right, but she knew there was more to it than that.
“The thing is, I think this is about a stolen keg. Only I don’t think they stole it from Finnegan’s. When I dropped it off to Toby, he seemed sure he wasn’t missing a keg.” She shrugged. “But no one reported a theft, so there wasn’t any reason to pursue it further. I have this sinking feeling that when I check into it, I’ll find where it really came from.”
Neil sat back and watched her figure it out, knowing it was better if he just left her to it.
“He’s protecting him. I know it. But what’s worse than murder? Maybe it isn’t worse than murder, just the simple fact that EJ is innocent and knows it. Maybe he thinks he can’t get convicted so he’ll just keep his mouth shut.”
She looked over at Neil, who snorted.
Elle nodded. “I know. The only evidence we have puts EJ at the second crime scene. I have Case checking to see if the knife we found under Stan’s cruiser is the same one used on Jessie.”
“And if it is? What then? Jessie and Stan were shot to death.”
Elle groaned and scrubbed at her face. “I know. None of it makes sense. I only have more questions since we started.” She hadn’t told anyone that the T-shirt she found was EJ’s. She doubted very much the blood was Stan’s. It was old blood, and besides, why would they place it somewhere she was sure to find it? Unless that was the point. And what about the Harley-Davidson T-shirt? How did that fit?
“If EJ’s unwilling to give up his alibi, it looks worse for him. I’ll get a DNA sample to see if it matches the cigarette butts we found at the Maverty house.” The cigarettes they’d found were Marlboro Lights, which she knew were EJ’s brand. But if she remembered right, they were also the brand Jessie had been smoking the night she went to see him. There was still so much she couldn’t explain.
“So where were you before you got to the party that night?” Elle laced her fingers and rested her hands in front of her, waiting for Dan to answer.
“EJ and I went to pick up my keg pump before we showed up to the party.”
“Really? That took three hours? And at what point did you steal the keg?”
“I don’t know anything about where the keg came from.”
“Everyone we’ve managed to talk to from the party said you and EJ split from the group around nine and didn’t show up again until midnight with a keg.”
“So what are you really asking?” Dan’s gaze sank to her collar and the tight knot of her tie pressing against her throat. It lowered to where her breasts pressed against her uniform and stayed. She resisted the urge to check that a button hadn’t come undone, exposing her bra. She also resisted the need to cross her arms over her chest. “Are you asking that I give your brother an alibi for that missing time?”
“Who suggested that time was missing? I know exactly what you two were doing between nine and twelve.”
Dan smirked. “Really?”
“I’m sure if I looked hard enough I’d find an unlicensed convenience store along the outskirts of town missing a keg.” In the distance, she could hear Heather answering the phone.
“If that were true, then why didn’t he just confess to that? Me, personally? I’d rather be brought up on charges of theft than murder.” He flicked an invisible piece of lint off his jeans. “Then again, maybe he doesn’t know anything about a missing keg.”
There was a knock, Heather stuck her head in. “Sorry to bother you, but the mayor’s on the line.”
Elle sighed visibly. This was the last thing she wanted to deal with right now. He was either calling to bug her about some last-minute festival detail or goad her into getting the staties to rush their evidence. Neil peeled himself off the wall behind her. He’d bee
n so silent Elle had forgotten he was there.
“It’s okay, Heather, I’ll deal with him. Boss is busy.” Elle smiled a thank-you at him.
She waited until Neil had closed the door behind him before saying, “Are you confessing to stealing the keg by yourself, Dan?”
He shook his head. “I told you we didn’t steal any keg. We went to my house to grab my keg pump.”
“And that took three whole hours?”
“Yep.” He picked at his jeans some more. “Why? Where did your brother say we were?”
He hadn’t said anything. He’d refused to even speak on the matter, never once asking for a lawyer or giving her a confession. But she didn’t want to tell Dan that.
“Weird, huh? That he wouldn’t just tell you that. When that’s all we were doing?” He sat there, picking at a ripped thread, a small smirk at the corner of his mouth.
“I talked to your parents, Dan. They said you left the house around six that night and they didn’t see you again until the next morning. So where’d you go?”
He shrugged. “They must not have heard us come in.”
Elle stood and rounded her desk. “Listen to me, you little shit.” She leaned in close, her voice very calm and very quiet, both hands gripping the armrests. “I’ve had enough of you. You can try to play this situation like you give a shit about my brother, but I see right through you. I can see exactly what you’re trying to do.”
He leaned forward, taking back his personal space, invading hers. “And what is it I’m trying to do?” His eyes wove down her shirt, stopping again at that midpoint where her breasts pushed against the fabric, straining the line of buttons keeping her shirt closed.
She couldn’t help it, she looked.
He smiled like he’d won a prize.
Chapter Twenty-three