Such Wicked Friends

by Rod Hoisington

“I know. I’m going to see if they caught it on the store video. They should cooperate with me. If the crazy woman sues, the store will also be named.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got a handle on it.”

  “There’s more to the story. The next morning Prissy goes out and finds her car has been keyed. Deep scratches back and forth on one side. She figures the woman followed her. Prissy is the one who could sue for assault. However, I’m advising her to do nothing. Drop the whole thing right there.”

  “You’re probably right. The woman isn’t normal and is unlikely to respond to logic. Drop it and hope next time the woman picks a fight with someone just as crazy as she is. Will Priscilla listen to you?”

  “She’ll listen. She wants to buy a new car anyway.” He sat down at his desk and picked up a file folder. “I could tell you don’t think much of her.”

  “Oh Martin, I’m sorry if I gave off that sort of vibe. I get weird sometimes.”

  “We’re not dating, you know. We just dance together sometimes. Basically she’s just a nice woman who dances well.”

  She gave him her best smile of approval. “Hey, any kiddo of yours is a kiddo of mine.” Sandy had watched the woman closely at lunch. Priscilla was out of his league, but she was eager to play ball.

  Chapter Nine

  Later that evening, Martin took Priscilla dancing at the Beachland Club. They left early while the others, including Brad and Jenna, were still dancing. After stopping at the curb in front of her apartment building, he said, “I’ll walk you to the elevator.” And started to open the car door.

  “Let’s sit here a minute. Are you tired tonight, Martin? Usually I can’t get you away from the dance floor this early. We were doing fine until Brad and Jenna showed up. You left because of them, didn’t you?”

  “I left before I was obliged to dance with Jenna. She makes me uncomfortable. When she has too much to drink, she dances too close. As though she’s snuggling in for the night.”

  “I love it when you dance close to me. You don’t usually hold me close. Usually you have your hand high on my back. Sometimes, with the right music, you place it at my waist. When you do that, it’s as if you’re holding me special. I love that. You want to come in for a minute since it’s early?”

  He’d never seen her apartment. Never actually thought how she lived off the dance floor. Seeing where she lived might be interesting. Nevertheless, he said, “I should get home. You probably have to work tomorrow.”

  “It’s early. Plus I go in late tomorrow. Come on in and have coffee.”

  “Too late for coffee.”

  “Okay, then decaf and some strawberry cheesecake. You deserve something sweet.”

  He didn’t protest. It all sounded rather charming.

  “The place is a mess,” she said automatically, as they entered her apartment. “I wasn’t expecting a guest. It’s a small one-bedroom, as you can see. Rentals are expensive in Park Beach. Wander around if you like.”

  He glanced around and decided the apartment was acceptable, not a book or magazine out of place. A small glass-topped dinette separated the living room area from the sparse kitchen. “What was the combo playing tonight—several Beatle’s tunes? You have any of their CDs?” he asked.

  She was in the kitchen. “I have a couple Stones albums.”

  “Stones? Isn’t that hard rock?”

  “I didn’t mean Stones. What am I thinking? I have Rod Stewart’s ballads. That okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “Is instant decaf all right? Oh, gosh, I thought I had more cheesecake left.”

  “You take it.”

  “I’ll cut it in half. We’ll each get a sliver. In the car you mentioned about Jenna being too bold when you dance.” She started the CD and brought the coffee mugs and cheesecake to the table. “I guess I was mistaken. I didn’t think you minded much. I’ll admit you acted surprised when she put her hand on your butt right in front of Brad and everyone.”

  “I didn’t enjoy any of it.” That wasn’t true. He did enjoy some of it, though he couldn’t endure it. One night in particular, he remembered, Jenna had danced very close and rubbed up against him. Later at the table, she sat beside him and moved her leg touching his. She leaned over and whispered, “Sometime I’ll show you how it’s actually done.” He had to leave. At home in bed, the music was still playing in his head. He couldn’t stop thinking of her pressing her body against him.

  “You’re not eating your cheesecake.”

  “Just thinking.” He started eating and sipped the coffee.

  “Yes, she’s very pretty,” she said, guessing his thoughts.

  “One guy in particular seems to go the Beachland Club just to seek her out,” he said.

  “Oh, I know who you mean. A tall red-haired man. He just goes up to their table and holds out his hand to her. Doesn’t say anything or even look at Brad. She never refuses, and I’ve never seen him dance with anyone else.”

  “I should tell Brad how obvious she is—maybe he doesn’t care. Another night she was doing her body moves with someone she didn’t know, and it took the man by surprise. He appeared very uncomfortable. Some of the crowd cheered her on as though she was going to break into a striptease. I couldn’t stand it. I gave Brad a questioning look and he said, ‘Yeah, that’s about as far as you can go with your clothes on. Maybe he’s warming her up for me.’”

  “Disgusting.” Priscilla frowned. “Some night, a stranger’s going to figure a way to get rid of him and take off with her.”

  “You know, I grew up with both of them. She was always a little flirty.”

  “Brad told me she was very sexy in high school.”

  “That’s true. When did he tell you that?”

  “Oh, that was before I met you.”

  “I don’t know why those two changed. Maybe they’re not in love anymore. Maybe she’s already cheating on him.”

  “Why would it have to be her? Maybe it’s him. Though he’s always been okay with me. Some men don’t even notice me.”

  “I can’t believe that,” he said, letting her have the compliment. He finished his coffee and set the paper napkin aside. “I used to be quite fond of them both. Now I don’t know.” He thought again of Jenna pressing against him.

  “I don’t believe sex is all that important in a relationship, do you, Martin?”

  “It’s not everything.”

  “Are you going to their party? It’s Saturday night isn’t it?”

  “I’ve already said yes.”

  “I’ll have to find a ride somewhere,” she hinted. “Let’s move over to the couch and listen to the music.”

  “You know it’s still early, Priscilla. Perhaps we could go...do something else?”

  She studied his face for only a moment then a glow came to her face. “Oh, Martin, how sweet. I wasn’t certain if you were attracted to me in that way.” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Fantastic. Yes, yes. Let me go in the bedroom and get ready.” She leaned over and gave him a polite kiss. Their first. “If you need the bathroom, it’s right there in the hall. I imagine you can find the bedroom alright.” She made a nervous laugh. “One thing, if you don’t mind, I prefer to have the lights out.” With that, she disappeared into the bedroom.

  He sat motionless. He closed his eyes tightly and slowly shook his head, wondering what had happened.

  She popped back out. “Do you usually like the music on or off?” He shrugged and she disappeared again.

  Strange, but he wasn’t thinking about the woman at hand. He thought again of Jenna gyrating seductively on the dance floor. He walked slowly to the bedroom.

  She was just closing the blinds when he came in. Just enough light filtered through from outside, so he could tell she was undressed. He detected the faint scent of spring wildflowers. Pleasant enough. He felt an upholstered chair in the corner by his leg. He carefully folded each piece of his clothes in a neat pile as if a single wrinkle would ruin his evening in bed with her.
/>
  She was waiting for him, lying on her back. He moved onto the bed and reached over to touch her. He unexpectedly found she was wearing some sort of teddy. He whispered for her to remove it. She sat up quickly, took it off and tossed it on the floor. When she lay back down, she was on her side facing him. He held her cheek in his hand and kissed her softly.

  It had been some time since he was in bed with a woman. A feeling he wasn’t likely to forget. Prissy was quite acceptable. She was okay to be with and her face was pleasant. Since he wasn’t pursuing her, he’d never thought much about the rest of her. He raised himself up on one elbow. Even in the faint light, the shape of her naked body was an agreeable surprise: well proportioned with long legs and exceptionally full breasts. If she was modest and preferred a darkened bedroom it was fine with him, but why did she always hide the traces of such an attractive body under those boring clothes she wore?

  He reached out and touched her. He moved his hand slowly from her neck and shoulder down to her waist, across her stomach and then to her hip, tracing the outline of her body. Jenna was entirely gone from his thoughts. He moved his palm back and forth on her hip and thigh stroking her soft skin. He whispered that her body was beautiful.

  Her skin was smooth and tight, and his mind went back to Jingfei and her game. Jingfei would come up his room each afternoon after she closed her Hong Kong bookshop. They would lie there together with the harbor breeze stirring the beaded curtains into the room. She would lie with her head resting on his chest to be close to his heart she explained, while he listened to the unfamiliar exotic noises from the busy street below the open window. She wasn’t young, yet she was charming and had the body of a marathon runner with smooth, warm skin and small breasts as soft as pillows. On their first night together, he was so fascinated he stayed awake just to watch her sleep.

  In Jingfei’s game, each would run their hands over the other’s body, playfully avoiding the sensitive areas, to see who could go the longest before surrendering to passion. In time, he improved and could last longer and longer. He had progressed with his movements to where she would let out soft moans and occasionally squirm, but she always won. She would have continued to move her hands over his body all night, if that’s what it took. When he could stand it no longer, he’d reach out to embrace her. She’d laugh with delight as though it was the first time any of it had ever happened. She would then announce proudly in her broken English, “Jingfei make you say ‘Uncle’.”

  He had cancelled his plan of travelling on to Liege and stayed in Hong Kong with Jingfei for almost three months. Unexpectedly, at the last, she told him she was leaving and going to her sister on the mainland in Guilin. She wouldn’t tell him why. When he asked her what was wrong, she just covered her eyes with her palms; he didn’t know what that meant. They sat up and talked tearfully the night before she left and didn’t make love; he wanted to know everything about her—everything from the day she was born. The next morning he carried her one cloth bag to the train and she left. He waved goodbye and stood on the platform looking down the tracks after the train was out of sight. He took his time coming back, meandering along side streets looking at places where he’d been with her. Back at the bookstore, when he asked her friend Huan about her, all she said was, “Sick.” And started crying.

  His Travel Visa for Hong Kong was expiring, and it was impossible to follow her onto the Chinese mainland. He was unable to pursue her. In his heart, he was certain whatever was wrong somehow she had survived. No doubt, she found some lovely young man who was delighted to spend long afternoons touching her. Surely, she was now living a happy life in the peaceful countryside. He could hope. As long as there was hope, the story of Jingfei could have a happy ending.

  Gliding his hands over the smooth contours of Prissy’s body had taken his mind a world away to Hong Kong. Now he slowly came out of the dream, though somehow, he could still hear soft moans and could feel a body squirming and arching under his hands. Suddenly, the body jerked. He realized Priscilla was stretched out before him, and he was caressing her with both hands.

  She turned quickly onto her side to face him. She reached out and pulled him fiercely against her. She was breathless and he could feel the heat from her body. Then she cried out, locked one of her long legs over him and clenched him to her. She continued to hold him tightly in her arms. Finally, she relaxed with her one leg still draped over him. She gave out a deep sigh.

  Much later, he must have fallen asleep. The last thing he remembered was the quietness. No rustle of beaded curtains being blown into the room by a harbor breeze, no exotic noises from a crowded street.

  Chapter Ten

  Sandy was spending the afternoon alone in her office speculating on the courtyard murder of Margaret Frome. To get her mind started at these times, she would draw a line down the center of a yellow pad and begin questioning what was known and unknown. Today the process wasn’t working. She didn’t get far on the “known” side as she had too few details to deal with. She stopped when she caught herself doodling on the pad.

  She needed copies of the police and ME reports. Chip had warned her to butt out of the police investigation. She phoned him anyway and asked if he’d pick up and bring the reports home with him.

  “I’m already home, sweetheart,” he answered. “Those are public records. You could get them yourself, although the ME report probably isn’t final. Okay if I check on that for you tomorrow?”

  “Sure. Why don’t I come over now and we’ll spend some time together? Want me to stop and pick up something for dinner?” She wasn’t about to cook for him. He didn’t care for her cooking anyway.

  “Good idea. But none of your weird Philadelphia food like squid, or eels or whatever. And can you make it Thai this time? Get some spring rolls too.”

  One might think the dinner meal would be awkward for them, but they understood the arrangement. His cooking was primeval. He could boil water for pasta. After the pasta was cooked, he might or might not have anything to put on it. If they didn’t go out, or if one of them didn’t bring anything home, a meal for that evening was up for grabs and was a good excuse to walk three blocks over to the ice cream parlor. She never intended for food to be the highlight of their nights together anyway.

  He was in the kitchen opening a bottle of wine when she came in and asked, “Can we eat right away? I could smell the food in the car all the way over here. All I could think about was how I’d get to eat in just a few minutes. I passed cars on the right and left, ran a stop sign....”

  “Okay, okay, I get the picture.” He set the boxes of food on the table and took down some dishes.

  “Please tell me you had a boring day. I’m so glad when my favorite city detective has a boring day. May all your days on the job be unexciting.”

  “In which case I’d quit,” he replied. “I’ll get you the reports you want, but please remind me why I’m aiding and abetting your interference with a police investigation. What else? Oh, and I’m off tomorrow.”

  “I know you’re off tomorrow. That’s why I’m here tonight.” That statement brought a grin to his face. She slept over a couple of nights a week, usually when he had the next day off.

  Chip’s seniority of five years as a detective sergeant on the Park Beach City Police assured him of the First-Shift hours of seven to five, four days a week. He loved it and his hours were fine with her. She kept a toothbrush and a small bag of toiletries at his place but few clothes. The older neighborhood had been comforted for years seeing various police vehicles parked in the Goddard driveway. No one was concerned about the bright red Miata convertible occasionally parked overnight in front of his house.

  The house was a reasonably modern three bedroom in an older oak-tree wooded neighborhood. His folks had bought the house just after he was born in celebration of his father’s promotion to Chief of Police. They could have bought the house next door with a backyard pool for a small additional amount. At that time, his father thought having the only
swimming pool on the block was a bit pretentious for a public servant. Now such pools were common. Chip did sometimes wish he had a pool back there, yet the beach wasn’t all that far.

  Had she thought of moving in? She’d never seriously considered it. Nesting with a man, even a dream-sort-of-guy like Chip was not in her plans. Perhaps later after she became a big deal criminal defense lawyer seeking justice for the innocent and winning hopeless cases for desperate people.

  He poured the wine, and they sat with the meal spread in boxes before them. “I’ve some new info on the courtyard shooting. Jaworski told me they have more on the victim. Her name will be in the paper for the first time tomorrow, which might bring in more leads. She’s mid-thirties. Her husband, Robert, is a couple of years older. Neighbors think she’s a secretary. Police found her diploma from Tulane in their apartment. She had an MBA.”

  “That’s in New Orleans, isn’t it? So we have a well-educated secretary with a southern drawl. What does the husband have to say?

  “Could be just innocently out of town. He phoned her the night of the murder from some hotel in Atlanta, and their answering machine picked up. Said he’d be home this weekend. The implication being he’s on a business trip.”

  “Difficult to trace a call made to an answering machine. He might have been across the street instead of Atlanta.”

  “Some machines have caller ID. I don’t know about theirs. In any case, he didn’t have his phone with him. The crime unit found his and her cellphones in the apartment. His on the table by the front door. Hers in her handbag in the bedroom. They’ll check his alibi.”

  “On the phone, the victim told Martin she’d give hubby a phony excuse about going down to the community room to get out of the apartment that night. Now you tell me he wasn’t even home. She didn’t have to sneak around to meet one of us because hubby was out of town. Doesn’t make sense.”

  He shook out the last of the rice from the white carton. “You’re right. I imagine Jaworski picked up on that, maybe not. He’s getting older and not as focused as he used to be”