by Cade Brogan
Tension wrench.
Torque.
Pick.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
The neighbor’s door opened.
She looked up, cold to the core.
“Hello,” the old man greeted, smiling thinly. He was slightly taller than average with dyed hair and a slim build. He wrinkled his brow, studying her.
Joanna swallowed, her heartbeat racing as she surreptitiously palmed her tools. “Hello,” she blurted out. She fought the urge to fidget, smiling.
“Don’t think she’s home right now,” he said. “Can I help you with something?” His eyes narrowed, still studying her.
“No,” Joanna said. You’re blinking too fast, she told herself. She stepped back from the door. Slow down. He’s already suspicious enough. She took a quiet breath with her fake smile. “She wasn’t expecting me,” she added, “I’ll come back later.” Her muscles tensed as she walked off. Ready to fight or run, she made her way down the hall as if without a care in the world. When she stepped into the stairwell, she ran like hell.
***
Rylee held the door with both hands, determined to shut it soundlessly. A table lamp was on in the living room, but otherwise her place was dark. She tiptoed down the hall to adjust the thermostat upward, noting that the guest bedroom door was closed. She paused for a moment, taking a soft breath, and then continued on, to tug open the refrigerator door. She swigged orange juice from the carton, swigged again, and called out for Buckshot. “You wanna go out?” she whispered. In seconds, he came toward her from the direction of her bedroom. As she clipped on his leash, she heard Kenzie’s voice.
“I took him out at eleven,” she called out. “I don’t think he has to go.”
Rylee sucked in air, mouth open, and held it. “Thanks,” she called back, wondering what she was going to do now. She took off her jacket, hung it up, and switched off the light. She was slipping out of her holster as she came through the bedroom door. “Sorry, it’s so late,” she said.
“No problem,” Kenzie answered, yawning. “I fell asleep sometime after midnight.” She glanced to the dog. “I hope it was okay that he was up here with me.”
“It was,” Rylee responded softly. “He does that sometimes.” She smiled. “And not just with anyone.” As she secured her weapon, she added that she’d ended up being out on a triple homicide. “I hate gangs,” she said, exhaling, “just hate ‘em.” She shook her head. “Too many people, mostly young, dying for nothing.”
“I know,” Kenzie responded, “it’s terrible. The streets are so dangerous these days.” She took a breath as she propped onto her elbow. She was wearing Rylee’s navy CPD t-shirt.
“It looks good on you,” Rylee said, smiling thinly.
“Thanks,” Kenzie said, smiling back. “I didn’t figure you’d mind.”
“Nope, not at all,” Rylee answered. “But you didn’t have to wear one of the old ones.”
“I looked through all of ‘em,” Kenzie admitted, holding her gaze, “and then picked the one I wanted.”
“That’s good then,” Rylee responded with a nod. Her smile wavered as she sat down on the edge of the king sized bed beside her. “I’m not sure what to do here,” she said softly. She took a breath. “I’m just not sure what to do.”
Kenzie reached out, gently stroking her shoulder as they held one another’s gaze. “Come to bed,” she said softly, “and we’ll talk.”
“I don’t know,” Rylee repeated, reaching down to untie her shoes. Her stomach quivered as she set them underneath her nightstand.
“I don’t either,” Kenzie admitted softly. “I just know that I want us to try more than anything.”
Rylee got up, tossed her socks into the clothes basket, and continued their conversation from the doorway of her closet. “What about Abby?” she asked, frowning as she sucked in a breath that filled her lungs. “And your parents? And that church of yours? And Pastor Mark?”
Kenzie looked off.
“That’s what I thought,” Rylee responded, continuing to look her way until she looked back. “No,” she went on with a downward shake of her head, “because I already know how this’ll turn out.” She pressed her lips together. “I can’t do it again, Kenz,” she added, “it nearly killed me the last time.” She opened the third drawer of her dresser, collected her maroon pinstriped pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt, and looked over. “I’ll be down the hall if you need me,” she said softly.
Kenzie’s lower lip began to tremble. “You can’t just expect me to have it all figured out,” she choked. “Not when you just came back into my life.”
Rylee turned around.
“Please, Rye,” Kenzie begged, “can’t you just come to bed and talk about it?”
“Yeah,” Rylee said softly, “I can do that.”
***
Kenzie’s tongue darted out to moisten her lips.
Rylee’s eyes darted over. She took a breath, unfastened the lowest button of her shirt, and allowed the shirt to fall open.
“Your ears are turning red,” Kenzie announced, playfully. She bit her lower lip as a slow smile eclipsed her mouth.
“They are not,” Rylee responded, with complete focus on her belt buckle.
“Uh-huh. And your cheeks too,” Kenzie chuckled. She pushed the sheet midway down to expose everything above her waistline.
“I think you’re the one who’s hot,” Rylee commented, raising an eyebrow.
“I wasn’t until now,” Kenzie responded, flipping her hair from side-to-side, and fingering it off her forehead.
Rylee held her eye as she dropped her trousers.
“Mmm, those are different,” Kenzie commented with a slight lift to her voice. She swallowed, taking in the black boxer briefs and matching sports bra. “I like ‘em.”
“Yeah,” Rylee said, “me too. They’re a better fit in more ways than one.”
“I’ll say,” Kenzie answered, making firm eye contact. “Never really cared much for the boxer look until right now.”
Rylee shook her head, unclasping her bra, and dropping it into the laundry.
“Come here,” she said softly, adding, “before you put on your t-shirt.”
Rylee’s breath caught in her throat, stepping to the bedside.
Kenzie reached out, touching the most sensitive spot on her abdomen. “What’s this?” she asked, her brow furrowing.
“I don’t think you really want to know,” Rylee responded, meeting her eye.
“You’re probably right,” Kenzie said, swallowing hard. “Someone shot you, didn’t they, Rye.”
Rylee nodded, pursing her lips. “Yeah,” she said, “got in the middle of a domestic squabble. Unfortunately, it involved a Colt single action revolver.” She shook her head. “Stupid rookie mistake that ended up turning out alright.” She pointed to the outer edge of the old injury. “Went through the muscle right here.” She turned around, showing her back. “And came out the other side.”
Kenzie sucked in air, unable to focus. How had she let this happen? How could she be off living her life on the day Rylee was shot? What if she’d died without knowing that she still loved her? A tear trickled down her cheek without being noticed.
“I got lucky,” Rylee continued, her eyes wide with her story. “When it got me way over on my side, it didn’t go into my abdominal cavity at all. Man, did that sucker ever hurt like hell though. And bleed.” She shook her head. “You’d have thought someone butchered a hog.” She brought her words to an abrupt halt when she caught Kenzie’s eye. “You don’t have to worry, Kenz,” she said, brushing a tear away with her thumb, “I’m fine.” She palmed her cheek as her voice faded off. “Took no time at all to get over.”
“I’m so sorry,” Kenzie said, her chest aching, and her thoughts spinning inward.
“It’s okay,” Rylee soothed, kissing her forehead, and the tip of her nose. “It was a long time ago.” She s
at next to her and gathered her into her arms.
“I missed you,” Kenzie murmured, kissing her neck. “I missed you so much, more than you’ll ever know.” She caught her scent, nuzzling. “Mmmm,” she moaned.
Rylee fingered through her curls, lost in her eyes. “I missed you too,” she whispered back, kissing her lips as the ocean kisses its shoreline.
“Lay with me,” Kenzie said softly, turning back the sheet, and scooting over.
Rylee settled onto her side. “Come here,” she murmured, “and let me hold you.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Kenzie opened her eyes to darkness, as heavy as a winter blanket. She rolled softly onto her back, determined to not wake Rylee. She’d been out until one, was completely exhausted when she dropped into bed, and they’d talked until three. It was good that they had, but she needed her sleep. Rylee needed as much as she could get in order to focus and stay safe on that job. She looked over, fighting the urge to kiss her bare shoulder. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to make it all okay. She couldn’t see her way through, not without her world crumbling around her. She felt restless but stifled a twitch. Dear God, please help me, she prayed. She thought about Abby. She’d never forgive her, not once she knew that the reason it hadn’t worked with her dad was because she was a lesbian; not once she realized that her mom had never loved him at all; not once she told her the truth about Rylee, her friend from college, her friend who’d always been so much more. She licked her lips, pushing the dryness in her mouth out of mind. She thought about her parents. They wouldn’t be surprised, not really, not once she told them she’d run into Rylee. And, Pastor Mark will be as floored as Abby, she told herself. She sucked in air, allowed it to escape, and thought through how that conversation would go. The end result would be that she’d lose her job. And once that happened, she felt sure she’d be looking for a new church. She swallowed what tasted like dry bones, watching the ceiling fan spin slowly. But she could get another job. Maybe not as good, but she’d get one. Ever so gently, she moved a little closer to Rylee—feeling alone, and yet for the first time since college, not at all. She smiled thinly, capturing her scent, and holding it until she had no choice but to let go. She’d been ready, so ready, but Rylee hadn’t wanted to push her. She’d said it was best that she had time to let it settle before they moved forward. She bit her lower lip, moving closer, wanting to kiss her bare shoulder more than anything in the world.
Rylee stirred, her eyes opening to Kenzie’s. “You’re awake,” she murmured, smiling a sweet sleepy smile. “Come here,” she said, stretching her arm across the pillows to gather her in. “You’ve been crying,” she said softly, kissing her forehead.
Kenzie nodded, unable to still her trembling lower lip.
Rylee fingered through a lock of her hair, saying, “It’ll be okay.”
“I know. It’s just a lot to figure out,” Kenzie peeped. “But I will, you’ll see.”
“We’ll figure it out together,” Rylee promised, palming the back of Kenzie’s head to press her cheek against her chest.
“We…” Kenzie murmured, nuzzling, and kissing her breast.
“Yeah, we…” Rylee said, tipping her chin upward to kiss her lips. She stretched and yawned. “Well, I think it’s about time for me to get to work,” she added, holding her gaze. “Dinner?”
Kenzie nodded, “And then maybe stay at my place?”
“You bet,” Rylee said.
***
“It just bugs me,” Rylee mumbled, rereading silently what she’d just read out loud.
“What does?” Rich asked, looking up from the most recent of their autopsy reports.
“How she knew it was wolfsbane,” Rylee responded in a tone that said Rich should’ve known. She’d been sharing tidbits from Poisonous Plants of the World off-and-on for the last hour. “Look, it says right here that it only leaves one sign that can be picked up in an autopsy, asphyxia. Says death is due to an arrhythmia in the heart which ends up suffocating the person.”
“She just knew, that’s all,” Rich said with a shrug of his shoulder. “I mean she’s got a doctorate in pharmacology in addition to everything else. Maybe she learned something in that curriculum that nobody else knows.”
“Maybe,” Rylee responded, shaking her head, “but it still bugs me.”
“So ask her about it,” Rich suggested, checking his watch. “We’ll be over there in a couple of hours.”
Rylee nodded, responding, “I will.”
***
Rich flashed his ID, saying, “We’ve got a one o’clock with Dr. Grey.”
“Not today you don’t,” the receptionist responded, looking over her glasses, and running her finger down a page. “She called in. Benjamin Holmes is covering for her.” She nodded down the corridor. “Go on back. He’s in three.”
Rich leaned over as they walked the hallway. “The stinker’s room,” he whispered.
Rylee shook her head. “Be good,” she said.
“I’m always good,” Rich countered, lifting an eyebrow, and cocking his head.
Rylee rolled her eyes, tugged the door, and stepped in. “Long time, no see,” she greeted, extending her hand to the kind-eyed, silver-haired gentleman.
The wrinkles around Ben’s eyes smiled with him. “Rylee Hayes,” he said, making a tisking sound, “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to you being a grown-up detective.”
“Well you’d better,” Rylee responded, grinning, “because one of these days I’m gonna make sergeant, and I wouldn’t want you to think I skipped a rank.”
“I’d never think that,” Ben chuckled. “So, how’s your grandpa doing?” he asked, making tender eye contact. “Is he doing okay?”
Rylee nodded. “Better than he was for quite a while,” she responded. “Thanks for asking about him.”
“Glad to hear it,” Ben said, turning to Rich. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, Detective Winters,” he added, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to see you too. And your family, are they well?” he asked.
“Yeah, all good,” Rich responded, smiling. “And it’s just Rich, okay?”
“Yes, just Rich,” Ben repeated. “I can’t seem to remember that, can I?” He turned toward the walk-in cooler. “I’ll strive to do better next time,” he added. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said, tilting his head, “I’ll go collect our deceased.” Number one of three. They’d be in-and-out of this place for the next couple days.
“Before you do that,” Rylee said, “I’ve got a question I want to ask you.” She cocked her head, holding his gaze. “It’s about another case.”
“That’s alright,” Ben responded. “Ask away.”
“So about wolfsbane…” Rylee began.
“Of the genus Aconitum,” Ben interjected.
“Yes,” Rylee said, “I was just reading about that.”
“It’s quite deadly,” Ben added. “It can kill within six hours of consumption.”
“And even quicker if it’s injected,” Rylee said.
“Yes, much more quickly,” Ben agreed, smiling. “You’ve done your homework, Detective.”
“I try,” Rylee answered, smiling back. “So, what I want to know is, can you know for sure that wolfsbane killed somebody from an autopsy?”
“Not with certainty,” Ben answered, his eyes narrowing, “but you can strongly suspect that that’s the case.”
“Thanks,” Rylee said, looking off for a second.
“Problem?” Ben asked.
“No,” Rylee responded with a slow shake of her head, “just thinking.”
***
You knew it would come to this, Joanna told herself as she positioned the pads of the Japanese Butterfly Clamp on her left nipple. The only adjustment available on the shiny device was to pull the string at its base, an adjustment that tightened the clamp, and inflicted increasingly severe pain. It was an act of self-mortification that she reserved for
instances of extreme disobedience, most often sexual fantasies. Disgusting, vile slime, that’s what you are. She positioned the pads of the second clamp on her right nipple. Out until the wee hours of the morning—watching her—watching them—making critical errors. She’d come in so late, been so exhausted, that she’d overslept, and had to call in. Someone else had to do your work today, she screamed in her mind, because you dallied in the Devil’s playground. She winced, yanking both strings. “You deserve far more than this,” she snarled. Tears tumbled down her cheeks as she pulled again. “And more is what you’ll get.” She filled a hypodermic syringe with a green liquid, a concoction she’d prepared before going to bed, injecting it into her vein. “There you go,” she spat, wincing with another strong pull to both strings. “Now you have what you deserve,” she whimpered, jerking to the maximum setting. “You can vomit and be hypersensitive to pain for the entire day.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“You want one?” Rich asked, snagging a Snickers from the brown bag before tossing it her way.
Rylee fingered a Mounds but closed the bag. “No, better not,” she said, looking across their desks to meet his gaze. “We’re going out for barbecue tonight, and I want to be hungry.”
“I thought you went out last night,” Rich responded.
“We did,” Rylee said, fully aware of the pros and cons of the situation.
“Okay then,” Rich answered, drawing out the words as his smile widened.
“I have to keep an eye on her at night,” Rylee said, exhaling. “God, we still have so much to figure out, but…” She shook her head, exhaling again. “I know it’s moving too fast, but I don’t know any other way to keep her safe.”
“You’re worrying more than you need to about that if you ask me,” Rich said.
“Keeping her safe or moving too fast,” Rylee asked, lifting both eyebrows.