by Mia Caldwell
He switched cars at his house, not wanting to be seen driving in the easily recognized sheriff’s cruiser. He’d purchased a nondescript retired rental car from one of his black market contacts and slapped on an out of state license plate with a fake registration tag. This was the car he always used when visiting “the studio.” He put on his ball cap and sunglasses, then headed out. He hadn’t been there since, well, Jana had disappeared. That had been, what – two weeks ago? It reeked as usual, so opened the windows, and sprayed several cans of air freshener around. It helped a bit, but not enough. He found some weed and set a stick on fire, using it like a sage wand. That helped.
Her heard tires on gravel, and readied his gun, just in case. “Hello, it’s me?” came Florence’s cheerful voice. He checked his watch. She was late, no doubt on purpose.
He opened the door for her and she took in a sniff. He lit the joint he’d rolled and took a deep drag before placing it in her mouth. She sucked it in, and exhaled. He rubbed the joint out and set it in an ashtray.
She gazed at him with lust in her eyes and dropped her long coat of her shoulders, letting it fall onto the ground.
As expected, she’d dressed for the occasion. Undergarments made of leather and chains. Her over tanned dried up tits hung inside the clutches of a leather cup. A painful pair of nipple clamps twisted her nipples.
She had her fingers dipping in and out of the space below her unshaved graying muff.
“I’m late,” she said as she licked her lips. “Aren’t you going to spank me?”
“Not yet, Florence. What was it you wanted to tell me?”
“Oh, okay,” Florence said. She turned around and bent from the waist, showing the sheriff the butt floss that disappeared inside her too tanned but crack. She picked up a bag by her feet and tossed it to him.
He caught it, and started to look inside.
He stared at some clothes and a women’s purse. “So, what’s this?”
“Remember that girl, you were looking for. Well, these are her things. She left them at the bar, last night.”
Harold’s pulse raced a little. He pulled out the purse and opened the wallet. Jana.
“Where was she?”
“At the bar, last night – but then you know that – you were there?”
“I was?”
“Yes, Harold, don’t you remember. You showed up in the middle of her performance and trashed the place.”
“You’re lying,” he said and slapped her hard across the face.
She gasped, then turned her sexiest smile on him. “Do that again,” she begged as she pulled on her nipple clamps.
“Where is she now?”
“I don’t know,” Florence said. “But, her friends came in this morning and said she was missing. I thought you’d rather have her things then let her friends have them.”
Harold nodded. Yes, he was happy to have her license, but this seemed like an inadequate reason for him to give this women a fuck. “Was there something else, you wanted to tell me?”
“Actually, yes. My husband has surveillance footage of you shooting your gun in the parking lot.”
That got the sheriff’s attention.
Video evidence of something he didn’t remember doing, this was bad news. He didn’t like that – not at all.
“So you brought it?” he asked, checking deep in the bag.
“No,” she said, sounding worried. “I couldn’t. Sam and those people were looking at it. I just grabbed Jana’s stuff so they wouldn’t find it, and then I called you.”
Harold lost his temper. He backhanded her, harder than before.
Her eyes lit up. “So you’re going to punish me?” she said hopefully.
“Yeah, I’m going to punish you. Lean over.”
Her gratitude and excitement obvious, Florence went to the kitchen counter and folded her upper body over it.
“Stay put.”
He went to the kitchen, opened a drawer, and pulled out a mask and a riding crop.
He handed her the mask. “Put this on,” he said.
Barely able to contain her excitement, she fitted the tight mask over her eyes. Then she turned around, leaned over from her waist and adjusted her boobs against the cold tile counter.
Harold took the whip and started in on her. Back of her thighs and then her ass and back. “Yes,” she cried out. “Yes, yes,” she screamed with each crack of braided leather strips.
She was crying happily, and her backside was good and marked, so he pulled her arms off the kitchen counter and guided her roughly to the bedroom. He was glad he’d remember the mask, because she couldn’t see the plastic covering the walls.
“Get on the bed,” he said.
“What’s this?” she asked, as her hands touched tarp.
He ignored her. “Lie on your back. I’m going to whip your tits and cunt, and then I’m going to fuck you until you bleed.”
“Yes, sir,” she said enthusiastically.
He did as promised, lashing against her tits, her stomach and crotch and inner thighs, until she screamed from the pleasure and the pain of it. He’d never known a women who got off as much on pain as the fish face. He had to admit, it aroused him almost as much as what he intended to do to her.
He covered his head. Turned on the camera, then mounted her. Her legs rapped around him as he pulled her skinny hips into him, impaling her stretched out pussy with his cock. He hammered into her as she screamed in ecstasy, then just as he felt himself coming – he pulled out – and got off the bed.
“Come back,” she moaned.
“Stay still,” he ordered. She lay back on the bed, touching herself, panting.
He adjusted his hood so he could see through the eye holes as his cock throbbed between his legs. Out of breath, he located his gun, then went back to the bed – to his mark.
With his dominant hand lining up the shot, he used his left hand to bring himself close. Just as his balls tightened and he knew he was about to come – he shouted.
“Sit up, and take off your mask – I want you to see this.”
Obediently, with sat up and with shaking fingers lifted the edge of her mask. In the final moment of his arousal, he smiled at the horror in her eyes, then put a hole neatly between her eyes as he spilled the last of his seed in the direction of her dying cunt.
Chapter Fifteen
Bombshell woke from a fitful sleep and started at the sight of Merrick’s housekeeper, Joann sitting in a chair beside her bed.
“How are you feeling?” Joann asked.
Bombshell pulled the covers up to her neck, her breasts had been exposed to this women. Her cheeks burned. “What are you doing in my room? Where’s Merrick?”
“Calm down, honey – Merrick won’t be coming back tonight.”
“What do you mean? Why not?”
“Well, he’s already done enough, don’t you think?”
“What are you talking about?” Bombshell could feel the panic rising. Something was all wrong.
“Well, the doctor thought you should get some rest – after what you experienced.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re reaction – the trigger, your’ post-traumatic stress. Don’t you remember what happened to you? The reason we called the doc?”
Bombshell shook her head.
“Well, let me tell you honey, you were freaked out – totally terrified. It was so bad, that I immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion and thought that Merrick had – uh – hurt you.”
Her eyes rolled back slightly in her head and she closed her eyes – allowing herself to feel her body, to take inventory. An incredible soreness throbbed between her legs and drifted into her consciousness. He did hurt me, but, man it hurts so good.
“But, of course, I realized that I was being silly – please don’t tell Merrick I told you about that. He was extremely upset with me for even thinking such things.”
Then she leaned towards Bombshell, her face serious as the plague. “He
didn’t rape you, did he?”
“Of course not,” Bombshell said, rising to her fiancé’s defense, “He’d never do such a thing. He’s my fiancé.”
“Like I said, it was a crazy reaction on my part – but, you were so upset when I found you – you understand, how I could go there. Considering you were clearly recently well – having indulged… Please don’t tell Merrick I said anything – I never should have.”
Bombshell saw the feisty women’s face turn a little bit pink.
“It’s alright, but you have to tell me what I did, because I don’t remember any of it.”
“Not even when the doctor came?”
“What doctor?”
“Wow.”
“What did I do to warrant a doctor?”
“Well, basically, I guess after you too had sex, you kind a freaked out – as in seriously freaked out.”
“Meaning, what exactly?”
“Well, you screamed and then curled up into a ball, and acted like you’d just seen a million puppies getting their brains bashed in.”
Bombshell winced at the horrible image.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that – but basically, that’s how you were. Super terrified and horrified, and well, catatonic.”
“Doctor thinks that you had something pretty bad happen to you in the past and he thinks that’s why you might have amnesia, and while you were having sex, one of the memories must have been triggered. He thinks your suffering from PTSD.”
“God, that’s so weird, I still can’t believe I behaved like that – I honestly don’t remember anything.”
“What is the last thing you remember?” Joann asked.
Bombshell looked up at the ceiling as she tried to remember. “I remember lying next to him on the bed, and then…” Bombshell turned her head from side to side. “Then you came in and woke me up from a nap.”
“Sorry about that, I just wanted to check on you.” Joann said. She hugged Bombshell and reminded her not to say anything to Merrick about their conversation. Bombshell promised that she wouldn’t say a word, then curled herself back under the covers and went back to sleep.
~~*~~
Merrick hustled up the hill in time to be there when the helicopter landed. Tony jumped out and kept his head down as he cleared the blades and jogged to where Merrick was standing. “Where is she, bro?” Tony had to shout to be heard above the helicopter noise. “I expected a welcoming committee at the very least. I want to see for myself the woman that managed to persuade Merrick Flynn to get hitched.”
Merrick punched his younger brother in the arm. “Shut up, Tony,” he said. He pulled his brother in for a hug, holding onto him a little longer than usual.
“What’s up bro? You alright?”
Merrick wondered why the guy hadn’t turned off his rotors. A moment later, he understood, when the bird lifted off the ground and hovered above them. The wind from the moving blades picked up dirt and leaves, and Merrick had to cover his mouth so he wouldn’t inhale flying dirt.
“Where’s he going?” Merrick asked.
“He’s staying at a hotel in Linton. I made the reservation before we left. He needs to get a full tank of gas, and I wanted him to bring a thermos of Starbucks for the long flight back.”
Merrick sighed. He was going to ask Tony to take them back before dark. But now, that idea was off the table, because the helicopter had flown to Linton for frickin’ Starbucks.
Merrick walked Tony back towards the house. He wasn’t sure what to say about his situation with Bombshell, so he avoided the subject by giving Tony the grand exterior tour.
“I’d like to use a toilet, if it’s not too much to ask,” Tony said, as he heaved his back over the loose dirt and gravel trail.
“Oh, sorry, bro.”
They went inside and after Tony his the can, he came out, wiping wet hands on his pants.
“So, when to I get to meet this girl?”
“She’s taking a nap right now,” Merrick said.
Tony went to the bar and poured himself a drink. He walked around the large living room. “This is really nice, bro, I can see why you bought it.”
Merrick basked in the praise of his little half-brother. “Here let me show you the rest.”
When they finished the ground floor tour, Merrick headed for the bar. He wanted a drink as well. He expected Tony to follow him to get a refill, but instead he’d wandered off and started up the stairs.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“Don’t I get to see the bedrooms? Where’s this Bombshell you’ve been hiding? Did you make her up?”
Joann appeared on the stairs. “Oh, hello,” she said as she rushed down. She extended her hand to Tony. “You must be Tony, Merrick’s brother?”
They exchanged their greetings, and the next thing both brothers knew, they were rushed to the kitchen, where Joann insisted on making them both a snack.
“How’s Bombshell?” Merrick asked casually.
“Oh, she’s fine.”
After Merrick and his brother finished their meal, Joann shooed them out of the kitchen. She needed to start dinner. Merrick took Tony to his room, a guest room on the bottom floor. Tony said he’d take a leaf out of Bombshell’s book and grab himself a nap, so Merrick left him to it and headed to his office.
In his office, he powered on his cabin computer. He had Internet, which is exactly what he needed. He did searches on PTSD and amnesia, and psychologists and hospitals specializing in the treatment of same, and wrote down a few names to call. Then he called Linda and asked her to book a doctor’s appointment for Bombshell. He gave her the name Mona Lisa Van Dyke and wondered if Tony had any luck getting the fake ID.
He went back to the bar and poured himself a second whiskey and soda, then returned to the computer for one more search.
Sheriff Harold Buck of Placid County was entered into the search bar. To his surprise, quite a few entries came up. He took out a pad of paper and started taking notes. Then he called his cousin Giovanni who worked as a private detective when he wasn’t helping out at the family restaurant.
“Yo, Giovanni here,” Giovanni said.
“It’s me, Merrick,” Merrick said. “I’m calling on business – important business.”
“Talk to me.”
“I need you to find out how I can take down a certain asshole,” Merrick said.
“Taking down assholes is what I love to do man, who is he?”
Merrick gave his cousin all the information he had, including a bit of background about how he’d shot as his girl and put a few bullets in his truck. Giovanni assured him that if there was any dirt on the guy, he’d find it, and promised to get back to him as soon as possible.
After Merrick hung up, he almost felt like he was getting back under his control. He lifted his glass into the air and made a promise. “Sheriff Buck, you’re about to get fucked.”
Chapter Sixteen
After their meeting with Sam at the bar, Holly waited with Jimmy for a tow-truck. The tow-truck driver took Jimmy car and Holly drove Jimmy to his house. She stopped by the Mail Boxes Incredible and made a Missing Person flyer, then went home, hoping that she’d just wasted good money on a needless flyer. But the apartment was as quiet and empty as it had been when she’d left it, with no sign of Jana. Despair gripped at Holly’s heart.
Holly had a few hours before her shift, so she cleaned her apartment to try and distract herself. As she worked, she kept going over in her mind, everything that had happened, as she tried to make sense of it. The security footage had been an eye-opener, but it hadn’t helped her find Jana. What she and Jimmy did know, however, was confirmation of what she’d suspected all along. Sheriff Harold Buck was at the root of Jana’s problems.
Jana hadn’t said much about what had happened to her the night she had shown up on Holly’s doorstep, dirty, bruised, and scared. She’d only insisted that she wouldn’t go to the hospital, wouldn’t see a doctor, wouldn’t talk about what happen
ed, and absolutely wouldn’t go back to her boyfriend’s house to get any of her things.
Jana had become increasingly withdrawn after almost a whole week. Depressed, and feeling hopeless. Holly was really worried about her, and hated to leave her home alone while she went to work. When she talked, which was rare, all she did was apologize for being a burden, and assure Holly that somehow she’d find a way to get her car fixed. And then she’d go to Florida and get out of her hair.
But with her car in need of several hundred dollars’ worth of work, and the rest of her things still hostage at her ex’s house, Jana couldn’t see a way out. She wanted to get a job, but she’d become agoraphobic, afraid even to go outside for a second. When Jana spotted the article on the front page of the Misty Falls Journal announcing a talent show Friday night – Jana’s mood improved. Overnight, she had a purpose, a reason for being – and her depression faded away as she focused on preparing for the show.
The phone rang, pulling Jana away from her memories. “Hello?”
“This is Mail Boxes Incredible. Your flyers are ready.”
“Great,” Holly said. Leaving the last few dishes wet on the drying towel, she grabbed her purse and keys and headed out.
She paid for the box of flyers and took one out to look at it. She had used a picture of Jana from her phone, and she winced at seeing her friend’s face. Would she ever see it again? Was Jana still alive?
She read the flyer:
Missing, Jana Peters, age 26
Last seen Friday night
Double XX Bar and Grill
Last seen driving off with the owner of this vehicle.
She listed partial plate number and added her contact information, despite some reservations that she might be putting herself at risk. She bought a roll of clear tape and headed down Main Street, intending to paper downtown with Jana’s face.
But after an hour of trying, almost every business on the main drag, she gave up in frustration. Not one of the small business owners would let her post the flyer. They were nice about it, citing antisolicitation policies, which Holly knew was utter bullshit—especially as several already had other kinds of leaflets posted in their windows. A school play here, a book club meeting there. When she recognized one of the shop owners as a person she’d seen helping with the cleanup at the Double XX, it suddenly became clear. These people were in the sheriff’s crosshairs, and none of them wanted him to direct his ire at them. Chicken shits.