Dunston Falls

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Dunston Falls Page 5

by Al Lamanda


  “Like?”

  “What’s it like to live in a big city like Baltimore?”

  Peck took another sip of coffee. “Like living anywhere else, I suppose. It’s just bigger with more people around to bother you and get in your way while you try to protect them.”

  “No big city stories? No modern museums or theatres?” She raised an eyebrow at him that was very sexy to watch. “All those big plays and shows.”

  Peck shrugged. “You don’t attend many theaters and shows on a cops pay. Besides, I never was the theatre going type.”

  Deb smiled and shook her head. “Women, girlfriends, wives?”

  Peck stared at her in such a way; Deb blushed along the base of her neck to her cheeks. Peck found that very sexy, too.

  “I’m sorry, Dave. That was a terrible question,” Deb said.

  Peck shook his head. “Not at all. It’s not the question, but the answer. I’ve never been married. Never even been close.”

  “That is really surprising. You’re a very attractive man.”

  Peck didn’t know what to make of that comment. Maybe there was nothing to make. She could be engaging in simple conversation based on what she said, being nosy. “Not really. I was a cop for twenty-seven years. There wasn’t a whole lot of time for dating and looking for the right woman. After a while, it didn’t seem to matter all that much.”

  Deb nodded in such a way that it told him she understood. “I was married,” she confessed. “He died fifteen years ago when I was only thirty.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It was along time ago and I’m over it and moved on.”

  There was an uncomfortable moment of silence and Peck used the time to sip coffee. Deb smiled at him and stood up. “I’ll be right back,” she said.

  “I’m going to have to get going,” Peck said. I have things I need to do.”

  Deb reached down to silence him with a finger to his lips. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move, okay? There’s nothing that important back at the office it can’t wait a few more minutes.”

  Peck met her eyes and felt himself nod and she turned and left the living room. Peck looked at the fire in the woodstove and lit a cigarette. He wasn’t sure what the point was behind Deb’s line of questioning, other than curiosity. Maybe he had been a bit standoffish since he arrived, but old, city habits are hard to shake once they take root. When things settled down, after the storm broke and the state police arrived to investigate the murder, he would make a conscious effort to open up a bit more. In the meantime, he became aware of the sweat building up on the palms of his hands and a slight, queasiness in his stomach. He wiped them on his pants, feeling silly, like a nervous kid.

  There was a noise and Peck turned his head to look at Deb who was standing in the doorway of the living room. She had changed into a white, full length, silk robe and nothing else. She took several steps forward and candle light behind her shown through the robe, exposing all the curves and mounds of her body. Not that it mattered because parted down the middle; the open robe did little to hide the tips of her breasts and triangle of pubic hair.

  “I’ve tried everything to get your attention, sheriff. Nothing seems to work,” Deb said as she walked toward him. “What does it take?”

  She stopped at the sofa and looked him with her grey, sensuous eyes.

  Peck stared at her breasts and the triangular patch of dark hair. Her stomach was rigid and flat and showed no sign of her forty-five years. The nipples on her breasts were firm and defied her age as well. She was a remarkable looking woman. “That,” he whispered, not knowing why he said it or what else to say.

  “Now be a good law enforcement agent and come over here,” Deb said and yanked him to his feet.

  She kissed him full on the lips, and then broke apart when Peck didn’t respond. “What’s wrong?”

  Peck smiled weakly. “Nothing is wrong. I just can’t remember the last time I kissed a woman.”

  Deb’s face registered her surprise. “Sheriff, there is more to life than catching bad guys and writing parking tickets.”

  She reached for Peck’s heavy utility belt, unhooked it and it fell to the floor. “Here is an example,” she said and opened his pants and pushed him to the sofa.

  Heat was the only word that came to mind to describe the sensation he felt in his loins when Deb gently touched him. It made him uncomfortable, like a kid on his first date. He tried to stand, but she pushed him back against the sofa and removed his heavy boots,

  “Deb, I don’t know…”

  She covered his mouth with his hand. “Just be quiet,” she whispered as she stripped him of his pants. “I don’t often get the opportunity nor have the desire to do what I’m about to do.”

  Peck gasped when she took him in her mouth. Her eyes looked up at him and seemed to smile at his near immediate response.

  The first time they made love on the sofa, Peck was like a runaway freight train. It was quick and clumsy and over in a matter of minutes. She toyed with his hair and told him it was all right, that practice makes perfect.

  The second time was in the bedroom. She aroused him slowly using her mouth and hands and he responded, much to his surprise, like a man twenty years younger. They came together and he knew that he pleased her because after thirty minutes, she dug her nails into his back and drew tiny beads of blood.

  Afterward, they caught their breath, stretched out on the sofa. “See, practice is the key, Dave. Maybe you better come around more often.”

  They fell asleep for several hours, curled up against each other.

  Peck stirred and finally awoke. Deb had shifted in her sleep and her head rested against his chest. He gently lifted her and rolled out of the bed, careful not to disturb her. Then he went downstairs to find his cigarettes and lit one. Walking to the window, he looked out.

  The storm had mostly passed; the hail was little more than a fine mist of ice particles. In the background, thunder rumbled low in the sky. Snow lightning flashed and for a split second, it was broad daylight outside the window. Then the sky darkened and thunder rumbled once again.

  Seemingly captivated, Peck continued to stare out the window. Lightning flashed and bolted to the ground and thunder boomed, echoing for several seconds.

  A thought entered into his mind. He honestly could not remember the name of the last woman he slept with, it was so long ago. He could see her face as a dim shadow. She had shoulder length, blond hair, with pale skin and blue eyes. Her name suited her looks, but nothing familiar popped into his mind no matter how hard he tried to place it.

  Did it matter?

  Deb was right; there was more to life than parking tickets. Much more.

  The lightning flashed again, several times in quick succession. As thunder cracked loudly, Peck felt a tiny spec of pain between his eyes. He rubbed the spot with his fingers until it went away.

  Peck returned to the bedroom, slipped between the covers, and felt the warmth of Deb’s body against his. Listening to her shallow breathing, he was lulled back to sleep. When they both awoke, it was early into the next morning. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they greeted the new day with a smile.

  Driving the snowmobile back to the center of town, Peck relived the events of the morning in his mind. He made a fire while the generator heated the water hot enough for them to share a bath together. He shaved using one of her razors. In the tub, they made love for the third time in a span of twelve hours. To his surprise and her delight, arousal was almost instantaneous and the event lasted nearly thirty minutes.

  Afterward, while he dressed, Deb fixed a hot breakfast. They parted with a kiss at the door. He told her he would see her later on if he could get away. She told him busy or not, a warm bed and a hot meal beat the hell out of a cold cot and a woodstove in the office. He had to admit that she was right.

  Halfway to town, the hail finally let up. The sun shown for the first time in days and light glistened off the ice-covered branches of the trees
like sparkling diamonds. He stopped along a trail to admire the shining star of nature and smoke a cigarette.

  By the time he arrived at the office, it was just after ten AM. Bender and Kranston were huddled around the short wave, listening to a weather update from Augusta. The news was fairly good.

  “Well, good morning, sheriff,” Kranston said when Peck entered the office.

  Bender grinned at him as he removed his jacket and tossed it on the coat rack. “What?” Peck said to his deputy.

  Kranston switched off the shortwave. “Ten days to two weeks before power is fully restored, so they say. We’d be lucky to see a month. But at least the ice has let up statewide.”

  Peck lifted the coffee pot from the woodstove and poured a cup, then sat behind his desk. “How is our food supply?”

  Kranston took the chair opposite Peck’s desk. “Genius, Dave. Bender and his hunting buddies bagged two deer, a half dozen wild turkeys and who knows how many snow shoe hares?”

  “Fifteen,” Bender said.

  “The deer have been stripped, a couple of turkeys are already in the oven and Deb has promised to make stew from the rabbits,” Kranston said.

  “She did? When did you talk to her?”

  Bender suddenly stood up from his desk. “I think it’s safe to the cruiser out for a drive. I’m going to take a spin around and see if we got any stragglers who need a ride.”

  “Throw a gas can in the trunk,” Peck said. “And take your radio.”

  Bender left the office and Peck looked at Kranston. “About the other day, I shouldn’t have lost my temper. We’re paying you to enforce the law and you were just doing your job.”

  Peck accepted Kranston’s feeble attempt at an apology. “Any talk?”

  Kranston shook his head. “Why would there be? Nobody except us knows of the incident.”

  “What about the state police?”

  Again, Kranston shook his head. “Not yet, maybe tomorrow.”

  “You said, you spoke to Deb Robertson,” Peck said. “Did you mean this morning?”

  Kranston looked at Peck and there was a brief pause before he answered. “I’m losing track of time, I suppose. It was probably yesterday.”

  Peck stood up from his desk. “In that case, I think I’ll see if I can catch Jay.”

  Kranston remained motionless as Peck reached for his coat and left the office. After he was gone, Kranston sat motionless for several minutes before he stood up and looked out the window. Removing a pack of gum from a pocket, he slipped a stick out of its wrapper and placed it in his mouth.

  Bender was inspecting the heavy chains on the tires of the cruiser when Peck entered the underground garage. Bender didn’t look happy.

  “We need a new car, Dave. This fifty three won’t last another winter,” Bender said.

  “She’ll make it to summer when the sixty models come out.”

  “Yeah, we got one in the budget?”

  “No.”

  “Want to drive?”

  “No.”

  Bender opened his door and got behind the wheel. Peck entered the passenger side. Bender started the engine and the heavy cruiser clanged loudly as he rolled it up the exit ramp.

  “Tell Kranston we at least want it in the budget to get a radio like the big city cops have,” Bender said. “This hand held junk don’t cut it.”

  Peck lit a cigarette and turned his head to look at Bender. “Who else do we have to call but each other?”

  “There,” Bender said and pointed to a spot past the steering wheel of the cruiser.

  Off in the distance about a hundred yards down the dirt road Bender had turned onto was the abandoned logging camp. Bender turned onto a plowed driveway and slowed the heavy cruiser to a stop in front of the main cabin. “I asked them to plow,” Bender said. “They must have come by yesterday.”

  “Who, the paper company?” Peck said.

  Bender nodded. “It’s still their property.” They exited and walked to the front door of the main facility, which was a log cabin about sixty by sixty in size. Peck tried the doorknob and looked at Bender.

  “It’s open.”

  “I told them we might want to use it.”

  They entered the large, rustic hall, which looked more like a hunting lodge then a logging camp. The air smelled damp and musty. Peck scanned the interior, noting the two fireplaces, tables, chairs, sofas and pool tables, all generic in appearance and a decade out of date in style.

  “It isn’t wired for electricity, but they got it set up for generators, lights and cooking,” Bender said.

  “You stayed here?”

  Bender nodded. “I was maybe twenty one, right before they closed it down. Logging is back breaking work.”

  “It will do,” Peck said. “We’ll tell Ed when we get back to town.”

  “Feel like looking for some stragglers now?” Bender said.

  “Yes.”

  “Want to drive?”

  “No.”

  It was after six PM when Peck and Bender returned to the center of town. Their first stop was Deb’s Diner where it was another full house. After a fifteen minute wait, one of Deb’s waitresses led them to a window table where Doctor McCoy and Father Regan joined them.

  As the waitress poured coffee, Peck looked at her. “Is Deb around?”

  “Not yet. Paco swung by her place on the way in earlier. She said she would drive herself now that the ice has stopped.”

  Peck nodded and the waitress took their orders.

  “I can’t say I like the idea of her driving herself,” Regan said.

  “She has that big, ole truck,” Bender said, looking at Peck. “A brand new Ford with snow tires and chains.”

  Peck ignored Bender’s comment and looked at McCoy. “Anybody get wind of Doris White?”

  “Not that I could determine. If they have, nobody said anything to me.”

  “Somebody must know her. You’re sure nobody’s asked or missed her?” Peck said.

  McCoy shook his head. “Not to me.”

  Regan said, “By my count, we have two hundred town residents staying at the church and hospital. That leaves a hundred or so still in their homes. People must figure she is one of those hundred, if they figure anything at all.”

  “What about Sunday mass?” Peck said.

  “What about it?” Regan sipped coffee, looking at Peck over the rim of the cup.

  “You said she was a regular at Sunday mass,” Peck said. “Sunday is two days from now. Somebody might notice she isn’t there and ask around. Maybe take a ride out to her place to check on her. They come back and ask questions, then what?”

  Regan’s surprise registered in his eyes. “I…….. hadn’t thought of that.”

  Bender said, “We might have the state police here by then. I wouldn’t worry too much about it until we have to.”

  Peck sipped coffee and looked at Bender. “Jay, rule number one in a homicide investigation is you never stop worrying until the jury says guilty.”

  With a crackling fire for background noise, Bender twisted frequency knobs on the short wave radio. After several minutes of static, he shut it off and looked at Peck who was at his desk, making notes.

  “Nothing,” Bender said. “You think somebody would be there. Anybody.”

  Peck looked up from his notes. “A few hundred state cops scattered throughout a state the size of Maine, what makes you think they’re sitting around waiting for a distress call from us?”

  Frustrated, Bender slapped the side of the short wave radio on his way to his desk. “And where the hell is Kranston?”

  “Home and asleep in his own bed if he had any sense.”

  Bender checked his watch and looked at Peck. “It’s after eleven. Maybe I think I’ll go home and try to get some sleep.”

  Peck scribbled a note. “No reason for the both of us to lose a night’s sleep.” The truth was he could hardly wait to see Deb again and hoped Bender’s interest in the state police would wane and he would d
o what he said and go home.

  Bender stood up and reached for his jacket on the coat hook when the door opened and one of Deb’s waitresses entered the office.

  “Sheriff, Jay, can I see you for a minute.” she said.

  Peck and Bender looked at her. She appeared nervous and her eyes darted back and forth between the two men.

  “Yes?” Peck said. “Is there something we can help you with?”

  “She didn’t come in. I thought I should tell you.”

  “Who, you mean Deb?” Peck said.

  The waitress nodded. “It’s probably nothing, but we asked Paco to take a run to her place on his way home and check on her. It’s silly, but……”

  “No,” Peck said. “It isn’t.”

  “So much for going home,” Bender said. He looked at Peck. “I’ll go warm up the car.”

  Peck nodded to Bender, and then looked at the waitress. “Are you off work?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you get home?”

  “I have a ride.”

  “Go home. Stay there. Everything will be fine,” Peck said. “And don’t worry. Deb probably couldn’t get her truck started and there’s no phones to call.”

  The waitress smiled at Peck. “You’re probably right. I’m probably worrying for nothing.”

  “You did the right thing,” Peck said. As he stood up, he could feel the anxiety building up in his stomach. “I’ll walk you out.”

  THREE

  Bender had a steady hand behind the wheel of the heavy cruiser. The drive to Deb Robertson’s home took thirty minutes, as Bender had to hold speed to thirty-five miles an hour to avoid severe skid out on the ice-covered roads.

  When they arrived at her home, Bender parked the cruiser close to Deb’s pickup. Peck exited the cruiser first and immediately knew something was wrong when he found the stalled pickup with the gearshift in park.

  Bender exited the cruiser and stood next to Peck. “I don’t get it. She’s was warming up her truck and let it stall?”

  Peck’s eyes went to the house. It was completely dark. Not even a candle was burning. Smoke was not visible from the chimney and the generator was quiet. “I don’t think so,” he said. A tight ball was forming in his gut.

 

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