My thumb rests on the top as I picture her mouth covering me. Tonight, her face is clearer than it has been in ages. I slide up and down, faster and faster. I moan her name as my back tightens and my balls clench. Oh yeah, ten years ago, I entered pure heaven and breached her virginity. In my fantasy she kisses up my chest, her hard, pointed tits rubbing against me. Then, she climbs over me and rides me until I can’t breathe.
“Danni. Oh, fuck!” After showering, I sleep fitfully, like I did while deployed.
The worst of my dreams have faded over time but they aren’t pretty and honestly, I’d just as soon be awake, where I have some control over my subconscious.
Toby wakes me in the morning with a wet lick. With the help of thick, black coffee, I’m ready to face the day.
Doggy-smiling, my pal waits by the door, thumping his tail. Outside, I pull my hat down over my ears and stay close to the porch. Dawn has yet to break and I don’t fancy a tumble on the black ice.
“Arf.” Toby runs loose in the back fields while I feed my chickens and clean up their shit.
Once we’re done with chores, we hop in my truck, I drive us to town, and enter the office where Sheriff Al Montana looks up from his laptop. “You talk to those kids last night?”
“Ay-yup.” My old chair squeaks as I sit, lean back, and bang my feet together to clear the snow.
“Paperwork?”
“Nope.” Turning on my computer, I open my emails.
Dammit. Danni forwarded Stacy’s message and now it sits in my inbox, forcing me to share the intel with my boss.
Back at his screen, Al stares for a bit, turns, and says nonchalantly, “Heard you left the wake with a woman and made a scene. Wanna tell me about it, son?”
Not really.Living in Fishbowl, Vermont can be pretty damn inconvenient. “A high school friend asked me out for a drink and when she gave me the look, I suggested a motel. She got insulted.”
“Huh.” He leans back in his chair and tries to read my mind so I make it easy on him.
“Check your inbox. The real reason she wanted to talk to me should be on top.” I wait while he digests the dead woman’s plea for help.
Done, he frowns and taps his fingers on the desktop. “How well do you know this Danni person?”
“In truth, I haven’t spoken to her in ten years. You know Jillian. She lives out by Packer’s farm. That’s her mom. Her dad, Bob, died of a heart attack a few years back.”
“Mmm. So, you believe this email?”
“Not sure. I don’t want to say one way or t’other. Stacy Kincaid had a pretty big imagination but something about the message rings true.”
“She taught creative writing at the college?”
“Ay-yup.”
His thought patterns run similar to mine so I give him time to mull it over. Standing and stretching, I wander over to the bookshelf-kitchenette and brew a pot of coffee.
By the time it’s done dripping, Al stirs. “Well, shit. I suppose we’ll have to look into this. Talk to Stacy’s mom and see what she thinks about holding off on the burial. Don’t get the town all riled up and tell your girlfriend to keep it on the down low.”
“Not my girlfriend.”
“Right. Now, sit down. You look like hell. You don’t have to, but I’d like to know your history with the girl who threw a drink in your face.”
Sighing, I sip the bitter brew, wondering where to begin. “There isn’t much to tell. Danni sat behind me since kindergarten because of our last names, Abbot followed by Adams. If not for alphabetical order, we wouldn’t’ve spoken. She was smart as a whip, a straight-A student, and a member of the church choir. She was forever poking me on the back, giving me grief.”
“Didn’t everyone?” He chuckles.
“True, but especially her. She was college bound and had a bright future.”
“And you thought you had no options.”
“Uh-huh.” I owe my boss a truck bed of gratitude. The day after he almost arrested me, he introduced me to the recruiter who gave me a path to an education.
