Death is Long Overdue (Phee Jefferson Book 1) (9 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Baseball is the most perfect of games, solid, true, pure and precious as diamonds. If only life were so simple. Within the baselines anything can happen. Tides can reverse; oceans can open. That's why they say, "the game is never over until the last man is out." Colors can change, lives can alter, anything is possible in this gentle, flawless, loving game.” - W.P. Kinsella, Shoeless Joe

"I cannot believe you talked me into this." Juliet pouted in the passenger seat of Velma. "I don't care what you say.  I don't think Charlie killed anybody. I’m just glad you didn't make me wear that stupid mask.  I don't do superheroes."

"Well, it makes perfect sense to me.  I'm just going to go do a little investigation of my own. If I am right, I will turn it all over to Clint."  I got out of Velma and motioned for her to come with me.  Reluctantly, she climbed out. Dragging her feet like a two year old, she followed behind me as I walked up the sidewalk to Charlie's house.  He lived in a modest ranch-style house a few blocks from me.  His lawn was the envy of every gardener in town.  His years as the town groundskeeper carried over into his personal life. Everything was immaculate in his yard. Not a blade of grass was taller than what Charlie allowed. I knocked on the door and waited.

"He's not home, so let's go!" Juliet said and turned to head back to the van.  I knocked again.  From inside, I heard footsteps and a moment later, Charlie opened the door.

"What a surprise!  Come in!"  Charlie motioned us inside.  Juliet gave me a look that could cut diamonds before we followed Charlie into his house.

"Come on into the living room.  I've got the game playing, but since it's not the Reds, I can miss a few innings for two beautiful girls."  He turned the television down and sat down in the recliner.  "Have a seat."

Juliet and I sat next to each other on the old, but clean sofa.  It was covered by an afghan in hideous shades of orange, yellow and brown.  I cleared my throat and thought about how to start.

"We're here collecting for a family over in Hamilton whose house burned down last week," Juliet said hurriedly. "They needed some men's clothing for the dad and teenage son.  Do you have any shoes or jackets you could donate?"  I looked at her in surprise.  This was brilliant.  Maybe Juliet had missed her calling.  She should have been a detective.

"Well, I sure do."  Charlie got up slowly out of his recliner. "Follow me and I'll see what I have."  He ambled down the hallway.  Juliet gave me a triumphant look. We both got up and followed him down the hall.  He had opened up his closet and was looking through his shoes.  Glancing over his shoulder, I felt dismay when I realized that Charlie wore a size thirteen shoe and not one pair were tennis shoes.  They were much too large for the shoe print that Deputy Thompson had found.

"Will these do?"  Charlie pulled out a pair of construction boots that looked almost new.

"Those would be great," I said guiltily knowing there was no family to receive this generous gift.

"I might have a jacket in here, but I don't know.  Most of them are in pretty rough shape since I wear them when I am working in my yard." Charlie pushed through his clothes trying to find a jacket to donate.

"These boots will be fine," Juliet said quickly.  "Dad said he had some jackets to donate, so we are just going to head over there.  I really appreciate your generosity."

"You know I would do anything for you girls,” Charlie said affectionately and patted me on my arm.  "I consider the people in this town as my family.  Some of them might be a little nuts or not very nice, but it's a good family to have."

I felt horrible for thinking this sweet old man could actually kill somebody.  I reached over and hugged him.  He looked down at me in surprise. "What was that for?"

"Just a thank you for being such a good friend and all around great guy,” I told him.  "We'd better get going if we are going to make it to my parent's tonight.  Thanks again, Charlie.  See you tomorrow?"

"Yep.  If you gals are heading out, I am going to get back to my game.  You have a good evening."  Charlie headed back to his recliner as Juliet and I left.

Once we were in Velma, Juliet smacked me lightly on the arm.  "I told you so."  She stuck her tongue out at me.

"Really?  What are you?  Two? I'm actually relieved that it isn't him.  He really is a nice, old man."  I put Velma into gear and headed back home.  "Guess I need to rethink my suspects."

"And you really need to rethink your superhero costume before you put it on again."  Juliet joked.  I turned and stuck my tongue out at her and laughed.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“He was now in that state of fire that she loved. She wanted to be burnt.” -Anais Nin, Delta of Venus

Juliet headed home. I put my goldfish pajamas back on and this time chose the skunk slippers.  They really were my favorite pair.  The fire had died down in the fireplace, so I added a few more pieces of wood until it blazed back into life.  Perusing my shelf, I pulled down my favorite Hercule Poirot novel and settled onto the couch to read.

I was immersed in chapter two when Ferdie jumped up on the window sill and began to yowl. "Knock it off, Ferdie.  You're being rude.  Can't you see I am trying to read?"  I picked my book back up and began to read again, but Ferdie persisted.  He paced back and forth in front of the window and growled.  Who needed a guard dog when they had a twenty-five pound guard cat?  Sighing, I put my book down and got up to see what he had upset him.  I peered through the window and spotted a terrier digging in my yard.  I hurried out onto the front porch to yell at him before he tore everything up.  When I looked out into the yard, I saw a man was bent over and hooking a leash onto the dog.

"Your dog was digging holes in my yard," I called out. The man stood up and turned. When he did, I realized that it was Clint. "What are you doing out here?"

Tugging on the leash, Clint walked towards me.  The little terrier was happily wagging his little nub tail.  He was a cute little guy despite his dirt-covered paws.  "I was out walking Watson. I let him loose at Longfellow Park to run around a little.  He took off like a shot, and I have been chasing him all over the neighborhood.  He finally ended up here.  Sorry about the holes in the yard.  I'll stop by tomorrow and fill them in and try to patch up the grass a little."

"Don't worry about it. Watson, huh?"  I bent down to pet him on his little brown and white head.  He gazed at me lovingly with his puppy dog brown eyes.

"From Sherlock Holmes and Watson.  My cat's name is Sherlock.  This little guy is a Jack Russell Terrier.  He's about six months old," Clint said with as much pride as a new dad at the maternity ward.

"He's awfully cute.  Do you want to come in the house for a few minutes?  I've got some news to tell you anyway."  I opened the door. Clint and Watson followed me into the house.

"I see the skunk slippers are back.  I like the animal theme you've got going with the feet."

"I've got sexy feet.  Tra la la."  I did a little two step with my slippers.  Watson barked excitedly when he saw the skunk tails wiggle.  He leaped forward and attacked the tail. He whipped it off my foot and began to shake it furiously.  Losing my balance, I fell and hit the ground with my butt and gave a small bounce.  "Ouch!"

"Watson, no!"  Clint attempted to grab the slipper from Watson, but the little terrier growled. Thinking it was a game, he tugged some more.  Clint picked him up and was finally able to pry the now mangled slipper from his jaws.  He held it out to me.  We looked at each other and both burst out laughing.

"I guess we know what Watson's calling in life is going to be.  Defender of the feet and slayer of stuffed slippers!" I laughed, slipped the skunk back on my foot and stood up.  "Come on into the kitchen, and I'll get the brave warrior a bowl of water."

I filled a bowl of water from the sink and set it on the kitchen floor.  Ferdie had ventured out from the living room to see what all the fuss was about. When he spotted the little terrier, he stuck his nose in the air and stalked out of the room. Watson lapped at the water. Digging holes and fighting vicious skunk slippers was hard work. When he was done, he took three turns around and then settled onto the floor with his nose on his paws.

"I opened up a bottle of wine earlier.  Would you like a glass?"  I offered.  I pulled two glasses down and pulled the wine stopper from the bottle.

"I will, if you will."  Clint walked over and took a glass of wine from me.

"Let's go into the living room.  It's chilly tonight. I have a fire going in there already," I said feeling a little bold.  It was now or never.  I walked into the living room and sat down on the couch.  Clint sat down next to me.  A few minutes later, we heard the clicking of little nails as Watson followed us.  He settled onto the rug in front of the fireplace and closed his eyes to sleep.

"His great escape and subsequent skunk slaying have worn him out,” I said.

"I guess so.  He's a good little dog.  He keeps me company." Clint took a sip of wine.  "What's up?  You said you needed to tell me something."

"Charlie Cochran isn't the killer," I said.  "Juliet and I did a little investigating of our own, and we've determined that he cannot be the murderer."

"You what?  Of all the crazy stunts, why in the world would you go and investigate Charlie?" Clint gave me an exasperated look.  "Look, Phee.  I know you read all these mysteries."  He picked up the Hercule Poirot novel I had left on the coffee table. He held it up and then shaking his head put it back down. "This is real life, though.  This isn't some pretend character in a book killing pretend people.  Two people have died already. Now is not the time for you to pull out your Junior Girl Detective Kit.  Let me handle this, alright?"

"I know it's for real," I said indignantly.  "I took Juliet with me.  It's your fault I went to investigate anyway."

"My fault?  How is it my fault?"

"You said that the one thing Huey and Carla had in common is me.  Charlie was there both times I argued with them.  Plus, he is always jumping in to protect me.  He was a logical suspect," I finished triumphantly and looked at him.  Clint just glared at me. Seeing that he was not impressed thus far with my brilliant detective work, I continued. "Juliet and I went over to his house tonight..."

"You what?  Of all the hare-brained ideas!  Damn it, Phee!"  Clint abruptly put the wine glass on the coffee table.  He reached over and grabbed me. He gave me an exasperated shake and then with a groan, pulled me to him.  His arms crushed me to his chest as he roughly kissed me.  Instead of pulling away, I leaned into him. Sensing my need, his kiss deepened.  His hand cupped my breast, and I moaned against him.  I had dreamed about this moment for ages. I didn't want to wake up if it wasn’t real.

"Phee, do you want me to stop?"  Clint asked me.  "I can't take much more. I’ve wanted you for so long."

"Don't stop," I whispered and my hand reached down for the button of his jeans. With a swift movement, he lifted me up into his arms and carried me down the hall to my bedroom.  He laid me gently on the bed and began to undress me.  My pajamas were gently taken off, and I lay naked on the comforter. I reached out my hand to cover myself, but Clint grabbed it and kissed it.

"Don't.  I want to see and touch every inch of you." He began to kiss my shoulder and slowly licked his way across my collar bone until his mouth lit upon my breast. He nibbled gently on it.  As I arched my back in pleasure, he stroked his fingers gently against my thighs.  Unable to take anymore, I reached over and tugged at his jeans.  He quickly pulled off his shirt and slipped out of his jeans.  Clint leaned in and kissed me as I reached for him.

"Are you sure?"  Clint gazed down at me with a slight question in his eyes.  I nodded, and he parted my thighs with his knees. I gasped. As I rose to meet him, I felt a slow pleasure building.  I rode the wave and as he moved a final time, I cried out with pleasure. With a groan, I felt his body shudder. Moments later, he collapsed next to me.  Pulling me close, he leaned over and kissed me.

"I’ve wanted to be with you like this for a very long time.  I wasn’t too rough?" Clint asked as he caressed my face. 

"I didn't want gentle." I nibbled on his neck and placed tiny kisses along his ear. "I just wanted you."

"It will be better next time," Clint promised.

"Hmmmm...." I was blissfully happy and snuggled against him.

"Phee..." He pulled me tight against him.  At that moment, a jingle sounded from the floor.  "I'm going to ignore that." He kissed me on my neck and earlobe.  A moment later, the jingle from his phone insistently rang out again.  Sighing, he leaned down and pulled the phone out of his pants pocket.  Looking at the screen, he said, "I'm sorry, Phee, but I've got to answer this.  It's Sheriff Dawes."  He hit a button and held the phone to his ear.

"Mason." Clint answered. I could hear a tinny voice through the phone but couldn't make out what was being said.  Clint listened for a moment.  "Yes, sir.  I'll be right over."  He disconnected the call.  He stood up and began to pull on his jeans.  "I'm sorry, Phee, but I've really got to go.  Normally, Mark would take the call since he's been covering night shift this week, but the Sheriff said he needs me there."  He slipped his shirt on over his head.  "Can I leave Watson here with you?  I can come by and pick him up in the morning."

Feeling awkward and suddenly aware of my nakedness, I wrapped the blanket around my body.  "Sure.  Is it another murder?"

"I can't really get into it right now.  I'll come by in the morning before you have to leave for work."  He leaned over and kissed me on the forehead and then walked out the door.